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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

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Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

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deckoftrickcards · 19 days

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they are at shiros wedding… lance is plotting something devious… keith wants him… badly…. IDFK FML

#voltron #keith kogane #klance #lance mcclain #vld #voltron legendary defender #klance fanart #vld fanart #keith fanart #lance fanart #ok no but i think keith spent so fucking long pining over this dude it’s insane #whatever u do don’t think about him smiling fondly at lance #he had to go home and chain smoke and get blackout drunk after this #give him a cigarette idgaf #mb

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hypfden · 1 month

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Let it be summer!!! NOW!! (Ft lance in his natural element)

I’m never gonna stop drawing the one sided* pining. It’s all I have plz and thank you

I’m not drawing sand imagine that they are in a beach

#voltron #lance mcclain #lance my beloved #keith kogane #klance #lance in the water #lance mcboy #pining #klance au #water boy lance #beach au

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heynhay · 10 months

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for if I am not yours, what am I?

#specifically forced myself to make something orange/yellow #klance #voltron #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #art #my art #5/6... only one more mitski album to cover #choosing one from Lush for klance was a bit hard bc that whole album is so. specifically feminine condition #but i think the inability to fulfill traditional relationship roles coming from Wife plays well into keith pining after a 'straight' guy #mitski

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salmonwentmissing · 4 months

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Here's a little klance idea:

Lance sets up a blog in the early times of Voltron with the help of Coran, and during his time he writes pretty personal stuff on it and posts it into the void. He's got like 33 followers, which isnt a lot but its nice to have his thoughts heard.

At some point during dinner, Allura talks about their reach w the coalition, and he lets it slip that he blogs and maybe that will help to boost the reach, and when Allura asks how many followers he has, he says just that. 33.

Hunk and the gang gets nosy and searches it up to read, and Allura stops dead in the tracks.

"Lance this isn't 33 followers." He's like "Yeah it is? Obviously it's 33, maybe 3 'cause why are there decimals to the number? They don't comment so it's pretty useless."

"No this isn't 33. It's 3 point 3."

"What, people?"

"Billions."

Everyone goes quiet, all staring at Lance until Hunk screams. "BILLIONS?!"

"Is THAT what that altean sign is?!" Lance gasps and points to the billion sign in altean.

Coran enters, learns about the blog and follower numbers, and just goes "Great job! You did better than I expected!"

Allura is astonished and crosschecking the reach between Lances stupid blog and the coalition's own numbers.

"You're double our numbers!" She gasps.

Hunk and Pidge are rummaging through his blog, looking for info and crumbs and embarrasments.

Keith is being silent and not looking into it, only eating his dinner while eyeing everyone else.

"You honestly thought you only had 33 followers?" He asks.

"Well duh! Nobody left comments and were silent, so ofc course I didn't think there were many."

"Well that's because I put your blog on locked comments, just in case you get space haters." Coran commented.

Aha, they all thought to themselves.

Lance only now remembered how personal some of his posts were, and immediately grabbed his phone to delete certain posts.

Ofc Hunk catches on, looks over his shoulder and yells out the names of the posts, one of them being "Mullet". Keith looks at him, finally.

"Really? You trashtalked me on your blog? That's low, even for you."

Lance is pretty flustered by this, but tries to spit back.

Turns out, Keith had been one of his first followers and already knew about all this. Was he good at being supportive in any way with words? No, absolutely not. Had he screenshotted the blogpost about him and kept a printed version of it under his bed?

Maybe.

#klance #kick #lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance idea #fanfic #i really like this idea and its very on brand for lance to seek validation and tell the drama but he cant do it w the team #there's unwritten pining in this piece so ya gotta dig theough the sentences but i think its clear enough what the post Mullet is about

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klaissance · 2 months

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ok um i have done it i've created a thing

pls enjoy

#klance #klance fic #my writing #OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL #i have in fact never published anything to ao3 before this is monumental #anyway um this is so fuckin dumb but it made me giggle to write #in which there is a lot of looking and a lot of pining #your honor they're in love #vld fic #um if anybody reads it please tell me what you think i hope it is fun and sparkly for you #@ jackie lance has brown eyes just for you bestie you converted me so hard

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0xy--m0r0n · 8 months

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ty @numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit for the wonderful stock image that i used as ref for this

i just. felt like it worked.

also i was super tired while drawing this so its not. super detailed. idk

#art #fanart #my artwork #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #digital fanart #keith kogane #klance #lance mcclain #vld pidge #pidge gunderson #katie holt #stock images #tw fighting #also i kinda tried a new thing wit the expressions #idk if it really works but its more expressive than the normal faces i do lol #i guess my regular style is better suited for soft pining fond expressions 😔

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nikogane · 4 months

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i could be your boyfailure loser nerd boyfriend Do you ever think that

#PLEASE #PLEASE PLEASE #PLEAAASE #I WANT A BOYFRIEND SO BAD IM LITERALLY GOING INSANE RIGHT NOW #I WANNA PINE #I WANNA YEARN #PLWASE PLESAE #IM GOING Crazy #tagging #klance #just in case

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gilyoungroach · 3 months

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ppl who get mad at brown dookie eyed Lance truthers because it's not "canon" ...my brother in queer pining, you ship KLANCE and you're getting mad at canonical inaccuracy???

