52k | 5/? | post-canon, getting together | Keith/Lance
“I’m really… I’m happy,” Lance says, looking at Keith with soft, earnest eyes, “that you came around. This is going to be good.” And he says it with such quiet certainty, such easy, genuine confidence, that Keith, caught there, arrested by Lance’s gaze, believes him.
It takes a second; then, Lance turns and reaches out across the distance, his fingers landing in Keith’s.
“Am I allowed to sleep in your bunk?” he asks, so soft Keith almost thinks he’s imagined it.
“I don’t know,” Keith replies, just as softly, “you’ll have to ask my superior officer.”
Lance lifts his eyes, smiling a little, then returns his gaze to their hands. “Touché,” he murmurs.
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sneak preview of chapter 3 of no good unless it grows :-) needs an editing pass adn then i will probably post firday ro saturday (contents of perview subject to change but probaly won't)
“It kind of looks like Griffin might be interested, too.”
“Ew,” Lance says, “no, he’s just nice. We train together sometimes. Besides, I thought…” Lance squints at Keith, “I thought he was your ex.”
“You have seen us fistfight,” Keith says, giving Lance a slightly perplexed look.
“I guess I just thought you were going through some weird, intense twelve-year-old break up.” Then, “really? Not when we got back to Earth?”
“No.”
“He was kind of eye-fucking you across the tarmac when we first landed. I mean, granted, I was a little distracted, reuniting with my family and all, but I really… I thought… well, when I didn’t see you around later that night…” Keith wrinkles his nose; Lance eyes him a moment longer then looks away. “I kind of thought you and him were like a… like a weird, hate-each-other-in-public but go-at-it-raw-in-private sort of thing.”
“Ugh, Lance, quit it,” Keith says, resisting the urge to shove at Lance. “No.”
Under normal circumstances he would, but given Lance is currently using Keith as a crutch, it feels unnecessarily cruel.
Lance asks, “really? Not even once?” When Keith looks, Lance is looking at him with his face held carefully still, in the way that Keith knows means Lance is very carefully gauging Keith’s reaction.
It doesn’t matter, because Keith says, knee-jerk and with great immediacy, “no.”
“Okay, but you thought about it. Surely.”
“Jesus Christ.” Then, finally meeting Lance’s eyes again, “when would I even have had time to do that?”
“Hey, man, look, I don’t know what you got up to in your free time.” Lance shrugs, glancing away.
+ plus one of my fav moments from this chapter hehe:
He produces a keycard from his pocket, holding it up. Keith reads it, then grins at Lance. It’s Iverson’s ID.
“Where did you get that?”
“Iverson and I are basically BFFs now,” Lance swipes the card. Then, glancing back at Keith again, “he gets sleepy after lunch.”
excerpt from kl thing i wrote but might never finish.. just never know what direction to take the story in but there's like 20k beautiful words in there (more below the cut)
Keith’s hand creeps across the bar, touches Lance’s forearm, “Lance.”
Lance’s jaw works, but Keith is successful in getting his undivided attention; Lance meets Keith’s earnest, thoughtful eyes, the sweet request in them, the desire to reach right back to the start and undo all the knots all the way up to and through where the thread gets tangled. His finger on Lance’s arm, the dried out cuticle and the little scrape across the first two phalanges of Keith’s index finger. An unevenly rounded fingernail, unbelievably stupid fingerless gloves. Long lashes, sparkling, shimmering, unfairly glimmering eyes, those freaky-gorgeous nebulous violet irises so dark that Lance, at first, mistook them for abyssal brown. The arc of his scar, there on his cheek, the edges slightly wriggly and waved from here, this close. The little swipe of heavy flesh under the eyes, the incredibly faint lines beneath them, signifying a departure from youth.
And it was all Lance’s—might still be, if he plays his cards right, if he’s even sure that’s what he wants, but here, under this light, with the noise of life and people about them, the clinking of glasses and slightly scratchy jukebox speakers, there’s that dark, heavy scribble of regret, all in Lance’s gaze, in his feeling, in the way he holds his glass between both his hands, in the way that he looks at Keith like something bygone—out of reach.
Lance wants to ask, then, would you still have me, do you still want me around, wants to find out what would happen if he leaned in and let his eyelids flutter shut, what would happen if he took Keith’s hand or if he tucked some of Keith’s hair behind his ear. What would happen, if Lance reached out and pressed the pad of his thumb to the peak of Keith’s scar, like he’s done a million times over, like he used to do all the time. What would happen, if Lance made himself useful and pulled the plug out of the socket and let his eyes fill with unshed tears, if he let himself feel the breadth of the distance he let envelop them.
