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He was now freshly showered, wearing a nike t-shirt and sweats. Lance looked ready to scream, his jaw dropped open. But, why? It was our bunk bed! I thought-". Benji sighed and slipped into the room so he could flop onto the mattress. We're too tall for it. Lance looked personally offended. We played pirates on that, and I fell off the top bunk and sprained my ankle when I was seven!

You don't need a bunk bed.

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Cuddling and gay stuff, right? That made Keith's laughing stop short. As in, share a bed with Lance Sanchez? As in, sleeping next Lance? Keith felt his skin go pale and his palms get sweaty around the handle of his suitcase.

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Benji chuckled. You know you're excited, now you guys can have sex and no one will bother you. You can't just say stuff like that casually! You're, like, twelve. It was quiet between the two of them, now that Benji was gone from the room.

Lance stood with his ear against the closed door, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Keith rolled his eyes and moved to the bed, dragging his suitcase behind him.

You can chill. After a moment, Lance finally moved away from the door. Benji is a little shit. Keith wasn't sure what it was that had urged him to say that, but a part of him was glad he did. It was worth it just to see the content, serene look on Lance's face.

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Keith wasn't sure what it was, but he found himself asking a question that was, in a way, very un-Keith-like. Keith shrugged and stretched a bit more on the bed, his shirt riding up an inch to show pale skin. I mean, I'll be with them for two weeks. I wanna know what I'm getting into.

Lance took a seat on the bed next to Keith and began to untie his shoes. We don't see her anymore. I thought all your siblings loved you. I used to fight with Daniel all the time. He's just matured since he got married and had a kid. And Cleo? Hell, I was awful to her as a kid. When she was a newborn and I was six, I bit her foot and made her bleed because my mom wasn't paying attention to me.

Keith laughed. That definitely sounded a like a Lance thing to do. Lance's face paled, and he bit his lip. I don't know. Why are we even talking about this? A huff escaped Lance's lips. Bonding moment is over. Keith couldn't help but wonder if Lance was keeping stuff from him. Okay, scratch that, Keith knew for a fact that Lance was keeping away info. But did Lance really need to tell him anything at all? They were just pretending. This relationship was a fake one, and Keith only considered himself Lance's mutual friend, if that at all.

They could keep their secrets, they could do whatever the hell they wanted. Keith moved onto his side so he was facing the wall. Lance responded with a lazy grunt, signalling that he'd heard.

After a few moments of silence between the two, Keith felt his eyelids grow heavy. He closed them fully, and slowly his breath evened out into sleep. Something strange nudged itself against Keith's neck, a tongue tracing against his hairline. A sensation of warm breath put his hairs on end, and in his state of sleep, Keith moved into the touch. A low groan slipped from Keith's throat, and the tongue continued to slip against the goosebumps on his neck.

A small puddle of saliva stained the fabric beneath his open mouth, and in his dreaming state Keith continued to murmur incoherent words. The feeling of rough scales scraped Keith's neck, and suddenly his eyes shot open. If he hadn't been awake before, he was definitely awake now. And in bed with him? Curling next to his back, long reptilian tongue hanging from it's mouth, was a three foot long iguana.

Keith screeched so loud that the iguana launched itself from the bed, only to scurry across the hardwood floor and slip into the arms of little Mateo. Flung into a sitting position, Keith had sweat on his forehead and ragged breath whistling through his teeth. Since when had Keith been in a blanket? He didn't recognise the soft fabric or remember ever falling asleep with it. As Mateo squirmed to get beneath the comforter, Greedo escaped from the child's grasp. Keith shrieked and scrambled to the corner of the bed, attempting to get as far away from the iguana as possible.

He was cornered, and the iguana didn't seem to be moving anywhere, just flicking it's ugly reptile eyes. God, why did the Sanchez family have so many animals? Lance claimed they didn't live on a farm, but so far this felt like a bloody zoo. Chickens, a goat, a dog, and now an iguana? What was next? Mateo reached for the Iguana and pulled him into his lap. He treated the creature like a stuffed animal, but with more care and compassion.

