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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months

Text

this is how it continued

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

Lance tries for weeks to make it end.

The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?

And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.

Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.

Lance needs to make it end.

———

He cannot make it end publicly.

It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.

Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.

———

Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”

“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.

“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”

Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.

“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”

She huffs, clearly still miffed.

Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.

A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.

And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.

“You look dreamy.”

Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.

“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”

Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.

“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”

Lance’s mouth goes dry.

I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.

But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.

———

It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)

By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.

“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.

“Good food,” seconds Hunk.

“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.

“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.

Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.

Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.

Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.

What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.

He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.

“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.

“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”

“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”

Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”

He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.

“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”

Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.

Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”

She doesn’t even moo at him.

Lance tries bribery.

“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”

Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.

“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”

“Well, I hope not.”

Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.

“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)

“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).

“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”

Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”

Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”

The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.

“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”

“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”

“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”

“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”

Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.

“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.

“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”

Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?

An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.

Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”

Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.

“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”

Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

———

They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.

“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.

“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.

Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”

“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”

He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.

Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.

Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.

“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”

Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”

Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.

“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”

There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.

“Ready?” Keith asks.

“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.

Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.

“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.

He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.

“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”

Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.

“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”

Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.

“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”

Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”

He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.

Keith makes him feel so warm.

He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.

He wants it so desperately.

He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.

“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.

Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.

———

They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.

Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.

(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)

“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”

“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.

In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.

“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.

“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”

They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.

He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”

Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”

“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.

Lance snorts. Yeah, right.

He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.

Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.

And he starts to cry.

Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.

Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.

Lance is a horrible, horrible person.

This is has to be how it ends.

“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.

“Lance?”

“My brush is — in the wrong place.”

Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”

“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”

He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.

This is how it ends.

“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.

“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”

Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?

“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“Something stupid.”

“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t — I’m not —”

The rest of his strength leaves him.

This is how it ends.

Why can’t he make it end.

Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.

“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.

For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.

A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.

This is how it ends.

He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.

“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”

“For leading you on.”

That certainly gives him pause.

“Leading me…on?”

“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”

“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”

Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.

“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”

He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.

A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.

“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”

Lance swallows.

“Yes.”

Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”

The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”

Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.

“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”

“You mentioned.”

“Two years I lost.”

Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”

“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”

Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.

“Our future?”

Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.

“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”

One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”

Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.

“No wonder your head was all wonky.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d already been with me. For two years.”

“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”

“…That’s a long time, Keith.”

“God, I hope so.”

Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”

“Like glue, darlin’.”

Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.

“Tell me about our future.”

“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”

Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”

His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.

But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.

“What about a little girl with your smile?”

“You got it.”

Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”

“Night, baby.”

This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.

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freckled-moss · 3 months

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Tragic yaoi moment

3 Commission Slots Open! Sticker Pre-Orders until February 2nd!

#keith x lance #keith kogane #klance #lance mcclain #voltron #langst #klangst #klance angst #moss draws

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chasinglifeandlove · 7 months

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currently trying to write a klance fic where lance actually dies when he’s hit with that energy beam and keith can feel it and goes back to voltron… haven’t written anything in a MINUTE so i’m struggling but i just live for the angst. i just need to get a rough draft done and then i’ll be good to go

#klance #klance angst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron #angst #writing #fanfic

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sadlixe · 1 year

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First post

(idk how this app works yet but I’ll figure it out at some point lmao)

#klance #klance angst #allurance #voltron #voltron fanart #vld lance #vld keith

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xvampartx · 3 months

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a bit of one sided klance angst cuz i hate myself.

#art #digital art #fanart #klance fanart #klance #voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanart #keith kogane #lance mcclain #angst #klance angst

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haryuusart · 4 months

Link

New chapter posted! ♥

If you’d like to, check out my klance fanfiction!

And if you want to help, I’d love if you could reblog this so more people can see it! Thank you :)

Here’s the summary:

At this point, Keith can’t take it anymore and starts cackling like crazy, his voice slightly raspy. Lance declares it the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He’s never seen Keith laugh so hard, and it always feels so good knowing he’s the cause, in a good or bad way.

“Can you ever shut up?” Keith manages to utter between snickers.

“I can, I just don’t want to! What are you going to-”

Keith huffs and grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks to stop him from talking.

“Lance, close your fucking mouth and kiss me!”

