#klance fic

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron) Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Lance's Family (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Adam (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Matt Holt, Allura (Voltron), Romelle (Voltron) Additional Tags: WARNINGS FIRST, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Suicide Attempts, Discussions of Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Bullying, closet lance mcclain, mental health struggles, College Age AU, drop out keith, van life keith, Suburbia, Eventual Smut, Summer Fling, Happy Ending, repressed characters, will tag sex acts when i write them, they/them pidge, Adopted Keith (Voltron), Racism, mechanic keith, Artist Keith, student doctor lance, Secret Relationship Summary:

It had been three days since the rescue mission from Zarkon’s ship, and while the physical bruises had faded into yellowing smears on their skin, the weight of the event lingered. Keith had returned different—quieter, his eyes scanning the corridors as if expecting something to happen. Never meek though. If anything, he seemed more alert and serious. Lance, meanwhile, had spent the last seventy-two hours practically glued to Keith's side. The rest of the team wondered why the two of them were suddenly sharing every meal and training session. After all, Keith had asked for his space as soon as he popped out the healing pod. He continued to ask for space as they checked on him. They were watching him isolate himself to everyone except for lance.

There was a fragility to his posture that he only seemed to show when it was just the two of them, a stark contrast to the rigid, commanding presence he maintained during debriefings with Allura. He wondered why, out of everyone on the ship, why was Lance's specific brand of chaotic energy was the only thing that made him feel like he hadn't left a piece of himself in that cell?

"You're hovering again, Lance. I can practically hear your brain working from across the room. If you came to check if I'm still breathing, you can just ask."

Lance jumped slightly, nearly tripping over his own boots as he came to a halt beside Keith. He quickly smoothed out his jacket, flashing a cheeky grin that was a little too wide to be natural, his eyes darting to the faint bruising still clinging to Keith's jawline. He felt a sharp, stabbing pinch in his chest—a cocktail of relief and a protective instinct he couldn't quite name. He slid onto the ledge, his shoulder brushing against Keith's with a deliberate, grounding pressure.

"Who's hovering? I'm not hovering. I'm patrolling. There's a difference. Besides, someone's gotta make sure you don't wander back into a Galra ship because you were too busy staring at a pretty cloud."

"You've always had a way with words, Lance. I only look at pretty clouds from the safety of the castle.." Keith felt the warmth of Lance's shoulder against his own. He leaned into the contact, almost imperceptibly, his gaze returning to the swirling colors of the nebula outside. The silence between them shifted from something heavy to something softer, like a bridge they were both building in real-time. He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders dropping an inch as he finally let the tension bleed out of his muscles.