#there's a bit of Klance in this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anonymouszephyrus · 1 month

Note

Keith's really smart but doesn't fully understand humor so he'll pretend not to know some pop culture thing or extremely essential piece of knowledge for the bit and everyone takes him seriously and now everyone on the ship thinks he not only doesn't know what Legos are but also didn't know the difference between blue and green until Voltron.

Now... At first, I couldn't whether this was supposed to be a request for me to write until I actually started reading it and my little brain processed the damn thing. So here it is <3

(I may have gone way too off the script but oh well. I really liked it NFKJAN It's short but oh well, whoever wants to use it- go ahead. Have fun!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Keith."

Lance stared back at him with a perplexed, almost offended look in his eyes. The red paladin was almost tempted to stop the act and laugh in his face at how gobsmackingly stupid he looked right now. "Don't be fucking with me right now."

The blue paladin looked so serious and so utterly cute as he stared down at Keith on the floor, "What?" Keith answered, tilting his head a bit as he looked up at Lance.

"Are you colorblind?" He asked, moving closer to him, "Or just actually clueless?"

Keith couldn't help but give out a small chuckle, "I'm not colorblind, Lance. I'm quite sure of that."

It had been just a few weeks since the 'reveal' that Keith didn't know what Legos were.. that was fine, apparently. Not everyone had the option of having those little foot-breaking blocks... no, the thing Lance was so offended and disgruntled by was the fact that Keith mistook his blue lion for Pidge's. Not only were they different sizes, but Lance was so offended that his beauty of a lion was being compared to Pidge's snarky and "know-it-all" one. No offense, Pidge. He said before.

He might have chalked it up to Keith being slightly colorblind or his Galran heritage having something to do with the way he sees color... but the red paladin have proved before that he did know the difference between the two lions.. and now, Lance was utterly convinced he was just doing it to fuck with him.

"You're such a bitch." Keith laughed at his reaction, the very nerve!

How could he just sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?! It seemed as though Keith took pleasure in tormenting him, mocking him with his laughter and leaving Lance feeling foolish and inadequate. The audacity of that little shit...

This infuriatingly bossy, annoying, devious, stubborn, hot-headed, irresistible-

The blue paladin stared at him. Stared at how Keith laughed, realizing he didn't do it very often. He sat there and stared at him, for a long time he now realized.

With a sudden gesture, Keith waved his hand in front of Lance's eyes, jolting him out of his daze. Lance's gaze locked onto the red paladin, realizing that Keith had stealthily closed the distance while Lance was lost in his thoughts. As Lance stared back, mesmerized by Keith's captivating eyes—a mesmerizing blend of swirling black and purple, sprinkled with specks of dark blue—he couldn't help but think how stunning Keith looked up close. However, Lance's mind abruptly snapped back to reality. Wait.

Oh dear.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

24 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

Keith thinks he might actually sink into his bed, that’s how goddamn tired he is.

It’s just been — such a long day. Painfully long. Keith thought dragging his brother out of Black’s astral plane would make things less stressful, but nooooo. Of course not. That would be too easy. Of course Shiro decides he doesn’t want the Black Paladin title back, and that, actually, he’d like to retire. Of course Keith can in no way find it within himself to force his brother, who only ever wanted to explore, back into the crushing expectations of the leader of the universe’s strongest weapon.

So. It’s just — a lot.

There weren’t even any missions today. Honestly, Keith prefers mission days — they’re a one-and-done kind of deal. You fly into battle, you think you’re gonna die, you panic about your friends dying, usually no one dies, you either complete the mission or you don’t, you go home. Of course there’s the soul crushing terror and overuse of energy that comes at the price of actual genuine years off his life, but that’s so clearly a Future Keith problem. Once Keith parks Black into the hangar he can Stop Thinking About it, except of course for the horrifying and endless nightmares.

But all this planning shit is horrendous.

First of all, Keith is an action guy. An investigation guy too, sometimes, if there is conspiracy involved (and/or some fuckass has challenged him in any way no matter how minuscule), but what he is not is a tactician guy. A planning guy. That kind of shit is for people who have crippling anxiety and are plagued with constant thoughts about how everything can and will go wrong. That’s why it’s a job for Lance. And Allura. And Hunk. And Shiro.

