Actions

Work Header

If it Feels Good, Tastes Good, It Must be Mine

Work Text:

Keith wakes up absolutely fucking freezing. Just unfairly, bitterly cold. He’s curled into a ball under the covers, arms wrapped around his knees, teeth chattering.

“What the fuck…” he groans, breath puffing out in a cloud, illuminated blue in the room’s dim light. “What the fuck.”

Across the room, the display on the door panel blinks red. Throwing his feet to the floor, he hisses, the cold floor biting into his feet, even through his socks.

“Climate Control Malfunction” it flashes.

“Yeah, no shit.”

The display tells him the room is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (thank you, Pidge), and he watches in horror as it drops a degree, then after a few beats, another. He tries to bump the temperature up but it’s unresponsive.

“Great,” Keith mutters. “Really great.”

He’s like a frog in a pot of water, except instead of being boiled alive he’s gradually freezing to death.

The panel doors slide open with a whir, then close behind him as he steps into the hallway. It’s not exactly warm, climate controlling the hallways being less important than living quarters, but it’s a huge improvement. The hallway is dim and quiet, the other paladins sleeping off the day’s events in their rooms, and as Keith pads his way through the halls towards the bridge, he gets the odd sense of being the only person in the world.

Which is why, when he hears a soft, “Hey” as he nears the central controls, he startles badly, heart jumping to his throat, arms coming up defensively as he whirls to face…Lance.

Sitting on the floor against a pillar by the window, wrapped up in a blanket, and staring at him.

“Jesus, Lance,” Keith says, arms dropping back to his sides but heart still pounding. “What are you even doing here?”

Lance looks chagrined. “I didn’t mean to startle you, dude, I was just--” he pauses, frees an arm from his blanket to gesture vaguely towards the room. His face becomes suspicious. “What are you doing here, going to the castle’s controls in the middle of the night, huh?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “There’s something wrong with my room’s climate control, it’s freezing in there. I was trying to see if I could fix it from here.” He steps into Allura’s usual position in the center of the room, but the control pillars that always rise from the floor to greet her are clearly not going to do the same for him.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure only Allura and Coran can access the ship’s controls dude,” Lance supplies unhelpfully.

Keith sighs. “Fantastic.” He crosses his arms, rubbing at them, the chill from his room not entirely subsided. “Guess I’ll just...” he trails off, not exactly sure what he’ll do.

Lance is still looking at him. “You could just come chill here. Not literally, I mean, my blanket is pretty warm actually and you look pretty cold, you could—"

Keith shrugs. “Sure.” It’s not like he has anything better to do, and it does look warm.

“You—oh okay,” Lance scoots as Keith comes to sit next to him, unwraps himself from his blanket and adjusts so that he holds half of it out to Keith. Keith wraps his half around his shoulders, and Lance is right, it is pretty warm, relief enough from the cold that he doesn’t really notice that the blanket is just big enough to wrap around him and Lance completely until they’re shoulder to shoulder, Lance’s arm bare against his. In a weird jolt Keith realizes that he doesn’t remember the last time he actually touched another person, skin to skin. And Lance’s skin is…warm, Lance himself just sort of radiating heat next to him in just a tank top and gym shorts, the skin of his bicep soft against Keith knuckles as he adjusts the blanket again and Keith is…

“You okay, man? You seem a little tense.” Lance’s concerned gaze is very, very close, and the heat rising in Keith’s face is surely just because he’s actually starting to warm up, feeling coming back into his fingers and toes again.

Keith swallows. “I’m good.”

Lance eyes linger on him a moment longer, and Keith is worried he’s going to press it, but he doesn’t. Just nods, and leans back against the pillar behind him, gaze shifting to look back out at the stars lazily drifting by.

They ease into silence, each with his own thoughts, as Keith slowly relaxes and thaws, back resting against the pillar with Lance.

He’s not sure how long they sit like that, cocooned in the blanket and the darkness of the ship, but he knows he’s never seen Lance be so still and quiet for so long. Lance doesn’t even seem to show any signs of restlessness, just watches space silently pass them by.

Keith sits with his legs bent up, hands resting loosely on his knees, Lance in a similar position to his right. They’re still pressed shoulder to shoulder and as Lance shifts, adjusting the blanket, his fingertips just barely graze the side of Keith’s hand. It’s such a slight touch that Lance must not notice it, his gaze not shifting away from the window, but it sends a little thrill up Keith’s spine. Keith glances at Lance out of the corner of his eye, hoping he didn’t notice the way he tensed at the tiny accidental touch. Nothing about Lance’s expression indicates that he’s paying attention to anything but the view, and Keith breathes an internal sigh of relief.

It happens again a minute later.

Lance shifts his side of the blanket again just slightly, a seemingly unconscious motion to resettle it over his shoulders. As he gets situated, his fingertips brush against Keith’s hand again, just a little more firmly, just a moment longer. The change seems trivial but it feels deliberate. His eyes narrow, suspicious, as he glances at Lance again, but he seems completely oblivious, expression never shifting. There’s a tiny twitch in his jaw, though, and Keith doesn’t miss it.

Keith stays stock still, waiting. He thinks he might know what Lance is up to but he has to be sure. He hardly dares breathe, eyes fixed out the window but not really seeing.

Disappointment starts to settle in as long minutes pass and it seems like Lance really was just resettling the blanket to be more comfortable. Just as Keith is resigning himself to being wrong, Lance’s fingers brush his hand again, pads of his fingertips dragging against his skin in a way that can’t be anything but intentional, and Keith’s heart flutters behind his ribs and he knows.

Knows exactly what game Lance is playing and he knows the rules. Keeping his own expression calmly neutral, he shifts his own side of the blanket, his forearm sliding against Lance’s and their knuckles just barely brushing. Keith is staring hard out the window, not daring to look at Lance, but he thinks he looks just a little pink from the corner of his eye.

Neither of them speaks, but only a few ticks later, Lance’s socked foot slides over to rest against Keith’s.

Except for their shoulders, they’re still barely touching, but Keith’s heart hammers in his chest like Lance had taken him to the ground and had his way with him – which, hey, nice thought – rather than barely touched his hand once or twice. But he can’t help it because he knows what it means, knows what Lance is doing.

He knows he's acting like a middle-schooler with their first crush, but he can't help the warmth in his cheeks or the pounding of his heart any more than he can fly the castle or even control his own damn thermostat. Part of the reason he’s reacting so strongly, Keith reasons to himself, is because of how unexpected this is. Lance McClain, biggest flirt in the known galaxies, is sitting here next to him blushing and playing coy. And Keith has barely let himself think about Lance, barely let himself look, really look, at Lance like he knows he wants to because he always assumed it was an exercise in futility. Lance usually seems like he tolerates Keith at best, and with his infatuation with the princess, Keith had just assumed he was straight.

It's beginning to seem like Keith should just stop assuming things.

A fleeting thought enters his head that maybe Lance knows about the feelings Keith has kept under lock and key, that he’s somehow found Keith out and is just messing with him. You can’t fake a blush like that though, Keith thinks, and besides, Lance may be inclined towards practical jokes, but he’s not cruel. They’ve been through enough together than Keith trusts him. Trusts him to have his back in a fight, and trusts that Lance wouldn’t toy with his feelings on a whim, if he knew.

If Keith wants to keep playing this little game, he knows it’s his turn to move. He shifts his leg so that his thigh is pressing along Lance’s bringing their knees close enough that, with Keith’s hand resting on his knee and Lance’s hand resting on his own, their pinky fingers are close enough to touch.

Lance hesitates, before seeming to steel himself and twining his pinky around Keith’s, staring resolutely out the window, pink to the tips of his ears. Keith suspects this might be having a similar effect on Lance to the one it’s having on him.

Keith recognizes that Lance has taken the bigger leap here. Everything up until this point could be brushed off as coincidence, just friends being pals, getting comfortable, enjoying each other’s company. With Lance’s finger looped through his though, there’s no going back. The next move is up to Keith.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Keith drops Lance’s pinky and shifts his hand to hover over Lance’s, then coaxes Lance’s hand up with his fingertips and laces their fingers together. Both of their faces are burning, and neither of them are looking at each other, and the whole process of them getting to this point, just to hold hands, suddenly seems so ridiculous that Keith can’t help bursting into laughter.

Lance is startled into looking at him, and Keith’s forehead finds Lance’s shoulder as he continues to laugh. After a moment, Lance’s laughter joins Keith’s and when Keith looks up at him, his gaze is so tender and his smile is so bright that Keith has to look away again.

They settle again, for real this time, fingers laced between them, and Keith thinks fuck it and leans into Lance to lay his head on his shoulder. Lance tenses for a moment before his head drops onto Keith’s, his cheek pressing into Keith’s hair.

It surprises both of them when Keith is the one to break the silence, murmuring, “So what were you doing out here? I thought everyone would be asleep.” Lance’s head lifts from his to glance down at him then back out to the window, and Keith feels him stiffen, lifting his own head from Lance’s shoulder to check his expression. Keith isn’t a master of social interaction, but Lance almost looks…embarrassed?

Lance shakes his head. “You’ll make fun of me.”

Keith nods sagely. “Yeah, probably. You just make it so easy.” He nudges Lance and throws him a lopsided grin.

Lance snorts and nudges him back. “Jerk.”

Neither of them says anything for a few moments before Keith breaks the silence again. “I won’t actually make fun of you if it’s something you want to talk about. I mean I know I’m not the greatest, uh, people person but um, you can talk about it. If you want.” Keith flushes. Smooth.

Lance’s mouth turns down, and Keith adds quickly, “I mean, you don’t have to say, I don’t mean to pry if it’s something personal. I get it. But I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

Lance glances at him, before staring off again looking uncertain. Keith brushes his thumb back and forth over Lance’s knuckles in what he hopes is a soothing gesture, and Lance does seem to relax slightly.

And the moment feels so surreal, because Keith didn’t ever think he’d be the one reassuring loud-mouthed, over-sharing Lance, whose personal life he knew far more details about than he had ever asked for or wanted to know; Lance, who often could not be convinced to not share whatever thought came into his head at any given point, that he could share with Keith if he wanted, and it’s especially surreal that it’s happening while they’re snuggled under a blanket together, holding hands in the middle of the night, in a giant space castle floating through the stars.

Keith is ready to let it go, let them lapse back into silence almost like he had never said anything at all. Almost, except that Lance is still tense next to him, still has an unhappy furrow between his brows, his eyes looking down to the floor instead of out into space.

Long moments pass before Lance sighs heavily, leaning his head back to rest against the pillar, closing his eyes with his face angled away from Keith.

