Chapter Text
He’s infuriating. Absolutely, completely, and utterly infuriating. Who, you might ask, is so madly infuriating?
Lance.
The team’s pretty blue paladin drives Shiro up every single wall there is in the castle. And there are a lot of walls.
He’d love to push Lance up against one.
It’s been known since the beginning that he’s horrendously flirty. They discovered an alien robot cat and a gigantic spaceship castle and Lance’s first response to meeting aliens was to hit on one of them.
Shiro’s also known since the moment he laid eyes on him that he wanted to know more about him. It was just general curiosity at first, intrigued by this spirited stranger that helped save him from the researchers at the Garrison. But then he started to get to know Lance more and more, and he couldn’t help but fall head over heels for those pretty blue eyes and sharp tongue.
And fuck, don’t even get him started on that tongue. Sometimes it’s hard to listen to what he’s saying, too focused on how his plump lips form around each word and his tongue slips out to wet them. The way he chews on the bottom when he’s nervous makes Shiro want nothing more than to grab him and bite down on it himself. To sink his teeth into the soft flesh under Lance’s jaw and make him moan because he just knows he's sensitive there.
Except he can’t, because Shiro is the leader and Lance’s well-being is his responsibility. He can’t step over that line no matter how much he wants to. It’s not ideal, but he’s handling it. Or at least, he’s trying to. It’s hard when he constantly has to watch Lance hit on just about any life form they come across.
Which is exactly what’s happening right now, just across the room from him.
They’d finished up securing a new alliance with the people of Maja’qis and Allura had said they could explore the market for a bit before leaving. Lance had initially gone off in search of whatever beauty products this species offered and Keith had immediately left to take a look at the weapons shop they’d seen on their way in. Pidge and Hunk went in the direction of gadgets and food, respectively, leaving Shiro behind to wait for them all at some sort of cafe.
It hadn’t been long before Lance was prancing back in, but he hadn’t even looked at Shiro when he did. No, he walked right up to the counter where a pretty Maja woman was standing and immediately began talking to her, not sparing Shiro a single glance.
Infuriating.
— — —
"Do you take anything seriously?"
Lance flinches as Shiro paces angrily in front of him. He doesn't know why he's so upset with him. He'd been sitting and eating some of the snacks Hunk had secured at the little market they'd gone to when Shiro came in. He already looked a little annoyed but he sounded even more so when he told Hunk to give them some privacy.
"What are you talking about?"
"You’ve been slacking off too much lately.” He snaps, not looking at him, just continuing to walk around restlessly. “You weren’t paying any attention the other day at the diplomacy meeting, you’ve barely trained lately so you’re falling behind everyone even more, and your hangar is a mess of tools and parts even though Blue is still in rough shape from a battle that was weeks ago.”
Everything that he says pushes Lance further and further into the little shell that he built when he first joined the team. That bit about falling even more behind hurts, like he doesn’t kill himself every day trying to be half as good as any one of them. Usually it’s Keith or Allura that just blatantly tell him he’s doing a shit job and Shiro doesn’t often say anything at all, so it’s much worse to hear it coming from him now.
“I’m trying my best, Shiro. I’ve been-”
He cuts him off, “Your best isn’t good enough, Lance. You say you want a more important role on this team, but you can’t go a single, simple mission without throwing yourself at the nearest thing with a pulse.”
Lance feels like he’s been slapped in the face. It’s one thing for the others to tease him about his failed attempts at wooing the various aliens he’s come across, but another thing entirely for the way Shiro just said it. Because as useless as he already feels after being told that he’s basically dragging the team down, Lance is at the mercy of stronger feelings.
But it’s not like he could help it, not with the way that he got to see up close how amazing of a leader and person Shiro is. He’s longed for years out in space to be able to get as close to him as Keith and Allura, even Pidge. He’d have done anything before to get his attention. Every single cadet at the Garrison wanted to be Shiro, and that included Lance. He just wants to be seen for how hard he tries.
He regrets having fallen for him.