#klance #DOOKIE POOPIE EYED LANCE SUPREMACY #pookie lance #lance mclain #my brothers in queer pining we can not being doing thid #queer

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shatterinseconds · 1 year

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tell me why keith looks like he's pining for lance in every interaction with him

#klance #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #2023 is the year of pining keith #there are so many that i got too lazy to look for them all

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damnlance · 5 months

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hello pls enjoy this random klance blurb idea that’s been rotting in my brain..

so keith is a truck driver and is usually on the road at aaaalllll hours of the day/night. he’s always tired and exhausted and sometimes doesn’t even get to go home because of where he’s delivering to, resulting in him resting in crappy hotels (paid for by his job), and only getting a few hours of sleep if he can. he’s a very careful truck driver even if he’s surrounded by other reckless, idiot drivers, and takes his job very seriously. although he misses home, he enjoys life on the road and has traveled to some cool places all over the country. and sometimes, he gets to take his giant wolf-dog kosmo with him for company. he brings back cool souvenirs for his friends/family when he does return to his small but cozy home in the desert and doesn’t have too many complaints.

until one morning, as he’s driving on a busy highway, he runs into ‘before work traffic.’ he’s stuck in front of some fancy blue car and the owner is driving like he’s under the influence or something. the owner keeps swerving to the left, sometimes getting honked at, and keith has to drive so slow, most of the time not at all, because the guy stops moving and it’s pretty hard to break when keith isn’t prepared for it AND can barely see the tail of this blue car in his big, tall truck. so keith stays on high alert, praying for anyone to get in between him and this possibly intoxicated weirdo who’s going to cause an accident! things begin looking up when the traffic starts moving smoothly and the a-hole in the blue car starts driving like he means it. and keith can finally begin his cruise to his destination that’s 2 hours away so he can get back home. all cars around him are driving like they should be and keith feels a little of his nerves start to dissipate.

but of course that quickly goes out the window because the fancy blue sports car suddenly slams on their brakes and keith is nowhere near prepared for it. he rear ends the blue car, not too hard but definitely not gentle, which causes him to slam on his own brakes to prevent anymore damage. he hits his forehead on the steering wheel in the process and nearly blacks out.

everything horribly wrong runs through keith’s veins and he proceeds to get over onto the shoulder lane of the highway, following the banged up sports car. keith takes a deep breath and when it’s safe to do so, opens his truck door and climbs out of it. he walks around to the front of his truck, too afraid to look at the damage to the sports car. his truck barely has a scratch.. but it does have the sports car’s goddamn license plate stuck to it..

before keith has the chance to form any kind of apology, a figure is slowly getting out of the sports car. keith’s eyes hesitantly float to the figure. and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. he’s got silky bronze skin and sapphire blue eyes that leave keith hypnotized. great. he feels even more guilty now. wiping his sweaty palms on his dark jeans, keith goes to approach the good looking guy but is immediately stopped by him.

“holy crow!” the guy shouts. keith winces, assuming the obvious. fancy car dented like a can of sardines, license plate damn near glued to keith’s truck like a hood ornament. goodbye job, hello lawsuit. but when keith opens his eyes, he realizes that this godlike guy is staring.. at him. he straightens his posture, and when he goes to speak, the guy speaks over him. “are you alright, man!?”

“m-me?” keith asks like an idiot because of course he’s talking to him. who the fuck else is around!? butterflies ravage around keith’s insides because this sexy piece of art is walking towards him and boldly gripping him by the shoulders, keith has no time to think because this guy’s elegant, angelic scent enraptured keith like a long overdue hug, leaving him infatuated.

“oh dude, you’re bleeding!” the gorgeous guy with the piercing sapphire eyes exclaims. keith can’t be bothered by it though, he’s too busy being shot by cupid’s arrow. this guy has the most perfect skin keith has ever seen, it shines so radiantly in the sun that keith swears he can see his own reflection. getting a good look at him, keith notices how faultless his face is. this guy has the most symmetrical face ever. his nose is long and pretty, and freckles dance along the bridge going from one springy cheek to the other. with a piercing through his septum, decorated with diamonds, keith nearly melts into a puddle. peach fuzz sits just underneath that freckled nose, resting on his plump, pink upper lip and if keith inhales, he can smell the faintest bit of cinnamon, most likely a balm of some sort. his lashes are long and satiny and the way he bats his eyes, keith swears he can feel a tiny breeze coming from them. his hair is a light brown, resting just above his chiseled jawline, extra curly and bouncy from the way the subtle breeze is blowing through it. and those eyes. keith could die in those eyes. he wishes he could wake up to those eyes. there isn’t the slightest bit of imperfections on his godlike face anywhere. no wrinkles or crows feet or old scars. no moles or beauty marks. just.. heaven.

