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Slowly, his face stretches into a blinding grin, one Keith has never seen pointed his way before.
“Are you an astronaut? ‘Cause your ass is out of this world,” Lance quips with a flirtatious tilt of his brow, leaning his body forward into Keith’s space.
“What?!”
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in my dreams you're my worst nightmare by stillastay
Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender
30 Aug 2026
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"I missed you so much,” a choked whisper against his neck. Keith’s chest plate presses against his with a creak.
“Can’t…breathe,” Lance struggles out. His arms hang still by his sides.
Keith relents just enough to let him take a full breath but doesn’t let go.
“Lance…”
Keith lifts his palms to cradle his face, desperately searching his eyes. Then, he pushes forward and kisses him.
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“The great Loverboy Lance can’t handle a little flirting during a spar? I thought this was your forte.”
Lance whips around to glare at him.
“I can, too! Just you wait, Mullet. The next time you visit, I’ll be so zen’d out on sword fighting I’ll be able to disarm you in my sleep!”
Keith looks him up and down, settling his gaze on the curl of wet hair behind his right ear.
“You want to bet?” he asks, holding out his palm.
Lance hesitates for a moment, then takes his hand.
“If I win, I get to take you out.”
"Deal."
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It was a small peck, a quick press of lips, but the second it happened, Keith knew something was wrong. Jerking backwards as if his gaze alone had burned him, Keith stared in horror as Lance’s surprised frown deepened.
“Woah, Keith, I’m– I’m sorry, but I don’t feel that way."
or: Lance rejects Keith, and years later, Keith still struggles to move on (until he doesn't have to)
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“Cheaters get to do the dishes,” he drops, a single eyebrow raised to dare Jisung to question him.
Flabbergasted by the accusation, Jisung lowers his fist and steps up to him with waving hands.
“I did not cheat on you! It was literally a game, which you played too, might I add,” he points an accusatory finger right in Minho’s face.
Dramatically, and as if it’s paining him deeply to say, Minho croons, “Oh, I’m heartbroken, Jisungie. Completely devastated.” His arms uncross, and he lays one of his palms over his heart. “Who would think my husband could be so cruel?”
Jisung scoffs at him, “We’re not even married.”
Minho gasps loudly, “And now he wants a divorce! I should’ve known you were too good to be true. No one has a good ass and heart.”
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falling right into your arms by stillastay for CookieTails
Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender
27 Mar 2026
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“You’re lucky I used to be a lifeguard. You could’ve drowned us both back there."
“You nearly killed me, and you’re blaming me?” Keith smacked Lance’s shoulder, untangling himself from the loose confine of his arms.
Lance threw his head back in a cackle and let him escape, watching as he not-so-gracefully stumbled with the force of another wave. He glared at Lance when the other bent over with laughter, clutching his stomach like a cheap Christmas Santa decoration.
“You should–“ he gasped between chortles, “you should see yourself. You’re like a disgruntled wet kitten.”
His mockery didn’t amuse Keith in the slightest.
“I hate you.”
Or: Keith forgets to mention that he can't swim and maybe he's also just a little bit in love with Lance
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Everything reminded him of Jisung – from the shoes discarded by the studio door that he helped Minho pick out to the matching couples’ bracelet wrapped around Minho’s wrist and the melting iced americano sitting in his hand. He used to wake up and look forward to sunny days because he could undoubtedly expect a message from Jisung asking to hang out.
But that was before Minho ruined it all.
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“Did you know that shingleback lizards mate for life?” Jisung said suddenly, because that’s just what he did. “The male has to prove himself by following the female around until she decides he’s giving her enough care and attention. Then they have loads of babies and live happily ever after.” His fingers mindlessly tapped a pattern over Minho’s chest.
“Is this a hint for me to be more doting on you?” Minho asked, hand sliding over his naked ribs.
“You already spoil me enough, hyung,” Jisung answered honestly.
“So, you get enough attention, and then we’ll have loads of babies together?”
Jisung’s face burst into flames.
“Minho!” He slapped his chest lightly, feeling scandalised. “You do realise we’re both men, right?”
Minho, like a damn succubus in disguise, simply shrugged, “No harm in trying.”
Or: minsung's whatevership through the years
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Silently, Jisung tilted his head to the side, wordlessly asking him, “Shall we team up?” Minho’s responding coy eyebrow raise was answer enough and made his insides warm pleasantly. It made him want to drink it in in the privacy of their home, savour it away from prying eyes. But they were at a variety show now, and Jisung was already slowly getting pushed to the right side of the stage by one of the hosts with a giant rice cracker clutched in his hand.
All intelligent thought flew out of his brain the second Minho was in front of him, and all that remained was a dull buzzing underneath his skin. It crept up dangerously close to the surface, so, after biting down on the cracker, Jisung buried his hands in his pockets, lest he use them to do something stupid, like pull Minho in closer.
“Think you can resist me, jagi-ya?” Minho joked, eyeing the action.
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“Your Highness,” the guard bows deeply, but Lance can see the subtle upturn of his lips even with the way his hair falls in waves in his face, obscuring his expression. Lance snickers.
“Please rise, my good sir,” the prince drawls in an exaggerated posh voice. “What news hath you brought me this fine day?”
The guard’s eyes glint with amusement as he stands to his full height, only a hair taller than the prince himself, his bulky black armour adding to the effect, making him appear even bigger. Lance quivers in his capelet.
“I have come to escort His Highness to the dining room as per His Highness’s request.”
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Tensions have been rising the past year between Altea and the Galra Empire, and Lance somehow found himself lost in the centre of it all. Following the death of his mother, and the worsening illness of his father, Lance was thrust into the complicated political climate between the two kingdoms with little time to prepare. He knew his time to rule would come one day, he just wasn’t expecting it to come so soon.