“I…” he trails off and sighs again. With Lance’s eyes closed, Keith studies him carefully. Lance’s close-cropped hair is growing out, the sides just long enough to brush the tops of his ears. There’s a tiny cut on his jaw that looks like he nicked himself shaving, and another longer cut high up on his cheekbone, likely a souvenir from one of their recent firefights. Keith has his own ever-replenishing array of cuts and bruises, but it still makes him frown in sympathy.

“I was just lonely, I guess,” Lance manages.

Keith hesitates. “You were lonely, so you… came out to sit by yourself in the middle of the night?”

“See I knew you were gonna make fun of me!” Lance sits up and glowers at Keith, but doesn’t drop his hand.

“I’m not!” Keith argues, his grip tightening just in case. “I just don’t really understand. You’ve gotta admit it sounds a little strange.”

Lance narrows his eyes at him and Keith thinks maybe he fucked up, before Lance shrugs and concedes with a small chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”

When it seems like Lance isn’t in danger of pulling away, Keith loosens his hand again, returning to stroking over his knuckles which seems to help Lance’s nerves.

Lance takes a deep breath and seems to come to a decision.

“So it’s like this…” And Lance leans back against the pillar again, letting his eyes fall shut as he begins.

Keith listens, and watches Lance as he talks. A little nostalgic smile turns Lance’s lips up as he talks about his childhood in Cuba, with his brothers and sisters and cousins all right there, always someone to play with, something to do. It’s such a stark difference from Keith’s upbringing that he can hardly imagine it, but it sounds nice.

Keith learns that when Lance needed time alone, just to be away from everyone for a little while, he would sneak onto the roof of his family’s house at night and watch the stars. Everything just sort of melted away in those moments, just him and the sky.

“It’s what made me fall in love with space,” Lance says softly. “It’s why I joined the Garrison in the first place, I wanted to travel to space someday. I mean and to be an awesome fighter pilot, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Keith rolls his eyes with a smile. After a beat he says, “But hey, you are in space.”

Lance nods. “You’ve got a point there. Definitely not like I pictured it, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” Keith agrees, and Lance’s weight settles just a little more heavily into his side.

Lance takes a deep breath.

“But the point is, coming to be by myself out here makes me feel like, I dunno, like it’s my choice to be alone for a little while? Rather than… I just miss everyone back on Earth, y’know? And my- my mom she doesn’t even— and I’m…” Lance squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, and his hand tightens around Keith’s almost painfully and Keith really hopes he isn’t going to cry because he is really not equipped to deal with this. It’s a tense few seconds, but Lance seems to get a hold of himself.

“I’m just. I’m always fucking lonely, dude. This just makes me feel like I have a little control over it.” Lance falls quiet again and lets out a shuddering breath. “This is literally the most I have touched another human being since the night we found Shiro.”

And Keith gets it. It’s been much longer for him, living alone in the desert not being particularly conducive to human contact, but he’s used to it. For Lance, who’s used to having people around, unused to craving contact he can’t have, Keith knows it’s so much worse.

Keith has no idea what to say. He should definitely say something though so he says, “But you’ve got all of us here though, right?”

Lance huffs out a laugh, but it’s not a happy sound. Apparently that was not the right thing to say. “Right. Because everyone’s just dying to hang out with Lance.”

Keith is taken aback. “What do you—”

“Come on, dude, Pidge and Hunk have their science-y gadget stuff, and you’re always on the training deck, and Shiro is always talking strategy or missions or whatever with the princess. The only one who’s ever actually around is Coran, and he always makes me clean stuff! I just. Sometimes I just don’t really feel like I belong.”

And shit, Keith doesn’t know what to say to that! He had no idea Lance had been feeling this way. This is Shiro’s forte, not his; Shiro always knows what to say, how to encourage them and raise their spirits. But Shiro isn’t here. And Keith is a poor substitute he knows, but Lance won’t look at him, though his weight is still heavy against Keith’s side, and he just looks so lost…

“You’re an important part of the team, Lance,” Keith tries, and grimaces at himself as soon as the words leave his mouth, his consolation sounding flat even to his own ears. Lance doesn’t acknowledge him, but Keith can feel him start to shift away, his fingers starting to unlace from Keith’s own. Keith’s only thought is a desperate NO and then he’s just reacting, reaching across them to grab Lance’s shoulder and turn him towards him so they’re sitting cross-legged face to face. The angle of their hands is awkward like this, so Keith lets go and gently circles Lance’s wrist with his hand instead. When Lance keeps his head turned away he grabs his chin and forces Lance’s head up.

“Hey. Look at me.”

And Lance must hear something in his voice because he actually does, and Keith doesn’t know what to say but he opens his mouth and starts talking anyway.

“You do belong here. The Blue Lion chose you, Lance. The team wouldn’t be the same without you. And personally, if we’re going to be saving the universe with giant flying robot lions that turn into a giant flying robot man and fighting an empire of tyrannical purple aliens for the foreseeable future, I’d definitely rather have you by my side.”

The small smile Lance offers him encourages Keith to continue.

“I know the two of us don’t always, uh, see eye to eye, but I’m really glad you’re here.” He clears his throat. Lance’s eyes are on him and their faces are so close that Keith can see just how blue they are, reflecting the dim illumination of the castle’s running lights.

Keith swallows. It’s his turn to take the next leap. “I like the way I feel when I’m around you,” he says softly. He hesitates. “Lance I…I…I…”  His heart is thundering against his ribs and his breaths are coming shallow and he feels like he can’t fill his lungs. Lance seems to sense his struggle and twists his wrist in Keith’s hand to run his hand up and down Keith’s forearm, silently encouraging.

“I really like you,” he breathes out, squeezing his eyes closed, feeling vulnerable and suddenly afraid to look at Lance’s face.

“Hey,” Lance says softly, his other hand raising to brush Keith’s bangs away from his forehead. Keith tentatively opens his eyes. Lance shifts towards Keith until their noses and foreheads are touching, Keith going slightly cross-eyed in the process. “I- I- I- really like you too.” The stutter is over-exaggerated, and his eyes glint, an impish smile playing on his lips.

Keith bursts into laughter at the unexpected ribbing and playfully shoves Lance away from him. “Unbelievable,” he says through a grin. “I bare my soul to you and this is the repayment I get? And who’s making fun of who now, huh?”

Lance has the decency to at least pretend to look contrite, but he can’t help the smile that keeps creeping back onto his face. It’s adorable and Keith’s heart does a funny little flip .

“I was just trying to lighten the mood a little, man. You looked like you were about to have an aneurysm.”

“What a way to go though, can you imagine?” Keith laughs, feeling light. “Paladin of Voltron, the most powerful weapon in the universe, survives near-death experiences on the daily, dies from having feelings.”

“I’d resuscitate you,” Lance says confidently. “I’ve heard mouth-to-mouth works wonders on that condition.” Lance meets Keith’s eyes with a wink and a smirk and Keith’s stomach does a somersault. “And on that note…” Lance murmurs, voice dropping low in a way that has Keith’s breath hitching, expression sliding from playful into something sharper, more intent. “I would really like to kiss you now.”

“Yeah.” Keith nods, hearing his own voice go rough. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And Lance’s hand is cupping Keith’s jaw and Keith has a hand curling behind Lance’s neck and their lips are pressing together in a slow, sweet slide that has Keith sighing into Lance’s mouth and his eyes falling shut. Lance hums and presses forward, the hand on Keith’s face sliding back to tangle in his hair, his other hand coming to grip Keith’s knee, using it as leverage as he edges closer to him as much as he can with their knees bumping into each other.

Keith’s hands slide to Lance’s shoulders, his warm skin unbelievably soft, before trailing up Lance’s neck to hold his face in both hands, his fingertips just brushing the short hairs at the nape of Lance’s neck. He thumbs Lance’s cheekbones before sliding a hand to rest again on the back of his neck, tilting his head as the kiss deepens. The blanket falls away from their shoulders unnoticed, Keith’s earlier chill forgotten with the heat starting to thrum through his veins.

Keith kisses Lance not slowly exactly, but controlled, easing them into a rhythm, breath mingling and Lance humming pleased little sounds against his lips.

It’s been so, so long for them both, that when Keith softly brushes Lance’s lower lip with his tongue— tentative, undemanding— that when Lance immediately opens for him, the first brush of their tongues is fucking electrifying. And Keith knows Lance feels it too, if his hot little gasp and answering whine are anything to go by. Heat pools low in Keith’s belly as their tongues twine together, tasting and exploring each other’s mouths. Keith is almost shaking with the effort it’s taking to behave himself, to keep his hands where they belong, not push or pull too roughly, to exert enough self-control to not mark up the long, slender line of Lance’s throat with his teeth and tongue. Because Lance is more than halfway in his lap making these breathy little sounds and Keith just wants to fucking devour him.

Keith pulls Lance’s lower lip between his teeth, not necessarily as delicately as he probably could have, and slides the tip of his tongue along the length of it. Lance shudders and moans, tightening his grip in Keith’s hair, and holy shit that’s a thing, a spike of hot arousal scorching through him, and he startles himself as much as it must startle Lance when he groans low in his throat and less-than-gently tugs Lance fully on top of him, overbalancing them and landing on his back with Lance’s hands braced on either side of his head, knees bracketing his hips.

Lance gazes down at him for a moment, breathing heavy and eyes glazed.

Through the haze, Keith is worried for a moment that this might be too fast; they haven’t exactly had a chance to talk boundaries or limits or preferences. He tries to get a read on Lance’s face to gauge his reaction, tongue darting out to wet his kiss-swollen lips. Lance’s eyes are immediately on his mouth, and he hesitates for a moment before something seems to snap in him and he whines, “How are you so fucking hot,”   before surging against him, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

And Keith must not have been the only one trying to hold back, because Lance is kissing him like he’s starving for it, licking into his mouth and burying a hand back into his hair. His fist closes in Keith’s hair again, not rough exactly but not gently either, and Keith’s whole body tenses and he moans like it was punched out of him.

Lance pulls back, panting, eyes searching his face. “Good sound or bad?”

Keith’s heart warms that Lance is checking on him, but all he can focus on is gasping, “Good. Good, so good, fuck Lance,” and bringing him back down to keep assaulting his mouth.

Keith’s hands land heavily on Lance’s hips, his thumbs brushing the skin of his hipbones where his shirt hangs loose. Lance moans his approval, the hand that’s not keeping him braced over Keith moving to grab Keith’s wrist and guide his hand up his shirt.

Given permission, Keith’s hands are all over Lance in an instant, palming across planes of hard muscle under silky skin, breaking the kiss to ease Lance’s shirt over his head and gasping as Lance’s hips settle onto his.

