Archive of Our Own ^beta

The constant hum of the shower is the only sound his ears can detect. There is nothing else but the drizzle of water against pristine white tile. It’s constant, rhythmic and almost soothing.

Almost.

The water was warm, the space billowing with a thick sheen of steam and the temperature was just to his liking…but there wasn’t enough hot water in all of the Castle of Lions to unravel the ache out of his bones.

He hurt everywhere.

The brunet sighed out long and low, fingers pressing against a particularly tender area on his ribcage. A hiss of breath made its way through his teeth at the contact.

Well that was going to bruise.

As was the blow that had come to the meat of his thigh, and most likely his kneecap from the fall he’d taken after a misstep…he wouldn’t be surprised if he awoke tomorrow morning with quite a collection of bruises honestly.

Lance allowed his shoulders to fall slightly.

What an embarrassment it all was.

He’d been training with the sparring bot in secret for weeks now. In secret of course because he really couldn’t stomach the thought of the other’s knowing that he was clocking in extra hours, or rather why he was.

An unsettling sensation stirred deep down in the pit of his gut.

Because he wasn’t good enough.

He wasn’t as fast as Keith with his weapons. The stupid mullet head made the whole art of fighting look like a walk in the park. Lance loathed the way Keith danced around the sparring bot like his feet were made of feathers, never really toeing the ground for more than a handful of seconds.

He wasn’t as tech savvy as Pidge was. He’d tried to hang over the younger’s shoulder, tiptoeing around just outright begging her to teach him how she made it all look so simple. But of course she could only take so much of Lance’s antics and he inevitably was shooed away in a matter of an hour tops.

He wasn’t the expert mechanic that Hunk was. As much as Hunk tried to make a mechanic’s apprentice out of Lance, the brunet still fumbled with the tools and remembering the difference between a Phillips head screwdriver and  a flathead. Which of course was basic knowledge and Lance could nearly feel Hunk internally rolling his eyes when Lance had screwed up the titles for the umpteenth time. Of course Hunk would never outwardly make Lance feel bad for not knowing…but Lance could tell he was the slightest bit annoyed.

And Shiro…he couldn’t even bring up the words for how he paled in comparison to the older man. Because Shiro was Shiro. He was always calm, always collected, always kind and always full of wisdom. He was the absolute textbook definition of what a leader should be and he’d given so much to the team. He made them stronger. He brought them together.

And he was also the start of all of this mess that Lance found himself in.

Lance curled his fists at his sides angrily.

Because there was this stupid, ridiculous want deep down inside of him that needed to be of importance to Shiro. He needed to be worthy of the other man’s attention and praise. He just wanted to capture the black paladin’s eye…if only for a moment.

He was near desperate for it.

But he wasn’t anything like the other paladins.

He wasn’t something special, he wasn’t an expert fighter, or computer whiz, or machinist. He was just Lance.

Just Lance.

That was it.

Lance felt his throat tighten mercilessly, choking the breath right out of him.

In his efforts to ensure the others didn’t look too closely, didn’t get too curious, he’d dug himself into a hole. He put up such a front that even he believed it anymore. If he was loud enough and boisterous enough, they would all just see him as a rambunctious, girl crazy, overzealous young man. That kept them just at arm’s length. His normally egotistical, cocky attitude kept them all in the dark about just how insecure he was.

Lance grimaced.

They all thought he was a joke.

Maybe he was a joke.

The last person he wanted to be seen as a joke by was the one person who probably thought him to be the biggest clown...

He’d buried the churning feelings so far down that he really never thought they’d reach the surface again.

But here they were.

He’d done so good for so long…it was all his fault.

That caring expression, those soft eyes…that had brought everything back.

Or more so this absurd need that Lance had developed to impress the black paladin. He needed Shiro to think highly of him and he hated that.

Because how could the man ever praise someone like him…someone who was just mediocre at the very best and forgettable at the worst.  

But most importantly how could Shiro ever talk highly of a liar.

Lance’s eyes cracked open as he allowed the water to run down the nape of his neck and stream down the length of his spine in frantic rivers.

Maybe that was his talent.

Lying.

Because he’d certainly become pretty damned good at the art of it.

Slow, slender fingers ran the length of his collarbone then ventured down over his chest, stopping to address the time faded scars running subtly along the underside of his pectorals. He could feel his breath hitch as his eyes wandered down. Two barely pink markings that were boldfaced evidence of his lying expertise.

He swallowed hard.

It wasn’t fair really.

What a thing it all was.

To be given a body that was wrong at birth.

What a cruel joke.

Much as his life was.

His parents were accepting to a point, but their patience had faded with time and the little crack that showed through to their disappointments with him was eventually visible. And now it was happening all over again. The disappointment in his teammates’ eyes when he fumbled was weighing on him. He swallowed it down and blanketed it all with humor but that would only hold out for so long.

He’d struggled on his own for much of his time here in space.

Well save for Hunk, who was the only one he trusted with his truths. Hunk had been his best friend for some time and since rooming with him at Garrison, there had been a good amount of trust formed between the other young men. Hunk was a bit of his saving grace honestly. He’d been sneaking in outside orders of Lance’s medication for some time and Lance wasn’t even sure how the big man had managed that here in the depths of space. He had a hunch it had something to do with Shay, who’d made connections with some sort of trade market. The Balmeran had really come into her own after the release of her planet. She was a force to be reckoned with and Lance really did enjoy seeing Hunk’s eyes light up at just the mention of her name.

Lance grimaced.

He was happy for his friend of course…but that only reminded him of the burning deep down in his stomach and the heat that always seemed to creep into his cheeks whenever he got near.

Him with the stupidly broad shoulders and the brown eyes so dark they were like melted chocolate.

Him with the voice that invaded Lance’s head nearly every moment of the day, and had now successfully crept into his midnight dreamscapes.

He was always warm in the confines of Lance’s head. Warm and big, with hands that roamed confidently over the spans of Lance’s length. He always pressed himself so close to Lance’s form, close enough to feel the other man’s heat seep into his flesh and the beat of his heart thrum against Lance’s own chest. In his head Shiro pressed his mouth to Lance’s ear and whispered to him how much he needed the brunet, how important Lance was to him. In his head Shiro would be overcome by the crippling desire to get Lance all alone. He’d be desperate for it. Having to hide it from the other’s he’d be viciously hard by the time he’d gotten the skinny young man behind closed doors, his pants straining against his overly eager cock.

Lance whined and slapped a hand over his mouth as his eyes slid closed.

The Shiro in the safe haven of his head would press him sternly against the wall of some closet tucked away in the belly of the castle with the door locked to keep prying eyes out. Because he couldn’t wait to drag Lance to a bedroom, that would take too much time and he needed him now.

“We could just go back to my quarters…” Lance would say with a grin.

“I can’t wait that long.” Shiro would pant against his skin, big fingers already working apart the hitches of Lance’s pants, his belt dangling open limply.

And Lance would instantaneously be high on the animalistic rattle that clung to Shiro’s voice.

And Lance’s hands would be all over the big man, exploring something by that point he’d know so damned well it was all routine. He’d know every ridge and swell of muscle like some well-practiced road map. He’d know just where to touch, he’d know just how to touch.

And with that his digits would be sliding over the swell of Shiro’s crotch, feeling the hard flesh beneath clothing and Shiro would make a winded noise, as if the very air had been stolen right out of his lungs. Shiro’s hips would stutter forward, his pelvis rocking against the warmth of Lance’s palm, desperate for friction in any way he could obtain it.

