#autistic lance
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Lance never shuts the fuck up.
Keith can’t get enough of it.
It’s been like that for as long as Keith can remember. Lance was the motormouth in, like, 6 of his classes; always had his hand up with a question or answer, and comments in between. Keith had been annoyed with it, that first year.
But then he’d shared classes with Lance again.
And again.
And again.
By then, they’d had their fair share of group projects together. Keith came to know that for all he was a rambling mess, Lance was really fucking smart, and funny besides. He was also endlessly kind and supportive, at least when he wasn’t egging on their rivalry that he’d invented (and that Keith hadn’t known they’d had — not that he wasn’t an active participant, once he knew. Riling Lance up was the most fun he’d had in ages).
Keith doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started smiling whenever Lance looked at him, feeling proud whenever Lance got a question right in class. Doesn’t remember when the mild annoyance turned to genuine appreciation. He does remember looking down at his notes one day, in Algebra II, only to discover a blank page, and realising that he’d spent the whole class just watching Lance talk. (He also remembers feeling pleased instead of the disappointment he should have felt, because he figured he’d have an excuse to hear Lance talk more if he asked him to help Keith catch up. He knew he was in quite the mess, then.)
Keith knew he had a crush on Lance, after that. And Keith was never one to sit idly — he’d asked Lance on a date right then and there. Lance had, for the first time in Keith’s working memory, gone speechless. (And quite the pretty shade of red.)
The speechlessness didn’t last long, that’s for damn certain. Keith took Lance to the Applebee’s at the plaza near his house that very night, because Shiro worked there and would give him a discount. Also, Lance had once mentioned he liked the lemonade there.
Keith met Lance there because neither of them had their full license yet. He doesn’t remember what exact table they sat at, only that they must have been near a window, because Keith remembers swooning over the sunlight warming Lance’s beautiful brown eyes no less than six times. They’d ordered, Keith some sort of fried dish and Lance — Lance had ordered a four-cheese fettuccine with a garden salad and, of course, a lemonade. Keith remembers so specifically because Lance spent the next thirty minutes excitedly telling him every piece of history surrounding the dish, down to the prehistoric origins of wheat-made pasta and the disturbing account of the first pink lemonade. He’d looked sheepish after looking at his watch and realising how long he’d been talking, and Keith hadn’t known how to assure him that Lance could narrate every detail of paint drying in a wall and Keith would swallow up every word.
(Later that night, Shiro sent him a picture he took while the both of them were distracted — Lance, animatedly waving a fork in the air as he lectured, and Keith, chin in his hands, meal forgotten, looking at Lance with a face more besotted than he knew he was even capable of making.
Keith sent the photo to Lance, asking him if he’d like to go out again, confessing that he enjoyed every second of Lance’s rambling.
Lance said yes. Very quickly.)
The rest, to a degree, had been history. They’d dated for the rest of high school, staying together even as they attended university and trade school on either side of the country. It was easy, really. Lance made sure they always had something to talk about. (Lance loved university. He was enamoured with every second of it, every niche interest of his getting its fill. He switched his major fourteen separate times, chasing every one of his ambitions, and Keith loved every story he heard. He also liked becoming an expert by proxy, because that was inevitable — you could only hear about the important of spiders in the ecosystem so many dozen times before the information was reflective whenever someone brought up the subject.)
As soon as Keith got his mechanic’s certificate — and he passed his exam in the highest percentile, meaning he could practice anywhere in the country, much to his pleasure and Lance’s overwhelming pride — he took off to California, his one and only thought being that he had to get to Lance. (Not that it had been impulsive — this was planned, something they’d been waiting for. Did Keith run over as soon as he could? Yeah, kinda. So maybe it was a little impulsive. But mostly it was planned.)
Not to sound like a Disney princess, but Keith really felt like their life began once they moved in together. Keith was able to find a job at a pretty decent garage, bring in money for them immediately. Lance had his library job until he graduated, and of course then he was snatched up by the nearest ecological restoration effort — he got to spend his days crawling through the forest, fawning over every tiny bug and critter. He is so fucking cute. Keith loves him more than anything in the world.
