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autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

Text

this is how it started

———

This is how it continues: Keith holds his hand all the way to breakfast.

In itself not incriminating. Lance holds Hunk’s hand all the time. He’s always got an arm around Pidge’s shoulder. Shiro is amused by Lance’s incessant attempts to have them skip about with their arms linked. Sometimes he offers his arm to Allura with the poshest expression he can muster, just to make her laugh. Not all of his attempts are entertained by his friends, of course, but there’s nothing novel about Lance attaching himself to people as they move about.

Keith reaching out, as they walk out of the bedroom they just shared, and linking their hands together easy as pie is, however, novel.

Everything is so bizarre. It’s worsened, really, after a night of decent sleep (in a real genuine mattress!), because it’s just not what Keith and Lance…do. They race each other to doorways, yanking on hoods or sticking out legs to trip and get ahead. They escalate from light shoving to full on wrestling in the middle of conversations. Keith is not exempt from Lance’s constant need to touch, sure, but it’s never — like this. Light, easy, comfortable, familiar.

(It was, briefly, at the end. When on their way to meetings and briefings and missions even Keith’s hand would rest on the small of Lance’s back. Absentmindedly. Unnoticeable. But a he left a week after it started, and as far as he’s concerned anything started in that era has long since been left behind them.)

They’re late — the rest of the team has already gathered. Pidge and Allura are half asleep on either of Shiro’s shoulders, and Coran and Hunk are arguing intensely but playfully about a pile of unrecognisable goo that Lance has learned to recognise as the space version of oatmeal. Hunk pokes it in disgust. Coran feigns outrage.

All five faces turn to them as they approach, and Lance can’t place a single one of their expressions. He is made suddenly aware that he has loosened his grip on Keith’s hand when he feels him squeeze three times, quickly in succession.

“…Huh,” Shiro says after a moment, eyes trained on their clasped fingers. His face is carefully blank. No one else offers any commentary.

“How’d y’all sleep,” Keith asks, pulling out a chair. Lance realizes after a beat that it’s meant for him, and he flushes up to his ears. He tugs his hood over his head and nearly upends the table in his haste to melt into the offered chair. Keith, in contrast, sits down next to him and rests an arm over the back of Lance’s chair so smoothly it has to be practiced.

Pidge makes a choking noise, cheeks puffed up like she barely managed to keep her mouth shut. Hunk has both hands clapped over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lance hisses, face redder than his lion.

Keith’s fingers brush his shoulder. He sinks further into his chair and tugs his hood down lower.

“I slept exceptionally,” Allura says loudly. The look she cuts Lance’s way is straight-up evil, and Lance knows what’s coming, and for several agonizing seconds he considers grabbing the spoon from the goo bowl and stabbing it straight through his eye. “The beds were very comfortable, didn’t you find, Keith?”

You are so dead to me, Lance thinks at her. He even thinks i’m in Altean so the fury can reach her properly.

“Yeah.” Keith leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. Lance’s face gets exponentially redder, and the peanut gallery starts screeching quietly, but despite himself he — leans. Into it. And Keith notices, because his mouth curves into a smile, and he presses another kiss to the curve of Lance’s jaw before pulling away. “Slept right for the first time in two years.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Shiro says, reminding Lance once again that he is, in fact, Lance’s hero, actually, last few months notwithstanding. He shoots Lance a fond, teasing smile, then turns back to Keith. “My question is: what the fuck?”

“Seconded,” Pidge agrees through a mouthful of goo.

Hunk grimaces at her. She shoves three more bites of goo into her mouth then opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue at the yellow paladin, just to be disgusting. With a scandalized “gross, Pidge!” Hunk shoves chair away and marches to the other side of the table, leaving Pidge sniggering.

Keith watches the whole thing with a smile on his face soaked in so much sadness Lance’s chest physically aches with it. He darts out a hand and wraps it around Keith’s, squeezing it in a mirror of the way he did before. Keith smiles gratefully at him, pulling up his hand and kissing the back of it. Somewhere, Lance hears someone mutter: “Christ alive.”

“There was a — shipwreck, of sorts,” Keith explains eventually. His voice is soft. “Krolia and I flew too close to something. Our intel was outdated. When we finally made it out of the wreckage we were stranded on the back of a space whale, and time was…stretchy.”

“That explains so very little,” Shiro says, shaking his head. He stabs his spoon in some goo. “Space has done little but piss me off in the last couple years, if I’m being honest. Keith, I swear to God I’m going to ground you.”

Keith grins. “Fat chance, old man. I outrank you now.”

“That’s what you think.”

Lance watches them both critically as they argue. Well, ‘argue’. They’re both grinning too hard for any real animosity. And exhaustion still lines Shiro’s features, and he still leans onto Allura for support, but there’s a brightness in his eyes that’s been missing for months. And Keith is —

Keith is here, leaping to his feet, spoon of goo bared dramatically, and he is tired too but he is warm and soft, somehow, and the weight that Lance has always watched on his shoulders seems to have lifted. There is an easiness to him now that there wasn’t before. And Lance notices and cannot stop noticing, because he is beautiful, and because for some reason he has decided to plant himself next to Lance, closer than before, and bleed his warmth. And Lance is supposed to be the lighthearted one and the joking one and the easy one. That is his role. That is what he knows how to play.

But he’s been struggling. And the role has not come easy. And last night he had cried until he slept in Keith’s arms and Keith had held him and checked the room and kissed his hair and has yet to let go of him.

Lance looks at Keith and thinks to himself: maybe just this one thing.

Keith reaches half over the table and musses his brother’s hair, pushing him back into Allura’s careful hold and sitting heavily back in his own seat. He frowns, staring at the space that has grown between his chair and Lance’s during his roughhousing. Slowly, he reaches over and grabs the bottom rung of Lance’s chair, dragging him over until the space between them has disappeared, then he nods once to himself, satisfied, and throws an arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him even closer.

And Lance thinks to himself: oh, God.

For a moment Lance is tense. He feels the stares of the rest of the team, teasing and interrogating all at once. He can already anticipate their questions, probably on par with his own.

Keith rests his cheek on top of Lance’s head.

“You good?”

Suddenly, none of that seems to matter. He thinks to himself: I need to sit him down and ask what the hell is going on.

Keith’s thumb starts to gently brush back and forth on the cusp of his shoulder.

He says: “I am now.”

This is how he lets it continue.

———

this is how it ends

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callmelyc · 4 months

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Au where Lance is a storyteller turned writer that ends up seeing visions of real murders he has to break the cycle for before it's too late.

But he doesn't know that just yet.