Lance’s fingers wandered down his limber body, soft pads sliding between velvety slick folds and he should have been embarrassed that his imagination had riled him into such a ridiculously vulnerable state…but in that moment he didn’t much care. His head was clouded with the thought of Shiro all around him, breathing hard and ragged, big hands dragging Lance toward him.

Shiro would have Lance’s jeans hitched around the tops of his thighs in a matter of moments, one leg tugged loose and his sneaker lying abandoned on the floor, that way Shiro could spread him out the way he liked. He liked Lance’s legs wrapped around his big hips and his arms looped around his neck. Shiro liked him close, and Lance wasn’t about to complain.

Lance’s long fingers gently delved into his entrance as the Shiro in his head did the same. Shiro’s digits would be so big, his human fingers familiar and welcomed. They’d know just how to curl within Lance, stroking along his front inner wall, skillfully finding his interior weakness.

Lance leaned hard against the wall as his fingers very slowly pumped into himself, finding a relaxed, unhurried pace that had his need drooling down on his own digits.

Shiro wouldn’t waste much time, Lance was so ready and he was so painfully hard. They needed to come together like volatile components, exploding against one another in a bright burn that was too hot for either of them.

The Shiro in his head doesn’t bother with a condom, needing to feel Lance raw and wet and bare…and it’s an absurd fantasy. Lance can’t help but to linger on how un-characteristic that would be of Shiro. Shiro was all about keeping his paladins safe. There was no way in hell he’d be so lax with protection.

Lance shoved the thought out of his head.

For the sake of his fantasy his Shiro would be too eager to give that a passing thought.

Shiro’s mouth would be so busy on the thrum of his throat, causing Lance’s neck to nearly give out as he’d arch in the big man’s grip. He’d press eagerly against Lance’s entrance, cock glistening and moist already. With a roll of big hips he’d slide into the young man, heavy sounds rumbling forth from his chest.

Lance buried his bottom lip between perfect teeth as his index finger found his swollen dick, quick ministrations bringing him quickly to the edge of the self-indulgent fantasy.

Shiro would whisper curses and prayers in the shell of Lance’s ear, hips never ceasing as they drove up into Lance’s ready body. It would feel like hours in the tepid heat of the closet, bodies moving against one another. He’d mewl and cry Shiro’s name as the bigger man fucked into him, Shiro’s thumb drawing intricate little circles over his sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing him right to the very conclusion of his pleasure.

Lance cried out weakly as the Shiro in his head held him close and brought him to his finish, the two of them climaxing in unison as Shiro let go of his hot load deep within Lance’s core.

Lance came around his sticky fingers, pressed firmly to the shower wall, his stomach coiling tight as it all came to a head in a bright, brilliant warmth. Like a firecracker having been lit and then gone off in all its glory the pleasure only stayed for a matter of seconds, the aftermath of coming down from the unreal high suddenly washing over Lance’s form.

The young man took his fingers from himself in absolute shame and stared into the glittering tile as he panted for breath unevenly.

Why did he keep doing this to himself?

Shiro would never want him like that, Shiro didn’t even want him as a paladin.

You’re just a failure.

Lance felt a lump forming in his throat.

He’d never want you.

He doesn’t even notice you exist.

You are just a burden to this team.

“Shut-up!!!” Lance yelled to the voices booming in his head.

He sent his fist flying into the wall with as much force as he could muster.

He’d been training so hard, he’d been fighting so vigorously and what had it gotten him?

Nothing.

He’d made a fool of himself in training today and worst of all, right in front of Shiro.

He’d put the bot on a far too difficult setting in a rash attempt to make the slightest bit of an impression on the black paladin. The bot had wiped the floor with him. As hard as he’d tried he just couldn’t keep up. He’d fought so, so hard. But it had resulted in Shiro having to step in to save the young man from the bot’s wrath.

Lance felt the tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

Shiro’s voice had been so stern and disappointed as he’d yelled at Lance.

“That thing could have killed you!! What were you thinking Lance??”

Shiro’s voice rung in his ears.

He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

Maybe it all would have been easier if the bot really had just taken him out and gotten it over with.

Lance had been so angry, his face red and his breath labored. He’d just shoved past Shiro without a word and now here he was, wallowing in the confines of the shower.

Loud, racking sobs tore through the young man’s chest as he recalled the painful events. Now he just carried a bruised body and a beaten ego. He could never be the paladin that Shiro needed. He didn’t know why he even came on this ridiculous quest. He wasn’t worthy of all of this.

“ Stupid, stupid, stupid…” Lance growled as he punched the wall again.

The tears streamed down his face, mixing with shower water and mucous in one heaping mess.

He was so pathetic.

Shiro’s footsteps were quiet as he approached the shared shower-room. He carried a fresh towel and a change of clothes in hand, his tired body ready for the warmth of the water. It had been an exceptionally long day.

He just needed a long shower and then the warmth of his clean sheets.

The large doors opened with the satisfying hiss of hydraulics and the big man entered the large room very slowly.

He was stopped dead in his tracks as he was alerted to the sound of another shower already occupied and running. Steam slipped from beneath the crack between the glass door of the stall and the floor and Shiro could just barely make out the outline of the tawny young man through the frosted sheen of the door, but instantly he knew it was Lance. He’d know that frame anywhere, slender and sinewy and overall pretty…of course Shiro would never admit to that that out loud though.

Maybe that was why he tended to avoid the blue paladin…because there was a certain sense of pull there that he wasn’t prepared to deal with. He couldn’t act on it, couldn’t categorize it and so he simply…stayed away from it.

But something was wrong here.

There were more sounds coming from the shower stall than just the running water.

There was the sound of what Shiro knew to be sobbing, then a hard thud, then another.

Shiro was rushing to the door before he really thought about how intrusive the act was going to be. He was almost certain he was going to find Lance toppled over in the shower, his wounds greater than what they’d assumed them to be after that beating he’d taken from the sparring bot. Shiro had thought he looked fine enough, maybe he was wrong.

Either way he needed to get into that shower and help.

Shiro ripped the shower door open with a great tug, concern heavy in his eyes.

“Lance!! Lance, are you ok??” Shiro barked as he intruded on the private moment.

Lance whirred in surprise, his wet eyes the size of dinner plates as he met gazes with the other paladin. The shock kept him from really soaking in the situation fully. He could only focus on how worried Shiro’s face was, but then the concern slowly melted into something else.

Shiro’s eyes scored over the exposed young man, from top to bottom, soaking in every aspect of the other man with a sudden sense of realization.

Lance suddenly was aware of what the other man was so focused on. His wide mocha orbs darted from Lance’s apex, to the scars beneath his chest.

And suddenly a wash of terror swam over the young man.

He covered himself instinctively, more tears now clambering down his cheeks.

“I’m fine Shiro.” Lance managed to hiccup as he hurriedly turned off the water and snatched his towel from the rack beside him.

He covered his nude form, trying to hide just how mortified he actually was and shoved past Shiro insistently.

“Lance…I…uh…” Shiro stuttered as he tried to process the situation, but his slow brain just did not want to keep up.

Lance tugged on his boxer briefs hurriedly and yanked a pair of grey sweatpants up his tragically beautiful hips. Shiro felt his chest tightening as he watched the obviously devastated other man. How could he have missed it? How could he have not known? He was the head of Voltron, he was supposed to be their leader, the one they came to with problems and secrets alike. How could he have overlooked something so important?