“dude!” a pinch to the arm has keith snapping out of it, dragging him back to the harsh reality that he just rear ended this angel’s expensive ass sports car.

“h-huh?” he says because he doesn’t know how long he was under this guy’s spell and because what are words?

“i said you’re bleeding!” the guy reaches up to keith’s forehead, slightly moving keith’s long, shoulder length hair out of his face, and touching his hairline with two fingers. he pulls them down to keith’s view and low and behold. red. that just about snaps keith back to their current situation and he jumps back, away from the angel.

“jesus!” he yells, holding himself. “i-i’m sorry!”

“for bleeding?” the blue-eyed guy speaks, his voice raspy and deep. “yeah, dude, it’s cool.” he smirks in a devious, yet playful way. keith’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“uh,” keith swallows hard, “f-for hitting on you! i-i mean-!” he babbles, he stutters, he hiccups, “y-your car!! for hitting your car!”

the guy says nothing as keith yaps on and on about insurance and paying for the damages and even apologizing for getting his blood on the guy’s fingers. he can’t stop himself from the word vomit but somehow, mystery man doesn’t seem to care. he just smirks even more until it blends into a smile that keith can’t bother to look at.

his heart falls to his ass now.

“dude?” the guy says, shushing keith. it works. of course it does, keith would shut the fuck up a million times if this guy said to.

“hm..” keith swallows hard.

“i don’t care about the car.”

keith’s mouth falls open. “you don’t!?”

the guys smiles again, so unearthly that keith’s heart is now between his feet.

“no. i only care about the gash in your head.” he chuckles. fuck. “it’s pretty deep. i can go with you to the hospital..”

keith is at a loss for words! this gentleman sent from god just had his fancy, million dollar sports car crushed by keith’s 7,000 pound truck filled with useless mattresses (his delivery this week), and all he cares about is.. keith’s bleeding forehead!?

ain’t no fucking way.

“no!” keith yells and the guys kinda flinches. “i mean! y-your car!! i-! your car is-! i didn’t mean to..”

god, here he goes babbling again. like seriously? it gets the guy smiling AGAIN and keith can’t handle it. who the fuck put this man on the planet???

“sir?” he says. fucking sir. he reaches for keith’s tensed shoulders and keith melts. literally. “relax.” their eyes lock and keith swears he will never look at anything else again because there is nothing on earth that is more captivating.

“o.. kay..” keith nods, looking up at his angel. he’s about 2 inches taller than keith, but that’s alright with him. a light blush fills his nose and soon his cheeks when he realizes how close they are again.

“you seem really distraught by the whole thing. allow me to introduce myself. my name is lance.”

keith nods again, unable to speak because his angel has a name and it’s just as beautiful as him.

“and yours?” lance asks.

“k.. k-keith..” keith forces out.

lance smiles AGAIN for fucks sake, keith is going to be reduced to ashes if he keeps doing that.

“it’s nice to meet you, keith.” lance moves his hands from the top of keith’s shoulders down to his forearms, giving them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. keith would like to step out onto the ongoing traffic that’s still going on beside them because all of this is literally happening on the side of the fucking road!

“mhm.” keith squeaks. like actually. lance removes his hands and keith gets so cold. he moves over to keith’s truck to assess the (nonexistent) damages and almost laughs.

“you know, you really did me a favor,” he says, placing his slender hands on his taught waist. keith squeaks again.

“oh.. how so?” keith walks over slowly, looking from the sports car to his truck that barely has a dent in it.

“i’ve been wanting to get rid of this car since i got it three years ago.” lance says. “my fancy rich parents got it for me for my twenty-third birthday and i’ve always hated it.” he looks over and finds keith’s eyes.

keith goes beet red.

“i got into a fight with said parents about it a few days ago and kinda prayed that something bad would happen to it.” lance continues, crossing his arms over his chest. “guess that makes you like my angel or something?”

what. the fucking. hell.

keith goes all the way red, so red that the blood from his gash blends into his face almost perfectly. lance just smiles wide and cheekily like he knows what he’s doing and keith knows he does.

“kidding.” lance says with a laugh and a smirk. he walks away to his car and proceeds to open the drivers side door, grabbing a backpack and a rather large duffle bag from the small backseat. he grabs a few more things from the cupholder, the armrest, and reaches over to the passenger side for the glove compartment, shoving all those items into his duffle bag. he grabs the keys out of the ignition and closes the door, pressing the lock button twice. pulling his phone from his back pocket, he takes a picture of the damages to his car and nods his head. “alright, sent.”

