Voltron Legendary Defender (Spy AU) - martinis, girls & guns [8] [Sheith + Allurance]

[scriveyner]

Title: martinis, girls & guns [8]
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
AU: Spyfic
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith, Lance/Allura, Hunk, Pidge
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 3467
Summary: Away from the coast the sky darkened gradually, thin clouds turning thick and heavy with rain.

Away from the coast the sky darkened gradually, thin clouds turning thick and heavy with rain. Keith sat on the padded bench seat, one elbow braced against the sill of the window as he watched the verdant countryside scroll past at speed. Shiro sat opposite him on the other bench seat, legs crossed and a tablet propped up in his lap. It was a consumer grade device, laden down with bloatware and easily hackable. They weren't using it for anything so nefarious, Shiro was actually playing some random preloaded game that had annoying sound effects.

Rain pattered softly against the window as the train headed steadily toward the distant mountains. Keith sighed heavily and shifted, and Shiro didn't look up. "Don't leave the compartment," he said, tapping the surface of the tablet and concentrating on the game. Keith had been about to rise up off his seat, and at Shiro's words dropped his center of gravity back against the cushion. He folded his arms over his chest and slumped a little, then put his leg out as far is it would go, resting it on the cushion outside of Shiro's thigh.

"We should have upgraded," Keith said. "Gotten a bed."

"The benches can be converted into bunks," Shiro said, still without looking up. Keith let out an exasperated noise and nudged Shiro's thigh with the top of his shoe. This action did in fact call Shiro's attention to his foot, which traveled up his leg and finally to Keith's face, eyebrow cocked in solid amusement. "What?"

"I want to check on Allura," Keith said. "I don't trust him around her. I still don't even know if I trust her." He let out a long, aggravated noise and Shiro put aside the tablet, scratching his jaw with his left hand as he glanced out the window at the dark, rainy scenery.

"There's no point to wandering around the train just yet," Shiro said. It was a matter-of-fact statement but it still made Keith bristle just a little bit. "All it would do is attract suspicion. We already know some of Sendak's men are on board."

Keith recalled the pair of broad-shouldered goons that had shoved past them while boarding. They were fairly generic in description, with easily forgettable faces and hair; but they stank like they hadn't bathed in weeks. They were also both very tall, taller than Shiro even. "Remind me why we aren't doing anything about that again," Keith muttered, arms still folded sullenly.

"You've been acting like a petulant teenager since we left out this morning," Shiro said. "Stop it."

Keith met Shiro's eye, jaw tilted up aggressively. "We're surrounding ourselves with unknown variables; our cover's been blown and Sendak is on to us and now we're on the run. We were about to bring the fight to them when everything went to hell and the princess invited the perpetrators into the fold. Sorry if me being a little on edge about what's probably going to lead to a very ugly death is considered petulant." He exhaled heavily and looked away finally, back out the window.

"They were chosen for this a long time ago," Shiro said. "You know that."

"I don't have to like it," Keith said. "We could have still gotten it done without them. One of them even wants you dead, I don't know why you're so blase about that."

Shiro was silent for a long moment, looking at Keith, watching him. "What is this really about, Keith?" Keith did not respond, straightening himself and dropping his foot off the bench beside Shiro. Shiro leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands dangling, eyebrow cocked. "Is it that you're jealous?"

"What!? No," Keith's face flushed in indignation. Anyone else he would have been able to control that response, but the way that Shiro was looking at him, a small half-grin on his face, head cocked and looking up through thick lashes and Keith couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm not jealous, what the fuck." Shiro had this way of worming in under his skin in a way that no one previous had been able. It was an effective technique, an almost effortless seduction that he'd seen turned on many others before and yet always seemed to fall prey to himself.

"I think you are." Shiro sat up a little, elbows still on his knees. "The princess has turned her attention on a new toy and you're jealous."

Keith scoffed, felt the heat of his cheeks betraying him. "We should focus on the mission," he said. "My feelings are irrelevant."

"Will you be able to rely on our new teammates?" Shiro asked.

"Will you?" Keith snorted. "At least none of them want me dead."