Given the circumstances, Keith isn’t exactly surprised, but it’s gratifying to feel that Lance is just as affected as he is.

He braces his hands on Lance’s hips again, holding him still against him. “Can I…?” Keith whispers, and grinds his hips up just enough to get the point across.

“Yes. Yes, definitely yes,” Lance moans and then takes the initiative, rocking his hips down onto Keith’s forcefully, dragging low groans out of them both.

Keith’s eyes roll back when Lance grinds his hips again in a slow, practiced roll, Lance pushing himself to up to gaze down at Keith. Lance’s hands reach for the hem of Keith’s t-shirt, his knuckles just barely brushing the skin of his hip. “Can I?” Lance echoes.

Keith’s lips tug up into a lopsided grin. “Definitely yes.” And then Lance is tugging him up by the shoulders, and Keith is confused for a moment before he realizes that Lance is pulling the discarded blanket underneath him to keep his back from touching the cold floor, and Keith doesn’t have any time to process how that makes him feel before his shirt is being lifted over his head and down his arms and he’s flat on his back again with Lance blinking down at him.

Lance’s eyes are wide and dark as he takes Keith in, mouth parted and lips shiny. It’s an astonishingly good look on him, and Lance seems to be enjoying his view as much as Keith is enjoying his own. Keith gives Lance another second, but when he just keeps staring, says, “You good? You kinda look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Lance blinks rapidly at Keith’s words and seems to come back to himself. “A ghost? Nah. Possibly an angel though.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Keith can’t help but laugh.

“Dude, gay.”

Lance grins. “Actually, you know what? Maybe I saw a ghost after all. You’re certainly pale enough to be one.” To illustrate, he splays a golden-brown hand across Keith’s chest, the contrast in their skin tones evident even in the low light.

Keith huffs. “Well we can’t all be Cuban sun gods. If we ever end up on an ice planet at least I’ll have natural camouflage.”

Lance crosses his arms and stares skeptically down at Keith, though Keith doesn’t miss the way Lance’s eyes roam over his body before he meets his eyes again. “Your Paladin armor is red, Keith. You’re telling me that if we end up on an ice planet, that you’re just planning on being naked? To be camouflaged?”

Keith’s mouth opens on a retort, but Lance talks over him. “And it wouldn’t work anyway! Anyone would be able to see your stupid mop of hair from a mile away.”

“Oh my hair is stupid, is it?” Keith growls, and shifts, ready to flip Lance over but Lance counterbalances over him, anchoring himself and making himself much more difficult to topple.

Lance’s smug little grin is insufferable. “Mhm. I really like this part of it though.” And Keith is not ready at all, for Lance to bury a hand back in his hair and tug, right at the roots. Keith’s shocked moan echoes against the high walls as his back bows, and the heat that was simmering under his skin flares bright and blazing. Lance’s eyes dance wickedly, then widen in surprise as Keith snarls and shoves into him, any finesse or technique abandoned in favor of brute force to get Lance on his back, with just enough presence of mind to make sure Lance's bare skin lands on the blanket.

Lance’s breath rushes out of him in a whoosh, and before he can get his breath back, Keith is attacking his neck, sucking bruising kisses into his skin, a dark, greedy part of himself pleased that Lance is going to have a hell of a time keeping the marks Keith is leaving covered up.

Lance’s hands card through Keith’s hair and across his back and shoulders, tense and gasping under Keith’s mouth. Keith pulls back to admire his handiwork, proud to see color blooming under Lance’s tanned skin. Without thinking, Keith presses his thumb firmly into one of the splashes of color. Lance jerks and hisses, smacking Keith’s hand away, his hand covering his neck protectively.

“Dude.” He scowls up at Keith. “Ow.”

Keith could throw himself out an airlock.  “Oh fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know why I— Are you okay?”

Lance’s expression softens. “S’okay. Just tender. I’m not opposed to a little rough handling, but maybe no poking at bruises, yeah?”

Keith nods, chagrined. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Lance’s hand falls away from his neck and he reaches back up to Keith with a smile. “I know. Forgiven and forgotten. And for the record, except for the last tick and a half, I was really into it.”

Keith brushes his nose against Lance’s. “Yeah?” He noses his way into Lance’s hair, breathing him in. How does he smell so good?

“Mhm. I kinda like being marked up. It’s like, I don’t know, like I’m being claimed, sort of?”

A possessive thrill like liquid napalm rockets through Keith’s veins, staggering with its intensity. A thousand images crash through Keith’s mind all at once: Lance with hickeys blossoming on his neck and chest, Lance crying out and begging underneath him, Lance with fingerprint-shaped bruises circling his hips, Lance with thin raised claw marks decorating his smooth back (claw? No, nail marks), Lance fucked out and satisfied in a nest of blankets, Lance baring his throat asking for—, Lance, Lance, Lance, mine, mine, mine.

Distantly, Keith is a little frightened by the sudden ferocity of his response, but it’s impossible to focus on with the wildfire burning in his blood.

Clearly unaware of the effect his words have just had on Keith, Lance grimaces and says, “I’m sorry, that sounded way weirder out loud, I didn’t mean like I think that you, like—”

“Lance,” Keith grits out. “Stop talking.”

“Huh?” Lance blinks up at him. Keith has no idea what kind of expression he’s got on his face, but it must clue Lance in to what’s going on inside of him, at least to some extent, because he watches as Lance’s confusion morphs into understanding, and his lips slowly curve into a wicked, delighted grin.

Ohhh. Oh. You like that.” Lance’s eyes are half-lidded, and he gazes coquettishly up at Keith through his lashes. Takes in the way Keith’s breaths are coming harsh, fists clenched tight on either side of Lance’s head, and his gaze lowers to where Keith’s dick is straining against his sweats. Lance’s eyebrows raise a fraction. “Damn. You like that a lot.” He doesn’t sound displeased about it.

“You wanna mark me up, huh?” Lance continues, teasing. “You want everyone to know you’ve had me just by looking at me? Want everyone to know who I belong to?”

And dimly Keith knows that Lance is just teasing him, just saying it to get under his skin, but fuck is it working. And Lance needs to stop talking because with his voice low and dripping honey, Keith wants to fucking tear him apart. Lance’s smirk says that he knows exactly what he’s doing to Keith.

“Lance,” Keith’s tone has a warning edge to it.

“Uh-uh,” Lance shakes his head, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “Don’t ‘Lance’ me. You fucking like that shit. You looked like you were about to eat me alive just now. Matter of fact, you still do, you kinky motherfu—mmf!”

Lance is cut off by Keith’s palm clapping roughly over his mouth. “Matter of fact,”   Keith growls over Lance’s surprised grunt, “you don’t stop talking like I told you to, and I just fucking might.” Lance’s eyes widen and he shudders under Keith.

With Lance temporarily silenced, Keith can finally breathe and think for a second. He doesn’t know where this feverishly possessive side of him is coming from; he’s had other partners, not a lot, but enough to know that he knows what he’s doing, and none of them had inspired in him this needy, frantic desire to claim, to mark, to leave no question that his mate is off limits.

That Keith has just thought of Lance as his mate gives him pause for a moment, but a shift of his hips coupled with the way Lance has gone pliant and wide-eyed underneath him tells him that even if it’s unexpected, Lance is definitely into it. It’s Keith’s turn to smirk.

“You’re right, Lance.” Keith feels his voice drop low and dangerous. “I do want to mark you up. I want everyone to see you and know that you’re mine, know what a little slut you are for me.” He leans in and licks a long line over the marks he’s already left and feels the vibration of Lance’s moan against his hand. “But before I put a single mark more on your pretty skin…” Keith lets his hand drop away from Lance’s mouth and leans close, growling into Lance’s ear, “You’re going to fucking beg me for it.”

And God, Keith is so done for. Lance fucking whines , the desperate sound shooting straight to his cock. Lance’s hips jerk up helplessly and he gasps a breathless, “Fuck.”

Keith drags a thumb across Lance’s lower lip, humming when Lance’s tongue curls around it. Keith raises an eyebrow, keeping Lance’s eyes locked on his. “Go on then.”

Lance’s eyes spark and he’s still a little breathless but his lips tug up in a defiant grin, and Keith’s chest swells with helpless affection. “You’re good,” Lance says, “but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to get me to beg.”

“Oh honey,” Keith says, brushing his fingers gently through Lance’s hair. “I’ve barely gotten started.”

A ragged groan erupts from Lance’s mouth as Keith closes his fist in Lance’s hair in a punishing grip, dragging Lance up to meet him in a bruising kiss. Lance gets his own fist in Keith’s hair and they gasp into each other’s mouths as their hips rock together.

“Lance,” Keith gasps, pulling back, pushing Lance down into the floor when he whines and tries to reclaim Keith’s mouth. He grips Lance’s jaw roughly when he struggles against him. “Lance.” Keith hardens his voice and Lance goes still beneath him. “I need you to listen to me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”

Lance nods, eyes wide.

“If you ever, ever need me to stop or slow down, or if I do something that hurts in a way you don’t like, I need you to tell me, okay?” Because the things I want to do to you and how much I want them is a little alarming frankly, and I really don't want to scare you offhe doesn't say, but he thinks Lance might understand anyway.

Looking a little less dazed, Lance nods again.

“I need words from you, baby. Promise me.” Keith’s tone leaves no room for argument.

“Yes. Yes, I promise,” Lance says fervently. “You too. You promise too.”

Keith smiles. “I promise.” He leans back down to capture Lance’s mouth in an achingly tender kiss that has his heart fluttering. He kisses across Lance’s cheek, nosing into his jaw. “Now correct me if I’m wrong,” he murmurs into the soft skin under Lance’s ear, “but I’m pretty sure I was in the process of making you beg.”

Lance’s hands settle easily on Keith’s waist as he hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I think you were in the process of trying, at least.”

Keith’s answering grin is all teeth. “Oh you are so in for it.”

Lance puts up a good fight, but it only takes Keith a few moments of grappling with him to get Lance on his front between his knees, one hand splayed on his smooth back to keep his chest to floor and the other roughly hauling Lance’s hips up, steadying him until he gets his knees underneath him.

Keith allows himself just a moment to grind his hips into Lance’s ass, a teasing promise of what’s to come. Lance huffs out a breath and circles his hips back, a clear message that he’s not going to let Keith be the only one doing the teasing. Keith snaps the waistband of Lance’s shorts. “Off,” he commands.

Lance shifts to roll over onto his back to obey, but Keith locks his hands tight around Lance’s hips to keep him still. “Uh-uh. Just like this.”

Lance grumbles, but braces his upper body with a shoulder on the floor and reaches back to drag his shorts and boxers down over his ass. God damn that’s a view.