Because unfortunately, this is what Shiro notices instead. His pathetic attempts to try to get over his feelings by drowning himself in the affections of others. Not that anyone else was all that interested either. More often than not, Lance finds himself even more dejected than before with every single encounter.
There must be something about him that’s just overall so… pathetic. Undesirable.
And apparently he’s taking too long to respond, because Shiro stops in front of him and snaps, “Well? Are you gonna say anything or just sit there with your mouth hanging open?”
Of course, it’s then that Keith stumbles into the awkward situation, completely unaware of the thick tension between them. He glances at Shiro and pauses on his way to the goo machine.
“Uh, hey?”
“Keith, hey!”
Shiro turns away from him and smiles at Keith like nothing happened and a sinking feeling settles into Lance’s gut as he gets up from the table. Keith’s here so it’s time for Lance to disappear back into his room and keep out of everyone’s way. He can feel two pairs of eyes on him as he slips out of the room wordlessly, head ducked down so he doesn’t have to see them and so they can’t see the red in his cheeks and the tears in his eyes.
— — —
“I’m trying my best.”
Lance’s words echo in his head for days after the conversation. All he can think about is how hurt Lance sounded when he said it and the way his hands were shaking when he left the dining hall. He shouldn’t have taken his frustration out on him like that.
But what is he supposed to do when Lance struts around looking as gorgeous as he does, especially in his paladin armor, only to flirt with random strangers? It’s getting worse and worse as time goes on, and he’s sick of it. It’s hard to stop himself from just grabbing him and shoving him down onto literally anything and doing… less than savory things to him. Not very leaderly.
So he makes sure to keep him at arm's length, even if that means snapping at him for things that he wouldn’t normally mention. He doesn’t actually think that Lance is falling behind, but Keith’s pointed out before that he could use the motivation to do better sometimes. Legitimately saying it out loud to him was different though, and Shiro wonders if it was the right choice to listen to him.
That question was answered on day one when he found Lance practicing hand-to-hand with a drone on the training deck. All Shiro had to do was walk into the room and clear his throat and Lance lost focus and ended up on his ass. The look of embarrassment that took over his face made Shiro’s heart ache, but then he was back on his feet and ending the training protocol so quickly that he didn't get a chance to ask if he was okay. He definitely wasn't.
At least he was practicing more, and it was definitely paying off. Things would be different in real battle, but he was moving around more fluidly than he had at first. The way he’d been dancing around the drone when Shiro had first walked in was honestly enchanting, but it was better that he’d scared him away.
Luckily, he didn’t run into Lance training again after that.
Everything was going pretty smoothly, actually, until Allura sent them on an unusual and unspecified intel run to a massive trading hub.
Go in, act natural, get the info, get out.
That was the basic plan. Easy, right?
— — —
Acting naturally is Lance’s most promising skill. Sure he’s a good shot with a rifle, and he’s getting to be a better pilot the more they battle, but he’s always been an even better actor. Act like he’s not desperate for his parents’ attention when he’s stuck as the middle child and everyone else takes precedence over him. Act like he isn’t absolutely heartbroken when he gets assigned as a cargo pilot after failing his qualifiers. Act like he wasn’t insanely jealous that, despite his temper getting him kicked out, Keith was a better pilot than he’d ever be. Act like he isn’t madly in love with Shiro.
That’s where he’s all but perfected the craft. The last thing he wants is for a single soul to discover how he feels about their captain. He could never embarrass Shiro like that, put him in such an awkward situation that’s just going to hurt Lance anyway. He didn’t have that kind of selfishness, or confidence.
So this little mission Allura sent them on should be a piece of cake. Maybe even two.
Lance just has to put on a little disguise (not that anyone would really recognize them outside of their paladin armor) and make small talk with some shifty looking strangers. Simple, he does that half the time already. Shiro definitely thought so.
But he wasn’t anticipating that Allura would decide to change up their usual pairs for missions. She’d partnered herself with Pidge for their first location, assigned Keith and Hunk to the second, and left the third to Lance and Shiro. He didn’t miss the look of annoyance that flashed through those gray eyes at being stuck with him. He didn’t blame him either.
