Voltron One-Shots

Through the Wall | Klance |

Slight Trigger Warning

Keith didn't know his neighbors very well. Often times, he never even saw them. He mainly stayed in his room, working on some YouTube video or art commission. All he knew about his neighbor was that he could be a complete asshole sometimes.

However, he didn't think he'd have to comfort his neighbor.

Keith was up late again, drawing tablet on his desk propped up as he worked. He had instrumental music playing quietly, helping him focus on the commission.

A sob broke through the peaceful air, and Keith froze for a moment. He paused his music, listening. He could hear more sobbing, though much quieter. It was coming from the right wall, where his bed was. And it was the wall that separated him from his neighbor.

Keith hesitantly walked over, sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall. The cries were clearer now, and Keith could hear the other man talking to himself.

"Useless..."
"Idiot.."
"Asshole..."
"Annoying.."
"Clingy."

With each degrading word, Keith could hear a quiet hiss and a choked sob. Something in his gut told him that whatever was going on, it was bad. Unsure of what to do, he knocked on the wall gently.

Everything silenced. There was no noise for a long moment from either of them.

"What's wrong?" Keith finally inquired, leaning his head on the wall. He could hear the other man begin to cry again, but also heard him shuffling to get closer to the wall.

"Everything...." The man gloomily replied. Keith frowned, inhaling slowly.

"Can you be more specific?"

"People..." The man trailed off for a moment, coughing between his quiet sobs. "Just people in general..." He added.

"I can understand that." Keith stated simply. He sighed softly. "Do people say those things to you?" He inquired, voice gentle.

The man sniffled softly. "Ye...Yeah."

"Do you know who they were?" Keith genuinely wanted to know. He wanted to pay these people a little visit. He knew just how much words can actually hurt; more so than physical harm can sometimes.

A quiet hum in a negative tone told Keith he didn't.

"Damn... I would have loved to get them back for hurting you." Keith muttered. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" Keith asked. He wanted to try and help this poor guy as much as he could.

No reply came for a few moments. Then, "Can... Can you come over..?" He questioned. Keith exhaled slowly before answering.

"Sure."

Keith didn't take long to walk to the next door apartment. He knocked softly, and a minute later, a Cuban man with brown hair opened the door. His eyes were puffy from crying, tear tracks still along his cheeks.

"I'm Lance, by the way.." Lance welcomed Keith in, rubbing at his already irritated eyes. He closed the door behind Keith, turning back to face him.

"Keith," he said, approaching Lance. Keith, hesitantly, opened his arms. Lance walked closer, accepting the embrace. Keith rubbed Lance's back slowly with one hand, the other going to Lance's hair and combing his fingers through the brown locks.

Lance rested his head on Keith's shoulder, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of Keith's clothes. He really needed company right now. It prevented him from going further with his blade.

Somehow, the two ended up on the couch. The tv was on, and they were watching Coco. Lance felt relaxed, and Keith didn't care that his arm was falling asleep. He was just glad that Lance was no longer crying.

This event created a chain, every other day one of the two going to the other's apartment.