The great pine forests of East Texas have been, for the most part, miraculously spared of Empire destruction. The American Southwest was largely destroyed, along with countless other hugely important geographic landmarks on Earth, but East Texas — and all the memory it holds — seems to have fared just fine.
They will rebuild, anyways.
His son straightens immediately at Keith’s gentle beckoning and toddles over, climbing on top of his bent knee. He smiles softly, placing a balancing hand on his back — his palm spans the entirety of the kid’s back, holy shit, he’s so tiny, how was Keith ever placed in charge of something so tiny — and uses the other to point at a brown smudge high up in a Loblolly. Cory squints. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith sees Lance press his hands to his face and muffle a scream. Goober.
“That’s a red-tailed hawk,” he murmurs. “That’s the bird you hear in movies.”
Cory hums in understanding, although he probably doesn’t. They don’t watch a lot of movies. Keith once read about how detrimental screens are for developing children in one of Shiro’s many parenting books, so they don’t watch a lot of T.V. (Back when Cory wasn’t even with them yet, and Keith was panicking nightly. Lance had to fish all their devices from the garbage. It was a time.)
“Caw,” says Cory sagely. Keith snorts.
“Yes, buddy. Caw. If you sit real still, the bird might even move.” He hears the echo of his father’s voice, decades old, in the back of his mind; a memory, frayed at the edges, of Keith in this very forest, held in the same way he’s holding his own son, listening his Pa quietly name all the birds and rocks and trees. Hanging on his every word, even though he didn’t get it all. The smell of the pine trees, the rumble of Pa’s low voice. He swallows the lump in his throat, brushing a kiss into Cory’s hair. “That’d be cool, huh?”
Cory babbles something Keith can’t understand. A sticky hand comes up to pat Keith on the cheek, making him smile despite the sting of his eyes. “Daddy, caw. Birdie! Caw.”
Keith turns his head to press a kiss to Cory’s palm. He giggles. Keith wiggles his eyebrows, blowing a raspberry, just to make him laugh harder. The pain in his chest begins to loosen, ever so slightly.
He catches Lance’s gaze over Cory’s head, and takes the time to memorize his dark eyes all over again. Lance lets him. He always does, even though it makes him blush and fidget, lets Keith trace his thumb along his lash line and study the flecks of Earth brown and ash black in his eyes, of sun gold and deep amber; he likes Keith’s attention on him as much as he refuses to admit it.
That’s Lance, though. Tries with every inch of him to be cool and mysterious and suave and can’t manage to save his life. His twitchy enthusiasm sparks in everything he touches, no matter how hard he tries.
When he started digging through Keith’s collection of atlases and running around the house with stacks of blankets and sleeping bags and camping supplies, Keith had said, “Planning something, sweetheart?” and Lance had stuck out his tongue and responded, “Blah blah, nosy.” But Shiro had texted him to let him know that Lance had asked for Keith’s old photos, and one day Keith caught him with a bulletin board and dozens of pins of pictures of pine trees and booking receipts and dorky sticky notes until Lance screeched and kicked him out.
Lance is bad at secrets. And he is a dorky and kind weeper who loves to do anything but mind his own business and muddle things up.
And Keith knew that all when he married him, and loved him for it then, too.
“Hey, mijo,” Lance suggests, “how would you like to sit on daddy’s shoulders so you can see the birdies better?”
Cory gasps, looking rapidly between his parents. He bounces excitedly in Keith’s lap, attempting his own cawing noises, pointing up at the nest.
Keith smiles wider, quickly swiping under his eyes before straightening. He shifts his hold on Cory and winks at his husband, who rolls his eyes in fond understanding, and then his tilts the boy back until he’s giggling, leaning in close until their noses are brushing.
“Munchkin,” he says, playfully nipping the tip of his nose, “you know how you can get even closer to the birds?”
Cory gasps. “How, Daddy, how?”
Lance chuckles. When Keith glances over at him, his smile is so wide it forces his eyes near shut. Keith’s chest aches, it aches so good, and the little Keith that lives in his chest holding himself tightly and swallowing past the perpetual lump in his throat is soothed and comforted and held lovingly. Something cracks and heals in his heart.
“Like this!” Keith shouts through all the emotions bubbling up all over him, and tosses his son in the air, careful not to go too high out of his reach.
