Voltron Legendary Defender - Closer to the Edge [Chapter 1] [Shance | Kallura]

[scriveyner]

Title: Closer to the Edge (Chapter 1)
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
Characters/Pairing: Lance/Shiro, Keith/Allura
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 10661
Summary: Keith's heat is strong enough this time to even affect Lance...



Lance woke up because his nose itched.

Irritated, he rubbed at his nose blearily and shifted slightly in the bed; an action that made Shiro mutter sleepily and curl around him, his arm tightening protectively over Lance’s chest. Lance yawned and smiled drowsily, as content as he could ever be safe in the arms of his mate - and he was just drifting off to sleep again when the itch returned with a vengeance. He grumbled and scrubbed at his nose with the palm of his hand, displacing the eye mask he wore to block out the dim teal running lights they couldn’t shut off, and that invasion of illumination successfully roused him enough he knew he wasn’t going back to sleep.

It was difficult to slither out from under Shiro’s arm. Lance had never thought of Shiro as a cuddler until he started sharing a bed with him. He was absolutely not in any way complaining about it though, but Shiro was probably twice as thick as Lance and that was all muscle. If he wasn’t careful sometimes when trying to wiggle out of Shiro’s embrace it could lead to a sleepy fight-or-flight reaction from Shiro and, holy hell, Shiro’s left hook resulted in a small indent in the wall above their heads.

It had devastated Shiro that he nearly took Lance’s head off in his sleep, however, Lance was more concerned if Shiro had broken his fucking hand or not.

At this point Lance had perfected a slide that allowed him to reach the small shelf inset into the wall above their heads and locate his phone to check the time. It was early, though not so ungodly early it would be unheard of to be out of bed and about, but ... his beauty sleep. Lance sighed because he knew getting back to sleep was a pipe dream at this point and instead took the time to wiggle the rest of the way out of Shiro’s arms, slipping out of their shared room and toward the head.

It had been six months now they were together. Six glorious months, and Lance was as happy as one could be. He was caught in the middle of an intergalactic civil war and they lived under the constant threat of capture or death, but, hey, he found himself a mate and they had fantastic, mind-blowing sex on the regular and oh yeah he was just about the best person Lance had ever met in his life and he was freaking head over heels in love with him. Lance smiled sleepily as he relieved himself. One of his favorite things to do now was to imagine bringing Shiro home to his family and introducing them all. His mother would insist on a traditional wedding, he was certain, and Lance was firmly in her camp on the matter.

The thought of Shiro in a white tailored tuxedo with a purple waistcoat was making his smile turn dangerously sappy when Lance realized that he was rubbing his nose again and stopped mid-train of thought. He lowered his hand and looked at it, and then carefully inhaled. He wasn’t congested, or felt vaguely sneeze-y, so there was no reason at all for his nose to be itching like this.

In fact, the only thing that made his nose itch like that was Shiro’s heats. He wasn’t on his heat right now, his heat was regular enough they both had a good idea of when it would hit and could plan accordingly. So if it wasn’t Shiro’s heat that was bothering, that meant ...

... Keith.

Lance stood in the gleaming white communal bathroom and stared at the tile above the facilities, trying to reconcile the thought. He knew now that Keith was an omega of course, but that information had hardly been relevant to his life once he claimed Shiro. Keith’s heats hadn’t bothered him at all, presumably because he and Shiro were now a mated pair, but he really had no idea how any of this worked. He hadn’t paid that much attention in his anatomy courses.

In fact, outside of Shiro’s heat before they’d mated, he’d never scented another omega’s heat before. So, this was new and unusual and potentially alarming. Now that he had identified the source, the itch lessened, and he could smell that it was Keith, faint and thready but potent enough to draw him through the halls of the Castleship until Lance stood outside Keith’s quarters at way too fucking early for this o’clock.

Keith was with Allura now, and Lance was fairly certain that they had kept their relationship a secret from just him, specifically. Now that Lance was officially with Shiro though, no one seemed to care about keeping any relationships under wraps. It was nice to have it all out in the open, but man was it weird to see them together. Especially because if he didn’t already know they were a couple, he didn’t think he’d be able to tell - other than the fact that Keith occasionally stood closer to Allura than normal.

So. What exactly was his plan, here? Knock on the door and see who was in what state of undressed and tell Keith to, what, get his shit together and not be in heat? He couldn’t help that. Maybe Pidge’s slapdash suppressants had failed, or he’d simply run out and she hadn’t had a chance to make more. Lance sighed and folded his arms, looking up and down the hallway while trying to decide on the best course of action. Finally, he turned and walked away from Keith’s door. It was really none of his business after all.

Since he was up, Lance instead headed for the galley. If he returned to his room he ran the risk of waking Shiro, and the man pushed himself too much as it was. There was a fairly decent chance that Hunk would already be up and starting on breakfast, and if he was then Lance could help him out. His path to the kitchen took him right past one of the entrances to the training deck and oh boy that was like walking directly into a wall of solid pheromones. Lance stopped dead in his tracks, almost blinded by the thick, heady scent of needy omega, before comically turning and marching toward the door.

When the doors slid apart the scent got even thicker, a fact that Lance would have never guessed possible, and based on the sheer amount of need he was expecting maybe a full-on omega orgy but instead was greeted with Keith, stripped naked to the waist and his bayard in hand as he fought six gladiator bots.

He'd clearly been at this for some time as his sweat and musk was thick in the air and slick on his skin, and Lance watched slightly mesmerized as Keith didn't stop or slow down, dancing between the gladiator bots with ease. When he felled them, they shut down in acknowledgement of the critical hits before rebooting and rising to begin the training session anew.

Lance watched Keith whittle his opponents down from six to one, only to watch them rise again and again. Keith could shut off the training program at any time he wanted so he was clearly and deliberately exhausting himself. And, god help him, he was fucking hot while doing so.

Keith slid around a gladiator bot with deceptive grace, taking it down with practiced ease and, when he turned he caught sight of Lance leaning in the open doorway, watching him. This caused a minute hesitation which ended up costing him as a gladiator bot rounded on him, catching Keith with the blunt end of its staff. Lance started to move forward on pure instinct, hand held out for his own bayard to manifest before he remembered, duh, he was still in his pajamas and the closest thing he had to an offensive weapon was a pair of fuzzy Blue Lion slippers.

