Archive of Our Own ^beta

Keith’s hair was a mess. Bits of leaves clung to the dark locks, and sweat plastered thin strands across his forehead. A deep, stitched up cut decorated his strong cheekbone, and his tired eyes were ringed with bruised, deep purple.

Still, he was resplendent. 

The most handsome man Lance had ever laid eyes on, smiling wanly at him from the doorway, his red and white paladin armour scuffed and dirty, but still somehow shining. 

Lance smiled back, his body sunken into the soft sheets and pillows that covered their bed, watching as Keith moved away from the doorway, his shape partially obscured by the gauzy hangings of their four-poster. 

Lance’s legs were bare, exposed from shorts that had ridden too high up his legs. He’d fallen victim to the slight chill of the draughty castle, but it was a small price to pay for the lingering gaze of his fiancé’s eyes, one glove-covered hand wrapped fully around his ankle, thumb rubbing back and forth over the jut of the bone. 

“Hey, pretty,” Keith murmured, and Lance’s heart ached a bit at the exhaustion in his voice. He only felt a little guilty at the smile that stole across his face at the same time, though; to pull a pet name from Keith? It still sent tingles over his spine, made him want to blush and bury his face in the pillow as his usually-reserved partner dragged his hand up the length of his leg, settling heavy on his upper thigh while he bent to press his chapped lips against Lance’s. Lance sighed softly, his hand coming up to thread through Keith’s long, tangled hair. He winced slightly as his fingers pulled at a knot, and Keith hissed against Lance’s mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance whispered, retrieving his fingers to wrap his full arm around Keith’s shoulders, lifting his sleep-heavy body from the bed to hug Keith tight. “Hey, hotshot. Rough mission?”

Keith’s heaving breath was hot against Lance’s temple. “The roughest. I swear, I got slammed into a tree so hard my teeth nearly came out.”

Lanced wrinkled his nose, pulling back to nuzzle Keith’s cheek, pressing a sweet kiss next to the new cut. “Please don’t get dentures. I haven’t made my peace with old age just yet.”

Keith laughed slightly. 

“You’re saying you won’t love me when I’m old and grey? That’s good to know before we say our vows.”

Lance pulled back, squinting his eyes as he absorbed Keith’s features, scanning over the slight crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes, the smile lines already etched into his handsome face. He aged the photo in his mind. Greyed his hair, softened his cheeks.

Lance blushed, dropping his face to Keith’s shoulder, relishing in the refreshment of cold armour against his hot cheeks. He really didn’t want to admit just how much the image of Keith, older and still smiling at him with all the love in the universe, affected him. 

“Against all odds,” Lance grumbled, “I think I’ll still love you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Lance could hear the grin in Keith’s voice, and he warmed a bit at the life bleeding back into his partner, “you think you’ll still love me.”

Keith’s hand fisted in Lance’s hair, pulling him up gently, and Lance’s heart skipped a beat. Keith cupped his chin, meeting his eyes. “I’ll still love you ,” he promised, “In case you were worried.”

Lance huffed, shoving him lightly to swing his feet off the bed, plant them on the ground so Keith was left stood between his knees. His hands settled on Keith’s hips, his head tilted up to meet his gleaming golden eyes. “Of course you will! I’ve aged like a good fucking cheese. Just. Not as smelly as one.”

Keith rolled his eyes, slipping his arms under Lance’s to hoist him onto his feet. Lance yelped, stumbling slightly, but Keith’s strong arms held him steady, one reassuring hand on his waist and one on his shoulder.

“Speaking of smelly ,” he pressed a chaste kiss against Lance’s lips, “I need a shower. Come with?”

Truth be told, Lance had showered only a few hours ago. He’d had a day off for the first time in weeks and goddamnit he’d wanted to take some care of himself. He’s exfoliated, shaved and moisturised and had made sure his hair dried in just the way Keith liked — loose, heat damaged curls falling slightly frizzy over his eyebrows, the back fluffy and soft. It would be such a nuisance to wash away all that hard work.

But.

Keith’s eyes watched him through the overlong fall of his bangs, golden and trusting, his head still tilted upwards as if asking for a kiss. This Keith, his fiancé, the love of his goddamn life, was such a far cry away from the reclusive boy he’d met 8 years ago in a desert. He’d loved that boy too — bitterly, effusively, entirely — but there was no way he’d be here, stroking Lance’s waist, asking Lance to bear witness to his vulnerabilities. 

Lance gave Keith his kiss, knocking their foreheads together. 

“C’mon,” He tugged Keith to their private bathroom, pushing him up against the counter of the sink, and dropping to his knees in front of him.

Keith relaxed as the warmth of the bathroom encased him, the heater Lance had left running warming his chilled hands.

Lance made quick work of Keith’s boots, undoing the magnetic clasp that kept the foot sealed to the calf piece, loosening it and tugging it off. He pressed quick kisses to his knees as he unlocked the knee guards and Keith chuckled, stroking his hair. Lance continued like that; he pulled off ever piece quickly but carefully, mindful of anywhere dried blood had stuck the armour to the flight suit. He kissed over Keith’s covered thighs, his hips, the fat and muscle of his stomach. He brushed his mouth over Keith’s covered cock and Keith huffed, shifting and resettling as Lance left a hot, open mouthed kiss where his thigh met his hip — a promise of more to come for his impatient lover.

Well. That’s not entirely correct. Keith could be very patient when it came to Lance.

Lance had to stand to undo the chest plate, and Keith obediently raised his arm for Lance to access the side lock, allowing the pieces to come undone. Keith moved to pick everything up off the floor, but Lance beat him to it, tutting at Keith while he scooped the leg pieces into his arms and deposited them into the wall chute, where they’d be sent to the sanitation room and decontaminated. 

Returning to Keith’s side, Lance reached for the neck switch, running his fingers over it to deactivate the compression effect, letting the suit expand and deflate, hanging baggy on Keith’s strong body. Lance tugged at the back zip, pulling it off of Keith and helping him out of it, leaving him in his soft, tight black undershirt and briefs. Lance helped him out of those too, pulling the long sleeve off of Keith’s body, eyeing the exposed skin and entirely displeased at the colourful bruising beginning to bloom on Keith’s torso. 

“Oh, Keith,” he murmured, stroking across his stomach. Keith stole his fingers bringing them to his mouth, glancing up at him. 

“It’s ok,” he soothed, “It’s just a bit sore. Nothing some bruise cream won’t help in an instant.”

Lance sighed, dropped his head to rest against Keith’s. He knew just as well the constant strain their bodies were put under, let alone the mental one. He’d been in this exact position; Keith’s tender hands undressing him and stroking over his damaged, torn up skin. Still, it never got easier seeing his family beaten and bruised and bloody, heavy with the weight of all they’ve gone through. Pidge’s lips split and tears in her eyes, Hunk’s fingers bruised under the weight of his blaster, Shiro’s body wracked with phantom pain, Allura scratching at her aching temples, Coran’s head in his hands when he thinks no one is watching.

Keith’s lovely, darling face furrowed as he applied a waterproof bandage over the new cut, his back a kaleidoscope of yellow and purple and a bit of blue peaking out. 

