Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

NOW

Shiro clutched at his sense of reality, but as he was tossed through the wormhole, it was getting increasingly difficult to hold on. There were colors and lights flashing in front of his eyes, his line of vision scrambled; he squeezed them shut, knuckles white against the arms of his chair. He had to push back against the panic clawing its way up his throat in the form of a scream.

His lion came to an abrupt stop minutes later and he catapulted forward, pain exploding along his hip as he slammed into the controls. He let out a loud breath of air, eyes snapping open. His lion was still spinning, stars moving like streaks in front of his screen. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled to regain his balance, hands working desperately at the levers to right his lion.

For a few minutes, he could do nothing but breathe.

Everything’s okay. You’re fine, he kept telling himself. He tried to take a deep breath, and eventually succeeded. In, out. In, out.

Once he was no longer in danger of losing onto his lunch, he peered out into the spacious void he was in, trying to determine where his teammates had gone. To his left there was an unfamiliar planet in the far-off distance. A glance to his right told him that he was dangerously close to being drawn to another planet’s atmosphere.

“Where am I?” he whispered, leaning back into his seat. He forced himself to relax, then reached above and turned on the communications hub, testing the connection before he began speaking.

“Guys!” he called, waiting a beat. “Is anyone there? I can’t see anyone.”

There was no response.  

“Hello? Lance? Keith?” He took hold of the controls and flew his lion in a large circle, peering out into the darkness. “Pidge? Coran? Come on, somebody has to be out there.”

The panic that he’d just set aside was starting to make a comeback.

Shiro took his lion back towards where he’d come from, searching the empty space in hope that he might spot one of his wayward teammates. When nothing presented itself, he stopped moving.

What happened?

He remembered Coran mentioning something about the integrity of the wormhole being compromised. After that, he’d been preoccupied with trying to keep a steady hand as they were all ripped from the ship and tossed about. He could still hear the other paladin’s screams echoing in his ears.

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Now he was here. Alone.

“ Fuck. ” Shiro slammed his fist against the arm of his chair. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Come in, anybody! It’s Shiro.”

His fingers were shaking as he took control of the lion, Zarkon’s words echoing in his head.

Your connection is weak.

What connection had he been talking about? Was it just the lion, or did he somehow know about… that ?

Shiro shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on figuring out how the hell he was going to get home.

To his left there was a small cluster of floating asteroids, and further to his right was the only planet in the immediate vicinity. It looked like Earth, with a huge, spanning ocean surrounding huge patches of land scattered throughout.

Looking at it he felt a sudden, deep ache echo inside him.

He missed Earth. The last time he’d been there, he’d only visited for a day.

Decided, he eased his lion into the planet’s atmosphere, allowing it to swallow and send him shooting for the surface.

When he was relatively close, Shiro pulled back on the controls, using the lion’s blasters to propel himself upward, slowing his descent. There were two huge patches of land directly underneath accompanied by a stretch of river in between. He aimed for the water just to be safe.

On the ground, the sights that greeted him were like something out of a dream.

Everything was so green. The jungle behind and in front of him stretched for miles, and the thick foliage continued up into the high mountain ranges. It didn’t look dissimilar from some parts of Earth. After checking to make sure that his helmet was on tight, he stepped out of his lion to do some recon.

Judging by the sand bank that he had landed on, the river running between the two islands was oceanic. He knelt into a crouch and fingered at the grains of sand. Unlike Earth sand, it was soft to the touch and dusky pink. If Pidge were here, she might have had some theories about its makeup.

As he made to stand, a brown crab-like creature crawled across his foot, waving its claws in the air before continuing on its journey. Shiro watched it until it disappeared, then turned his attention to the water. The shade of blue was a little different than on Earth, but it didn’t seem toxic, by any means. Not that he was an expert.

He peered into the crystal-clear depths, watching as small fish scattered at the sight of him.

Out of all the planets in the universe, at least this wasn’t the worst one to be on. On one hand, he was virtually stranded and alone, but on the other, he wasn’t a prisoner on a Galra ship; anything was better than that.

“Okay,” he breathed, pushing himself to his feet. “Time to get some resources. If I’m going to be stuck here, I’m gonna need wood for fire and then…” he glanced around, spotting a nearby fruit tree. “Perfect. I’ll just—”

The sight of something glinting in the sunlight froze him in his tracks. Behind the fruit tree and up on a hill, barely distinguishable on the horizon, there was something metallic glimmering in the sunlight.

“Maybe there are people here,” Shiro said, cautious hope flitting inside him. His lion would be safe in its protective bubble, so he left it alone, jogging towards the metal. He picked some fruit from the trees on his way there, ultimately deciding that if this planet housed life similar to Earth’s, then it couldn’t hurt to be prepared.

It took a while walking, but once he reached the top of the hill, he looked around and quickly spotted what had caught his eye. Once he was close enough to see what it was, he gasped.

It was a pod. From a ship.

Upon close inspection, he noted that the interior was completely empty and the glass covering the front was shattered.