It all starts with dolls. When lance was little he'd watch in awe as his elder sisters played with pretty dolls, their glossy hair and colorful tiny clothes mesmerizing to his young eyes. He was never allowed to play with them himself so he'd craft intricate stories for them in his head instead.

When his abuela found out she'd gifted lance her own collection, a beautiful set of vintage dolls all his own. With those dolls his stories continued on in his mind. As he himself aged he grew his collection himself.

When Rachel died, murdered with no answers, he kept her dolls too and gifted them back to the two daughters she'd left behind in his care.

His bf at the time helped all he could, he was a kind man Lance gad met in college. By then they'd dated for two years, by then he was a part of the family. To help the girls feel truly settled through Lances grief, his bf would do everything to make the girls feel at home.

Many therapy sessions, long nights and tears later Lance finds himself desperately retelling the stories he'd crafted for those dolls to the 5 and 7 year old in hopes it's enough to get them to bed.

To Lances surprise, It works.

So every night no matter their age Lance would tell his nieces, now daughters, stories to help them cope.

It's his boyfriend that suggest it first, for lance to write these stories out and in doing so even more details pour out into the pages he writes on.

Before long years pass and the girls can read these stories themselves, they ask for more, they call both Lance and his long-term Bf dad and it both warms his heart just as much as it shatters it.

The girls are 10 and 12 when lance hears from a publisher for the first time.

His first books are published without much flourish and the small family of four celebrates anyways.

The first time he sees his books out in the wild Lance is in awe. His bf simply smiles at him and encouraged him to continue.

So he does.

Things are well, if Lance ignored the screaming in his ear.

Lances happy little life is haunted by dreams that aren't quite dreams. He isn't sure what to call them. Visions? Nightmares? All he knows is they're vivid enough and they grow more frequent and disturbing as time passes.

He hasn't told anyone of them since the grief counseling years ago. He had to appear as sane as possible for the Girls sake. Lance refused to let anyone else have custody of them so he simply had to deal.

He'd talk to his lover about them had the last time not felt so....off.

Lance had laid in the man's arms describing the icy terror he'd feel from the images his head crafted.

How he'd always see a dead body, how it would be swallowed by the wet earth surrounded by pine and how it looked like his sister or her favored dolls.

And the man that had always been his biggest support looked at lance in fear for the very first time. "are you sure you're ok?"

Lance had to smile and say "yeah, it's just a reoccurring nightmare I think"

After that those "nightmares" started happening during the day, quick flashes of cold damp earth, a deep hole in the ground, disfigured bodies slowly growing in number.

It's no longer just his sister.

All had looked like dolls for the briefest moment.

He doesn't know what to make of it. So, Lance ignores it.

Things move forward as they always will. The youngest of his daughters takes the last name Clark because "Alana already has the McClain name! Daddy doesn't have anyone with his name so if I have it then both our dad's are honored."

His bf is overjoyed to be loved so deeply she'd want such a thing. Their happy little family growing more intertwined. Two perfect daughters with two perfect last names for their two perfect dads.

If only their happiness has lasted.

Their breakup was the shock of everyone that knew them both. It didn't end in flame and smoke but in an autumn chill soft and aching. They didn't fight, argue or scream. It was quiet and a mutual agreement.

Lances writer fame had taken off and they'd been begging him to move closer to their publishing office for in person meetings to help fan the flames of his growing popularity.

His bf had been growing a bit distant since then. He claims it's because he felt he was holding lance back and it was obvious the girls would go where he did.

Their breakup felt like a divorce.

The visions grow more detailed, he can actively smell them now.

The now family of three moves states and temporarily move in with an old friend, Keith Kogane.

Keith had moved out here five years ago and it just so happened to be the city his publisher wanted lance to live in.

His daughters, though still distraught, are excited to see their uncle Keith again and Keith is just as happy to see them in return.

He joyfully comments on how big they've gotten, he helps them all settle in and Keith sits with lance every night as he grieves the loss of a life he thought was forever.

Lance has a few months before a book tour starts to promote his newest series and Keith holds his little family together in his rough but gentle hands.

Those caring hands will watch his daughters while he's gone and lance couldn't be more grateful to have Keith in his life again.

Keith who never pried when lance was frozen with the horrible visions mid conversation. Keith who owned every single one of lances books and dedicated a shelf just to his Works.

This man helped keep his girls from being too hurt at the loss of another parent. This man helped get them therapist in the area and recommended lance the perfect schools for them.

Keith was actively helping his girls get through yet another thing to grieve and Lance Couldn't think of any better a situation for them to have fallen into.

He wouldn't know it just yet, and neither would Lance, just how much he was truly saving them.

~•~

When Lances nights grow too restless Keith recommends he start going for runs.

"It helped my mind alot When shiro was still MIA during his deployment. Running just....got my mind off things, helped me think."

And who is Lance to argue with reasoning like that?

His night runs become a frequent occurrence even through the biting cold of winter crawling in.

It's on his way back that he sees it in the yard of a neighbor that's no longer there: a doll.

It's pretty hair in a high ponytail reflecting the moonlight off the plastic.

Lance approaches, curious. This doll hasn't been there this entire time....has it?

He kneels down to pick it up from its resting place against the side of this old house. It reminds lance alot of vintage Barbie dolls, the kinds his sisters used to play with and never allow him to touch.

It's hands were shredded and face scratched near unrecognizable but her smile stayed intact. Perfect and glossy.

As he holds this doll in his hands the overwhelming sense of wrong evades lances senses. Something screams at him to check the rest of the yard, his gut churning as he steps further and further in.

There's another doll by the old shed. Another by the broken backdoor.

Each more disfigured than the last. Each left with the perfect, glossy smile. Each a vintage doll he used to see in his family home.

Horror and unease swallow lance whole and this time the vision takes lance violent into it's grasp.

This time everything is uncomfortably sharp. The scent of rain dampened mud, the cutting iron, the sounds of screaming.

He's in a thorn bush cutting deep into his trembling form, watching thru the gap between its branches hoping no one will hear him. He watches a man burry body after body into the large hole in the earth he always saw before.

Lance listens as the man sing songs his name saying soon it'll be his turn. Soon the tale will end.

And as the thorns shred his icy skin Lance wakes up snapped from the vision still in the old yard. He drops the doll and rushes back.

He ignores Keith's worry filled questions and hides away in the bathroom shaking from the chill left behind.

As lance strips his clothes dampened from the wet grass he looks in shock at the blood seeping through. His arms are covered in thorn cuts from a bush he was never actually in.

And lance doesn't know what to do when the next day the dolls he'd left behind are no longer there.

This is when the tale truly begins.