It all hit him like a ton of bricks.

In his effort to bury his sparked feelings for the paladin he’d missed the entire thing. He’d been so blinded by his own need to distance himself from the emotions that he’d left Lance out in the cold.

Lance pulled on his simple t-shirt and made to leave.

“Lance wait, I’m sorry…” Shiro managed as he tripped over his words.

Lance paused and shook his head.

“Just leave it alone.” Lance snarled before heading out of the shower room.

Shiro stood there for a matter of moments, frozen in place as the entire encounter bowled him over.

He was so ashamed.

He’d failed the blue paladin.

He should have been more observant.

It only made his heart ache.

He needed to make this right.

Shiro hurried after the other man.

Lance’s feet carried him quickly through the castle. He didn’t really know where they were taking him, he was simply following. That was all he could really do in the current situation. He just hoped with all his might that he wouldn’t run into anybody else in his journey through the corridors. He wiped at his eyes in vain, sniffling and trying to choke back the shuddering sobs.

And then he found himself in the all too familiar hangar of his own lion. He just needed her safe haven. She was a fortress that he could hide himself within and shut everything else out. The lion accepted him with ready, glistening eyes, burning yellow in deep set sockets. She lowered herself to allow him entrance and the young man hurried his way to the cockpit.

He slumped himself down in the pilot's’ seat like a heavy sack of bricks, his fingers smoothing over the well-known armrests. He tilted his head back as he allowed the tears to come, and with Blue’s comfort all around him he just let it all go.

He could hear her kindness flowing through his every nerve, sense her right there with him. She knew he was hurting, she knew his pain and she was there for him.

I’m here for you.

It was quiet here in the lion, and yet it wasn’t. Her buzzing and humming warmth spread through him like honey.

And then the hiss of the large bay doors shook him out of his serene state.

The black paladin looked so small from the front windshield of the lion, but even from here Lance could see the worry across his face, his brows pushed up in concern.

Lance sighed.

He couldn’t deal with Shiro right now, he didn’t have the energy.

“Lance! I know you are up there! Please, I think we should…talk.” Shiro hollered up toward the massive lion.

With that the lion closed her jaw and raised her head defiantly. She wasn’t about to let the other man inside when her paladin was in such shape. She would protect him at all costs.

Shiro outwardly sighed and crossed his arms.

“Lance please.” Shiro was nearly on the verge of begging.

A low growl was all he was answered with, omitted from the large blue robot.

Shiro sighed and let his shoulders fall.

Maybe he should just leave it be for now. If Lance needed some time alone…maybe it was best he let him have it. He couldn’t pry into this…he had to let Lance come to him.

He frowned.

He just hoped Lance would even trust him enough to open up.

Shiro breathed in deep.

He couldn’t leave just yet.

The black paladin slowly plopped himself down on the floor of the bay, sitting with his arms hung over his knees, his eyes still trained on the glowering orbs of the lion.

“Ok. You don’t have to talk. But I’m going to.” Shiro sighed.

Lance curled into his seat of the lion, not really wanting to see the other man, but regardless he wanted to hear him, and so blue was projecting his voice through the cab as instructed.

“Lance, I’m sorry for being so harsh with you today after the training session. I just…I don’t do well with seeing you get hurt. I don’t know how to handle you being in danger. With the other’s it’s easy…I know how to fix everything…I just don’t know how to do that with you. That’s my fault. I’ve let you down and I can’t begin to describe how sorry I am.” Shiro breathed as he ran a heavy hand through his hair.

“When you are ready to talk…I want to be here for you. I care about you Lance…maybe too much. That used to scare me, but now I see I really made a mistake.”  

Lance felt himself bubble with anger.

Was that why Shiro never seemed to have time for him?

Was that why the other’s constantly gathered the black paladin’s attention and Lance seemed to be left in the dark? What was he saying?

Shiro sat on the cold flooring, looking hopefully toward the lion’s muzzle, but after a few moments he realized there would be no resolving this in the present. He needed to let his words lay and give Lance time.

“I’ll go now ok.” Shiro said with a big sigh, eyes flicking to the lion’s one final time as he lifted himself from the floor and finally turned toward the door.

Lance felt everything within him tighten.

I care about you Lance…maybe too much…

The words buzzed in his brain.

What did that even mean?

Was this some sick joke?

Regardless of what it was…he didn’t care in that moment. He just wanted the silence of the cockpit and the soothing hum of his lion.

The next few days became a game of what Lance liked to call avoid Shiro at all costs. He even settled for training early with Keith just to avoid running into the black paladin. He ate when he was sure Shiro wouldn’t be in the mess hall and every corner he turned was done so with caution.

He just wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to say. Were there even words for such things?

Lance felt himself deflate a little as he headed down the corridor. He was all too eager to simply hide himself away in his room, play some of his favorite music and forget the past few days had ever happened. Hunk was already asking him questions as to why his mood was so bleak and Lance felt bad for brushing the sweet man off…but he just wasn’t prepared to explain.

He knew Hunk meant well.

He really did…he just couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him all that had taken place. He’d never even told the yellow paladin about his feelings for their leader. He’d planned to take that to his grave really.

He was so lost in thought he hardly realized how fast he was moving, or how quickly he took the corner. Before he could get his feet to stop he was crashing right into the other body coming the opposite direction as him. Lance slammed into the other person hard, his form bouncing back off the firm chest he’d collided with.

Lance gathered himself, narrowly catching himself from simply spilling onto the floor and raised his eyes. His look instantly contorted into horror.

Of all the people he didn’t want to run into.

At this point he’d have been more ok with smacking into Zarkon than the man standing before him.

“Lance…” Shiro said with a relieved, almost too excited sigh.

“I’ve been looking all over for you…” Shiro admitted sadly.

He was fully aware Lance was avoiding him.

And that hurt.

But if he was going to be painfully honest with himself he’d been pulling the same antics on the blue paladin for weeks now. What a selfish fool he’d been.

Lance huffed and made to step past Shiro.

“I’m sure you have been.” Lance said sarcastically.

He wasn’t sure if this was some sort of façade that the other man was putting on, but Lance knew that Shiro giving him the time of day for more than the passing glance or pep talk was too good to be true.

Suddenly Shiro’s hand caught Lance’s wrist, gripping tight.

Lance looked back with unease in his eyes.

“Lance I’m serious, I’ve been really worried about you.” Shiro admittedly softly.

“Since when do you worry that much about me? If it’s about the trans thing, congrats, now you know I’m a big liar. Just…just…don’t…I can handle it just fine without you prying. I’m fine. Seriously.” Lance said angrily.

Shiro’s face fell slightly.

He looked so sad and Lance knew that expression had to be genuine. Shiro wasn’t exactly talented in faking emotions.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Shiro whispered softly.

Lance’s face screwed up into a look of bewilderment.

“Why the heck would I tell you? You who can’t even give me a moment of your spare time most days. Half the time I run myself ragged trying to impress you, or hell just get your attention for half a second. I’m so stupid, this is stupid.” Lance barked.

Shiro seemed taken aback.

“Lance…I never-I never meant to ignore you I just…didn’t trust myself around you…you are an amazing marksman and you always impress me with how loyal you are…” Shiro whispered.