"Katie doesn't want me dead," Shiro said, and there was an undercurrent that Keith recognized in his voice. "She wants her family back. You should be able to relate to that, at least."

"Fuck you," Keith snapped, back going straight against the firm upper cushion of the bench. "You don't get to bring that up, fuck you, Shiro."

Shiro sat up as well, tilting his head slightly in apology but not voicing the words. "We have to work together," he said simply. "All of us. You know what's at stake as well as I do." He stood then, and Keith pushed himself back against the seat but Shiro went to the edge of the compartment, where the pair of duffel bags were sitting atop a riser above the door. "We need to be prepared for when Sendak's men make trouble."

"Not 'if'?" Keith snorted, as Shiro dropped his duffel on the bench beside Keith. There was a knock on the outside of their compartment, and Keith's arms unfolded fast as he exchanged a look with Shiro. They didn't have much by way of weapons with them, just what they were able to carry thanks to the corrupt security officer who had accepted a cash bribe. Shiro waited until Keith had fished a small pistol from out of the duffel bag before he flipped the lock on the compartment and opened the door.

There was a man outside with two clothing bags on hangers. Shiro accepted the hangers after a brief exchange in the staffer's native language; although Keith did not put the concealed weapon away until Shiro had closed and locked the door again, hooking the hangers on the lip of the riser. "Looks like we're dressing up for dinner," Shiro said, noting the tag on the clothing bag. "Courtesy of the princess."

"I knew she'd use those measurements for evil," Keith said, and Shiro chuckled a little as he seated himself again opposite Keith. He propped his elbow against the window and rested his cheek against his hand lightly, looking at Keith with that same fond expression that Keith found both unsettling and slightly arousing. Keith raised an eyebrow at that look, then tilted his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat above the collar of his shirt. Shiro's eyes traveled downward, and Keith lazily kicked his legs out again. "You can't possibly be hungry already," he said, as Shiro lifted his head from his hand.

"I'm simply ravenous," Shiro murmured as he crossed the small compartment to Keith.

#

Allura's skin was warmer than Lance had anticipated; or maybe it had just been that long since he'd had a moment to stop and just touch. He rested the palm of his hand on the soft, rounded curve of her belly and felt her body jump slightly at the touch. Her skin was much darker in tone than his own, and he admired the contrast as he spread his fingers. Allura let out a small sigh and arched her back against the bed, bringing her body up against his hand, her arms thrown loosely above her head. "Mm, what are you doing?" she asked lazily, eyes still closed. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"Hardly," Lance said, putting both of his hands in the sheets along her chest and pushing forward again. She reacted to that with a low noise, her hips lifting off the bed as he moved them both. She extended her leg out and then hooked it over his back, her chest heaving as he got deep with the motion. Allura was receptive and warm and tight, and Lance was amazed he'd held off for this long as it was. She smiled lazily up at him and damn if she didn't get tighter. He groaned a little as she reached out and touched his cheek.

"Come on then," she scolded lightly. "Do me like you mean it, I won't break." She bit her bottom lip as her hands slid down to rest flat on the broad planes of his chest. He caught one of her hands and dragged it up to his mouth, kissing her palm delicately and Allura's laugh was almost as intoxicating as her scent. There was something about it that was making his head spin, making him dizzy in a way that sex rarely did. If he'd been in better control of his facilities maybe he would have stopped it there, but he was buried in her deep and all system commands had been overridden.

She pushed him off her with surprising ease, and Lance grunted, a little disappointed until she rolled him firmly onto his back and she straddled him. "See, now," she said. "If you're not going to be cooperative I'll just have to fuck you," and while she was scolding him she was parting her folds with her fingers and nestling the head of his cock against her.

"That barely seems like a punishment to me," Lance said as she settled down atop him. It didn't much feel like one either, as she let out a satisfied noise and stretched her body out, her arms over her head and her breasts jutting at a perky angle away from her body. He settled one hand on her hip and ran the other up her side, palming a breast with one hand and rolling it. She looked down at him, her strange, unnaturally colored hair reflecting the blue of the bedspread and he swore for a moment that her eyes glimmered a different shade. A trick of the light, just like the bracelet she still wore glowing a soft teal instead of reflecting the overhead light, and Lance didn't think much more about it as she leaned forward over him and brought her hips down hard, riding him into the mattress that rocked softly with the train's momentum.