But when the prince goes missing, leaving a gruesome, bloody mess in his place, all fingers point to his personal Galra guard, Keith.
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“God, hyung is so weird.” Jeongin whips around his phone screen, and Jisung leans in closer to read their chat log.
Jisung scoffs, “That’s nothing, you should see the weird shit he does with me.”
Jeongin takes a sip of his coffee with a vague grimace. “No one wants to see the weird shit you two do together. Can you tell him to be normal? He always listens to you.”
Jisung chuckles smugly at his desperation, taking an obnoxious slurp of his own drink. “Minho-hyung doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“Are you dumb?”
“Ya!” Jisung rears his arm back in a threatening gesture. “I’m still older than you, you brat.”
Jeongin flinches back and laughs, curling away from his fist. “Okay, okay,” he puts his hands up in a placating manner, “but you have to know that Minho-hyung is completely whipped for you, right? You’re the exception to literally every one of his rules. He’ll do anything, as long as it’s you asking.”
“Anything I ask him to, huh?”
Or: five times Jisung tests Minho's ability to say no to him
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When he recalled his past self, the memories came to mind unbiddenly and flowed into the air in the form of a wistful tale of loneliness and heartache.
“I was born to be loved.”
Minho watched his declaration carefully, taking in the way his breath shuddered on an exhale.
“And?” he questioned, lips a breath away from his. “Are you?”
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He let his feelings stew inside of him, dull and resigned. They weren’t flurried like usual, weren’t busting at the seams with energy to expel out of him. They settled. They grew heavy and dark and ate him up from the inside. The negative thoughts snuck up on him. With every intrusive push from a “fan” at the airport and every voice crack on stage, they floated to the forefront of his mind: You’re not cut out for this. No one likes you. Just give up.
And then he’d crawl into the company car and be pulled from schedule to schedule and at that point, he just didn’t have the time or energy to fight off the thoughts. He started to believe them. He began thinking about what his life would look like if he weren’t in Stray Kids. And then he stopped being able to picture the rest of his life at all. He wanted to leave – in what capacity, he didn’t know, he just needed to get away.
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A glimpse into the mind of Jisung on the day he went missing.
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“Why am I even doing this?” he complained to himself, snatching miscellaneous ingredients off the shelves and angrily slapping them against the counter. “He is so rude.” He moved to the cabinet and slammed his next victim – a mug with an image of a grumpy cat with its middle finger up – next to the kettle. “So ungrateful.” He gripped a knife now, plunging it mercilessly into a tomato, its red guts bleeding out onto the cutting board. “Why do I try so hard with him?”
Or: Leading Voltron is hard, but remembering you're not alone is harder
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Keith puffed out a startled laugh, ears beginning to burn slightly.
“Oh yeah? That turn you on, Sharpshooter?” he drawled, letting his gaze flit over the limited view of his figure on the screen.
Lance was momentarily stunned into silence, mouth opening and closing soundlessly before he crossed his arms and diverted his gaze away from the camera.
“You’re evil.”
“What, you can dish it out but not take it?” Keith teased, relishing in every glimpse of feeling Lance portrayed.
Affronted, Lance levelled a glare at him, nose scrunched in that way it did when he was embarrassed.
“Hey! I can take it just as well as you!” he huffed. Keith lifted a single eyebrow. “That came out wrong.”
Or: Keith and Lance flirt too much, stand too close together and confuse their relationship status in front of friends and family. It takes them way too long to do something about it.
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Orange, he decided, was a terrible colour for a hospital ward. It looked too bright and jaunty against the fluorescent lights and sterile floors and gave him a headache if he stared too long.
Or maybe that was just his concussion.
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Keith and Lance are stuck in the hospital after the final battle for Earth and find each other with Nadia's help.
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“I should have been her friend. I should have been there for her after Lotor betrayed us, and, instead, I was her…rebound,” Lance frowns. "That’s not what love looks like to me," he finishes softly with a quiet, aching look.
“Well,” Keith clears his throat awkwardly, “what does love look like to you?"
in which Lance confesses that his brief relationship with Allura wasn't what it seemed, and Keith scrambles to fill the empty space
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Lance was pacing a hole in the floorboards of his living room. He cursed violently when his toe caught on the corner of the rug, and he tripped, forcing him to stop his anxious movements. He hadn’t slept in two days, ever since Pidge informed him that a Blade of Marmora team had been ambushed on their last mission – Keith’s team.
“They were supposed to check in three days ago,” Pidge’s voice was delicate over the receiver. Lance could hear shuffling and frantic typing coming from the other side.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Keith always checks in.” Lance nervously gripped his phone, refusing to jump to conclusions so soon but feeling the need to expel his nervous energy so he wouldn’t undeservedly explode on Pidge.
“They…the rest of the BOM are issuing MIAs for Keith’s team,” the girl continues, “But it’s not looking good. Like you said, Keith always checks in.”
At that moment, Lance felt his whole world shatter.
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Words can’t describe the violent flurry of emotions Lance felt at seeing Keith again. It made him nauseous. He wants to scream or maybe cry, he’s not sure. What he does know is how much he missed that idiot, how his arms spread for a hug, aching to hold him, make sure he’s real, to keep him from leaving again.
But Keith came back different, and Lance struggles to find his footing with a cooler, grizzled, older Keith.
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The red paladin places his own hand in his, intertwining their fingers. When Keith lifts his gaze, he’s met with a sweet but slightly tense smile.
“Since we’re dating now, I guess, let’s keep up the charade, shall we?”
Whatever Keith was expecting from tonight, it was not this. Though he supposes it makes sense to keep a low profile whichever way they can. Besides, this might be the closest he ever gets to being with Lance and he is not going to miss that chance.
"Wanna dance?"