“what??” keith’s eyes grow wide. “you just-!”

“i just sent a pic to my annoying parents. yeah, man.” lance is smiling and keith is falling hard. he reaches over to the front of keith’s truck and peels off his license plate, smiling at it. “this will make a great mantelpiece above my parent’s fireplace. what do you think?” he smiles at keith and raises one of his perfectly arched eyebrows.

keith can’t help but smile back. this man is devious. “i.. think it’s badass.”

lance’s eyes do this thing where they light up like a christmas tree and keith can’t fucking feel his jelly legs!

“that’s my boy.” lance fucking purrs and okay yeah keith is 100% sure he moans.

a lot happens in those next few minutes because words are exchanged and the next thing keith knows, his drop dead gorgeous angel is in the passenger seat of his giant truck and they’re driving to the nearest hospital for keith to get stitches. after a good look in the mirror and the adrenaline leaving his veins, keith realized that his gash was actually that. a deep one. it was bleeding down his face and crusting and he concluded that he needed to get it checked out. at least he could play the hurt card and get out of work for a day, maybe two. after he finished his delivery, he’s not that hurt.

as for lance? well.. let’s just say that he was pretty happy holding keith’s hand while he got stitches. and talking up the cute nurse at the front desk to lower the bill for keith’s stitches. and paying said bill for keith’s stitches. and finishing the delivery with keith. and even driving all the way home to some fancy gated community full of giant mansion-like houses with big swimming pools and porcelain fountains.

it’s about 2pm when they finish their little adventure as keith parks his truck just outside of the gated neighborhood. he reaches up to touch the gauze on his forehead and receives a slap to the hand.

“no!” lance yells, “don’t touch! you gotta let it heal properly.”

“right,” keith nods nervously, fidgeting with the dark leather gloves on his hands. lance seems to notice them and points.

“aren’t you hot in those?” he asks. “it’s like eighty degrees out.”

“nah,” keith shrugs, staring at his hands, “i pretty much lived in the desert, so im used to the heat.”

for some reason that makes lance smile. not too much but enough to make keith realize that he would do anything to make him smile over and over.

“yeah, being used to the heat must be nice and all,” lance shrugs, “considering how hot you are.”

an actual jolt of electricity runs up keith’s spine so hard that he has to subtly arch his back away from the leather seat because he’s pretty sure it’s getting hot in his truck and he doesn’t mean the temperature.

lance seems to notice because his smile doesn’t falter. it hasn’t faltered all day. not after the accident. not at the hospital. not at keith’s delivery site or the long drive back to lance’s home. he’s been smiling all day considering his precious car being totaled and his wealthy parents most likely being furious with him.

“i apologize for being so forward but,” lance sighs like he’s been dying to get this off his chest, “can i.. get your number?”

keith chokes on air. “m-my… number??”

lance nods. “yeah. like, your phone number.”

“.. why?” keith fucking blurts out like a goddamn idiot!!! his face seems to match the screaming voice in his head because lance continues to smile, chuckles even. he’s so beautiful.

“so i can text you for your insurance information, duh?” lance smirks. when keith takes his sarcasm seriously, lance rolls his eyes. “oh my god, so i can call you sometime!.. m-maybe..”

“me!?” keith can’t believe this. “you want to call me?”

lance nods, turning his body towards keith so he can face him. “yeah. is that.. cool?”

“yes!” keith nods rapidly, “i mean.. sure.”

“cool.” lance bites his lower lip as he reaches for his phone in his lap. they exchange phone numbers and lance goes as far as to take a picture of keith for his picture in his phone. when keith tries to hide stating that his long hair is messy and the bandage on his head looks dumb, lance reassures him that he looks cute and how he wanted to remember keith just like he is now. ‘sexy, yet adorable’ he said. keith literally can’t keep being tortured like this.

it was keith’s turn to take a picture of lance. his hair was a perfect kind of messy and his lips glossy with cinnamon lip balm, a scent that filled the air in keith’s truck. he smiled big, so big that his eyes kind of closed and turned into crescents. he was just so insanely gorgeous that keith didn’t know what to do with himself!!! he saved his name as guardian angel lance with a blue heart emoji to match those hypnotic eyes. his favorite eyes.

as their time came to an excruciatingly sad end, they said their goodbyes. lance opened keith’s hand and placed something inside before reaching over and planting a scorching hot kiss to keith’s cheek, thanking him for the eventful day. keith was a stone cold statue as lance happily made his way out of the truck and into his gated neighborhood, putting in some kind of PIN code before the rather large gates opened up to let him in. he turned to wave goodbye to keith before he disappeared down a hill.

when keith came to, he looked down in his hand to see the cinnamon lip balm sitting in the palm of his hand, waves of exhilaration and adoration swimming along the insides of his stomach. his heart did a small little pang and he had to clutch his chest at the unfamiliar feeling.

is this.. love?

to be continued..?

part 2

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

part one

———

Lance keeps his word — it doesn’t take long for him to really get the hang of his telepathy thing, and then he really is in Keith’s head more often than he isn’t.