#lance vld #voltron #vld #vld lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #pre klance #klance endgame #i dont have a first name for the ex bf yet my b but his last name is clark so ill take any suggestions #the youngest girl is sophia and the other alana #part one if idk but it is a murder mystery i promise #keith ends up helping eventually #klance #keith x lance #keith voltron

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corvus--rex · 6 months

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another import from the accursèd bird app, and completely unedited, as per usual

Lance had always had an odd sense. He just knew sometimes. It had started as soon as he could talk. His family got used to it and believed him every time. His friends didn't, not at first. But eventually they all did, even the more skeptical ones in college. They would all have their "event" that would prove it.

Dragging someone across the playground just before an unattended car rolled through the fence right where his friend would have been, taking a different path to class only to prevent another friend from being pushed down the stairs, and then in high school when he yanked his two best friends back from being crushed by heavy scenery in the school theatre seconds before it fell. Telling a friend in college to take a turn where they wouldn't normally, only to avoid an accident at the next light. He never found an explanation for this sense, he just had it.

One afternoon, Lance was walking toward the subway station after work. That sense tingled, telling him to take the long way around. It was a beautiful early autumn day, and he took a turn down a quiet side street, lined with old brick houses built one on top of the other, maple trees dotting the sidewalk and just beginning to turn red and gold. It wasn't an area for heavy foot traffic, and he wasn't surprised to not meet anyone. He even still early for his train despite the detour.

Lance wouldn't have looked back, except for that feeling telling him he should. Emergency vehicles blocked the street, a snarling man was pinned to the asphalt, bloody knife laying several feet away, while the stabbing victim was loaded into a waiting ambulance. If the attack was random, that would have been him in the ambulance. He felt for the actual victim, he always did, but it was overshadowed by a sense of relief that it wasn't him.

Later, on the train home, he got a feeling of having been watched, but shook it off. There were a lot of people who'd stopped to watch. It was when he was falling asleep on his couch to the drone of the tv that he bolted upright, remembering someone small and unobtrusive, with round glasses and wild honey blond hair. They were across the street from him, facing not the mess of the aftermath, but him. It was unnerving, but hours past, and he decided to ignore it.

Three days later, Lance was out running a few errands when he got the feeling again. He waited beside the shop door instead of stepping out into the parking lot, just missing the elderly driver stomping on the gas instead of the brake and crashing into the potted bushes that separated the shop from the one next door.

He'd always help when he could, and called emergency services while making sure the driver wasn't hurt - she was fine, just shaken - and he waited until they were on their way to the hospital before resuming his day. Several people had stopped to either help or check if they were needed, and Lance hadn't realized that one of those people, a tall, broad guy - the orange headband stood out - hovered at the back of the crowd far longer than anyone else.

After that, Lance started paying more attention to the people around him when his sense went off. The next time was in his office building, he took the stairs down instead of the elevator, the doors stuck on the first floor with the car stuck halfway. This time it was a different guy, taller than the last one, with a white streak in his hair and a prominent scar across his nose, who sat in the reception area, watching as Lance was able to get the single person in the elevator safely to the floor while maintenance was still on the way.

The next incident left him shaken. The days were getting shorter, and it was past dark when he turned down the street his apartment building sat on. Halfway down the block, he felt the familiar tingle, and slowed down accordingly. A muffled shout caught his attention, and he looked down an alley just in time to see the streetlight reflect off the barrel of a gun.

Without thinking, he ran in, disarming the gun's wielder with the kickboxing he hadn't done in years but still remembered. Stunned, the attacker laid on the pavement while their near-victim called for help. There was no crowd this time, and his watcher was far more obvious, despite her trying to look like she was just passing by. Pure white hair sparkled in the yellow light of the streetlamps, bright blue eyes fixed on him and him alone.

The attacker was taken away and the victim refused a trip to the ER, leaving Lance to finally head home in a daze. He was surprised at his own actions, that was a fucking gun for fuck's sake, not to mention the kickboxing he thought he;d forgotten. But that girl wasn't there by accident. None of them had been, he realized. They couldn't be. But why. Why were they watching him, and only turning up when something happened? His sense would go off again, it always did, but this time he'd be ready.

Three days later, it happened again. No one was hurt, but the subway train he usually took was offline that day due to a failure on the rail. Fortunately, there was a metro rail that ran close enough to his office, and he was just in time to catch it.

The trip itself was blissfully uneventful, it was when he got off with dozens of other people that he felt it. Looking up, Lance saw the sparks from the electrical lines that ran some of the city's buses. He yelled, loud enough to get plenty of attention, people startled into listening. He cleared the immediate area just before the line crackled, showering the road with white hot flaming sparks.

The road was shut down, transit maintenance arriving to investigate the cause and make notes for repairs, all of which took enough time for the crowds to disperse. But Lance stayed, knowing that someone would be watching him from a distance.

He scanned the area, spotting that day's person. Roughly his height, maybe a bit shorter, black hair, pale skin, startling violet eyes that stared right at him. Lance waited until this latest person saw him staring right back. The new guy smiled to himself, and walked over.

"There you are," he said.

"You've been watching me," Lance answered, "Why?"

"Because. You belong with us."

Lance knew it was true. Whoever these people were, his place was with them.

"We can help. Gift like yours isn't all that rare, but the way you feel it, that is unusual. Come with us, we'll show you what you can really do."

That was a very tempting offer, but… "What about work? I think my office will notice I'm missing?"

"Already taken care of. Nothing bad, don't worry, but you're free to join us without worrying about anything."

Oddly, Lance wasn't worried. But he was curious. "Who are you guys anyway?"

He smiled. "The Witches of Voltron."

Lance immediately felt safer than he ever had. The tingle flared, but instead of a warning, it was an odd sense of familiarity. He knew this was where he belonged. Without question. He nodded, stepping closer to wherever this witch would lead him.

"I'm Keith, by the way."

Lance nodded. "I think I already knew that."

Keith laughed, shaking his head. "Of course you did."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll find out."

#my writing #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld keith #vld lance #pre klance #technically #if I ever continue this it'll make sense #keith x lance #klance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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vee-is-a-clown · 1 year

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Tick tock, tick tock

The noise that clocks usually make, though not this one. This clock was the generic clock that every classroom in the school had in the corner. A silent clock with a standardized, minimalist design. Lance imagined that it made noises as it spun.

Why is Lance focused so much on a clock? He doesn't know. One thing he does know is that he's ahead on classwork in this class and that means that the teacher couldn't care less with what Lance does as long as it isn't loud.

So he drifted off, lost in thought as he stared at that clock from his seat in the far back. While he did so, he twirled a pencil in his hands. Suddenly, the sensation of the pencil slipping out of his grasp. He'd accidentally flung the damn pencil all the way across the room.

