#dihwyffh

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Chapter Summary: Keith frets over his missteps in the human realm, Lance makes a pact with Rachel, and Keith receives a phone call from a panicked Shiro that leads to the boys sharing an intimate moment.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

You'll have to imagine the pretty rainbow effect because I have no idea how to do that. :(

Excerpt:

While Keith had joked about messing with Lance’s friends before, he’d never really meant it. He’d never intended on going through with it. But now? Oh, now , they fucking deserved to be haunted. Excluding someone as amazing as Lance? Making him cry? As far as Keith was concerned, it was a sin . Luckily, demons are naturals when it comes to getting even. Oh, Keith isn’t going to hurt anyone. No, nothing like that. That would be taking it much too far and it would make Lance upset. And he doesn’t want that. What he has in mind is much worse. He’s going to drive them crazy.

Lance flops back onto his pillow, content to take a nap while Keith looks through some music. But he doesn’t want to waste time, “hey.”

“Huh?” Keith grunts.

“Do that later. Talk to me,” Lance whines, pawing at him.

“Yes, your highness.” Keith scoffs, but he puts his phone away. Then he moves so that he’s laying on his side with one arm propped under his head. Lance copies him, so that their faces are only a few inches apart.

“Ooh, I like that. You should always call me that,” Lance says.

“I can think of some other things I could call you,” Keith smirks.

Or start at Chapter 1.

Excerpt:

“Damn it, Gunther! No! You’re not allowed to run outside by yourself!” she says, catching up to him once he jumps up onto Lance’s legs, nearly knocking him over.

“Hey dude! You’re a good boy, yeah, I know,” Lance says, rubbing the dog’s head. He scratches behind his ears and the bull terrier leans against his hand, tail thumping against the car.

“He’s so fast.” Pidge says, attaching a leash to his collar. “I barely had the door open, somehow he got away from me.”

“Maybe because you’re three feet tall and weigh eighty pounds?” Lance suggests. Pidge rolls her eyes.

“Shut up, loser,” she says, unable to make a comeback.

please consider buying me a coffee