Shiro stroked the sharp edge, frowning.

“Whoever was inside must’ve forced their way out,” he murmured. It didn’t bode well, but he would rather find company and deal with the consequences later. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hello? Is anybody here?”

There was no immediate response. After giving it two more tries, Shiro gave up scaring away the wildlife and moved around to the other side of the pod. His eyes followed the smooth, undamaged curve. Clearly, whatever species had designed this technology was advanced. Aside from the broken glass, there wasn’t a scratch on it.

It was, however, deeply lodged in the sand, and moving it seemed an impossible feat. Shiro tried pushing at it from the back, but it was heavy; he was panting by the time he’d managed to expose some of the underbelly.

He leaned against the pod to rest, head tipped downward, and that was when he saw it—

There was an insignia. A very familiar insignia. The engraved insignia was barely visible, but now that he was seeing it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

Altea. This is an Altean pod. Don’t tell me—

“No,” he whispered, stumbling back. His heart stopped.

Then he heard it. The voice that had been haunting his dreams, his nightmares ; a voice that both terrified and exhilarated him. It was—

“Shiro?”

—Sendak.

Shiro spun around to face Sendak, eyes going round with surprise.

Sendak looked equally shocked, his mouth agape. Then surprise on his face quickly melted into one of casual aloofness. As if this wasn’t the biggest meet-up of the century.

He took a tentative step towards Shiro, and Shiro raised his fist threateningly.

It was clear that his time here hadn’t been kind to Sendak. He wasn’t as dirty as Shiro would have expected, but his fur was matted around his cheeks and chin, the thick hair around his chest in disarray. He was wearing his bodysuit, but only the armor from the waist down.

“You,” Shiro started, taking a step back. He didn’t let his eyes wander past Sendak’s chest. “How are you here? You’re—you were—”

“Dead? I’m certain you’d like to think so,” he replied, lips curling. “One cracked pod won’t kill me, I assure you.”

Shiro shook his head, dumbfounded.

“I’m hallucinating,” he said. A hysterical bubble of laughter erupted from his throat. “There’s no way that we’d land on the same planet by pure chance. This place has made me crazy.”

“I assure you, your sanity is intact. But I’ll admit that this is a surprise. To think that my omega would somehow find his way back to me is very interesting.”

“No,” Shiro growled, taking another step back and nearly tripping in his haste. His heart gave a panicked flutter. “No, I am not doing this again.” Sendak shifted towards him, and Shiro’s hand shot out, slicing aimlessly at the air. “Stay away from me!”

Sendak took a step towards him, heedless of his warning.

Shiro bolted.

He turned and ran, sprinting down the hill as fast as humanly possible. He kept running until he’d reached his lion, struggling for a few seconds to get inside.

It wasn’t until he was in space that his body caught up with him, reminding him that he hadn’t seen his alpha in weeks. The mark on his throat throbbed like nothing he’d ever felt before; he hissed, slapping his hand over the skin. It only served to convince Shiro to fly faster, to get away even quicker.

Of all the rotten luck in the world—

The person that he thought he’d left behind—that he had left behind just kept coming back again and again. It was like—like a disease. He just couldn’t seem to be rid of him. Of them. The part of himself he’d been trying to squash ever since he’d returned to Earth.

Shiro pressed his hands over his face, taking deep, calming breaths in an attempt to quell the rapid beating of his heart.

ONE YEAR AGO

Shiro was burning.

The floor underneath his hands was cold as ice, but his body felt like it was on fire. He clenched his fists as a wave of want swept through him, lust punching him in the gut, turning his insides into molten heat. He grit his teeth against a sob, trying not to move, lest he make it worse.

Heat. Of course it had to be heat.

Due to the length of their journey, he’d been taking suppressants for the trip, but those had been lost during their capture. His next heat should have been many months from now when he was  back home, safely in his bed surrounded by a variety of heat-specific toys. Instead he was on a strange ship, headed off to who-knew-where, stuck in a cold, dirty cell.

At first, in the initial days of their capture, Shiro had been able to put aside thoughts of his cycle. The days and nights blurred together, nearly indistinguishable from each other because the ship operated in open space.

Aside from worrying about Matt and the professor, he’d been more than a little curious about his captors.

Apparently, the person that had captured them was someone named ‘Zarkon’. If what he heard was to be believed, he was some kind of universal overlord. Other than that, the details of his capture, the reasoning behind his crusade—all of it remained a mystery.

The day that his heat started, it was pure luck that he’d been allowed sequester from fighting in the arena. Since Shiro was a fan favorite, and the ringleaders no longer wanted him to perish without giving some fight, they afforded him a break every now and again.

It surprised him that something so essential to his well-being had slipped his mind. Heat was in the considerations of every omega on Earth, and they never really forgot their cycles. His body must have sensed that it was happening days before, but he’d been so preoccupied with the arena, the druids, and his usual concerns for his crew that he hadn’t given it a second thought.

When he realized that he was going into heat—whether he wanted to or not—he started to panic.

