It wasn’t Lance’s fault.
The blue paladin rightfully expected a safe-space within the walls of his room. Well, not exactly, seeing as it was only a temporary chamber while he helped rescue the universe, but it was the closest he had to home. A place where he could calm down and forget about all the chaos that happened in the last year or so.
A hot shower and music usually knocked him out within the hour. (Pidge allowed him to use her headphones, which she programmed to shut off after two hours so Lance could hear the morning alarms.) Lance was grateful he could still manage to keep a sleeping schedule with all he’d seen. Nightmares were expected, so he didn’t dwell over the ones that haunted him. Several ended with him dying, so he wondered if he could even call them nightmares.
Self-hatred aside, Lance did know, nay, think that he would be safe within the four thin walls. He could be quiet, alone, and weird. He could stare at the wall for hours, with no one judging him for the silence that plagued those afternoons. He didn’t even sing in his shower. Not that he thought that anyone could hear him, in fact, Lance had to admit that he had a great voice. However, he just liked the silence. He liked the quiet.
And that’s what made it so easy to tell when someone else was there.
Lance’s silence had always been like static. A comfortable fuzz laced with the ever present nothing.
Right now, there was something.
A short breath, a fast heartbeat (that may have been Lance’s), and just an entirely uncomfortable feeling. Lance had fallen asleep an hour ago, and woke up to the anti-silence, as his mind as now calling it. Someone was in his room. His trained mind immediately thought that it was a Galra, and slowly reached for the bayard he kept under his covers.
Only to find it wasn’t there.
“Looking for something?” Came a rough familiar voice. Lance inhaled sharply, freezing. At first, he calmed at the thought that it was someone in his team, but then he removed his sleeping mask and noticed the yellow eyes staring at him, blue bayard in the person’s hand.
“…who’s there?” The paladin pathetically asked. Moments passed and no answer came. Lance thought he would have to ask again or just grow a big enough pair of balls to run, but, nothing prepared him for the feeling of someone wrestling him to the ground when he tried sitting up.
The scent of masculine sweat hit his nose, and Lance whimpered, “Shiro?”
Yellow eyes stared at him, and Lance knew he was wrong. Whoever this was, it wasn’t Shiro. The scar on his nose was the only other feature Lance could see thanks to the glowing vision. Very soon, however, that became a lie.
Shiro (?) rutted against Lance’s groin, and another feature became prominent.
Lance gasped, and Shiro laughed. Dark, deep, and frightening. The blue paladin begged his mind to wake up, already thinking this was a nightmare gone far too dark. A metallic hand held his hands over his head, holding his bayard, Shiro’s human one traveling up his shirt, and Lance suddenly knew what was going to happen.
“Fuck, you little faggot, you’re enjoying my dick, aren’t you?”
Lance was whimpering, gasping as his own dick twitched against his stomach. Had they been on his bed, it would have been rocking. His body contorted, the shirt he had worn to sleep in riding up to his chest. Navel exposed, Shiro ran a hand up the exposed flesh, under the shirt, and along his collar bones. Lance whined, making the slightly older man growl.
“Shut the fuck up, you little whore.” Shiro’s hand met his neck, pressing against it. Lance choked, eyes opening in terror, knees bending even more as his back arched. “Flaunting yourself like that. Can’t keep it in your pants for more than a few hours, huh? Flirting with ever girl you find. I just had to teach you a lesson. Let’s see if you want any girls after feeling my cock in you.”
“You little cunt, I didn’t give you permission to fucking speak.”
A sharp thrust into Lance’s prostate had him cumming for the third time. It was relentless. The feeling was overwhelming, though, tears had already formed long before this orgasm, his face drenched. Hiccups plagued him, Shiro’s cock up against prostate still. How long would this continue? What had even caused Lance to deserve this?
“Fuck, you little cocksucker,” Shiro panted, hand tightening around Lance’s throat again. “I’m gonna give you a big load, right deep in you, like the little cum bucket you are. You’re gonna take it, then I’m using your throat.”
Lance gasped as Shiro’s thrusts became erratic, yellow eyes closing as he felt the oncoming shots of cum. The blue paladin’s eyes widened, feeling the sticky substance taint his walls, his mind finally just breaking from the intensity of his situation. Words of acceptance as well as rejection flooded his mouth, making the corrupted black paladin tighten his hold, his human nails leaving scars along the skin there. Lance drooled and begged, both for it all to continue as well as end. Too much, yet, not enough. Nothing made sense.
He felt Shiro pull out, and prepared himself to worship the man that had just broke him.