Click clack, click clack

The sound of black leather boots moving across the vinal tiles. Very pretty things, they would be if they weren't so worn. You can tell that they're loved. The soles were tall. Combat boots.

The combat boots were owned by a secretly scrawny, pale boy who sat in the very front. He wore loose ripped jeans with chains hanging down from the belt loops and an oversized MCR hoodie which, like the boots, looked well loved. As Lance's eyes wandered higher up the boy's figure, he couldn't help but notice that the boy's dark black hair was tied up in a small ponytail.

Lance tried to focus really hard on memorizing what the boy looked like, knowing full well that he would remember the boy's features anyway. He never does. His brain's just messed up like that.

Lance got a little distracted again. It's not his fault. It's just the clacking of the boy's boots. They're a little too loud. It's not like he needs to be doing something anyway. It's fine.

The cold sensation of his pencil's eraser being pressed against his face. He looked up to find the boy holding said pencil to his face.

"Hey, you uh- you dropped your pencil."

"O-oh. Than- thanks. Uhh Keith, right?"

"Y-yeah."

Lance was definitely a bit frazzled. Maybe Keith's boots wouldn't be the only thing about Keith that would be distracting him next time.

-------

*Boop* Keith's outfit (He shops in the women's section, ok? I had someone asking about it so I have to specify)

#based on when I zoned out in Spanish #I got inspired then I blacked out and woke up with a fic #I might make make a Keith POV #adhd lance #anxiety keith #voltron #keith voltron #keith kogane #vld keith #klance #vld lance #lance voltron #lance mcclain #art #keith fanart #Klance fanfic #Klance fic #pre klance #so many tags

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the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 2 years

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KEITH WAKING UP FROM SURGERY PLZPPLEZPLZZZZZ

Post is here!

------

Keith felt his eyes tugging themselves open. Everything felt heavy and he was suddenly aware of the dull pain that throbbed over his body.

He tried to focus on the bright light above him, trying to focus on the ceiling tile next to it. He forced his eyes to blink, trying to push away the fatigue that sat on him.

He turned his head to the left, slowly. He hated how slow he had to move.

He knew Lance was sitting by him, but he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to look at him. Lance was his best friend, and maybe...just maybe he had a tiny crush on him but being friends was enough for him.

He was grateful for Lance, after all, how many friends would be willing to spend hours sitting in the hospital, waiting for him to be released, letting the nurse explain everything that was going to happen, and sitting there for hours by himself while Keith was in surgery.

Yeah, Keith liked him.

He opened his mouth to say something, he thinks he wanted to call out to Lance; but he was quickly discovering how hard it was to think through anesthesia.

He must have said something since Lance scooched closer to him from where he sat next to him, a soft smile on his face. "Hey man, how're doing?"

Keith isn't sure if he nodded his head or not, he was too focused on blinking. He loved looking at Lance, his soft features, his lopsided smile, the ocean-blue eyes that seemed to stare into his soul. Lance was a work of art that Keith always wanted to observe.

It wasn't new knowledge that Keith wasn't much for physical affection. He was very independent, his upbringing made it so it had to be. He lived by himself, he paid his own bills, never asking for anyone to even cover his gas when he drove them somewhere. Keith liked being independent, he liked not having to rely on anyone.

But right now, all he wanted to do was be held, or hold someone else. He wanted to be comforted, in a way he never really desired.

He found himself leaning more on his left side, reaching across himself with his right hand, finding it laying limply on the moveable railing of his bed.

"What was that?" Lance leaned forward, bringing his face closer to try to understand whatever Keith was mumbling.

Keith made a soft whimper, the pain was dull but still enough to make him uncomfortable. "Ha-d"

Lance scrunched his eyebrows, "what? Want your phone?"

Keith pushed most of his energy into shaking his head once or twice before he took another deep breath; god he was so tired. "Want...han-"

"My...my hand?"

Keith closed his eyes, trying to reach across the bed more; even though he knew his hand didn't change much. "Hand."

"Uhh okay." Lance reached up and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers gently. "You okay buddy?"

Keith attempted another nod, his eyelids already closed as sleep tugged at him.

---

Lance watched the other boy sleep, his thumb rubbing small circles on the other boy's hand. Keith looked peaceful but he knew he was itching to be awake. Keith was not one to want to lay around all day, let alone take a nap.

"Did he fall asleep again?"

Lance looked up at the nurse who was poking her head into their area. "Yeah, he seemed very tired."

She pushed the curtain back some and stepped into the room, checking his IV bag. "Anesthesia can be hard for people to shake sometimes. Just let him sleep." She looked at how their fingers were intertwined. "Are you his boyfriend?"

Lance shook his head, his eye falling back to the sleeping boy. "No just friends," he squeezed the other boy's hand softly.

She left the room with instructions to call for her when he woke up again and Lance found his free hand smoothing down Keith's hair. He had taken the week off of work to take care of him and he was fully prepared to deal with whatever healing Keith needed.

Crush aside, Lance was thrilled that Keith trusted him enough to ask him for help. And apparently, he trusted him enough to hold his hand and find comfort in him.

Lance found a small smile on his face as he watched the other boy; he hadn't seen Keith this relaxed in a while. "Get some rest mullet."

-----

Did Lance give him a forehead kiss? Idk man

Did they kiss a couple of days after Keith got home? Yes.

I had this half way done when you send the ask for thank you for giving me the final motivation for this.

Thank you <3

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justaz · 3 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron) Characters: Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Beaches, Canon Universe, Pining Keith (Voltron), Alien Planet, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, pidge and keith hate the sun, they are FOES, keith will fistfight the sun, Fluff, Fluffuary | Fluffy February 2024, idk if this should be rated G or T for language, ill rate it T, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), nunvill as alcohol because coran and shiro are TIRED, let them let loose a bit, Team as Family, Red Paladin Keith (Voltron), Black Paladin Shiro (Voltron), Blue Paladin Lance (Voltron), so this is set before season 3 i guess, rival klance ftw, they're all idiots, except allura, hinted autistic keith and pidge, because im right Series: Part 3 of Fluffuary 2024 Summary:

the beach episode we were robbed of

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heynhay · 10 months

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woe! klance be upon ye

#feeling mild abt all of these except the first one. i like my poses on that one. hrm yes.#klance #voltron #vld #art #my art #first one tho can be read as pre slash shameless yearning or as established relationship silliness #idk haha... someone should like...write about it or something... lolz........ no im kidding...hahahahaha.......#blinks slowly

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vldsideblog · 1 year

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So you’ve heard of “Lance talks about Keith and Spanish and Keith has no idea what’s going on” a beloved classic