But not Keith. Keith prefers to walk blindly into dangerous situations and deal with whatever is thrown at him after. Black Paladin Keith, however, motherfucker that he is, has to sit down in meetings for a thousand hours and listen to people argue and try not to wish death and curses upon a myriad of irritating Coalition leaders and allies.

Keith needs a goddamn nap.

Not even bothering to take off his boots, and ignoring the Lance-shaped voice in his head squawking about how disgusting that is, Keith stuffs his face into his pillow, reaching blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to his ears. He is going to Sleep, goddamnit. He is going to keep his comm where it is, stuffed under his mattress, and pass the hell out, to be woken only by some terrible and glorious act of God herself. The universe and all its associates can take an hour to kindly piss the hell off and leave Keith alone.

A knock sounds on his door.

Keith screams. Loudly.

“Keith?” calls a voice, muffled through the doorway, and of course it is the one person in the entire world who Keith has never and will never be able to say no to.

“Hnnnnnngh,” Keith responds. He actually tears up, a little.

The door slides open. Hunk pokes his head in, smile sweet and guilty and hopeful.

“I’m going to swallow engine oil,” Keith anguishes.

“Maybe don’t,” Hunk suggests lightly.

Keith groans again, shoving his head back into the pillow. Hunk patiently waits for Keith to get his shit together enough to lift his head again. Probably because he knows he’s more effective if he can manipulate Keith via facial expressions. Ugh. Keith should ask if he can return his friends. Get store credit, maybe. It’s not worth it.

Hunk smiles sunnily when Keith manages to pull away from his pillow, proving his point. Keith scowls extra hard at him.

“I am busy, Hunk.”

“I need parts,” he pleads, hands pressed together and under his chin. “Pretty pretty please.”

“You have a lion that you can pilot yourself!”

“I need the parts for the lion. Duh.”

Keith groans again. He should say no. He probably can say no. If it was urgent, Coran would be flying the castle for the parts. Hunk is coming to Keith because he knows damn well that Keith is a sucker with a saviour complex. Keith is not going to give in this time.

…Except he is so. Because he is a sucker with a fucking saviour complex.

Fuck.

“You’re bumped down to third favourite,” Keith grouches, rolling off the bed and allowing himself three seconds to sprawl on the floor.

“Yeah, right,” Hunk snorts.

Keith growls. Hunk, wisely, chooses against anymore teasing or commentary, deciding instead to quickly back away and head back down to his workshop.

“Okay thanks Keith bye! Love you bunches!”

Keith rolls his eyes, fighting off the smile that traitorously wants to fight it’s way across his lips, and reaches for his comm to get the details of Hunk’s errand.

“I am going to fucking bite him,” he says, carefully controlled, as he reads the message.

MISSION SHOULD YOU ACCEPT: get parts for hunk because you love him so

OBJECTIVE: obtain 174g of Noxalian black ore (pure as possible)

PEOPLE NECESSARY: two so you should take lance probably ;)

LOCATION: Noxalia-1242

DANGER LEVEL: like -2 but you’re so whipped for lance that it probably brings it up to like a 12 lol. loser

He’s red in the ears and it’s goddamn annoying, is what it is, because these are official mission documents, Hunk, which means they are technically public Coalition information once the mission has been completed. Public.

Hunk is the worst out of all of them for that. He actually had the highest record of diplomatic incidents caused, because he is actually physically incapable of keeping his comments to himself and this can, as one might anticipate, offend a large number of people.

But since he is a good fucking friend (the best, maybe) especially because his friends are class four menaces who do not deserve it in the slightest, Keith drags himself away from his bedroom and towards the materials room, where he knows Lance is.

He makes his frustration known.

Despite the fact that he was stomping like a petulant child and Lance has ears akin to the sonar receptors of a Navy submarine, Lance doesn’t react when he comes into the room, hunched as he is over a project of his.

Keith stops short. He grins wickedly, mood suddenly shifted.

Oh ho.

Oh ho ho.