Lance took Keith by the hips, pressing a kiss to the back of his head and Keith smiled in the mirror.

He turned in Lance’s arms, squeezing him tight before stepping away from him, moving towards the shower.

“Wash.” 

Lance snorted, but slipped his shorts down his legs, more than smug at the way Keith’s eyes darkened, tracing the long line of his legs, his exposed stomach as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

Lance smirked, bending over to pick them up, relishing in Keith’s intake of breath.

“Lance,” he warned. 

He laughed, straightening up and tossing his clothes over the counter. He made his way over to Keith, sliding past him into the shower, smiling as Keith’s hand squeezed his ass, palming him roughly.

“Let’s make this quick,” Keith muttered, pulling Lance into his arms to mouth at his collarbone.

Lance scoffed, “No, you ding dong — you think I’m letting you fuck me covered in dirt and grime?”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve let me before.”

And what a memory it was; Keith’s strong body caging him in, face sweaty and face streaked with mud on the floor of the Red Lion, hands of Lance’s hips forcing him to bounce on Keith’s cock. He’d been in boxers when Red had landed, had booked it straight to Keith in hopes of pulling Keith to sleep with him. Instead, a dirty Keith had pinned him against the wall, hopped up on adrenaline, and had taken him then and there on his knees, his body prey to Keith’s desire.

Lance scoffed, face red as he whacked Keith’s shoulder. 

“Whatever, that was horny Lance.”

“You’re not horny, now?” Keith’s hand drifted to brush over Lance’s fattening cock and Lance huffed, turning away from him to grab the bottle of shampoo.

“Shut up!”

Keith laughed, eyes bright when Lance turned to face him. He’d been soaked by the spray of the water, though he’d moved away from it now, his ink black hair pressed straight and flat against his chest, his chiselled biceps dripping water along the line of his muscles and Lance swallowed. He squirted a bit of shampoo onto his hands, lathering it into Keith’s hair, careful to stroke it through in a way that removed any loose leaves still stuck.

Keith went quiet, eyes closing as Lance dug his fingers into his scalp, a small satisfied sigh leaving his lips as Lance pressed up against him, massaging his fingers into Keith’s temples, the underside of his skull, the area behind his ears. Keith’s hands landed on Lance’s hip, one on the small of his back splayed wide. Lance shivered under the possessive touch.

He pulled Keith gently back under the spray, tipping his head back so that the water beat against his hairline. No words were needed — it was a familiar dance for them; Keith relaxing under Lance’s strong hands. Beautiful.

Lance cupped his hand over Keith’s forehead, shielding his eyes from the soapy water, and Keith squeezed his hip in appreciation. Lance watched the white suds slip away from that pitch black hair, mesmerised. Once he was clean, Lance pulled him back from the spray, cradling him against his chest and Keith chuckled, resting his cheek in the crook of Lance’s neck. Every inch of Lance itched with the need to be near Keith, to feel his hot hands covering his hips, chest, thighs; to feel them slip over his bare skin and spread his legs, squish his thighs between his thick fingers, hold him completely immobile, thighs clasped over his ears while that wet, warm mouth traced it’s way up his inner thighs—

Lance shook his head, desperately trying to clear his thoughts. Keith was still soaking wet, watching him with intense eyes that said he knew exactly what kind of impure thoughts had filled his head. 

His hands flexed on Keith’s back.

Keith placed a open mouthed kiss over his Adam’s Apple, fangs scratching slightly at the thin skin and Lance shuddered. Keith stepped away from him, reaching behind him for the conditioner. He maneuvered Lance’s hands in front of himself, quietly folding his fingers to form a cup. He squeezed the conditioner into Lance’s hands while Lance watched, dazed. His throat ached for Keith to latch his mouth to the underside of his jaw, the underneath of his ear, to suck and bite at the skin until there was no mistaking Keith’s unending devotion, Lance’s absolute adoration.

Keith cupped his face, bringing Lance’s attention back to him, bare and waiting. Keith caught his eyes, before deliberately turning around, giving Lance access to the length of his beautiful, healthy hair, trailing down to the bottom of his shoulder blades. Lance loved that hair so fucking much. Evidence of Keith’s maturation, his growth, his learning to love himself and care for his body. Lance loved relaxing on their bed, watching Keith massage oil into his soaking hair, brushing it through with a comb, braiding it back. More than that, he loved doing it himself. Feeling the difference in those silk-soft strands from the first time he’d done this for Keith — a battle gone wrong had left him concussed, bleeding from the head. Lance had washed the blood out quietly while he rested in a medbay bed, his concussion making it risky to toss him in the pods. He’d felt the dry, brittle ends, the uneven lengths, and wanted nothing more than to sit Keith down and take his time cutting off split ends, saturating his hair in oil. He’d been so defensive, on tilted ground when Lance asked him about it, quiet and gentle, but he’d come back the next time he tried to give himself a haircut.  He’d had his eyes on the floor as he softly asked Lance for his help and Lance’s heart had broken for his reclusive friend. 

Lance reached out, spreading the conditioner through the ends, up towards the base of his scalp. He combed his fingers through, catching any loose hairs that fell away, breathing in the odd, clean scent Keith favoured. He twirled the length of Keith’s hair around his hand, leaving it settled over his shoulder as he turned off the water. He grabbed a loofah from the shower shelf, soaking it in water and soap, before turning back to the broad expanse of Keith’s shoulders. 

He pressed a kiss to Keith’s ear, before dragging the loofah over his spine, slow, steady circles to remove the sweat that soaked his lover’s skin. He was careful around the bruising, scrubbing at his sides lightly, under his arms, over his ass. He turned Keith around, caressing his pecs lightly before washing them too, his stomach, the trail of hair leading down to his groin. 

Keith watched him the whole while. Lance could feel his steady eyes on him as he scrubbed Keith’s biceps, his forearms. He took Keith’s wrists, soaping around them. Lance squeezed soap from the loofah into his hand, before washing Keith’s with his own, their fingers sliding together, slick and strangely erotic to Lance’s distracted mind.  

Keith huffed, his fingers catching Lance’s and squeezing, before bringing them to his mouth to kiss. Lance’s heart fluttered in his throat.

Lance sunk to his knees in front of Keith, dragging the loofah over his thick thighs, feeling the muscle under his hands, watching them flex as Keith shifted from foot to foot. Lance bent further over, moving to Keith’s calves, his ankles, washing his feet with gentle care. He made a mental note to take a pumice stone to the hardened heels later. For now, Lance settled for kissing his calves, before settling back onto his knees, turning his attention to Keith’s cock, hanging hard and heavy between his legs. Lance brought his soapy hands to Keith’s balls, slipping past them to wash over Keith’s perineum, between his asscheeks. 

Keith arched his eyebrow at Lance as he lightly rubbed over Keith’s hole.

“I’m very thorough.” Lance informed him, a cheeky smile playing at his lips as he slid his hands down Keith’s thighs to wrap around the backs of them. “I’ve gotta make sure you’re spick and span.”