That’s not entirely fair, Keith supposes. He has a pretty good hang of the telepathy thing too, and Lance showed him early on how to put up a pretty thick mental block if he needs some privacy, or even just a break. He knows how to keep his mindscape quiet and personal, if need be.

But the thing is…he rarely bothers.

He likes having Lance in his head, or vice versa. It’s crazy, and he never would have expected it of himself, but having the constant presence of his best friend in the back of his head; talking, humming, or just being, has turned into a massive comfort.

The desperate loneliness he grew up with, although slowly disappearing over the years he’s had Voltron, has faded into almost nothingness. He likes Lance’s noise in his head. It makes communication during battle a lot easier, too.

He’s yet to feel the rest of the team as strongly in his head — he certainly can’t hold conversations with anyone else — but he feels as if the connection that has been constantly present since they formed Voltron for the first time is stronger, maybe. As if he feels a little closer to all his friends.

That’s really mushy, Lance informs him in his mind. You’re a massive softie marshmallow. I can’t believe I ever thought you were cool.

Keith sits up, abandoning his fourth set of push-ups to find Lance across the training room, doing some sort of gymnastic routine (blatantly showing off for some of the younger members of the Atlas. He’s not even trying to pretend he isn’t, smirking whenever they point at him and whisper to each other in awe when he does a quadruple in-air backflip or something that serves no actual training purpose).

Keith frowns at him. I am so cool.

Are not. You’re a squishy softie marshmallow that cries during Finding Nemo.

Everyone cries during Nemo! Keith defends huffily. It’s a heart-wrenching movie!

Lance doesn’t say anything back, but Keith can feel the impression of his laughter. It’s a hard thing to conceptualise, because he’s not really laughing, and there’s no sound of laughter even in his mindscape, but Keith feels the teasing joy bleeding from him. The best way he’s come to describe it, after weeks of trying to put words to the feeling as he falls asleep, is the feeling he gets when a joke lands, combined with the kind of raw freedom that comes with running in a dead sprint for no reason other than the pleasure of running. Something concentrated and all-encompassing and heart-turning. That’s what Lance’s laughter feels like.

And Keith won’t stand for it. It’s one thing for Lance to tease him with his words, poking fun at him with his wide, sparkling grin, but to make fun of Keith for the thoughts he’s thinking in his own head?

He will not lie down at the dishonour.

Grinning in anticipation, he scoops up his luxite blade, lining up the shot and throwing with deadly accuracy. The blade spins through the air, so fast it whistles, directly at Lance’s head. If he doesn’t dodge, it will kill him.

But Lance will dodge. He knew Keith was going to throw the blade before he even made the decision to throw it.

Gasps ripple through the training room, several people shouting in alarm as the blade comes closer and closer to killing the Red Paladin of Voltron. Milliseconds before it hits, just as someone opens their mouth to scream a warning, Lance moves, faster than the eye can track, pulling out his bayard and transforming it in the same moment, batting Keith’s blade out of the air with his broadsword like it’s a baseball.

He grins, wide and manic and jumping to the challenge, to the spar.

“That all you got, Mullet?” he calls, swinging his blade like the cocky shithead he is. Keith can hear the impression of his laughter again; he’s dizzy with it, drunk off the heady feeling.

“Not even a little bit,” he says, activating his own bayard. Without needing to say a word, they both charge forward at the same time, arms drawn back and swords heavy with potential energy, meeting in the middle of the training room with a clash of their blades, so hard it sends vibrations up their arms.

The shouts of alarm from the rest of the crew turn into whoops of excitement, as people fan out into a circle to give them space. Keith is relatively certain he sees Pidge and Matt organizing bets out of the corner of his eye.

Ready for a show? Lance’s voice echoes in his head. Distantly, he hears Red’s howling roar, the proud lion wrapping her energy with her paladin, gleefully telling Keith how much she looks forward to seeing her cub wipe the floor with him.

She is a very competitive entity, Red. It sparks something in Black, too, who gets up from her perch in a rare display of headstrong pride and wraps her energy around Keith to match.

You’re going to lose, Keith taunts.

Fat chance, Mullet.

Their strikes are less choreographed, now that a real challenge has been issued, and more than their own pride is at stake. There is no real fight here — whether or not Keith wins, he doesn’t truly care.

(But he’d fuckin’ love having something to hold over Lance’s head for a bit. Better if he could be smug in Lance’s head, where he can’t stomp away with a sulk and a claim that Keith was cheating.)