Quieter, now, although he knows it doesn’t matter, Keith creeps towards the Red Paladin. He makes sure his footfalls are soundless and soft, just like he was taught by the Blades, and his body is directly behind Lance, in the blind spot of his peripheral vision. He focuses on the chair Lance is sitting on rather than his actual person so as to not envoy the feeling of being stared at. And quietly, quietly, he sneaks up behind him.

“RAH!” he shouts, seizing Lance’s shoulders and shaking them. Lance shrieks at the top of his lungs, jumping twelve cubic meters into the air, flailing wildly and sending his sketchbook flying at Keith’s face. Lance’s aim, as it always is, rings true, and the spine of the heavy book nails Keith directly on the bridge of his nose.

“Ow!” Keith yells, pain made worse by the heaving gasps of his laughter.

“¡Chingada madre de cráneo grueso!” Lance screams, hand pressed to his chest, and then, for Keith’s benefit, continues: “You mother fucker! You backwards, tumbleweed-guzzling, sand-eating, cow-fucking son of a minotaur! I’ll fucking get you! I’ll fucking — crush you to death! Come closer, Kogane, I swear to God I’ll wreck your shit —”

Breathless, weak, and wheezing, there’s nothing Keith can do to avoid Lance’s menacing advancing. He can’t even summon the strength to lift his arms to defend himself from Lance’s smacking. He just sits there, taking it, laughing harder every time he remembers just how fucking high Lance had jumped.

“You fucking — stop fucking laughing! Asshole!”

Lance’s expression is only growing more murderous. His mouth is pulled back in a snarl and he sure are shit isn’t pulling his punches. The only thing assuring Keith that he’s not genuinely about to die, curled on the floor, completely devoid of dignity, is the ever-present warmth in Lance’s brown eyes, even as they’re narrowed in fury.

“I — I’m sorry,” Keith wheezes, loosely wrapping his hands around Lance’s ankle as he kicks him. “Please. Oh my God. Stop. I cant breathe.”

“I hope you suffocate!” Lance shrieks.

“Lance, please,” Keith begs. With more strength than he knew he had, Keith heaves a giant, calming breath, shoving the image of Lance’s face as he’d practically flipped off the chair far into the recesses of his mind. Fuck. “I’m sorry. You were so focused. I couldn’t resist.”

Lance huffs. He kicks Keith one last time for prosperity before plopping on the floor next to him, scowl still affixed to his face, but lips twitching with a clear attempt to keep it there.

“I’m allowing your amusement because I laughed today when Senator Grmsx called you a toad. But watch your back.”

“Noted,” Keith says with amusement. He sighs, breath shuddering with the last of his laughter, and stretches out, sliding his feet under Lance’s thighs and resting the back of his skull on the floor. He stares at the ceiling until his vision gets unfocused and blurry, making the glowing blue streaks warp and swirl. He smiles slightly when he feels Lance��s arm hook around his bent knees.

“I got conned,” he laments, flipping his arms behind his head.

Lance hums. “Hunk?”

“Yep.”

“Capitalised on your intense need to do things for your friends to send you on errands?”

“Mhm.”

“Sucks to suck.”

Keith tucks his folded hands under his head and looks up at Lance, smiling in a mirror to Hunk, earlier, sweet and guilty and hopeful. “Well…”

Lance pulls away, waving his hands. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re not dragging me into your shit, Superman. You want to help everyone around you like the tryhard golden retriever you are, that’s a you problem. I’m a bitch on purpose so I can be errand-free.”

“Please?” Keith tries, batting his eyelashes. The thirteen year old version of himself in his head is dying of embarrassment. (Good. He can suffer for a bit. He used to insist on sleeping on the floor because sleeping on a bed was ‘too mainstream’.)

Lance glares at him. Keith can actually physically see his resolve breaking. He’s very smug about it.

“Ugh,” Lance says.

“Thank you,” Keith says, smirking.

“Ugh,” Lance says again, much more pointed. “Where are we even going?”

Keith climbs to his feet, offering a hand to pull Lance up, too. He stretches and shifts his shoulders, leading them both out of the material room and down to the hangars.

“Noxalia-1242. Hunk needs some kind of ore.”

Lance gasps, dropping Keith’s hand. It is then that Keith realises that they were holding hands, and chokes on his own spit.