Luckily for them both, their jobs were separate. It was better that they act like they don’t know each other to avoid rousing any suspicion. Still, Lance can’t help throwing a nervous glance in Shiro’s direction every so often. He’s looking at him now as he’s in the middle of a group of dangerous looking aliens, weapons strapped onto various surfaces of their bodies. There’s no immediate threat to him, they’re regarding him as one of their own, but Lance still can’t hide his nerves.
But then he hears the group shouting a bunch of nonsense, some shoving at each other mockingly, and Shiro’s head turns and their eyes meet. He doesn’t even get to think about what to do because the other paladin is shooting him a look so full of contempt that Lance wants to drown himself in the pretty little green fountain outside. And then he’s facing the group again and Lance twists back in his seat uncomfortably.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to know more about Krejn?”
His eyes dart to the creature beside him and he holds back the grimace at the sight of them. He’s used to aliens and their odd forms and speech and everything, and he’s learned to appreciate those differences and oddities, but sometimes they meet aliens that just look… gross. As is the case for Vhirel, a traveler from Krejn. But from what Allura told them, this could be a promising lead.
“Sorry, sorry.” He slips on a sultry grin and whether lucky for him or not, it does the trick.
“It’s easy enough to get distracted here.” Vhirel’s wide shoulders shrug. “It’s quite loud, perhaps we should continue this somewhere more quiet?”
That should automatically be a hard no, but he can’t afford to let this one slip. Allura had said there was a good chance they wouldn’t be able to find anything, so this is his chance to prove he can be useful. If he gets something good enough, then maybe Shiro won’t look at him with so much disdain. He has to do this.
Besides, he’s not defenseless. The team is close by in case of an emergency, and he has his comms device to reach them if there is one. And if it really comes down to it, he’s gotten a lot better at melee combat.
“Lead the way, Vhir.” He grins.
— — —
Shiro, just a little bit, hates Allura for partnering him with Lance. He doesn’t really, there’s no way she’d know and she has the best intentions, but missions with Keith are so much easier. They’re two cogs of the same machine, perfectly oiled up and in time with each other despite any other wear and tear on the rest. They don’t even have to speak to know what the other is thinking.
With Lance though? He can hardly manage to keep his eyes off of him already, and the disguise that Allura stuck him into was not helping. It’s not even that special of an outfit, but any time he gets to see Lance in something new is a treat to him. These days all he sees are Lance’s armor, jeans and jacket, and occasionally his pajamas. None of them get the opportunity to really branch out in terms of fashion, as wistful as Lance was about that.
“Gyro, huh? Get a look at that beauty there.” One of the locals that’s seated near him shoves his shoulder and gestures across the room. At Lance. “Looks like she could be one of your kind.”
It’s not the first time Lance has been mistaken for a woman before, and definitely not the last. He’s tall and lanky, sure, but he’s got the most gorgeous pair of legs and the way his eyes light up when he’s excited is absolutely breathtaking. And as he glances over, he fully intends to let himself enjoy the sight of his thin figure wrapped tightly in a suit similar to the ones they wear under their armor, but this one is just a hint more blue, and there’s a sheer tunic over his chest that sparkles like the stars, dipping just below his abdomen in the front and trailing over his ass and down his thighs in the back.
Luckily, he got a good look earlier on their way down to the planet’s surface, because Lance’s eyes are already on him and it startles him. Immediately he hides that surprise and morphs it into something harsher, shrugging at his companions before looking away again.
“Definitely not one of our women.” He remarks, because it’s true. He is a human, but definitely not a girl. It might honestly be easier if he were, then Shiro wouldn’t have to struggle so hard with how hopelessly attracted to Lance he is.
There are a few teasing jeers at him but then the crowd gets back to their previous conversations, and Shiro is careful to listen in. They’ve already been here a varga, but it’s not really looking like they’ll find anything. As shady as the different aliens look, not one has breathed a word about the Zarkon, the empire, or the Galra. Hopefully the others are having more luck.