Swordplay with Lance is difficult. It’s always difficult, because Lance uses a sword in every way except how a sword is meant to be used — Keith has seen him use it as a javelin, a bat, even a vault stick — but it’s only gotten harder since Lance has had access to his mind, because Lance hears and feels his every move, anticipating his every trick. Neither of them have managed to win the upper hand for long, and it won’t be long before the other resorts to dirty tactics.

Keith eyes his forgotten luxite blade. He might be the first, actually.

Forcing himself to think of a flurry of random things, practically throwing a wad of unconnected, unsorted thoughts in Lance’s presence in his head to distract him, he dives to the side, reaching for his blade. Lance realises a split second too late to stop him, and his broadsword comes millimetres away from the skin of Keith’s ribcage as he dodges. He closes his fingers around the softened leather of the blade’s handle, and whips around to face his opponent, bayard in his right hand and luxite blade in his left. By the time he’s ready again to fight, even though he’s only taken mere seconds to grab his weapon, Lance has already flipped several meters back, bayard in his hand transformed to his blaster.

Cheater, the both think at the same time, identical smirks on their faces.

Lance fires six quick shots, aiming at vital places in his body. His shots are all true — Lance doesn’t miss — and Keith barely manages to slide out of the way, one of the laser blasts grazing the side of his neck, burning him.

Lance hasn’t bothered to set his gun to stun. Keith can’t blame him. It’s more fun with the risk.

He rushes at Lance, both swords extended, aiming a slash at the Cuban’s arm with one blade and a stab through his torso with the other — he’ll only be able to dodge one. He’ll either have to yield or take a slice, get a painful hit that will slow him down.

Somehow, though, Lance contorts himself, bending his body in a way that it honestly should not be able to bend and narrowly avoiding both blades, hitting the floor with a heavy slam and aiming a sweeping kick for Keith’s knees to take him down with him. Keith jumps to avoid his powerful legs, somersaulting over his head.

“Oh, boo!” someone, who is most definitely Shiro, calls from the crew. Keith almost forgot they were watching, he’s so caught up in the fight. “Come on, Lance! Get his ass!”

If Keith had the time — that is if Lance let up his assault for even one second, which Keith knows he won’t — he’d roll his eyes. Since he doesn’t, he settles for making a mental note to raid Shiro’s room later and steal the last of the Reese’s he packed from Earth.

Oh, that’s diabolical, Lance thinks at him.

Keith grunts, swiping at the hand holding his blaster. If you help me I’ll give you half.

The offer startles a laugh out of Lance, distracting him for just long enough that Keith gains the split-second advantage, placing the blade of his bayard under Lance’s wrist and twisting until Lance is forced to drop his gun or lose his hand.

“Fuck!” several people yell at the same time. Next comes the unmistakable sound of money changing hands.

“Sucks to suck”, Keith taunts, because he can’t help himself.

But Lance looks undeterred. “It does, doesn’t it.” He aims a heavy kick right for Keith’s sternum, and since Keith is too close to move away and not flexible enough to dodge, it lands square where Lance aims it, the heel of his foot knocking the breath from Keith’s lungs and blurring his vision. He drops his swords when the sudden lack of oxygen makes his hands to weak to grip them.

Lance takes advantage of Keith’s momentary weakness, catapulting forward for an assault. Unfortunately for him, his intentions bleed loud and clear through their bond, and Keith hits the floor with a gasp so Lance can’t wrap his legs around Keith’s neck to choke him out.

Lance curses, falling forward with a flail when his assault doesn’t hit, momentum completely overshot. He barely manages to catch himself before his head smacks into Keith’s, and for half a second he stays there, hovering above where Keith lays flat and tense, ready for the next move.

You come here often? Lance teases, and it’s genuinely such a horrible line that Keith groans out loud. They tussle on the ground for several moments, each trying to gain the upper hand, but it’s literally impossible — neither of them is particularly stronger than the other, so there’s no advantage there, and not only are they completely matched, stroke for stroke, punch for punch, but every move they try is completely anticipated by the other. There’s no way that Keith can win. He can try to spend the next who knows how long exhausting Lance, but they’ve already been training for a while — they’re both tired as all hell. And as much as Keith kind of likes Lance’s hands on him, he can’t forget that there are people watching. He has a reputation.

Truce? he offers.

Yeah, Lance concedes, sighing melodramatically. I suppose I’ll let you call a draw.

Keith rolls his eyes as hard as he can — leave it to Lance to be such a goober about it, even though Keith can literally feel that he wants to call it as much as Keith does.

At the exact same time, they spring apart, setting some space in between them to catch their breaths. Once they’ve had a minute to recover, Lance stands, stepping over to Keith and offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up.

All the gathered crew groans out loud.

“Another draw?” one of the MFE pilots mutters.

“At least they’re wicked cool to watch,” her friend says.