Lance’s constant lectures never stopped, either — any interest he picked up, he told Keith about it. From his knitting club to the new beetle species he’d found at work, Keith got the pleasure of hearing about it. And it truly was a pleasure. Keith had his fair share of time being a motormouth, too — he’d bought a project bike as soon as they’d saved enough, and spent a fair chunk of free time building it back up. (Lance helped, or at least as much as he could. Mostly he sat in their garage, handing Keith tools, and talking about anything he could think of. If Keith could go back and tell his ten year old self what his future would look like… God. Sometimes he can’t even believe how lucky he got.)
Keith has it made. He comes home from work every day to Lance’s beaming smile and gentle teasing about the grease on his clothes. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted. He’s happy. So fucking happy.
Except that things have been a little different, recently. For the past few weeks, he’s been coming home to his usual smile and kiss, but the idle chattering or excited rambles — Keith feels as if they’ve become a rarity. Their home used to be filled with the sound of Lance’s voice, silent only when he’s reading or focused intently on something, eyes narrowed and tongue peeking out of his mouth.
Lance still looks happy. He still curls up with Keith on the couch after dinner, socked feet in Keith’s lap and three million blankets over his shoulders. He still sends Keith a myriad of heart emojis on his lunch break. Their sex life has not suffered.
But the lectures. The constant infodumps of whatever passing thing has grabbed Lance’s attention. They’re gone. And Keith’s devastated about it.
He misses Lance’s voice.
———
Shiro is not getting it.
“It doesn’t sound like a big deal,” he says, voice staticky because signal at the shop is ass. “I mean, maybe you two are just growing up and settling down. How long have you guys been together, now? Seven years? Eight?”
“Almost ten,” Keith says quietly.
Ten years of the same thing. This change is new. It’s strange, and Shiro isn’t getting it at all.
“Exactly! Ten years! You guys were so young when you started dating, kiddo. Hell, Lance was still wearing braces, wasn’t he? I’m not shocked that he’s mellowed out a little.” He chuckles to himself. “Hell, maybe he’s finally just learnt every bit of knowledge he finally can.”
Keith frowns. “I dunno, Shiro. Sometimes I feel like he wants to say something, but he’s holding himself back. Why would he ever hold himself back from me? I don’t — I don’t want him to hold back from me. I like it when he talks.”
“Tell him that, then. The only way you’re going to get answers is if you ask him, you dork.”
“Some brother you are,” Keith mutters, pouting. “You’re supposed to solve things for me.”
“Hm. Pretty sure you’re a grown-ass man who’s capable of solving his own problems, bud.”
“Ugh. You’re horrible. I’m changing the Netflix password to kick you off.”
Shiro laughs. “Sure! No more Costco membership for you. Password sharing goes both ways, you little snot. Now hang up and call your man. I have to leave for work soon.”
Despite his ongoing frustration, Keith can’t help a smile at the familiar banter. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your upcoming fourteen hour shift of hell.”
“Go fuck yourself! Love you!”
“Love you too. Bye.”
It shouldn’t really surprise him that Shiro’s no help. As much as he pesters his brother as often as possible and generally finds joy in making himself into a nuisance, they haven’t seen each other face-to-face since Christmas. They’ve lived in different states for years.
But, still. There’s some part of Keith that will always think of his big brother first when he has a problem. And that part of him had the right ideas, because Shiro is unfortunately right — he really does just need to talk to Lance. There’s not much else he can do.
He spends the rest of his shift wondering how he’s going to bring it up. He has his own motormouth moments, sure, but realistically? Keith doesn’t talk all the much. He’s more of an action person. How the hell is he supposed to breach the subject? ‘Hey, Lance. I’ve noticed that you are talking less. This change has consumed my every thought. I miss the sound of your voice. How come you don’t talk to me about your life anymore?’
Yeah, no. It sounds ridiculous even in his own head. He’ll have to — plan it out, maybe. He’s not sure. He’s never had to worry about making Lance talk more before.
He’s so distracted that he nearly burns off his eyeballs, forgetting to put on his welding mask before trying to make a part he couldn’t source for an older car. His boss sends him home early, worried he might accidentally leave a blowtorch by an air compressor or something and send the whole place up in smoke. Keith tries to take it as a blessing — maybe he’ll ride around on his bike for a while and clear his head. A way to bring it up might come to him naturally.
It doesn’t. He spends the whole ride just stressing himself out. He does drive by a flower stand, and turns around to pick up some poppies and peonies — Lance’s favourite. It won’t breach the subject, or anything, but it’ll make Lance smile. Hell, maybe he’ll start talking to Keith about all the different pollinators that made this bouquet possible. That would be a dream come true.