“Can’t even help me get these off, can he? Gotta do everything myself around here,” Lance mutters, cheek pressing into the blanket as he shifts his shorts down his thighs then past his knees, thumbs hooking into socks to peel them off as he pulls it all off from around his ankles, leaving him completely exposed under Keith’s hungry eyes.

Lance pushes back up onto his hands as Keith says, “I’m sorry, did I hear you say something?”

“Hm?” Lance says, eyeing Keith over his shoulder. “Oh. Yeah. See what I said was that I always have to do everything my— nnngh!” A sharp crack rings through the room as Keith brings his hand down hard on Lance’s bare ass cheek.

“Sorry,” Keith says conversationally. “I didn’t quite catch that. What was it you were saying?”

“I said— ah! Fuck!” Keith’s other hand comes down just as hard, twin handprints rising in just the faintest pink on Lance’s warm skin.

“See that’s what I thought you said.” Keith palms Lance’s ass, spreading his cheeks enough to give him a tantalizing view of his dusky pink asshole. “Any other insights you’d like to share with the class?”

“Hah,” Lance gasps. “Yeah. Fuck you ohhh my God, Keith fuckfuckfuck nnnnngh!”

Keith smirks against Lance’s skin as he laves the flat of his tongue over Lance’s hole before pointing his tongue and driving it into him. Lance twitches around Keith’s tongue as he shudders and moans, his head dropping low between his shoulders. Keith spreads Lance’s cheeks wider as he alternates between flicking the point of his tongue over Lance’s fluttering hole and dragging his tongue across him, spit beginning to run down his chin.

“That’s the idea, sweetheart.”

Keith keeps working at him, curling and pressing his tongue into him, Lance making these little “ah, ah ah” sounds that are driving Keith crazy. Keith hums against Lance as he palms himself through his sweats, desperate for some friction to take the edge off. He hadn’t actively intended for the vibration to set Lance off, but Lance sinks to his elbows, trembling, helpless hiccupping moans escaping him as Keith hums again, keeping up the vibrations through his tongue.

“Keith, Keith, oh my god fuck don’t stop!” Lance gasps, rolling his hips back in twitchy little thrusts as Keith’s tongue curls again inside him. Keith licks at him for a moment more, before pulling back and admiring the picture that Lance makes. On his elbows, Lance’s back is arched into an impossibly deep curve, ass on full display, cock hard and straining, a bead of precum welling at the tip. Keith gives himself a moment to take Lance in like this, wanting this image to be burned into his memory forever. Keith has to clench his teeth to keep from sinking them into Lance’s skin.

Lance’s protesting whine at being abandoned is cut off when Keith drags the pad of his thumb over where he’s spit-slick and presses just the barest amount inside, and his dick twitches when Lance whimpers, bucking his hips back, trying to get more.

“Easy, baby,” Keith murmurs, pressing kisses against Lance’s tailbone, unable to stop himself from nipping at him between kisses. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I can take it,” Lance gasps, rocking his hips back and groaning in frustration when it doesn’t get Keith any deeper. “Open me up and fuck me, c'mon.” And fuck Keith wants to, wants to so much, the heat of his desire to take Lance right here, just like this, almost hot enough to melt his resolve. But Lance deserves so much better than a quick fuck on a hard floor with nothing but spit for lube, and it’s that thought that keeps Keith in control of himself.

Keith drapes himself over Lance’s back, hips pressed right up against Lance’s ass so he can feel how hard Keith is through his sweats. “There is a zero percent chance that I am going to fuck you on the floor without any lube.”

“But I want it,” Lance pouts, rolling his hips back in a clear effort to change Keith’s mind. Keith peppers a few kisses over Lance’s shoulder blades, and with a gentle shove Lance allows himself to be rolled onto his back, Keith kneeling between his legs.

Keith doesn’t answer, just runs his hands over Lance’s skin, squeezing his hips and thighs, dragging his fingertips down his taut stomach. He circles his thumbs in the dips of Lance’s hips, a teasing massage just shy of where he’s hard and straining up towards his stomach. Lance’s eyes flutter closed as his hips twitch under Keith’s hands. Clearly thinking that he’s about to get what he wants, Lance allows Keith to just touch him without complaint.

Keith leans down to kiss and suck across Lance’s chest, careful not to leave any marks. He fully intends for Lance to beg him to mark him again before the night is over. He presses light kisses down Lance’s stomach, the skin soft and warm against his lips, before kissing back up and dragging his tongue over a nipple.

Keith is unprepared for the way Lance jolts under him and he hisses out a strangled “Fuck!”, his cock sliding against Keith’s stomach. Well, well, well. “Oh really?” Keith murmurs against Lance’s skin, redoubling his efforts, licking and sucking at his nipple as Lance gasps writhes under him, hands mindlessly clenching in the blanket beneath him. When Keith glances up, Lance has a flush high in his cheekbones, his mouth open and panting, lips shiny. He’s so fucking beautiful and Keith wants.  

He switches to lick and suck at Lance’s other nipple, tweaking the first one just to hear Lance yelp, before pulling off and looking down at him.

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Keith, I’m not sure how much more clear I can make it.”

Keith uses Lance’s knee as leverage to push himself onto his feet and says, “Good. Get up and put your pants on.”

“I’m sorry, what? That is like the opposite of—”

“Lance I am not going to let your first time be on a floor  without any decent prep. You have lube in your room, I assume?”

Lance has an odd look on his face, but allows Keith to pull him to his feet. “I do, yeah.” Lance’s eyes shift uncomfortably away from Keith’s. “How, uh, how did you know this was my first time?”

“What? No, I meant your first time with…” Oh. Oh. Wait, what? Keith’s brain skids to a screeching halt.

This was… Lance’s…

That couldn’t be right. Oh God, Keith had… Keith had fucking spanked him and , and rimmed him, and… oh, God Keith had fucking called him a slut.

He stares at Lance in horror.

It’s some sort of miracle that Lance hadn’t already left running and screaming by now, Keith thinks. He should’ve been so much gentler, should’ve checked in more. Keith had never considered himself to be an inconsiderate lover before but…

“I didn’t…”

Lance’s jaw clenches as he picks up his discarded shorts and underwear and steps into them, before turning to face Keith with his arms crossed and eyes guarded.

“Didn’t what, Keith?”

“I didn’t know,” Keith says in a small voice.

Lance wets his lips, and Keith is disgusted with himself that he’s helpless not to watch the slide of Lance’s tongue.

“I’m not some blushing virgin, for your information,” Lance says defensively. “I’ve had sex with girls, and fooled around with a few guys too. I’ve just never… you know. And if that’s gonna be a problem for you…” he trails off, not meeting Keith’s eyes.

“Lance, hey.” Keith steps into his space, reaching for his hand. “It’s not a problem at all. I just—I should’ve been more gentle with you. I shouldn’t have…” Keith stares at where his thumb brushes against Lance’s knuckles.

Lance snorts and tilts Keith’s chin up. “Keith. Do you want to have sex with me?”

“I—what?”

“It’s a very simple question. Just yes or no. Do you want to have sex with me?”

And with Lance right in front of him, looking so expectant, his lips still kiss-swollen and neck littered with bruises that Keith put there, skin glowing in the starlight, how can Keith say anything but yes? “Yes,” Keith breathes, overwhelmed with how much he wants it, not just to fuck him but to hold him, have him, keep him. But he’s not ready to say that yet, so he just says, “So much Lance, you have no idea. I want all of you.”

Lance leans in and places a quick, firm kiss on his lips. “Good. Because I want you too. And, full disclosure, tonight has been like, the hottest night of my entire life. I don’t want you to hold back, or treat me like I’m fragile just because I haven’t done this before.” He leans in again to kiss Keith, then once more, almost like he can’t help himself. It’s adorable.

“Ok.” Keith reaches up to tenderly brush Lance’s sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. “Just. If you ever want me to ease up, even just a little…”

“I know, I know.” Lance rolls his eyes, taking Keith’s hand and brushing a kiss across his knuckles. “If I am ever uncomfortable you will be the first person to know, I guarantee.” Lance plants a wet, smacking kiss in the middle of Keith’s forehead before cupping Keith’s face and squishing his cheeks between his hands so that Keith’s face goes pudgy and his lips puff out. Lance holds him there and stares deep into his eyes. “Are we done freaking out about my gay sex virginity? If there’s another crisis imminent, I’d rather we go ahead and get it all out now rather than when you’ve got your dick up my ass.”

Keith chokes on his tongue and has to spend a moment coughing before he can speak again. “There was no  crisis, for one thing,” Keith gripes, shaking Lance’s hands off. “Excuse me for being concerned that your first experience with this is a good one. And for another, keep being snarky and see what happens.”

Lance grins. “Thanks for the offer, I think I will.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Keith says, fond despite himself.

“I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Keith snorts. “I bet you really don’t.”

“So,” Lance says, waggling his eyebrows and ignoring Keith’s jab. “Your place or mine?”

“Unless you want to fuck in an icebox, I think it better be yours.”

“Then let’s go.” Lance’s hand drops to Keith’s ass and gives it a good squeeze before grabbing his hand and tugging Keith along behind him.

Lance’s door slides open, and the boys step inside. Keith pulls Lance down into a tender kiss, sliding his hands around his waist. Lance returns the kiss, but places his hands on Keith’s shoulders and eases him back. At Keith’s questioning noise, Lance says, “Can I ask you something?”

Keith strokes his hands up and down Lance’s bare sides. “Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“So um, you know how the med bay runs a full diagnostic on us any time we get a little banged up, to like check for signs of infection and stuff?”

Keith thinks he knows where Lance is going with this, and desire pools low in his belly. “I’m aware.”

“Well, it checks for other things too. Like, did you know that Pidge is allergic to pomegranates?”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I did not.”

Lance coughs. “Right. I mean, well the point is, the diagnostics would’ve told us if either of us wasn’t, um, clean. And since it hasn’t…”

Yes, yes, fuck he wants it so much. But he wants Lance to ask for it. “Yes?”

“Since it hasn’t…” Lance swallows, then seems to settle into himself, eyes going half-lidded and sharp, a little smirk on his face. “I would really, really like it if you would raw me into next week.”

The mental picture that summons has the heat in his belly flaring bright and hot. Keith’s responding grin is all teeth, and he closes the remaining space between them to tilt Lance’s head back with a grip in his hair and growl into his ear, “You want that, baby? Want me to fuck you til you scream and fill your tight little hole when I come? Want me to sink my teeth into your pretty neck so everyone knows you’re mine?”

Keith can sense more than see the way Lance’s self-assured little smirk falls away on a groan and a breathy “Yes.”