Keith is a pianist haunted by dark thoughts and an even darker past. He attends Altea's Music Academy, but has never performed in public before; that is until his brother Shiro, who's a piano teacher, decides to promote the school with concerts at the Paladin's, the trendiest pub in town. His colleagues and friends, Pidge and Hunk, are excited: he can finally meet their best friend, Lance!

Their first encounter is... not good.

No one expects Keith and Lance to fall in love at first sight. Not even them.

(They also dance Single Ladies together. You're welcome!)

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marzsbarsz · 7 months

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every star dies out eventually

another shot at klance

i feel like with the way i wrote this one, i have to explain it a bit

this is keith's inner monologue, with the "you" pronouns referring to lance

sorry if that's confusing i tried my best !

okay enjoy :-)

word count ; 906

warnings ; blood, death, "fuck" is said like 11 times, the gays never win !!

fuck.

how did it end this way?

how did i, my hoarse voice screaming to the stars, my scarred hands clutching the remains of what was once mine,

end up here?

my love, my sun, my stars, my soul,

more than a person, more than a teammate,

more than anything i could ever hope to describe,

here,

bleeding out in my arms,

in the ship full of my own people.

my own people, who caused this disgrace and tragedy of a moment.

i told myself,

“this is why you never should have fallen in love.

this is what fucking happens to people like you, keith kogane.”

and yet,

strangely i regret nothing.

“lance! are you okay?”

“we did it. we are a good team.”

you took my hand.

you were full of warmth. you were weak, you were all scratched up, your hair sticking out in different directions,

and yet,

you were the most beautiful, beautiful boy i had ever laid my eyes on.

that’s when i knew i fell for you.

–

your hand tugged at my sleeve.

“c’mon, keith, let’s go, let’s go!”

“i’m coming, lance, please shut the fuck up.”

jesus. please, please don’t ever shut up, lance. i love you too much. please.

–

your head resting on my chest, your ear pressed close to my heart, as i hear your soft snores and feel your warm breath as you sleep.

fuck, i need to feel that again. to feel your breath on my chest, to know that you’re still here. to know that you’re safe in my arms.

you’re the opposite of safe right now. you’re not fucking safe and there’s nothing i can do about it.

and i’m so sorry.

–

“you promise?”

your soft giggles echo through the empty training room, my arms wrapped around your waist, our foreheads pressed together.

“i promise, angel, always.”

even when i promised to protect you and stay with you, even in that moment…

i somehow knew i probably couldn’t keep that promise.

but i’d try. god, i’d try.

i’d fight for you until my knuckles bleed, until i could no longer stand on my own two feet, until my very last breath.

i never asked you to do the same for me.

–

“what the fuck do you mean you’re leaving? you’re just gonna- leave me f-for them…?”

your defeated voice broke out into heart wrenching sobs, unable to continue speaking. and honestly, i don’t think i could bear hearing anything more.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i have to. i’m so sorry.” that was all i could say as i took your trembling body in my arms.

your muffled cries an agonizing sound in my ears, your tears that soak my shirt feeling more like a stab in the chest.

knowing that i’m the cause for them just makes my head hang low with shame, my own tears finally escaping my eyes.

and the only words that i can utter are words of apology, pathetic phrases that just won’t reach you no matter how hard i try.

letting you go then felt like i was choking.

and letting you go now stripped all the oxygen from my lungs.

–

“LANCE!”

i couldn’t even hear myself scream. i could only feel my throat strain to call for you as i saw you jump in front of me.

it wasn’t until a few seconds later when i saw the blood.

“fuck, lance, no, no no no no, please…”

my hands grab at you: your back, your torso, anywhere i could reach.

you cough out blood, a bit splattering on my face and chest.

but that didn’t matter to me.

“k-keith…?”

your hands reach out to engulf me in a hug.

“fuck, angel, i’m so sorry. why did you do that? i could have taken it, i could have taken it, fuck, please, stay awake. stay awake for me angel. keep those eyes open beautiful, i got you. i got you.”

“keith, p-please, i d-don’t…”

“no, no, no, angel, i got you, just please, help is on the way, just stay awake for me. stay awake, okay? open those pretty eyes of yours, wanna see ‘em. can you do that for me, baby?”

“keith, i-i… keith, i…”

“no, no angel, save your breath. save your energy, baby, it’s alright. i got you.”

“t-tell my f-family i lo-love them, a-and…”

i wanted to scream out for you to stop saying that, to stop acting as if you’re dying, but deep down, i knew you were. i knew this was it.

every star dies out eventually.