If his heat lasted more than a day, then he didn’t know what he was going to do. There was nothing he could do. His only option was to suffer through it and hope that his heat would let him off early this time. He prayed that it did.

And after? his mind offered stubbornly. What about the rest?

He tried not to think too hard about that.

Shiro gnawed on his thumb, shuddering as another wave rolled through him. He could barely concentrate on the cell wall in front of him. He wanted relief so badly.

“Ah, if it isn’t the champion,” came a familiar voice from outside the cell.

Shiro went stiff. No, no, no. Not now.

“You look pathetic. Did your last battle with the thorax-crusher render you useless?”

It was him. Sendak.

He liked to watch Shiro’s matches, offering him offhand insults and little anecdotes often disguised as “advice”. Shiro didn’t know much about him, but he knew that he was in the upper ranks—some kind of commander—and Zarkon trusted him.

Shiro curled into a tighter ball, feeling hot, wet slick leak out of him at the motion. He didn’t answer Sendak’s inquiry, pressing his lips together to keep from making a sound. He prayed that Sendak would leave him be once he decided it wasn’t worth antagonizing him.

There was a brief silence, and all his hopes were dashed when he heard the quiet hiss of the door sliding open. His muscles, which were bunched into tight knots, stiffened to the point of pain. He started trembling.

“Have you contracted a human sickness? And you neglected to tell the druids?” Sendak said sharply, approaching his curled form. Shiro couldn’t stop shaking. He could feel the sweat beading on his neck, sliding down his nape. “You smell…off.”

“You can smell me?” Shiro grit out. He didn’t move; he didn’t dare. Any movement might make it worse. He was already fighting against the instinct to claw at Sendak’s clothing and beg him for help.

“We of the Galra have heightened senses that you cannot possibly comprehend. Normally, you reek of your natural musk, but at this moment you smell of something,” he paused, the words rolling off his tongue, sending shivers down Shiro’s spine, “sweeter.”

“I’m sick,” he blurted. He was still shaking but now for a very different reason.

I can do this, he thought, gnawing on his lower lip. I don’t need him. I’ve survived heats that came out of the blue before. I can do this.

He felt, rather than saw Sendak kneel in front of him, and then fingers were pulling at his hair, lifting his body until he was forced onto his knees. Sendak gripped him by his chin, peering into his eyes.

“What are you hiding?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that was sending Shiro’s instincts into overdrive. He didn’t smell like anything Shiro had ever known, but his body recognized the signs of an alpha loud and clear. He felt slick trail down his thigh, wetting the thin bodysuit he wore.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shiro said, his voice wavering. “I don’t feel well. If you leave me alone, I’ll get better—”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that,” Sendak said, sickly sweet. “You’re hiding something. I know it. It must be the source of your scent, nearly undetectable to insects like the soldiers standing guard outside your room. But to me—” He stopped to take a deep inhale. “—I can taste it.”

God, that voice.

A strangled sound that he couldn’t hope to control escaped from the back of Shiro’s throat. Sendak was so close, and he smelled so good. He didn’t even know if his species had reproductive organs, but he wanted him more than anything he’d wanted in his life.

“There, there,” Sendak continued, stroking his cheek. He trailed his nails down Shiro’s throat, using his free hand to reach at Shiro’s crotch. “I recognize this. You humans are not so different from us. The smell is coming from here and…somewhere else.”

He leaned down, holding Shiro’s head high as he located the source. When he realized it was coming from behind him, he turned Shiro around, pushing his head roughly against the floor. He pressed one finger against the wet spot and Shiro let out a shocked moan.

He tried to push himself to his feet, but his fingers felt like rubber, slipping against the floor, and Sendak’s hand was still buried in his hair, holding him there. Shiro should have been angry, but it made the primal part of him rear its head, and he spread his legs instinctively.

“I don’t remember your other companions experiencing anything quite like this. Perhaps I should pay them a visit.”

Panic filtered through the cloud of lust.

“They’re not like me!” he cried, tugging against Sendak’s hold. “I’m an omega. This only happens to people like me.”

“Explain an ‘omega’.”

“It’s—it’s complicated.” Shiro licked his lips. “Our people are classified as either alphas, betas, or omegas. Omegas go through cycles. They’re, they’re called heats. It’s reproductive like you said, and we can’t control it— ah.”

He cried out as Sendak pressed that same finger against his hole, teasing the entrance. Shiro hips move on their own, rocking back against the intrusion.

“I understand now. That’s why you smell this way. It’s a mating ritual, meant to attract a mate.”

“Yes,” Shiro gasped, relieved. “Yes. My scent changes and I—we want to mate. That’s why you should leave me alone. I’m not sick, and in a day or so, I’ll be better. Just—go.”

“Is that what you really want?” Sendak purred. The bodysuit that he wore wasn’t durable by any means, but when Shiro felt Sendak’s claws sink into the fabric and rip it apart, he shuddered, temperature flaring at the show of strength.

