The Best Klance Fanfictions

Twelve Feet Deep

“I’m not scared, I’m practical.” He’s scowling into the rough wood of the tree, pretending it’s Keith stupid face. “If I get gravely injured, how will we all form Voltron? I’m such an essential and handsome part of the team, and I keep up the good spirits! I’m just trying to look out for everybody!”

“If you were ‘gravely injured,’ we would just stick you in a healing pod for a few—“

“And,” he plows on, taking deep satisfaction in the audible click of Keith’s teeth snapping shut. “I didn’t have any choice in calling you. You’re the only other one on the planet, and as much as I’d love to be rescued by Allura and carried off into the sunset, I was trying to remain realistic. It was a necessary sacrifice. I have to piss.”

“Of course you do.” Keith sounds irked that Lance interrupted him, but it seems as though his good cheer from finding Lance stuck in a tree dulled the edge of his anger. Pouting, Lance shifted uncomfortably around the branch. That kind of ruined the fun. “We fly in space, Lance. We are constantly thousands of miles above the ground, and you’re afraid of heights?”

“God, shut up, mullet-head! Don’t you have a puddle to drown in or something?”

“Not being able to swim is not the same thing at all!” Lance can’t help the way his mouth turns up at the corners at how Keith’s indignant voice cracks. Serves him right.

“You know…” Keith says, and Lance immediately frowns. He doesn’t like that contemplative tone at all. “I could just leave you here.”

Eyes widening, Lance almost loses his balance in his instinctive rush to reach for Keith, despite him being miles away. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m sorry.” Lance risks a glance down below to see Keith cupping a hand to his ear. “What was that? I can’t hear you from all the way up there.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’m taller than you, shortcake.” He slaps a hand over his mouth. “Wait, no! Shit! Keith, get me down from here!”

“Bye, Lance.” Horrified, Lance is forced to watch as Keith turns his back on him and actually walks away. He even manages a hand wave without looking back. Bastard.

“Keith!” he shrieks, dignity out of the window, the planet, the entire whole of space. Futilely kicking his legs in the air, Lance scrambles aimlessly against the tree in an effort to do anything at all, and still somehow fails. “Keith! When I make it out of this tree, you’re dead!”

He might be imagining it, but he thinks he hears a cackle.

--

There’s another food fight. Honestly? It’s practically part of their training at this point. Coran will sludge up something disgusting, and they’ll find that the food is far more useful as a weapon than anything remotely edible.

They break up into teams without much thought: Pidge and Hunk VS. Lance and Keith VS. Shiro and Allura. Coran referees.

Lance pops his head over the table briefly, trying to catch a glimpse of the others’ tactical setup, but he feels a hand grip the back of his neck roughly and pull him back down. Goo splatters unappetizingly on the wall behind him.

“Hey!” He frowns, glaring at Keith. “I could have avoided that.”

Keith just rolls his eyes at him. “I wasn’t willing to take that chance.” The hand is still there, right at the edge of his hairline, so Lance shrugs him off.

“You’re the worst,” he says, just to appease himself. “We need a plan.” Hearing the squishing sounds of the other teams’ food-weapons a few yards away is starting to make him nervous.