It was better than nothing. Lance threw one at the gladiator bot advancing on Keith's six.

The slipper slapped loudly into the side of the gladiator bot's head with all the effectiveness of a wet paper towel. The erstwhile projectile weapon flopped harmlessly to the floor, and both the gladiator bot and Keith stopped and stared at Lance, who shrugged.

Keith, however, took advantage of the momentary pause in the gladiator bot's processing - trying to determine if Lance was to be included in the training regiment, no doubt - and disabled the gladiator bot by putting the bayard's sword straight through its neck. Standing amid the disabled training bots Keith ordered the simulation to end, chest heaving.

Lance padded over to retrieve his slipper but Keith beat him to it, picking it up and holding it, turning a not-entirely-pleased expression on Lance. "What," Keith said, the bare adrenaline making his voice ragged, "the hell, Lance."

"You needed someone on your six," Lance said. "I distracted it." He folded his arms and jutted his chin out. "It's not my fault you got overwhelmed when I peeked my head in to see what all the racket was. Gimme my slipper back."

"Okay, first of all," Keith said, holding up one finger on the hand that was holding Lance's slipper hostage, "I wasn't distracted by you. Let's get that straight."

"You weren't distracted," Lance said, eyebrow arched and in complete disbelief.

"I wasn't distracted," Keith repeated firmly.

"Well in that case it's even worse than I thought, because you were getting your butt whooped by gladiator bots," Lance said, and noted with satisfaction how Keith bristled.

"Second," Keith said through clenched teeth, "I don't want to see you near me at all right now, so. Go. Away."

Lance blinked once, slowly. He could almost see the stink rising off Keith, potent and furious and so needy. It was, frankly, ridiculous. "Your heat smells way different than Shiro's this time," he said. "What's going on?"

He wasn't sure what Keith was expecting him to say in response to the 'go away' but that clearly wasn't on the list. Keith stared at him and then, unexpectedly blushed. It was more pink than the heady flush that exertion gave him, and Keith looked away, anger making his flush go dark. Without a word, he thrust Lance's slipper out, holding it in front of himself and waving it slightly, intending for Lance to take it and, as he said, go away.

Lance was not going to go away. No way, no how. He and Keith had, at some point in the preceding year, come to accords in that they were what might generously be called friends, even if on some level Lance still felt like he was competing with Keith.

While needling Keith was wonderfully cathartic, if there was actually something wrong it needed to be addressed. "Look, man, are you okay?" he said. "This is the first time I could smell your heat from clear across the castle, maybe you oughta, I dunno, get some canoodling time in with Allura or something."

It was always an accomplishment to make Keith blush and he was two for two already - this time, though, the colors he turned were both amazing and completely unexpected. His flush started to go so dark it was almost purple, around his temples and back into his hair. "Allura can't help with this," he muttered, finally. "Just, leave me alone, Lance. Please."

Lance was paying less attention to the words and more to the now-vivid violet that ran across Keith's skin. Keith immediately recognized the scrutiny and turned, Lance's slipper still in hand, and folded his arms tight to himself as if that would protect him from Lance's gaze. "Forget it," Keith muttered, as the purple faded off his skin and Lance suddenly put three and five together.

"Is this a Galra thing?" he asked, and Keith flinched.

Keith didn't always like to acknowledge his Galra heritage. They were all acutely aware of Allura's initial reaction to the news - and while she had come around, in time, recognizing that Keith had no control over the origin of his blood or the nature of his birth - it had still been an uncomfortable time between. Now they had shacked up. Lance could only imagine the conversations that happened behind closed doors.

"No," Keith said hotly, still turned away from Lance. He held his shoulders tight and straight for a long moment before relaxing them, finally. "Yes," he said, sounding defeated. "My heat's weird. It's different this time. The suppressants aren't working, and Pidge can't figure out why."

"That's ... weird," Lance said.

"Yeah." Keith looked away. "Pidge said she was gonna work on it when she and Allura got back."

Lance stared at Keith. "You let Allura and Pidge go off alone?" Lance said, alarmed and already making planes to rouse Shiro.

"They're fine," Keith said. "Pidge just needed to pick up some extra parts for her project, and Coran had a list of shit he needed from the Space Mall so Allura volunteered to go with her. That's all." Keith stared at Lance, and Lance knew that Keith knew that Pidge was definitely up to something, so whatever reason he had for letting the two of them fuck off on their own he wasn't going to share willingly. After a long moment of this silent stare-off, he looked away again and flushed, hard. "I don't think Allura wants to be around me while I'm like this," he said finally, the anger and hurt heavy in his voice.

Oh, no.

Lance was halfway to the door on autopilot, his brain already three jumps ahead and somewhere into how, exactly, he was going to explain to Shiro that he was dead because he got into a yelling match with Allura and she broke his neck, when Keith caught him by the arm and yanked back and ow, he had quite a grip. "Lance!" Keith said, strangled. "Don't, you'll only make things worse..."

His voice trailed off because he clearly wasn't sure what else he was going to say to Lance, which was fine because Lance was staring at him and, more accurately, staring at Keith's hand on Lance's arm and feeling the pinpricks of strange energy at the connection between them. "It's okay," Keith said finally, but he didn't let go of Lance's arm. "I mean, I appreciate it but I get it, I wouldn't want to be around me while I'm like this either..."

"That is bullshit," Lance said, hissing through his teeth. And, okay, maybe he had ignored the way that omegas were treated on Earth because it didn't affect him, thinking that he was a beta all his life, but being around Shiro and now knowing... and as much as he hated to admit it he did actually count Keith as a friend, and anyone treating him any different because of his endotype was about to meet the business end of Lance's bayard. "I can't believe she'd treat you like that because you're an omega and you go into heat."

"It's not ... it's not just that," Keith said. "It's fine, we're fine." He looked away again, and then realized that Lance wasn't about to just let this go, especially when he was hanging onto Lance's arm like he was. "It's just, the whole..." he released Lance's arm finally, to wave his hand in the air demonstratively. Lance knew what he meant. "I mean, we've talked about it plenty and she..." he turned red again, a brilliant, scorching red, "she likes the whole heat thing, it's the Galra thing she's not a fan of."