“Good. But before I do either, you will beg me for it, do you understand?” His hand clenches tighter in Lance’s hair.

Keith half expects Lance to challenge him, to come back at him with some taunt or snide remark, but Lance shudders and goes pliant in his arms with only a moan as response. Lance’s easy submission is a heady rush, and Keith is going to take such good care of this gorgeous boy in his arms, is going to take him apart piece by piece, make him feel so good, so wanted and cherished and special because he is, he is.

Out loud Keith says, “I asked you a question.”

With his head still forced back with the hand in his hair, Lance gasps, “I understand. Keith, Keith I want it, I’ll be good.”

Keith has to bite back a groan. “You gonna be a good boy for me, baby?”

Lance nods with the limited range of motion Keith is giving him, whimpers “I will, I will.” Lance whines as his hips twitch into Keith’s. Keith can feel Lance’s rising tension and lets go of his hair to pet his face and ease him back with a hand on his hip.

“Shh, I know you will. I’m gonna take such good care of you, make you feel so good.” Keith eases their lips together, fighting his own desperation against Lance’s ragged moan as their tongues slide together. Keith gets lost in it for a moment, tasting and breathing Lance in, his skin warm and soft under his hands, Lance’s own hands sliding over Keith’s shoulders and chest and through his hair. When he breaks away, they’re both breathing heavily, and he can feel Lance’s cock as a solid line of heat through their clothes and he knows Lance can feel him as well.

“Clothes off and on the bed for me.”

Lance hurries to obey, shedding everything at once then laying back on the bed, shoulders propped up with his pillows. Lance puts out a hand to stop him when Keith moves to climb on top of him. “You too.”

Keith chuckles but hooks his thumbs in his waistband and removes his pants and boxers at once. Keith is struck still by Lance’s expression, as he realizes he’s already gotten to see Lance out of all of his clothes once before, but this is the first time Lance has seen him.

Lance stares, his eyes raking over Keith’s body with an expression of awe and open adoration. His mouth hangs slightly open and Keith isn’t sure Lance is even aware of the way his tongue keeps sliding out to wet his lips.

It’s only another moment until Lance is reaching for him and rasping out, “Can I suck you off? Please let me, Keith I want it.”

Without waiting for an answer, Lance slides off the bed and onto floor on his knees, hands sliding up Keith’s hips but staring up at him and waiting. Lance’s tongue darts out again to wet his lips, anticipating his answer but waiting for him to say it.

Keith cards a hand through Lance’s hair. “Yeah, baby, go ahead. Show me what you can do with that mouth.”

Lance holds Keith’s cock at the base and drags the flat of his tongue up the vein on the bottom, making Keith hiss. Lance’s tongue feels like heaven as it swirls around the head and back down, pressing teasing kisses and kitten licks up and down his shaft. A firm flick of Lance’s tongue just under the crown makes him shudder.

Another teasing curl around the head, and then Keith is being engulfed in the slick heat of Lance’s mouth. He groans and tightens his hand in Lance’s hair, hips jerking forward before he can stop himself. “Sorry, sorry,” Keith gasps.

Keith pulls back but Lance follows, slides to a stop with most of Keith’s cock buried in the heat of his mouth and stares up at him meaningfully. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll stay still.”

Lance huffs and rolls his eyes, grunting his dissent around his mouthful of cock. He reaches up to place his hand on top of Keith’s in his hair and squeezes, so that Keith’s grip is even tighter. Then to make what he wants unmistakable, grips Keith’s hip and yanks him forward so the head of Keith’s cock breaches the back of his throat.

Keith swallows. “You want me to fuck your face, baby?”

Lance’s ‘mmhmm’ is muffled but certain. Keith can’t take his eyes off Lance’s face where his lips are stretched around him and the heat and hunger in his eyes tells Keith that any question of ‘are you sure?’ will not be well-received.

Instead Keith says, “I want your hands behind your back, and don’t even think about touching yourself. You can put them on my hips if you need to stop or slow down but otherwise I don’t want to see them.”

Lance’s hands immediately go behind his back as he gazes up at Keith through his lashes. Both of Keith’s hands settle in Lance’s hair as he murmurs “Good boy. You ready?”

Lance nods as much as he can and relaxes his jaw.

Keith’s first few thrusts are gentle, letting Lance get used to the feeling and making sure he can take it. When Lance holds obediently still and lets Keith guide his head, Keith picks up the pace. Lance’s eyes have slid closed, but Keith can’t stop staring.

Lance looks like a wet dream come true, naked and flushed with arousal, his cock beading with precome just from being on his knees for Keith. Keith’s hands tighten in his hair and he thrusts in hard, the head of his cock hitting the back of Lance’s throat. Lance moans like he’s the one getting his dick sucked and swallows around him.

Keith curses and thrusts in sharp quick succession, holding Lance in place and rolling his hips. Lance is gasping and moaning, and the fire in his belly surges higher as Keith watches another bead of precome well up and slide down Lance’s straining cock.

“Ahh, fuck Lance, it’s so good, you’re so good,” Keith praises. “You’re doing so good, such a good boy for me.”

Lance keens, high and desperate, drool running down his chin. Keith thrusts faster, less restrained, the head of his cock nudging the back of Lance’s throat with each thrust. He doesn’t want to get carried away like this, wants to last, but it’s so good.

Keith can feel himself getting closer, promises himself just a moment more and then he’ll stop, when Lance pushes himself further than Keith had dared to, the tip of Keith’s cock sliding all the way into his throat, swallowing over and over, taking him even deeper.

“Oh fuck, Lance! Fuck you’re gonna make me—” Less gently than he means to, Keith forces Lance’s mouth off him, squeezes hard around the base of his cock, the sharp pinch bringing him back from the edge.

Lance pouts up at him, flushed and breathing heavily. “You could’ve come in my mouth, you know.”

Keith runs a thumb along Lance’s slick lower lip. “Another time. I don’t want to come tonight until I’m fucking you. Here,” Keith extends his hand lever him back up to his feet. “Arms and knees okay?”

Lance shakes out his shoulders places a light kiss on Keith’s lips. “Yeah. Knees are a little stiff, nothing too bad.”

“Go get the lube and lay on the bed,” Keith directs. “And stay there this time.”

Lance grins impishly but does as he’s told.

On the bed, Keith settles between Lance’s bent legs, massaging around his knees where they were pressed into the hard floor and along his calves and thighs.

Lance’s sighs and lays back. “Feels good.”

“Good. I want you to relax.” He continues to rub circles into Lance’s legs and up along his hips, but eyes the half-empty bottle of lube where it sits on the sheets beside them. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?”

“A few times, yeah,” Lance sighs as Keith digs his thumbs into his calf muscles.

“Did you like it?” Keith tries and fails not to imagine Lance with his fingers buried deep inside himself, rocking his hips down as makes those breathless little gasps that Keith is becoming gloriously familiar with.

“I—yeah I did. Always imagined it was… someone else there with me, and that made it better.” Lance was already flushed to start with so it’s hard to tell, but it looks like he’s blushing.

“Oh yeah?” Keith hums and reaches for the lube. “Anyone in particular?”

“Based on the situation we’re in right now, I kind of feel like you might have a pretty decent guess,” Lance says drily.

Keith makes a face like he’s concentrating then shrugs. “Mm, no one really comes to mind, you should just tell me. In detail. Hand me a pillow?”

Lance passes Keith one of the pillows from the head of the bed with a soft chuckle. “There was one time I remember specifically.” Keith taps Lance’s hip and he lifts them easily, allowing Keith to slide the pillow under him. “It was during training one day and Allura had us practicing hand-to-hand in pairs. We were grappling, and you’d gotten me on my stomach on the mat with my hands pinned and you were breathing really hard right into my ear. I couldn’t get out of the hold and you just pressed me down harder and told me to yield in this like, growly voice that was so fucking hot. And your whole body was pressed up against my back…” Lance takes a deep breath, closing his eyes at the memory. “I managed to hold it together, but that night I just couldn’t help it. I imagined you over me like that again, how you’d claim me, split me open.”

“God, Lance...” Keith remembers that moment too, vividly, the way Lance had felt underneath him, his strong, limber body held in place at Keith’s mercy. He had decidedly not managed to hold it together the rest of the day after that.

He settles into the space between Lance’s legs, easing them open wider and plants kisses on the inside of his knee. “I remember that too,” he murmurs into Lance skin. “You got up so fast I was worried I’d hurt you. But I couldn’t stop imagining the way you felt underneath me, I had to go back to my room almost as soon as you’d left. That was the first time I really let myself think about you. God, Lance I wanted you so bad.”

Lance hisses in a breath. “Well I’m right here underneath you now. Take me.”

Keith feels his lips curl back from his teeth and his hands tighten on Lance’s thighs, dragging his teeth across a tanned knee before forcing the heat of arousal down and gentling himself.

The cap of the lube clicks open and Keith coats his fingers, watching Lance’s face as he brushes a slick finger over his opening. He’s tight and tense, abs clenched and breathing beginning to shallow. “Easy,” Keith soothes, tracing around his rim in circles. “Focus on relaxing and breathing for me, baby. Deep breath.”

Lance takes a shuddering breath in, but it releases smoothly, tension easing out of him.

“That’s perfect. I’m gonna try pressing in now, bear down on my finger.” Lance’s eyes hold Keith’s, open and trusting and Keith can’t look away. He eases his index finger in to the second knuckle and pauses, letting Lance adjust. Lance is so tight around just one finger, hot and velvet smooth inside.

“Deep breaths,” Keith repeats, and not just for Lance’s benefit. “Okay?”

Lance’s brows are furrowed but he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. His hips keep shifting minutely, trying to adjust to the intrusion. “Yeah, yeah it’s fine. Push in the rest of the way and then give me sec.”

Keeping a close eye on Lance’s face, Keith presses in until Lance is taking his whole finger. “Take all the time you need, baby,” Keith hums, keeping still and letting Lance breathe and get used to the feeling. “You’re doing so good, Lance, taking my finger so well.”

Lance takes a few deeps breaths and settles. “You can move now.”

Slowly, Keith pulls his finger out about halfway and pushes back in, focused on finding any discomfort on Lance’s face. Finding none, he repeats the motion, Lance’s eyes fluttering closed and a warm sigh leaving his mouth as his head relaxes back onto the pillow. Keith lengthens his strokes then, pulling his finger almost all they way out and pushing back in, pressing harder. “Yeah, like that,” Lance hums, hips shifting to meet Keith’s rhythm. “I think I’m ready for anoth— hahhh shit!” Lance’s eyes fly open and his lips part around a deep groan as Keith crooks his finger again, smirking as Lance’s cock visibly pulses.

