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The castle is dark as Lance makes his way out of Blue’s hangar and toward the block of bedrooms. He carries his helmet under one arm, pushing the other hand through his sweaty hair. Even though there is no conventional sense of time in space, he’s never liked the sense of night that the castle in low-power mode brings. It’s cold and sterile, and it makes him feel lonelier than any other time aboard the ship. He shakes his head as he reaches his room, going to place his palm over the sensor beside the door. Lance hesitates just before his hand makes contact, pulling back at even the suggestion of spending another eight hours alone with only his thoughts.
Lance considers going for a short walk around the castle, just to clear his head. Brightening at the idea, he quickly steps inside his room and strips off his armor and bodysuit, not bothering with a shower before pulling on his pajamas. It’s not as though anyone will see him, anyway.
Satisfied with both his decision and appearance, Lance leaves his room, the door sliding shut behind him. He makes his way leisurely through the castle, lost in the dull hum of his own anxious thoughts. It’s always like this for him, after missions. Back on Earth he never had a hard time calming his mind, but something about being trapped in the vastness of space leaves his thoughts in disarray.
Lance has been walking for what he estimates is about 15 minutes when he hears a shout in the distance, followed by the unmistakable metallic clang of the training simulator. Seeing the door to the training deck a few meters in front of him, he hastily makes his way over to it. The door is left slightly ajar, unusual for any of his teammates. Lance eases it open slowly, stepping silently into the room just as the training bot is sent crashing to the floor.
A quick bolt of messy black hair and pale skin streaks across the room, stopping in front of the defeated bot and holding a foot to its chest. Keith stands over the bot, panting heavily and wiping sweat out of his eyes. His expression is heated as he stares down at his fallen opponent and lets out a strangled laugh. He’s wearing the skin-tight black bodysuit that all the Paladins wear beneath their armor, his hair loose and damp with sweat around his face. His eyes, Lance thinks wildly, are on fire.
“Resume simulation,” Keith demands of the room at large. The training bot obeys, jolting to its feet and settling in front of Keith as they both take offensive stances. Lance watches, heart thudding in his chest for reasons he’d rather not contemplate, as Keith quickly charges the bot. He’s fighting with his blade rather than his bayard, making quick but calculated slashing motions as the bot advances on him.
Lance flattens himself further against the wall, watching with wide eyes as Keith fights. His movements are swift and sure, harsh and aggressive but obviously skilled. Keith is rough, never shying away from close combat as the bot charges him again and again. I wonder if the roughness carries over, Lance thinks, rubbing a hand a little desperately over his face. It comes away sweaty, and he distantly recognizes the heat pooling between his legs as something dangerous.
Lance has always thought of Keith as attractive. Even if his personality is objectively terrible, he fights like a warrior and certainly has the body to show for it. The combination of his deep blue-violet eyes and the mess of dark hair that Lance reluctantly admits suits him has left him breathless since he’d first seen Keith. Lance knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this attraction has given way to what could be tentatively called a crush, but he refuses to dwell on it. Keith, oblivious to both Lance’s presence and inner turmoil, makes a particularly sharp stab toward the bot. Lance’s mouth falls open slightly as Keith twists away in time to avoid retaliation.
Lance takes an involuntary step forward, biting back a soft moan as the material of his boxers brushes over the erection he’s sporting. He bites his lip, forcing himself to stay still even as a hand trails down over his chest and down his hips to squeeze himself through his pants. The training deck is kept cool, but sweat is dripping down his forehead as he tries valiantly to stay quiet. His hips twitch forward as Keith makes a particularly skillful maneuver, and suddenly he can’t take it anymore.
“End simulation,” Lance calls before he’s even aware of saying anything. The training bot falls to the floor and Keith whips around in confusion, his eyes quickly finding Lance against the wall. Lance is instantly grateful for the soft blue robe he’d decided to wear.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Keith spits, stalking toward him in a way that Lance knows is meant to be menacing, but his traitorous brain insists is hot hot hot.
“I, uh,” Lance begins eloquently, suddenly very aware of how hot his face is. “I was just going for a walk around the castle.”
Keith comes to a stop three feet in front of him, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. His gaze is heated, but there’s a hint of a flush on his cheeks. “That doesn’t explain why you had to stop my simulation. I had almost beaten it!” He snaps indignantly.