"Well, fuck her," Lance said. "That's a part of you and she liked you plenty as a person before she knew where half ... or LESS! You don't look Galra at all so it could be even LESS than half your genes-"

Keith groaned very loudly but it didn't interrupt Lance's tirade; though he did pause, trailing off in confusion when Keith stuck his bayard in his teeth and grabbed the waistline of his pants with both hands and yanked down.

Okay, that stopped Lance's brain dead in its tracks, his gaze fixed tight on the space between Keith's legs.

They had been on this ship for nearly a year now, and the showers weren’t divided by gender. Pidge had absolutely zero qualms about walking into the midst of them congregating buck naked in the locker room after their showers, which inevitably led to clearing the room in near-record times. But he had definitely seen Keith's bits before, and while he hadn’t checked out the package deal (that was gay,and he could hear Shiro and Hunk rolling their eyes from here), he did have a general idea of who had what dangly bits.

That being said, Lance would have noticed the fact that Keith's bits were this ... different.

His cock was soft, and even so Lance could clearly see how much thicker it was, and how pronounced the alien ridges were that started halfway down his shaft. That was all very different of course, but that was also discounting the fact that his dick was very, unmistakably, purple.

"...what the fuck," Lance said, his voice escaping in a squeak.

"Yeah," Keith said, bayard still held in his teeth. "Tell me about it."

#

"When did this happen?" Lance asked, seated on the edge of Keith's bed in the most dangerous territory of Keith's room. The entire enclosed area stank of him and his heat, but Lance was mated, and his scent shouldn't affect him like it was. Still, it made it difficult for him to focus, but Keith was in distress and needed him to be present, so he focused. "And, why did you have to - fucking - drop trou and give me the whole show? I could have lived the rest of my life without having that seared into my brain, dude."

He watched as Keith pulled on a clean shirt that was probably just a hair too tight and thought idly to himself that Keith had filled out more since they had arrived at the Castleship; there was more definition to his back and shoulders now. And he was staring, so Lance dragged his mind back on track and back where it was supposed to be. "Did you show Shiro? I bet he feels left out." Keith's shoulders went taut, but Lance had already blown right past and kept going. "I mean, I can't believe an alien dumped you for having an alien dick. Is that racist? That feels racist."

"Allura didn't dump me," Keith said, deciding apparently that the last thing was the least complex thing for him to handle. "We're just..." He shrugged loosely and sighed again, and Lance realized this explained the strange funk that had descended on the ship over the last few days. He was just too busy planning his yet un-discussed fantasy romantic beach wedding to actually notice where all the Mood was coming from. "Waiting to see what happens with it, I guess."

"How long have you been on this Galra heat?" Lance put his hands on his knees. "Because, you know, today it woke me out of a sound sleep."

Keith snorted "A couple days, maybe," he said, and had the wherewithal to at least look a little sheepish. "Probably all the hormones in the air from me getting riled up, sorry." His flush had almost faded by now, although there was a faint rose tint to his features that may have just been a manifestation of his heat. Lance couldn't remember the last heat he had seen Keith in, so he didn't know what the baseline was. Keith kept that shit on lock. "I can't believe it woke you, though."

"I know," Lance said, and the irritation crept into his voice despite himself. "I'm mated, your heats shouldn't affect me at all." There was no mistaking the flinch when he said that, and Lance scowled. "You know, you had your chance to be pissed off about Shiro's choice already," he said, and Keith looked away, his mouth closed into a thin, tight line.

"It's not about his choice," he said.

"Yeah, I know your opinion of me," Lance folded his arms. This was an argument he had built up in his head so many times and in so many different ways since Shiro first showed Keith his claim mark, but he'd never had a chance to have it before now. As in all things, however, it was turning out slightly different than he'd anticipated.

"It's not about you at all," Keith snapped. "I just don't think it's a good idea for Shiro to be bonded that quickly, okay? He's da-" Keith abruptly shut his mouth, cutting himself off and glaring at the floor instead of at Lance.

"What? What were you going to say, Keith, he's damaged goods or something?" Lance was angry. Angrier than he'd been at hearing about how Allura effectively dumped Keith for something entirely out of his control. "I'm giving you exactly three seconds to try to change my mind about tearing your throat out for insulting my mate to my face."

"Calm down," Keith said tersely. "That's not at all what I meant and you know it." He kept his distance from Lance though, keeping his back to the wall. "His family fucked him up good, he told you about that at least, right?"

Shiro had. In little bits and pieces, small nuggets of information scattered across days, weeks, months - to the point where it had taken a little while for Lance to put together the extent of it. If they ever did get back to Earth, there was a long list of people who were Not Invited To The Wedding, and once he relayed the tale to his family there was going to be an entire branch just waiting for someone on the list to show up so they could dole out Immediate Justice.

Shiro had laughed when Lance told him of his plans, brushing Lance's hair back and kissing his forehead and telling him that Lance was all the family he ever needed, and he just wanted to let the past stay buried.

Lance, on the other hand, liked the idea of hitting those people a little too much. Man, the testosterone boost from his presentation had really screwed with him more than he liked to admit. "I have a long list of people who are meeting with sticky ends if we ever cross paths, if that's what you're getting at," he said, and Keith blinked at him and then, surprisingly, smiled.

"You realize that doesn't sound anything at all like a threat coming from you, right? You're not intimidating at all."

"Go on, keep laying out my shortcomings, Keith. I'll wait. You have a purple alien dick, I think I'll live."

They glared at each other for a moment longer, but then it was Keith who sighed and broke the tension. "I've known Shiro for a very long time," he said. "I just worry about him, okay? It's not you, Lance, I can promise you. I can't think of anyone else I know that can bring him peace the way you do."

Lance's mouth snapped shut before the asshole remark he had prepared could escape, and he stared at Keith, completely dumbfounded. "Was that ... was that a genuine compliment?" Lance said, stunned. "Did you just, are you saying that you approve of our relationship?"

"Can we just drop it?" Keith asked, and Lance's dumbfounded expression shifted immediately into glee.

"Well then," he said, drawing his knees together and resting his palms on them. "Guess I will have to invite you to the wedding after all."

"Wonderful," Keith muttered dryly.

In the time that they had been talking together, there had been a noticeable shift in Keith's scent. It had gone from the thick, musky scent that had completely distracted Lance to something softer, subtler ... and definitely more enticing. Lance had categorized the scent of his heat and had been rather blatantly ignoring it, but the way it was fluctuating now drew his attention back to it and his brow furrowed. "Anything else weird about this heat?" he asked as casually as he could get away with, and Keith shook his head negatively.