He'd stroke the reptile's head and hold him close to his chest, as if the iguana was a small kitten. Except Greedo had scales, not fur, and was probably more than half the size of Mateo himself. Don't be sad, you are very unique. That's what my mami tells me! Mateo was such a puzzle. The boy was so kind and warmhearted. Yet, the way he spoke to the Iguana made Keith wonder if the five-year-old had heard those exact same words too, but from his own parents. Keith sighed and crawled off the bed.

Peering at the full length mirror hanging from the wall to his right, Keith noticed his hair was a wild mess of bedhead. He cursed under his breath, hoping Mateo hadn't heard, and began running his hands through his hair to fix it.

Keith didn't like looking in people's eyes, especially with a small five-year-old whose eyeballs practically bore holes in his skull. Mateo giggled. You like to say Uncle Lance's name. You say it lots. You go, 'Lanceee, Lancceee, Lanccee'. Alright, so maybe he had dreamt about Lance. But that was obviously just a random dream, it didn't really mean anything. He had dreams about guys all the time! It wasn't like he actually wanted to make out with Lance.

That was a stupid idea. Except, no matter the excuses Keith forced into his head, he still felt anxiety creep and crawl and muddle his insides. Keith had no idea what he was doing, or what the hell he was even saying. But he found himself doing it anyway. He was fully ignoring the iguana now, not caring when it crawled past him and out the door. Mateo was taking this very seriously, his little eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip slightly puckered.

I am good at secret keeping,". And then something strange happened; Keith smiled. It wasn't that Keith didn't smile, he did at least every now and then. But this grin, this one was different. This was caused by an odd feeling that felt foreign to Keith, a sense of protectiveness. Normally Keith despised kids. But Mateo? He suddenly had the urge to hold him and never let go. After chasing down Greedo and banishing him to his cage, both Mateo and Keith decided it was time Keith go back to the family.

Dirty Laundry. Title: Dirty Laundry. Author: Anonymous. Status: complete and floating on the interweb- 85, words. Summary: "Two whole months of free laundry in exchange for two weeks of being my fake . Uh oh spaghettios I made a thing These are some cute Klance stories, they're just super fluffy and dorky and I hope you like them!:3 Chapters include ice skating, hair braiding/makeup with squad, playing just dance, and my babies being total dorks ;P Also I wrote an epilogue for season 8! Enjoy! This is a Klance story (Keith-Lance) Kingdom AU. Will be ated every week (Hopefully) ;) I hope you enjoy it, it is purely for fun, please don't be cruel in the comments! Add to library 36 Discussion Browse more Science Fiction Short Stories. One Shots // Voltron. 4 days ago keitaiplus.comh.

Falling asleep not even an hour after arriving wasn't the best way to make a first impression, and Keith regretted ever letting his head touch the pillow in the first place. Keith realized later on that the Sanchez family didn't care about first impressions. At least not in the way Keith thought they would. They hung from a family key hook next to the fridge, a large yoda keychain dangling from the ring. Benji came sprinting past the kitchen with a guitar case in hand, Josie fumbling behind while still attempting to tie her shoelaces.

We've gotta go! Keith and I can eat a frozen pizza. The woman sighed, accepting defeat. She stood in Lance's arms for a moment, still and clutching her son's arms. Benji groaned, practically swinging his guitar case around in annoyance.

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I'm gonna be late! Lance chuckled and gave his mother another hug, her head just barely scraping the bottom of Lance's chin. Keith felt absurd; he was a stranger imposing on an exchange between mother and son.

It was so foreign to Keith- he couldn't remember a single time ever being held like that. Once Rosa had left with the children, Keith and Lance were left to their own devices.

The only other individuals in the house were Greedo, Danny who just happened to be passed out on the couch with a two year old girl asleep on his chest, and Terminator - the dog. Keith had never been a huge fan of dogs. If anything, Keith was a cat person. They were cuddly and soft, they rubbed their fur against your legs and purred. Dogs though, dogs were terrible. They slobbered, they smelled, and they jumped on you at the most inconvenient of times. Terminator was all of those things - and more.