“Sorry, I just—sorry,” Lance tries again. Truthfully, he isn’t sure what he’d hoped to achieve by ending the simulation, but he sure as hell couldn’t stand there and keep watching Keith fight. Somehow, leaving had not registered as an option. At the reminder, his cock gives an interested twitch, still fully hard.
Keith trains his stare on Lance’s face, looking at him as though there’s something to be deciphered from his expression. “Are you okay? You’re bright red, I hope you didn’t catch something on the mission.”
Lance groans softly, dropping his head into his hands and resolving to stare at the floor for the foreseeable future. He feels Keith step forward into his space, sees the tips of his boots as they come to rest a foot away from Lance’s slippers. His head snaps up as he feels Keith’s cool hand—where are his gloves?—against the back of his neck.
“You have a fever, Lance. We should go find Coran, he might know something about whatever was on that planet,” Keith tells him, meeting his eyes with what Lance might have mistaken for concern if he wasn’t certain that Keith hates him. Lance’s heart stutters in his chest regardless. What the fuck.
“I’m fine,” He tells Keith, surprised when his voice comes out steady. Keith steps toward him and Lance feels his back hit the wall, tensing as Keith draws even closer and studies his face intently.
“Oh my god, what are you—” Lance manages before Keith takes a final step forward, pressing their chests together as he pins Lance in place. Keith takes his chin in his hand, and for a wild moment Lance thinks he’s about to kiss him, but Keith just turns his head to the side and peers at his neck.
“Are you sure? Even your neck is red, that can’t be normal,” He argues. He continues his study of Lance’s face, turning it side to side. Lance twists slightly in his grasp, trying to escape, but Keith pins him, his thigh coming up to rest in between both of Lance’s.
Lance, whose face is hotter than it has even been before, gives a quiet but unmistakable moan. Keith freezes in place, drawing back slightly to look at Lance, who is carefully looking anywhere but at him. Keith’s thigh brushes against him again, and Lance drops his head onto Keith’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh.
“What—?” Keith begins, forcing Lance’s face up and meeting his eyes with a look of dawning comprehension. Lance is helpless but to look back at him, simultaneously dying of embarrassment and burning with arousal.
“Oh,” Keith says, more of a quiet exhale than anything else. Lance wonders briefly if he’s having a nightmare, a thought that is quickly cut off as Keith grinds his thigh purposefully, pressing himself even closer.
Lance gives a garbled moan before he can even think about stopping himself, face falling once again into Keith’s shoulder as he brings his hands up to grasp Keith’s waist. This bodysuit is doing unfair things to him.
“So, not sick, then?” Keith fucking purrs, pressing his hips insistently into Lance’s as his hands find purchase on Lance’s shirt.
“What the fuck…” Lance croaks, hips canting up into Keith’s even through his confusion.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Keith is wearing the single most self-satisfied expression that Lance has ever seen on him. His hands fall from Lance’s sides to his hips, fingers digging in as he continues to grind.
When Lance had imagined this in the past, he’d always assumed there’d be a bit more conversation involved. Possibly heated argument. He supposes that he’d prefer this, though, so instead of replying he lets his lips fall into the space between Keith’s neck and collarbone, sucking gently.
Keith, who had been strangely silent until this point, gives a shuddering gasp. His hands fall further to grasp Lance’s ass, forcing their hips together. Lance, satisfied with this reaction, bites sharply down on Keith’s collarbone.
“Ahh—” Keith chokes out, his head falling back and Lance continues trailing his lips down his chest. Keith’s fingers come up to fist in his hair, holding him firmly in place. Lance grins against his skin, bathing in the satisfaction of apparently rendering Keith Kogane speechless.
Just as they start to get a good pace going, hips grinding quickly into each other, Keith pulls away. His eyes are dark as Lance meets them, his expression openly hungry. Lance opens his mouth to say something, he’s honestly not even sure what, but Keith cuts him off with a bruising kiss.
It occurs to Lance the moment their lips meet that, although they’d spent the past 15 minutes rutting against each other, they hadn’t actually kissed yet. The thought is fleeting as Keith licks hungrily into his mouth, drawing out a moan that Lance only distantly realizes came from him. Their hands eagerly grasp and stroke as they kiss, the proximity making it challenging to determine exactly which set belonged to who. Lance’s mind goes blank as Keith holds him against the wall, bringing one hand up to tangle in the short hair at the back of Lance’s neck. Keith growls softly into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip. Lance is trapped helplessly against him, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to move even if Keith released him. More than that, he doesn’t want him to.