Keith would be able to feel how much Lance preens at that even if they werent telekinetically bonded.

In minutes most of the crew has dispersed, no longer interested now that there isn’t a fight to watch. Some of them go back to whatever equipment they were training on earlier, but many of them file out of the training room entirely, moving onto other things. Keith and Lance make their way over to the rest of the team, collapsing down to the floor next to them.

“You guys are super duper lame,” Pidge informs them, offering them both a water pouch. Keith takes his gratefully, not bothering with the straw and tearing off the top, chugging them whole thing down in one go. Allura looks at him in mild disgust, which makes Keith grin, because if he’s being entirely, one hundred percent honest, he really only did that to get a rise out of her because he knows she hates it when he does that.

“You’re a liar,” Lance responds, sipping on his juice pouch much slower than Keith does. “We just provided you with what was essentially a full-stakes WWE fight, except Keith and I are both way cooler than any of those losers and there were weapons involved.”

“Weapons, but no drama,” Hunk argues. “You guys barely even spoke to each other. Just fight, fight, fight. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the nuance?”

“I didn’t hear you clown Keith even one time,” Shiro adds, because he’s safely out of range of Keith’s pinching fingers. “Two out of ten Keith and Lance fight. I’m disappointed.”

Keith snorts. “Oh, he clowned me plenty.”

The second the words exit his mouth, he feels Lance go rigid beside him, and a sense of panic comes through their bond.

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Lance tells him desperately.

Keith looks at him strangely, but Lance doesn’t provide any more context, looking at a particular spot on the floor as if it’s endlessly fascinating.

“He did?” Coran asks. He looks at Keith with a mix of intrigue and something he can’t place, something almost knowing. “I heard nothing of the sort.”

“Well, you wouldn’t hear it, per se,” Keith says slowly.

Lance screams unintelligibly in his head. Keith gets a distinctive picture of him in his own mindscape, yelling in anguish, as the Red Lion laughs herself to tears beside him.

What is your problem? Keith tries to ask, but mind-Lance ignores him in favour of his misery.

Pidge narrows her eyes at the two of them. “Clarify yourself immediately.”

“The mind bond?” Keith says, voice turning up at the end of the sentence like it’s a question. “You know, that Lance worked on with Red. So that we could communicate with each other using our existing emotional bonds with Voltron, just a couple steps farther. I know you guys haven’t used it much, but I just figured you weren’t into it.”

Silence.

Heavy, disbelieving silence. Each other member of the team looks at Keith with dropped jaws and wide eyes, like what Keith just said is something out of a science fiction novel rather than something they all should have been able to do for weeks, since that meeting with Iverson.

Keith suddenly gets the very distinct feeling that he has, perhaps, fucked up.

“Yeah, no shit,” Lance says, a little hysterically. His face is so red that he rivals his own lion. Keith can actually feel the heat pouring off of him, and the feeling from the bond is worse — Lance is dripping with mortification. “How am I in your fucking head and you still can’t follow my instructions?!”

“You didn’t tell me it was supposed to be a secret!” Keith defends, rapidly going red himself.

He can scarcely believe what is happening right now. Lance has told him that the point of the bond was to make the whole team get closer, but he’d only ever bothered to build something with Keith.

The whole time, from the very beginning, his goal was to share his deepest thoughts and feelings with Keith, no one else.

Oh, God.

“Oh, God,” Shiro repeats, but his tone is vastly different from the way Keith was thinking it. His expression can only be described as evilly and maniacally delighted, like every horrible hope of his has come true at once. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Oh my God,” Lance says, the third person to say it. His face is buried in his hands, body half-curled up, like if he compresses himself small enough he can disappear into nothing.

“So that’s why it’s like you two share one half a braincell!” Hunk exclaims. “You actually do!”

Pidge and Allura crack up at Hunk’s joke, or maybe it’s Lance they’re laughing at. Either way, Keith feels his head spin.

Lance has literally manipulated the quintessence of Voltron specifically and only so he can talk to Keith in his own brain, communicate the emotions he doesn’t have the words for.

Manipulated. The quintessence of the universe’s greatest and most mysterious weapon. To find more ways to talk to Keith.

Keith is generally kind of a dense person, but he’s sure as shit not that dense.

“Hey,” he says, shifting away from the rest of his team that has rapidly lost their minds and is laughing themselves hoarse, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Look at me.”

I am going to kill you dead, Lance threatens in his mind, too embarrassed to make his mouth work.

No, you’re not, Keith replies, and pulls Lance’s hands away from his face, yanking him close and finally pressing their lips together, no longer waiting for some obscure and future proof that Lance loves him. It’s obvious, with the way he softens, melts into Keith’s hands, and the way something warm and soft and floaty flows through their bond.

Lance changed reality for him.

His love could not be more clear.