But I bring you “Keith’s a born and raised Texan, (Texas has one of the highest Spanish speaking populations in the US) who was also partially raised by Adam who spoke Spanish around the house a lot. And so he understands most of what Lance is saying but is to embarrassed to admit he knows that Lance has talked about how soft his hair looked on at least three separate occasions “

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arachred · 2 months

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thinking abouttttt keiths hair being very thick and growing at twice the speed as any of the other paladins' because of his galra genes. he locks himself away in the bathroom for an hour-ish every week or so to hack away at it with his knife (and it somehow always ends up looking fine every time).

he gets caught a few months in, after the castles alarm sounds mid-haircut and he has to rush to his lion with his hair in the most awful state (he'd only gotten halfway through, and you have to trust the process!). his helmet manages to keep the travesty hidden from the others, but upon returning, he's in such a rush to get back to the bathroom and finish the job that he briefly forgets to lock the door.

lance actually screams at the sight of keith standing in front of the mirror, sawing at his bangs with such reckless abandon that he almost passes out.

lance doesn't so much suggest that he cut keiths hair for him as he does demands it. keith tells him he doesnt need help, and lance stares with pure, horrified disbelief.

"clearly you do!" lance says, still speaking far louder than keith thinks is warranted. "you're in desperate need of assistance, man. and, you know, actual scissors."

so lance starts cutting keith's hair for him. he has to sharpen the scissors before every time or else the blades struggle to cut through, but the end result is a lot better... even if neither will admit that to the other - keith because he'd never confess that lance was right about him not being able to do it properly himself, and lance because he can never bring himself to say anything even remotely complimentary about the mullet (even if, keith points out, he's the one responsible for it now).

#klance #pre-them finding out about keith's heritage #so lance is constantly trying to figure out what keith uses on his hair to make it grow like that #and keith is just like... uhhh shampoo?#lance loves the mullet really he is just in complete denial #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld keith #vld lance #vld klance #headcanon #voltron headcanons #vld headcanons #klance headcanon

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klance-daydreams · 9 months

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yeah

#PRE MARTIAL KISSIMG BY THE WATER?????#klance #klance fanart #klance art #keith x lance #lance x keith #lance voltron #lance mcclain fanart #lance vld #keith kogane #keith fanart #keith vld #voltron fanart #klancedayart #yeah it’s almost 11pm so what #trans keith

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coolnonsenseworld · 2 years

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Want to spend with you all seasons + infinity

#voltron legendary defender #klance #last day of pre-orders fir the calendar #so we celebrating #and then two more pieves left to post - oct and march #ive made prints as a test and im pretty stoked abt them #and yes ive captioned this like my set of strickers #i am both sorry and unapologetic

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autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

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The situation starts on the couches of a hotel lobby on a random planet at three-something in the morning, sprawled all over each other, exhausted, as Coran quietly checks them in.

“Hey, Lance,” whispers Keith, from somewhere beside the shoulder he offered. Lance groans, feigning more tiredness than he actually feels, heart racing since Keith first shifted so Lance would have somewhere to rest his head. He has this strange feeling of invasion, even though Keith offered, even though they’ve been in this position dozens of times before. He’s waiting almost for the other shoe to drop.

“Mm-what,” he mumbles, muffled into his roughed shoulder pads, words smushed together.

Keith sighs instead of answering. For half a second Lance tenses. But Keith only shifts again, not pushing Lance off but moving so Lance is pressed closer to him, and then the heat of his breath tickles the shell of Lance’s ear, and he tenses for a whole different reason.

And then there is, inexplicably, the feeling of what must be Keith’s lips, pressed to the side of Lance’s skull, gentle and lingering, and Lance thinks clearly to himself: what the fresh actual and genuine fuck.

“‘M sorry,” says Keith, so quiet it would be impossible to hear were his mouth not one single inch away from Lance’s ear. He kisses again, and he almost sags into the motion, into Lance. “I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of you earlier. I was stressed. I missed you, too.”

Lance opens his mouth. He muffles a choking sound with all of his strength.

“All good in the hood,” he finally manages, and then wants to strangle himself. “We’re — tight, Keithalicious.”

Somewhere, somehow, there is a God, and this God looks upon him with the utmost cruelty, and so Lance suffers, unjustly, every day of his life. He often prays that he will wake up one morning in the absence of a tongue. A hindrance and horrible sacrifice, of course, but one that may be worth the total sum of humiliation he feels so acutely and so frequently by virtue of God’s gift of language.

Shit is just not worth it, sometimes.

Keith’s laugh tickles a little. “I’m glad, sweetheart.” His final kiss is light, more of a peck than anything. He pats Lance’s hip twice before standing. Lance wonders, vaguely, when the hell his hand was in his hip area in the first place, and how the hell he’s supposed to rationalize that somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. “‘M gonna go help Coran. See you in a few.”

“Yeah,” is what Lance means to say, but unfortunately when he opens his mouth the only sound that escapes is a strange kind of croak, clawing its way out of his throat and withering to death somewhere in the air between them. It may be, he realises with an intense flash of solemnity, the last remaining dredges of his dignity. Rest in fucking peace.

Keith just smiles again (a real one that shows his crooked incisors and crinkles his eyes and makes him looks handsome, not hot or sexy or beautiful but handsome, in a way that genuinely makes Lance weak in the knees) and jogs over to the front desk. Lance watches him place a friendly hand on Coran’s shoulder, leaning in and narrowing his eyes at the paper the front desk worker offers, saying something Lance can’t hear with his Black Paladin face in full force. When he finally manages to wrench his eyes away, he sees the faces of his team, gobsmacked, staring at him with wide eyes and jaws brushing the polished blue tiles.

“What,” Shiro manages eventually, “the fuck.”

“Since fucking when are you two boning!” Pidge adds, shamelessly.

“I thought you had a thing for Allura?” questions Hunk.

Lance’s own jaw snaps shut. His ears burn, worse than they already were, and he glances at the princess only to find her already looking away. Shame burns something fierce in the pit of his stomach. It’s an unwelcome replacement of the butterflies.

“What me and Keith do behind a closed door is none of your business,” Lance says hotly, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest ridiculously. His heart pounds. He raises his voice to drown it out. “We had a bonding moment, after all.”

Pidge barks a laugh. The rest of the snorts and giggles soon follow, and soon the team is looking at him in fond exasperation, rolling their eyes and muttering about Lance and his antics. Allura, even, looks him in the face again. The roiling in his stomach doesn’t change, but the pound of his heart is replaced with something bitter on the back of his tongue.

Anything is better than looking ignorant. Even if you look like a fool.