"You mean aside from my purple alien dick?"

"Nothing else has turned purple, right? No ears or tail or mane growing in, you haven't developed fangs or claws..."

Keith looked thoughtful. "Have you ever seen a Galra with a mane?"

"Well, no," Lance said, "but some of them are kinda scaly and look like turtles that crawled out of the primeval ooze and others are furry and look like someone got too intimate with bat and really, the only unifying trait is that everyone is purple. So. I don't know, maybe there are some Galra out there sporting glorious L'Oreal manes and we just haven't run across them yet. You don't know."

Keith was still smiling softly, fondly, and it was starting to wig Lance out just a little bit. "Lance, thanks for taking my mind off things," he said. Lance tilted his head.

"God, there is something weird going on with you," he said. "Gratitude? Approval? Who are you and what have you done with Keith?" There was another shift in his scent and this time Lance couldn't pin down the difference, just that it was different. This was completely frustrating, and Lance felt a strange pull in his chest, he wanted to get up and touch Keith and oh, let's pack that thought away for a hot minute because holy shit. "We need to get Allura on the same page," he said, desperate to try to distract himself. "See if she can't shape-shift a magic Altean dick to keep you satisfied during your heat, Galra or no Galra."

Keith didn't respond to that and Lance squinted at him. He was staring at Lance, a strange expression caught on his face - and after a moment Lance recognized it. He had seen that exact same expression before - on Shiro, when he was sprawled out on a bed and begging to be claimed by Lance. It was utterly disconcerting and wrong for Keith to be wearing that same expression, and Lance waved his hand in the air, hoping to dispel whatever it was that was affecting Keith. "Keith," Lance said carefully, because alpha or not Keith did have muscle on him and he didn't actually want a fight.

Lance's voice did something, because Keith shook his head sharply, and his expression returned to normal. "Sorry," Keith said, and Lance stood, his hands curled into white-knuckled fists.

"I should go."

Keith didn't say anything else or make a move to stop him, as he left.

#

They'd never had cause to talk about others.

It wasn't a discussion that Lance even knew how to have. He wasn't interested in other people, not like he had been before. Sure, he still flirted with quite a few of the aliens on planets that Voltron had liberated; but it was a harmless flirtation, he didn't intend for it to go anywhere and Shiro knew that (although he still occasionally smacked Lance in the shoulder when Lance was laying it on particularly thick). Shiro wore his claim mark proudly, the skin having grown hard and dark over the impression of Lance's teeth. So it wasn't really something he'd considered, especially not in regards to his own rival turned arch-nemesis turned friend…ish. He absolutely was not interested in Keith like that, no how no way.

Except...

Now he kept thinking about Keith's eyes, and the hungry emptiness in them, clearly just waiting for an alpha to claim him like Shiro had been. Lance had teased Keith and Allura about their relationship, but it seemed plainly obvious now that it must be more traditional than Lance expected. That meant that while Keith was having a great time nailing the last princess of Altea he was also missing out deeply on getting thoroughly fucked and wrecked in the way only omegas could.

Shiro was awake by the time Lance returned to their room, sitting up cross-legged in the bed and with one of the Castleship's datapads in his hand, displaying holographic teal text. "Good morning," Shiro said, lifting his attention from whatever report he was perusing to greet Lance. Lance stood just inside the door and smiled at Shiro, feeling instantly at ease, and like everything made sense again. Without prompting, he crawled back into bed beside him, leaning against Shiro's left side and glancing at the projected text with disinterest. Shiro looped his left arm over Lance's shoulders and pulled him close, nuzzling his face against the side of Lance's head and immediately sensing his turmoil. "What's wrong?"

"Something's up with Keith," Lance said, and closed his eyes. Shiro's warmth was familiar and comforting, and it was orienting his priorities in the right direction. This was his mate, his omega, the single fixed point that his entire galaxy revolved around.

And yet, he still struggled how to communicate to Shiro when things were bothering him, because he felt like he was the alpha and it was his responsibility to have his shit figured out by now.

"What kind of something?" Shiro didn't sound as concerned as Lance thought he would, so he put one hand on Shiro's side and pushed him slightly, so that he could actually look at him. At least he didn't start out with 'what did you do?' because that would have actually made Lance angry.

"I think he's having problems with Allura," Lance opened with, because it wasn't entirely a lie. "He looked really out of sorts, he'd been in the training room all morning when I peeked in."

Shiro looked up and then tapped the datapad, which changed the text from a readout of ship functions to the ship's internal chronometer. It was still early, by the ship's log. "All morning?" Shiro said dryly.

Shiro was being a pedantic little shit today. "I don't think he slept," Lance clarified.

Okay, that definitely rated higher on Shiro's concern scale. Shiro cared very deeply for Keith, and they had a close bond that Lance once mistook for an actual romantic relationship, so Shiro knew Keith's quirks inside and out ... and that he knew precisely what it meant when Keith chose training over sleep. He tapped the corner of his datapad against his knee as he considered this new information. "So what did he tell you?"

"It's his heat," Lance said, and felt weird about being the one to tell this to Shiro, like he was betraying Keith's trust. Keith never specifically said not to tell Shiro, and they'd been in cahoots about their heats legitimately since before Lance presented as alpha, so he didn't know why he felt so worried. "It's different this time, and he thinks it has something to do with his Galra blood." His nose itched again, faint and shameful, but Lance rubbed it anyway and Shiro didn't notice. "I can smell him."

Shiro grew quiet and gave Lance a concerned look. "Are you scenting him?"

Scenting was an act that alphas did with omegas that they potentially wanted to mate. It was not a complex process, and in and of itself wasn't sexual, but ... it tended to lead to things. Lance knew that much at least, although he had never scented anyone aside from Shiro that he was aware of. He shook his head, slowly at first and then decisively. "I've never scented anyone," he said hotly, and still snuggled tight against Shiro's side. "Except you, of course."

When Shiro didn't respond, his head tilted forward so that Lance couldn't see his eyes, Lance leaned in close and put his hands on Shiro's jaw, turning his face to Lance. "I don't want to scent Keith anyway, Shiro, I love you<. You're my mate."