“There?” he asks, like Lance’s response isn’t resoundingly clear.

“Nnnghhn  what the fuck do you think, you— aahhhh!” Keith finger curls hard, ruthlessly rubbing against the same spot over and over. Lance’s back arches off the bed and Keith can’t help but drag his free hand up the long curve of his body from hip to sternum and back down, detouring for a few teasing strokes of Lance’s cock. A fat bead of precome rolls down the head and Lance whines, hips stuttering like he doesn’t know which sensation to chase.

“Keith, more,” Lance gasps. “I’m ready for two, c’mon.”

Keith had intended to tease more, to pull more of those gorgeous, pleading sounds out of Lance before giving him more, but Lance is already responding so wonderfully, clenching down around Keith’s finger with each press against his prostate. Keith will take whatever time Lance needs no matter what, but his own need is becoming unignorable, and if Lance says he’s ready for more then Keith isn’t going to argue.

He slides his finger out and adds more lube to his fingers, hoisting one of Lance’s legs over his shoulder, spreading him wider and dripping some lube directly over Lance’s hole. He hisses at the cold but doesn’t complain, just shifts his hips and relaxes obediently as Keith reminds him to breathe.

The press of two fingers has Keith groaning right along with Lance, and Keith swears he can feel Lance’s heartbeat from inside. He strokes in barely past his fingertips, trying to let Lance adjust to the thickness but Lance huffs and shifts his hips impatiently. “Could you hurry up already? I’m not gonna break and I would love for you to fuck me sometime this year.” His tone is petulant but his eyes are challenging, and Keith can’t help but rise to it.

Keeping a close watch on Lance’s face for any indication of too much , Keith presses his fingers in to the hilt and then immediately back out, setting a quick pace that jolts Lance’s body with each thrust. Lance’s face screws up, but the sound he makes is distinctly not one of discomfort. “Shit, ah yeah like that. Curl your fingers again.”

Keith rises up on his knees to loom over Lance, the leg over his shoulder bending up towards Lance’s chest with an impressive ease, and that is definitely an observation to file away for later. Keith slows his fingers as Lance’s glares up at him.

“I said—” Lance’s voice chokes off as fingers close around his throat, not enough to cut off his airway, just enough to startle him into silence.

“I heard you,” Keith says lowly, bending down so their faces are just inches apart. “You wanna act like a brat, you’ll get treated like one.” He punctuates his words with sharps twists of his fingers. “You’ll take what I give you and be grateful for it.” Lance glares up at him defiantly, deliberately rolling his hips to try and force Keith’s fingers deeper. Keith’s grip around his throat tightens, and Lance’s eyes widen.

“Good boys get what they want, Lance, and little brats get teased. If you want to be good for me, I would love to get you on my cock as soon as possible. But if you can’t do that, I am more than ready to take you apart piece by piece until you can’t speak but to beg me for anything I’ll give you.”

Keith removes his hand from Lance’s throat as his hips still and he gasps in air. “That’s better,” Keith murmurs. “Now. Are you gonna be good for me?”

Lance’s lips are bitten red and swollen, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s the very picture of debauchery and temptation, and with the way he’s clenching down on Keith’s fingers he hopes that Lance isn’t going to force him to make good on his threat to draw this out because he wants inside that tight, slick heat yesterday.

“I’ll be good,” Lance whispers.

Satisfied, Keith sits back. “Good boy.” He peppers kisses across the leg on his shoulder and works up a rhythm again, pulling his fingers almost all the way before pressing in deep. Lance takes it with breathy sighs and gasps, allowing Keith to set the pace without complaint.

When Keith curls his fingers Lance’s whole body tenses and his fingers scrabble to find purchase on the covers as Keith repeats the motion on each thrust. “See what you get when you’re good, baby?”

Lance’s loud moan is all the answer he gets in response.

Keith works him open until the slide of two fingers is almost easy and Lance’s breathless moans tinge with desperation.

Lance opens up to three fingers beautifully and Keith tells him so.

Lance’s cock is leaking a puddle onto his belly and when Keith leans forward to lap at it, Lance’s eyes go wide and he props himself up on his elbows to watch. Keith cleans him with his tongue and swipes his tongue over the slick head of Lance’s cock for good measure. Lance’s brows draw together, and he whines, “How are you even real?” before flopping back down with a groan.

Keith keeps constant pressure on Lance’s prostate as he twists three fingers inside of him. Keith watches, mesmerized, as his abs tense and release and his back arches, lithe and lean and so, so lovely.

Keith reaches up to twist a nipple between his fingers and Lance hiccups on a moan, going impossibly tight around Keith’s fingers. He presses two fingers into Lance’s mouth who sucks enthusiastically, before dragging his slick fingers over each of Lance’s nipples, pinching and rolling them in turns. Lance allows it with gasping breaths, long enough for them to tighten into hardened peaks, before trying to twist away from Keith’s hand with a whine. “Keith, shit, you can’t keep… or I’ll—” he’s cut off by a moan as Keith tweaks each nipple once more.

“You’re so sensitive…” Keith murmurs into his knee. “One of these days we’re going to find out if you can come just from having your nipples played with.”

Lance swears.

“That’s for another time, though. Tonight, I’m gonna make you mine.”

A few more thrusting twists of his fingers and Keith is easing them out and wiping them off on the bedspread. “Are you ready?”

Lance sits up and reaches for Keith, hands warm and strong as they cup his jaw and tilt his head for a sweet, almost surprisingly chaste kiss. “I’m ready.” Lance breath tingles on Keith’s lips.

Keith presses a short kiss to both of Lance’s cheeks, softly scratching his nails back through Lance’s hair.

“Are you sure you want this? We don’t have to do anything you don’t—”

“Keith.” Lance’s eyes are soft as he sweeps his thumbs across Keith’s cheekbones and holds his gaze. “I’m sure. I’m really, really sure. As long as this is what you want, too.”

Lance’s eyes are wide and honest and so blue and Keith has to close his eyes to keep from getting lost in them. “I do, Lance. So much.” He feels exposed and vulnerable, and he’s afraid that Lance can see too much written on his face, but Lance doesn’t comment on it, just pulls him into another kiss.

Lance eases them back so that Keith is braced on his elbows above him, trading easy kisses as their bodies slot together. “How do you want me?” Lance asks, sweeping his hands up Keith’s sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Keith wants him just like this, face to face so that he can watch Lance come apart underneath him, but Lance’s comfort is more important. “Whatever will be easiest for you, baby. If it’ll be easier on your knees the first time, we can—”

“Actually,” Lance murmurs. “Is…is like this alright? I’d like to be able to see you. Is that—is that okay?”

Keith’s heart swells. “Of course, baby. That’s perfect.”

Lance’s smile looking up at him is radiant. “Okay.”

This time, when Lance curls his fingers into Keith’s hair and slides their lips together, the way Lance’s tongue dances around Keith’s is fucking sinful. The burning desire Keith has been tamping down flares to life with a vengeance. Keith moans and rocks his hips down, delicious friction has them swallowing each other’s noises as their erections slide together.

Keith mouths at Lance’s jaw, pressing sloppy kisses into the hollow just under his ear. “Gonna make it so good for you,” he growls against Lance’s skin. “Gonna take such good care of you, baby, you’re gonna look so good split open on my cock.”

Lance’s sharp intake of breath is the only warning Keith gets before his head is wrenched back with Lance’s hand in his hair, head forcibly turned so that Lance’s lips are level with his ear. His voice is low and ragged when he hisses into Keith’s ear, “Then fucking do it,” before Lance’s nails drag five points of fire down his back.

Keith snarls and slams Lance’s wrists to the bed above his head. He squeezes them tightly before releasing. “Keep them there.” 

Obediently, Lance does as he’s told.

“Good boy.” Keith drags a palm down Lance’s chest before moving off him to grab the lube and finally, finally slick his cock.

Lance watches with dark eyes as Keith gets a hand on himself and spreads the lube, stroking a few more times than strictly necessary under the heavy weight of Lance’s attention. Lance’s legs spread as he knees between them. Keith presses Lance’s knees further, partly just to see if he can and Lance just fucking bends like it’s the easiest thing in the world to have his knees up at chest level with no apparent strain. “Hold them there,” Keith commands, and Lance’s hands come down to grip under his knees and hold himself open.

Keith pulls back to take in the sight before him, all that tan skin and wiry muscle spread out just for him in an obscene display. “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans before lining up.

He locks eyes with Lance as he begins to press in, the tight ring of muscle giving way to allow the head of his cock to slide in. He’s impossibly tight, the urge to keep going and slam home overwhelming but Keith pauses, giving Lance time to adjust.

“Eyes on me,” Keith commands when Lance’s eyes flutter closed. This close, when Lance’s eyes reopen he can see his pupils blown wide, his breathing quick and shallow.

“Deep breaths, baby,” he says, strained, struggling to follow his own advice. Lance sucks in a deep breath and the muscles gripping Keith so tightly clench and relax, clench and relax. Keith can feel his thighs trembling with the effort to keep still. “How does it feel?”

“Big,” Lance says thickly. “S’good. M’good. Want you to move.”

“Yeah?” Keith shifts the barest amount, stroking a hand up and down Lance thigh. “Like this?”

He stills again when Lance shakes his head no with a heavy breath. “Do you need me to— god Lance!” Lance clenches down around him tight and it has to be deliberate with the way he’s looking at him.

“I need you to move. Go slow but do it. If it hurts I’ll tell you.”

Keith nods, trying to focus. “Okay.” He braces a hand on Lance’s chest and one under his thigh. “Okay.”

His hips start a slow push and pull, sliding just a little deeper on each push in and sliding back until only the head is inside. Lance is making these sweet little noises and when Keith opens his mouth, he can’t seem to shut up.

“So good, Lance, you have no idea, God, you’re so fucking tight. So beautiful, taking me so well fuck you’re so perfect.” Keith bottoms out with a groan. “Need you to talk to me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

Lance voice is wrecked when he gasps Keith’s name. “Need you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me like you promised you would. Fucking claim me, Keith.”

A haze of lust clouds over Keith’s brain and a possessive growl rises from his throat. He pulls out so that the head of his cock catches on Lance’s rim and snaps his hips forward. Lance cries out and gasps “Again,” so Keith does, again and again as Lance pants and moans beneath him.

Lance’s legs begin to tremble where he’s still holding them up and Keith slows. He replaces Lance’s hands with his own, and guides Lance’s legs to hook over his shoulders, practically bending him in half. On his next thrust in Lance clenches down hard, and a litany of curses spill from his lips. “There, fuck, right there, Keith -shit- just like that ah fuck!” With his hands no longer occupied, Lance’s hands are all over Keith, in his hair, scraping his shoulders and clawing at his back as Keith builds up to a punishing pace.