Lance rolled his eyes brashly.

“Didn’t trust yourself around me? Is this about your stupid Galra arm? What, afraid you are going to hurt me with it or something? You don’t seem worried about that with the others.” Lance defended sharply.

Shiro frowned.

“No it’s not that…” Shiro started feebly as he followed on Lance’s heels as the young man approached his quarter’s doors.

“Then what Shiro?? Humor me would you?” Lance snapped as he opened the door impatiently and much to his dismay Shiro skillfully followed him inside.

With the doors snapped shut Lance dumped himself on his bed angrily, staring daggers into the man standing before him.

“I just was…afraid of how I felt about you. I didn’t think they were appropriate feelings for a leader. So I buried them and as a result I buried everything else along with it. I’ve let you down Lance and I am deeply sorry.” Shiro breathed.

Lance blinked several times at the other man, still having trouble soaking in the words he was uttering.

“You…you mean you…felt something for me?” Lance stuttered.

He didn’t know whether to be absolutely livid or cry out of sheer relief.

Lance grit his teeth. No. That couldn’t be right. All he was, was a disappointment. He wasn’t the paladin Shiro needed him to be. Shiro…having feelings for him. Shiro being confused by feelings for him? What a load of horse shit that was.

Lance felt his heart pound against his chest.

“You don’t need to do this out of pity for me. I’m just a fake. I don’t belong here. So just stop. You sound stupid saying things like that.”  Lance snarled.

With that Shiro was crossing the room.

The big man cupped Lance’s face in his hands, his eyes stern as he looked down at the younger man.

“Stop. Of course you belong here. The blue lion chose you, Voltron chose you. You bring spirit to the team and I can’t help but to love your stupid humor. You always astound me with how caring and giving you are. You are stunning Lance.” Shiro said breathlessly.

Lance swallowed hard.

“But…I lied…to everybody…I’m not really a-…” Lance began, tears welling up in his eyes without his control.

“Yes. Yes you are. You are exactly the man I and the others have grown so fond of. You didn’t lie about a thing. You are perfect exactly the way you are.” Shiro cut the other man off.

And then Shiro’s mouth was pressing against Lance’s, hot and wanting and Lance wasn’t even sure if this was reality anymore. Was this some wild dream he’d conjured up? Any moment he’d wake with a start…except…he wasn’t.

This was very, very real.

Shiro’s hands gently tilted Lance’s chin back as he indulged in the display of affection.

And then suddenly Shiro was hurriedly pulling away.

“I’m so sorry.” Shiro said in bewilderment.

“I don’t know what got into me…”

Lance touched his fingers to his lips tenderly.

Before Lance could really process his next actions, he was set in motion. He wasn’t about to let this moment just slip away without first giving it his best shot.

The young brunet leaned forward on the bed, pressing his lips into Shiro’s once more. Shiro was hesitant firstly, but as Lance gently curled his fists in the front of Shiro’s shirt the man seemed to relax just slightly.

Shiro tasted like coffee and peppermint. Undoubtedly because the man had been almost exclusively running off the stuff since they’d found an abundant supply in an off-world trade shop. It was a heavy, pleasant taste as Shiro’s tongue came to slide along Lance’s own. And as the kiss deepened, so did the boom in Lance’s chest cavity.

He was pretty sure it was loud enough for Shiro to hear.

Like a big bass drum thudding against the inside of his ribs.

Ba-dup, Ba-dup, Ba-dup…

The two men parted for a moment, mirroring one another’s labored breathing. Shiro’s fingers gently brushed through the brunet’s soft chocolate locks. They were even more glorious to the touch than Shiro could have imagined.

“You made me feel so invisible.” Lance whispered sadly and Shiro paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry Lance. I’m so sorry.” Shiro whispered sadly as he invited himself to sit on the bed next to Lance.

Shiro’s hands wandered hesitantly, one arm wrapping around the thinner waist while the other made home on the top of Lance’s thigh. This was such a difficult place to be in, Shiro was quickly finding. He was caught in-between the guilt for making Lance feel this way and the need that was pooling warmly in his stomach. Both emotions tugging at his interior frame was incredibly frustrating. He didn’t know how to handle all of this. Part of him wanted to press the gorgeous young man into the sheets and part of him just wanted to hold Lance nice and tender until he’d earned the brunet’s forgiveness and good graces.

“You aren’t invisible. I always saw you.” Shiro whispered as he pressed his forehead against Lance’s.

“I can’t stop thinking about your big, blue eyes, the way your laugh sounds, the way you chew your lip when you are stressed.” Shiro whispered.

Lance felt all the words he wanted to say get lodged in the thick of his esophagus.

So he said nothing at all, but did allow Shiro’s false fingers to run gentle circles over his thigh.

“It’s hard not to notice you with the way your hips look in your uniform” Shiro nearly panted, his lips very slowly making their way to Lance’s earlobe.

Shiro kissed there, very softly, his lips just barely sucking the sensitive flesh of Lance’s lobe.

Lance wanted to hate the other man.

He wanted to hate him for dragging him through this for so long. He wanted to hate him for not saying anything. He wanted to hate him for starving him of such attention and then suddenly laying it all out upon him.

“I hope you can forgive me.” Shiro said in a hushed, unsteady tone.

Lance swallowed.

Here was every one of his ridiculous fantasies being thrust upon right before him and yet he didn’t know how he should feel about any of it. Was he really just going to let Shiro in so easily? Even after everything? Was that silly?

But the big man was warm and comforting against him.

His words were so soft and so caring.

Each and every one of his apologies was so vulnerable.

Caught in-between desire and the want to make things right. Shiro was navigating unknown territory. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this about anyone. It had been even longer since he’d acted upon it.

“I’m sorry.” Shiro whispered kissing Lance’s cheek, searching desperately for the other man’s favor.

And finally Lance smiled.

“Stop apologizing.” Lance said softly as he turned to look Shiro in the eyes.

“Sorry.” Shiro chuckled, then immediately realized his mistake.

“Uh, sorry for saying sorry for that too…” He stuttered.

“Shiro.” Lance said shaking his head.

“I forgive you I promise. It’s nice to know…you really do care. It’s stupid of me to need your approval so much…I just…you’re my hero. I want to be just like you…I just…don’t know it’s all so confusing.” Lance sighed.

“I don’t want you to be just like me. I want you to be just like you.” Shiro reassured as he brushed Lance’s bangs out of his face.

Lance’s eyes filled with sadness.

“Being me isn’t that great trust me. Sometimes I don’t even feel comfortable in my own skin.” Lance admitted as his eyes flicked to the ground.

“I just figure if I’m loud and silly enough nobody will notice how much it hurts sometimes…” He admitted softly.

Shiro looked on with wide, concerned eyes.

“But you are wonderful. You’re so handsome and so bright.” Shiro hushed as he placed several small kisses to Lance’s neck, the young man absent mindedly tilting his head to give Shiro more room to work with.

“You always make everybody smile and you are such an important part of this team.” Shiro huffed and Lance made a small noise of appreciation.

Lance felt himself melt into every single one of Shiro’s praises. He’d spent so much time seeking them, he never really stopped to think about how it might feel once they were given.

It felt… nice.

Shiro’s fingers very hesitantly nudged up beneath the hem of Lance’s comfortable cotton shirt. Lance had expected the metal to be cold against the skin of his stomach and yet it was surprisingly comfortable, warm even, in the strangest of ways.