Shiro stared at him quietly, and there was something mournful in his eyes that Lance didn't understand. But he smiled, even if the smile spread slowly, and brushed his hand back through Lance's hair, drawing their faces in close. Shiro kissed so, so aggressively; even in his soft, passionate kisses and Lance loved it. He loved how Shiro dominated their interactions and even during his heats Shiro often, technically, topped. He did not give up himself or control lightly, and he rarely acted like the needy omegas in the porn they used to stream back at the Garrison - he was still Shiro, even if he wanted to fuck himself out on Lance's cock and get knotted.

"I love you too," Shiro murmured, pushing Lance back into the bed and kissing him again. "My alpha."

#

It was unusual that the galley would still be empty when Lance chose to wander back in that direction after his shower. He was surprised that Hunk wasn't cooking breakfast, but after scrounging for some of the crisp, hard cakes that tasted like oatmeal Lance headed back in the direction of the pilot's quarters to look for his best friend. The biggest of the Altean mice - Platt, Lance had overheard Coran calling it - rode on his shoulder and helped Lance eat his breakfast. When he arrived at the door to Hunk's room Platt scampered off, carrying the last few bites of the flat cake triumphantly in its mouth.

Hunk didn't answer his door when Lance knocked, so he popped the control panel and punched in the override code Pidge had programmed into the system that he wasn't supposed to know about. "Coming in," he announced, as the door whooshed open to reveal Hunk's very empty room. "…huh," Lance said, his hands on his hips and glancing around at the clutter. "Where’d you go, big guy?"

His next stop was the bridge. By this time of the morning he could find either Coran or Allura at the helm of the Castleship, doing the daily flight logs and making course corrections as they puttered around the outer edge of a solar system and hopefully well under the Empire's radar for the time being. Coran was there, as Lance expected, given that Allura had apparently fucked off on a resupply mission. "Good morning, Paladin!" Coran said, cheerful and chipper as ever and Lance acknowledged him as he glanced around the bridge.

"Mornin', Coran," he said and yawned despite himself. He'd been up early, true, but Shiro was very demanding and by now Lance's energy reserves were a little low. "You seen Hunk anywhere?"

"Hunk accompanied the Princess and Pidge on their mission to resupply," Coran said, matter-of-fact as always. "I can open a communications channel if you wish to speak with them! They should be back in a few quintants, according to the Princess."

"Shiro's gonna flip when he finds out everyone fucked off on a multi-day mall-crawl," Lance said, amused.

"He's going to flip what?" Coran asked, distracted.

"His stack," Lance clarified, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and rocking on his feet. He squinted up at the viewscreen, which was set on just the trajectory display, the tracking lines centered on the infinite empty vastness of space, and managed to miss entirely the strange look Coran gave him.

"What stack is he flipping, does he require assistance? I have the flight logs to complete and then the teludav needs some required maintenance before we wormhole again-"

"What? No," Lance shook his head, drawn back into the conversation. "No, Coran, it's just an expression. "Flipping his stack is like, uh," he tried to remember which particular bits of vernacular they'd introduced Coran to, and was coming up empty. "Like 'go off,' I guess."

"Oh," Coran snapped his fingers. "Like glibbering the mombers!"

Sometimes Lance was certain that Coran just slammed syllables together to mock them. "Um, sure, I guess."

So Allura, Hunk and Pidge were all gone, for the moment. Lance smirked a little mindlessly, that meant he had a little extra time with Shiro for the next few days, providing that Shiro didn't drag both him and Keith into the training deck by their scruffs for extra practice. That would be an event, especially given the way that Keith smelled, currently.

He wondered offhand if Shiro could smell any of an omega's scent during heat, and resolved to ask him when it wasn't such an emotional knee jerk. He rubbed his nose idly again, realized that the itch had returned, and groaned.

Coran's ear flicked in subtle irritation, and Lance knew that he'd overstayed his welcome on the bridge for the moment.

"Have you seen Keith at all?" Lance said as casually as he could manage. "He was monopolizing the training deck this morning, but I haven't seen him since."

He could just track Keith's scent throughout the Castleship, but why do that when you had an Altean majordomo with access to all the Castleship's internal security cameras? "Ah, yes!" Coran turned his attention back to the helm. After a few moments of fiddling, he nodded his head with vigor. "I do believe that Keith is with the Red Lion, currently." He turned to look back at Lance, and Lance raised his hand in acknowledgement, as he was already heading for the main doors off the bridge.

"Thanks Coran, I appreciate it!"

"Hm," Coran said, as the doors closed behind Lance.

#

Well, this was a bad idea.

Lance stood outside the doors to the Red Lion's flight deck. He should really leave well enough alone - but after Coran had told him where he could find Keith it was as if a magnet had been attached somewhere behind his ribs and drew him straightaway to the hallway outside of the launch bay. He hadn't been overwhelmed by the scent of Keith's heat, so he had stashed himself somewhere away that Lance couldn't easily be affected unless he sought Keith out, and that was considerate of him.

It was also bullshit. Keith shouldn't even have to do that in the first place.

He stepped forward into the view of the sensors, and the bay doors split open and hissed aside. For the first time since his rinse-off shower he could smell Keith again. It wasn't as strong this time - not like earlier where he was nearly bowled over by the scent of him - but it was still heavy in the air, pungent and thready, proof of nothing else if not his existence.

The Red Lion's flight bay wasn't empty. Pidge wasn't the only one to make use of the additional space, having created what amounted to a computer lab in the offshoot alcove in the bay; but Keith on the other hand had turned his area into something of a mechanic's garage. He was putting together a small scout craft out of spare parts - they had found the chassis of a speeder at market in a bazaar and - thanks to Coran's utterly bizarre but apparently insane bartering skills - they walked away with both the supplies they were looking for and Keith's new project speeder.

The speeder in question sat on framework, propped up so that Keith could get under it easily enough and not have to worry about it shifting and falling over, crushing him. Both of Keith's legs were sticking out from under the chassis, and that was all Lance could see of him. He was no engineer, not like Hunk or even Pidge, but he had an eye for details and he knew how to be his own mechanic, and that was enough for Keith.

Lance walked over to him, hands still jammed in the pockets of his jacket, and waited for acknowledgement. When it didn't come, he kicked Keith's boot in irritation, and listened to the clatter of a dropped tool and Keith's creative curses. "Hey," Lance said, intentionally obnoxious, when Keith rolled himself out from under the speeder.

