Slowly. He had to do this slowly. If he took it inch by inch, barely moving, he’ll eventually be able to gently break free and then he can —
Lance makes a soft groaning noise, and Keith freezes immediately, every muscle in his body going completely still. He even holds his breath, doing everything he can to stay as steady as possible. He will not so much as twitch, so help him God.
Lance exhales softly, almost sighing, and his face smooths as he shifts. His arms loosen from their vice grip around Keith’s torso — Lance is a koala cuddler, latches onto Keith like a boa constrictor every night and denies it every morning — and he falls back against his many pillows, hair tangled around his head in messy curls.
Keith, finally free from Lance’s hold, props himself up on his elbow and takes a moment to just… look, at Lance. The love of his life. He follows the steep slope of his straight nose, splattered with freckles. His eyes trace the full cupid’s bow of his lips. The sun-darkened expanse of his smooth skin. The fluttering of his long, dark eyelashes with every exhale. His arms, lanky and graceful and gorgeous and clumsy all the same, rest bonelessly around his head, fingers of his right hand tangled in his hair.
He’s the most beautiful thing Keith has ever seen — so beautiful that Keith feels the ache of him in his heart, in his chest, in his bones. He can feel the phantom imprints of Lance everywhere on his skin. In fingerprint-shaped bruises on his shoulders from where Lance gripped him tightly, last night, as he held on to Keith and they got closer, closer, closer until they were as close as they could be without melding their flesh together, until they were connected, both of them, as one. He felt Lance in the laughter lines he knew he was getting in the corner of his eyes, because Lance was his laughter, the very joy in Keith’s heart. He felt Lance in the want in his hands, the desperate need to touch and touch and never pull away.
He could never fight that urge for long.
He reached over — slowly, gently, lovingly — and traced featherlight fingertips over the shape of Lance’s forehead, brushing through his dark hair and over his soft skin. He traced loops and swirls into the angular sharpness of his cheeks, lips quirking up as he felt the roughness there from the faint hairs that have yet to be shaved this early in the new morning. He finally made his way to Lance’s lips, resting his thumb on the plumpness of the thin skin, Lance’s slow and even puffs of breath sending goosebumps up his fingers.
“You are everything good in the world,” Keith whispers, as he leans down to brush his lips on Lance’s forehead.
Lance groans again, arching forward a little, limbs still heavy with sleep. His eyes stay closed, but his breathing changes, less rhythmic.
“Stay,” he mumbles.
Keith chuckles. “I have to go meet Shiro.”He leans down to press another kiss to Lance’s forehead, quick and careful. But before he can pull away, Lance wraps lethargic arms around Keith’s neck.
“Stay,” he says again. Pleads.
Keith feels himself five in almost immediately. Lance isn’t even awake. His eyes are still shut, and Keith recognises the honey-slow slur and heavy accent to his words, knows he’s still deeply entrenched in dreamland.
Keith rakes his eyes over Lance, again, taking him in, feeling the weight of his arms and the rise and fall of their chests breathing together, and — and.
He collapses back onto the bed, laying on his side. He tugs Lance closer to him, flush along his body, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Lance, sleep drunk as he is, doesn’t hesitate to burrow closer, settling into Keith’s arms with a sigh.
Keith smiles, his own eyes closing again, his limbs resettling into sleep.
Shiro can wait.
As he’s dropping off, thoughts unraveling, he presses on last kiss to Lance’s hair.
“I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved or will ever love again.”
And he falls off into sleep, warm in the arms of the man who shines brighter than any sun, than any star. Secure in the knowledge that he’ll wake up, later, to Lance’s smile and Lance’s love and Lance and Lance and Lance.
Sleep comes easily.
Keith had never believed people when they told him that dogs were not intelligent creatures. Growing up, he’d heard the same thing over and over again — dogs don’t have very big brain capacity, they could understand commands to a degree but not follow a conversation, et cetera, et cetera. Keith, stubborn as he was and is, remained steadfast in his belief that they were all wrong. Then he was 20, in space, part of Voltron, he found that he was right. Dogs are smart.
His dog, especially, is very intelligent.
Now, some people might assume that he has come to this conclusion because his dog is excellent at following commands. Or maybe because Kosmo was one of his only sources of company, on that space whale, so perhaps Keith believed they could converse. A more logical person might assume that Keith has observed Kosmo to be intelligent because, perhaps, he is an alien, and therefore not technically a dog.
They would all be incorrect. Keith knows his dog is intelligent because his dog is the most spiteful little shit he’s ever met.
Don’t get him wrong — Kosmo is the goodest boy in the universe. Keith now fully understands all those John Wick movies — if someone hurt Kosmo, Keith would go feral. He would go batshit insane. He’d kill some people. He loves his dog.
His dog is still a motherfucker.