Lance hummed out softly.

“I didn’t expect it to be warm.” Lance purred lazily.

Shiro paused for a moment and looked down at his Galra prosthetic.

“You don’t mind it do you?” Shiro whispered unsurely.

The thing was a sore spot for the black paladin. An unwelcome entity that had been forced upon him without his consent. Most days it really didn’t feel like part of him and as he let it process he felt more and more uncomfortable touching the limber young man so intimately with the same hand he’d used to slaughter men and beasts alike in the ring. This hand had spilt blood upon it.

The thought made Shiro pull the digits away instinctively.

Lance caught the other man’s arm suddenly and eased Shiro’s artificial palm back beneath the material of his clothing.

“Don’t stop.” Lance huffed.

Shiro seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“Please.” Lance tacked on the comment breathlessly.

Shiro smiled, a little more reassured and gently explored over the lean form of Lance’s body. The false appendage alerted him that he was touching skin, even allowed him to sense the warmth of the young man. The technology wasn’t used to being pressed against another body and certainly not in this way…but Lance seemed to move ever so slightly closer to Shiro’s mechanical fingers and the black paladin became just a little more ok with it.

The digits were radiating with warmth as they stroked over Lance’s abdomen.  He wasn’t really sure how…and part of him considered being concerned the Galra tech might just give him some weird alien radiation…but the concern quickly faded as Shiro thumbed over the jut of his hipbone.

Every touch was so gentle and so carefully calculated.

But was this too far?

Was this too quick?

All the anxious questions buzzed in Shiro’s brain. He didn’t want the blue paladin to feel anything but reassured. He didn’t want to seem too eager for other things. He didn’t want Lance to get the wrong idea. He didn’t want to move too fast and make it look like he was only in this for one thing.

That of course was not the case.

He wanted the young man.

He wanted him desperately.

He’d wanted him for weeks now.

But he also wanted Lance to feel safe. He didn’t know if he deserved all of this just yet.

“Is this…ok? I don’t want to seem like I’m moving so fast. I’m sorry you are just…so gorgeous…” Shiro said suddenly, his eyes meeting with Lance’s.

Lance grinned sly and slow.

“Just keep going.” Lance groaned as he moved a little closer to Shiro’s mass.

“Are you sure?” Shiro questioned hesitantly.

Lance leaned forward to drag his fingers down the swells of Shiro’s chest.

“Pretty sure.” Lance cooed.

Shiro smiled, hesitant and something bordering right along the lines of somewhat shy. Lance returned the expression and wrapped his arms around the breadth of Shiro’s shoulders. The man was all muscle, Lance’s fingers dragging over tendons and firm swells beneath the material of Shiro’s shirt. Lance took the liberty to toe off his ragged sneakers, the worn footwear thudding to the floor heavily.

Shiro was far less casual with the removal of his own boots. He leaned down to carefully untie them and settled them neatly next to Lance’s bed, tucking his black socks into the footwear tidily before returning his attention to Lance.

The black paladin invited himself into Lance’s personal space as the brunet scooted backward on the painfully small bed, the thing made even smaller with Shiro’s broad form. There really wasn’t another way to fit on the furniture other than for Shiro to hover himself above the other pilot.

Lance’s entire body welcomed Shiro in a way that Shiro really wasn’t sure he was quite deserving of.

But Lance seemed to be enveloped in a blissful state that egged Shiro’s movements on without question. He wanted to make Lance feel good, he wanted to make him feel wanted. And this seemed to be doing all of that and more.

And seeing the young man sprawled out on the neatly tucked sheets was doing all kinds of things to Shiro.

The big man swallowed thickly.

He hadn’t expected to be deteriorating this quickly, but the curl of warmth in his abdomen couldn’t exactly be brushed off and ignored.

Lance bowed off the bed to get his lips on the other paladin’s and all of Shiro’s rushing thoughts fluttered apart. In that moment all that mattered was the warmth of Lance’s mouth on his and the way the other man kissed so eagerly. As if he only had moments to have Shiro like this. Which of course was untrue, with every moment Lance kissed Shiro like that, Shiro was mentally clearing his schedule to ensure he had all the time in the world to have the young man. In a number of different ways.

He wanted to savor every goddamned moment that he had the young man in his grip and he would settle for nothing less than that.

Lance broke for breath and gasped into the cool air of the bedroom, Shiro’s body a solid comfort against him as the other man very, very slowly began to tug the young man’s shirt up over his lengthy form. Shiro’s gaze flicked to Lance’s, as if to silently ask permission once more. The smile draped over Lance’s face was say so enough.

Lance raised his lanky arms up over his head as he allowed Shiro to steal him of his baggy shirt. The cold air had the young man’s soft, brown, supple nipples rising to attention, a hiss of breath passing Lance’s teeth. It had been a long time since he’d been like this before another person. He just always found himself shying away from the idea of any kind of intimacy. That left him too exposed, too vulnerable.

Lance felt his throat tightening as he watched the trail of Shiro’s gaze, the bigger man’s pupils settled on the gentle scars scribed on his chest. The insecurities suddenly crept into Lance’s bones. Would Shiro really be ok with this? Maybe it was too much.

Shiro seemed to catch a glimpse of the way Lance’s face seemed to contort into something sad and fearful.

Shiro gently bent to place a kiss to each of the perfect surgical marks, his mouth explorative and encouraging. Lance pinched his lip between perfect teeth as he watched the other man’s advances. Shiro took his time as he pampered the irregular colored skin with his lips, his affections eventually making their way to the younger man’s right nipple, taking the susceptible bub between his lips and sucking very lightly.

Lance gasped out, his chin tilting backward as he stretched his arms up over his head.

Shiro’s tongue weaved circles around the sensitive area, coaxing small, weak little sounds of satisfaction from Lance’s tongue. They couldn’t rightfully be called moans, not just yet, but Shiro was well on his way to molding the sounds into them.

Shiro abandoned Lance’s nipple, the little bud swollen and attentive, and moved to the other, pampering it with the same treatment as its’ partner. Lance was like melted butter in the black paladin’s palm, his body arching toward the man’s mouth, silently begging for more.

Shiro dragged himself dazedly from the young man’s chest, a string of saliva connecting his lip to the cuban’s skin. Lance rolled his eyes open watched with utter enthrallment as Shiro carefully gripped Lance’s hand and placed the younger’s fingers on the bridge of his nose.

“Guess we both have scars…” Shiro whispered.

A wide smile crept across Lance’s mouth.

“I like your’s better though.” Shiro continued as he craned to get his mouth on the side of Lance’s jaw.

Lance giggled softly as fat, sloppy tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t help them from coming forth, and so they streamed down his cheeks in hot rivers.

Shiro drew back immediately, his eyes growing in apprehension.

“Lance, are you ok? Did I say something.?” Shiro asked quickly.

The concern in the black and white haired man's tone was absolutely beautiful.

Lance shook his head and hiccuped slightly as he feebly wiped away the thick tears.

“No, no you're fine. I'm just overwhelmed.” Lance said through his heavy tears.

“In a good way.” He added when Shiro's brow did not relax at the first comment.

Shiro smiled softly.

“You’re ok. I'm right here. I've got you.” Shiro said softly as he kissed Lance's forehead.

With Shiro's fingers in his hair and the big man whispering soft praises in his ear Lance could feel himself unraveling. He'd been so scared of intimacy for so long but this...This was tearing down all the walls he'd spent years building up.