He hasn’t come up with any new ideas by the time he makes his way home, but he’s less stressed. He sets the flowers on the counter and takes a quick shower. Maybe he’ll start some dinner? Surprise Lance, for a change. Yeah. That won’t solve the problem, but it’ll be nice anyway.
He starts making four-cheese fettuccine and pink lemonade, because he is a sappy loser.
By the time he hears Lance’s key in the lock, he’s got the table set and the food is done. He keeps it heated on the stove, ducking into the bathroom to check his reflection as Lance steps into the apartment.
No grease smudges on his face. His hair is braided, the way that always makes Lance all blushy. He’s wearing the v-neck, too-tight black sweater that Lance likes, too. He’s got this. He doesn’t have a solid plan, or anything, but he thinks maybe if he turns up the romance then Lance will just spill whatever’s wrong. That works in the movies.
“Keith, baby? You home?”
“You have leaves in your hair,” Keith says, stepping out to meet Lance by the door. Lance smiles immediately, laughing to himself as he cards his fingers through his hair in an attempt to find them. Keith takes pity on him after a few seconds of fruitless searching, reaching forward and running gentle hands through the curly mess of his boyfriend’s hair, half to get out the leaves and half just to touch.
“Yeah — climbed a tree to check out a new weaver ant colony. Watched ‘em for hours — pretty boring, I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”
I want to hear about it, Keith thinks mournfully. Please, please tell me about it.
“I made pasta,” Keith says quietly, when it’s clear that no more details are forthcoming. “And, uh, got you some flowers.” He tugs Lance gently towards the kitchen, placing the flowers in his hands.
“Oh, Keith, they’re gorgeous! Man, I love peonies. They looks like pink cabbages, it’s the best. And poppies —”
Yes, Keith thinks. Tell me about how California poppies were traditionally used as stress-relief medicine, but not like opioid red poppies. Tell me —
“I should put these in a vase,” Lance says instead of any of that. Keith feels like he could cry, honestly. Lance leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, patting him on the chest. “You want to set the table while I do that? Or do you want to eat on the couch and watch a movie?”
“Table sounds good,” Keith says, because if they watch a movie then there’s no chance of Keith finding out what’s wrong.
“Okay! I’m going to get changed, too, I’ll meet you in ten.” Lance kisses him again and then rushes off. Keith waits until he’s disappeared into their bedroom to cover his face in his hands and scream silently.
Fuck! He just wants his Lance back. So badly. He wants to be woken up at strange hours of the night to hear about how trees communicate. He wants to get spam-texted as he’s trying to work, phone practically buzzing out of his pocket. He wants to hear about marketing strategies when they’re grocery shopping. He wants Lance to get distracted mid-sex by reading the back of the condom box, and then remarking with vague interest that they use the same dye in some cereals.
At the very least, he wants to know why Lance is acting so strange.
“So,” Lance says, once they’ve both settled down at the table and started to eat. “How come you’re home early?”
“Boss sent me home, I was distracted. I’m not mad, honestly. It’s been a while since I’ve done something special for you, which is a travesty.”
Lance smiles. “Dork. I appreciate it, though. Very sweet of you.” He shifts in his seat, tucking his legs up under him and leaning his head on his chin to look at Keith properly. “How come you were distracted?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Thinkin’ about this hot bod all day?”
Keith huffs a laugh. “Somethin’ like that.”
“Tell me! I’m curious now. I have to know or I’ll die.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Mhm. That’s not even the half of it, and you know it. If you don’t tell me right now I’ll just start listing the names of royals throughout European history and how freaky it is that most of them are directly related.”
Lance is teasing. His tone is light and playful; he’s obviously trying to goad Keith into playing along and groaning theatrically. A few weeks ago, Keith might have given in easily, and started ribbing him about why on Earth he has the names memorized in the first place.
But all Keith can think about is just how badly he would love to hear that.
“Promise?”
Keith’s voice comes out embarrassingly sincere. Soft and hopeful and dead-serious.
Lance’s hand stills, mid pasta-swirl.
“You…want me to? List names of inbred royals?”
Keith swallows. It’s as good of a segue as any, he supposes.
“Yeah.”