"What, Lance?" Keith was still sweaty, although the dirt and the grease he had accumulated since they'd parted ways apparently helped tamp down his scent.

"You were ignoring me," Lance said. "So I kicked your boot."

"Yeah, no shit." Keith sat up on his roller, and dragged the back of his hand over his cheek, smearing grease. "What do you want?"

"Hunk went with Allura and Pidge," Lance said. He rocked on his feet, head cocked. "Have you not slept?"

Keith's gaze was level, and silent. He'd gone right back to being annoyed at Lance after their semi-productive talk, and that would not do. After a long stretch of silence he looked away from Lance, and then down at the spanner he was still holding, considering it. "I can't sleep while I'm like this," he said finally, and glanced back at the speeder.

"...can't sleep?" Lance repeated, agog. "Or just ... won't?"

"Can't." Keith let out a harried sigh. "I just, I don't know. I stare up at the ceiling and smell you and Shiro fucking two rooms over and I can't focus on anything at all, least of all rest." He was still staring distractedly at the speeder, and didn't seem to realize exactly what he was saying. Lance turned a faint but obvious shade of pink. "And even if I can't smell you, or Allura, or anyone, it's like..." he shook his head and finally raised his gaze to Lance, and took in the flustered expression on Lance's features. He frowned, clearly trying to figure that one out.

"You can smell us fucking," Lance said, and it wasn't a question.

The look of horror on Keith's face would be hilarious in other circumstances. "I didn't say that."

"You literally just said exactly that."

Keith put his elbow on his knee and his hand on his face, and repeated it like it would erase the previous conversation.. "I didn't say that."

"Keith," Lance squatted, not to get on Keith's level but just so that he wasn't looking down on Keith any longer. "Have you ... has this been going on the entire time? Have you told Shiro? Holy shit."

"No! No, don't tell Shiro." Keith dropped the spanner and put both hands on his head this time, pushing his fingers back into his hair. "Don't tell him anything, okay? I don't want you to know this either but I can't seem to stop talking around you and it's freaking me out." There was a sudden, pregnant pause. Keith raised his head, eyes narrowed. "Is this an alpha thing?"

"What?" Lance shook his head, going from squatting to sitting, butt on the floor. "Nope." At Keith's disbelieving stare, he shook his head vigorously. "No, it's definitely not an alpha thing, Shiro doesn't tell me shit. He keeps his secrets." He waved a hand in the air. "I can't compel you to tell me anything, Keith, though if you want to talk I'm definitely here to listen."

Keith gave him a strange look. "Like before?"

"Well, I'd prefer if you didn't flash your dick out of nowhere but yes, like before."

Keith flushed and looked away. "You have the wrong idea, I just had to... if I had just said that my dick was funky you would have demanded to see it anyway so I thought I would just cut out the middleman."

"Okay that? That is a terrible plan, Keith."

"I'm not going around flashing just anybody! I wouldn't do that to Pidge!"

"That's some comfort, I guess. You're only a pervert to me." Lance raised an eyebrow. "And to Allura, I bet."

"Lance." Keith looked away, arms folded and chin down. "I don't wanna talk about her."

"Okay, look," Lance leaned forward. "I'll talk with you about whatever you want, okay? But you can't do," he gestured slightly, at Keith. "That."

"That." Keith repeated in a flat tone.

"Be, I dunno, you. You gotta let some walls down, dude. We're all a team here, and you’re just bricking yourself off like you think it's going to protect you in the long run." Lance sighed and folded his arms as well, mirroring Keith's sulking pose. "You haven't been hanging around Shiro like you used to, either. He's noticed."

"Well, he has you now." Keith's voice went soft. "And I'm glad."

Lance sighed, it was hard to keep how pleased he was at that from showing. "I don't want my relationship with Shiro to impact yours." That wasn't exactly a lie, even if he wanted to eternally monopolize Shiro's attention he was also a realist.

Keith's face was flushed red, and he looked away when Lance leaned in closer. His scent had picked up again, sharp and pungent, and it was making Lance's nose itch. Being this close his body was starting to respond in kind. He'd been confused and miserable the first time that this had happened to him on an alien planet; this time he knew what it meant when the heat started pooling in his belly, when his senses began to heighten and broaden. Lance wet his lips once and realized smugly that Keith's eyes had darted to catch the movement, before returning to his face instead.

There was a long moment of silence stretched between them, punctuated only by their breathing, seemingly amplified in the small work area. Then Keith swallowed and looked away. "I can't," he said, chest heaving, and Lance wasn't certain what he was responding to any longer.

Somehow, this his switched from a talk to something else entirely, something that he needed to get under control now. He couldn't, either, as that screaming part of his brain that he'd been intentionally ignoring reminded him that he had a mate already and that even considering anything else was supremely unfair to him. Lance chewed his bottom lip and sat back, finally, scrubbing his hands over his face and taking deep, deep breaths. It wasn't helping that every breath took in more of Keith's scent, excited and overwhelmed and needy, and that was setting aflame parts of Lance that he wasn't even aware of. "I know," Lance said dryly, thinking about trying to stagger to his feet and flee to Shiro, pinning him to a wall and fucking out all this pent-up need curling inside him. "I know."

And yet, neither of them moved. They stared at each other, trapped the same by the tension in the moment, and Lance knew that something had to happen to break it or else something he didn't want to happen would. Keith shifted suddenly and that drew his attention, but it was so he could press the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants and let out a low whine at the expected pressure. "Keith," Lance said, and tried not to think about how needy Keith would sound pinned underneath him, "I should ... I need to-" He needed to go, now.

He wasn't going anywhere.

Instead of pushing himself to his feet Lance leaned forward and put his hand over Keith's, over the bulge in his tight, dark pants. This time it was Keith who wet his lips and he groaned, sliding his hand out from under Lance's and closing his eyes as Lance applied pressure. His groin was so hot even through the fabric, and Lance rubbed slowly, trying to find his shape.

"What's it look like hard?" Lance asked, eyes on his hand, on Keith's crotch.

Keith let out another small groan. "I haven't looked. Don't wanna."

Well, Lance really wanted to see. He'd seen Keith's dick flaccid, strangely purple and different from what it used to be and now the curiosity was eating him alive. He slipped his fingers behind the buckle on Keith's pants and, when there was no response or request to stop, flipped the belt open and popped the fly.

