Voltron/Klance fandom

mature | 5.5k | 1/1 | post-canon , pining , situationship

Lance leaned casually with one arm against the frame, the other loosely picking at the hem of his open button-up. Familiar. And not. The same unconscious habit he'd had since the Garrison. Sleeves rolled up over forearms built from nearly two years of farm work rather than the feathered muscles of a trigger finger. Keith let his eyes trail the drape of worn cotton over square shoulders. The shoulders he had traced with light fingertips in the threads of morning, the shoulders that had supported him upright as he bled out in an alien field. The shoulders he'd watched shake and heave over a toilet the first time Lance had shot someone point blank, the shoulders he'd held in a castleship bed while the roiling mess of the universe narrowed to the sliver of air between their mouths. "Your fly's down," Keith told him.

Or:

Lance mourns those nights, the same way he mourns almost everything good in his life. He wishes he could find his way back to a simple eye mask providing the right darkness to slip under, or maybe even the ability to sip a chamomile tea and feel his eyes tug shut against their will. That would be a dream—literally.

Reality is not that.

In the dark, invisible voices shriek, their wails a scratch against the pressurized cavern of his skull. They tangle up against his sternum and press as hard as they can, their volume creating a pounding pain behind his eyes.

You are unworthy, they remind him.

It’s ridiculous. He isn’t in active danger. Hes warm, in bed, and objectively comfortable. The lack of sleep goes beyond upsetting and into the territory of frustration, clenching his jaw as he thinks about sleep and how he cannot find it.

Thinking about not sleeping and worrying about not sleeping is almost as bad as staying awake. No, it’s worse. It’s concurrent.

God, he can’t decide. Exhaustion has a way of stripping rationale.

Am I unworthy? He allows himself to wonder, falling prey to the hidden agony that his own body created.

Selfishly, he wishes there was someone who he could share in these moments with. A pair of sturdy, solid hands that might wrap around his arms and press delicately into his stomach. A knee that might work its way behind his thigh. He craves that grounding, that physicality to take him out of his mind and into the reality.

Unfortunately, he is alone.

In these moments, it is easy to feel as though he will always be alone. He finds it harder to see through the lies the voices spin.

By Speechless_since_1998

Nightwing didn't take the taunt, "Batman is hurt, and we needed someone to fill in for him at the meeting."

Guy grimaced. That kind of grimace that anyone in the League had learned to associate with trouble to come. He was about to say bullshit.

Such a big bullshit that not even a concussion could have justified.

Hal had told him that to become a Green Lantern, you had to be intrepid. However, she had never told him that you also had to be an idiot without any spirit of self-preservation.

"Oh, little bat... I think Superman is already filling Batman..."

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by the time be comes to terms with his feelings for keith, keith ends up having to leave for another BOM mission that's supposed to last a while.

on one hand, lance could confess with hope in his heart that keith would feel the same. if he does, lance would wait. they're stuck in space and there's really no one else so what other choice does he have? but on the other hand, lance could confess and be turned down. either way, at least he's shooting his shot, right? or he could just never say anything, because sometimes it hurts less to hold onto regret than it does to open himself up to getting his heart broken.

before he can choose, whichever is the lesser of two evils, keith figures him out and he's kind of forced to just confess. it's nervewracking, he's shaking and sweating and his heart is threatening to jump out of his throat.

they talk for a bit, going back and forth about the implications of lance's feelings and how it would affect their dynamic as a team. but also, keith is leaving in a couple days and they really don't know how long he'll be gone. lance nods because he knows. he doesn't mention that he's willing to wait because he doesn't want to seem desperate, even though he really is. even though he's only just come to realize how deep his feelings for keith runs, he knows that he's felt this way for a long time.

keith looks him in the eye and tells him that he's not in the right place to be doing anything long distance. he has priorities, not that lance wouldn't be one if anything ever happened between them, it's just so new. if he had known how lance had felt before, maybe there could have been something, maybe there would have been something more solid to hold onto. but he's been with the blades for so long and he's put so much of his time and energy into that, that he can't really focus on blades work and a relationship at the same time.

so lance smiles through yet another heartbreak. he understands. it's not like he really expected anything anyway, especially since he was so close to not confessing to keith in the first place.

but his feelings for keith don’t just go away. if anything, they grow stronger, because that's what happens when you know you can't have something--you only crave it more. it's bad enough that his longing heart yearns for some kind of human connection, but the fact that each time he sees keith might be his last?

he tries not to think about it, though. he throws himself into training and fighting and building upon the voltron coalition, trying not to wallow in the heartache.