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Whorls of neon lights against his eyelids. The feel of a warm palm in his, a little dry, his own a little sweaty. The low groan of the machines around him, the high, shrill screams of passengers that rent the sunsetting sky. Everything was bright and messy. Everywhere he looked, there was something new, all packed together and flashing. He looked down and there was the hand in his, leading him forward into the fray, into the cluster of noise and light and joy. It was overwhelming, but all he had to do was follow the pull of that hand, squeeze that palm and tether himself to it. He'd follow that pull anywhere.

Admittedly, Keith was enjoying the fair. 

Lance insisted on trying every ride they could find, which was fine with Keith because, after The Zipper, nothing could be worse. And, to his surprise, he was enjoying himself. That wasn't to say that he was expecting to have a bad time, of course not, he just hadn't really known what to expect. 

But Lance was interesting like that. He kept Keith on his toes, plucking fluffs of cotton candy from the bag they'd bought and taking turns depositing the sugary goodness in each of their mouths, throwing himself into Keith's arms in excitement after he made him try the High Striker and Keith ended up hitting the bell, earning himself a plush hippo that he secretly adored, kissing Keith's nose when he bumped face-first into a mirror in the Funhouse...

It was only when the vendors began their last calls did Keith realize that almost three hours had passed. He turned to Lance, who was lounging beside him in the grass beside the Ferris Wheel, finishing off the last of the cotton candy and licking the residue off his long fingers. Keith tried not to stare. "We should get going if we don't wanna get stuck in the traffic getting out of here," Keith said reluctantly. 

Lance frowned. "Already? But we just got here."

Keith laughed quietly as he pulled Lance up from the grass. "You've got a weird sense of time, man."

Lance stuck out his tongue maturely (it was blue from the cotton candy). "Excuse me for enjoying myself." Keith could only roll his eyes. 

The two slipped into the stream of fellow fair-goers as everyone trudged back to their cars, Lance clinging to Keith's sweatshirt sleeve to avoid being swept away by the current of moving bodies around them. When they arrived at Keith's motorcycle, it had already been almost twenty minutes since the fairground had closed. Lance yawned, checking his phone. "It's getting late, Mr. Kogane. Are you gonna have me home by curfew?"

Keith tossed Lance a helmet and buckled his own. "Hop on and we'll see," he replied evenly. 

"You're so cool," Lance teased, then frowned, "but where's Sir Dab gonna go?" He was genuinely concerned for the safety of the teddy bear he was hugging to his chest. 

"Sir Dab?"

"Sir Dab is very dignified and will not tolerate slander against his name, thank you very much," Lance replied in a nasally voice, sticking up his nose at Keith. 

Sighing, Keith took the bear and stuffed it into the seat compartment, making sure the bear's giant limbs were all inside before shutting the seat and inviting Lance on. He was still unused to the feeling of Lance's arms around him, but in a good way. As they slowly wove through the parking lot, Lance rested his helmeted head on Keith's shoulder, his palms flat against Keith's (sort-of) abs. 

As they pulled out onto the open road, Keith pressed his hand against Lance's for a moment. "Hold on tight," he murmured over his shoulder. Lance grinned, snuggling closer into Keith's taught back. 

Keith sped down the highway, taking the scenic route so Lance could see the ocean before bringing him back home (with 10 minutes to spare before midnight). Lance slid off the motorcycle and stretched as Keith retrieved Sir Dab from the seat compartment and replaced him with the spare helmet. 

"I had a fun time tonight," Lance said, smiling softly at Keith. Bathed in the porch light's yellow glow, he looked angelic. 

"Me too," Keith said shyly, then added, "but you have to pick out the place next time."

Lance smiled wider, eyes teasing. "Next time?"

Keith turned red and fumbled for a hold on words, "Uh, that is, if you want to, um, do that. Sorry."

The brunette laughed, leaning forward to kiss Keith's scarlet cheek. "Of course, Mullet. See you later," he waved before bouncing up the stairs and slipping inside the house. Keith couldn't wipe the smile off his face until he fell asleep. 

...

"WHEN I WAS," Keith screeched into his spatula, "A YOUNG BOY," he flipped a pancake on the sizzling griddle, "MY FATHER... TOOK ME INTO THE CITY... TO SEE A MARCHING BAND..."

Keith smiled and flipped the rest pancakes with 'artistic flourishes' (one fell on the floor in the process) as his iPod blared My Chemical Romance. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and, for a split second, his heart thought it was Lance, but his head reminded him that Lance had class in the morning, and if he wasn't there, he was practicing with Adam at the gym.

"Hey," Keith picked up, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro replied and Keith leaned against the counter, eyeing his tasty pancakes with increasing hunger. 

Keith tried to grab a pancake and immediately regretted it as he immediately burnt his fingertips. "Hoo haah hoo haah," he hissed in pain as he clutched his throbbing fingers. "What's up, Takashit?"

"How'd the date go?"

Keith tried to grab another pancake, throwing the hot disc on a plate before it could burn him again with a triumphant grin. Suck my dick, pancake, I'm gonna eat you. "The Lance date?" he asked. 

"Have you been going on other dates besides the Lance date?" 

Keith scoffed dramatically. "How dare you question my romantic prowess."

Shiro stayed silent, waiting.

"It went really well, okay?" Keith said, a little embarrassed. "But enough about me. How's Adam?"

Shiro cleared his throat, obviously flustered, and Keith snickered, hoo-haahing as he tore bites out of one of the pancakes. "Who?" Shiro played dumb like Keith had. 

"Your mom," Keith replied through the pancake.

"Very mature, Keith," Shiro said dryly, then sighed. "I haven't seen him since we all went to Hunk's together. Why, do you think he was interested?"

Keith froze. "Do I think... he was interested?" he repeated slowly. 

Shiro didn't say anything.

Rubbing his temples, Keith groaned. "Shiro, sometimes I think to myself 'I wonder who the most clueless person on the planet is?' and then I see you and I-"

"OKAY! Okay, I get it," Takashi interrupted Keith. "But I don't even have his number! And, regardless, it would be weird if I just suddenly texted him out of the blue."

"I could ask Lance," Keith tempted Shiro, pouring maple syrup in the middle of a pancake before rolling it up like a burrito. 

He could practically hear the puppy dog eyes in Shiro's voice. "Would you please?"

Keith smirked. "On one condition."

...

lol sorry this one is so short! i didn't wanna split the next scene up into parts uwuwu i hope u liked it anyways <33

qotd: what's the best gum flavor?

love u love u!!

-cal