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kaakelymaakely · 1 month ago

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do i wanna know

KLANCE FANFICTION CHAPTER 1

Monster Hunter! Keith au

Admittedly, the house was pretty shitty– and definitely unsafe. Its foundation was built of crumbling stone, hastily plastered together. As if on cue, he watched a particularly large piece of rubble break off of its base and fall to the ground, bouncing slightly off the overgrown grass. When he creaked open the door, having to put a bit of shoulder into it, it barely stayed attached to his hinges. Not to mention the floorboards were whining under the pressure of his footsteps, bending enough to make him nervous.

But it was on the outskirts of town, meaning little to no unwanted visitors. And anyone who dared to come close were probably thwarted by the looming forest right in his backyard. There were legends about those woods, the same ones that brought him here in the first place. And even he could admit they were a little terrifying.

Keith arched his back, stretching the tense muscles until he heard the satisfying pop of his spine. He was starting to ache after unloading box after box from the moving trunk. He was extra careful to safely place the current box he was holding onto the kitchen table, affectionately patting the cardboard sides.

Just as an extra measure to make sure nothing in this particular box had broken, he pulled at the box’s flaps. Keith ran his hand over his equipment, checking for any chips or malfunctions. When he thankfully came back empty handed, he exhaled. He lingered over the box before turning on his heel, going to grab the next items, before he stumbled upon a loose floorboard.

Well, stumbled sounds a bit too graceful. The more appropriate word would be “tripped.” His foot caught on the out-of-place floorboard, twisting at an awkward angle that was sure to leave a sprain, and he unceremoniously tumbled to the ground, landing on his tailbone.

“Fucking shit.” he muttered. He used the heel of his foot to kick at the floorboard in a bout of misplaced anger. It shifted, as if it was completely detached from the rest of the floor. “Huh?”

Keith pushed off the ground, adjusting to rest on his knees, and leaned over to crawl to the wooden plank. The palms of his hands were collecting dirt, and his jeans were certainly caked in the same grime by now. He wiped his hand on his pants, not caring if it made his jeans worse, and with concerning ease, he peels back the floorboard.

Sitting nestled underneath the floor was… a notebook? Keith brushes his hand along its leather cover, pulling away to reveal a thick layer of dust. Not thinking, he leans and blows a steady puff of air, making the dust fly. It clouds his face and he coughs, waving it away. The journal’s cover is now visible, but not understandable. The title is just vague symbols, possibly in a language he’s never seen before. Keith notes the lack of an author– clearly this was someone’s personal notebook.

Wait. If this was someone’s journal, could it have some insights on the town’s mysteries? This person was clearly trying to hide it from people, placing it out of sight from prying eyes. Considering how close this house was to the woods, maybe the owner saw some stuff and wrote it down? Maybe this person was here for the same reason Keith was. But then why would they bolt town and leave their findings behind? Unless… they didn’t leave by choice. The idea has thrilling adrenaline pumping through his veins. Maybe this town really would be his big break!

Keith flexes his fingers, itching to grab the notebook and leaf through his pages. The only thing stopping him from doing just that was a firm knock on his door. For a second, he was convinced it was coming from his backdoor, some author-eating-monster seeking Keith out on their own volition. But that would be too good to be true.

He rolls his eyes so hard that it’s almost uncomfortable. It was definitely coming from his front door, which meant it was definitely one of the townsfolk, no doubt trying to welcome him into their little village. Shouldn’t they be afraid of the scary looking house next to the scary looking woods? That’s the whole point of moving to the outskirts of town– to ward off any visitors. When he goes to interview the community, he’d rather it be on his own terms.

Ignoring the knock, Keith gently picks up the book with both of his hands, cradling it as if it was some fragile object. He immediately flips open the cover, skimming through the pages. Each page was filled from bottom to top, some chapters even having notes scribbled on the margins. But unfortunately, he couldn’t make out a single word; It was written in those same symbols on the cover.