Keith snorted, but said nothing. There was nothing to say as Lance wrapped a hand around Keith’s cock. He slid his hand over the length of it, marvelling at the thickness, the pulsing veins running over the length of it, the prominent one on the underside that Lance ran his tongue over.

Keith’s head thunked back against the wall and his hand dropped to Lance’s head, holding him steady as Lance tongued at the head of his cock, teasing the underside of it with tiny kitten licks, where he knew Keith was sensitive. Keith pushed his hips forward, encouraging Lance to move further down, but Lance stayed stubbornly where he was, sealing his mouth over just that thick mushroom tip, sucking hard, and Keith swore, hand slamming back against the wall while the one on Lance’s head tightened immediately. Wet strands squelched between Keith’s fingers when he pulled hard and Lance moaned, sending reverberations up Keith’s hard cock. 

Lance swallowed the precum already pooling on his tongue, a little dismayed at just how well Keith had pavloved him into savouring the warm, salty, slightly metallic taste. How many nights had he spent just like this, on his knees for Keith to slide his cock into his drooling mouth, for it to be so instinctive for him to sink his head down onto that throbbing, hard length? To flatten his tongue against it, bob his head up and down Keith, all his focus narrowed on the way his lips spread wide to accommodate him.

Keith groaned above him and the noise was music to Lance’s ears. Saliva pooled in Lance’s mouth and he spread it down Keith’s length, taking him in over and over again. He could feel his lips beginning to swell from the strenuous work, his jaw beginning to hurt, but nothing mattered in the face of Keith’s encouraging moans ringing off against the tile walls. Lance slid off Keith’s cock, panting, watching the way his spit dripped off Keith’s cock. Lance, transfixed, shifted so that Keith’s cock head rested plush on Lance’s bottom lip. He tapped it lightly against the pink of his open mouth, watching with fascination as a thin string of precum connected Keith to his lips. He pursed his lips and couched Keith’s slit right against the tiny gap that opened between them, before sucking hard. 

Keith, as always, fell victim to the dirty trick. He slipped his hands right to the back of Lance’s head, pulling him down onto his cock, forcing the whole length right to the back of Lance’s through, and Lance choked on the sudden intrusion. Valiantly, he refused to let Keith pull back from his mouth, his hands holding tight to Keith’s hips to keep him where he was; buried right to the hilt in Lance’s pliant mouth, Lance’s nose buried in the thatch of wet, black pubic hair at the base of Keith’s cock. Lance whined, completely wrecked by the scent of Keith — musky, a bit smokey — filling his lungs, loosening his convictions. He could stay like this forever — Keith’s warm hands pushing lightly on his head, his throat swallowing around the thick head at the back of his throat, spit dripping down his cheek — so long as it was at Keith’s feet, Keith’s darkened eyes on him. 

He was vaguely aware of his own cock, hard and leaking, between his legs, and the fire building in his gut, but he had a job for himself today and he was going to stick to it: love Keith properly. 

With one last, heart thumping taste, Lance pulled away from Keith, his hands falling to steady himself on the floor, panting. Keith let him go, with only a bit of reluctance, one hand fisting tight at the base of his cock as Lance peered up at him with glittering eyes. Keith cupped Lance’s cheek, bending at the waist to press a sound kiss to his mouth. Lance wrapped his arm tight around Keith, keeping him right there, letting his hot tongue push against Keith’s, feeling the way the back of his eyes grew warm, his head dizzy, as Keith stole away his breath and devoured him entirely. His tongue rubbed over Lance’s teeth, his tongue, tasted the roof of his mouth. Keith took his time refamiliarlising himself with Lance’s pleading mouth, open and soaked for him. Lance sat there, on his knees, jaw dropped for Keith to rub his thumb softly over the thick muscle of his tongue, let Keith’s slip two fingers inside him to pull it out, making it easier for Keith to wrap his lips around the wet appendage, sucking hard. 

Lance swallowed, his knees coming together to squeeze around his cock, sparks blowing behind his eyes and a muffled moan leaking out around where Keith has him all to himself. Keith stroked Lance’s cheek, his own spit lightly wiped on his cheeks, before Keith hoisted Lance to his feet, pulling him into his chest. For a long moment, Keith held him tight, and Lance reveled in it; Keith had always had stronger arms than Lance, capable of picking him up easily and cradling him like a princess. It used to rankle at him, but having that strength constantly in his corner —  resting gently on his spine at events, guiding him through reckless crowds, heavy on his shoulders where Lance sat in his chair during coalition meetings, a steady presence lingering as his side — was intoxicating, especially when that strength softened enough to massage tense shoulders and hold Lance’s niblings with sweetness. Besides, Lance could kick Keith into a wall with ease, the strength in his legs unmatched by anyone on the team (except maybe Shiro). And Lance knew Keith loved it — more than once he’d ended up with his thighs around Keith’s head, Keith’s tongue pressing deep inside him while he moaned and writhed on the training room floor.

Keith kissed him on his jaw, before nudging his nose against Lance’s. “Let’s finish up in here,” he murmured, “I don’t want you slipping.”

Lance nodded, the rapid movement clearing his foggy head enough to twist the tap back on to rinse Keith’s hair out. 

Keith moved to get out of the shower, but Lance grabbed his hand, pulling him back. “One second,” he huffed, “Impatient.”

Keith acquiesced to being shepherded back under the spray, wetting his face, before Lance, face wash in hand, gently rubbed it into his skin, taking care around his covered wound and the sensitive skin of his eyes. Lance traced his thumbs over Keith’s cheekbones, his hard jaw, his broad forehead. His face was so lovely, so pleasing to touch, to drag his fingers over and trace every scar and contour, to feel the way his lips dipped into his square chin. He smiled, kissing Keith between his eyes. He felt the flicker of Keith’s smile against his chin and buried his face in Keith’s hair, so content it ached in his teeth.

Lance went to turn off the shower, but Keith gripped his wrist lightly. Lance blinked at him, questioning.

“You too,” Keith whispered. There was no reason for it, their new quarters were soundproof, in a private wing of the castle; no one would hear them. But something about the moment, the shower cubicle so filled with steam that they couldn’t see beyond the door, called for intimacy; the whispered words of two lovers with everything in the world on the line.

Lance stilled while Keith took the opportunity to drag a few slow kisses up his throat before grabbing the face wash. He squirted some out onto his hand before washing Lance’s face with somehow more tenderness than he’s displayed so far. Lance stayed silent while Keith mapped out the planes of his face, absently pressing kisses to his soapy skin and then frowning at the taste. Lance’s smile twitched up with every vaguely disgruntled expression, too enamoured to make fun of him.

Eventually, reluctantly, Keith closed Lance’s eyes for him, two gentle fingers drawing down delicate eyelids, before aiming a light spray at the top of his forehead, so the force of the spray didn’t hit his face. Keith’s hands washed away the soap while Lance slipped further and further into that space that encouraged him to follow Keith’s whims; to give up on his troubles and stresses, leave the whole world locked outside their bedroom door while they drew the blankets over their heads, lost themselves in each other’s bodies, their unending love. 

Lance drew Keith into the warmth of the bathroom, arms wrapped around his neck and kissing him hard, an edge of desperation leaking into the way their teeth clacked lightly against each other with every turn of the head.