Keith pins Lance’s wrists back to the bed on either side of his head, and Lance fucking keens as Keith nails his prostate on each unforgiving thrust. Keith drags his tongue up the side of Lance’s neck, over the bruises he left earlier, to nip at the shell of Lance’s ear.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he growls into Lance ear, a thrill of power rising in him as Lance shudders. “Is this what you wanted, to be split open on my cock while I take what I want from you?”

“Yes,” Lance gasps to the ceiling. “Keith it’s so good, so full, want you to—want you—”

“To what, baby? Tell me.”

Lance’s eyes are hazy and unfocused as he gazes at Keith, and Keith can’t help the wash of self-satisfaction as Lance seems to lose his grasp on coherency with each thrust.

Keith is admittedly not that far behind him.

“I—I—” Lance gasps. “Harder.”

Keith snarls and releases Lance’s wrists, sliding one arm under his back and gripping his shoulder with the other, hauling him onto his cock as drives forward. Through the fog in his brain Keith doesn’t know how long he can last like this, the brutal force of his thrusts and his mate’s pleasure filling his ears rocketing him closer towards his end. But not until Lance is taken care of first.

“Like that, baby?” he pants into Lance’s ear. “Hard enough for you?”

Keith’s lips pull back from his teeth in a feral grin when Lance’s only reply is a guttural moan and his hands scrabbling for purchase on Keith’s back. The nails in his skin only spur Keith harder, faster.

Their lips collide in a mess of teeth and tongues, moaning and panting into each other’s mouths.

“T-touch me,” Lance gasps, “Keith I’m so close, please—”

Keeping an arm curled under Lance’s back, Keith curls his other hand around Lance’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Shit,  yes, like that like that, Keith I can’t—I’m gonna—bite me, Keith, mark me make me yours—”

Keith’s hips don’t falter but his grip around Lance’s cock loosens, just this side of not enough pressure. “Keith,” Lance’s voice cracks on a whine.

“I know you haven’t forgotten, baby.” Keith drags his tongue, slick and dirty, across Lance’s swollen lower lip. “Beg me for it.” He strokes loose and teasing, just enough to keep Lance hovering at the edge without pushing him over.

It’s easy this time. “Keith, Keith please, please bite me, show everyone I belong to you pleaseplease please ahhh fuck!”

A growl rumbling in his chest, Keith sinks his teeth into the meat of Lance’s shoulder where it meets the unmarked side of his neck, tightening his hand and that’s all it takes for Lance to lose it, back arching and thighs trembling on Keith’s shoulders, striping his belly white with a sob.

Everything Lance floods Keith’s senses, his scent, the taste of his skin locked between Keith’s teeth, his cries filling Keith’s ears, the way Lance pulses so tight and hot around him with the strength of his orgasm, and when Lance begs “Come inside me, fill me up, make me yours Keith please,”   Keith is helpless to do anything but obey, his vision going white and orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave, a wild, feral sound erupting in his throat as his jaw clenches down and drowning in Lance, Lance, Lance.

When Keith comes back to himself, he’s released Lance’s shoulder and Lance’s legs lay sprawled on the bed and they’re both gasping for breath, Lance still twitching around him with aftershocks that make Keith’s oversensitive cock twitch and pulse inside him.

An overwhelming sense of affection floods Keith and he peppers kisses all over Lance’s face, making Lance laugh and swat at him. He nuzzles into Lance’s hair, breathing him in, and swears he can smell the satisfaction on his skin. “That was amazing,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to Lance’s temple, and one more to the tip of his nose, making Lance’s eyes crinkle.

“Yeah? It was good for you?”

Keith’s heart clenches at the earnest hope in Lance eyes. “Lance, it was…” Earthshattering. Mind-numbing. Lifechanging. “It was really, really fucking good, okay? How was it for you, how do you feel?”

Lance seems to consider, shifting slightly with Keith still inside him. “It was really intense. Like there at the end, after you bit me when I came I swear I felt it down to my fingertips and I felt all tingly after. So yeah. It was really good.” Lance licks his lips and looks away. “I- I couldn’t have asked for a better first time with. With that. Or a better person to have it with.”

Lance’s cheeks pinken all over again, and after everything they just did Keith finds it adorable that Lance still has it in him to blush as hard as he is. Keith tangles his hand with one of Lance’s and kisses his knuckles.

“I’m really glad it was good for you. And, um. Thank you. For trusting me enough to be the one to share that with you.” It feels cheesy to say that he feels honored that Lance gave that part of himself to Keith, so he doesn’t. He feels it keenly though, a confusing tangle of pride and humility that Lance chose him. Keith can feel on his face that Lance isn’t the only one who is still capable of blushing. He clears his throat. “Let- let me get you cleaned up.”

They both hiss as Keith pulls out.

Lance’s hole clenches around nothing, and Keith groans as a trickle of come spills out of him and onto the bedspread. Without thinking, he leans down and drags his tongue over where Lance is stretched and puffy, gently using the flat of his tongue to lick him clean. “Keith oh my god,” Lance gasps, body jolting and cock twitching weakly.

Keith nibbles a soft pink mark into the meat of Lance’s ass. “Next time I’m not gonna let you come until I do, and then I’m gonna lick it out of you until you come on just my tongue.”

Lance laughs breathlessly. “You are too much. And you might wanna keep your nasty thoughts to yourself unless you want that ‘next time’ to start way sooner than anticipated.”

Keith chuckles and leans up to place a kiss on Lance’s nose. “That’s not much of an incentive to keep my thoughts to myself.” He rolls off the bed, turning to wink at Lance as he goes to wet a cloth in the small washroom. “And I have a lot of them.”

“Pretty sure Allura would kill us if she found out we stayed up literally all night having sex,” Lance says, relaxing more fully into the bed as Keith returns to run the warm cloth between his legs and over the come drying on his stomach.

“Worth it.” Keith runs the cloth over himself before tossing it down the laundry chute.

Lance snorts but doesn’t disagree.

An easy quiet falls over them as Keith slides his boxers back on and helps Lance into a fresh pair. He grabs a water pouch from the inset cubby above the bed and holds the straw to Lance’s lips. When Lance turns his head away after gulping down his fill, Keith finishes it off and sets it to the side.

Gently, Keith lifts Lance up enough to tug the soiled bedspread out from under him where it quickly follows the washcloth for cleaning. He gets the sheets pulled up to Lance chest, and is startled when Lance’s fingers close around his wrist when he presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Lance’s brows are drawn, and he worries his lower lip with his teeth.

Keith is gripped with a sudden uncertainty. He had assumed that Lance would want him to stay, but then again Lance had a pretty involved nighttime beauty regimen and he may want space. The thought of leaving hurt, like he had… failed somehow, but if Lance preferred to sleep alone, well, Keith would just have to respect that and deal with the ache of it on his own.

Keith swallows. Honesty hadn’t led him astray so far. “I would like to, but I understand if you’d like some time alone. I don’t want you to feel like you have to let me stay with you if that’s not what you want, but if you would like me to stay—”

“I do,” Lance blurts. “Want you to stay, that is. We kinda just had mind-blowing sex and I don’t really want to sleep alone. Besides, it’s not like you can go back and sleep in your room anyway.” Lance is cut off by a wide yawn. “Now come to bed.”

Relief and affection spread through Keith warm like honey, and he slides under the sheets behind Lance, tucking an arm over his waist and drawing him close. Their legs tangle together and it’s cozy and intimate, Lance’s skin so impossibly soft where his back is flush with Keith’s chest.

Keith noses into the back of Lance’s neck, ruffling the short hairs there with his breath. Lance mostly smells like sweat and warm skin, with an undercurrent of a scent that’s not quite a scent but somehow smells like mine. He breathes him in and feels his eyelids start to grow heavy, a deep contentment settling into his bones.

“…hey Keith?”

Lance’s uncertain voice brings Keith back from the edge of sleep. He squeezes him closer and places a groggy kiss to his shoulder. “What is it baby?”

“Are we, uh, boyfriends now?”

“I dunno,” Keith says, palm gliding up and down Lance’s bare side. “Are we?”

“Keith?”

“Mhmm?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Keith huffs a laugh into Lance’s skin, placing one kiss in his hair and another to the soft, soft skin behind his ear. “Yeah,” Keith murmurs, heart swelling. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Cool.” Lance is overtaken by another yawn. “Glad that’s settled. Night babe.”

Keith hums and strokes his thumb over Lance’s hip. “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me anything other than Keith or dude.”

“Nuh-uh,” Lance protests, wriggling so that he’s using one of Keith’s arms as pillow. “I definitely called you a kinky motherfucker. And a jerk, so.”

Keith chuckles and pokes a finger into Lance’s bellybutton, who squawks and smacks his hand away. “My favorite terms of endearment, how did you know?”

Lance snorts. “I could just tell. Now go to sleep, darling.”

“Fine. Good night, cupcake.”

Lance kicks at his ankle with an ‘ugh’ but doesn’t retaliate, and soon his breathing evens out and his body relaxes into Keith’s. With one more soft kiss to Lance’s shoulder and a whispered, “Sweet dreams, baby,” Keith quickly follows him down.

***

Keith slowly blinks awake as the castle lights gradually rise to signify the start of a new cycle. He’s momentarily disoriented by warmth of another body half draped over him and a weight on his chest before oh yeah, I have a boyfriend. And it’s Lance. Lance is my boyfriend, who is currently using my chest as a pillow and drooling.

It’s gross, it really is, but when Keith looks down at him, his features are soft with sleep and he makes these little snuffling sounds and his hand curls around Keith’s hip and a giddy sort of feeling bubbles  up in him that tugs a helpless smile to his lips. Softly, he runs a hand through Lance’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

“Lance,” he whispers. “Lance, it’s time to wake up.” Lance shifts and smacks his lips but doesn’t stir.

“Sweetheart,” he tries again, gently shaking Lance’s shoulder. “You’re adorable, but you’re drooling on me and it’s gross.”

“No.” Lance grumbles and his brow furrows, holding Keith tighter. “You’ll be gone.”

What? “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lance just shakes his head and keeps his eyes shut tight. “S’too good a dream. M’not done.”

Holy shit, could this kid get any more adorable?

Keith’s heart flips in his chest and he gently rocks Lance’s shoulder again. “You’re not dreaming. I’m actually here, and you’re actually drooling on me, and it’s actually gross.”

Lance finally shifts into wakefulness, blinking bleary eyes up at Keith. “Hey,” he says, voice scratchy and thick with sleep.