Keith was amazed at how much Lance loved the creature, or even how Lance could tolerate kissing that slobber covered dog mouth. Keith leaned against the counter and took a bite out of an apple, watching as Lance popped a frozen pizza into the oven. Keith swallowed down another bite. We're two college students, 'supposedly' dating, and she just left us home alone. Keith gave Lance a blank stare.

Lance paled, the pink leaving his dark cheeks. He slowly shut the door to the oven, all while looking blankly at anywhere other than Keith. Lance cursed under his breath, all while viciously tossing the pizza box into the recycling. Keith chuckled into his hand, having finished his apple.

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He tossed the core into the garbage and turned to face Lance. What should we tell her? Lance groaned, running a hand through his hair and striding through the kitchen and into the basement.

It was Keith's turn to go pale, the bluntness of Lance's words making Keith stutter. Keith was fine with lying about having sex. This was a fake relationship, it required lying, so that was fine. What he wasn't fine about was that it was Lance. Lance made Keith angry. He pushed his buttons and plucked at his skin, he annoyed Keith to no end. It was a miracle they'd survived the trip a full day, let alone agree to it in the first place.

Except, despite Lance's flaws, annoyances, and the things he did that made Keith want to scream- Lance was a funny guy. The two actually got along when they weren't bickering, usually bonding over video games, movies, even the torment of their other friends. Sure they bickered a lot, but after that? They could laugh. The two of them may not have been best buds, but they were definitely friends, in a weird, twisted sort of way. Lance sat on the floor of the basement, a circle of DVDs placed around his crossed knees.

They were the Star Wars movies, each placed in order from best to worst. The two boys had originally planned on finding a simple move and popping it into the DVD player - not this deep conversation that they'd already had several times before. That doesn't mean you have to get all theatrical on me.

Keith groaned, rather dramatically and stretched his body across the red couch. It should be right there next to The Empire Strikes Back! Lance paused, almost dropping the DVD in hand. I will fight you on this. Again making another noise of frustration, Keith sat up straighter on the couch and flopped his legs to the floor.

Lance began to name things off with his fingers, a glint in his eye that Keith could only recognize as malice. Rey was super hot but, like, she didn't ever use that staff of hers? Like, what the fuck? And Poe was barely in the show and was obviously the best character-". Keith stood up and wrenched the DVD cupboard open, revealing colorful shelves lined with movies. He trailed his hand along the spines, stopping until he found one he deemed satisfactory.

I just want to enjoy a movie. As soon as the title screen came on, an excessive groan erupted from Lance's side of the couch. Are you kidding me? We're gonna enjoy this. As the movie began, Keith noted how tired Lance was. The boy had tried his hardest not to show it before, what with meeting his family again and introducing them to his famous boyfriend.

Now that it was silent, the two of them wrapped in blankets on the basement couch. It was serene; the lights had turned down low, and the two were finally able to relax. Lance's voice was barely intelligible, mixed with sleepy hums and the slow fall of his head. Lance didn't need to be told again.

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He was out, eyes tightly closed, mouth hanging open to release soft snores. It was cute - even if he was slobbering. Keith enjoyed the movie for a few more minutes before it happened: Lance's head falling against Keith's shoulder. He snuggled up against his right side, unconsciously burying his head into the crook of Keith's neck.

Keith blushed, feeling embarrassed despite being the only other person in the room. He couldn't move either - Lance had latched himself on and refused to let go. What was he supposed to do? Push Lance away?

That would wake him up, and no matter how badly Keith wanted his arm back, the innocent look Lance wore was enough to stop him. Maybe Keith could just close his eyes too. The idea was intriguing - he'd been up driving all of the night prior.

Keith finally gave in, letting his eyes drift close just as Lance's had. He didn't even bother to turn off the movie; all to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against the fuzz of Lance's hair.

It wasn't a pleasing sight - the boy was never a pretty sleeper. He always slept with his jaw hanging wide open, slobber dangling from a lip and snores pulsing in through his mouth and out through his nose. It was no doubt caused from his terrible sleeping position, and Keith already had Lance to blame. Lance snored against Keith's shoulder, preventing every attempt Keith might've made at escape. After Keith's fourth try he finally gave up, officially pushing Lance forcefully off his right side.

Lance gurgled a few incoherent words as his body flopped against the basement carpet, and Keith only snickered when Lance continued to snore.

