Of Dropouts And Dogs (Klance Fanfiction)

Chapter Three: Blue Eyes

-----Two Weeks Later----

There are many things Keith hates about mornings; waking up, the crud on the edges of his eyes, the shitty feeling of drowsiness. To top it all off he woke up exponentially late as warm air tousled his already messy bed head from the night before, tickling his nose.

A very strong draft was carrying briskly across the room, alerting the Korean male awake with a loud start. Dry leaves littered the concrete floor of his bedroom like a blanket, a bird who was nestled deep within a corner shooting off with a screech and flapping wings.

Now Keith wasn't exactly the brightest person but he was pretty sure that was not how a room was supposed to look, especially the dripping bird shit on his bare wall. A look of disgust crossed the man's face as he eyed the white discolored liquid drip onto the floor, creating a small puddle of utter gross.

"What the hell-" Keith began, eyes scanning the oddly bright and warm room, finally resting on the small window at his feet. It was open. Fuck. Adrenaline pumped through the owner's veins as he quite literally ripped the covers from his body, feet hitting the ground in a reverberating thump.

If anyone happened to witness the 19 year old half nude male squirming out a small window of his home, they didn't say anything. The scratchy feeling of grass sliced at Keith's bare stomach as he struggled out, standing up with a huff once successfully completed. Impulsive decisions seemed to be the man's specialty, calling out quite loudly for his dog in nothing but his black boxers, probably alerting everyone's attention within hearing distance.

If Keith had a mother she would probably flip her shit by now, telling the dipshit to get back inside before he embarrassed her. Well, Shiro was like a mother and father rolled into one, but he wasn't here as of the moment.

"Voltron!" Keith yelled, his fringe of hair falling loosely over his eyes, arms falling limp once not a bark nor panting face greeted the helpless calls. The brisk breeze was beginning to make the male uncomfortable, shifting slightly as air blew in places it really shouldn't be in a public environment. Before the saddened owner could give up, a series of loud yelling and barking occurred from nearby, causing the pale man to whip around.

Across the street was a male about his age, blue eyes flaring with rage and tanned arms flailing about, a string of Spanish curses flowing fluently from his lips. "Perro muy malo!!" The man yelled, quickly reaching down and picking up something white and very fluffy, a bag or pillow perhaps?. However, what caught Keith's attention most was the topic of the yelling, his blue eyed Husky cowering beneath the Cuban male's hard gaze.

Anger flared up his aching spine as a low growl seethed from between his gritted teeth, "What the fuck are you doing yelling at my dog??". Ocean blue eyes suddenly widened to the size of saucers, head swiveling in a flurry of brown hair and offended scoffing. "Excuse me asshole, but your mutt was harassing my baby!" The Cuban fired back, shifting the ball of fluff in his arms in order to cradle it easier.

Another spiel of comebacks stung on the Korean man's tongue as he quickly stepped between his dog and the jackass before him, "the only baby I see here is you, dickface". Before a fist could be thrown by none other than the hothead ravenette, a meow cut him short, Violet eyes switching to look at the bundle in the offender's arms. Two big yellow eyes were suddenly staring up at him lazily, tiny pink nose twitching in judgement along with a flicking tale, squished in face holding nothing but pure nonchalance.

"What the fuck is that!?" Keith nearly screeched, jumping backwards quickly as his heel made contact with what he hoped was a rock. His suspicions were proven wrong when Volton gave a loud yelp and jerked away, tail tucked between his legs as he cowered away. A series of confused emotions splayed across the tanned male's face, finally resting on disbelief, "she's a cat you fucktard". The insult merely fanned the flames of Keith's rage, making the pale man strut forward, having to look up slightly due to height difference once they were almost chest to chest.