Keith’s gaze lowers, to somewhere about Lance’s arm—he’s staring, Lance has been staring—and then lifts again, expectant, but less hopefully, somehow.
And it just slips out, without Lance meaning for it to, a soft, “I don’t know what to say.”
concept being that they started dating During The War and then a little while after coming back to Earth keith went back to space and lance stayed and tehy never ACTUALLY broke up but they also haven't properly spoken in months. here theyve run unexpectedly into each other at a bar (veronica nad acxa wanted to Kiss and plotted by each dragging one of the two dummies along)
anyway wip/ad for my kl fics although this stuff was. truly top tier i wrote this with PASSION and LOVE
additioanlly, because i love this passage (cw: vomit mention!!):
And then there was Keith, in the thick of it, holding Lance’s hand while he wobbled drunkenly away on a table, one clammy palm to Lance’s forehead to hold his fringe out of his eyes while he puked, saving Lance’s ass about a million times, finding a way to make Lance feel loved—at home. Drawing out a slightly lopsided sphere and sketching in the more-or-less accurate shapes of Earth’s landmasses on a piece of waxy brown paper, taping it to the ceiling above Lance’s bed, reminding him that Earth was a dream close enough to touch. Finding some alien flower that resembled a daisy, pressing it while it was still full of life so that Lance could keep it forever. Holding Lance, when still, he cried for his home. Never minding, listening to a thousand stories about the planet that was only ever a brief stop on the incredible upwards arc of Keith’s destiny. Telling Lance is sleepy murmurs about his father, what little he could remember of his mother, the flashes of violet and a hairbrush with strands of hair in it too long to belong to anyone but the ghost of the mother he was still then yet to meet again.
And Lance, sobered up at the thought, at every flash of a shared history, of the soft, sweet shore they found in one another across the otherwise turbulent, chopping sea about them, the quiet peace they were able to make for themselves even when war raged violently on about them… Lance nods, perhaps a little solemnly, and follows Keith into the night, thanks him for holding the door open.
and for sillies:
And then Lance, bizarrely, sees the faint, fine line of a wrinkle on Keith’s forehead, and feels the weight of the last couple years acutely. He says, “you have a wrinkle.”
Keith’s lips part, he blinks twice, and says back, “so do you.”
“What?” Lance’s hand flies up to his forehead, “where?”
“Right there,” Keith says, touching Lance’s forehead. “But it’s really faint. Where’s mine?”
“Here,” Lance murmurs, struggling to breathe with Keith’s finger on his forehead.
The tip of Lance’s index finger touches the edge of Keith’s fine line.
“And you said three-in-one soap wouldn’t work.”
“Mine is definitely less visible than yours.” Lance says, instantly, drawing his finger away from Keith.
ugh wow. i love this wip so much i usually never feel this much affection for my work. i think it's just been so long since i wrote Lance POV and he's just. he's a muppet and so easy to write with humour. lance mcclain u will always be my fav character of all tiem...
And there’s the other thing—it’s Lance. It’s only Lance. It’s only ever been Lance.
Lance smiles a little, softly, sweetly, and then lifts his hand to Keith’s jaw, his fingertips light, smiling up at Keith through his dark lashes. “Are you okay enough for this?” he asks.
Keith considers the question. “How am I supposed to know?”
"When you can say, “yes,” with great confidence, and mean it," Lance says, smiling, his eyes crinkling warmly.
“I don’t get it,” Keith says, softly, glancing at the blue crescents on Lance’s cheeks, "I don’t get how you’re so fine. You always seemed so fine.”
Lance searches Keith’s eyes for a moment. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t see that part.”
- - - -
Following a devastating error in leadership, Keith finds himself suspended and Earth-bound, untethered as he attempts to outrun the weight of his grief--and suddenly rekindled desire, as a perfectly well-adjusted Lance re-enters his life.
Chapter 1 Summary:
“I know about what happened,” Lance says, turning his head to look at Keith. “Krolia told me all of it. You can say we’re not friends, or I shouldn’t be here, or that you don’t need someone around, or push me away just so you can pretend none of it happened. But it did happen, and I’m here. Because I want to be. And because I know what this feels like.”