Jesus, Keith is so gone on him.

“Hey.”

Lance blinks at him. “You um. Are we boyfriends?”

Keith can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “That was the general consensus last night, yes.”

“Wow,” Lance breathes, eyes fluttering shut again.

“No, no, no,” Keith laughs, starting to sit up. “We’re not going back to sleep.”

Grumbling at being dislodged, Lance sits up and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his torso into a long, lean curve.

Interest flutters in the pit of Keith’s stomach, but they’ll be expected for breakfast soon and the thought of Allura’s disapproving frown keeps him in line.

Lance glances at him then down his chest and laughs. “Whoops. I spent so much time drooling over you, never thought I’d actually drool on you. My b.”

Keith uses Lance’s sheets to wipe his chest off with a grimace. “Next time you get to be the pillow.”

Unfazed, Lance presses a quick kiss to his cheek then one to his lips. And another one. And before he knows it he’s got a tongue in his mouth, and a gorgeous bed-headed boy in his lap rolling his hips down, already hot and hard in his boxers and Keith not far behind.

“We ah, we can’t,” Keith mumbles against his boyfriend’s (he has a boyfriend!) lips. “We’ll be late for breakfast and Allura will hnnngh fuck just like that…” Keith’s rational brain shuts down as Lance drags both of their boxers down just enough to free their erections, curling his hand around them both as his hips rock into his grip.

“We’ll be quick,” Lance promises. “Just want you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.” Keith groans at the friction and his hips snap up into Lance’s grip. Their lips collide again as Keith gets a hand around them as well, swallowing Lance’s little noises as his hips rock harder.

It’s a little clumsy, both still muzzy with sleep, and their thrusts aren’t quite coordinated, but Lance’s parted lips are shiny and kiss-bitten red, and his eyes keep fluttering closed then reopening like he keeps losing himself then remembering that he wants to watch Keith coming apart beneath him, and it’s perfect.

“Feels so good Lance, not ahh not gonna last long.” Keith hips stutter up to meet each of Lance’s thrusts.

“Good,” Lance laughs breathlessly. “Me neither. You’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Keith cups Lance’s face in his hand, eyes locked on to each other and it’s so close and intimate that it aches. “I am, Lance, I’m yours, baby oh, wanted you like this for so long- hahh—" Keith is drowning in Lance’s eyes, swept away in the pleasure of his body and he needs to know, needs to hear it; “Say you’re mine too, baby please, tell me tell me—”

Keith feels wild with it, desperate, feels a whine climbing in his throat but Lance is there with a hand cradling his face and thumbing his cheek and Keith feels a surge of fierce pride at how wrecked his mate’s voice sounds gasping promises and praise. “I’m yours, I’m yours Keith, ohh fuck— only yours.”

“Damn right you are,” Keith growls.

“Faster,” Lance breathes. “Like that like that, Keith ah don’t stop!”

Keith rolls one of Lance’s nipples between his fingers and Lance cries out as his cock pulses a fat bead of precome. “God, you’re so responsive,” Keith groans, pinching and twisting until Lance is shuddering and fucking their fists in earnest. “So good for me, baby, take what you need, that’s it. Such a good boy, so fucking pretty.”

“Keith, Keith tighter I’m so—I’m so close please,” Lance begs, moaning brokenly as he drives into their fists.

Keith grips their cocks harder, precome leaking between their fingers as they slide together. Keith can see the moment Lance starts to break, eyes clenching shut and mouth dropping open, a flush high in his cheeks.

“Just like that baby, fuck,” Keith growls. “Wanna see you come all over my cock.”

Lance careens over the edge with a ragged cry, covering Keith’s cock with come and splattering across his stomach.

“Oh fuck,” Keith gasps, “Jack me off with your come god nnnggh like that shit shit shit!”

Lance’s hand flies over Keith cock, his own come slicking the way and it’s so fucking good and when Lance buries his other hand in his hair and pulls, wrenching his head back and Lance hisses “Come,” right into his ear, Keith’s orgasm crashes through him, cock exploding all over Lance’s hand and his own stomach, crying out wildly with Lance’s name on his lips.

It takes him a moment to come back down and catch his breath, feeling weak and shaky. “Fuck,” he says when he can speak again.

Lance laughs, bonking his head gently against Keith’s before rolling off him. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Lance gives Keith a once over. “This is a really good look on you.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “What, sweaty and sticky and covered in both of our come?”

“Precisely.”

It’s then that Keith really looks at Lance, actually notices in the morning light what wasn’t obvious in the dark. He swallows. “That’s a, uh, really good look on you too…”

Lance runs his hands over his torso, confused. “What is? There’s nothing on me.”

“You um. May want to look in a mirror.”

Lance eyes him suspiciously and pulls his boxers back up to walk to the bathroom.

Keith uses the sheets to wipe himself off again and pull up his own boxers while he waits for the inevitable.

“Oh my God…” Keith hears it softly at first.

“Oh. My God.” Louder.

“KEITH!” Lance reappears, accusatory finger at the ready. “What did you do to me?”

Keith schools his features into what he hopes looks like contrition, not the smug satisfaction he feels at the rainbow of bruises that cover Lance’s neck and shoulders. On one side they line all the way from his clavicle up to just under his ear, where no amount of space concealer or creative fashion choices are going to hide it all. On the other side though… the bruised purple ring on Lance’s shoulder, just the shape of Keith’s teeth is like flashing neon sign that says OFF LIMITS. He doesn’t really understand it, but that bruise calls out to a deeper part of him, a fiercely protective part that says mine.

Keith was telling the truth. It is a good look on him.

“I look like I was mauled by a wild animal!”

Keith ducks his head, has it in him to at least feel a little bit guilty. “Does it hurt?”

Lance touches the bruises gingerly. “They’re a little tender, but not really painful. But the point is look what you did to me!”

“Maybe Allura has a scarf?” Keith offers weakly, earning him a narrow-eyed glare. “Or you could just always wear your paladin armor.”

“Right,” Lance scoffs. “Because that won’t be suspicious. Maybe I’ll tell everyone the mice went rabid and attacked me… No, Allura can talk to them, that won’t work,” Lance begins muttering to himself. “Maybe I can say a pack of like, space badgers got in through an airlock and attacked me before I bravely fought them off, saving everyone in the castle. You’re all welcome.”

Keith snorts. “Are space badgers even a thing?”

“Probably! In the infinite cosmic abyss, it would be more unlikely for there not to be space badgers.”

“Whatever you say, babe. The potential existence of space badgers aside…” Keith hesitates. “We could just… tell everyone we’re together. We’re adults; we’re allowed to have sex.”

Lance pulls up short. “You want to tell everyone?”

Keith shrugs, unconcerned. “I won’t be upset if you’d like to keep it just between us for now. But I don’t mind everyone knowing. Might be easier than trying to cover all that up.”

“Huh,” Lance says. “Let me think about it. In the meantime, we both needs showers. Or everyone will be able to smell you and no amount of space badgers can cover that up.”

“Fair enough,” Keith says easily, sliding his boxers off. He stands and stretches, pushing his linked fingers towards the ceiling and pushing his back into a pretty arch. With a smirk, he walks past where Lance stands, eyes glued to him. He stands in the bathroom doorway and turns his upper body halfway to look at Lance. “Come on. It’ll be faster if we just shower together.” It takes Lance’s eyes a moment to make it to Keith’s face.

“Um.” Lance shakes himself. “Right. Yes. Let’s do that.”

They shower mostly uneventfully, the stall not really designed to accommodate two. A couple of elbows and knees get bumped, and if some asses get grabbed in the process, well, who’s keeping track? (Keith is. And it’s probably a good thing they literally just got off, because Lance naked and wet and covered in bruises that Keith put on him is tempting. Keith appeases himself by licking up the trail of water from the hollow of Lance’s throat to the shell of his ear and getting a solid handful of ass.)

Keith borrows a pair of Lance’s boxers (in red), which are only a little too tight. He gets his sweatpants on and looks for his shirt before he realizes.

“Oh my God…”

Lance has some sort of cream rubbed halfway into his face when he glances around the corner. “What is it?”

Keith shakes his head and scrubs a hand down his face. “The blanket. And our shirts.”

Lance looks confused for a moment before realization dawns on his face. “We left them on the bridge. Oh my God,” Lance laughs. “We are giant dumbasses.”

So Keith borrows a shirt from Lance too, which is also just a little too tight which doesn’t seem to bother Lance at all. (“You’ve been wearing your clothes too big. You could’ve been blessing the universe with this sculpted bod the whole time. Selfish, is what you are.”)

When they’re ready to head down, Keith opens the door and almost trips over the folded blanket and their shirts that have been placed right outside the door with a note pinned in the top.

Congratulations!

It’s so great you both got your heads out of your asses and just banged it out already. Maybe next time don’t do it in a large, very PUBLIC, and ECHO-Y room and then LEAVE HALF OF YOUR CLOTHES THERE. And DEFINITELY next time don’t bring it back RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO MY ROOM in the MIDDLE OF THE DAMN NIGHT. You’re lucky the vibration cancelling barrier prototype I’ve been working on actually works. So happy for you guys though. You’ll make beautiful children.

-P

“Oh my God…” Lance says faintly, and Keith has to agree.

***

“Good of you to join us,” Pidge says drily when they walk into the kitchen. “Almost just in time to completely miss breakfast.”

The others look up then, and chaos erupts.

Hunk’s fist slams into the table, rattling the bowls of food goo. “Coran owes me twenty GAC!”

Coran strokes his mustache and gives them a once over. “Ah yes, I suppose so. Although it looks like Number Five owes me ten, and Princess you owe me…” he looks them over speculatively again. “My goodness, at least thirty.”

“Now hold on just a minute!” Lance protests, taking Keith’s hand.

Allura sniffs. “Yes, let’s hold on a moment and think about this.”

“Thank you! Now—”

“I hardly think this warrants thirty.” She peers closely at Lance. “I think twenty is fair.” After studying them closely, she huffs. “Maybe twenty-five.”

“Did everyone know about this?!”

Pidge chuckles. “The only ones who didn’t know about you two was you two.”

“I can’t believe you bet on us!” Lance exclaims, indignant. “Not you though, right Shiro? Right?”

Shiro clears his throat and stands. “Alright everyone, calm down. I think we’re all failing to see what’s actually important here.”

Lance nods along with him, relieved. “Exactly.”

“And that’s that you all owe me fifty GAC each.”

“What?!”

Keith snorts and winds his arm around Lance’s waist, pressing a kiss just under his jaw. “You should’ve let the space badgers get ‘em after all.”