klance-daydreams

[klance-daydreams]

Commission was done for @ luchsmaedchen, for the "Trouble's Making Everything All Right" series by Mytay on AO3!

It was such a pleasure to work on this!! 😭💞 also Yui almost spoiled the entire thing for me, I swear. I haven't caught up reading, but I hope it matches the fic's vibe for everyone who did!

Commissions are still open! linktr.ee/mezzy

[klance-daydreams]

@klance-daydreams keith screenshot redraw for you <333

[klance-daydreams]

i love whatever this is called. if this gets 1 like i’ll make the whole team

[klance-daydreams]

Keith doesn’t place his helmet on the ground as much as he slams it. It bounces and rolls away out of sight, but his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t even bother to wait for the ramp to descend; he jumps out of Red’s mouth the second she lands. Tremors wrack his joints but he doesn’t care. There’s something more important to focus on. Someone more important.

“Lance!”

Keith skids to a halt in front of Blue and bangs his fists on her hatch. “Let me in! Lance, let me—”

There’s muffled coughing from inside the lion. It’s minute, but it’s there. It makes Keith’s heart skip. He’s alive. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

“Lance?” He croaks.

He can’t tell what picture will be painted once he breaches the cockpit. Whether it’ll be covered in shades of red or blue. Whether Lance will greet him with a weak wave and a tired hug, or he’ll be on the floor, limbs twisted in odd angles. The hit he took during the battle looked heavy, but there wasn’t much Keith could see past the blinding explosion. There was no telling how the impact rattled Lance. In that moment, when orange and white seared the inside of his eyelids and his heart plummeted to his stomach, Keith had been so sure Blue had been burst into pieces.

But now he stands outside the intact lion with its pilot still inside, still alive, but who knows for how lo—

“Lance, baby,” Keith croaks with his head against the metal door. It’s still battle-warm. “Won’t you let me in?”

There’s a slight whirring noise before the door slides open. Keith all but collapses inside. He searches wildly, eyes roving everywhere, looking for a body, a suit, tan skin, anything—

Lance is slumped over in the pilot’s chair. “Yahoo,” he mumbles, “Right here.”

“Lance,” Keith inhales a bated breath and rushes over to assess him.

He receives a half-hearted peace sign for his troubles. Lance’s fingers tremble. “Hey, good looking. You come here often?”

Still joking. That’s good. Keith pats his body down to assess for injuries. He meticulously starts removing armor when the bulky plating gets in the way.

“Woah, woah! At least three dates before the clothes come off, man. I’ll have you know that I’m a decent guy.”

“We’re literally dating, Lance.”

“Oh.” He dishes him a lopsided grin. “Well, in that case, proposition away.”

Keith ignores him. He’s concussed, that’s for sure. Who knows what other injuries are hiding? He wishes he had more light, but any more brightness would surely stab at Lance’s eyes. He continues to peel off pieces of armor and feel his limbs up and down. Keith only stops when he hears Lance wince.

He holds his forearm precariously. “Here? It hurts here?”

Lance nods. “Yeah it—I was holding the throttle lever when it, you know—fuck.” He grits his teeth and clenches his eyes shut.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t—I didn’t notice—I’m,” Lance takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult.”

“You’re not difficult,” Keith rushes out quicker than he breathes, “Don’t be sorry. Ever.”

Lance lets out a watery laugh. “Ever?”

Keith nods solemnly.

“What if I do something evil? Like uh, get rid of all food that’s not goo? Or chuck your jacket out the airlock?”

“I might cry.”

“Fuck,” Lance hisses, “That’s worse. So much worse. Don’t uh—Keith, don’t do that.”

“Don’t cry?” Keith finds a gauze to wrap his bleeding arm in. Lance winces when he tightens it around the wound.

“Ah—yeah. You can’t cry. It’s illegal in ten states. And all of space.”

It takes all of Keith’s willpower not to burst into tears in that moment. He swears he’s not trying to be spiteful or petty, but the tightness in his throat suddenly has him in a chokehold. Everything catches up to him once he’s got Lance safe and secured in front of him. He’s here. Lance is here. He’s alive and he’s not hurt—not too badly—not skewered or impaled or crushed by anything, not unconscious or unresponsive. God, it could’ve been worse. So, so much worse. He could’ve, Lance might’ve—

“What?” Lance cries. “Did you have the waterworks ready on cue? What in the grammy-nominated actor is this? Are you—what are you—” He splutters. Despite all of it, Lance reaches forward with his uninjured arm to whisk the stray tears off his face.

“Guess I’m—” Keith hiccups. “Guess I’m an outlaw.”

With slow, stiff motions, Lance detaches himself from the seat and leans downwards to where Keith is kneeled. He winds his arms around Keith’s neck and fists his fingers into his hair.

“What are you doing? Your injury, it’s—”

“I’m obviously arresting you, genius. Hands behind my back.”

Keith sniffles but he still complies. “I thought it’s hands behind my back.”

“Nuh uh.” Lance shakes his head. “My lion, I make the rules.”

