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English
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Published:
2016-12-26
Updated:
2016-12-26
Words:
1,867
Chapters:
1/?
Comments:
6
Kudos:
98
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Witches get Stitches

Summary:

Lance is walking home in the rain when he gets mugged by a cat with a bad attitude.

Klance Secret Santa 2016

Notes:

Okay so this is for [email protected] for the Klance Secret Santa. Honestly have no clue how to write witchcraft AUs so I'm so sorry if I butchered it. I planned it for a oneshot but I was already like at 2k and decided to just make it a chaptered fic, which is terrible considering all the other unfinished chaptered fics I have. Anyways, please enjoy this sloppily written fic.

Also I suck at title so soz

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

When Lance exits the convenience store, it’s pouring rain. Of course, it was clear skies when he had left his apartment so it didn’t even cross his mind to bring an umbrella. Cursing under his breath, he pulls his jacket up over his head and runs.

 

It’s over 10 blocks to his place, and the rain is just far too heavy for that kind of walk. Feet damp from splashing along puddles, Lance veers left into an alley, thanking the gods for the looming buildings that halted the rain overhead as he moved through the darkness.

 

“Creepy alleyway in the rain, sounds very Batman if you ask me,” Lance mutters to himself, slowing his pace as he walks through the alley. Murky puddles have formed around the deep cracks in the cement, and Lance takes time to sidestep each of them. He wasn’t entirely superstitious, but he shouldn’t risk if you can avoid it.

 

“Really glad I’m not with Hunk right now, he’d have a fit if he knew I was in this super creepy alleyway. I mean, it’s not like murderers make it a habit of just hanging around dark places until a hot young man appears.” Lance chuckles to himself. He can see the exit onto his street, and he’s about to pick up his pace when he hears a voice behind him.

 

“Do you make it a habit of talking to yourself alone in the dark?”

 

Lance nearly jumps out of his skin, turning around quickly to face the empty street he just traveled. Gooseflesh sprinkles his skin, prickling at his arms and the back of his neck.

 

“W-who’s there?” Lance calls out, before chastising himself internally. Good one, Sanchez. Never met a polite mugger who’d actually answer.

 

The street’s empty, not even a shadow left out of place to indicate anyone else is there. Lance can feel his legs moving, backing up slowly. He doesn’t want to turn around and make a run for it, just in case someone’s actually there and wielding a knife.

 

“Yo if you’re looking for money, I’m fresh out. You know, I got that whole ‘broke college graduate’ thing going for me and all,” Lance calls out, yielding only his own echo. He’s about ready to pass of the voice as a delusion and run for the hills when the voice speaks up again.

 

“Very funny, but I don’t really have a use for money right now. I could use your help though,” the voice says, and finally there’s movement in the corner of his eye. A shadow appears, large and looming beneath a garbage can. Lance holds his breath, watching as the shadow grows closer and makes an appearance. Lance exhales.

 

“Ah, a talking cat. Haven’t seen one of those since sophomore year,” Lance looks off put, a sigh escaping his lips. A black cat has stepped out, fluffy black fur matted and damp. Piercing purple eyes stare up at Lance, sharp and searing. If he wasn’t a foot tall and a feline, Lance might’ve been intimidated.

 

“You don’t sound surprised at all. Does this happen to you a lot?” The cat asks, ear flicking.

 

“What, the talking cat part or being approached in an alley part? I mean, Hunk turned himself into a mouse once, but that was only so he could sneak into the mess hall and steal some food. Besides that, no, it’s not exactly part of my daily routine: the alley or the cat part,” Lance answers, and the catcan already feel a headache coming on from his fast words and his constant digressions.

 

“But you have dealt with this before, so you know how to deal with it?” the cat asks, hopeful.

 

“I mean yeah, I had to help Hunk after he ate too much and couldn’t move from the cabinet and all that. But are you actually a talking a cat or a person?” Lance asks, eyeing the cat.

 

“I’m a person, and my name’s Keith,” Keith says; glare growing harsh as he loses his patience. He didn’t want to deal with this whole transformation thing longer than he had to.

 

“So you… turned yourself into a cat?” Lance looks skeptical, plucked eyebrow raised quizzically at the black mass of the fur on the ground.

 

Keith huffs out in exasperation, purple eyes narrowed up at Lance, “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose or anything, I was… look the point is I need your help turning back,”

 

Lance laughs, squatting on the ground so he’s eye level with Keith, “Alright, if you insist, but I’m warning you if you’re not some super hot person I’m gonna be mad,” he says before he closes his eyes, expectant.

 

A moment passes. Keith stares at Lance, who’s still sitting there with his eyes closed, mouth slightly parted and… puckered? “What are you doing, you look like an idiot. And what’s this about being a hot person?” Keith asks, flexing his claws in warning as Lance’s eyes shoot open.

 

“What, I thought this was the part where you kiss the prince person and turn back into a princess!”

 

“Are you some sort of idiot? You’re a wizard, not a prince, and that only works in storybooks. Are you sure you’re even a wizard to begin with?” Keith seems skeptical, eyeing Lance as his cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger.