Lance tugged a towel from the rack, bundling them both inside it, forcing them close together to feel Keith’s hard length pressing against his own. Keith held the towel around them closed while Lance pulled a second, softer one, using it to towel off Keith’s dripping hair, amused at the way Keith furrowed his brow as Lance rubbed the towel quickly over his head, the ends of his hair. They made quick work of drying off, only stopping for Lance to settle Keith against the countertop, rubbing oil into his hair, and moisturiser into his skin (and Lance’s own). Lance forced Keith to stay still while he applied bruise cream to Keith’s torso, rubbing it in firmly and whispering apologies with every sound of discomfort Keith let out; it was better to get the done now than for Keith to exacerbate his wounds fucking Lance into a mattress. Lance knew his fiancé; he couldn’t hold back.

They don’t bother with clothes.

What would be the point of it? Lance can barely consider the idea before he’s being led back to their bed where the blankets still lay ruffled and messy from Lance’s earlier luxurious sprawl. Lance couldn’t help but laugh as Keith took the time to smooth out the sheets. Keith just smiled at him over his shoulder.

“No obstacles.” He grabbed Lance by the wrists, pushing him down onto the bed so Keith could climb over him, pressing their mouths together hot and hard. Lance moaned as Keith, amped up and desperate from Lance’s attention earlier, grinds them together, no mind for sensitivity when Lance is under him, wanting and needy. 

Keith mouthed down Lance’s chin, over his jaw and his neck, sucking and biting where it would be clearly visible regardless of the high neck of so many of Lance’s shirts. Lance shivered, not bothering to protest the already forming marks, remembering the last time he’d gone out covered in Keith’s visible claim; he’d gotten scolded by Shiro, Allura and Coran, but the bone deep smugness that had lingered on him as tabloid after tabloid revelled in the dark bruises littering his neck was addictive. He couldn’t wait to show these ones off too — a slightly unbuttoned white shirt would do the trick nicely.

Keith tugged at his waist, pulling him into a wanton arch and plastered himself to Lance’s front, a rough suck on his adam’s apple leaving him gasping and clutching at Keith’s wet hair, feeling it drip over his body, shivering while lightning tingled up his spine with every cold drop.

“You are gorgeous,” Keith’s gravelly voice croaked against his collarbones, head tilting up to meet Lance’s eye, even as his hot tongue dragged across the just of the bone, tasting Lance’s skin. Lance whimpered, hips bucking upwards and Keith met him easily, grinding back roughly, sliding their lengths together. One of Keith’s hands gripped them both tight, jerking them rough and mean and Lance keened, head tipping back as Keith twisted his wrist, rubbing his finger right over Lance’s slit.

Lance gasped, high and sharp, knees jerking on either side of Keith’s hips, head tipping back, tapering off into a low moan.

Blindly, Lance reached down, swatting Keith’s hand away. Ignoring his own cock, Lance flattened one hand against Keith’s hard cock, rubbing it against the dip in his palm and Keith hissed, rocking back against him. Lance grabbed him tight, entirely compelled by the feeling of that rigid, hot pressure in his hand, remembering how good it had felt blocking his airways, bruising a circular shape at the back of his throat. Lance felt Keith up, alternating between firm holds, light rubs, and a hard, fast pace, his wrist twisting on every upstroke. Nothing served to set Lance off like the feeling the solidity of Keith underneath his hand; Many a boring gala had ended back in their rooms, with Lance on his knees in between Keith’s, his hand rubbing Keith’s hard on, fondling the tent in his pants, mouthing at the bulge and dragging his tongue over the soft fabric. Even better was when Keith stripped Lance naked and dragged him into his lap, falling apart as he was made to rut against that covered bulge, relishing in the inherent scandal of Keith, fully clothed and put together, as a very naked Lance whined and struggled, rutting against him. 

Keith groaned, dropping his head into Lance’s collar, wrapping his hand tight around Lance’s fist, forcing him into a steadier, faster pace, Lance whimpered, Keith’s fangs dragging scratches over his skin, tonguing the dip, his tongue a hot wet brand running in a stripe up his neck.

Lance squirmed underneath him, grinding his length against Keith’s stomach, desperate for any friction against his neglected cock, but too captivated by Keith’s hair plastered to his skin, his bangs drying steadily and frizzy. He manouvered his hand off Keith’s cock, digging it into Keith’s thick black strands, fisting it and using the leverage to push himself up into a sitting position, biting Keith’s lips, devouring him entirely. Keith wrapped both arms around Lance’s waist, tilting his head to allow Lance to reach deeper , to take more, exactly what he wanted. 

The thickness in the air dropped from a boil to a simmer, Keith relaxing where he held Lance close, Lance’s hand loosening its vicious grip. Lance pulled away just enough to be able to breathe against Keith’s lips, open mouthed pants that Keith pressed even closer for, leg hitching over Lance’s hip so he was half-straddling him. 

Keith sighed softly, his breath a warm ghost over Lance’s tingling lips and Lance responded in kind, dropping his head onto Keith’s shoulder. Keith settled down, heavy in his lap, pressing absent kisses to whatever of Lance he could reach. Lance smiled as he felt Keith carding through his hair, gentle and reverent. He could feel Keith’s heart thudding against his ribs, a slow steady beat that lulled him to sleep every night, his head nestled into the crook of Keith’s neck, his lips resting over his pulse. He breathed in, inhaling the sweat already dampening Keith’s skin, dragging his tongue over his pulse and Keith jerked in his hold. 

“Tease,” Keith scolded, muted.

“Handsome,” Lance whispered back, rubbing the tip of his nose against, biting lightly, determined to leave a vibrant mark right there for him to brag about when Keith inevitably tugged his shirt off during daily training. 

Keith kissed his temple and Lance smiled, tilting his head into the kiss and demanding more. Keith laughed, small and sweet in a way that made Lance swoon , peppering his head in kisses. 

Keith clambered off him, settling into the cradle of Lance’s legs, his hands coming to rest on his hipbones. Lance leant back on his elbows, flexing his stomach in a way that always caught Keith’s attention and made his pupils dilate like a cat. Keith rubbed his hand over the ridges of his lightly defined abs, scratching his fingernails before spreading all five fingers wide. Lance watched, mesmerised by the size of Keith’s hands against his stomach, the way it spanned his abs, brushed the beginning curve of his sides. Keith’s fingers weren’t as long as Lance’s, but they were calloused, strong, reliable. They pressed down on his gut and Lance squirmed, knees threatening to close but held open by Keith between them. Lance shifted upwards on the bed, partly to rest his head on the pillows, partly to encourage Keith to drag his hand lower, feel where Lance waited, hard and leaking, for him; he knew his lover, and as much as he wanted to get Keith to lay back and let Lance please him tonight, there would be no satiating Keith without letting him indulge in Lance’s body.

And indulge, he absolutely did. Lance watched through half lidded eyes as Keith ran reverent hands over Lance’s thighs, massaging the muscles until Lance was letting out a breathy moan, his hips shifting on the bed. Keith smiled at him, eyes crinkling, leaning down to press a light kiss to his belly button as he squirmed, a small helpless giggle escaping Lance as he nibbled at the skin. Keith’s eyes curved up even more, so damn pleased with himself.