“…Why?”
“Because I — I miss your voice, I guess.”
“Keith, I talk all the time,” Lance says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He snorts to himself. “One might even say it’s my defining quality.”
“You haven’t been. Not recently. You used to talk all the time, but now — I dunno. The house is quiet. I miss you talking about random things. I miss hearing about your day and the million creatures you met and the people you saw on the bus home and the weirdly-shaped stone you tripped over on the sidewalk. I miss you bazillion lunch-break texts. I miss your running commentary when we watch a movie, even though you miss important dialogue and have to rewind to hear it again. I dunno. I just miss you.”
Keith keeps his eyes downcast on his plate as he speaks, and keeps it there after he finishes. He’s finished his food, already, but he can’t bring himself to look at Lance’s face.
“Keith?”
There’s a strange quality to Lance’s voice, a sort of — bewildered breathlessness. Keith risks a glance, finding his boyfriend staring at him with a dropped jaw and wide brown eyes.
“You really — you miss my motormouth?”
Keith shrugs. “I fell in love with your motormouth. Of course I miss it.”
That makes Lance’s cheeks heat, and he glances down at his plate like they’re teenagers again and Keith told him he was cute for the first time.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Keith’s not sure what else to say. He doesn’t know how to express that there’s nothing that Lance does that he dislikes, not truly. Sure, it’s annoying when Lance leaves a million half-full cups of water around the apartment, and Keith is regularly tripping over the shoes that he never puts away for some reason, but there’s nothing — every part of him is precious to Keith. Everything he does and everything he is, Keith knows he can’t live without.
“I know you love me,” Lance whispers. He looks pointedly away from Keith, pushing a couple wayward noodles around on his plate. “I’ve never — I’ve never needed to doubt that.”
Keith swallows. “Good.”
“I — yeah. You show me all the time. And, I mean, look at today! You brought me flowers home just because. You do things like that for me regularly; I never forget that you care about me. But —”
One word. Three measly letters. But it’s enough to feel like a stone is dropping on Keith’s chest.
“— sometimes I feel like I’m too much? Like, I’m kind of intense. I know that. And I can’t always tell when I’m being weird or annoying. And you’d never — you’d never string me along, I know that. If you stopped loving me you’d tell me.”
“I would never stop loving you.” Keith can’t say the words fast enough. He wants to print them out and — tattoo them on his forehead. Melt them into gold and press them into Lance’s hands. Smash them to dust and sprinkle them in the air. Whatever — whatever it takes to prove to Lance that they’re true.
Lance bites his lip. His eyes are wet. “I — I don’t want us to —”
Keith doesn’t wait for the tears to fall. He stands and hurries the two feet over to Lance’s chair, carefully pulling him up and wrapping tight arms around his waist. Lance falls into him willingly, resting his forehead on Keith’s shoulder and leaning into him.
“Three of my coworkers think I’m annoying,” he whispers, long after the food’s gone cold and the light from the window has begun to dim. After Keith’s arms have gone a little numb and a wet spot has grown where Lance’s face is pressed into his shirt. “I just thought — I thought we were friends, but I heard them talking about how exhausting I am to be around. I don’t want — I don’t want you to get tired of me, too.”
Keith closes his eyes as he exhales in a shudder, firmly reminding himself that unfortunately, being a two-faced asshole is not illegal, and Keith has no defense for hunting those shitheads down and murdering them a little.
“They are not worth the ground you walk on,” Keith whispers, pressing a firm kiss to Lance’s hair. “You have more value in your toenail clippings than they do in their entire bodies.”
Lance giggles wetly. “Gross.”
”I mean it,” Keith says, smiling. “I love you, Lance. All of you. I never get tired of listening to you talk. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
———
It takes a while. Those asshole coworkers did a number on Lance’s self-esteem, because they’re horrible, and they deserve every horrible thing that happens to them. Honestly, Keith kind of hopes their cars break down and they have to spend ridiculous amounts of money getting them fixed by idiots, because Keith has quietly blacklisted them to every good mechanic in town. (Not that Lance knows. Lance is too nice to ask for something like that. Keith, however, is a bitch, and has no problem doing shady things to appease his own sense of justice.)
