My Klance Bible💜

Dress me up in your love(Smut)

He could sense the somber aura seeping through the halls before he even reached Lance, the lights dimmed and all couches barren of pillows. Space floated idly by, unaware of the suffocating feeling it gave it's prisoners every time they gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows that were so conveniently around each corner.

Unsurprisingly, Lance had been the first driven to illness due to the never ending abyss that constantly surrounded them, barren of any life other than their own. Every now and then another wave of loneliness would hit him. Of course, Keith knew the drill by now.

He found his boyfriend curled up in his usual place of brooding, one of the many castle halls, gazing out of one of the colossal windows, heaped with pillows and blankets Lance had accumulated.

It was their favourite place in the castle- secluded enough they could talk for hours before another soul could find them, but not so much the loneliness threatened to creep in.

He approached Lance slowly, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey. Are you... okay?"

He knew the answer, of course, and Lance knew he knew. Still, it warmed Lance to know someone still cared about something as pitiful as his feelings in the abounding length of space.

He quickly turned in his seat, the blanket tucked under his neck coming loose to reveal his usual white and blue t-shirt, looking almost half-dressed without he brown jacket hugging his biceps. Dark rings circled his eyes, the overcast of his brown casting shadows onto his sullen cheekbones.

"Keith! Y-yeah, I'm just..."

Keith took a precarious step towards Lance.

"...homesick."

He took his place in the battle field of pillows, opposite Lance. It's then he noticed him clinging to a piece of paper in his hand, with all the strength he could muster. With a gentle hand he unfurled it, sighing softly upon opening the paper.

He remembered when Allura had first approached Lance with the photograph, having been able to fabricate Lance's fondest memory. He couldn't have been older than thirteen in the image, face freckled from days in the sun, such as the one depicted in the photo.

Crowded together on the beach, six youthful, smiling siblings trapped each other in headlocks and hugs. Lance was, expectantly, dead center, seemingly strangling a young girl not much younger than him, undeterred by Lance's arm around her neck and shooting a thumb up towards the camera.

"You're having one of those days, huh?" He mused quietly, handing Lance back the photo.

Lance sighed, mussing up his hair with a frustrated hand, "God, it's like no matter how much good we do... I want nothing more than to go home." He fell against the window, pressing his head against the cool glass, leaving a condensed mark behind. "Does that make me a horrible person?

Keith rolled his eyes, sliding into Lance’s lap, bracing his legs with his thighs. Warmth radiated from his boyfriend, seeping through Keith’s shirt and filling him with content. He cupped Lance’s face dutifully, fingers on his neck and thumbs stroking his chin, exploring the familiar contours of his face- strong, carved cheekbones, soft lips, and curious eyes- those eyes.

“You’re not a bad person.” He muttered, pressing their bodies tight together, leaving no room for coldness or anything else between them, “You miss earth. It’s okay, Lance, we all do. Heroes are allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

Lance sighed. He slipped his hands under his boyfriend’s shirt, kneading circles into Keith’s soft hips, who hummed appreciatively, “I know it’s not the same. I didn’t have much on earth to begin with, but there are things I miss. My shack, my bike, instant noodles…”