- Langst One-Shots

- Shooting stars.

[Gang AU? 😳]
[TW: Self-Harm, Abuse/ Sexual assault]
[Klance]
—

Lance grunted as he was tossed into a dingy old room. He whimpered, frantically checking around the room before curling into himself sobbing silently. He wasn't sure what had happened— one moment he was getting jumped in an alleyway, fighting against some sicko, and the next that same man was dead in his arms followed by an unnerving echo of blood splattered across his favorite blue sweater. A man stared him up and down before grabbing his arm and forcing him into a vehicle. Lance didn't oblige, he was both in shock and the man had a gun, who was he to say no?

It was about an hour later— which felt like an eternity to Lance— when someone walked in the room. "Let's go." Lance wiped his tears and scrambled to his feet, following the armed man to some sort of small office. There was a man sitting at the desk looking at a plethora of papers. A cigarette was lit in his hands, causing Lance to let out an involuntary cough at the fumes. The man looked up with a dull expression. He took one last drag from his cancer stick before putting it out and swatting out the smoke.

"Out." He ordered simply. The man who had brought Lance here nodded and left the room, leaving Lance alone. The man stared at him. Cold gray eyes, jet black hair that thinned at the base of his neck then flirted out beyond it. A mullet? Seriously, did this guy think they were still in the 20th century? Lance would've made fun of him had he not been scared shitless.

"So," the man started, standing up from his chair and walking towards Lance agonizingly slow. "What were you doing outside so late in the first place, Loverboy?" Lance stiffened at the nickname, furrowing his brows in response. "I was at the club..?" His voice was meek and fumbling over itself. It wasn't like him at all. The man hummed in response.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Lance." His voice was nearly inaudible. He watched as the man circled around him like a shark, looking him up and down. His outfit consisted of tight black jeans. The sides were cut out, only held together by crossed strings. He also (of course) sported a navy blue silk turtleneck blouse. His outfit was topped off with a pair of simple converse sneakers. Simply because well, he was lazy, and refused to wear heels.

"Aren't you going to ask me for my name?" The man fake pouted and watched as Lance's face dropped momentarily. He bursted out into laughter. "I'm just kidding with you. But the name is Keith." Lance's face heated up.

—

For whatever reason, Lance had ended up being kept in the facility. Within the two months he's been here, he couldn't admit he'd learned much. All he knew was Keith and his brother, Shiro, were the leaders of this gang. Fortunately though, Lance was given a nicer bedroom, a queen-sized bed with silk sheets, a TV that took up a majority of the wall, a bathroom built into the side, and even a kitchen on the opposing side of the room. Okay, so maybe it was more of an apartment. Lance wasn't allowed to leave— the door was locked and remained so unless Keith had come to check up on him or requested his presence. He even had a laundry shoot— which also doubled as a grocery delivery shoot.

Lance and Keith had hung out quite a bit, and although Lance wouldn't admit to it, he had developed some sort of feelings for the mullet-wearing man. Of course Keith wouldn't return them, he was a gang leader for crying out loud. But no matter how hard Lance had tried he couldn't get the thought of him out of his head.

—

"Lance I have something to tell you." Lance turned to look at Keith. The two of them had been sitting on the roof of the warehouse, watching the sunset fade away for the night as stars decorated the blooming night sky. "I think.. I think I like you." He turned back to Lance, locking eyes with the other. "I think I like you too." Lance's eyes seemed to glow in the night. Keith couldn't help but lean over. He pushed Lance's hair from his face, cupping his cheek before kissing him. Lance kissed back instantaneously.

[minor nsfw warning.
No smut, just steamy making out.]

Their simple kiss quickly turned from that to a heated make-out session. Neither was sure how but Keith had managed to shimmy his way on top of Lance, pinning him down as their tongues fought. Keith chuckled at Lance's attempt. He won the battle for dominance quickly, exploring Lance's mouth between every pant. When he finally backed away he took his lips to Lance's neck, sucking gently enough to leave a mark. Lance bit down on his lip, squirming in embarrassment and Keith repeated the process, leaving red and purple splotches all over his neck and collarbone.

[okay it's over now rip]

Keith and Lance had made their way back to Keith's penthouse. He told Lance he'd stay with him from now on because he wanted to keep him safe. Lance was laid down in Keith's king-sized bed as he promised to come back with clothes. Lance sat in the bed, looking down at his simple high waisted jeans and sweater. His stomach churned suddenly at the thought of Keith seeing so much of his skin, how vulnerable he really was.

Keith opened the door with a pair of clothes for the other. A T-shirt of his that was clearly way too big for Lance, and a pair of sports shorts which, unfortunately— were extremely short. Lance walked to the bathroom to get changed, staring at his legs and arms in the mirror. He hugged himself, wiping the tears from his eyes and pulling the shirt down as much as possible before he opened the door and re-entered. Keith looked up from his phone to see Lance climbing into bed.

His eyes caught a glimpse of a strangely placed scar, and curiosity took over. "What's that?" He asked. "The scar on your leg I mean." Keith locked eyes with Lance and the other quickly looked away. "What? You must be seeing stuff, Mullet." Keith raises an eyebrow playfully. He jumped on top of Lance, pinning his arms down with a smirk. "Oh really?" He used his knee to pull the sheets off and the shirt up. His face dropped instantly.

Dozens of white scars stared back at him on each leg. He looked back up at Lance who had a terrified look on his face. Keith removed his hands looking down at the matching scars on Lance's wrists. His mouth hung open and Lance took this as an opportunity to push him off and run out the door.

"Lance, wait!" Keith chased the other down, yet once he got to the overly secured front door, he was at a severe disadvantage, and Keith's arms wrapped around his waist. He thrashed around in the other's arms who simply dragged him to the couch and held him in his arms until he calmed. Once he ran out of energy he shook violently from his tears. Lance shifted to cry into Keith's chest.

It was nearly half an hour later when Lance had calmed completely aside from a sniffle every now and then and timid shaking. Keith rubbed soothing circles into his back. He sighed. "Lance.." Lance's body jolted as he tried to pull away, but Keith gripped him tightly. "No, you aren't running away again." He frowned as Lance whimpered. "Please just tell me why."

Lance calmed, biting his lip gently before talking. "I-it's nothing I just— when I was younger, back in high school, I got bullied. A lot... I stopped for a while until my Mama— she died. My family kinda started falling apart after that and I had kinda ditched all my friends so I had no one." Keith pulled him back to wipe the tears from his eyes. Lance sat straddling the other, holding one arm in the other. "I'm fine now though.. I've been clean for— well, e-ever since I met you, actually." He looked at Keith and smiled. "Can't believe a mullet saved me." He chuckled softly, and Keith grinned.

"Well, maybe Mullets should still be in fashion then." He grinned, smiling at Lance's laugh. "You're so stupid." He leaned into Keith's chest. "Whatever Loverboy. Let's go to bed."

—
I would brag about 3 uploads in a day, but really I've mostly just been finishing off old fics wheeze. Thinking of a super angsty part 2 for this fic, but I dunno. :3 anywho, tysm for readingggg 💞💞💞 ily guys smm I hope u have a great day !!