After pampering Lance's neck adequately Shiro leaned onto his knees momentarily, hands skillfully stripping his tight fitting shirt from his torso. Lance was starry eyed as the dark haired man’s muscles flexed with the action. He was far bigger this close, his abdomen riddled with hard earned muscle. Everything on him looked so solid.

Those muscles were homage to the time the man had spent in Galra captivity. Lance had never asked Shiro about his capture. He only knew pieces of it from overhearing a conversation Shiro was having with Allura once. He'd heard Shiro talk of remembering the fighting ring, men and animals faced against each other in a struggle often to the death.

Shiro's face had been so sullen as he'd recalled the memories.

Lance’s eyes darted over the wide, erratic scars scattered across the spans of the man’s front. One in particular scribed all the way from Shiro’s mid stomach down almost to the meet of his groin. Whatever had made that horrid scar was far meaner than anything Lance had been faced with in this hell-scape of space.

Lance frowned as he reached out to tenderly touch the massive, horrendous mark.

“That looks like it was painful.” Lance said in a hushed tone as his fingers became familiar with the flesh that had healed unevenly.

Shiro shrugged.

“I don’t remember that one.” Shiro admitted with a scowl.

Lance nodded with wide, curious eyes.

His fingertips traveled the surface of Shiro’s body, touching carefully over the many scars, stopping to play in the dark hairs running from the man’s navel down below the hem of his dark grey pants.

“I think you’re wrong though, your scars are way cooler than mine.” Lance teased as he tugged the dark haired man in close and kissed the high plane of his cheek.

Shiro smiled against him.

“We can just agree to disagree.” Shiro huffed as he not so gently captured Lance’s plump bottom lip between his canines.

Lance hummed at the action, fingers scraping over big, heavy shoulders as his knees dug into the sides of Shiro’s hips. They were lost in each other once more, hands becoming just a little less timid, touches molding into things that were quite a bit bolder.

Lance's hips rolled to meet with Shiro’s and the young man was cheekily pleased as his apex rubbed against the hard outline of Shiro’s weakness straining against his clothing. Shiro grunted and shuddered just slightly as Lance bore downward, purposely rotating his groin against the big man’s hardness. It was unfair really, though Shiro hadn’t really assumed the pretty man would be one to play by any set of rules.

“Ah-ha… Lance…” Shiro groaned softly, his body seeming to weaken just with the contact through the barrier of clothing.

Lance beamed peevishly.

He never thought his name could sound so good coming from someone else’s mouth. But it just rolled off of Shiro’s tongue like it was always meant to be there.

Shiro’s human fingers delved beneath the hem of Lance’s grey sweatpants, his urgency clear in the way he suddenly tugged the soft material downward. The bright blue stripes of Lance’s underwear peered out to greet the other man. Shiro thumbed the soft material fondly and looked up to Lance’s flushed expression. The young man was panting raggedly, his cheeks painted brilliant pink, his eyes glossy with need.

The big man leaned down to nose against the jut of Lance’s hip, offering sloppy, indulgent kisses all the way to the man’s naval, smiling against the soft brown hairs. Lance whimpered softly as the other man nipped at the elastic of the brunet’s boxers, his eyes teasing and pleased.

Shiro kissed the man’s tawny flesh slowly.

“How’s that feel?” Shiro questioned sincerely.

Lance gave the other man a dazed look and after a silent moment finally managed to muster the words.

“Good. Really good.” Lance managed to pant.

Shiro took the man’s blissful response as permission to move farther. His fingers hitched beneath the soft clothing and dragged the undergarments down. Lance looked on with a slight bit of concern in his pupils. The aspect of someone seeing him in such a susceptible state was frightening to say the least.

“You’re so handsome Lance.” Shiro breathed heavily as he pulled the material down the lanky man’s quaking thighs.

Lance covered his eyes with his hand in embarrassment. Every time was a hard pill to swallow. Each time he disrobed it was always the same, there was always just a piece of him missing. The age old anxiety crept up from the deepest parts of him. Shiro was just being kind. He wasn’t handsome, he was flawed.

Lance could feel the new air as his bottom half was exposed. He could hear his pants hit the floor with a careless toss. Then Shiro’s gentle hands were prying Lance’s fingers off his face.

“Let me see those baby blues.” Shiro said softly.

Lance blinked nervously, his eyes coming open from behind hooded lids.

Shiro kissed the young man softly.

“There we go. That’s a good boy. So pretty.” Shiro praised genuinely.

Lance inflated on the big man’s words.

Good boy.

“Call me a good boy again.” Lance panted.

A devious grin crept its way across Shiro’s lips.

“You’re my good boy aren’t you Lance?” Shiro hissed in the younger’s ear, his words dripping with a certain sense of primal nature that had Lance’s toes curling.

Lance gasped out and shifted beneath Shiro, body eagerly inviting Shiro’s advances.

“So good, so pretty and ready for me.” Shiro snarled as big fingers finally found the bravery to wander just a little farther down Lance’s careening body.

Large finger-pads gently slid through the ready folds of Lance’s need, gently testing the uncharted territory. Lance bucked into the bigger man, a loud, helpless moan coming hot off his tongue without his control.

Shiro seemed to weaken against the glorious sound, fingers finding their confidence as he stroked teasingly around his labia. His thumb ran the length of Lance, enjoying just how wet he found the man to be. The velvety soft flesh was warm and soaked against his digits as he lazily stroked the young man, eventually coming to his hooded dick, where Shiro paused to pay special attention to the sensitive area.

Lance vaulted gracefully, back leaving the bed in a beautiful arch as he pressed himself more firmly against Shiro’s touch. The brunet let loose of a string of curses and moans, the words jumbling together in an indecipherable mess.

Shiro rumbled out a low moan as his false arm slid beneath Lance’s sinewy form, cradling the man and bringing him eagerly to the black paladin’s fingers. Shiro’s lips found home on Lance’s collarbone as Lance’s fingers buried in the sheets.

Everything around him was so vividly warm, his heart thumping in his ears and his body reacting in the only way it knew how…with unbridled pleasure. Shiro wasn’t selfish in his offerings of ecstasy, he seemed to feed off of every small sound that Lance managed to make, and he could feel the big man smiling against his skin.

How is this guy even real? Lance thought to himself frantically.

But he refused to overthink the little details. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t let his insecurities or overactive mind ruin this for him. He just wanted to enjoy the moment at hand. He needed this. He needed it so desperately.

Shiro’s index finger very gently prodded for entrance, the thick digit slipping into Lance’s apex with absolutely no resistance. The dark haired man could feel Lance’s walls tighten around his digit, squeezing very gently, and the man nearly went weak at the knees.

He was fraught with desire for the other man, the weight of it nearly crippling.

It took everything within him to refrain from shoving the beautiful young man into the mattress and taking him for all he was worth.

Shiro’s cock fattened at the idea, the member pressing painfully against the confines of his clothing.

No.

He wasn’t going to be an animal about this.

It didn’t matter how long it had been…or how badly he wanted this…he was going to make Lance feel absolutely safe first. He was going to make the young man feel so good.

A second finger joined the first, the stretch just a little more fulfilling and Lance was purring like a well fed housecat, his hips pressing down against Shiro’s digits blissfully.