The idea of the Sanchez family - a family of strangers - seeing Keith with bed head should've made Keith feel anxious. It normally would've, had it not been for the equally embarrassing bedhead that Cleo and Benji sported. Keith would've responded, though he strangely felt it not his place. This was Lance's brother, Lance's best friend, Lance's sibling. It would feel, well, strange for Keith to partake in the banter.

Just by the way. Feeling awkward, Keith absentmindedly ran fingers through his hair, feeling the stiffness the couch cushions had shaped it to become. It was different when Lance was there - Lance always masked Keith by being so enthusiastic. Keith could stand by the sidelines and smile, watching the family events go by without ever having to participate. However, without Lance? That's when he felt vulnerable. And there Keith was, standing in his wrinkled clothes from the day before, all by himself in the kitchen.

I know it's strange, meeting your boyfriend's family, but we don't bite. Benji stood up and cut Cleo off, placing a firm hand on Keith's shoulder. Cleo's right- we don't judge.

We're just glad you make Lance happy. He knew that Benji's words were meant to be kind. And it's true - they did calm Keith's anxieties, as well as his fears of disapproval. Still, Keith couldn't help but feel a swell of guilt. They were lying to this family, and the worst part was that Keith wanted to keep doing it. Once Benji was gone Cleo showed Keith around the kitchen.

She pointed out where he could get cups for water and the cereal cupboard; she even showed him the kid's drawer. This was a 'special' drawer, one only used by Josie and her younger cousins.

It held many things; plastic bowls covered in ninja turtles, plates designed with Disney princesses, even a large cup with Princess Leia on the front. Some looked old, the images on the plastic slowly grown to fade with every use. One plate in particular stood out to Keith, and he pointed at it immediately. Cleo noticed the plate and snorted. It was a white plate, though the original color had obviously faded to a thin yellow. The plate was covered in marker, all drawings done by a child.

But she's not, she hasn't sewn a dress or made greeting cards once in her life. Anyway, when we were kids she'd try to think up new crafts for us. One of them was drawing on a plate, which is sort of weird? Anyway, that one is Lance's. Raising an eyebrow, Keith grabbed the plate from the drawer to inspect it. The drawing was terrible, probably done when Lance was five or six. It was in all blue, the lines thin and shaky. After examining the plate, Keith came to realize that the drawing was of two people: A small boy and an older girl.

Their bodies were round and their arms simple lines, reminding Keith of potato people. In the corner of the plate was a small note, one written in handwriting that obviously belonged to Rosa. Keith swallowed, realizing how valuable the plate in his hands was. He set the plate back down softly. I hear you two are babysitting today? Keith considered his first 'official' day at the Sanchez house to be rather successful.

No issues ensued and no one suspected the fake relationship, thus only sedating Keith's worries. The two boys had lounged about at the beginning of the day, all before getting roped into an impromptu babysitting job. Keith had mostly taken care of Mateo, Lance more preoccupied with Josie and Mateo's little sister, Isabella. Mateo had obviously taken a liking to Keith, constantly pulling him by the fingers to show him objects of interest.

Mateo's admiration might've skyrocketed even higher when Keith let the small boy draw scribbles on his legs, turning Keith's pale skin a bright mesh of green, yellow, and red crayola marker. When Rosa and Mateo's parents returned with groceries, Lance and Keith were both relieved to be free of children.

Mateo ran off to ride his bike out front with Rachel, telling his mother in a rather excessive voice about all the fun things he'd done that day.

The hours dragged by, leading into the late afternoon. Rosa began dinner, recruiting her children for the task. Keith hadn't been given a job, and just watching them from the island made him feel useless. Sanchez stood behind a large cutting board, slicing pieces of chicken with a sharp knife. Benji was shucking corn at the kitchen table, and Lance was supposed to be unloading the dishwasher.

Keith found himself at Rosa's side, watching her cut the chicken intently. He cleared his throat. The moment he asked the question her lips turned into a smile. A happy wrinkle appeared at the crease of her eyes, and she nodded her head. Help is always welcome. Keith obediently nodded and moved to do as he'd been told. Lance, whose body draped over the island, had his phone in hand. Lance's eyes widened. Sorry sorry sorry Mom I-". She whacked him again for the second time he swore, and he squealed like a child, racing away from his mother's reach.