“But you always seemed so fine.”
Lance lifts his head, searching Keith’s eyes for a moment. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t see that part. I know you. So try and push me away all you want; do whatever you want. But I know you.”
Keith meets Lance’s eyes again. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Well, it’s not supposed to be fair. At least not all the time. And besides,” Lance says, smiling a little, “I get to lord this over your head for the rest of our lives.”
28.6k | 3/? | post-canon, getting together | Keith/Lance
“I keep dreaming everyone around me is going to die,” Lance murmurs, into the quiet, “or kill me.”
Keith parts his lips, but nothing comes.
Lance takes in a breath, “and…” he pauses, sighing, “I keep dreaming I’m going to get the call that you didn’t make it through your latest mission.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Then, emboldened a little, perhaps by the dark, perhaps by the delusion of invincibility he never could quite shake, Keith says, “I’m always going to come back.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can.”
"Keith,” and there’s something soft and warning in Lance’s voice, a little desperate, a little pleading.
“I can,” Keith repeats.
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okkk no good unless it grows c5 is kind of sort of mostly in editing phase you know what that means (snippet time!)
“Does that… does it weird you out that I do that?” Lance lowers his hand from his forehead, placing it instead atop his chest.
He stays watching Keith, though, careful and attentive, like the faintest shift in Keith’s features will reveal some rejection or disgust or weirding out.
Shaking his head, Keith says, “no.”
Lance’s jaw seems to tighten up, just a little, then relax. “Does it scare you?”
“No,” Keith says, smiling in a way he hopes is reassuring, “I helped kill he-who-shall-not-be-named. You can’t scare me.”
Lance’s lips twitch up, “that was actually the other he-who-shall-not-be-named.”
“Who I then exposed.”
Lance smiles a little, but it only takes a moment before it fades away.
“Lance,” Keith begins, wanting to reach out across the space, “we all have…” Keith glances away, searching for the right word, “things. I have things, you have things. That’s just… that was just…”
“The cost,” Lance sighs a little.
Keith wavers a moment longer, and then, emboldened perhaps by the dark, perhaps by the forlorn way Lance says cost, like he’s thought about the word a million times, extends his arm out into the space between them.
It takes a second; then, Lance turns and reaches out across the distance, his fingers landing in Keith’s.
ok now a silly one
Romelle follows, but before she can get far, Lance asks, “since when are you involved in trade negotiations?”
“I’ll have you know,” Romelle turns, pointing hard at Lance, “I am an ambassador.”
Then, for good measure, she sticks her tongue out at Lance before scampering away after Coran.
“Grown ass woman!” Lance calls after her.
Romelle gives him the finger without turning around.
chapter 4 nguig sneak peek that i might have to axe...
Lance stares at Keith for a second, like duh. Then, narrowing his eyes a little, “what? You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“About Acxa?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
Lance cracks the barest hint of a smile, “she’s my soon-to-be-sister-in-law? Well, actually, no, you didn’t hear that, the ring’s not— you need to keep your lips sealed on this, Kogane, seriously, she’ll kill me.”
“They’re getting engaged?” Keith asks, trying to bite back his surprise.
“You didn’t know they—? It’s been, like, three years!”
“They’ve been dating for three years?”
“Keith, Acxa is a staple at the McClain home. You’ve seen them at meetings.”
Keith wracks his mind. Sure, he’s seen them talk, hug—sit next to each other. Hold hands, a couple of times, sure. And yes, Acxa has a photo of Veronica on her desk, and Veronica did, actually, that one time, ask if Acxa was single, but surely…
Keith shoves his hair back from his face, “I’m an idiot.”
“You thought they were being normal?”
“We do half the shit they do.” Keith says, by way of explanation.
40k | 4/? | post-canon, getting together | Keith/Lance
“You have an eyelash,” Keith says, spying one there, right atop Lance’s cheek.
Lance tilts his face toward Keith, so Keith reaches over, gently, collecting the little eyelash from Lance’s skin.
And something seems to change, just a little, there in the air between them. Lance seems to grow a little shy, looking up at Keith through his lashes, dark and feathery. Then, for a second—just a second—Lance glances at Keith’s lips, and when his gaze returns to Keith’s, it’s watchful, bouncing between both of Keith’s eyes, as if waiting for Keith’s next move.
Lance’s mouth twitches up a little, just at the corner. “You spin me out, Kogane.”