No! I don’t need him. I can handle this. I don’t need him. I won’t—

Shiro’s thoughts to a running halt when he felt the pressure of Sendak’s finger enter him. His claw scraped his skin, skidding across the flesh dangerously, but he was so wet at this point that the digit slipped in with ease, burying itself deep.

“I ask again: is that what you really want? You’re practically begging for my aid.”

“I—“ Shiro’s resolve, which had been sketchy at best, started melting like butter. Despite his hatred for Sendak and everything he stood for, he couldn’t imagine surviving even another minute without relief. “Oh god. I can’t—think. I can’t think like this.”

“I will help you, free of charge,” Sendak added. “Seeing you writhing underneath me is payment enough. All you have to do is ask.”

Of course he wouldn’t even take the decision away from Shiro and just take what he wanted. No; instead, he was going to make him beg for it.

Shiro didn’t want to say yes; in fact, he wanted anything but this. But then he thought about trying to survive the next few hours like this, wet and miserable and without relief, and as much as he hated Sendak, he was afraid that trying to survive the heat on his own might not end well.

Shiro lowered his head in defeat. “Please,” he whispered, nearly imperceptible in the quiet.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Please!” he repeated, louder. “Please, help me. I can’t stand this anymore.”

“Finally, the champion has fallen.” Sendak chuckled, deep and dark, and then he pulled his finger out of Shiro and wiped it on his bodysuit before standing. He started walking away and Shiro panicked, his pride evaporating at the thought of losing his chance for relief.

“Wait!” he cried, reaching towards Sendak.

Sendak glanced at him but didn’t stop moving until he was at the door.

“Guards,” he barked. They snapped to attention, as if they hadn’t been listening that entire time. “You will not disturb me unless it is an emergency. Any guests, send them away. I will be dealing with the prisoner for some time. Alone.”

There was a distinct pause, and then the guard on the left spoke up. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sendak turned, approaching Shiro with a single-minded focus. “I hope you’re ready, champion.”

He hated that name, hated it with every fiber of his being.

“My name is Shiro,” he said defiantly, picking up the pitiful scraps of his remaining dignity. “Don’t call me champion.”

Sendak grunted something that could have implied agreement, but Shiro lost his clutches on coherent thought when he felt Sendak press two fingers into his ass, pushing them as far as they would go.

Shiro shuddered, moaning into his forearm, gushing hotly in the wake of Sendak’s torment.

“Ah.” He ran his thumb along Shiro’s inner thigh, spreading the liquid as it dribbled down his skin. “This is where the scent smells strongest. I presume this is where I enter you.”

Shiro nodded wordlessly.

There was the sound of rustling, and then he heard the metal clank of heavy equipment falling to the ground. Shiro almost opened his mouth to question Sendak’s willingness to make himself vulnerable, but thought better of it. He was just glad, relieved as he felt hands grip him by his hips, positioning him. Then Sendak’s fingers snuck into his hair, yanking his head backwards, and he felt it.

He was big. Bigger than any toy Shiro had used.

From his position against the floor he couldn’t see what it looked like, but he could feel the small ridges running along the length of Sendak’s sex as he slid it between Shiro’s cheeks. He jerked when he felt another thick object brush against his inner thigh, quickly coming to the realization that it wasn’t Sendak’s hand. Then there was another on his right asscheek. Startled, Shiro craned his neck to look underneath him, and his breath caught.

Bearing a shape that was similar to tentacles, the three appendages protruding from Sendak’s body appeared to be a part of his genitalia; like that of a cock and balls, but the cock had been replaced with a bigger, thicker appendage that was lightly furred. It was mirrored by two smaller tendrils, writhing freely.

Shivers crawled up his back as Sendak position himself, pressing the round tip of his sex against Shiro’s ass. He was still tense, fingers white against the floor, unsure whether or not he could actually take Sendak’s dick. He opened his mouth to caution him, but all of Shiro’s remaining resistance suddenly melted away when Sendak pushed inside him.

Not only was he big, but he was too big. Even though his body went forcibly limp, trying to accommodate his girth, Shiro felt like he was being split apart. He screamed into his arm, spreading his legs as far as they’d go and bearing down.

Sendak never erred, sliding inside Shiro inch by painful inch, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it, he bottomed out, lodging fully inside.

It hurt like hell. There were wet tears clinging to Shiro eyelashes, but his body was responding pressing back, eagerly urging Sendak deeper.

“You feel—marvelous, for an Earth-creature,” Sendak hissed. “Your body is soft and pliant. Are all humans this receptive?”

Shiro moaned in response. Aside from the pain, he felt full and sated, completely owned by Sendak. He shouldn’t have loved the feeling of fingers in his hair, claws scraping against his skull, but as Sendak pulled him up and thrust, he shuddered, tingling pleasure erupting inside him. His hips moving on their own, body trying desperately to squeeze down and urge Sendak’s massive sex deeper.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He’d barely moved, but when he felt the tip of Sendak’s dick press against the tight knot of his core, he cried out, body seizing and his cock twitching weakly. As if noticing his reaction, Sendak he pulled out and repeated the motion, quickly working up an incredible speed.