“...a-and th-that… i ho-hope i m-made them pr-proud… a-and t-tell eve-everyone-e-else too, and k-keith…”

“yes, baby, i’m right here. what do you need, angel?”

it’s a miracle i didn’t stutter, with the amount of tears pouring down my cheeks and the uneven breaths escaping from my lips.

you pull me down by my collar, and our lips met for one final time.

“i love you. i l-love you so, so m-much, keith. i love you.

i’ll be waiting.”

your hand let go of my suit, and the life drained from your eyes.

and now here we are, my hands clutching onto your suit for dear life, screaming out to the moons and suns and stars and whatever the fuck else was up above.

our teammates stood behind us as i cried my heart out.

and i couldn’t even fucking care less.

every star dies out eventually.

#klance #keith voltron #keith x lance #lance x keith #vld fanfic #vld keith #vld lance #voltron legendary defender #vld #klance angst #voltron #lance mcclain #lance voltron #keith kogane #the gays never win!

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the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 2 years

Note

"The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem"

"No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self aware"

Could be Langst or Klance or both

I give you klangst

-----

Lance politely excused himself from the conversation he found himself in, borderline storming out of the ballroom. He mumbled curses under his breath as he headed to the observatory deck.

He always came here when he was upset or missing home more than usual, usually the former than the latter.

He plopped down on the steps, hugging his waist. Stupid mullet, stupid mister perfect. He could oversleep every single day and yell at everyone and still be the #1 best teammate. He looked up at the stars, begging for some peacefulness. I hate him.

Okay, hate is a strong word, Lance felt the opposite regarding his fellow team member. He had a ridiculously unrequited crush on him. He knew it wasn’t Keith��s fault he was prone to jealousy and didn’t know how to manage it. It wasn’t Keith's fault that he compared nearly every aspect of himself to him. It wasn’t Keith's fault he was just Lance.

Lance was always an insecure guy, being the youngest meant he had to fight for attention. His parents loved him and he knew he was loved but he never felt good enough; it was a weird feeling.

He just wanted to feel worthy for once. He wanted to be applauded for something he did, for a plan he created, for saving a species, for something.

Tonight just tipped him over the edge a bit. He and Keith had infiltrated a ship together, stopping a new Galran weapon from destroying an entire planet.

It was Lance's idea to go on the ship, it was Lance's idea to have the team distract the fighters from the sky as Keith and Lance made their way through. Keith had tagged along due to his Galra biology and he opened the doors for him. It was all Lance's idea.

So why did Keith get all the praise at the celebration?

The team clapped with everyone else and Lance gave a couple of weak claps before leaving. Lance didn't feel part of the team, he didn't feel valued as a team member, and he just wanted to leave.

He wanted to take Blue and just fly anywhere that wasn't the castle or the Galran empire. He knew he was being selfish. The team wasn't even aware of his issue so he couldn't really blame them.

He really hated his mind most of the time. He rationally knew he was valued and wanted but most of the time he couldn't convince himself that he was.

"Thought you'd be in here." Keith's voice rang in the darkness of the room and Lance rolled his eyes.

"What? Already tired of people chanting your name? Go, Keith! Our savior." He wrapped his arms around his knees, pressing his forehead against them.

He heard Keith sigh and take a couple of steps into the room. "If you didn't run away so fast you would have heard Allura correct them. Tell everyone you came up with the plan."

Lance scoffed, "sure whatever."

"I'm serious." He heard Keith sit down next to him, keeping distance between them.

"Wow one point for Lance, like twenty for Keith."

He heard Keith groan in frustration. "I'm sorry you hate me. But if I can make you hate me any less could you please tell me?" Keith said in a slight huff.

"I don't hate you."

"You don't like me."

"It's not," Lance lifted his head up slightly, not being able to face the other boy. "I'm just, angry with myself."

"Why do you take it out on me?" Keith's voice was laced with slight anger.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. Ever since we save Shiro on Earth you've been trying to start something with me."

"Maybe I don't like your mullet." Lance turned to face him, Keith staring back at him with fire in his eyes.

"It's not a mullet!"

"Yes, it is!" Lance stood up, staring down at the other boy. "If you took like a minute to look at yourself in a mirror you would see that it's a mullet."

Keith stood up, "why are you obsessed with my hair?"

"It's not just your hair."