Eventually, though, the apartment stops being so silent. It starts with a shark documentary that takes them three hours to watch because Lance keeps pausing it to point out specific behaviours to Keith. And then they get kicked out of a casino they go to for shits and giggles, because Lance can’t contain himself and points out how the house is strategically winning all the card games they’re calling ‘luck-based’. And then grocery store trips start taking too long again, and Lance gets distracted mid-shower comparing the ingredients of shampoo and conditioner, and then they start a small fire in the apartment because he was explaining how broccoli evolved from mustard seed and burnt a whole pan of stir-fry to a crisp.
One day, seemingly out of the blue, Shiro sends him a picture of him and Lance, fifteen years old, at the shitty town Applebee’s.
I was looking at old pictures, the text reads. And you were right. It is strange that Lance was so quiet. I can’t imagine how that would feel. I’m glad you two worked things out.
Keith looks over at Lance, who’s singing a the periodic table song to himself as he washes the dishes for Keith to dry, and smiles.
He’s glad they worked it out, too.
#this is a three month old draft i just finished even tho i promised i would stop writing things at ass o’clock in the morning#vld#voltron#keith#keith kogane#lance#lance mcclain#klance#established klance#autistic lance#autistic lance mcclain#soft keith#smitten keith#smart lance#observant keith#tall keith#brown eyed lance#brown-eyed lance#insecure lance#langst#klangst#hurt/comfort#my writing#fic#fluff and angst#broganes#shiro & keith#mechanic keith#longpost#the applebees universe
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*Keith and Lance placing their forheads on each other* bonk autism!
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I have so goddamn many screenshots from this game. They have so many ridiculous conversations. I got that autism infinity and immediately had to give it to Lance. I also forgot that purple was an option, so now Keith is a purple catboy as he should be.
#vld#keith kogane#lance mcclain#keith x lance#klance#autistic lance#voltron#voltron legendary defender
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Autistic Klance headcanons!
- Keith usually forgets to bring stim toys with him when he goes out, so he just fidgets with random stuff (his hands, Lance’s jacket, etc.) until Lance notices and hands him a stim toy to use instead
- Keith is a “I need to wear socks or else I will explode” autistic and Lance is a “If I have to put on socks I will explode” autistic
- They 100% have nights where they take turns infodumping abt their special interests
- Keith chews through things like his life depends on it! He chews on anything he can get his hands on (bottle caps, straws, a fucking spatula???)
- Lance bought him a heavy duty chew necklace shaped like a shark tooth and it was ripped to shreds within a week
- Sometimes they lay on each other bcuz deep pressure stim!!!
- Their stim playlists are DRASTICALLY different. Lance’s playlist consists of: Owl City, video game music, 2010s pop and indie! Keith’s is nu-metal and cafe music????
#HIIIII#vld posting#kin stuff#literally all of these are based on me and my lovely wife#bcuz we are literally klance hashtag real#i barely ever see any autistic lance content broken heart emoji#actually autistic#autistic headcanon#voltron#voltron in 2023#klance#keith kogane#lance is very audhd (just like me fr)#lance mcclain#special interest#vld#autistic keith#autistic lance
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Characters: Keith (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance (Voltron), Chelsea, Hatricia
Additional Tags: Mentions of cocaine, zoo animals, kind of diologue heavy, no actual drug use, Mentions of Violence, keith's favorite animal is a hippo, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Autistic Pidge | Katie Holt, Autistic Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD
Summary:
Lance works at the zoo that Keith and Pidge go to. They meet some kids and almost get into some trouble.
