The Best Klance Fanfictions

Mixing Red and Blue

by eyesonchoi

AO3 found

Lance and Keith were neighbors, and most notable, friends. They had a simple routine: Get out of their apartments at the same time, go to the café that Lance's friend Pidge worked at, people-watched while sipping their drinks, and then they went their separate ways to go to class or to their part-time jobs. It was simple, an everyday thing that they've been doing for months on end.

Until Keith stopped showing up three days in a row. Lance tried texting-there was no luck there.

Despite knowing only the basics of him, Lance enjoyed what they had in the morning, maybe even looked forward to it, even though they bickered and fought a lot; they were opposites. Keith despised Ariana Grande's music and Lance would have Pidge change the generic lounge music to play some of Ariana's greatest hits-just to spite him. Keith would complain and Lance would roll his eyes and nod his head to the beat as he drank his iced coffee.

It was Saturday morning and Lance walked out of his apartment and said goodbye to his sleepy roommate, Hunk. But as soon as he left he realized that he was going to be alone... again. It made his side feel cold when he looked at the closed apartment door in the hallway with the number 42-it was Keith's.

Lance had a measly plan just then and left to the café; he ordered one iced coffee and a cup of earl grey tea.

"Hey, where are you going with that? To Keith?" Pidge questioned as Lance was about to leave.

"Yeah! I haven't heard from him in some time so maybe if I bring café to him he'll see that he's missing out." Lance grinned.

"Tell him I miss him, even if he is a furry!" She said, walking into the kitchen. Lance snickered and left for the apartment complex.

After a few knocks, you'd think someone would open the door. Keith certainly wasn't that someone. Maybe he's dead. Lance thought. Great, I bought tea for a ghost.

"Um, Keith? If you're there it's me, Lance. You haven't left your room in a while and I was just wondering if things are okay? I have tea! It's your favorite-I think. But if you could open the door before I burn my fingers, that'd be-"

The door swung open and the person who opened it was a sad sight to see.

It was Keith. His eyes were puffy and red as if he were crying for countless hours, his mullet was now a lion's mane and stuck out at odd places. He was wearing a t-shirt so big that it fit him like a dress with a band name etched in the center that was so ragged and worn that Lance couldn't make out the words.

"Keith..." Lance tried to say something, but nothing came out. He's been like this for three days?

"I know. It's bad but I'm trying." Keith said, it was barely a whisper and sounded anything but Keith's actual voice. It was broken and defeated, as if he got a sore throat after yelling for a while.

"Let me in."

Keith opened the door wider and let Lance inside. The studio wasn't as messy as Lance thought it would be. The apartment was one big space, the only door being to leave or to go to the bathroom. His bed was unkempt and the kitchen had empty pizza boxes lying on the counters and an opened box of cereal had spilled frosted corn flakes onto the floor. The television was on some discovery channel but it was muted and art history books cluttered the coffee table.

Lance sat on the couch and placed his coffee down on top of a lame looking book. Keith slowly followed, rubbing his eyes of any possible tears.

"Here, drink this. It'll help." He gave him the tea.