Keith crossed his arms, "what else do you hate about me then?"

"Just-Just you're perfect at everything! You're Keith Kogane! Shiro borderline adopted brother. You've never been scolded or belittled or told to do better. I'm just a fucking boy from Cuba stuck in space with mister can-do-no-wrong constantly reminded that I'll never be up to your standards. Or anyone's standards. The only thing I have on you is I didn't flunk out from the Garrison. Even when you were still top of the class." Lance looked at the ground, "I only go fighter because you left."

"Lance-"

"And maybe I'm just upset because I want to have that." He looked back up at the other boy, who was staring back at him with a somber expression. "I want for once to be the center of praise or approval. Not begging for someone to just acknowledge what I'm capable of."

Lance shifted his gaze up, looking out into the stars. "I'm the youngest, and they say the youngest gets spoiled but by the time I was born all my siblings were in high school. They were going into college, getting scholarships, and I was just...left behind." He wrapped his arms around his waist, "my family loves me. I know they do, but I always felt left out."

"I always wanted to find my place somewhere, somewhere I felt important or needed. Then you," he brought his gaze back down towards the other boy, "had to come into space with us and once again," his voice became barely a whisper. "I'm in someone's shadow."

Neither spoke for what felt like forever, the silence looming over them like a fog.

"I didn't know you felt like that."

Lance rolled his eyes, plopping back down on the step with a huff.

Keith looked down at him, "I'm serious."

"Okay."

Keith returned to his spot next to Lance, the air tenser between them. "You're not just a boy from Cuba, I hope you know that."

"I'm not much here. Just the 7th wheel if you ask me."

Keith shook his head, "I'm sorry you feel like that but Lance, you're more than that. You're vital to the team."

Lance scoffed, "sure."

Keith released a small sigh, "I'm serious. Without you, we wouldn't be Voltron."

"Allura can fly blue."

"So what?!"

Lance turned his head at the boy's outburst, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to compose himself. "So I'm not needed."

"So that's it?! Someone else could fly your lion so you have no worth all of a sudden? You have worth, you are a part of this team you're-"

"I'm leaving the team." Lance surprised himself. He had always entertained the thought but he never spoke the words out loud.

Keith sucked in a quick breath, clearly not expecting those words to be said. "What?"

Lance took a shaky breath, keeping his eyes trained forward on nothing in particular. "I'm leaving the team. No matter what I do I'm not needed here."

"Jesus Lance, listen to what you're saying. If you didn't come up with your plan on that ship we would have been captured or killed. You did that, if you weren't here no one would have thought of that."

"You don't know that Keith."

"Well, you seem to act like you know what our lives would be like if you left." Keith's voice sounded a bit sharp in the quiet of the room and Lance couldn't blame him. If the roles were reversed he would be just as upset as Keith.

"I just want to belong."

Keith's face fell slightly and his body relaxed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry you feel like you don't. I wasn't aware you felt like that. I don't think any of us were."

Lance opened his mouth to respond but no words tumbled out. He suddenly realized how exposed he felt, how he basically spilled every insecurity he ever felt in his life to his crush. "I need to go."

He stood up, making a beeline towards the door, a gloved hand grabbing his arm and twisting him around. He was face to face with Keith, a bit closer than they usually stood. "You have a problem."

"Excuse me?"

Keith shook his head, "that came out wrong. I just...look I'm not good with words but you need help? Support I don't know."

Lance looked down at Keith's finger wrapped around his arm.

"The team will want to help you, I want to help you. Please just, don't leave before we get the chance." Keith looked down at his own hand, then back up at Lance's face. "Shiro used to say that the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem."

Lance met his eyes, quickly shifting his gaze to the scenery beside his head. "No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self-aware. Me leaving will at least be a step towards something." He tried to turn again but he couldn't shake his arm from Keith's grasp. "Let me go."

"I can't. Not until you listen to me."

Lance stopped fighting against his teammate, this might be the last time he was able to touch Keith in any capacity so he might as well savor it. "I'm listening then."

Keith gave him a slow nod. "You're part of this team. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to access the Blue lion. She was waiting for you, Lance. You fought Sendek, you've come up with plans on the fly, you make the team laugh, you just...without you we wouldn't be the team we are today."

Lance didn't say anything, just simply staring at the spot beside Keith.