“Mmm Shiro…” Lance mewled softly, his pretty eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

Shiro’s intelligent eyes traveled over the pretty, tanned length of his partner. He’d never really allowed himself to stop and fully appreciate just how gorgeous the blue paladin was. He’d never wanted to address this burning in his chest and the thunder of his heart when he lingered too long on the idea of Lance all around him. It didn’t matter now. Nobody had to know. Everything would stay right here in the confines of the small room and together, if only for a moment they could pretend they weren’t paladins for Voltron, they could forget the Galra, and the looming nature of the war. They could leave the fight behind and just exist. Together, without interruption.

Shiro shifted slightly and Lance cracked an eye open slowly, curious as to what the other man might be up to. His breath died on his tongue as he observed Shiro moving to lie on his stomach, the big man’s biceps hooking underneath Lance’s thighs, bringing the thin man’s core toward Shiro’s chin. Lance felt his stomach tighten.

Shiro caught Lance’s concerned expression.

“Is this ok?” Shiro asked very slyly, his tongue extending to lap a flat, slow, stripe over the entirety of Lance’s need.

Lance’s teeth snapped together as his hips pivoted involuntarily.

“YES! Yes, yes, yes YES!” Lance cried out as Shiro’s wet anatomy danced skillfully up and around his sensitive bundle of nerves.

Shiro smiled against the younger man’s mound, nuzzling between the soft folds, tongue very gently addressing Lance’s dick. Not too harsh, with just enough pressure to have Lance seeing stars. The rhythmic flick of the point of his tongue was everything Lance needed. He almost wanted to hold a grudge that Shiro was this good at everything but he really wasn’t in a position to complain.

Lance’s fingers hesitantly found the crown of Shiro’s head, burying in absurdly soft, short locks, his index finger traveling to card through the man’s long white bangs. Lance momentarily wondered what might have caused the discoloration, maybe the stress of the time he was held in Galra hands. Stress did strange things to people. But Lance found the strange coloration gorgeous. Half of him couldn’t quite wrap his head around the situation, his hand so gingerly placed on Shiro’s head while the other man offered him such selfless, unbridled pleasure.

Lance’s fingers tightened on the soft locks, earning him a muffled moan from Shiro that sent electricity up Lance’s spine.

Shiro looked up momentarily, the two men’s eyes meeting and Lance could feel his heart melt with the amount of absolute enthuse swimming in Shiro’s eyes. He looked viciously high on the entire situation, his eyes hooded and pleased as his tongue quickened its’ pace once more.

With that Lance could feel Shiro’s fingers slipping back into his body.

This time they were different though, smoother, harder, warmer.

Had he meant to use his Galra hand?

Lance wasn’t sure, but he did know that the smooth metal sliding against his walls felt unbelievably wonderful.

“Y-You’re prosthetic feels so good…” Lance mewled languidly.

Shiro hadn’t even realized which hand he was using.

Part of him was utterly appalled he’d forgotten and slipped the god forsaken Galra tech into his lover. Shiro really didn’t know how to feel about it. He wanted to take them out of the young man…but the way Lance fucked down onto the fake fingers made Shiro second guess.

Lance seemed to sense the other man’s hesitance.

“Really. I really like it.” Lance hummed as he moved his hips in small, lazy circles.

Shiro smiled and nodded.

Lance involuntarily pressed downward on Shiro’s head, hips forcing against the other man’s strong chin. Every breath Lance sucked down felt like swallowing fire, the heat burning through him as every muscle in his body tightened and coiled. His thighs tensed as his oncoming orgasm built within him. He was so close.

“D-Don’t stop…Shiro please don’t stop…” Lance managed to breathe, his voice shaky and broken.

Shiro’s fingers tightened their grip on lance as he focused his attention on only the man’s dick, pampering it was precise circles and flicks all the while his metal fingers still pumping into the warm orifice provided.

The fingers suddenly felt even warmer, their heat pleasant and welcome as Lance rode them.

Everything in Lance’s lower half tautened, the pleasure constricting him like some invisible hand. All he could hear was his own heart, his fingers forcefully tangled in Shiro’s hair, almost to the point of painful but Shiro dared not complain. Lance ground down on Shiro’s mouth, the young man’s eyes screwed shut and his lips hanging in a wide oval.

“ S-Shiro, I’m gunnna come, fuck I’m gunna come!!” Lance cried loudly, his hips rising suddenly.

Shiro held the young man in place, determined to tip him right over the edge, his tongue never losing its pace.

And then he was there.

Everything within Lance came together like a thunderclap. His walls tensed and tightened, flexing with the hard orgasm as it ripped through him. His walls clasped around Shiro’s false fingers, the sensation registering to Shiro despite not really being able to feel it.

Lance was crying Shiro’s name like some old world prayer, the syllables falling off his tongue so easy and wanting. Shiro had half a mind to hush him, because hell was the young man loud, and if anybody just so happened to walk by there would be no mistake of what was happening within…but Shiro couldn’t find it in himself to do so. He needed to hear him, he wanted the young man moaning his name over and over again.

What a selfish thing and yet Shiro couldn’t find the will to care.

The big man cradled Lance gently, allowing the young man to fuck down onto his fingers, riding out the recoils of his orgasm lewdly. Lance was mewling and moaning, moving so beautifully against Shiro as he enjoyed the finish to its fullest.

Shiro pampered the young man’s hips with gracious kisses, whispering to him just how gorgeous Lance was, just how important and wonderful he was. Lance fed off the praise hungrily.

Lance was made aware of the sound of a zipper being ripped down, the jingle of Shiro’s belt kissing his ears tenderly. Lance very slowly opened his eyes to watch as Shiro began frantically undoing his pants, not so gracefully shoving them and his boxers down strong thighs.

Lance giggled slightly as the other man finally freed himself of the cumbersome clothing and wasted no time in tugging Lance eagerly toward him.

The big man’s heavy cock bobbed livid and red before him, his head glistening with wetness. Lance leaned forward, his curious hand curling around the girth of his partner’s thick shaft. A loud rumble of a moan slipped past Shiro’s teeth as Lance’s fingers glided up the length of him, his thumb coming to tease at his underside, successfully gathering more pre from Shiro’s tip.

“How is everything on you this big?” Lance purred teasingly in the other’s ear.

Shiro barked out a laugh.

“Do you have a con-…do…Ahh HA!” Shiro began but his words trailed off into pleased moans as Lance squeezed his eager cock, his ring of fingers stroking Shiro meanly.

“A condom?” Lance said grinning deviously.

Shiro nodded weakly.

“Yeah. In the top drawer.” Lance purred as he gathered Shiro’s lips passionately.

Shiro pushed into the kiss eagerly, half of him not wanting to move away from the tawny man’s warmth to fetch the said condom. Shiro groaned against Lance as he kissed him again and again, his mouth getting sidetracked on the thrum of Lance’s pulse, sucking and nipping at the beautiful flesh.

“Well?” Lance sniggered.

“Right. On it.” Shiro chuckled sheepishly.

Shiro hefted himself out of bed and quickly crossed the room to collect the protection. Shiro plucked the unopened box from the drawer and tore the packaging open impatiently. He really wasn’t sure why the young man even had these, did he figure there was the possibility of getting laid in space? Well…he wasn’t wrong, Shiro thought with a snort.

The big man returned to his limber partner quickly, teeth ripping the small foil package open clumsily. Lance watched with enthuse as Shiro rolled the latex down the breadth of his erection and then was resuming his position tightly pressed to Lance’s body.