Keith heard Benji's snickers from the kitchen table. She sighed and turned to Keith, handing him the cutting knife.

Sanchez grabbed a large plastic bowl and headed towards the back door. He'll do anything to get out of chores! He couldn't finish what he was saying, instead watching the small woman shut the glass screen door behind her. He signed and turned to the chicken, knife in hand. After about a full minute of staring at the raw chicken, Keith realized that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Why did he think this was a good idea? He'd never really cooked before. Well, some of his foster parents had taught him a few things, like how to use measuring cups and the difference between tablespoons and teaspoons. But everything else? Keith had no idea. Benji must've noticed that he was at a loss, because he stopped peeling the corn husk.

Your boyfriend can't cook! Somehow, Lance had managed to appear in the kitchen within record time.

sorry, that

Lance giggled. You, the boy with the straight A's can't cook. I'm never letting this go, I'm gonna rub it in all the way until you-". Lance chuckled and moved Keith's hand away from his face, instead leading it towards the sink. We don't want Keith cooties in our dinner. Sighing, Keith did as he was told. He moved his hands under the running water of the sink, rubbing soap suds across his skin. Trying his hardest not to make a sly remark, Keith grabbed the knife and moved in front of the cutting board, cautiously cutting the raw meat in thin, uneven strips.

Lance shook his head. Moving their right hands in alignment, Lance slowly moved Keith's hand to cut the chicken. It was a strange and rather awkward experience, especially with Lance's breath tickling the hairs at Keith's neck. Keith felt himself blush, every brush of skin on skin sending electricity down his spine. Keith scowled and turned in Lance's arms, the awkwardness momentarily forgotten.

I cut my chicken like chicken strips! That has chicken in the name! Keith and Lance turned to look at Benji at the same time, both of them now reminded that they had an audience. A blush crept across Keith's cheeks, and he suddenly remembered the arms around his hips. Lance swallowed. It's just how healthy relationships go.

Yeah, okay, fighting. Lots of fighting. Intense fighting, fighting with our mouths, fighting over clothes, fighting in bed, fighting in the shower-". It's 'cause we love each other. It relieves sexual tension. Benji stood up from the kitchen table with corn husks overflowing in his arms. You make dinner instead. I don't want you cutting yourself with the knife. Somehow, Lance had magically found a way to maneuver out of unloading the dishes, making dinner, and having to deal with his little brother.

Sanchez was right, he truly was a master escapee. The two of them had escaped the kitchen just moments before, now walking towards the chicken coop in the yellow field behind the house. Tall, uncut field tickled at Keith's thigh through his sweatpants, the straw colored grass all the way past his knee. Lance stepped over a fallen branch, his attention purposely pointed at the desert mountains standing high in the far distance.

You should know, you were there.

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It was weird. Fake dating is gonna include fake flirting. As they reached the chicken coup, a nasty scent wafted in through Keith's nose. Looking through a wall of barbed wire, Keith counted nine chickens, all squawking loudly when Lance moved to unhook the gate's hinge. Lance climbed into the shed slowly, maneuvering so that none of the birds could escape the barbed wire.

A laugh exploded from Keith's chest. What fucking idiot named their pet chicken 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle'? Keith leaned on his hip from the other side of the barbed wire, tapping his chin. He leaned down to pet some of the other chickens. Keith deadpanned. These feathery pieces of meat are not my children. Lance gd, throwing his head back with dramatic flare. Keith rubbed at his temples, groaning deep at his throat.

You're lying in the chicken shit. Chickens all squawked and chirped around him, some even crawling over his legs and arms. They need me Keith, they're motherless! Keith decided that Lance was way too comfortable lying among ugly ass birds. And, surprisingly enough, the chickens were comfortable with him too. Was Lance a bird whisperer? How did Lance even have friends? Keith scowled. I'm getting laundry out of this. Lance whined something that Keith couldn't understand, mostly because one of the chickens had crawled over his face.