He settles into the corner of the couch — much less comfortable than Keith’s armoured shoulder, somehow — and lets his eyes slide shut, lets the familiar sound of his team quietly conversing and the ambient sound of a public place at night wash over him as he fades into a half-sleep. The same kind of sleep in a car on the way home from a long road trip, late at night; half aware of the movement and murmured sound of your parents’ whispering in front seat, time stretching around you like taffy.

He stirs slowly at the sound of boots hitting the floor, bleary eyes still half-shut. Keith slowly comes back into focus, standing in front of him now. He’s frowning, troubled.

“They booked us two separate rooms,” he explains, pursing his lips at the two keys in his hand.

Lance pauses. “…Yes.”

Keith doesn’t pick up on it. (That, at least, is familiar enough to make Lance smile.)

“You’d think they’d…well, whatever. I suppose it’s fine. I’ll come join you after you’re showered?”

“Keith —”

“I think my room has the bigger bed, actually. You come to mine.” He opens the little envelope thing and pulls out the extra key, sliding it into Lance’s hands. “I’ll bring up your luggage.”

“Keith, I’m not going to —”

Lance stops.

Keith, I’m not going to sleep with you, is what he was going to say. Keith, what the hell. Keith, you’re acting like a pod person. Keith, I don’t understand what’s going on. Keith, everyone is laughing at us and you don’t seem to notice. Or care. Keith, you’re acting like you’re my — boyfriend, or something. Keith, one day ago you didn’t want anything to do with me. Keith, now you can’t seem to get enough of me. Keith, I am going to lose my mind. Keith, Keith, Keith.

“Okay,” Lance says instead, quiet. He turns the key over in his hands. It looks like a regular white hotel key. It feels heavier, somehow. “Okay, I’ll meet you in twenty.”

Keith flashes a quick smile. It, too, is genuine, and Lance lips are quirking up to match before he can think about it.

“Liar. You’ve never taken less than a half hour shower in your life.”

“I have — so.”

Shaking his head, fondness bleeding from him, Keith steps forward, bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to Lance’s forehead. Lance feels all the air exit his body in one huge whoosh.

“I know you, goober. We got all night. Decompress. I’ll check the closet and under the bed before you get there. Don’t take too long.”

Lance stills. He watches after Keith with wide eyes. His heart, finally calmed again, fucking races.

He’s never, not once in his life, told anyone about the — thing. With the — closets, and under the bed. Not one person; not even Hunk.

It’s stupid, is what it is.

But Lance’s older cousin was kind of a — jerk. And when they were kids he would make these freaky fucking paintings with red eyes and smudged faces and — hide them, in Lance’s closet or dresser drawers or under his bed, and convince him they would come to life in the night and posses him, and it was so fucking dumb, but Lance has always been gullible and it used to scare the shit out of him, because he would never know when they would appear and it would just — freak him out. All the time. Unless he checked his entire room once in the daytime before sleeping, he would never be able to fall asleep.

And he’s never fucking — told anyone about that. Because as a kid it was terrifying to say out loud and as he got older it was just embarrassing. But Keith knows, somehow.

Keith knows.

Lance exhales, air whistling sharply from between his teeth, “Whatever. Whatever. You know what? Whatever,” and stomps over to the elevator. “This is — I’m going to shower. And not think. I don’t — whatever.”

He stews the whole way up to his room. He stews as the key doesn’t fucking work in the slot until the fourth try. He stews as he yanks off his armour and flings it into a random corner, relishing in the heavy thud as it hits the wall, hoping it cracks. He stews as he angrily presses all the buttons in the shower and hops in, cussing as he’s assaulted with an onslaught of hot-cold-hot-cold-soap-soap-soap, aggressively blinking away the sting in his eye and cursing the very air molecules around him. He stews the entire fucking forty minute shower, although admittedly he does, by the ten minute mark, start to calm down a little.

By the time he steps onto the bathmat, he’s just — tired.

“Whatever,” he sighs to himself again, but this time it’s more weary than anything. “Just — I guess. Sure. Whatever.”

There’s a fancy complimentary robe folded neatly on the stack of towels. He swallows the lump in his throat, thinking of his beautiful blue one, now ashes with the rest of the castle.

“Whatever,” he repeats to himself, firmly. Eventually he manages to blink the tears away.

The walk to Keith’s room is short, and cold, and probably embarrassing, since he is in a robe and slippers and a twisty shower hat, but he’s too drained to care. Every step is heavy. By the time he manages to slide the key in the lock — this key cooperates, go fucking figure — and shove the heavy door open, he feels…precarious.

Fragile, maybe.

It takes one look from Keith, one flash of soft indigo eyes and bedsheets untucked and folded over like he likes them and a nightlight shining low on the side table, for him to simply burst into tears.

“It has been a long fucking day,” he sobs.

“It sure as shit has,” Keith agrees, opening his arms, and Lance doesn’t bother thinking before collapsing into them, curling into Keith’s lap and tucking under his chin. Keith grips him tightly and squeezes, and it feels so strangely familiar and so perfect that it’s simply too much for Lance to worry about. He does not have the energy. It’s just — too good, and he’s so tired, and if this is all a trick or a dream or anything like that then he’ll handle it in the fucking morning. Right now Keith is warm and he’s a real fucking person offering real fucking affection with absolutely zero strings attached, none of them, and Lance is allowed to have nice things, actually, it’s written right the in paladin handbook, he knows because he wrote it there himself.

He can just — have this one thing.

“Let’s just sleep for a few thousand years,” Keith says, and he sounds exhausted as Lance does.

And if this is a dream than there’s absolutely nothing to lose, and also whatever, truly, so Lance gives fully into every impulse he’s been too ashamed to even admit in his own head and leans up to kiss him squarely on the lips. He is warm and sweet and tastes like toothpaste, and he kisses back without a second of hesitation, and his hands cup the side of Lance’s face and his calloused thumb brushes across his cheekbones, and it’s everything Lance could ever want it to be, and it makes all the horrible everything melt away. So Lance says screw you, universe, and kisses him until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open, and then he tucks in next to him and relishes in his arm over his waist and falls asleep faster than he ever has in his life listening to Keith’s heartbeat.

This is where the situation starts.

———

based on this thread

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callmelyc · 9 months

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Witch Keith, he turns into a cat and sits on the beach sometimes to get out of his own mind. When he's in cat form less people approach him and he's doesn't have to respond since ppl are weary of black cats.

But one day a guy approaches him as the waves brush gently over his paws.

"Hey there little kitty, the water isn't bothering you?" He says and Keith just huffs in response earning a chuckle "mind if I join you?"

Keith ignores him for a bit hoping the man would leave but he doesn't. Instead the guy takes off his shoes and sits next to Keith, let's the waves lap at his feet while staring out at the sea in silence.