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klanceficatalogue · 7 months

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Hey I'm so glad you're back! I was wondering if you had any good love bug stories or anything where they go to an alien planet and either Keith or Lance get their feelings exposed by accident?

oh yeah baby. another classic klance trope - k

love bug tag

Affections and Deceptions by Deatmat (2/2 | 21,353 | General)

"We need to talk about the bite." He mumbles, "What about it?" "Well, for starters, what do we do? What do we tell the others?" He gestures with his free hand at the bite. "I mean, we can't just magically make it go away." There's a pause before he says abruptly, "What if we pretend it's real?" - - - - - [Lance and Keith are dating behind the rest of their teams backs but a run in with an alien bug that's venom causes victims to mimic infatuation brings both opportunities and issues to light.]

Look At Me And Say "I Love You" by Dedmemes (5/5 | 17,253 | Not Rated)

*insert typical love bug AU summary* The team goes to a planet, Keith gets bitten and 'falls' in love with Lance, they spend the next three days glued to each other to stop Keith's heart from stopping.

Synthetic Love by EnlacingLines (4/4 | 25,210 | Teen and Up)

“Keith? Buddy, did it sting? Bite? You okay?” Lance says. “Bitten. Shit, that hurt, I don’t know where it we-” Keith looks up and just stops. That’s all Lance can describe it as. His mouth ceases forming words, his eyes lock onto Lance’s and his body freezes. A Klance love bug AU

#asks #anon #klance #voltron #vld #klance fic #voltron fic #love bug au #completed #20to30k #mutual pining

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klanced · 10 months

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this isn’t even about my evil agenda anymore I actually just need to hear your dissertation on voltron/klance x first love late spring

you do evil things to my dick and balls. i hope you know that.

first love / late spring is a very keith-core song, but i think it also applies to both keith and lance... but more specifically, FL/LS is keith pre-relationship, and then FL/LS is lance once they have already started dating.

i'm obsessed with that one interview of mitski where she explained that she wrote this song while she was experiencing her vulnerable first love... and first love is vulnerable. you simultaneously reap the rewards of being known but at the same time, you've now let someone else know you, and now you have to trust them to take care of you. and it's so vulnerable. it's more naked than being naked. and it's so difficult as well because now you're learning a brand new way you can be hurt.

so keith, pre-relationship... he's pining for lance and he is MISERABLE. he's lost control! he feels like he's being consumed by the enormity of his feelings. he's eight years old and small and never asked for this, he never wanted to know he could feel this way. he just wants lance to fucking go already. keith wants to spit vitriol and blame and shame and drive lance away so that when lance leaves him (and he will leave him, like everyone else has), then at least it will be on keith's own terms for once. and keith doesn't, he refuses, to say how he feels. he'll spitefully choke on his confession until it suffocates him. he doesn't want to know what lance might say.

but he also is afraid of lance's reaction because... if lance gives him even a sliver of ground, if there's even a promise of a chance -- keith will fold instantly. he will jump into this love headfirst. he'll do anything if it will make lance stay with him.

and then lance, mid-established relationship... things with keith are perfect, everything is going great, so why does lance feel so anxious all the time? why does he feel so scared when keith looks at him like he's his whole world? maybe the problem is lance. because what they have is real. because he's pretty sure keith is it for him. and that terrifies lance. because lance, deep down, knows he's going to screw this up. and it's not just his heart on the line; he's also going to hurt keith.

keith smiles at him and lance feels sick to his stomach. he wants to tell keith that they might be happy right now, but eventually, lance is going to ruin this. he wants to warn keith that lance is going to break his heart one day.

lance isn't always so negative about himself. during the day, it's easy to let himself be buoyed and enveloped by his feelings for keith. he loves being in love with keith. because the love is real. it's real, and it's there, and that matters. but at night, all those poisonous insecurities and anxieties rear their ugly head, and lance finds himself standing on a ledge over a drop. lance daydreams about spending the rest of his life with keith; lance has never felt so young and small.

#mintcaboodle #klance #voltron #ask #the old child/young adult metaphor is also like. so lance-core. AND THE 'I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME' LINE!!!!!!!!#im in my feels tonight i'm sorry the lance analysis is not fully cooked #also like obviously lance doesn't always feel this way. it's more pertinent closer to the beginning when he #starts to fully realize the depths of his feelings and he's freaking out because he's beginning to understand what it means to spend #the rest of your life with someone and that is a TERRIFYING thing to want and imagine when you're only 17/18 #lance does get better though and his insecurities die out the longer and more stable his relationship with keith is #though sometimes those same insecurities crop up now and again #i talk a lot about pining keith and how like tumultuous his experience is. but once he starts dating lance things even out for him #whereas lance is relatively chill in his pining and then begins to flounder after they get together and after he's realized the Love word #otp: we are a good team #katiecanons #idk i guess #keith #lance

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