Keith pulls away first, breathing heavily and staring at Lance with such open desire that he feels his knees weaken. “M’gonna…” He mumbles, hands eagerly parting Lance’s robe and falling to the waistband of his pajama pants. Lance stares at him, unable to formulate a single thought, as Keith drops to his knees and looks up at him expectantly. “This okay?” He asks, pinning Lance with his stare.
Lance barely has time to nod before Keith’s fingers are tugging down his pants and boxers in a single, fluid motion. He gasps brokenly as Keith’s hands steady on his thighs, parting them gently as he presses a wet kiss to his hipbone. Keith doesn’t remove his lips, instead grinning briefly against Lance’s skin and then sucking hard. Lance moans, loud and uncaring, as Keith laves his tongue against him. Lance’s cock presses into his belly, leaking precome and twitching spasmodically.
Keith pulls back, lips wet and red. He makes piercing eye contact for a split second, just long enough for Lance to brokenly wonder how he’d gotten to be so good at this, before he dips his head back down and closes his lips over the aching tip of Lance’s cock, swirling his tongue over it. Taking the base in his hand, Keith steadies himself for a moment before sliding his lips down, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks gently. Lance has long since lost control of the noises he’s making, moaning loudly and fisting a hand firmly in Keith’s hair. Keith quickly builds a rhythm, sucking firmly and making tiny moaning noises in the back of his throat.
“Keith, oh my god, holy shit, what the fuck—” Lance gasps, tightening his fingers in Keith’s hair as he gives a particularly hard suck. Keith hums around him, scraping his teeth oh-so-gently across the head of Lance’s cock in a way that he never imagined would feel good but holy shit, it really does.
Lance, still lost in his haze of pleasure, inhales sharply when he feels two of Keith’s fingers prodding against his entrance. Keith must notice, because he pulls off of Lance’s cock long enough to make eye contact, wordlessly asking permission to continue. At Lance’s nod, he pulls both fingers back, pressing them into his own mouth and staring up at Lance. Lance briefly wonders what exactly he’s done to deserve this. Before he can voice his question, Keith pulls his fingers out of his mouth and presses them back to Lance’s entrance.
“Just relax, okay? I won’t hurt you,” Keith tells him, uncharacteristically gentle. Lance nods again, still largely unable to form coherent speech, and Keith takes him back into his mouth.
Keith sucks gently, pressing one wet finger into Lance as he takes his cock all the down his throat. Lance’s hips buck involuntarily at the intrusion, but Keith holds him still, slowly thrusting his finger in and out a few times. Lance has only even done this to himself, and the angle is different, but soon the discomfort fades and leaves searing pleasure in its place.
“Oh—” He chokes out as Keith crooks his finger, finding the place inside him that makes his vision go white and his knees collapse. Keith holds him steady, never faltering in his pace as he swallows Lance down and hits that spot inside him over and over. Lance can feel pressure building steadily between his legs, Keith is so good at this and Lance gives a sobbing moan as a second finger presses inside him.
“Keith, I’m close, I’m not gonna last,” He warns, feeling his eyes roll back as Keith gives a sharp thrust with his fingers at the same time that he drags his lips firmly up Lance’s aching cock. Lance tries clumsily to push Keith off, but he holds him tightly, lips never faltering as he increases the pace of his fingers. Lance barely has time to shout a warning before he’s coming down Keith’s throat, stars blinding his vision as his hips twitch forward. Keith slows, sucking a few more times before pulling off Lance’s cock, his fingers sliding out at the same time. He rests his head against Lance’s hip, taking a few deep breaths as Lance’s vision returns.
“Holy shit,” Lance gasps, removing his hand from Keith’s hair as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. Keith looks up at him through his lashes, lips and chin wet with saliva and come, looking so beautifully flushed that Lance’s heart seems to stop in his chest. He lowers a hand to the back of Keith’s head, cupping it gently as he pulls him up.
Keith stands slowly, eyes never leaving Lance. The hunger from before is still in his eyes, though he looks a little awkward. He goes to step away, but Lance instinctively grabs him before he can. Pulling Keith to him, he kisses his lips, surprised when Keith returns the kiss with fervor. Keith’s hands find his waist as he pulls them closer together, lips leaving Lance’s mouth to trail down his neck. He bites hard, similar to what Lance had done to him earlier, and Lance throws his head back, pushing a thigh between Keith’s legs before—oh.