The scent of Keith tripled immediately, much heavier and thicker and Lance was almost salivating with it. He wanted nothing more than to flip Keith over right now, yank his pants down just far enough and bury himself to the hilt inside, and the fact that this feeling was almost overwhelming him was so alarming that he released Keith's pants and sat back, panting audibly, mouth open. He glanced up at Keith's face and his was beet red, from ear to ear, and a faint shimmer of fresh sweat had started along his hairline. When Lance lifted his hand Keith's went immediately to replace it, pulling the front of his pants open enough that he could easily jam his hand into his underwear and free his cock.

Lance's eyes went straight to it, and he almost choked on his own breath. Hard, Keith's cock had almost doubled in size, so thick that Lance wasn't certain his own hand would close around it. The ridges that he had noted had expanded outward, thin bands that were a darker color than the engorged flesh beneath. Fluid gathered at the tip of his cock, glistening in the overhead light, and that, at least, looked somewhat normal. "Holy shit," Lance said, and all thoughts of shame or worry flew out of his head just that fast, pulled under by the strength of Keith's need.

Keith touched two fingers to the head of his cock and trembled. Without waiting for Keith to ask for it, Lance reached forward and gently grasped under the head. He was wrong, his hand did reach around it, but just barely, and his fingers didn't brush his thumb. He very gently stroked downward, and when his hand slid over one of the bands it collapsed under his hand, flattening to Keith's cock. On that stroke back upward, though, Lance ran up against the way the band expanded, and he let out a small noise of amusement. "It's so you can't pull out," he said, releasing his hand and starting again from the top. "It keeps you inside, like a knot. But smaller, and several of them."

It must be amazing to feel them inside, and Lance shivered, thinking about the friction and the tug of those expanding rings against his rim. "I want it inside of me," he said without thinking, hand tight on Keith's cock. Keith let out a small, confused sound and Lance's eyes darted back up to him.

"You're an alpha," Keith said, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, and?" He stroked down again, felt Keith's cock jerk against his hand. "I like bottoming too, why is that a surprise? Shiro loves to fuck me raw." The mention of his mate was like a cold shower on his ardor and, with some regret, Lance released Keith's dick, pushing himself upright. "Oh."

Keith wet his lips again, expression slightly glazed, and then glanced down between them at his own cock before looking back to Lance. After a moment of this, he seemed to register the source of Lance's discomfort and his eyes widened. "Oh shit," he said. "Shiro."

Lance shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm sorry, Keith," he said, breathless, Keith's heat in his lungs and on his lips. "I just, I can't." The pull to remain was so strong, the pheromones in the air so thick that he was surprised Shiro hadn't been drawn down to the Red Lion's flight bay to investigate himself. "This is wrong."

"I'm sorry," Keith said, and he sounded so broken that Lance almost stayed, felt like he needed to, like he needed to be the one who fixed this for Keith. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, but ultimately the logic in his brain won out.

"I have to go," he said, and backpedaled, toward the door.

He wasn't looking, but he caught the way the Red Lion's eyes seemed to flash as he left the flight bay.

He needed to see Shiro.

#

Shiro was in the galley when Lance finally found him, grabbing a quick bite to eat. Lance could barely catch his scent, so overwhelmed with Keith's, but then again Shiro wasn't currently on his heat. Even so Lance would be drawn to his scent throughout the ship, and that being muddied by anything, especially Keith, was frightening him. Shiro looked up when he sensed Lance enter the room, and he smiled at Lance, comfortable and warm in a way that lit a fire in the center of Lance's chest. "Where have you been?" Shiro asked conversationally, although Lance swore there was an accusatory undertone to his words.

He couldn't know, they hadn't actually done anything ... so why did Lance feel so guilty?

Without a word Lance stalked across the kitchen. Shiro had already resumed making his sandwich and was caught only slightly by surprise when Lance gripped his shoulder and turned him slightly, so that Lance could look directly into Shiro's eyes. "I love you," Lance said, like it was a revelation, and Shiro laughed affectionately.

"Yeah, I love you too," he said, and tilted his head to kiss Lance.

That was all it took. Lance kissed him back hard, passionately, and Shiro's eyes widened in surprise as Lance pushed him back against the counter, attempting to trap Shiro in with his body. His blood was screaming in his veins, he was so hard and god, he needed to fucking knot someone and the image of Keith on his belly and whining for release hadn't quite been banished yet. He needed to knot his mate, mark him, and leave Keith's weird alien dick to his weird alien girlfriend.

"Lance," Shiro said, breathless, when Lance let him up for air. He had flushed a brilliant red, not flushed nearly as dark as Keith, but he was looking at Lance with a curious, concerned expression. Shiro cupped Lance's face with his right hand, brow furrowed. "Are you all right?"

"No," Lance said, voice hoarse. I need to knot you. Shiro's expression darkened slightly in concern, and Lance cupped his face with both hands, staring into Shiro's eyes pleadingly. "Keith's in heat," he said, breathing hard. "I'm in a rut, please, Shiro..."

Both of Shiro's eyebrows lifted, and then came together. He leaned forward and kissed Lance again, noticeably more aggressive this time. "He sent you into a rut?" Shiro stared at Lance, but there wasn't anything accusatory in his gaze. "He's been in heat before, it hasn't affected you like this."

His brain wasn't working at full capacity right now, and the only thing Lance could really even think about was knotting, so he growled and kissed Shiro again to shut him up. "Up," he ordered, pushing Shiro back against the counter. Somewhere in the back of his mind Lance could hear Hunk screeching about even the thought of this in his kitchen, unsanitary, but Lance wasn't in his best mind at the moment. And neither, apparently, was Shiro, who obediently hiked himself up on the counter and spread his legs, one hand draped over Lance's shoulder as Lance settled between them.

It was a simple matter to unhook Shiro's belt and tug down his pants. Shiro raised no complaint to this, although his eyes were carefully focused on Lance and not what he was doing. Lance ignored the scrutiny, running his hand down Shiro's very normal, thick cock and stroking him quickly to fully erect. It was a relief, after seeing the strangeness of Keith's cock, for Shiro's to be so normal. Lance rubbed his thumb over its head, pressing as clear slick beaded over at the slit. "Are you wet?" Lance asked breathlessly, and Shiro shook his head, face flushed and teeth worrying his bottom lip.