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this is lance voltron's favorite song
#autistic lance#voltron#the autistic lance tag will make sense when you listen to the song i prommy#talk tag
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Why everyone should watch Mashle. ooooo you wanna watch it so baddddd OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo
thanks Melon for showing me this masterpiece
And these are for my rarepair that apparently no one else ships
and to close off:
#mashle#mash burnedead#dot barrett#lance crown#lemon irvine#finn ames#rayne ames#i dont think this has spoilers but lmk#WATCH IT#anime recommendation#mashle: magic and muscles#autistic coded character#PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE#abyss razor#abyss razor x mash burneded#abash will get popular one day#I hope#one punch man#mentioned
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I was snickering and giggling into my hand the whole time I drew this
#Keith is so autistic#i love him#lance loves him too#klance#klance fluff#klance art#Keith kogane#Lance McClain#Keith x lance#Voltron#fanart#art#animatic#moss draws
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how do you think lance felt getting that call about arthur being in the hospital after the cave incident
because personally i think that's his Little Boy and seeing him in so much pain and confusion would be devastating to him actually
#tea draws#msa fanart#mystery skulls animated#mystery skulls#lewis pepper#arthur kingsmen#vivi yukino#lance kingsmen#cw blood#comic#msa comic#autistic artist#lewthur#vithur#lewvi#lewvithur
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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 “
#vld#keith kogane#voltron#voltron legendary defender#keith voltron#keith headcanon#character headcanons#hcs#broganes#autistic keith#pre kerberos#keith is a menace#lance mcclain#adam voltron#adashi#Hispanic Adam voltron#cuban lance#keith vaguely knows what’s going on#klance#texan keith#pining Lance
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When i was 13-14 i spent a whole year watching all 12 seasons of Bones over and over again (i think i managed four rewatches in total) spent my whole winter and summer holidays in bed watching this show day and night not talking to anyone thinking noone gets me the way bones gets me shes everything i want to be, i should probably become an anthropologist and NO ONE thought hey maybe we should take this kid to a doctor and get her diagnosed :/
#how much more obvious could i have been?!?! this is depressing#autism#undiagnosed autistic#autistic characters#actually autistic#bones fox#bones 2005#temperance brennan#seeley booth#angela montenegro#camille saroyan#lance sweets#sweets#brennan#booth#booth and bones#booth and brennan#squints#zack addy#jack hodgins#special interest#belphegor luna
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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
#part 2/3!!#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#pre klance#established klance#langst#team as family#but there is Tension#canon divergence#s7 fix it#soft keith#whipped keith#pining lance#autistic lance#brown eyes lance#not explicitly but know that it’s true#my writing#longpost
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More Autistic Klance
Keith: Food needs to be soft and borderline overcooked. Cannot touch hardwood floor with his bare feet. Goes nonverbal very frequently, really struggles with eye contact and small talk. Fidgets when he has to talk in front of others and his blade is his comfort object. Can adapt to new things quickly
Lance: Do not overcook his food. Socks are his enemies. Impulse rambles and needs to be gently stop when he falls into a spiral. Can pick up on social cues and doesn't have to struggle as much to make eye contact. Stims when things are quiet, needs a lot of stimulation. Always need a blanket. Struggles to adapt to new change / information
#if yall want ill do adashi#some of lances traits might blur with my adhd headcanons#sorry#autistic blogger#autistic keith#autistic lance#random headcanon#klance
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I feel like Keith and Lance are both ND but in different ways. Keith is the kind of guy who would really like physical contact and words of affirmation as love languages. He's pretty good at telling Lance how he feels about him later in the series. He'd probably appreciate the lack of ambiguity and take things at face value/put trust in I love yous.
Meanwhile Lance grew up in a big family so they might not have had as much money. Receiving gifts was a really big deal for him growing up. I can imagine Keith giving Lance a cool blue shell he found at an alien market and being all confused, thinking Lance doesn't like it when he goes still. Like he wants to take it back and is disappointed that Lance doesn't like it. But he does, he's just a bit overwhelmed by the gesture. Trying to show why he thought getting some silly shell was a good idea, Keith meekly tells him to look at this pretty part of it, turning it over in Lance's hands, pointing out an opalescent part that's all different kinds of blues. Says it reminds him of Lance's eyes.
Lance says something like "How would you know what colour my eyes are" because eye contact is not Keith's forte, but there's no bite behind it, and Keith doesn't get the joke anyway, just looks nervous. Keith just says they're pretty, as if he couldn't not have noticed. Lance puts it down on his side table gently. Keith says "You don't like it?" Lance gives him a super tender kiss. They kiss for a while holding each other, and Keith hugs him, sighing with contentment into lance's shoulder. Says "Holding you feels like home" then Lance dies on the spot
#klance#voltron legendary defender#keith kogane#lance mcclain#I'm normal about autistic!keith pay no attention to my URL#Idk I think theyd have some really cool overlap/interactions with their love languages. Imagine that Keith would be a bit shy#to initiate physical contact at first but then gets confident and does it in public which Lance finds really embarrassing but secretly#endearing. I have another scenario for that too............ mb i should poste it...#whereas keith just lets lance know how loved & valued he is. How he thinks of him all the time. I LOVE THEM#Keith would become a limpet tho. He would become ATTACHED to Lance. He has an emotion and the first thing he does is go to find Lance#like a safety blanket or to share the excitement#fight me/train w me/hold me/lemme hold you/i gotta tell you this joke shiro said (its not funny)/I didnt sleep well/can we nap/#/look at this cool shell I found (for you)
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Trent Crimm means so much to me, and the way that he was portrayed is so important to me. I'm not sure if it was intentional but I relate to him heavily as an autistic person. I really love Trent Crimm. And I just wanted to let out this little infodump about why he means so much to me.