#

"Don't you dare look up my shorts," Pidge said as she balanced on one foot on the plush red bench of the passenger compartment. "I'll kick you in the face with this fucking spike heel, I dare you to try." She wasn't even looking at Hunk, who was steadying her with one hand as she groped through the small entry she'd made in the overhead compartment's paneling. "I will fucking blind you."

Hunk managed to keep the smirk out of his voice but his face respectfully averted. "I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," he said, and then had to look because she had pushed forward closer to him and put her knee on his shoulder and that put his face in exactly the last place he wanted his face to be at the moment. "Pidge!"

"Hang on, hang on-" she said, and Hunk tried not to think about the fact that her crotch was directly in his face. "I've almost ... fuck-" she extended herself just a little farther and Hunk was about to suggest he turn around so she could just climb on his shoulders when she let out a triumphant yelp. "Got it!"

The cable bundle that she threaded out through the hole didn't have a lot of slack to give. Pidge jammed the closed sunglasses through the bundle of cords so it wouldn't snap back through the hole, keeping it out and visible. Then she put one hand on Hunk's head and pushed off him, balancing back on the bench seat. "Sorry about that, Hunk," she said. "Your face is really red."

"Yeah, that happens when my face gets all up in someone's business," Hunk said. He craned his neck and looked up at the corded bundle of wires. "Which one do you need to splice into, just the ethernet?"

"The cat-6," Pidge said, pulling a rolled up kit from her bag and selecting a crimping tool. "The onboard wifi is crap here and if we want to stay off the Garrison's radar I can't tap into the global network, so we gotta do things the old-fashioned way." She pulled a few more tools out and a roll of electrical tape. "I'll need to sit on your shoulders for this, hope you don't mind."

"As long as there are no more threats at blinding me, that's fine," Hunk said. He dropped into a crouch that allowed Pidge to hop on his shoulders with ease, and took some of the tools from her as he slowly got to his feet. "What do you think about all this, anyway? Think this Allura chick is legit?"

"I've never heard of Altea," Pidge said as she selected the ethernet cable and cut into its casing. "But she's got two dead men working for her, and one that will lead me to my brother, so I can hang tight for the moment."

"There was something on in that van," Hunk said. "Weird writing, I'd never seen it before."

"Mm," Pidge had the crimping tool in her mouth as she worked. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it doesn't resemble anything I've ever seen," he said. "I didn't know what to make of it, I'll see if I can recreate it for you." He handed up the electrical tape at her bidding, and they both jumped when they heard the heavy knock at the door to the compartment.

"Shit!" Pidge hissed, and jumped off of Hunk's shoulder. Hunk moved quickly to the door because he wasn't certain he'd locked it, and when he opened it there was a staff member standing there with two clothing bags.

"What was that about?" Pidge asked when Hunk closed the door, holding the two bags curiously. She had already attached an ethernet cord, pulling it down far enough to hook it into her secure laptop.

"Apparently we have a dinner date," Hunk said, unzipping one of the bags to show of a sleek, tailored suit. "I don't see what the point was of splitting us up if we're going to all meet up in the dining car, that's..." he trailed off, a little uneasy at the thought. "Do you think she wanted to get Lance alone?"

"Probably." Pidge looked up. "Is that a dress? Did that bitch send me a fucking cocktail dress? Goddammit," she sighed, balancing the laptop on her crossed legs. "I knew I should have brought a suit."

#

The thing about Keith, Shiro knew, what that the key to getting him out of whatever funk was bothering him was to distract him. He was hard as shit to distract, though, as Keith could possess a single-minded intensity that helped drive him to get to the end of whatever a mission entailed. It was a fantastic quality to have in their particular line of work, at least until Keith turned that single-minded intensity on something other than the mission itself.

Fortunately, the key to distraction could be pretty straightforward, all things considered.