"Not on my heat," he reminded Lance, and Lance swore softly. That would make things more difficult. Lance made to push Shiro's legs further apart but they wouldn't go any farther, pants bunched around his thighs, and Lance swore more, uncreatively. He pulled Shiro forward and his boots hit the ground, and Shiro went relaxed, allowing Lance to manhandle him, letting him turn Shiro around bodily and press him against the counter.

Now, with Shiro's ass exposed, Lance put his hands on the thick, shaped muscle, digging his thumbs in as he spread Shiro's cheeks. He wasn't wet - not that Lance doubted his mate - and Lance let out a little groan of disappointment, rubbing his finger over Shiro's entrance and feeling Shiro shudder. It would hurt without the slick, be too dry for both of them. "Lube," Lance said without realizing, and looked around the kitchen.

Hunk was going to have a conniption fit when he got back, if he discovered that Lance had raided his pantry for an alien cooking oil, slick and fragrant, to use specifically to fuck Shiro against the counter.

So Lance made a mental note to never tell Hunk about this particular escapade. Shiro tilted his head forward and let out a low keen as Lance pushed two oil-slick fingers into him and got him sloppy, finger-fucking him slow and agonizing. "More," Shiro demanded, a whine on the edge of his voice, and Lance could give him that.

He worked himself in slowly, jeans loose on his hips, and Shiro let out a long, shuddering sigh as Lance bottomed out, pressing himself flush against Shiro's back. "God," Lance said into the fabric bunched at Shiro's shoulders. "You feel so good, Takashi."

Shiro shuddered again and clenched at the use of his name. Lance laughed and kissed the back of his neck, knowing that under the fabric of his collar was the claim mark that showed Lance's ownership. "Like that, huh?"

"Fuck, Lance," Shiro hissed, and the counter creaked as Shiro leaned into it with his full weight. "Do it fast and hard."

"Absolutely, baby," Lance said, running his hands down Shiro's sides and setting them on his trim waist. "Whatever you want."

Shiro was so tight, but even without the slick of his heat the oil kept things moving as they should. He tightened on Lance, dragging on him, and Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro's lower chest, holding him tight as he rolled his hips. It would be over quick, he'd blow his load and knot and then they would stay like this, panting, until his knot went down. After all, Shiro was his to breed. Lance groaned at the thought, felt his balls tighten and he pressed his face to Shiro's back as he rode him deep and strong.

"Lance," Shiro's voice was strangled, and without opening his eyes Lance slid his hand over Shiro's thighs, finding his erection and squeezing it. He began to stroke him and Shiro's gasping breaths went straight into a keening pant, his body primed and ready.

"Good boy," Lance murmured, and rolled his face, eyes opening and catching a glimpse of the door to the kitchen. It stood open - which it shouldn't be, the sensors closed it after a body passed through - and realized with a jolt the reason that it was open was because Keith was standing there watching them, his eyes wide but not looking away. Somehow the fact that they were being watched hadn't broken his rhythm, and he made eye contact with Keith, who was turning a brilliant shade of red. "Good boy," Lance said again as Shiro whined, his muscles contracting on Lance, and Lance ran his other hand up Shiro's back, fingers tangling in his short hair and pulling his head back just as a display for Keith.

Predictably, perhaps, Shiro gasped and shuddered when his head was yanked back, Lance's name spilling from his lips as his seed painted white stripes on the countertop. Lance crooned something sweet and mindless to him as Shiro slumped forward, and Lance put both of his hands back on Shiro's hips, holding him still so that he could fuck into him hard and savage. It took just four more pumps and he was done, firing off into Shiro and feeling his entire body quake with its reception.

There was a brief moment of silence as Lance gasped into Shiro's back, his knot growing fast until they were tied together, and then Lance looked back to the door to see it closed, Keith gone. Ah well, he was missing the best part.

Lance rocked his hips slowly now, moving the knot inside of Shiro's channel and listening to the beautiful music of an overstimulated omega gasping and sobbing for additional release. "Shh," Lance soothed as he pushed his knot in deep again, and Shiro shook underneath him. He dragged his hips back and let his knot tug at Shiro's rim, the force of its pressure unraveling Shiro and causing a second orgasm to spurt weakly from his dick. "Good, you're so good," Lance soothed him, stroking his too-sensitive cock slowly, and riding out the wave of euphoria.

It took a good ten minutes for his knot to go down this time, enough so that he could pull it free of Shiro's hole without causing any damage. As soon as his cock popped loose, thick globs of white started escaping behind it, and Lance smirked as he watched it all leak from Shiro's abused hole.

After a long moment of remaining stationary, Shiro pushed himself up off the counter, arms trembling. "Fuck," Shiro breathed, holding himself in place for a second as if he were afraid to move. "Lance, that was... fuck-"

"Incredible?" Lance said, allowing the smug note to escape as he buttoned himself back up.

"Fucking savage," Shiro was still slightly incoherent, which was a big win as far as Lance was concerned, considering the amount of time he had to come down off his high. Shiro finally straightened entirely, legs wobbly, and Lance put his hand flat against Shiro's back for support, kissing him tenderly.

"Thank you," Lance said. "I feel much better now, my head is clearer."

"Yeah," Shiro blinked a few times, exhaled, and seemingly found his center. He glanced down at himself, cum smeared across his belly and dripping down the inside of his thighs, and then gave Lance a flat, slightly unamused look. "I'm a mess."

"A very attractive mess," Lance said, kissing his cheek. "I'll help you clean up." He grabbed some of the hand towels that Hunk kept around and went quickly to work. Shiro made a muffled noise that he couldn't classify as pleasure or pained as Lance wiped him down ... it wouldn't do much for what was leaking from him, but a shower would take care of the rest. Lance wiped the counter clean of Shiro's fluid with a different towel as Shiro leaned back against it, shakily pulling his pants up from where they had fallen around his ankles and buckling them again.

"Maybe next time you feel like you need to fuck," Shiro said, voice mostly back to normal, "you could consider asking me back to our room or something."

"Don't lie, you've thought about me taking you on the counter since before we started fucking," Lance teased, tossing the dirty towels in what he hoped was a dirty towel laundry chute. When he glanced at Shiro after saying that, he was surprised to see the flush paint Shiro's cheeks pink again. "Holy shit, Shiro, I was just being cute. Did you really?"

"No," Shiro said. "You liar," Lance laughed, especially when Shiro pulled him close and kissed him again.