Just as he was about to turn on his heel and head back to the house, Keith decided to do one last thing.

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Keith snapped the fastest photograph he'd ever taken, capturing a slightly blurry image of Lance lounging in a bed of straw, surrounded by bug-eyed chickens. Then Keith was running, phone gripped tightly in hand as his legs pounded across the field.

He could hear Lance screeching behind him, but his cries were muffled by the chicken's loud noises. Keith only looked back for a moment, and a toothy smile spread across his face when he saw Lance struggling to leave the coop.

Chickens screamed at Lance, telling him he wasn't allowed to leave.

Steve is in love with Tony. Has been, for years. And the thing is, he's pretty damn sure Tony doesn't reciprocate that interest because they've been on dozens of fake dates and he's never once breathed a word about it. They just fake propose to each other to get free food. That's all there is to it. Nothing more. Fake/Pretend Dating. Fake/Pretend Relationship. Homesick at Space Camp ( words) by K0bot Chapters: 13/15 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence. KLANCE FIC RECS. Since i spend every night curled up in a ball at 3 a.m. reading klance fics i thought i would let you guys know some of my favorites! in no particular order i give you my top klance ao3 - keitaiplus.coms (that i have come across so far) I HAVE A TON MORE RECS SO LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO!!

He was trapped, chickens blocking his way to the door and some of them racing around his feet. First of all, Keith didn't even know they sold tables that fit more than six people. There were so many chairs, and even more were added in between the spaces for extra seating. Everyone was squished together, and food was constantly rotating around the table from person to person. They said grace before dinner, which was something Keith actually did understand.

He'd had religious foster parents, and this wasn't much different. He did let his eyes open once, and he'd peeked across the table at Mateo who waved at him. There were always three conversations going on at the same time, but it was normal to be participating in at least two. There were more than two pitchers of lemonade on the table, and Josie had spilled her cup only five minutes in.

There was a lot of laughing, a lot of noise, and a lot of something that Keith just didn't get. During dinner Keith met Lance's father, Jaime Sanchez. Sanchez was tall and wiry, his old hands rough and calloused. His hair was graying, but not necessarily balding, and he wore circular glasses on the rim of his nose. He was nice, Keith would admit. But he was also terrifying, just from the way Jaime looked at Keith. It wasn't disgust or anger that he wore, just frustration.

Like a part of him wanted to be grateful that Keith was there, yet another wanted to politely ask him to get out. Keith also met Daniel's wife, Rachel, who fed cooked carrots to Isabella. The two-year-old sat in a sesame street high chair, an old piece of furniture with the plastic's edges frayed and the cushioned seat ripped. Faded lines of blue and green color marked the tray, like at one time a young Lance had colored all over it in crayola. Isabella liked staring at Keith.

At first Keith thought he just looked scary, but later Lance assured him that his niece, Isabella, just liked to observe new people.

She was cute, if you considered orange carrot on a baby's face to be cute. She had a lot of hair, even for a two year old. The question wasn't meant to be awkward. It wasn't even a bad question, Cleo genuinely wanted to know.

Yet it was obvious from the way Mr. Sanchez's neck stiffened that the question wasn't welcome. Keith didn't understand why Mr. Sanchez was against this, against Lance and him. Okay, so yes, the relationship was fake. But the Sanchez family didn't need to know that, and something inside Keith made him genuinely angry. They may not have been truly datingbut that didn't mean Keith couldn't feel a sense of protection for Lance. Lance was his friend, or at least some variation. The strange thing was that Mrs.

Sanchez had readily expressed her acceptance and support for Lance. Daniel, Cleo, Rachel, Benji, even Josie, had all showed signs that they loved Lance unconditionally, regardless of his sexuality. Sanchez began, looking away from her husband and towards Lance with a motherly smile across her lips.

Anyone at the table could see Rosa and Jaime's tension. Rosa had purposely gone against Jaime's request, and it was obvious she didn't want to negotiate with him at the dinner table. If Keith didn't know any better, he'd say the married couple had opposing views about Lance's sexuality. See, Lance and Keith had gone over this in the car ride. It had been Keith's idea to make up a backstory, but it was Lance who did all the actual brainstorming.