Cory shrieks with laughter, tiny fingers scrabbling for purchase on Keith’s jacket on his way down. Keith hardly lets him settle before he’s tossing him up again, higher this time, laughter louder and squealing. The bird has long since flown away, disturbed by the sound, and probably every other animal within a thirty foot radius. But Keith can’t bring himself to care. The bugs can’t move far, and no doubt Cory will want to dig around for worms with his Papa like always. (Keith knows for a fact that Lance has three spades in his backpack and several see-through containers.)
For now, he has time to toss his son in the air. He has time to lean into the hand his husband slides into his back pocket. He has time to smell the pine trees, to think of his father, to feel the bounce of packed Earth under his feet.
To the tiny him that lives buried in his chest, he whispers, we made it, ace.
My dad and 5-year-old brother are jamming tf out to a bunch of Spanish songs and I’m laying on the couch singing along watching them dance, and out of the corner of my eye I can just see my stepmom in the kitchen shaking her head slowly with a loVESTRUCK GAZE. My dad called her over a bit ago and started quizzing her on spanish words present in the song asking if she knew what they were in English. She wrinkled her nose and gave an awkward shrug to symbolize she didnt know.
He then looked at me and asked the same questions, which I answered correctly and pointed at me saying “Yup- That’s my child.” Then looked at my step mom with disappointment “I expected more”
I just imagined my family here to be Klance. Lance being my dad, Keith being stepmom, and my bro and I being their love children.
Dad just gave me control of the music. He thought I was gonna put on regular pop music but I actually played Gasolina and they all yelled “AYY” as a cheer of surprise and started dancing tf out. I love my family-
Sorry if this is mess- iM JAMMING RN.
EDIT:
Im sobbing of laughter- My dad is drunk and jamming to a v v v old spanish song and he suddenly turns to me and speaks in a serious tone, “Listen, Bianca, when you get a partner and they decide they want to propose to you- They better sing this song... *TO ME.*” And continues to sing along. My stepmom turns to me and we both started cry laughing because we did not expect that.
If that isnt Lance as a father then I dont know what is.
Edit 2:
Now they’re slow dancing to a song while my father sings to my stepmother. I CANT. ALL I CAN IMAGINE IS KLANCE- ISJDKSMEMDL. Too cute smh. She looks so happy.
Edit 3:
Now my dad and lil bro are sword fighting in the middle of the room while screeching Despacito 👍
Keith gripped the handle of Blue’s harness as he and Pike rushed into the cool daycare center, content to have some relief from the hot, summer sun. Taking off Blue’s harness, he hung it up in the office. Glancing around, Keith smiled as he directed Pike to the main area. Keith loved his job. He felt as if he had a purpose in life knowing that he was helping not only the parents, but also a group of very special children who sometimes just needed to know that they were loved. He wouldn’t give it up for the world, but there were also times where he hated it, times where he went home more exhausted than ever, times where Lance had to talk him out of quiting. This was one of those moments.
Children ran around the toy crowded room, weaving in and out of the herd of hurrying adults. As parents began to drop off the kids for Keith’s disabled class, Keith directed Pike to take Blue back to the separate classroom, reminding him to remove his shoes before he entered the pillow-padded room.. Keith turned slightly to his left in order to keep Pike in his line of sight just as a parent carried in a grumbling toddler. The dark skinned girl was patting at the woman’s shoulder as she grumbled and grunted. The woman who carried her looked exhausted and at her wits end. She approached Keith with fast, long strides. She huffed a piece of hair out of her face as she basically shoved a bag into his arm. Keith turned to face her fully with a tight lipped smile. The toddler tapped her shoulder at a faster pace. The woman groaned and turned back to the child.
“I can’t get you anything unless you tell me what you want.” The woman grunted out as she shifted the girl further up her hip.. Her statement only seemed to make the toddler more distressed, her grunting became louder as she started to shake her head and hands. The woman sighed heavily as she looked at Keith fully. She pulled her lip up as her well trimmed eyebrow met her hair line. “Here. This is Branda. I signed her up yesterday and the man said you could handle ‘special’ kids.” The woman passed the toddler over, with great care to not actually touch Keith. She looked him over again. “Are you sure you’re capable of taking care of children like her?” The woman asked with disbelief dripping from her voice. Keith struggled to keep up his smile as he took Branda into his embrace with delicate hands.