 

“Of course I’m a wizard! Besides, it was totally a joke, I knew it wasn’t going to work,” Lance huffs, crossing his arms petulantly. A likely story Keith thinks, finding the ends of his mouth twitching up in the semblance of a smirk.

 

“Whatever you say, loose lips. Anyways, you got an actual lab or something? I doubt anyone would like to see you practicing witchcraft in some alleyway,” Keith licks at his paw, proud of his own retort.

 

“Of course I do, I was just kind of caught up in the whole being mugged by a cat thing it wasn’t exactly on the top of my things to do,” Lance stands up, arms reaching down underneath Keith’s belly. He’s surprised at first, yelping in protest as Lance pulls the feline up and cradles him in his arms.

 

“What are you doing?! I’m capable of walking, don’t patronize me!” Keith yowls, claws extending into the material of Lance’s jacket.

 

“Ouch, calm down or I’ll drop you! It’ll be faster if I carry you, unless you like running to catch up,” Lance scowls, loosening his grip so that Keith thinks he might just drop him. Keith understands the logic, but he’s not one to admit defeat. Besides, Lance had scarily long legs.

 

“Whatever, I just hope your house is close by,” Keith mutters, retracting his claws as Lance leaves the alley.

 


 

 

True to belief, Lance doesn’t live too far away. A few blocks down some questionable roads and up three flights of stairs and they’ve arrived. Lance’s place is nothing like Keith’s: far from civilization and run down by the sand and wind. It’s small and a bit worn down, but large streets and chatter surround it. It takes a while of jingling the door to get it open, but the inside is fairly neat. Keith jumps out of Lance’s arm as soon as the door’s open, stalking inside as if he’s the owner. Plants of various sizes line the windowsill, their scientific names written on sticks pointing out from the soil. A television is tucked in the corner adjacent to a small space heater, couches swapped out for their cushions and a pile of blankets. Keith turns to Lance.

 

“You don’t have a couch?” He asks, incredulous.

 

Lance laughs, scratching the back of his neck, “Well I never really got around to buying a new one after… Anyways, it’s not like you need a couch since you’re a cat and all. Just try not to scratch the cushions or anything,” Lance teases, placing his bag down on the floor as he locks the door.

 

“Haha very funny, you do realize I’m not actually a cat right?” Keith moves to the cushion, surprised at its plushness as he circles around and then sits.

 

“You may think I’m an idiot but I’m not the one who turned myself into a cat,” Lance laughs, moving to the kitchen sink to fill up a large watering can.

 

Keith watches as Lance takes the filled watering can and brings it to the window. Cracking open the windows to let in a breeze, Lance carefully sprinkles the water over the herbs and flowers. There are too many of them for the small sill, and Keith notices them chilling on the TV stand and the kitchen counter, leaves firm and green from the care Lance gives them.

 

“Didn’t take you for the type to own plants,” Keith notes, observing as Lance’s lanky body maneuvers around his apartment to water them.

 

“They’re technically not mine. My old roommate used to collect these like crazy. They were always out though and they’d get sooo mad when they came home and these little guys were wilting,” Lance explains, the watering can now empty and sitting in the sink. Lance is leaning against the counter, talking with eyes lowered.

 

“So is your roommate out of town now or something? I don’t know how you’d explain away a talking cat and all,”

 

Lance doesn’t raise his eyes, but he does crack a small smile. “No, my friend, Pidge, they disappeared a while ago. Their brother’s been missing for a few years, hiking accident or something, and Pidge had always been kinda hung up about it. Apparently they found some kinda clue about where he could be now and just up and left. I just don’t want them coming back and all their plants are dead, y’know?” Lance laughs, fiddling with his fingers. He looks a little embarrassed, laughing to himself as if the whole ordeal was a joke.

 

“That’s… really nice of you,” Keith says, standing up and moving towards Lance, “I’m sure they’re lucky to have someone like you around,” Keith says, feeling a seed of pity growing in his chest. He’s not used to it, so he finds himself halting in his tracks. To pull himself away from his thoughts, he shakes out his fur, surprised at how much water springs forth.

 

“Hey, hey, easy there! You’re gonna drench my house,” Lance protests, pulling away his own damp shirt from his body. “No offense, but you seriously smell like you’ve been fermenting in that alley for a week,” Lance wrinkles his nose.

 

“It’s not like I can take a shower like this,” Keith scowls, sitting down and scratching at his side.

 

Lance looks determined at that, eyes narrowing as he leaves the room. Suspicious about his intentions, Keith follows him out of the room and through an ajar door. Lance is in the bathroom, pulling down the drain to the sink and turning the faucet on, occasionally testing the water and adjusting the temperature. Keith doesn’t like the looks of this.

 

“What are you doing?” Keith asks, suspicious and dreading the answer.

 

“I’m gonna give you a bath, duh!” Lance laughs, yanking on the faucet so water pours down into the bath.

 

Oh hell no

 

Notes:

Anyways, thanks for reading and I'm hoping to update and finish this as quickly as I can. If I messed something up, lmk so I can fix it before the next update.

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