Keith is still hard beneath the tight material of his bodysuit. Suddenly understanding the hunger in his eyes, Lance drops a hand to his crotch, gently palming him through the fabric. Keith hisses a breath through his teeth, fingers tightening on Lance’s hips.
“Hmm, like that?” Lance whispers, his lips directly beside Keith’s ear as his grasps his cock more firmly.
Keith looks directly at Lance, a smirk gracing his lips even as he lets out another stuttered gasp. He moves his hands down Lance’s, pushing them aside so he can unzip the material of his suit. He pushes it aside, freeing his cock in one motion. Lance, lost for words, trails his fingers across the now-bare skin of Keith’s hips. Suddenly shy, he looks up at Keith for confirmation.
Keith grins dangerously. “Like this,” he says, capturing Lance’s lips with his own at the same time that he places Lance’s hand directly on his cock. Lance’s brain short-circuits.
Keith is warm and heavy in his hand, skin like velvet. He hesitantly wraps his hand around him, giving a few experimental tugs as Keith’s face drops into his neck. He moans brokenly against the sensitive skin there, and Lance shivers, tightening his grip.
“Yes, Lance, like that, faster,” He gasps, thrusting sharply into Lance’s hand. Lance cannot believe how hot Keith is like this, begging him. If he hadn’t just come, he certainly would’ve been hard again. Lance speeds his hand up, grasping Keith firmly as he wraps his other arm around his waist. Keith’s moans are coming faster now, breathier, and Lance thinks he might be close. He adds an experimental twist of his wrist and Keith cries out against him, fully thrusting into Lance’s hand and kind of throwing off his rhythm, but he definitely doesn’t want Keith to stop.
Keith gives a single high-pitched moan before Lance feels his hips twitch sharply, a warm wetness seeping over his fingers. Lance slows his pace, gently stroking him as he comes down from his orgasm, panting into Lance’s neck. When Keith stills, he removes his hand, absently wiping it on the back of Keith’s suit.
Keith looks up, meeting his eyes, and Lance is blown away by how wrecked his face is. He knows he probably isn’t much better, but even combined with everything they just did, he thinks that Keith’s face in this moment might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His heart is pounding.
Just as Lance opens his mouth to say something, anything, Keith beats him to it. His eyebrows knit together as he pointedly looks anywhere but at Lance, despite the firm grip he still has on Lance’s hips.
“That was… was that okay?” He asks, face bright red.
Lance thinks privately that this is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen this boy do, and Keith does a lot of unintentionally cute things. He figures he should put him out of his misery.
“Yeah, it—yeah. It was great,” He says softly, nudging his nose against Keith’s temple where it’s now bowed against his shoulder. Keith looks up then, something soft and gentle and uncharacteristically hopeful in his expression. Lance smiles at him.
“Good. I realize it was a little unexpected, but you seemed okay with it, so—” He starts to say, but Lance cuts him off with a kiss, eager to end that line of thought.
“Keith. I’m very okay with it. More than, actually. I’ve… wanted that for a long time,” He says sheepishly, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck. He hears Keith’s surprised intake of breath but can’t quite bring himself to meet his eyes—did he overstep? Sex is one thing, he thinks, but admitting to months of wanting it is entirely another.
He doesn’t have long to ruminate on this train of thought when Keith grasps his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Really?” He says, eyes searching Lance’s as though looking for any shred of teasing.
“Yeah,” Lance breathes, and it’s all he can say before Keith’s lips are upon his again. Their kiss is slower this time, gentler than it was before. Lance opens his mouth to Keith immediately upon feeling his tongue on his lips. Keith presses closer, and Lance wonders hazily how that was even possible. They kiss for a few moments, soft and languid, just breathing each other in, before Keith pulls back to look up at him.
“Me too,” he says, so quietly Lance might not have heard him if they were any farther apart. Lance feels his face splitting into a grin so wide it hurts, ducking his face to hide in Keith’s shoulder. He’s so happy he can physically feel it in his chest. A quick glance at Keith shows him wearing a similar expression.
“Yeah?” Lance asks, unable to keep from confirming a final time.
“Yeah,” Keith agrees, pressing their lips together again.