“I love you so much,” He said, voice clear and sincere, hands cupping Lance’s sides. Lance flushed, but before he could open his mouth to repeat the sentiment, Keith’s hands were cupping the undersides of his pecs, bringing his mouth down to encase his nipple in a hot seal that dragged a gasp from his mouth instead. 

Keith pulled the bud between his teeth, dragging his tongue along the underside and Lance groaned, hands clutching at the sheets on either side of him, watching the bob of Keith’s black head of hair as he sucked and kissed at his chest, pulling off the nipple with a wet pop that had Lance whimpering. Keith shifted, always equal in his treatment of Lance, and Lance whined as the spit on his other nipple cooled in the air, leaving him sensitive and rutting against Keith’s thick thigh.

Keith pulled away from him, muscular chest heaving as he stole back his breath from Lance, who lay prone under Keith, dazed. Keith didn’t pause for long, though, immediately returning his mouth to Lance’s chest, pressing frantic kisses over his breastbone, dragging his tongue over the lines of his ribcage, latching his teeth around the bulk of Lance’s strong biceps. Lance lay there, eyes unseeing and feeling distinctly devoured as Keith kissed his wrists, trailing back Lance’s centre, coming to a rest with a hot kiss placed right over the head of Lance’s cock.

“Lube.”  

Keith’s voice cracked a little on the word, his fingers drawing down to rub against Lance’s hole. He grabbed Lance’s legs, kissing his knees before tugging them over his shoulders, mouthing at the scars on his legs with single minded intent while Lance scrambled for the lube, tucked away under their pillows where he’d stashed it earlier. 

He shoved it right into Keith’s face, waving the bottle just a little frantically and Keith snorted, plucking it from his hand with a little kiss to his knuckles.

Honestly, this man really had a thing for Lance’s hands.

Keith wasted no time in flipping the bottle lid open, drizzling lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm them up. Dropping the open bottle to the bed, Keith pressed the tip of one finger against Lance’s hole, rubbing slightly while pressing in, watching the way Lance took him so well. 

Lance whimpered, eyes squeezing shut, feeling the way Keith’s finger twisted inside him, rubbing at his walls and encouraging him to open up. It was so easy to give into Keith; to spread his legs and trust that Keith would be good to him. Keith always took his time with opening Lance for him, always treated it like a gift bestowed upon him by some higher power. Lance couldn’t look directly at Keith as he slid another finger into him, too embarrassed — even after all this time — at how his body just seemed to lack resistance when Keith was the one pulling on his knots.

It was quiet in the room. The only sounds Lance could hear were his own muffled noises and Keith’s heavy breathing, the sound of lube spilling across his thighs and ass as Keith grabbed the bottle, pouring it out directly onto Lance’s hole. Lance gasped, knees jerking at the cold temperature and Keith kissed his knee apologetically, but the glint in his eye said he was anything but sorry. Lance shot him a cross look, but it melted away at the sensation of Keith’s finger rubbing lightly over his prostate. Lance moaned, loud and full, head thrown back and legs tensing over Keith’s shoulders as Keith continued to massage at that spot, his hips bucking futilely against the strength of Keith holding him down.

Lance can feel the stretch in his mouth , three of Keith’s fingers spreading wide inside him, testing the give of his rim. Lance inhaled as Keith hooked his finger on Lance’s rim, pulling down in a way that had Lance choking out a shocked, “ ah!”

Keith smiled at him, satisfied and smug at the sweat beading on Lance’s forehead, the hickeys blooming on his fiancé’s chest and collarbone, marking him as clearly as his ring did. Lance flushed as he finally met that heavy gaze, proprietary and assessing, as Keith gathered his ankles in one hand, shoving them back so Lance’s knees were forcefully pressed down against his chest, giving Keith clearer access to his hole. Lance squirmed as Keith rubbed three wet fingers over him, before slamming them hard into Lance. 

Lance cried out, his body trembling under the assault of Keith’s fingers pounding into him, Keith’s entire body weight powering the rough movement, possessed by the single minded desire to watch Lance shake and cry. Lance was fully aware of the tension in his gut, the strain of his cock, heavy against his stomach and beginning to pulse in a way that had Lance scrambling to ground himself, not willing to cum this early — to spend the rest of their night wrought with overstimulation. He knew damn well he wouldn’t make Keith stop if Keith wanted to fuck him like that; whining and crying, his body a mess of pleasure-pain that set his teeth on edge and had him slamming back against Keith. It didn’t help that Keith was definitely a fan of Lance’s tear stained face, lips wet and pleading for more, even as his body rejected the very thought. 

Lance’s face was definitely on it’s way to tear stained now; his breath came in gulping hiccups, the burn in his thighs a necessary evil, grounding him in place as Keith dragged his blunted nails along his sensitive walls and abused his prostate with a self-satisfied smile at Lance’s debauched state. Lance didn’t want to think about how he must look to Keith; his hole gaping and red, taken for all it’s worth by Keith’s demanding claim on him. Keith took his body like he owned it and jesus christ, in a way it really felt like he did — like he’d burned himself onto Lance’s retinas, scored himself in Lance’s throat as Keith’s name fell from his lips over and over. He was sure his body held the shape of Keith at this point, with how simple of a process getting Lance ready to take Keith was at this point, when once it had taken nearly a half hour to coax Lance’s body into the pliancy needed for Keith to sink into him.

Lance tipped his head back, his neck an exposed arc as he cried out, high and needy as Keith dragged his fingers out of Lance’s hole. Keith bit off a moan of his own as Lance clenched down around him, desperate not to lose the stimulation, no matter how little. Lance’s legs trembled, burning with strain, his voice singing a litany of please for Keith to just—

“ Fuck me baby, oh god, please, fuck me, I need it.”

Keith seemed to share the sentiment, if the way he rutted his hard cock against Lance’s empty hole was any indication.

“I could get off just like this,” Keith’s voice was near feverish, his eyes glued to the bob of Lance’s cock, the arch of his stomach, “Could come on your stomach, your needy hole, drape you over my lap and toy with you until I got hard again.”

Lance sobbed, his eyes focusing on Keith’s hungry, vacant gaze through a wet film. He’d do it, was the problem. There was nothing Keith loved more than putting Lance over his lap, his knees, fucking him open with toys and fingers to watch how Lance’s hole took it so damn well. It was an exquisite, consuming form of torture, but right now Lance thought he might die if Keith decided to ditch their current position for that proposition

“Please,” He gasped, voice thick, and Keith’s eyes snapped up to him, completely absorbed in the sheer need emanating from Lance, “I need you, baby, god please, I need you right now!”

Keith steadied himself, one hand pressing Lance’s chest down into the bed, preventing him from rising up to take control, Lance’s heart skipped a beat as he hovered over him, tangled black hair in wild locks around his head, sweat gleaming off his pale, scarred skin. He looked almost predatory, near animalistic, the whites of his eyes tinged yellow and his fangs glinting in the lamplight as he hunched over Lance, pretty with his legs spread, lube glistening over his inner thighs and on his stomach.