They stay like that, in their awkward embrace, until well after it becomes uncomfortable and Keith’s limbs get sore. They’re still drenched in their battle sweat and it’s a little gross, but he doesn’t want to let go. Lance’s heart beats against his, and what’s most important is that it beats. Keith feels it, feels the rise and fall of his chest, the little breaths against his neck, and the hair tickling his shoulder. He lets himself soak in it and he remains ever so grateful that it, this, can exist for even one more day.

if you liked this you might like my fics on ao3!

[klance-daydreams]

a little sketch based on @klance-daydreams’ cowboy klance art!!!!

[klance-daydreams]

a little sketch based on @klance-daydreams’ cowboy klance art!!!!

[klance-daydreams]

a little sketch based on @klance-daydreams’ cowboy klance art!!!!

[klance-daydreams]

a little sketch based on @klance-daydreams’ cowboy klance art!!!!

[klance-daydreams]

a little sketch based on @klance-daydreams’ cowboy klance art!!!!

[klance-daydreams]

altean pool

[klance-daydreams]

Watching you post three times in a week after saying you were gonna take a break on insta is HILARIOUS

you got possessed by the ghost of klance

LITERALLY 😭😭😭 i swear i truly was not planning to draw ANYTHING this week and then all of a sudden BOOM 💥 klance cowboys all week long. but no fr im actually gonna take a break now from drawing trust im pooped. off to bed i go 🛌🏽😴

[klance-daydreams]

cowboy klance has not left my brain yet so im subjecting everyone to them until forever probably

[klance-daydreams]

one sec

[klance-daydreams]

[klance-daydreams]

Keith shoved open the swinging doors and stepped into the saloon. Light filtered in at his back, illuminating the wooden interiors. From inside the bar, he could hear the sound of someone playing piano, people talking, and a couple of guys arguing over checkers. None of those things interested him, though. He headed purposefully for the bartop and sat down at a tall stool.

“Whiskey,” he asked the bartender, raising a hand and tapping the dark wooden bartop with another. The bartender turned around angrily with a flash in his eyes.

“Keith motherfuckin’ Kogane,” he hissed, accent drawling out his name in a way Keith absolutely loved. “I thought I told you never to come back here.”

Lance McClain, barkeep at The Lion’s Share, was now rolling up the white sleeves of his shirt to just over the forearms. Keith followed the movement with hungry eyes. Fuck, did he have a thing for forearms now?

“Desperate times?” Keith responded easily. He pulled a couple of coins out of his pocket and slid them over the bar. “Now, about that whiskey. Neat, if you don’t mind.”

“I mind!” Lance snapped, picking up the coins anyway. He turned on his heel and started to bend down as he rummaged for a glass and a bottle. Keith tipped back his dark brown hat from his eyes to better take in the view.

“What, aren’t you curious why I’m here this time?”

Lance poured the glass and slid it over with practiced ease, eyes bored. He wiped his hand on his apron.

“I’m sure your nuisance will reveal itself shortly,” he said flatly. Keith shrugged and took a far-too-big swig of his drink. It burned like fire going down, but it woke him up, which he knew he’d need soon.

Suddenly, a bang silenced the events of the tavern. Everyone turned to face whoever slammed the door open. Everyone, that is, except for Keith and Lance.

“‘Bout time,” Keith sighed.

“I hate you,” Lance responded. A few patrons of the bar ran out the door, including the guys arguing over checkers in the corner. Keith watched them leave forlornly, wondering who actually won their game. The man who entered stomped forward, spurs rattling, dark clothes impractical for the hot desert day outside but perfectly suited to intimidation.

“Keith Yorak Kogane, you’re under arrest for—“

“Yorak?” Lance demanded with a snort, still not looking at the newcomer. “What the fuck?”

“My mom was unusual.” Keith tried to stave off the rising blush in his cheeks.

The newcomer drew his pistol. “Don’t move unless you want to be shot. I have instructions to take you in dead or alive, doesn’t matter to me which it is.”

Lance huffed.

“No fights in my bar, Sheriff Sendak.” He looked coldly at the sheriff, a frown tugging at his lips. Keith bit back a smug grin.

“Or what?” The sheriff demanded.

Without blinking, Lance drew a pistol from a holster hidden under his apron and fired three pinpoint shots around Sendak’s head. Each landed perfectly framing his skull. Sendak froze, mouth open.

“Get the hell out.” Lance holstered the pistol again and glared down his nose at the sheriff. Keith’s mouth watered a little. Grumbling something about the law and respect, Sendak turned on his heel and started speedily lumbering out of the bar, shoulders tensed. When the doors closed behind him, Keith raised an eyebrow up at Lance.

“That was good shooting this time. I miss the thing where you shot their hats off, though.”

Lance shrugged with a wicked grin. “If I did end up having to kill him, I wanted to keep the hat.”

Keith smiled into his glass.

[klance-daydreams]

And then he faints.

[klance-daydreams]

redraw comparison on my instagram