I love Trent's dedication to his career. It's something that I really relate to, and him making his special interest (writing) his career is something I find really admirable.
I love his stimming (the tapping fingers in his pockets, the awkward way of standing, the fiddling with his glasses and rocking every so often), and I love his use of eye contact (or lack there of in some situations). I love that he isn't afraid to be himself.
I love that we see him struggle to manage with sudden loud noises, and I love that we see him struggle to communicate with people when emotions become too involved. I love that he's got a monotonal expression and is shown to be an observer.
I love that we meet Trent as a journalist that is perceived to be stoic and stone-faced, who then turns out to be justice driven and fair with his opinions. I love that he learns to be braver in his convictions about people because of Ted. I love how much he admires Ted's way of living, and I love that he stands up for ethics. I love his strong sense of justice and his ambition to do the right thing, even if it isn't the easy option.
I love that, despite having a job where conversing with other people is a necessity, Trent is shown to be awkward and a little uncomfortable when talking to people. I love that he is shown to struggle with socialising and struggles to pick up on social cues (like suggesting a bunch of footballers go to a museum in Amsterdam, y'know).
I love that we see Trent unmask in the Total Football episode, where he shows his excitement and stims and info-dumps. I love that Ted, and Beard, and Roy don't make him feel embarrassed for dropping the mask. Sure, Roy calls him a dork but Trent is a dork. And he's not shown to be ashamed of that. I love that.
But what I love most about all of this - and about Trent - is that he's never made to feel lesser because of any of this. He just is who he is. I love that he never shies away from who he is.
I just really love Trent Crimm. And I love that I can relate so heavily to him as an autistic person. And, for that, I'd like to thank James Lance; whether it was intentional or not, thank you.
#ted lasso#trent crimm#trent crimm the independent#james lance#actually autistic#autism headcanon#jason sudeikis#apple tv#afc richmond
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post where there's post-war klance
keith: i'm really excited to meet your family lance.
lance: as you should be! they're awesome and they'll love you.
meeting the family
lance: this is inez! she's my brother luis's daughter, so she's my niece. that's how nieces work.
keith: i know how nieces work lance. hi inez. i'm keith (offers handshake)
lance: ahem...
keith: oh right. i'm your uncle's boyfriend
inez: (gives him a patented Niece Once-over) (does not accept handshake) hm. have you ever killed anybody
keith: (is a literal war veteran) (hates lying) (unless it's funny) (this isn't funny) oh um. only bad guys?
inez: ... what (in the smallest voice you can imagine)
lance: he's kidding!! he's joking. oh keith you're such a jokester haha
keith: no? we both--
lance: (staring at him so so intensely) you. are. kidding.
inez: oh. well he isn't very funny.
lance: yeah... he's not
lance has pulled keith aside now
lance: keith when a kid asks you that you tell them no!
keith: but that's lying?
lance: then dodge the question!
keith: i don't understand what you're asking me
lance: (poking keith in the chest for each word) dodge. the. question.
keith: repeating it with more emphasis has never made anyone understand anything better in the history of time ever
lance: ok. keith. ask me if i've killed anyone.
keith: but i already know that?
lance: just ask me!
keith: ok ok fine. lance, have you killed anyone?
lance: have you?
keith: ...yes? you were there.
lance: no! answer like you're inez.
keith: but... i'm keith?
lance: (heaviest of sighs)
lance: ...
lance: marry me.
#klance#voltron#lance: god you cursed me to be morosexual... keith: stop talking like youre from the late 2010s. also. hey >:/#talk tag#thanks for reading my post everybody. allura doesnt appear in it but she's alive.#everyone in this post is autistic.#this is based on butchelves saying lance's nieces and nephews would just immediately have beef with keith. i thought that was funny.
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