Klance Oneshots

Since When Was The Quarterback Gay?

I'm gonna embrace Heathers a little on this one. Gonna channel my Jason Dean

Now, Lance McClain was pretty positive he was straight. After all, he grew up talking about girls and having crushes on girls. He'd flirt and be flirted with and it was all normal. Typical honestly.

Lance, if he was being honest, didn't care much at all about the dating and the hooking up. He felt it was way overhyped. His friends spent a majority of their time talking about sexual conquests and daydreaming about future ones. And when they weren't talking about either of those, they were actually doing them. Lance would smile and crack jokes all the same though. He wasn't about to commit social suicide because he had a slightly different take on relationships and sex and whatnot.

But, now we're getting off topic....

Lance was almost positive he was straight. He was the high school quarterback, after all. He'd seen many queer kids around school, and he didn't feel like he really belonged to that crowd. Not to mention, they were the kids getting swirlies in the gym locker rooms. Lance was not about to condemn himself to that shit (literally). Besides, there's nothing attractive about men. He's a man—he isn't attracted to himself. There's nothing magical or special about a dick. It's just a dick.

But, looking across the cafeteria at the new kid... he was beginning to question. This is day three seeing this fucker around school. Each time he saw this asshole waltzing around like he had nowhere to be at no particular time, he felt a jolt of possibly annoyance with a hint of frustration. It took him a while to pinpoint what it was that this boy was setting off in him. But that morning when he caught this kid walking out of the teachers lounge holding what seemed to be Ms. Holts lunch-as it had a sticky note on top that said "don't touch -Holt"-he felt his interest had been piqued. Lance almost might have asked what the boy was doing but he was rendered speechless when the boy walked by and put a finger to his smooth pink lips in a signal to keep hush about the encounter.

So now, he was poking at his own lunch as he eyeballed the guy eating Ms. Holts lunch across the cafeteria. Quite the sight really. He had his feet propped up on the chair across from him —because no one dared sit by him—and he munched on a carrot spitefully (you'd have to see it to believe it).

This guy is something else really. He has longer pitch black hair that's tied back in a low ponytail and ripped denim jeans, combat boots, a black graphic tee, and a bombers jacket.

"Earth to Lance!"

Lance snaps his head in the direction of his good friend and fellow teammate Julian. "Yeah I'm here,"

"The fuck are you staring at?" He questions trying to meet the gaze of whatever Lance was eyeballing. "Is it that creepy fuck over there? What is he doing? He's got a damn mullet."

Mitch joins in. "Yeah, that new kid acts like he fucking owns the place or something. I don't like it," He sneers.

Lance feels an annoying itch under his skin, like a strange urge to defend the guy. He hates that. He doesn't owe him anything.

"We should give him a hands on lesson about how it works here at this school." Mitch laughed.

"I like the sound of that... are you in Lance?" Julian asked cracking his knuckles.

"Guys, we're seniors. Don't you think you're getting a little old to be teaching lessons?" Lance leaned back in his chair.

"Not if it's another senior." Mitch shook his head and the two stood up.

"I'll pass." Lance glanced in the guys direction.

"Suit yourself!" Julian said as the two of them sauntered up to the unsuspecting man.