“Noxalia-1242? You sure?”

“Yes,” Keith rasps, still dying. Lance doesn’t notice, beaming so wide his eyes are nearly forced shut. He lets out this shout of excitement and wiggles, a little, like he can’t contain himself, and it’s so fucking cute that Keith somehow chokes again, which he didn’t think was possible. There’s a genuine concern that he may pass away.

“You should’ve led with that! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

He sprints the rest of the way to Black’s hangar, dragging Keith along. Keith tries desperately to get ahold of himself. It works about 27%, which is way more than he was expecting.

Lance is practically bouncing in glee the entire trip, scrambling out of his seatbelt and twirling around the cabin the second they breach the castle’s orbit. He’s actually humming to himself. Keith’s grinning so wide it hurts, and he doesn’t even know why they’re excited. Lance is just — infectious, as he always is; bright and all-encompassing and sparkling.

It’s a struggle and a half to land, and not just because Lance is being distracting. (Or, well, that Keith is distracted by him. It’s not really Lance’s fault. Keith was once distracted by Lance yawning, for reasons he’s too embarrassed to admit even to himself.) The surface of the planet is slate grey and thick with swirling, furious clouds, and it’s a testament to Black’s power that they manage to stay mostly steady, because Keith is a good pilot but he well and truly can’t see shit. The landing is rough.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Lance urges, out of his seatbelt faster than Keith can blink and rushing him to get out of his. “Let’s go!”

“I’m coming, Jesus,” Keith mumbles, finally releasing that damn buckle. He has to sprint to keep up with Lance, following him to the slowly opening hatch.

When they get to the open door, Keith is assaulted with a gust of frigid air and a spray of water. He curses, ducking to the side, hiking his collar over his head so he doesn’t get too soaked. He wishes he’d known to bring his armour.

“Fuck, it’s — pouring!”

Lance laughs, delighted, and before Keith can even think to stop him he sprints down the ramp, into the rain, soaked to the bone immediately.

“Lance! Lance — come back here! What are you doing?!”

But Lance only laughs again, and Keith can’t hear it because of a roar of thunder but he can see it in the giant grin on Lance’s face, open-mouthed, and the way he squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back and opens his arms to the skies like he’s worried the rain isn’t soaking enough of him.

“You’re going to get pneumonia, you anaemic dumbass!” Keith shouts.

“Come join me!” Lance shouts back.

The worst part is that Keith doesn’t even think.

He stumbles down the ramp without even a second of hesitation, before he’d even realized he’d moved, cursing the whole time, shocked with the sudden onslaught of cold and windy and wet. There’s something about the way Lance said it, not come out here not it’s just rain, dorkus not come get wet!, but come join me. Like it’s not about the rain but about the rain with Lance.

The very iron in Keith’s blood is pulled to him like the world’s strongest magnet.

“If I wanted to get soaked for no reason I’d jump in the pool fully clothed,” Keith grumbles, but there’s a breathless quality to his voice that cannot he muffled.

For the first time since he sprinted out of Black like a madman, Lance tears his face away from the heavens, looking at Keith with eyes that seem impossibly dark with from the reflection of the clouds, almost black as the storm.

“You hate the rain?”

“Yes!” Keith says emphatically, but he hears his own voice like a distant echo, far away. Lance’s laughter is bright and feels louder than the thunder, like clinking gold bangles. Keith’s heart drops to his stomach and his eyes go wider than planets.

Lance turns, slowly, hands still spread wide, face easy and open and peaceful in a way Keith has never seen on him, turned back up the the pelting rain, every droplet doing something to him that makes him glow.

“How could anyone hate the rain?”

Suddenly, wholly, breathlessly, Keith doesn’t. His collar slides from his slackened fingers and flops back over his neck, soaked through. His hair plasters to his forehead and it’s wet and cold and water drips directly into his eyes but suddenly he is warmed from the very centre of himself, ricocheting outwards.

“It’s breathtaking,” Keith finally admits, and he is, this son of the skies, this boy of the rain. He is the most breathtaking thing Keith has ever seen in his life.

He swallows, tilts his head up to the sky, and smiles.

———

based on this post

207 notes · View notes