They'd decided to spring a story from truth, with a few white lies added. My roommate is this kid named Hunk and-". Lance flicked at his brother's ear. Don't bash Hunk! He's my best buddy, and he's really good at drawing and chemistry. You never make fun of someone who's good at drawing and chemistry. Those are the two sacred arts of the universe.

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Now Keith's roommate is Shiro, and Shiro's like, super hot. This initiated a gasp from both Mrs. Sanchez and Rachel.

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Lance nodded like he agreed. He's hotter. He's probably the sexiest man alive. He used to play baseball in highschool so he's got really muscly arms, but they're not the nasty kind of muscles? So it's super-". Up until this point, Keith had been fairly quiet. It was now the prime moment for him to strike.

He asked him on a date last year, and got hardcore rejected. There were roses. Okay, that wasn't part of Lance's fake backstory. That part was completely true, and did Keith regret bringing it up? No, not really. Lance's jaw dropped open so far that Keith feared it would hit the table. Daniel leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. Lance bore holes into Daniel's skull, ignoring the giggles coming from Benji and Cleo's corner of the table.

Sanchez declared, getting up with his dirty plate. Keith coughed into his arm to mask his laughter. Lance looked like a defeated puppy, watching with sad eyes as his father and many other siblings got up to place their dirty dishes in the sink. Keith promised himself he wouldn't help Lance with the dishes.

Yet, here he was, arms covered in dish soap and fingers pruny. He'd agreed to help, not because he was a nice person or anything, but because Lance was moping in front of the sink like a baby. Bottom lip puckered out, blue eyes big and watery, arms limp at his sides.

better, perhaps

It was annoying. Everyone else had left the kitchen and dining area, most likely to put the children to bed. There had been no leftovers-Lance informed Keith that there never was any-and with Lance at the sink Mrs. Sanchez was left to her own devices. Lance decided to turn on the radio from the corner of the kitchen. The station played an older song, probably set from the last time Mrs. Sanchez had used it. Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance and said nothing, instead motioning to the song with his head.

It was oldies. Definitely oldies, and not the type that Keith listened to. The kind that turned into memes. Keith groaned. I literally just said don't dance, please don't do this-" He paused, listening to the song for a moment. It seemed that Lance didn't care about what Keith thought. He gripped onto Keith's soapy hands anyway, tugging on his arms towards the center of the kitchen. Keith tried his hardest to stand as still as possible. He refused to dance, there was no way in the world he would ever do such a thing.

With Lance? Dancing with Lance. No way, not in a million years. Except, watching his hips move was surreal. Lance seemed to know exactly what he was doing, his moves so completely effortless. It was such a casual dance, entirely simple and unique to Lance alone. And yet, Keith couldn't remember ever seeing someone move so gracefully.

He blurted it out suddenly, and his tone made it sound like both a question and a compliment. He was mentally banging his head against a wall, because no matter how badly Lance Sanchez annoyed him, the guy kept making Keith rethink.

And this moment was one of those rare times when Keith looked at Lance, and for a moment he wondered. Lance squeezed their palms, a smirk at his lips. Keith swallowed down a lump of air, finding that it was hard to concentrate when Lance was moving so effortlessly. He moved his gaze to literally anywhere other than his dancing partner. And then he was moving faster. Even though it was meant to be dorky and ridiculous, Keith couldn't help but think it skillful.

Natural talent, like Lance hadn't been to a single dance class in his life. Obviously Lance knew nothing about the waltz, or any classic dances for that matter. He just knew how to move. Lance wasn't singing anymore, just mouthing the words, and Keith was holding back from hitting him.

Maybe dancing with Lance wasn't half bad. As long as no one was there to watch him, as long as it was just Lance, as long as there was no judgment, then yes. Keith would dance with Lance. Spying on Keith and Lance wasn't something Cleo felt proud of.

It hadn't been her original intent to pry, she'd only come down the stairs to grab a glass of water before bed. So did she feel guilty peering at them from behind the kitchen doorway? Yes, of course she did. But was she about to stop her spying? No, probably not. She didn't consider herself the rebellious one of the family.