Sendak’s following thrusts were brutal, relentless, animalistic. He didn’t let up for even a second; Shiro was helpless, bracing his hands on the floor just to keep himself from tipping over.

It felt so, so good.

He’d never had sex with an alpha before, but if it was anything like this, he’d been missing out.

Within minutes, Shiro went wire-tight, shuddering through his second internal orgasm. Sendak slowed for a beat, but only so he could grip Shiro by his chin and turn his head, forcing him to look at Sendak.

“What do you need?” he growled, his breathing coming out in hot puffs. He towered over Shiro, so much bigger than any alpha he’d ever seen. “Is this all you desire?”

“I need—“ Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed as Sendak slammed into him, then worked his sex into Shiro in a slow, rolling grind. “Oh, god, deeper. Yes, yes.” Shiro scraped his fingers over the floor, trying desperately to work his ass against the intrusion from his position.

“I will not repeat myself again,” Sendak barked.

Shiro tried to recall what he’d said. His mind felt fuzzy, lost against the ferocity of his own need.

“I’m sorry, I can’t—”

“What. Do. You. Need,” Sendak said, puncturing each words with a thrust of his hips.

“I need you to knot me,” Shiro blurted. “Probably don’t have knots. Just stay inside me even after you come. With omegas, we—”

“You do not get to order me around,” Sendak said, gripping Shiro harshly by his hips. “Explain this ‘knot’.”

He gave Shiro a series of sharp, brutal thrusts, hovering above him, growling and exhibiting a possessiveness that made Shiro’s mind go blank. He didn’t think it was possible to come untouched a third time, but Sendak was thick all over, and he kept brushing Shiro’s prostate with precision, the ridges scraping his insides and sending Shiro’s nerves into overdrive.

“It’s—fuck, it’s, it’s when the base of an alpha’s penis inflates. It’s like a, ah, a plug. Keeps us sated, full.”

The sound of his own voice, loud and needy, shocked him, but he’d long given up on concealing his voice or his moans, and he didn’t doubt that his screams could be heard all the way down the hall. Shiro didn’t care; he didn’t care about any of that. He wanted— needed —Sendak to come inside him, to knot him.

When he finally did, it was like nothing Shiro expected.

There was no knot, but he thrusts inside until his pelvis was pressed against Shiro’s ass, stretching him past the point of pleasure. Shiro wasn’t certain how this was going to convince his body that he was knotted, but then the two thick tendrils that had remained curled around his thighs slid towards his ass. They started prodding and prying at his rim, trying to force their way inside him.

He gasped, squirming, stretched past the point of discomfort. Pain ricocheted up his spine, and Shiro was about to cry out for him to stop, but when Sendak managed to force one of them in, Shiro felt something else inside him—something indescribable but distinctly instinctual— ease.

He went limp just as Sendak started to come, and there was so, so much of it. Shiro couldn’t stop shifting as Sendak came and came, filling him until Shiro felt like he’d burst. He was so full, absolutely stuffed by Sendak’s cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, hands scraping weakly against the hard floor. “God, that was—no!” Sendak started moving backwards, pulling away and Shiro clenched down, reaching behind him blindly. “Don’t move, please, please don’t move.”

“Why.”

“My body thinks it’s knotted. If you pull out, I—I don’t know what could happen.”

Sendak sighed, then trailed his finger down the back of Shiro’s sweat-soaked shirt. “How long.”

“It…depends.”

He let out a sound to indicate his displeasure. “And how long does this last in its entirety?”

Shiro was silent.

“Champion—or should I call you ‘Shiro’?—tell me how long you expect me to stay in this grimy cell.”

“I don’t know, okay? Sometimes it’s just a day, but then other times, it can be multiple. I’m in a stressful environment, so I just don’t know.”

The hands were back in his hair again, and Shiro’s vision blurred as Sendak tugged at his hair, bending him over backwards. He ground his cock into Shiro, drawing another moan of out him.

“I don’t have all day to play house with you, champion,” he spat. “I would leave you here, but your scent has truly reached its height. I imagine that half out of the ship can smell you now. What others do you suppose share an interest in you, hm?”

“I—” Shiro’s mouth was dry at the prospect of being abandoned at his most vulnerable hour. “Please.” He hated begging, hated it, but he hated the thought of being alone even more. “Don’t leave. Just for a while longer—”

Sendak laughed, his voice reverberating in the quiet cell. “Perhaps I will take you in, only because I find your pathetic need amusing. Once you have finished with your ‘knotting’, I will bring you back to my quarters.”

“What?” Shiro’s mind went blank. Quarters? He’d barely seen the outside of his cell, and Sendak wanted to take him to his room? Was he living in an alternate universe?

“I will not repeat myself.” His claws threatened Shiro, but instead of feeling threatened, he felt his cock twitch.

He was immediately disgusted with himself.