"Nngh, Shiro," Keith said, his fingers tight in Shiro's hair. He'd intended to have his hair trimmed, it had grown unevenly, leaving a rather large forelock of hair gone white that was very easily recognizable ... but it was also nice to have something for Keith to curl his fingers into and hang on with. It had its uses, even if he'd dye it and get it trimmed when he next had the chance.

Keith was sprawled on the seat now, his legs thrown wide, one hooked over Shiro's shoulder. His shorts hung off one leg, he'd not kicked them free yet. Shiro smirked a little at the way Keith said his name, and licked slowly up the underside of Keith's cock. "You haven't called me that in a while," he said, and he meant it in a teasing manner because he didn't mind the nickname at all, but Keith took it to heart immediately and moaned his given name instead.

His cock was short and thick, and Shiro could easily suck the head into his mouth, taking Keith in almost all the way. His musk was thickest here, when Shiro had his nose buried in the wiry black hair that frame Keith's cock, and it was a scent that made his mouth water even if it wasn't already occupied. "Takashi," Keith grunted again, and Shiro lifted his head slowly, letting Keith slide free with a slick, filthy sound. He knew Keith's eyes were locked on him and he made a show of slowly cleaning the tip of his cock again, pulling his foreskin back all the way to show its glistening, fat head.

"Enjoying yourself?" Shiro asked lazily, his eyes drifting up to Keith's violet ones, his pupils dilated large. Shiro rested his right hand on Keith's thigh and utilized his left, mostly, squeezing round the base. He was so hard it was an effort to keep himself from pressing his own hand against himself, he would have time to take care of that after Keith was spent.

"Your mouth is so good," Keith said, and that hand that had been tight in his hair slid down his face, fingers brushing over the rise of his cheek and lingering on the half-faded scar across his nose. He didn't say anything then, but his brow furrowed and Shiro could sense the direction of his thoughts, so he took it upon himself to redirect them; primarily by liberal application of his tongue to various lower bits of Keith's anatomy. The startled his as he went further south was enough to tell him that his plan had mostly succeeded, as he sucked part of Keith's sack into his mouth and this time, Keith moaned, both of his hands going to Shiro's head now, his hips bucking.

"You wanna finish in my mouth or on my face?" Shiro asked, his voice gone low.

"Mouth," was the only thing Keith could get out, the rest of his words broken into guttural syllables. Shiro obeyed, resuming his attention on Keith's cock itself, his left hand slipping down to cradle his sack so that he could feel when he started to twitch and tighten, the only warning he'd get as Keith's fingers tightening on his scalp always happened the split-second after he started to ejaculate.

Keith jammed his hips forward and Shiro didn't gag himself as Keith came directly down his throat. He only choked on the withdraw, when the thick white fluid filled his throat before he could swallow again. Shiro coughed a little as he drew back, breaking the sticky strand of saliva that still connected him to Keith's cock. Keith wasn't watching, his eyes closed and mouth open as he panted raggedly, and there were still a few dribbles escaping from his jerking cock. Shiro stroked him a few more times, even as Keith hissed at the pressure on his sensitive flesh, and when he opened his eyes to meet Shiro's he didn't flinch away from his fluids still on Shiro's mouth and chin when Shiro rose up and kissed him.

"Better?" Shiro asked, tugging on Keith's lower lip with his teeth.

"So far," Keith said, breathless. He caught Shiro's shirt with one hand and looked at him with drowsy, yet still intense, eyes. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" Shiro asked, rubbing his thumb over the head of Keith's cock. "You wanna return the favor?"

"Mm," Keith said. "Maybe I wanna return it with interest." He ran his tongue over his lips slowly, pink against the bruised red, and then leaned forward and licked at Shiro's chin, cleaning some of his own fluids there. "Maybe I wanna ride you."

"Maybe later," Shiro said, brushing his hand back into Keith's hair. "I don't think we have enough time before dinner."

"Screw dinner," Keith said. Shiro laughed a little and stood, unbuckling his trousers to reveal the bulge in his boxers. Keith caught his hip and tugged him forward. Shiro braced one hand on the window and the other on the shelf above the bench seat; the palm print of his right hand only leaving a faint imprint on the cold glass window speckled with rain.