The Best Klance Fanfictions

The Storm In My Head

This one implies smex (huehuehue)
don't say i didn't warn you, i'm not going to change any of the text!

this has a slight bit of Sheith, but not too much. It's much shorter than the last one, and not as weird. It's more of Keith-angst. But he's afraid of storms. (like fujioka huehuehue)
please enjoy and leave comments for your favorite stories and i might add them!
once again, text isn't mine, neither is photo above.
Photo - ikimaru
Find original story at - https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743279

The Storm in my Head

by lunarella

Doing the dishes is easily Keith's least favorite house chore. He hates the way his fingers prune up, how his arms will itch in places where soap and water dry and he especially hates when he accidentally makes contact with any stray piece of food that managed to dodge the garbage disposal.

Yet, here is, elbow deep as he rinsed and washed, grimace on his face. It's technically Lance's turn to do them, but he can be quite the escape artist when it comes to avoiding chores he doesn't like. This particular time he bribed Keith with food, telling him he'd cook up a soup Keith had tried once when visiting Lance's family for Thanksgiving. It was the only time Keith had eaten it and he's been craving it ever since.

Really, Keith can't complain as he scrubs dried food off a plate, looking over at his boyfriend who stands before the stove, engrossed in his task as he stirs the mixture in the pot. He occasionally pulls out his phone to text his mom questions to make sure he's making it right. It definitely smells right. Keith is suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he hasn't eaten anything other than a banana for breakfast.

"Is it almost done?" Keith asks, trying not to sound like a whiney little kid, but good meals are his weakness. Government issued food from the foster homes and orphanages he stayed in as a kid weren't exactly quality and Keith can't cook to save it life. So, whenever anyone actually makes something good, Keith can't help but get a little excited and although nobody's cooking will ever rival Hunk's, his boyfriend is a close second. Years of helping his mom cook meals for their family of six contributed to that, no doubt.

"Are you almost done?" comes Lance teasing response, playful grin in place. Keith rolls his eyes and uses all of his willpower to not flick water in Lance's direction-- for the soup's sake, of course.

"Yes. I am," Keith answers, picking up the last dish in the sink to scrub at it pointedly. Lance quirks a brow over at him before a sly grin takes to his lips.

"No you aren't," he says, swiping a few dishes from the counter before skipping over to where Keith is to slip some more dishes he'd used for mixing and cutting into the sink. Keith shoots him a glare.

"Ouch- if looks could kill," Lance teases, hissing in fake pain, clutching at his chest before he regains his stance before the stove.

"If only," Keith mutters. Before Keith can even think about being grumpy for too long, Lance is approaching him again, this time with a spoonful of broth, one hand carefully hovering under Keith's chin catch any excess.

"Tell me how it tastes?" Lance requests, pressing the spoon to Keith's lips. Keith complies and has to physically stop himself from sighing and rolling his eyes in bliss at how good the flavor is. It's delicious, but Keith doesn't tell him that.

"Your mom's is better," he says instead, smirking cruelly up at his boyfriend, who dramatically grasps the fabric over his chest.

"I made this with love! Just for you! How ungrateful!" Lance complains jokingly. Keith can't fully bite back a smile.