After another ten minutes, Shiro nodded at Sendak, indicating that he could pull out, and when he did, Shiro felt deeply bereft, immediately turning around to paw at Sendak like a man possessed. Sendak wasn’t nearly as affected by the heat of his fever, and gathered himself, putting on his armor and accessories before he scooped Shiro into his arms.

“Guards, you will not speak a word of this,” he hissed at the door. They nodded, well aware of the reality of Sendak’s threats. “You there, on the right.”

“Yes, Sendak, sir.”

“You will bring the nourishment supplements to my quarters. Then you will leave, and continue to guard this cell.”

“What if…one of the druids come by?” the other spoke up timidly.

Shiro wound himself tighter around Sendak, whimpering.

Sendak grinned, slow and dark. “I’m certain you’ll think of something.”

They left without another word.

Shiro was being carried like he weighed nothing, cradling in Sendak’s large arms, and even though Shiro knew he should be looking around and attempting to remember the layout of this ship, his mind kept slipping, thoughts of relief and Sendak’s scent all-encompassing.

As they moved, Shiro could feel Sendak’s come leaking out of him, mixing with the slick that he was producing. He shivered, burying his face in Sendak’s throat while his fingers pried absently at his armor. He knew he’d have relief soon, but he couldn’t stop himself; he needed it now.

Sendak waited until the door was fully shut behind them before tossing Shiro onto the large bed, claws immediately reaching to pry off his armor. Shiro took little notice of his surroundings, preoccupied with crawled to the edge of the bed to reach for Sendak.

The way that Sendak’s eyes followed him showed that he wasn’t the only one affected by this ordeal.

Sendak crawled over top of him, urging Shiro’s thighs apart, and he lost all sense of time.

Sendak’s endless stamina was a relief for both of them. Most of the time Shiro preferred to be on his hands and knees taking it from behind, but he soon found that Sendak liked have him in his lap, bouncing on his cock while his hands roamed freely over his body.

“What would your friends think to see you like this?” he murmured, dragging a claw across Shiro’s nipple. He jerked, legs trembling to hold himself upright. “I’ve never met a being that could keep up with my stamina before.”

He didn’t have a response to Sendak’s question, his thoughts consumed by being impaled by his length. Positioned like this, with warm, large hands running along his chest, stomach, and hips, his cock trapped between their bodies, Shiro was in bliss.

Sendak nipped lightly at his shoulder. Shiro exposed his throat, instinct urging him to encourage the alpha to bite. He could feel every inch of Sendak every time he plunged down onto his dick, the small ridges rubbing all the sensitive nerves inside of him until he was squirming, caught between the urge to stay exactly where he was or fuck himself harder.

Sendak made the decision for him, gripping his hips and fucking up into Shiro until he all he could do was cry out his name over and over, hiccupping moans drowned out by the sound of Sendak growling in his ear.

As his heat started to wind down, and when the need to hop onto Sendak’s dick had lessened, Shiro fell asleep. He curled into a ball and buried his nose in the soft sheets, too tired to do much else.

He slept better than he had in weeks, but there was still a sense of unease burning inside him. The omega part of him felt like something was missing. Instinct encouraged him to bond with a potential mate, and he wanted to be bonded more than anything, but with a man—an alien— like Sendak, he knew it was impossible.

At least, that was what he’d thought.

When Shiro woke from his nap, Sendak was already climbing overtop him, rubbing the wet tip of his sex against Shiro’s hole. He groaned, pressing his face into the sheets as Sendak moved his hands on either side of Shiro and started thrusting. Shiro reached around and spread himself wide, trying to urge him in deeper.

Sendak leaned down, scraping his teeth against Shiro’s shoulder, and he exposed his throat again. This time, instead of ignoring it, Sendak bent forward and bit at the spot on the base of his neck, sending hot shivers rippling through Shiro.

“You continue to expose this particular vulnerability to me. Explain,” he demanded, slowing his pace until he was only half buried inside Shiro.

“Bonding,” Shiro gasped, half of his mind with need. He grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to collect his thoughts. “Normally an alpha and omega couple bond. It’s—” he tried to think of a viable explanation, “—like a spiritual connection.”

Sendak inched inside him, bringing his arms around Shiro’s waist and pulling him half upright.

“How is this bond initiated?”

“You have to be an alpha. The, the alpha bites the base of the throat during a knotting and then that’s it.”

“I see.”

Sendak said little else for the next half hour, but he increased his efforts, laying Shiro down and hiking his leg against his chest, giving him the leverage needed to penetrate him a deep angle. Shiro keened, fingers scrambled for purchase, chest heaving, and when he came, Sendak was leaning over before Shiro had even realized what was happening.

He bit down onto the base of Shiro’s neck, hard.

Pain exploded, flaring along his neck and shoulders as Sendak buried his teeth into his skin. Shiro screamed, catapulting into orgasm.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but he felt—something. He stayed still, instinct urging him not to break a newly forming bond. Sendak’s breath was hot on his neck, and then—

It was happening. He could feel the bond forming, reaching, trying to but not quite making it to completion. His pleasure reached new heights; his skin felt like it was on fire. If only he could complete it, if only—

Then he came to his senses.