Keith took the moment to rest his forehead against Lance’s, spreading Lance’s legs and securing them against his waist, before kissing Lance soundly. Lance ran his hands over Keith’s shoulders before winding them right around him, sucking Keith’s tongue into his mouth, moaning as it flickered against Lance’s tongue, ran behind the back of Lance’s teeth. 

Keith pulled away, chest heaving, eyes lidded, hair frizzed into a soft halo around his face and Lance was in heaven.

“Love you,” he gasped out, stealing another kiss from Keith’s open mouth, throat raw, “so fucking much. So, so much .”

“ I love you, too.” Keith drew back from him, even as he lingered in the kiss for just a moment.

He rubbed his hands over Lance’s thighs, soothing, allowing the air to cool between them; to fade away the frenzy in the air so he could be gentle with this part.

Keith lined his cock up with Lance’s hole, ready to push in, but Lance grabbed his forearm, abrupt and remembering his initial plan for the evening now that Keith wasn’t stealing away his brains and thoughts.

“Wait!”

Keith froze, eyes clouding with worry as he dropped his hands to Lance’s hips, frowning as he rapidly searched Lance’s face for discomfort, pain, anything that would draw Lance to a stop.

“Lance?” Keith urged, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no ,” Lance reassured, desperate to wipe that stress off Keith’s face; that was the opposite of what Lance wanted tonight. “I want to ride you.”

“Love,” Keith relaxed, his hands beginning to absently squeeze and rub over Lance, entirely distracting, “You can have whatever you want from me.”

Lance flushed, but pushed on. 

“I want it to be good for you,” he confessed, sitting up to cup Keith’s face, catch his lips with his own, “Want you to feel so good .”

“It’s always good with you,” Keith kissed his cheek sweetly, nosing at the underneath of his ear. “ You’re good for me.”

“Still,” Lance insisted, pushing the matter even as he felt Keith press closer, “I want to; You’ve been so tired—”

“We’ve both been tired,” Keith interrupted, gentle, “This was your first day off in weeks , Doll. You’re exhausted; you were asleep when I got back.”

“I know , but I want this, Keith. I like… being here for you. I’m never too tired for that.” Lance felt Keith’s searching gaze as much as he saw it. Felt the way Keith’s muscles relaxed where they held Lance.

“I’ll never turn down the chance to see you on top of me.” Keith pressed a kiss to his eyelids and Lance flushed underneath him. 

He offered Lance a hand, helping him up into a sitting position. Together they moved around, fluffing the pillows and sitting them up against the bedhead, so Keith could sit upright, Lance settling in his lap, thighs bracketing Keith’s own. 

Keith’s hands landed on his hips, heavy and hot on Lance’s bare skin, tracing the stretch marks on his hips from his rapid height change in puberty. Keith leaned forward, kissing him right on the throat and Lance squeezed his shoulders.

Reaching behind him, Lance grabbed Keith’s slick cock, taking a moment to smooth his fist over it, pumping up and down for long enough that Keith let out an impatient grunt, moving his hips to rest just above his cock. Lance snorted, but acquiesced. Slowly, he sat down, feeling every inch of Keith as he slipped inside, fighting down a whine at the delightful stretch, the slight burn, the noise of lube-slick skin between them. It always amazed him just far down he had to sink, constantly assuming he’d met the end but instead feeling Keith fill him even more, his cock thickening towards the base and spreading him even further. Lance couldn’t help the moan that dropped from his lips when he finally settled his ass down against Keith’s hips, feeling Keith’s stomach muscles flex under his hand. He clenched down on Keith experimentally and shivered, the heavy sensation of Keith buried deep inside him throbbing in his stomach. With Keith’s gentle encouragement, Lance lifted himself up again, before sliding down, every hot inch carving into him, letting his eyes drift open to catch on Keith’s. He shivered, feeling distinctly out of his depth; regardless of how many times he’d taken Keith’s cock in exactly this way, Keith never failed to make him feel like a hapless virgin stumbling his way through a filthy encounter.

Over and over, Lance rocked himself in Keith’s lap, never letting Keith’s cock leave him fully, pushing aside his own pleasure to focus on making it good for Keith. If Keith’s face — eyes closed in bliss, mouth panting and cheeks flushed — could be trusted, Lance was doing his job. Keith’s hands were tight on Lance’s hips, fingernails digging red crescents into brown skin. The little zing of pain only spurred him on, deliberately ignoring his hard cock slapping against his stomach with every bounce. He panted, his mind hazy as he dragged himself up and down Keith’s fat cock, slow and deliberate, making sure Keith — he — felt every single inch as it pushed into him, clenching down around it so Keith moaned, low and echoing around their room. 

“ Lance, ” Keith gritted out, “ Don’t be a fucking tease.”

Lance hid his smirk, ducking his chin at the vengeful glee that zipped through him. Some fucking payback for all those times Keith had kept Lance on his back, his ankles up by his ears while Keith took his sweet damn time forcing Lance to understand just how big the cock taking him was. 

“You love it,” he said, smug, squeezing Keith’s pecs under his hands.

Keith leaned forward, wrapping his teeth around Lance’s nipple and Lance jerked forward. a gasp wrenched from his mouth at the sting, and fell, unbalanced against Keith. With his hands on Lance’s waist now, Keith pulled him off his cock, slamming him back down and Lance cried out, helpless as he shuddered, wrenched up and down Keith’s cock like a fleshlight. Keith didn’t even bother to move his hips, content to manhandle Lance into doing the work. Lance whimpered, feeling Keith’s cock head shove directly against his prostate, over and over again until he was seeing sparks, his mouth open and tongue lolled out, head resting on Keith’s shoulder, his arms squished awkwardly against Keith’s chest. 

“Keith!” he sobbed, shoving his head further into the crook of Keith’s neck, fingers clawing at his collarbones. Keith just grunted, forcing Lance to rock down harder against him, relishing in the slap of Lance’s plush ass against his thighs.

 “Keith— oh my god—” he babbled, screwing his eyes shut as Keith paused to grab his ass, squishing the fat between his fingers. One hand came up to tuck Lance more securely into his neck, before returning his hands to his ass, smacking the underside lightly just to watch the way they moved. Lance moaned weakly, head swimming as Keith traced a finger around where they were joined, feeling the tightness of Lance’s rim where he had him speared open, his body a willing vessel for Keith’s pleasure. 

Keith kissed his ear before pulling back enough to expose Lance’s sweaty front to the air of the room.

Lance shivered in Keith’s lap, head pounding and eyes burning as he just sat and felt the heavy weight of Keith inside him, burning him up. He pressed a hand to his stomach, desperate to feel if Keith had finally managed to puncture him, sure the boiling feeling in his gut couldn’t be anything less. Underneath his hand, he was sure he could feel the throb of Keith’s dick pressing back against him, but maybe it was just his heart beating so rapidly it thrummed in his ears and his mouth. Keith’s pupils were blown wide, transfixed on Lance’s sweaty chest, his flexing stomach, his thighs on either side of Keith’s hips.