Despite this, Keith smiled, loving the challenge. It added another layer of mystery to the whole situation, convincing him that this book really did have something encrypted about a monster– it was only a matter of deciphering it.

His listeners were going to love this.

His excitement only lasted a split second longer before being interrupted by another knock. And another. And another. And another. and–

“Alright! Jesus!” Keith exclaimed, his voice flushed with annoyance. He hugs the book to his chest and pulls himself up to his feet. Keith shuffles the detached floorboard around with his foot before it falls back into place, covering back up the secret compartment. Now at least he knows where he can hide things– just in case.

He reluctantly stalks to the door, dragging his feet behind him. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, as he’d rather immediately delve into trying to decipher the notebook. But he can’t exactly focus when his unwelcome visitor is still repeatedly pounding on the wood of his door.

He doesn’t bother looking through his peephole, already knowing it’s too grimey to clearly see through, and swings the door open. Standing on his porch, arm still raised as if he was mid-knock, was some random guy. A cute guy, his mind unhelpfully supplies, and if that doesn’t piss him off even more. Keith scowls, raising an impatient eyebrow in question. The guy smiles a charming grin, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. He seems pleased to see Keith, and Keith doesn’t know how to deal with that.

So he goes to slam the door in this dude’s face.

He doesn’t get far, as the guy quickly sticks his foot in the crack of the door before it could close. The guy slowly nudges it back open, and keeps a secure hand on the doorframe, as if daring Keith to try that stunt again. Keith’s almost convinced the guy is just going to waltz into his house, but he doesn’t. He stays with his feet planted on the porch, heels settled in Keith’s ironic welcome mat.

“Hey!” The Cute Guy greets. His voice is light and cheerful, as if Keith hadn’t just almost crushed his foot with the door. “My name’s Lance! Figured I should introduce myself to the town newbie. You know?”

When Keith remains silent, Lance frowns, his eyebrows pinching tightly together. It’s not quite a scowl, not as mean as Keith’s, but it’s obvious he’s a little annoyed. “This is the part where you say your name. Didn’t they teach you manners in kindergarten?”

Keith grunts. Man, was this guy quick to insult him. Suddenly, Lance didn’t seem as cute as he thought. He was already over the conversation, tempted to brush past Lance and head into town, just to escape him. But then that’d mean running into other townsfolk, and Keith figures he could indulge just a little. The quicker he finished the conversation, the quicker he could start working on this journal.

At the reminder, he gently squeezes it tighter. Maybe he shouldn’t have answered the door with it, just in case Lance tried something stupid. “It’s Keith.”

Lance leans in close, cupping his hand to his ear. When he speaks, his voice is frail, imitating an old man. “Sorry sonny, I didn’t catch that. Did you say Queef?”

Keith bristles. “Obviously I did not . It’s Keith .”

“Oh!” Lance laughs, dropping his hand back to his side. Keith has half a mind not to swat him right then and there. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I did.” Keith bites out between clenched teeth. “Probably can’t hear me past your wrinkles, old man.”

Lance clenches his jaw, and the corner of Keith’s mouth twitches upwards. He doesn’t know why getting under Lance’s skin was sending a thrill of exhilaration down his spine, lighting him up in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, but it’s addicting. Keith likes chipping away at Lance’s seemingly cocky, carefree attitude, even if he only met him two minutes ago.

“I am not an old man!” Lance exclaims, finally losing his cool. Keith allows himself to smirk. “I’m only 23, and I take very good care of my skin! It’s flawless and smooth, like a baby’s butt!”

Keith snorts. “Probably smells like one too.”

“Yeah– well– at least I’m not living in some creepy old house!”

“It’s not creepy,” it was definitely creepy, “Just has personality. Something you wouldn’t know.”

“Psh,” Lance scoffs. “I have more personality in my little toe than you have in your whole body.”