Cleo liked to think of herself as the responsible child, following Danny, whom the other siblings nicknamed 'the perfect child' due to his exemplary grades, law school scholarship, and american dream family. So, spying? At almost ten at night?

In her pajamas no less, body resting against the hallway wall. It felt ludicrous, and yet she was there, watching, prying, spying, smiling and giggling.

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What had made her stay? Lance smiled all the time, that was the signature Lance look. He was a tease, a flirt, a dork, and a prankster. But Cleo was also Lance's little sister, she'd seen him struggle through thick and thin, watched from the sidelines as he attended high school, came out of the closet, attended college. They had pulled at each others hair and broken each other's toys, but at the end of the day she loved him. Cleo liked to think she knew Lance Sanchez. And she knew when he really smiled.

She knew the difference between a fake grin and a genuine one, she knew him well enough to recognise when someone made him truly happy. The two boys swayed to the beat of an old eighties song, their hands intertwined and socked feet moving across the kitchen tile.

Lance groaned. That gets interrupted thanks to Zarkon. Klance smut scenario: Keith finally admits his feelings toward Lance now they're outside having a lovely relaxing day in nature. That is until they fuck against a tree. Lance was a simple tailor working for the Holts. He lived a calm life, despite the current war going on between Altea and Dibazal.

He loved his work, family and friends and was happily content.

Klance fake dating ao3

Then one day a boy walked into the shop, with the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen. Keith, was not a simple tailor. He was a prince. With the ongoing war, and his coronation coming up, he's had a lot on his mind.

Then, he meets a young tailor named Lance. Keith feels something, he doesn't know what, but he does. Something, life changing. Lance was so done with his soon to be ex. This was the fifth time Lotor had stood him up at a restaurant with a lame-ass text with an even worse excuse. He was done! Life has been running slow for the young vampire, Keith. He's been stuck at the ripe age of 22 for about a hundred years and was starting to get tired of the same old routine.

But on the trip to Japan, he meets a certain Cuban boy that could show him the true meaning of life once again. Some Klance one-shots of ideas that I've had but didn't want to write entire fanfics on them! I plan on writing a bunch of different ones so it's a surpise as I go! Whatever inspires me that day I guess. Keith unexpectedly loses consciousness after dinner with the paladins.

Lance is placed under control of watching over him. Embark on their journey of getting through his unknown sickness. It all started with a stupid phone app. Now Keith might lose Lance and emotions and memories, he locked up so long ago, are resurfacing and tormenting him.

He hates it and he sure as hell will deny his feelings if it means he'll be able to stay friends with the blue Paladin.

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Lance is afraid he messed everything up just from a small misunderstanding. He doesn't want Keith to hate him. He doesn't want to go back to how things were at the Garrison where Keith had ignored his very existence. Nothing frightened him more then Keith forgetting him all over again. Keith raised an eyebrow.

Fake dating is gonna include fake flirting." Keith swallowed. "I guess that makes sense." As they reached the chicken coup, a nasty scent wafted in through Keith's nose. Looking through a wall of barbed wire, Keith counted nine chickens, all squawking loudly when Lance moved to unhook the gate's hinge. Oct 26,   *this story was written by Gibslythe on ao3* "Two whole months of free laundry in exchange for two weeks of being my fake boyfriend. Deal?" Keith hesitated for a moment. Was this really worth it? Hardly. Lance was an asshole, and he wasn't sure what fake dating would entail. But, free laundry was free laundry, right? "Alright, it's a deal."Content Rating: mature. "Two whole months of free laundry in exchange for two weeks of being my fake boyfriend. Deal?" Keith hesitated for a moment. Was this really worth it? Hardly. Lance was an asshole, and he wasn't sure what fake dating would entail. But, free laundry was free laundry, right? "Alright, it's a deal.".

Keith sighed. Come on, I'll clean you up. It's okay now. You want a lifesaver? The depressing color caught his eye no matter where he looked, but it was better than looking at the small coffin in front of him. Tears welled up behind his eyes. He bit his lip and clenched his fists together, squeezing his eyes shut.

When he relaxed, the dark haired boy next to him comfortingly pressed something into his hand. A candy- a lifesaver. He put it in his mouth and took Keith's hand.



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