Keith grabbed Lance by the hips, planting his feet firmly on the bed before thrusting his hips up, fast, rough and dirty in a way that had a cry getting jammed in Lance’s throat, leaves him choking and scrabbling at Keith’s chest, only succeeding in leaving bright red lines across pale skin. Lance whined, high and needy, as Keith pulled him down over and over again, forced Lance to bounce in his lap like a doll, completely unbalanced and unable to breathe, captive to Keith’s hard fucking, useless and wanton. Lance’s legs hung uselessly over the sides of Keith’s hips, his fingers flat and knuckles taught on Keith’s chest, tears sparking in his eyes while Keith impaled him over and over again — hot, thick cock throbbing inside him, stretching his rim taught with every movement, empty and pulsing when Keith pulled out. His fingers latched onto Lance’s ass cheeks, pulling them wide and exposing his gaping hole to the cool, open air and Lance gasped, world narrowed to the ten points of pain in his flesh and the desperate clenching of his wet, abandoned hole. 

Keith cursed lowly in Lance’s ear, fingers pushing deep inside Lance, smooth and quick. Lance quivered on top of Keith, letting him feel his battered, swollen hole, shaking as he dragged calloused fingertips over the sensitive walls of his insides.

“I need to see.”  

Keith’s voice was wholly wrecked as he grabbed Lance, tumbling them over so Lance landed on his front, his legs spread wide and his chest low against the mattress.

“Flatter,” Keith demanded, hands already shoving Lance’s chest to the bed, forcing his spine into a cruel arch. Helpless and captive to that lustful gaze, Lance tangled his hands in the sheets above his head, the twinge in his back barely noticeable as he fought desperately to regain control of his buzzing brain. It was all for nothing, he reckoned, when Keith brought his mouth to Lance’s soaked hole, and sucked hard against his rim,

Lance cried out, twisting his spine, trying to crawl away from the overwhelming sensation, but Keith just held him in place, hands wrapped around Lance’s hips as he indulged himself. He dragged his teeth over his sensitive hole, and Lance squirmed, choking on a sob.

“ You wanted this. ”

Keith’s voice was clear and unmuffled, and Lance could feel his gaze burning a line down his back. He shifted his hips, shaking them slightly and Lance heard the slightest hitch in Keith’s breath as he continued speaking.

“You begged me to have you, to take care of our stress,” He kissed Lance’s ass, hands trailing downwards to squeeze at the severe dip of Lance’s waist, “I’m just giving you want you want.”  

Nevertheless, Keith didn’t move back, his hands rubbed Lance, waiting for him to catch his breath, to be ready for the next round of debauchery Keith was desperate to inflict on Lance. Lance knew with just a whispered ‘yellow’ , it would be over, and Keith would flip him onto his back, pull away the hard voice and his sweet, loving partner would be cooing in his ear, calming him down, but he needed this . Needed Keith’s rough hands giving him what he needed, his mouth taking what it wanted, putting his mind at ease.

Lance buried his face in the sheets, entirely overwhelmed as Keith’s hands constricted on his waist, grabbing harshly in a way that he knew would leave bruises on his skin.

“Christ above, angel,” Keith muttered, “You’re so fucking tiny here.” 

Lance felt the flicker of pride in his gut, hearing how badly Keith was affected by something as simple as the way his hands fit so perfectly on Lance’s waist. It had been years since Lance had placed too much emphasis on his looks, his body; war had scarred his face, his flesh, had forced him to grow muscle too fast, at the same time the stress of it had leached the fat from his face, leaving him feeling unbalanced and wrong. He’d only begun to come back to himself in recent years. Keith’s loving hands and honest mouth hadn’t solved his problems, but it was the bottle of glue he’d needed to put the pieces back in place — the intimate knowledge of a broken body doing nothing to sway his complete adoration, his bone-deep attraction. Lance lived for Keith’s hands stroking his spine, squeezing his waist, sinking inside him — they dragged him back down to himself, reminded him he was more than a mind melded to a mechanical god.

Sometimes, Lance still couldn’t believe what Keith saw in him. Couldn’t believe Keith Kogane, with that lovely hair, kind eyes, strong hands, and a big fucking sword to boot — a literal knight in shining armour — could want him so badly he’d come home, exhausted and beaten, and look relieved at the sight of him sprawled across their ( their!) bed. Keith could have anyone — Lance knew it for a fact; he’d stewed in jealousy for years of will-they-won’t-they, waiting for the day Keith would lay his eyes on one of the many gorgeous people that always approached him at parties, a coy hand trailing down his armour, batting their eyelashes, and take them to bed with him. But he never had. Without fail, he’d offer an awkward smile, a stumbling rejection, and dart back to Lance’s side, hands resting on his waist, tugging him into his personal space. It was intoxicating, being desired by Keith. It still was.

Keith’s hands slid down his hips, spreading his ass wide again. Lance felt him dip two, three, four fingers into his hole, just twisting them inside him to feel how open he was. He pulled them out, rubbing lightly as he left and Lance shifted in the sheets, shooting him a wet eyed look over hos shoulder that only served to make Keith hold him tighter. Two fingers dug back inside him, hooking on either side of his rim, and pulling him open and Lance gasped, body lurching forward, but Keith paid him no mind. Lance could hear his heart beating in his ears as Keith held him open like that. 

Just looking.

He buried his face in the pillow, his ears boiling and legs shaking, his hole clenching desperately, trying to close around the tight grip holding it open.

“Keith,” he whimpered, “ stop that.”

Keith chuckled behind him, dark and low in a way that had him stomach tightening, his legs spreading just a little wider. 

“You’re even smaller here,” Keith muttered, releasing him, bringing his cock back to his hole and sinking in without hesitation. Lance whimpered, head shoving into the pillows, thighs trembling.

“So tiny,” Keith trailed one hand up his back until it rested solidly between his shoulder blades, shoving him down and holding him there, “and you take me so fucking well.”

Keith picked up the pace, his thrusts solid and hard into him, dragging back out and deliberately dragging against Lance’s prostate. 

“You should see how you look, sweetheart.” Keith slammed hard against him, grinding into him and Lance sobbed, tears trailing over his cheeks, his hole a red hot, pulsing point of pleasure that overwhelmed his senses, Keith’s hands on him hot brands searing into his skin. “Taking every fucking inch, so well trained for this, aren’t you? My beautiful boy.” 

Keith hunched over him, one hand grabbing his jaw and pulling it open, forcing Lance’s noises to bounce around their room, loud and unashamed. Keith pressed two fingers into his mouth and Lance whined, letting them feel the spit dripping from his lips. 

“Suck, Angel,” Keith demanded, his fingers pressing down hard on Lance’s tongue, “want you so fucking filled up from both ends when you come.”

Lance nodded, hollowing his cheeks and laving over Keith’s fingers in his mouth, desperate to do exactly what Keith wanted, his hard cock rubbed red on the bedsheets and on the edge of cumming. 

It didn’t take Lance long like that. Completely possessed from both ends, spit on his jaw, Keith’s hard cock gaping him so open he was sure he’d be like this for days. Lance could picture himself tomorrow morning, Keith spooned up behind him. Waking up with his legs open, on his side, his poor, bruised hole split open on Keith’s cock, Keith’s hot breath on the back of Lance’s neck as he treated himself to Lance’s body. Or maybe he’d be roused by Keith’s slick mouth on his hole, teasing him awake, big, strong hands clenching over his thighs, keeping them open for Keith to taste.