Not once, in the two years they were on that space whale, did Kosmo follow even one of his commands. ‘Sit?’ No. ‘Stop jumping on people?’ Don’t kid yourself. ‘Please stop screaming at the moon in the dead of night when I’m trying to sleep?’ Forget it. ‘Fetch?’ In your fucking dreams. At first, Keith was like, okay. Whatever, you know? Maybe alien dogs don’t do commands. Maybe Kosmo doesn’t speak English. Krolia tried a few commands in Galran, to no effect. Eventually, he and Krolia gave up. It was fine. Kosmo was a pretty well behaved dog when he wanted to be, which was occasionally. He just didn’t follow commands — he can’t! He’s incapable.
And then Kosmo met Lance, and Keith knew his dog was a dirty liar.
“—as soon as they get back, we need to —”
Lance’s loud gasp cuts off what Keith is trying to say, so Keith turns towards him, a reprimand prepared on his tongue, only for words to fail him. Lance is staring at the space behind Keith, dark brown eyes wide and elated, beam so bright Keith feels the force of it settle heavily in his bone marrow.
“Is that a puppy?!”
Upon hearing the call, Kosmo perks right up, tail wagging so fast it blurs, and bounds right over to Lance.
All 200 pounds of him, full speed, straight towards Lance, who is scrawny as a string bean and maybe 120 pounds soaking wet.
Keith foresees some injuries.
“Wait, Kosmo, no jumping —”
Kosmo, of course, does not heed Keith’s command, and is far too fast for Krolia to grab hold of him. He continues to barrel towards the Cuban, and Keith feels time slow as Kosmo zooms forward. He squeezes his eyes shut, knowing poor Lance is going to go flying, and dammit he was going to be so mad at Keith —
Keith blinks his eyes open only to see, right clearly in front of him, his traitor of a dog sitting, patiently, in front of Lance. Tail wagging and tongue lolling out in a big doggy grin.
Keith’s jaw drops. He hears Krolia mutter incredulously behind him.
“Oh, who’s a good, strong, well-behaved boy, huh?” Lance coos, dropping to his knees in front of Kosmo in order to adequately shower him in affection. “You are the sweetest, most wonderfullest dog in the universe, aren’t you?”
Kosmo howls louder, batting his head forwards — gently! So fucking gently! Keith had never seen that little brat be gentle even once in his life! Once, Kosmo had tackled Keith right into a pile of rocks! He’d gotten a concussion! — in glee. Lance laughs, bright and loud, and Keith flushes in spite of his frustration.
“What’s your name, boy, huh?”
“Kosmo,” Keith answers weakly, because the dog can’t damn well do it himself (unless he has some other abilities he’s been hiding, the fucker).
“Kosmo, please know I love you more than anything ever,” Lance says, ignoring Hunk’s offended ‘hey!’ in the background.
Lance pays him no mind and continues to lavish Kosmo with love, and Kosmo eats it all up as if he’s been starved. As if Keith has not provided him with hourly smooches and cuddles since he was a literal baby.
After several minutes of Keith staring in incredulous (and, okay, perhaps affectionate) silence, Krolia clears her throat.
“Urgent business, Keith,” she reminds him.
“Oh, uh, right —”
Keith goes on to explain the crisis with Lotor, emphasizing the danger they’re all in, but he’s — distracted. Suddenly he wishes he hadn’t cut Lance off earlier, wishes he had given him the hug he asked for. Keith swallows, throat dry.
He’ll make it up to him.
He doesn’t really get to apologise to Lance, not in the way that he’d like. They’re just so busy, so chaotic, in between dealing with Lotor and losing the Castle and getting the real Shiro back — it’s just been a mess. Not that it’s an excuse, but it’s at least a reason.
Finally, though, a few weeks after the Lotor Incident, everyone is nicely settled on a planet, ready to camp for the night.
Keith, now starting to get comfortable again in his role as leader (with a lot of help from Lance, which shouldn’t make his heart pound and face light up with a pleased flush but does anyway because he’s a whipped loser, unfortunately), assigns everyone with a task, then sets about scouring the area to make sure they’ll be safe to sleep for the night.
When he comes back, area secured, he’s surprised to find himself alone at the campsite. The others must be taking their time, maybe doing chores together and chatting. That’s fine. They’ve got nowhere to be.
“Here, boy, you wanna try something new?”
Apparently not Lance, though. Keith jogs over to where he heard Lance’s voice, only to find him crouching in front of Kosmo, holding a decently sized stick from the pile of firewood he’s gathered behind him. Keith snorts. Lance may have more luck getting Kosmo to listen than the rest of them, but fetch is a lost cause.
“Don’t waste your breath, Lance,” Keith calls, startling the Cuban a little. “Kosmo doesn’t do fetch.”
Lance rolls his eyes, corners of his lips quirking up. “Animals tend to listen to me. I think I can do it.”
“I dunno. Kosmo is the stubbornest bitch I’ve ever met, next to you,” Keith teases.
Lance scoffs, but he’s grinning. “Oh, okay, Mr. I-Tried-To-Fight-Zarkon-With-My-Fists.”
Keith laughs. He’s missed this — their banter, the teasing, the poorly-covered affection. He’s missed Lance.
“Yeah, yeah, Cargo Pilot. Go ahead. Try it.”