“Wh-why did you do that?!” Shiro snapped, hot with anger. “I said you couldn’t bond with me! Fuck, fuck, I’m bleeding.”

“Calm down, champion,” Sendak rumbled. “I was only claiming what was mine. If you expect to survive on this ship, you will need me around to protect you.”

“I can protect myself. I shouldn’t even be on this ship. You just want to control me, just like everyone else!”

“You claimed it wouldn’t work.”

“That doesn’t mean you should try it!” he tried to pull away, but Sendak wasn’t finished inside him, and Shiro was still on the cusp of his heat. He started moving, and Shiro bit back a groan, his concerns starting to fade.

“This isn’t over,” he said, clawing at the sheets.

After another round, the exhausted Shiro fell into another, even deeper sleep.

As much as his mind protested their involvement, his body had relaxed considerably knowing that he’d been bonded. He felt safe and warm for the first time since he’d arrived on Zarkon’s ship, floating on a post-bonding cloud and his own hormones.

Shiro felt so good that when he woke up, for a split second, he almost expected to be back at home, as if it had been all one horrible dream. The sheets under his fingers were soft, but strangely textured, much like the ones at the garrison, and the dark color of the comforter almost looked like his own.

For a moment, he felt so happy that he thought he might cry.

Then he sensed movement behind him. His nails skidded over Shiro’s hip, his thigh moving to part Shiro’s legs from behind. It was Sendak. He was shifting in his sleep, pressed up against Shiro’s back, hot breath ghosting across Shiro’s nape.

His heart sank.

I’ll probably never see Earth again.

Blinking away the remnants of his sleep, Shiro craned his neck to look behind him. Sendak wasn’t very attractive, as far as human standards went, but Shiro hadn’t really been concerned with any possible mates until Sendak forced him into the bond.

God, what a mess.

He scrubbed his fingers over his face. At least being with an alien meant he wouldn’t get pregnant.

“You’re awake,” Sendak said, his voice low and gravelly. Shiro tensed.

“I, yeah,” he said lamely. “I think it’s over.” He paused, rubbing awkwardly at his shoulder where the fresh wound of the bondmark lay. It stung. He felt reluctant to be free of Sendak’s grasp, which only made him want to leave even more. “I should probably get back to my cell before someone notices.”

“Not so fast, champion.”

“Stop calling me that. It’s Shiro.”

“Shiro,” Sendak drawled. “When is your next cycle?”

Shiro went still.

“You need me now, as my—what was it?” he paused. “As, yes. My omega. Your heats will only be shared with me; unless of course you’d prefer something else.”

Shiro didn’t want to agree, but what choice did he have? It was either with his half-baked bondmate, or…something else. Something worse.

“Okay,” he said miserably. “They happen eight or nine times a year usually. I don’t know what kind of time standards you guys use, but Earth orbits its star once every year, and there are twelve months in a year. So about every month and a half, give or take.”

“Fascinating.” He moved away, heaving his body over the side of the bed. “I’ll make note of it. I was in the middle of important business when you,” he paused for a beat, “distracted me. Once you have cleaned yourself, I will call an escort for you.”

Sendak was covered in just as many fluids as Shiro, but seemed unconcerned, walking confidently over to a large door on the right side of the room.

“The shower will not take long. Hurry up.”

“You’re not leaving?” Shiro asked, feeling slow and stupid in the post-heat and bond stage.

“Of course not.” Sendak scoffed. “Leave you alone in my quarters? You have fifty ticks to shower. Go.”

Shiro didn’t know what a tick was, but he heard it used quite often. He suspected it was some type of time-keeping measure. He hopped out of bed and into the strange shower, staring the various levers in confusion until he heard Sendak sigh loudly from outside the bathroom.

“Must I do everything?” He stormed into the small space, bodily moving Shiro into the corner before he twisted a few levers, inputting a series of buttons. There was a high-pitched sound, and then Shiro felt the air around him begin to vibrate.

“Whoa,” he breathed, watching as the dirt and grime were all but evaporated from his body. He glanced at Sendak, who received a similar treatment. “I know sonic showers exist on Earth, but they’re not common practice. This is amazing. How does this work?”

“We do not have time for your curiosity,” Sendak replied, shutting off the shower once he was clean. “You lack clothing, but once in your cell, tell the guard that I visited and you will have another pair sent to you.”

“So I’m just supposed to wander around naked until then,” Shiro said, incredulous.

Sendak raised a brow. “Correct.”

“Great. Thanks.” Frustration and a multitude of emotions welled inside Shiro. He bit his lip, struggling to contain himself. He’d been strong so far, but it was getting harder to take it all in stride.

How had a mission to collect some evidence off of a planet gone so wrong?

“You are upset,” Sendak observed calmly.