Really, the image was enough for Lance to come. 

He comes with a loud, sobbing cry, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jerked, hands fisting in the sheets. His ass clenched down around Keith, feeling the way he was so fucking open , and it only served to prolong his orgasm. It didn’t help that Keith fucked him through it, never pausing the fingers in his mouth or the cock in his ass as it bullied its way in and out through the resistance, forcing Lance’s passage open with single minded determination. His head is buzzing, his mouth open, barely aware of what’s happening around him, when the finger are ripped from his mouth, coming to wrap around his throat and pull him up. 

Lance cried out, his head forced to rest back on Keith’s shoulders, looking directly up at him. His body was shaking too much to stay upright on his own, but Keith wrapped an arm around his lower belly, keeping at just the right angle to continue using his wrecked hole. Keith stared at him, completely transfixed on the dried tear tracks on his face, the haziness in his eyes as he trusted himself entirely to his fiancé’s hands. Keith ripped his eyes away to look down at Lance’s body, his bruised nipples, his stomach flexing over and over with every thrust, his still semi-hard cock soaking wet and slapping against his stomach with a soft schtick sound. Keith adjusted his hand to wrap tightly around Lance’s cock and Lance struggled hard, clawing at Keith’s hand still wrapped around his throat. 

“ Please,” he choked out, eyes wide and begging, but Keith just kissed his forehead, continuing to rub at Lance’s cock, forcing him back to full hardness.

“One more time.” Keith’s voice was frenetic, near manic, sounding exactly the way he sounded just before he landed a hit, adrenaline fuelling every minuscule movement. Lance shuddered, hearing that determined, wild tone turned on him. “You can come for me one more time, let me see, Pretty Thing, I wanna see you come, my darling .”

And with Keith’s words in his ears, his eyes boring right into Lance’s, what else could he do?

He let Keith pull a second orgasm from him, his eyes blanking and mind shutting down, his entire body a live wire rippling with sparks.

He felt Keith bury himself in his ass and grind , felt that familiar heat as Keith filled him up, coming deep inside him. Deliriously, he thanked god he couldn’t get pregnant; with the way Keith got off on his own come spilling out of Lance, and their unlucky track record, he was pretty fuckin’ certain the asshole would’ve managed to put a baby in him by now. 

He hung in Keith’s arms, shivering, as Keith sighed, his hips still working, enjoying the heat of Lance’s body, his slick hole. He pressed sweet kisses against Lance’s sweat, soaked neck, and Lance moaned, weak and entirely too sensitive. Keith chuckled in his ear, his hold on Lance shifting into a genuine embrace, hugging him tight and nosing at his air. Lance lolled his head, resting it against Keith’s cheek, letting him take his full weight as Keith started to move him, lying him down on their bed, his ass up and raised still.

Keith ran his hand over Lance’s thigh, soothing, even as his hand pulled Lance’s ass open for him to watch white cum trickled down Lance’s tanned legs, his brilliantly red hole. Lance whined, plaintive, as Keith sunk a finger into him, just feeling the gape of Lance’s hole, how much of himself he’d left behind. 

“ Keith ,” he admonished, weak.

Keith leaned down, kissing his back.

“Rest, Lovely,” he murmured, “I’ll make sure you’re all clean.”

“No more baths,” Lance muttered, his eyes already heavy and his brain desperate for a break, “Too many ‘s bad for my hair.”

Keith laughed, low and fond, even as his mouth lowered to breathe air over Lance’s hole.

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

—-

Lance was still asleep in bed when Keith pushed the door open the next morning. He’d had to deal with the team’s vicious heckling when he’d arrived in the dining room that morning, his neck bitten red and no Lance on his arm. Pidge had sneered and gagged, chucking a piece of toast at him. He’d caught it in his mouth as he stuck his finger up at them, uncaring for Shiro’s stink eye.

The harassment had been worth it to come back to Lance, still wearing the big, cobalt sweater he’d dressed him in the night before, fast asleep, his hair a complete birds nest, a mask covering his eyes as he dozed in the fluffy white comforter. 

As he set down the breakfast tray on his bedside table, his eyes focused in on the visible hickeys littering the inside of Lance’s thighs, the finger shaped bruises he’d left on Lance’s soft, giving skin.

He smiled a little, trying his damndest to tamp down the flush of smugness he felt at being the one allowed to cover Lance in such a visible, thorough claim. No one in the universe could look at him, the line of that elegant throat, the dark bruises covering it, and not know that Lance McClain (to be Kogane-McClain, if Lance had his way), the jewel of the new universe, was taken. That was, if the ring on his finger, the jewel glinting a lovely red-blue, didn’t designate him as very obviously Keith’s. He’d thought the ring would be enough to ward off any potential suitors, but the delusion of some people could not be thwarted so easily.

Really, Keith thought, taking in Lance’s sleep-sweet expression, his long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, his sharp, pink cupid’s bow dainty on his face, he couldn’t blame those fools for trying their luck. He didn’t know what he would have done if Lance had ever, in their years of playing cat and mouse, indulged one of those many tryhards with his body. He wanted to think he’d have said something, bucked up the courage to confess his feelings then and there, but if Lance had been happy… well, there was nothing he’d ever wanted more in life. 

He was beyond glad that Lance was at his happiest in Keith’s arms. Keith would dedicate his entire life to keeping Lance happy, warm, and safe, god-willing. 

Silently, he climbed up onto the bed, tracing his fingers over Lance’s soft lips, still bitten and bruised from the night before. He tweaked Lance’s adorably big ears, his thin, expressive eyebrows that he’d plucked when he was younger, and that had never grown back. Keith cupped his chin, feeling the beginnings of stubble growing in, and dropped a kiss to those plush lips, trailing his lips over Lance’s cheek.

Ideally, he’d let Lance spend the rest of their day asleep for Keith to look at, to admire to his heart’s content, but duty would eventually come tapping on their door. War left little room for sentimentality. Every hour alone was hard fought for, a wonderful gift that gave Keith a taste of a tantalising life, every day more within reach. 

Keith looked at Lance and saw a house with a blue roof, thriving poppy bushes in the front yard, and a big brass knocker on the front door. A kitchen crowded with herb plants, a couch and a dinner table big enough to fit their rowdy family. A doghouse in the backyard big enough to fit Kosmo’s constantly growing body, though the big baby would refuse to stay outside. A master bedroom with a too-big bed for them to rest in, shoes piled at the door, clothes strewn over an armchair next to a stack of Keith’s books, Lance’s headphones. A room, just a door down, with a crib in it, sunlight dappled on the floor, a plush lion cradled by tiny arms, tiny fingers. Lance’s head on his shoulder, for the rest of his life. 

Keith wanted it so badly he could taste it. 

But for now, this?

Lance’s lovely eyes squinting up at him, his cheek lined with pillow indents, the instinctive tilt of his chin for Keith to catch his lips?

This was more than enough.