Lance’s grin turns sharp, and Keith swallows. Somehow, someway, in his time away, he’d forgot how sexy Lance is when he’s being cocky.
“Watch and learn, Dropout.”
Without another beat he’s turning back towards Kosmo, who looks smugly (damn dog) at Keith before turning wide, falsely-innocent eyes towards his new best friend.
“Are you ready, sweet boy?” Lance coos, and Kosmo barks excitedly, hopping around.
“Okay, buddy! See this stuck here?”
He holds the stick out towards Kosmo, who sniffs it. Lance praises him heavily, reaching into his pocket and tossing him a treat.
“Yes, that’s right! Good boy!”
Kosmo yips, and Lance smiles, patting his head. “Now, here’s the next part — when I move the stick, you’re gonna follow it, okay?”
Lance slowly and gently moves the stick as far as he can to his left, keeping a hold on it, and Kosmo follows it dutifully.
Keith feels that earlier incredulousness bubbling back up. No fucking way.
“Excellent, Kosmo! Good job!” Lance gives him another treat, making Kosmo’s tail wag faster.
“Okay, buddy, last step: I’m gonna throw the stick, and then you’re gonna go bring it back for me, okay? And then you can have another treat. You ready?”
Kosmo honest-to-God nods, and Lance draws the stick back, before launching forward with a good amount of strength.
“Go fetch, Kosmo!”
Kosmo bounds after the stick immediately, howling loudly as he does. Keith’s jaw drops.
Lance smirks at him. “Yes way. Told ya.”
“Fuck off, it doesn’t count unless he bring it back, and he won’t.”
He fucking better not, the little asshole. Keith tried to teach him fetch for three goddamn months.
No sooner do the words leave his mouth does Kosmo come tearing across the field, stick clamped firmly in his jaws. He skids to a stop in front of Lance, dropping the stick at his feet, then sits, tongue lolling out expectantly.
“Oh, Kosmo, you’re so smart! Good, good boy!”
Lance gives him his treat, which Kosmo devours, and then the damn dog turns toward Keith, huffs, and prances off with his snout in the air. As if he’s the one who’s been offended.
Lance cackles. Keith sputters.
“Why — he just — that little turd!”
Keith’s indignance makes Lance laugh harder, hunching over and clutching his waist.
“Y — your face —”
Keith can’t bring himself to be truly mad, not in the direct presence of Lance’s musical laughter.
Doesn’t stop him from putting Lance in a headlock and fucking up his hair, though. Keith may be in love with him, but he has some dignity left, and he’s not gonna stand there, moony-eyes, as someone laughs at him. (Is he going to high dreamily about it later? …Possibly.)
Later, in his tent, Kosmo sprawled on top of him, Keith sighs, dragging a hand down his face. He keeps his other hand where is is, scratching Kosmo under the chin.
“Is this because I told you stories about mostly Lance on the space whale?” he whispers. “Is that why you listen to him?”
Kosmo turns his big round eyes towards Keith, blinking slowly. Obviously, he doesn’t answer.
“I think it is. I think I said the name Lance too often when you were a puppy, and it hardwired into your brain, or something.”
Kosmo leans over a licks a long, wet stripe up Keith’s face, making him laugh and shove him away. “Gross, you goober. Now I got slobber all over my face. Ugh.”
He still leans forward and plants a big kiss on his dumb dog’s forehead, even if that dog is a slobbery traitor who does not deserve Keith’s kisses. (Who is he kidding. Kosmo could body slam Keith off a cliff and he’d still give him as many kisses as he wants. Keith loves his dog.)
“Turncoat,” he mutters into think fur. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, but with all the simping you’re doing for Lance he’s gonna like you better than me, and then I don’t get a chance.”
He huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes at himself. “God, I need to go to sleep.”
He presses another kiss to Kosmo’s head before collapsing backwards, crossing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.
He dreams of him and Lance and Kosmo, in a house of their own, overlooking the ocean.
based off this post
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Romelle/Shiro (Voltron), Acxa/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron)/Everyone, Hunk/Romelle (Voltron), Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), James Griffin/Keith (Voltron)
Characters: Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Matt Holt, Shiro's Father (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Romelle (Voltron), Acxa (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), James Griffin (Voltron), Veronica (Voltron), Lotor (Voltron)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Charming AU, Princes & Princesses, Magic, Fairy blessing, Prince Shiro (Voltron), Rogue Keith, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Comp Het Shiro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Adventure & Romance, Endgame Sheith, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), True Love's Kiss, True Love, Slow Burn, Cuddling & Snuggling, Huddling For Warmth, Serious discussions about cutlery, Mild Angst, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Communication Failure, Implied Sexual Content, semi-shirtless wrestling, Blood and Injury, Scars, Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Jealousy, Implied James/Keith - Freeform, Past James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), Alcohol, enchanted forest, Fate- and by fate I meant the author- desires that you not figure your shit out yet
Series: Part 1 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Chapter 20: Chapter 19 is up
Shiro, Keith, and Allura find themselves unexpectedly joining a fae party to celebrate the return of a handsome prince. Three guesses who that might be!