He glances down at the comms device on his wrist and sighs, shaking his head. If they haven’t found anything by this point, they likely won’t. He looks up to check on Lance again, ready to signal for them to head back to the castle, but he’s disappeared. One of the aliens must notice his apprehension because she punches him in the shoulder and laughs.
“Not one of your women, eh?”
Shiro doesn’t spare her a single twitch in response, standing up instead and crossing the room to where Lance was seated and landing a heavy metal hand on the shoulder of one of the other patrons next to his stool. They look back at him and shrink under his hostile gaze.
“Where’s the one who was next to you?” He growls, Galra hand starting to light up.
He shouldn’t be this angry, but he’s worried. Lance is known to wander off during their rare leisure time outside of the ship, but never during missions. So something has to be wrong. The last he’d seen, he’d been engaged in a conversation with some odd, almost Balmeran looking alien- if the Balmera were rounder and more… slimy. Wordlessly, the alien points a shaking tentacle to the door in the back, and Shiro takes off in a mild panic.
The street outside of the door is empty, but Shiro can hear some sort of commotion happening nearby and he follows the sound. He’s darting around corners and down long alleyways until he makes his way around one more and freezes at the sight in front of him. Lance is standing there, caged against the wall by the Balmeran-like alien with flushed cheeks and a smile. Every single nerve in his body feels like it’s been lit up, and he wants nothing more than to charge over there and tear the thing away from Lance.
But clearly, Lance has finally found a creature that’s giving him the attention he wants, and he can see it in the embarrassment on his face when Lance catches sight of him.
“Shi-”
“Seriously, Lance?” He’s a mix of angry and hurt and heartbroken, but his voice is like venom to his own ears.
“Wait, I need h-”
Shiro cuts him off, “Find your own way back.”
He almost regrets saying it. Almost.
“No, Shiro!”
He turns his back and walks away.
— — —
As soon as they’re out the door that Vhirel pulls him through, Lance is thrust into the nearest alley and doesn’t get any chance to ask what’s going on because he’s being shoved further and further into a maze of walls. He’s just gotten himself together enough to say something as they stop, but the Krejnian has other ideas.
Lance's head fills with blaring alarm bells as Vhirel surges forward, arms on each side of him trapping him against a wall.
"Wow, that kinda came out of nowhere." He laughs nervously as he watches them lick their lips. “Awfully forward, don’t ya think?”
"You've been teasing me for long enough, don't you think?"
What? “What?”
Vhirel rolls their eyes and chuckles, “Come now, you’ve been making such delicious eyes at me for varga. Weren’t you asking for this?”
“I- I…”
He swallows thickly, fingers twitching at his sides where his communicator is tucked into a pocket. There's not enough time for him to try to call anyone though, they would just take it from him. This isn’t at all how he’d imagined this going down and the odds aren't great, but there's a relatively decent-ish chance he could slip away. His eyes dart around to each end of the alley in search of an escape route, until they land on a familiar face and widen in surprise.
Shiro.
Lance stares at him in relief and opens his mouth to call out for him, but stops short when he sees the annoyed scowl he's wearing.
“Shi-”
"Seriously, Lance?" His lip is curled in disgust and Lance feels his heart dropping into his stomach.
Shiro thinks that he’s fucking around again, literally this time. The anger in those gray eyes makes his lip tremble and he forgets for a moment about the large creature looming over him because he’s never seen Shiro look so… resentful. He doesn’t care if he hates him though, he’s terrified as the situation dawns on him again. It’s better that he’s here, even if he looks at him like that.
Lance’s voice wavers just a little, "Wait, I need h-"
“Find your own way back.”
What?
“No, Shiro!”
He's interrupted when Vhirel suddenly grabs his hips and slams him back into the wall. As a long, thin tongue snakes out to trace along his jaw, Lance panics and shoves them away, twisting to the side so he can run but freezing when he sees Shiro disappearing around the corner. Leaving him there.
"Where do you think you're going?" The deep voice growls behind him.
Lance whips around in time to see a blade slicing through the air towards him and jumps back just in time to dodge it, but then he's tumbling back over his own feet in his hurry. He falls to the ground with a painful thud and cries out as long fingers tangle into his hair with a stinging grip.