“Yes. I have a bachelor's in Special Education for mild to extreme disorders.”
With Branda now on his hip, he could see that she had small spots of discoloration around her eyes, hands, and across her arms and legs. Her fluffy, black hair, which was frizzy and standing straight up being brushed, had small patches of white. When Branda looked up at him, as the woman hummed at his statement. “Well, anyway, We’ve had her for about a week and she’s just about to drive me insane.” The woman waved her hand side to side. “I know she can speak, but all she does is cry. She never tells us what she wants, so have fun with that. We really are not fans of daycares, but I just don’t have the time to deal with her and I really need to get back to work. I have kids of my own to worry about as well.” The woman ran her hand through her hair as she turned to leave, waving goodbye over her shoulder. As she walked away, Keith heard her mumble to herself. “We should have told them to find her another foster family.” Keith’s heart stop and his eyes grew hot as he looked down at the poor little girl in his arms. Biting his tongue, he turned sharply and stomped to his room.
“Stupid foster parents,” he mumbled under his breath.
Branda tapped his shoulder along to the beat of his feet.
Taking their shoes off, Keith sat her down in the room. Kneeling on his knees, Keith smiled at the girl. “Would you like a snack?” He asked gently, his voice soft and caring. Branda met his gaze as she started to pat her hands on her legs.
“Snack, snack, snack, snack, snack.” She repeated over and over as the patting on her leg grew faster. Worry created heavy lines on Keith’s forehead as he picked her up and took her to a table. He sat her on one of the pillows before going to get her some of the puff cereal..
After he had given Branda something to eat and checking on the other kids, Keith slipped out of the room to find Coran. Going to the main daycare room, he slowly scanned the room before he caught a glimpse of orange hair bobbing above the bouncing children. Slipping through the crowd, he grabbed a hold of Coran and pulled him into the office.
“I need to ask you about the new girl in my class.” His voice was low because there were still parents wondering about.
“Oh, yes. I forgot to inform you. Sweet Branda is an orphan who was just placed in a foster home near here. She surely is a special little dear. She is the sweetest little thing despite the rough life she has already had. She is really smart, but she cannot speak very well, and therefore gets frustrated with herself. If I recall correctly, her condition is called hyperlexia.” Keith nodded as he looked back to the room. Sadness and anger flickered across his face as he remembered the foster mom and her poor treatment of Branda, disability or not. Coran reached out and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, startling him just a little. “It would seem that you have met the foster mother, correct?” Keith answered Coran with a flat, emotionless face. “Oh, yes! That despicable woman. If it wasn’t for the sweet toddler, I would of kicked her out the moment she opened her mouth.” Coran paused before sighing, meeting Keith’s eyes before continuing. “I am sorry if she brought up any painful memories.”
“It’s alright, Coran. Branda is worth it, I think.” Keith sighed as he turned back to his room. Coran patted his back and shot him a smile before returning to his section.
When Keith entered the room, Pike had corralled Blue into the small library section and was reading a small book while laying on her. Keith laughed softly before he noticed a little puff of black hair poking out from the other side of Blue. Curious, Keith padded over to them and looked over Blue. There laying on the opposite of side of Pike, was Branda. She had a book larger than Pike’s in her lap. Yet as Keith watched, he noticed that the girl was not just looking at the pictures. She was actually reading it! Her little brown eyes scanned over every word as her fingers trailed over the sentences.. Keith continued to watch her progress through the book until he felt a tug on his pants. Glancing down, he saw that Pike was looking up at him.
‘What is it?’ He signed.
‘Smart.’ Pike answered, pointed at Branda. Keith nodded as he ruffled Pike’s hair before going to the bookshelf and grabbing one of the many textbooks he filled the room with. Flipping through the pages, he finally found the section over hyperlexia.
After Coran dropped off the last child for Keith’s class, his day was filled with giving out snacks, picking up the mess from the snacks, breaking up little fights over toys, picking up toys, calming tantrums, leading basic school lessons, and laying down with the children for a quick nap. At the end of the day, Keith helped the children gather up all of their belongings and put their shoes back on. Herding them together, Keith lead them out to the main room in order to find their parents. With quick hugs, he said goodbye to the children for the day. Branda was one of the last kids to be picked up. She and Pike stood on each side of Keith’s legs, holding onto his pants. Pike had his other hand buried into Blue’s fur. Branda was tapping a simple pattern onto her other leg as she repeated words that she would hear from the other kids and parents. Minutes before closing, Branda’s foster mother came into the daycare with two other children trailing behind her. She walked up to Keith and took the diaper bag from him. She stretched her hand out and smiled at Branda.