"You're our sharpshooter, you've saved all of our asses more times than we can count. We can explain how you feel to the team. We can all advocate for you, get you the credit you deserve." Keith tightened his hold on his arm ever so slightly, "please I don't want to lose you."

Lance was leaning forward before he could stop himself, softly pressing his lips against Keith's. He tried to pull back, but Keith held him close, holding on to him like he was a life raft.

When they eventually separated Lance slid his arm out of Keith's grasp. "I'm sorry," and he quickly left the room, trying to decide if he should go lay down or go get an escape pod.

-----

Ambiguous ending? I just,,,love writing angst sorry not sorry.

I hope I did this idea justice <3

Thank you <333

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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what if after the battle with sendak and everything finally settled down keith and lance found the space to fall in love. what if they just took some time for themselves and learned how to love each other right. what if they fell and never stopped falling. what if they got married and bought a little house on the beach. what if they danced laughing in the rain every time. what if they slept wrapped in each other every night. what if every touch felt good. and then what if keith started getting restless, lance too, because they want peace but they have never been good at being idle. what if they tried to hold on to their peace for as long as they could. what if one day they sat on the kitchen table right next to each other and gripped on tightly and cried because keith couldn’t stay on the ground and lance couldn’t leave his family behind again. what if the split was painful and messy not because they weren’t on the same page but because now they weren’t even writing the same books anymore. what if they never stopped loving each other. what if they were farther apart than the human brain can even conceptualize and they felt every mile. what if they never moved on because they never stopped being a part of each other. what if they knew that they would never be able to love anyone the same way they loved and love each other and it didn’t matter. what if forever still meant forever but just not together. what if they barely called because signal in space is weird but every time they did lance looked just a little bit older than keith. what if on rare team reunions they sat pressed closely on the couch because they may not be each other’s anymore but they’ll never be anyone else’s either. what if the touch of their skin was like a balm to an endless burn. what if after an earthquake lance blinked the tears out of his eyes and asked keith would you come looking for me if the world ended. and what if keith swallowed the sharp pain in the back of his throat and choked out i would look every day until it killed me. what if they never said i love you again. what if they were made for each other and not to be together. what if they felt joy and happiness and love every day in their separate lives but neither of them ever slept the same again. what if no breath ever felt as deep. what if love was beautiful and tragic and the whole point and painful and healing and bitter. what then

#what if they were doomed from the beginning #the whole time and always #what if they could never be together #klance #vld #voltron #angst #lance angst #langst #keith angst #kangst #klangst #klance angst #established relationship #break up #post canon #listened to three sad songs in a row on shuffle and pulled over to cry and write this #divorced klance

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kukos-satellite · 2 months

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Which alternative universe should I do?

(Klance Addition)

* High School AU

* Spies & Secret Agents ‎AU

* University ‎AU (they would be dorm mates)

* Childhood Friends ‎AU

* Royalty ‎AU (K is the knight, L is the King)

* Time Travel (K is from the future)

I’m currently trying to pick out another Klance AU to write while I’m writing out my Marvel fic. I’m tempted to do the High School one, because it seems fun and the most like the canon in my head. Lance would be the popular kid and Keith would be the quiet outcast who stays out of the way.

Keith would be a little nicer than he is in the canon but for the most part, he’s just keeps to himself. Lance learned about Keith due to some of his friends (Hunk, Allura) telling him that Keith has been helping them out with their homework. I’ll mention that Coran is a superintendent for the school district, and Allura’s father in this!

Keith would be genderfluid in this fic if I decided to do it, since Lance wouldn’t be able to tell if Keith was a boy or a girl. All because of Keith’s hair and voice. Keith says that they are neither male or female so it conflicts Lance if Keith would be his boyfriend or girlfriend. Later on when they are dating, Keith says to Lance to call them his partner so he does. :3

#voltron legendary defender #voltron headcanons #klance headcanon #klance au #klance angst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #KS: incorrect voltron posts #KS: incorrect fanfiction posts

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chasinglifeandlove · 7 months

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finally finished the first chapter of a klance fic about keith coming back from the blades and finding out lance died… i live for the angst and it’s an issue. anyway, if anyone’s curious here’s the link!

#voltron #klance #klance angst #lance mcclain #keith kogane #vld shiro #vld #fanfiction #ao3

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theosbrainrot · 1 year

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pov: season 8 (kill me)

also first time drawing in digital it sucks but i really wanted to do this 😭