"Let me go!"
Lance lashes out at the alien in an attempt to get away but then his head is being slammed forcefully into hard brick and his vision erupts with stars. Still, every cell in his body is screaming at him to run and he won't ignore it. He musters up all the strength and will that he can and rips his head away from their grasp, ignoring the pain so he can shove them away as hard as possible. As soon as he's got the space, Lance dashes forward towards where Shiro had disappeared.
He doesn't waste any time looking back to see if he's being followed and instead runs as quickly as he can, bounding around corner after corner in hopes that he'll run into Shiro, or anyone. That plan seems flawless until he hits a dead end. He hears a low chuckle and turns slowly, cowering at the sight of Vhirel and the sharp blade they wield.
“It’s awfully rude to run away right when things are getting good, little creature.”
Without thinking about the potential consequences, Lance runs forward and tries to slip around them, using his thin physique to his advantage. He’s so focused on getting away that he misses the foot that extends and trips right over it, crashing to the ground. He doesn’t get to try anything else as a thick boot sinks into his stomach and knocks him onto his back with a pained cry.
“Such a bony, awkward thing you are.” Lance scrambles to get up and they kick him again with a grin, “I thought you’d make an interesting fuck, ugly as you are, but you're not worth the trouble. Even your companion must have thought so.”
He cringes at the mention, another cry pushing past his lips as he’s wrenched up off the ground by a choking grip around his throat. Short nails scratch desperately at the hand but they feel like nothing against Vhirel’s slippery skin and just make him laugh. With his free hand, Lance is trying to reach into his pocket and get at the communicator, but it’s plucked from his fingers the second he touches it.
“Now, now, what is this?” That low growl of a voice turns to pure delight at the sight of the device and they drop Lance to the ground carelessly, leaving him to grasp at his throat in a fit of coughs. “Altean tech. You’re with Voltron.”
“No-”
Vhirel kicks him for a third time in the gut with a sickening grin. “I know of a certain emperor who would pay a pretty price for you.”
No.
Lance dodges out of the way of another kick, but he only manages to crawl a few feet before Vhirel pins him with a boot on his back.
“Quite a surprise that a scrawny thing like you would be of any use to Voltron.”
A surge of anger and despair shoots through him and he twists around under Vhirel’s weight, using it as an anchor as he hooks an arm around his legs and puts all his strength into flipping them over. Vhirel hits the ground with a satisfying thud , but Lance doesn’t have any time to spare. He jumps up, ignoring the intense pain in stomach, and takes off again.
It isn’t until he hears the rowdy sounds of chattering from the bar that Lance takes the time to look behind him, breathing easier when he doesn’t see Vhirel. He comes to a stop and shoves his hand into his pocket before realizing his comms device had been tossed aside.
“Lance?”
He turns to the side where there’s another alley, face lighting up at the sight of Hunk and Keith.
“Hunk, Keith-”
His relieved greeting dies on his lips as a burning feeling erupts from the center of his chest, and for a few seconds, he just looks at his friends in confusion over the horror on their faces. And then his eyes follow theirs to his torso and he startles at the sharp point of the blade sticking out from his chest. He barely registers the two of them letting out angry cries, Keith rushing past him with his bayard transforming smoothly into his sword while Hunk grabs Lance to keep him from falling. The heat inside of his chest is starting to fade into a cold numbness, and he grins lopsidedly up at his best friend.
He looks terrified, "Lance! Shit, guys!" Hunk yells into his communicator and a muffled voice responds. "Shiro, are you still inside? Get out here, Lance is hurt, we need help!"
"Heyyy buddy, it's okay." Lance slurs as he reaches a hand out to poke at his tear stained cheeks.
He hears shouting over the comms, but he doesn't pay attention to them, more focused on Hunk's sudden uncharacteristic fury.
"Where the fuck are you?" He snaps.
Lance doesn't get the chance to hear anything else, a wet warmth spreading out over his skin. It drips down his chest and soaks into his tight undersuit, his vision blurring. Shit, lights out time.