Keith goes to retort, insist that ‘ a wet piece of cardboard is more interesting than you, Lance’ – but he catches himself. What is he doing? Talking to some villager as if he’s a friend! The pit in Keith’s chest aches, and he doesn’t know why. He immediately pulls away, hiding behind an air of indifference, breathing in deep enough to feel his shoulders rise. “So what do you want?”

Lance doesn’t notice Keith’s sudden change– and if he does, he ignores it, still acting on the defense. “I came here to welcome you, but now I’m more interested in this crummy old house. What, inherit it from grandma?”

He doesn’t care, he really doesn’t, but he can’t help but shove it in Lance’s face and hope it hurts. “I never knew my grandma, dick-hole.”

Surprisingly it works, and Lance looks apologetic. He shakily raises up a pie, one that Keith didn’t even realize he was holding. He mentally curses himself for not being his observant self, too lost in raising Lance’s hackles. Another reason to end this conversation as quickly as possible– Lance was too distracting. And Keith needed to focus .

“...I brought a peace offering…?” Lance smiles encouragingly, and Keith throws out his previous statement. He can’t help it, not when Lance looks at him like that.

“How could you have brought a peace offering unless you knew you were gonna pick a fight.”

”I did not pick a– whatever. It was gonna be a regular old housewarming gift, but now it’s more special. You should feel honored.”

”Wow. I am so honored.”

Lance ignores his sarcasm, which honestly ticks him off. “Can I come inside and eat this pie with you, or are you gonna slap me with that diary of yours?”

Keith forgot he was even holding it. He hugs it protectively against his chest. ”first off, it’s not a diary, it’s a notebook–”

”--okay, Greg Heffley–”

”--And second off, it’s not mine. I found it under a floorboard.”

Lance fixes him with an odd expression, as if he grew two heads, and Keith can’t blame him. He knows he sounds crazy. “Um, okay. Weeiiiirrdd.”

For the first and final time, Keith finds himself agreeing with lance. “Right?”

”...So is that a no to me coming in?”

Keith mulls it over, which surprises himself. Was he actually considering inviting someone inside to share a pie? Especially if it was Lance, someone who’s managed to tear down his walls in minutes without him even realizing? The biggest distraction he’s met?

But…maybe Lance could help him. He could invite him in and then interrogate him about the monster rumors, maybe get some sort of answers. Hell, maybe Lance could even help him decipher his journal– maybe the symbols are a part of the town’s history, and they all can read it? Keith tightens his grip on the notebook.

“Fine.” He manages to say. “But only because I have questions.”

“Questions? About what? I didn't realize I was walking into an interview,” Lance smiles cheekily. “I would've brought my nice shoes.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “You own nice shoes?”

Lance smiles a bit too brightly. “Yep! My tie-dye crocs.”

Alright, Keith knows he’s lying. Or at least he hopes he is. Lance is probably just trying to get a reaction out of him, but Keith refuses to rise to the bait. Instead, he just mumbles under his breath. “How fitting.”

Keith pivots, ducking back into his house. He expects Lance to follow him, but when he doesn’t hear the footfall of a second pair of feet, he looks over his shoulder. Lance is still standing on his doormat, shuffling his feet back and forth. He seems hesitant to follow, too busy staring down Keith’s interior. Keith follows his gaze to the large mirror hanging on the wall. Okay, yeah, it really does look like it’d lead into a different dimension or something; he doesn’t blame lance for being a bit freaked out.

He doesn’t acknowledge this though, instead rolling his eyes. Keith waves his hand lazily, beckoning for Lance to follow. Any hesitation dissipates from Lance’s eyes and he smiles, trotting his way into the house, and closing the door behind him.