They sit in a surprisingly companionable silence, it's the first time in a long time Keith hasn't minded the company. He nearly forgets the guy is there until he speaks again.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to be the sea?"

The question is so sudden Keith finds himself giving the man a curious head tilt.

"It's so vast, so full of depth yet the tides always return....it's gentle yet viscous but people love it all the same."

Keith can't help but shift closer still maintaining a gap between them. The man turns gifting Keith the kindest smile he's seen from a stranger "does it not scare you? To be so small in a vastness so large?"

He stares in response gaining one last chuckle from the man before watching the guy stand "I'll see you later kitty, don't get swept away by the waves now."

As Keith watches him leave he feels like he's already been swept away and it wasn't by the waves.

#lance vld #vld lance #lance mcclain #voltron #vld #keith kogane #pre klance #lance returns a few times and keith eventually learns his name #but for now its the start of stange encounters with a guy that goes to the beach to have his existential crisis

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dolittlephd · 7 months

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for your consideration:

when lance sits down in blue by himself for the very first time, she has a feeling he'd like to listen to some music, and she tunes into the space-radio station she feels best-fits her lovely paladin's vibe at any given moment. lance has never had to ask; he assumes this is just a feature of all the lions.

when they switch, lance is unaccustomed to the deafening silence inside red--she's all crackling flame and machinery and whooshing and dead, empty space. it's crippling, and early-on he works up the courage to ask her if she could by any chance pull up some tunes. red goes "just a second. have to ask." and her consciousness slips from him for a moment before returning, content. "blue says you sing well. we will have music." and then there's the radio, flipping to songs that tend towards a higher bpm because red is a fast-paced gal.

keith on the other hand, after days of singing "flyin' in the red lion" on repeat, asked red if she had any music. she hesitated, sent him a blunt "no." and went quiet on the subject forever.

bonus: across the galaxies there are planets and satellites with a soft spot for earth music and so occasionally ping-ponging around in the universe there will be transmissions of grainy songs from earth that have made it big in space. blue will still let red know when she picks up an earth station so that she can play it for lance and he can feel a little closer to home.

word of keith's tone-deafness has reached black, so "flyin in the black lion" it is. legend has it to this day he still doesn't know about lion radio.

#this is a slightly ashamed voltron post in the year of our lord 2023 #vld headcanons #space gays #is it klance no but please know that everything i say ever actually is #lance mcclain #keith kogane #vld #i miss them #can we do it again only better #i guess this happens post-lion swap but pre BOM keith which tbh is my favorite place to exist

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the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 1 year

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Staring

This is based off a mix of my own post and @klance-brainrot tags on the post. Post (with tags) here!

Authors Note:

I’m not condoning or encouraging people to pierce themselves, please go to a professional for your piercings

-----

Lance was aware he was staring, he didn’t need Hunk to be shaking him slightly or Pidge to be waving their hand in his face. He knew he was staring. Staring was bad and rude and he knew he shouldn’t but he wasn’t sure if he was going insane or not.

His rival, Keith fucking Kogane had facial piercings. Not just one, not just two but six piercings. The silver metal shined under the sun where he sat with Commander W, or Adam as he preferred to be called by everyone.

Keith nodded his head at whatever Adam was saying, fiddling with the metal hoop to the left side of his lip with his fingers.

Lance rubbed his eyes, hard. Hard enough to leave black spots dancing in his vision. He had to be hallucinating. He had been toe to toe with him, they shared classes together, and he had spoken to him for crying out loud. Lance would have noticed a piercing, let alone six.

“Lance! Snap out of it. You’re scaring me,” Hunk anxiously spoke beside him.

“I’mma smack him,” Pidge raised their arm and Lance raised his own to stop their swing.

“Am I dreaming or does Keith have piercings?”

Hunk and Pidge turned in sync to stare at the raven-haired boy, Lance groaning at their lack of stealth.

“Looks like he does,” Pidge said in a slightly monotone voice.

Hunk nodded, turning back to face Lance. “He looks good in them.”

“They have to be real right?”

Hunk and Pidge nodded.

“Does he like...take them out for school hours?” It was a Sunday, the only day of the week they didn’t have to wear the orange uniforms or follow most protocols.

Pidge shrugged their shoulders, “probably, he doesn’t seem like someone who would wear fake jewelry.”

---

Ever since that day, every Sunday became a slight adventure for Lance. He slowly began to notice more and more metal on his rival. An industrial on his right ear, how both his ear lobes had three piercings all the way up, some other ones that Lance didn’t know the name for. He was decked out.

Lance was walking to meet up with some classmates for a small study session, passing Keith and Adam sitting outside in the sun. Adam was scooping some ice cream onto a spoon while Keith had a cone.

Lance nearly walked into a wall as Keith licked his ice cream; did he have a tongue piercing?

---

Lance never found out if what he saw was actually correct. A week later news was released that the Kerberos mission failed and all three members were supposedly killed due to a crash. Pilot error.

Keith and Adam stopped hanging out on Sundays.

The last Lance knew about him was he flunked out or was kicked out, the rumors changed a lot. Lance didn’t care, due to his leaving he was able to score a fighter pilot spot.

---

“Why are you staring at me?” Keith glared at Lance from across the table; holding his spoon tightly with annoyance.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wasn’t staring,” Lance averted his gaze. Maybe he was staring a little bit but Keith didn’t need to know that.

“You were. You’re always staring at me.”

The air felt tight, everyone was watching the two. Keith was usually pretty tolerant of his fellow blue paladin but everyone has a breaking point.

“Maybe I just think you need some skin care in your life,” Lance crossed his arms and sat back in his chair some.

Keith put his spoon down, standing from the table, “whatever.” He left the room quickly, leaving a suffocating silence.

---

“Lance, could I talk with you?” Shiro poked his head into Lance’s room.

“Uh sure?” He stood from where he was laying on his bed.

Shiro motioned for him to sit back down so he did. He wasn’t as freaked out around Shiro anymore but Shiro was still untouchable in his head. Almost like that cool kid in class you don’t talk to unless you’re in their circle of friends. Shiro was his idol, he never expected to be living on a spaceship with him, sharing meals, and training. He never expected Shiro to know he existed.

“So I talked with Keith.”

Lance internally groaned, that was never a good way to start a conversation. “Okay.”

Shiro took a deep breath, seeming a bit uncomfortable as well. “He says that you stare at him a lot and he would like it if you didn’t.”

“I don’t!” Lance stood, trying to will his embarrassment down.

“Lance.”

Lance looked at the ground, suddenly feeling like a scolded child. “I don’t mean to, I promise. He just...”