“Come on, let’s go,” She said in a much happier voice than the one she spoke with in the morning. Branda looked up at Keith before stepping over to the woman. She grinned down at the girl. “Did you have a good day?”
“Good, good, good.” Branda nodded as grabbed onto the woman’s pants. One of the other children, a lanky, blonde boy sighed as he tilted his head back. The other little boy, just as blonde just as thin and lanky, whined.
“Mom! She’s doing it again.”
“Stop it.” She growled out as she tried to smile up at Keith. “Say goodbye, Branda.” She patted Branda’s head as she turned around. Branda whined herself as she waved both of her hands rapidly. Keith and Pike waved back to her as the mother hurried the children out of the daycare, scolding the boys about what is ‘right’ to be said in public. Keith gritted his teeth as he ran his fingers through Pike’s hair. Pike looked up at him.
‘Be right back,’ he signed as he walked into the office to get Blue’s harness.
~~~~~
Keith opened the door and released Blue and Pike into the house. They raced forward, almost knocking Lance over. Lance waved his hands at Pike to get his attention. He simply looked at the four year old and signed ‘no’. Pike nodded as he slowed down, still walking fast to his room. Keith sighed as he walked over to Lance, his head falling forward. Lance rubbed his back as he hummed.
“Long day?” His voice was soft and soothed Keith’s raw nerves. He met Lance’s eyes before leaning up to place a simple kiss on his lips.
“Yeah. Just another rude parent who doesn’t understand the child’s disability. To make it even better, the woman is only the child’s foster mother.” Keith stepped away to flop down onto the couch. Lance followed after him, placing Keith’s head on his lap.
“I’m sorry, babe. I know you didn’t have good experiences with foster parents, so that must had been extra hard for you to deal with.” Lance kissed Keith’s forehead as he started to run his fingers through his hair.
“I left all of that in the past. I’m just lucky that I finally found a good family.” Keith sighed as he sunk further into the soft couch and Lance’s soft touch. Lance hummed a soft tune as Keith felt his stress melt away. He was lucky to have finally found Shiro and his family. Most kids don’t get that chance, especially not ones with disabilities. Hell, even Pike wasn’t lucky enough to be born to two parents that loved him even with his disability. Yet, he was pretty lucky to have a dad as loving and understanding as Lance. Lance never let Pike’s deafness stop him from loving his son or trying to give him the best life possible. Keith just hoped that Branda would find at least one parent who loved her like Lance loved Pike.
Keith suddenly sat up, almost headbutting Lance in the process.
“What? What’s wrong?” He looked around before meeting Keith’s gaze.
“I want to have another baby.” Keith spoke fast and without thinking. Lance blinked at him with his mouth opening and closing. “Well, not any baby. One specific baby. Branda. She is so sweet, and smart, and cute. She has frizzy black hair and smooth, dark skin, which is speckled with spots of white. She gets along with Pike really well, and loves Blue. She’s just so great, Lance, and she deserves a better home than that devil woman can give her. I just want her to have the best life possible and we can give her that. I know it’s a lot to ask you to take on another kid with a disability, but she is-” Keith babbled on and on. Lance smiled as his brain finally caught up with what Keith was trying to say. Leaning forward, Lance cut Keith off with a long, soft kiss. Pulling away, he ran his hand across Keith’s cheek into his hair.
“Come on.” He nudged Keith’s head off of his lap.
“Where are we going?” Keith asked as he sat up. Sliding off of the couch, Lance picked Keith up, causing him to let out a rather high pitched screech,
“Let’s go make a baby, huh?” Lance winked. Keith gasped and went bright red.
“Lance!” He screamed as he started to kick his leg, Lance laughing as he twirled them around.
Next part of my “Homes Don’t Have to Be Perfect” Klance family AU.
From now on, I will be posting short one shot moments of the Klance Family’s life. They will be posted singularly on here, but will be posted as chapters to one story on my AO3.
I will also be accepting request for any moments you all would like to see from the Klance Family. Message me or comment your request and I will do the best that I can to write it out :)