Lance kissed the bridge of Shiro’s nose, right along the scar, a wanton smile hung across his slim lips.

“ Fuck me.” Lance whispered in the big man’s ear.

Shiro shuddered as the words hit his senses.

They were like molten gold as they rolled over him, thick and nasty and everything he needed them to be.

Shiro grabbed Lance by the hips, and Lance winced just slightly as the other man caught one of his bruises collected from the sparring bot. Between the bot and Shiro he was sure he’d look like a black and blue mess by the morning. Not that he was complaining.

Shiro aligned his head with Lance’s dripping entrance and pressed the first few inches in. Everything in him wanted to thrust forward, but he refrained. Lance hung his arms around Shiro’s neck, tugging the black paladin in, getting his teeth on the other man’s skin. Shiro moaned out loudly, hips stuttering forward. Lance cried out at the stretch, his tightness accommodating the large intrusion.

Shiro chewed his lip hard, Lance was so tight.

He really wasn’t sure how long he could possibly last with Lance clenching around him, his cock already growing more solid with the advancement. In his defense it had been a while.

Shiro thrust forward gently, burying himself to the hilt within his partner and Lance moaned out lazily, his voice pleased and high.

Shiro’s arms enveloped Lance as the black paladin’s hips rolled into him, very slowly at first but Lance could tell he was hesitating.

Lance pressed his hips down, rotating them in a slow circle and Shiro’s eyes fluttered backward in his head.

Shiro could already feel the undeniable burn in his abdomen, his stomach tight and his cock impossibly hard.

“L-Lance…I’m not going to last very long. I’m sorry. You’re just so tight.” Shiro panted, his brows pressed together in embarrassment.

Lance pressed several kisses against Shiro’s cheek.

“That’s ok.” Lance grinned.

“Stop holding back.” Lance demanded with a pivot of his hips.

Shiro nodded, his big palms stern on Lance’s skinny frame as he dragged him toward his thrusts. The large man found his frantic pace, hips snapping into the younger man ruthlessly. Lance’s moans grew in velocity as Shiro fucked into him. Hard and mean and determined.

His Galra arm was gripping too tightly, but Lance wanted the sting. He wanted the ache. All he could focus on was Shiro’s pace and how full he was with the other man inside of him.

Shiro growled and latched his teeth onto Lance’s throat a little too roughly.

Lance could barely make out the rough phrases spilling from Shiro’s mouth, they were just jumbled things all tangled together in his pleasure.

His thrusts were strong against Lance, each one jarring him into the mattress. The wet slap of skin and the deep huff of Shiro’s breathing surrounded him pleasantly. He let it all soak in, let it all eat him up. Lance hooked his ankles behind the small of Shiro’s back and simply allowed the bigger man to have him. This was the Shiro he was hungry for. The one that lived in his head for such an obscenely long time. This was the Shiro that couldn’t control himself around the blue paladin. This was the Shiro that fucked him in closets and against doors. This was the Shiro that breathed hot phrases in his ear that would make a grown man blush.

This was everything he’d ever wanted Shiro to be.

It all came into blossoming reality as Shiro marked him with eager teeth, hips never stopping their frantic pace.

And then the man’s face screwed into a look of deep concentration, brows knitted together and mouth slightly open.

Rough declarations of Lance’s name filled his breath as his hips stuttered forward, shoving in as deep as he could, as if searching for Lance’s core. Lance could feel the other man’s cock grow harder, and finally the sensation of Shiro flexing within him, unloading everything he had to give.

Shiro moaned out pitifully, rocking halfheartedly into his partner as he rode his orgasm. Lance clenched around Shiro meanly, milking the big man for all he was worth as he kissed and nipped at his shoulder. Shiro sagged, his comeshots waning in power and finally leaving him deflated and spent. He was almost ashamed of how fast he’d spilt his pleasure, but he was too sated to really give it much thought.

Lance’s fingers stroked through Shiro’s hair as they held each other, as if neither really wanted to disconnect from the moment. It was too good to let go of just yet.

Shiro’s tired eyes finally came open, and as soon as they settled on Lance a pleased grin joined his expression.

The question seemed to loom in the air of “what now?”

As Shiro very gently pulled himself from Lance’s confines, tying the full condom off and disposing of it in the trash can, it was made clear the man didn’t plan on going anywhere. Instead he settled himself down next to Lance, pulling him close as slow kisses were shared.

“I guess you’re sleeping over huh?” Lance whispered tiredly.

Shiro paused.

“If…that’s ok?” Shiro questioned.

Lance nodded.

“Please stay.” The young man said with a smile as he curled into the warmth of the other paladin.

Shiro nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The next morning came all too soon as Lance stirred in the warmth of his comforters. Suddenly everything came rushing back to him like a tidal wave having broken the dam. Had everything just been a dream? Panic rose up in his throat.

And then he rolled over, hands searching for the bed partner that had been there the night previous.

His fingers collided with something solid and he felt all the breath leave him in one shallow whoosh.

Shiro stirred against the touch, tired eyes coming open very slowly.

And then a sleepy smile was offered to Lance.

“Goodmorning.” Shiro mumbled quietly.

Lance smiled.

He hated to admit how much he really did enjoy the rough, sleepy tenor of the other man’s voice.

“Morning.” Lance parroted gently.

“I guess we should go find some breakfast.” Shiro said with a large stretch.

Lance nodded.

The young man very carefully hefted himself out of bed and was suddenly painfully aware of how sore he was. He grimaced as he looked over himself, his hips were tinged dark with solid bruises and as he touched over himself, there really wasn’t a spot on him that wasn’t tender. It was a mystery as to which parts hurt from the sparring bot and which parts hurt from other things.

He groaned.

Shiro watched with concerned eyes.

“Was I too rough?” Shiro asked in worry.

Lance snorted as he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers.

“No. Just, maybe wasn’t a great idea to get beat up by a sparring bot, then beat up by you.” Lance teased.

Shiro frowned as he clambered out of bed.

“I’m sorry.” Shiro said as he crossed the room to run big palms over slender shoulders.

Lance rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, stop apologizing.” Lance insisted.

“Ok.” Shiro chuckled placing a small kiss to Lance’s forehead.

The mess hall was bustling with activity by the time the blue and black paladin’s joined the rest of the group. It was business as usual, the table lined with different dishes that Hunk had conjured up that the paladin's were always eager to try.

Lance was suddenly aware of just how hungry he was as his stomach growled ravenously. He really didn’t eat much yesterday, it was high time to get a good meal into him.

The young man pulled out a chair next to Keith and grimaced as he lowered himself down into it.

Keith’s eyes watched the other man intelligently, the pain of movement made clear across the cuban's face. The black haired man could see the ugly bruises peeking out of Lance’s collar and he scoffed.

“That really was a stupid move turning that bot up so high. Hope you learned your lesson.” Keith spat shaking his head.

Lance felt his stomach churn and heat fill his cheeks.

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but was quickly cut short as Shiro took a seat to his other side.

“Of course he learned his lesson. He just needs a little more training and he’ll take the bot on no problem. He’ll be training with me for the next week. We will get you up to speed. Soon your fighting will be as good as your shooting.” Shiro said kindly as he rested his hand on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance looked to Shiro with wide, thankful eyes and after a short moment, finally nodded.

“Thanks Shiro.” He whispered with a bright smile.