Keith leads him into his living room and gestures towards his couch, a piece of furnishing that came with the house. He hadn’t had the chance to clean it yet, so when Lance plops down, a cloud of dust flies in the air. While Lance is busy choking, Keith turns his back, hiding his face as he snickers to himself. He treks over to the kitchen table where his box of equipment lays. He places the book down behind the box, just out of view from Lance, and starts digging through the package. He shuffles through, pulling out his laptop and placing it to the side.

“What’s with the tech?” Lance asks.

Keith doesn’t look at him, focusing on the box’s contents.

Where the hell is it?

“Hellloooo?” Lance calls out.

Keith grunts in response, tuning him out as he finally pulls out what he was looking for– a small device. Finally. He balances his laptop in his other hand, and stalks back into the living room, sitting down in the chair across from Lance. He clicks a button on the device and places it on the table between them.

Lance’s face twists. “Are you recording me right now?”

“Yes.”

“Um,” Lance furrows his brows. “Why?”

Unfolding his laptop and opening a blank document, Keith starts typing, not giving much attention to Lance. He writes down the date and his guest’s name, before realizing… “What's your last name?”

“McClain. Seriously though, what’s happening?”

“I run a podcast.” Keith answers half-heartedly.

“Ooooo a podcast?” Lance clicks his tongue. “About what?”

Keith… stops typing. Interest was not the reaction he was inspecting. He more expected him to make a snide comment about his ‘job as an influencer,’ or straight up walk out. Caught off guard, he stumbles over his words before spitting out, “The supernatural.”

When Lance doesn’t immediately retort, Keith glances up, gauging his reaction. Pinched eyebrows, quirked frown, darting eyes… Lance was nervous. Keith smiled– he definitely knew something– or, even better, saw something.

Under Keith’s searching eyes, Lance finally speaks up. “...The supernatural?”

Keith nods his head, ducking down to document Lance’s abnormal reaction. It’s important to take note for his listeners. “Yes, I’m sort of a monster hunter. Well, aspiring monster hunter.”

“You kill monsters?”

“...No,” Keith frowns. “I just try to prove their existence.”

He leans in. “Have you found anything so far?”

Keith’s frown turns into a scowl under Lance’s attention. “ I’m supposed to be interviewing you .”

Lance laughs, leaning back against the couch. “Consider it a trade off. I’m not just going to be giving you free content for your podcast, man.”

“Fine.” he reluctantly grits through his teeth. He hates talking about himself, but he needs somewhere to start with this town’s rumors. And based on how Lance is acting, he should definitely have something good. “No, I haven’t. But I will. And based on the rumors I’ve heard from this town, it should be something good. Missing livestock, torn down trees, that landmark in the forest that mysteriously went missing… it all adds up to something, and I’m going to figure out what.”

“What makes you think it’s not just some animal?”

“The same way your town doesn’t.

Lance's smirk falters, and he shifts uncomfortably. Keith writes it down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Keith crosses his arms, his expression challenging. “You’re all terrified of it. You avoid the woods like the plague, you warn outsiders not to go in, and yet no one will say what’s really out there. Animals don’t get that kind of reaction. Monsters do.”

Lance huffs, crossing his arms in turn. “Maybe we’re just superstitious. Small-town charm, you know? People love a good ghost story.”

“Well if it’s just a ghost story, then you won’t mind entertaining it for my podcast.” he shrugs.

Lance snorts, shaking his head. “You want me to go on your podcast and talk about spooky bedtime stories? What, you think I’m gonna say the boogeyman’s my neighbor?”

Keith leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice drops just enough to make Lance hesitate. “I think you’ve seen something. Maybe you don’t want to admit it, or maybe you’re just scared, but you’ve heard the same rumors as I have.”

Lance purses his lips, before his face breaks into a smug smile. “Fine, I’ll bite. Maybe I’ve seen some stuff. Help me cut this pie and I’ll talk.”

#voltron #klance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #keith x lance #voltron fanfic #fanfiction #originally posted on ao3 #klance fanfiction #I am cringe and FREE #Second chapter might be out tomorrow lolz

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