“He what? If he does something that bothers you, tell me so we can work on it with him.” Shiro's voice was light, he clearly was hoping for an easy solution to fix this problem.

Lance chewed on his lip, trying to come up with something on the spot that wasn’t just ‘I find his piercings attractive.’ “Umm...well....” His mind was blank.

“You can tell me, Lance. If it’s bad it can stay between us.”

“Ithinkhispiercingsarehot.” Lance mumbled out the words, slapping his hand over his mouth as soon as he realized what he said.

Shiro smiled for a brief second before his face fell bad into 'Dad Mode' as Pidge called it. “Okay.”

“I don’t mean to stare, but they’re cool okay? And he looked good with them...really good. And at the Garrison he didn’t have them in all the time so I didn’t get to see them and now I can look at them and I find them...cool.”

Shiro smiled, “I understand. You should ask him about it someday. He likes to share them with people.”

“Uh sure.” They talked for a bit longer before Shiro left, encouraging Lance once more to ask Keith about his piercings.

---

It took Lance three weeks to finally approach Keith. He did his best to only look when Keith couldn’t catch him. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he found him attractive or admire him in any way.

But he needed to know. Why did he only have them some of the time at the Garrison? What were they called? Did they hurt? Which one hurt the worst? And the most important question, did he actually have his tongue pierced?

“Hey mullet, can I talk to you?” He walked onto the training deck as Keith called for the bots to stop.

“Sure...?”

“Can I ask about your piercings...?” Lance hated how unconfident he sounded but Keith intimidated him in a sense. He had a crush on him, I mean look at him but Lance was never good at talking to people he found attractive. And piercings were his weakness.

Keith gave him a skeptical look, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Let me shower, and then yeah."

Lance nodded, “okay. Meet in the common room?"

Keith nodded and Lance bolted out of the training deck.

He waited anxiously in his common space, pacing back and forth, his fingers pulling at his hair. His heart was beating in his throat and he felt like he was going to be sick. He didn’t ever spend time with just Keith, he did his best to actively avoid it.

He knew his crush on Keith was small but after their bonding moment, he was head over heels for him. He didn’t really know how to navigate his feelings so he buried them under a false rivalry.

Keith entered the space about 10 minutes later. His hair was dropping slightly and the smell of his soap filled Lance’s senses.

Keith nodded and sat on the edge of the one couch. Lance opted to sit on the couch across from him. The silence grew around them and Keith shifted a bit in discomfort, “what did you want to ask?”

“Didtheyhurt? And which one hurt the worst?!”

Keith blinked a couple of times, his mind trying to decipher what Lance said. “I mean...they didn’t not hurt, it’s a needle going through my skin.”

Lance nodded, that made sense.

“And for the pain, the healing process was the worst for them. My industrial,” he gestured towards the bar going between the upper cartilage of his ear. “The healing process for this was long and kind of annoying but not too bad. My septum,” he touched the horseshoe metal going through his nose, “felt like I was punched in the face for a week after. That healing time was really annoying. I won’t even lie. But the most painful that actually made me swear was my right nostril.” He poked the small stud that sat in his nose.

“Why did that one hurt so much?”

Keith shrugged, “I don’t know, the left one didn’t hurt at all.”

“You got them done at the same time?”

“Basically, same session.”

Lance leaned forward some, “what’s that one called?” He pointed towards the metal that sat at the top of Keith's nose between his eyes.

“I don’t know which one you’re talking about?”

Lance stood from his couch, making his way over to the other boy; flopping down right next to him. “This one.” He hovered his finger above the spot, not daring to touch the other boy's skin.

“Oh, it’s called the bridge.”

“Did that one hurt a lot?” Lance reached up and pinched the same spot on his face, wincing a bit at the pain.

“Not as much as the other ones.”

Lance lowered his hand, “what’s that one called?” He pointed towards his ear.

Keith smiled softly and began listing each piercing as he gently touched each one. On his right ear, he had his industrial, his daith, anti-helix, and the three up his lobe. His left ear had the three up his lobe, his tragus, helix, rook, snug, and conch done, and apparently had had plans to get his anti-helix done on that ear as well.

On his face he had his bridge, an eyebrow piercing on his left eyebrow, both of his nostrils, his septum, and a hoop on the left side of his bottom lip.

He explained how he did some of them himself but most of them came from professionals that didn't ask for an ID or parental consent.

"Why did you only have them in on Sundays at school?"

"I had to take them out for classes. Thankfully none of them ever closed up since I put them back in after dinner. Took like thirty minutes to put them in and take them out." Keith chuckled.

“Is that all you have?” Lance didn’t realize how close he was to Keith's face until Keith moved his head back slightly; his cheeks tinted pink.

“I’m not taking my shirt off.”

Lance blinked, “wh-what?! Why would you do that? Do you have your belly button done or something?!”

“...nevermind.”

Lance crossed his arms some, leaning back from the other boy. “You don’t have any more in your face area?”

Keith smirked at him, “no.”

“Show me your tongue!”

Keith clenched his jaw, shaking his head no.

Lance borderline lunged at him, tackling him down on the couch slightly, “come on Keithhhhhh just show meeeeeeee.” He managed to grab his jaw slightly, trying to push his jaw open from the outside of his cheeks.

Keith grabbed his wrist, gripping slightly as he shook his head no, a playful smile on his face. It was a game for both of them.

Lance felt his jaw open ever so slightly, his lips still pressed closed. “Come on Keith, if you have nothing to hide why can’t I just see it-”

“What is going on in here?!” Shiro stood in the doorway, his face scrunched up in a confused expression.

Lance borderline flew off the other boy, his face burning with embarrassment. “I uh..I..” he looked at Keith who was chuckling slightly, pushing himself up some.

“Everything is fine. I was just showing Lance my piercings.”

“Oh...well,” Shiro cleared his throat, “I was looking for Keith and Hunk said he saw him come in here. Sorry to interrupt whatever that was.”

“You’re fine, I’ll be right there," Keith gestured to Shiro to leave the room who did quickly.

Keith turned to look back at Lance who was still fighting the urge to fall into a ball and cry from embarrassment. “See you around sharpshooter,” he stuck his tongue out slightly, just enough to show the silver ball that sat on his tongue.

He left the room with a smirk and Lance slumped to the ground; his knees feeling a bit weak. Keith was officially the death of him.

-----

This was so much fun to write!!!!!

Thank you for reading <333333

#klance #pre klance #keith #keith kogane #keith vld #keith voltron #keith voltron legendary defender #piercings #facial piercings #keith is decked out your honor #lance #lance vld #lance voltron #lance voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #lance is swooned #long post #my wirting #posted on a03

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