“I’m not,” Shiro croaked, blinking back tears. “I’m angry. I want to be home, back on my planet. Back on Earth.”

“You are Zarkon’s prisoner now. You should get used to it,” he said harshly. “There is no escape.”

“Who is Zarkon? What does he want with us?”

“You will find out soon, I’m sure.” Sendak smirked. “All you need to know is that Zarkon will one day rule the entire universe, including your puny planet. You are lucky to be here. Alive.”

Shiro clenched his fists, anger forming words on his tongue that he didn’t dare speak.

“Just send me back,” he grit out. Sendak took him by the arm and called a nearby guard at the door.

“Take the champion back to his cell,” he ordered, lips lifting into a smirk. “He needs his rest.”

The guard saluted, eyes never leaving Sendak. Once he was out of range, though, the guard gave Shiro an obvious once-over, taking in his naked form with barely contained malicious glee.

“Follow me,” he said, on the verge of laughter. Shiro closed his eyes, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and then followed. There were jeers from his fellow prisoners, and more than a few pitying looks. It occurred to him that he probably wasn’t the first person to go through something like this, and it only made him feel worse.

The guard stopped in front of his cell, motioning for the two standing there to open the door. As he stepped inside, they said something about getting him new clothing, but all Shiro could think about was sleeping.

There was something comforting about the quiet of his cell. It was his, and even if he was prisoner, at least this was the one place he could count on being alone.

He crawled to the back of the cell, curled up into a ball, and then let out one quiet, heaving sob, burying his face in his hands.

ONE MONTH AGO

Ever since Shiro had escaped from the ship, he’d felt…off.

His body was in top form, and his mental health was decent for the time being, but healing from an unfinished bond made him feel tired and lethargic. The mark that Sendak had left ached fiercely from time to time.

The bond had been the one thing that he remembered when he came to back on Earth.

Everything had been chaos when he’d arrived. People were touching him and probing at him, talking in ways he hadn’t understood. Images had flashed in front of him; faces, indistinct yet terrifying. He’d screamed and yelled, urged the scientists to listen to him, trying to make them understand, but then something pricked his arm, and everything went quiet.

He was floating.

He felt the vague impressions of hands running over his body. Voices echoing. Something pressed at the back of his mind. Another face; a memory.

Sendak. Who was Sendak?

He tried to reach for him, desperate for help—for anything—but every time he tried he reached out, the images slipped just out of his grasp, watery and unclear. The mark on his throat began to burn.

Later, as his memories slowly came back, Sendak was first. He remembered of all it—every conversation, every word.

The others didn’t know, and he didn’t want them to know. Shiro could tell that Keith suspected something, but never he asked, and Shiro never offered. He was ashamed of what kind of person he’d become; how much he missed Sendak, how he’d do anything to feel his warmth again.

Shiro knew very little about the ins and outs of ayo relationships. Being away from his ‘alpha’ was torture enough, but he hadn’t realized that this would extend to his heats until much later.

He had his first heat months after starting on his journey with Allura and the paladins, which was worrying in itself. A part of him was relieved he didn’t have to deal with it, but the other, larger part was alarmed by the development. He was concerned that it would hit him at an inopportune moment during a mission, or worse.

Thankfully, it happened on the ship.

He was training Hunk—an alpha—when he felt the first signs. For all that Hunk was naturally built, he wasn’t a marksman by any means, and he was hell-bent on using his bayard in a more efficient manner. Shiro, being the leader, offered to help him train.

Scents mixing was bound to happen in close quarters, but that day, it was different. Shiro could smell everyone a mile away—especially Hunk. And as they fought, it became more and more apparent that something else was going on.

It wasn’t until he felt his belly swoop out from underneath him that he realized what was happening.

Oh, fuck. Idiot.

“Hunk!” he called, lowering his bionic arm. “Sorry, I just realized that I forgot something. I have to go, okay?”

“All right.” Hunk frowned. Shiro was starting to sweat; he just hoped Hunk couldn’t smell him yet. “You do you, Shiro. I’ll tell the others not to wait up.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, putting on a brave smile. He patted Hunk on the shoulder before he left, keeping up a normal pace until he was just out of the sight. Then he moved into a sprint, making a mad dash for his room as the cramps started to hit.

The following days were torture.

Shiro was desperate, out of his mind. He’d had a steady partner for the months he was on Zarkon’s ship, but now that he was alone, his body worked ten times as hard. Writhing on his bed, he thrust his fingers inside himself, imagining Sendak behind him, his claws scraping delicately across his skin just the way he liked it. His breath against his ear, fur tickling his back.

He hated himself for wanting him, missing him. He tried to put him out of his mind, but thoughts of Sendak eased the ache the slightest bit, and he would take anything— anything, to feel better, to feel full.

Shiro was just glad that the rooms were soundproof; he didn’t want anyone hearing his screams.

When it was over, he just felt drained. Exhaustion threatened to pull him under, but the paladins were expecting him back in action and he couldn’t let them down.

Shiro took a long, hot shower, trying to scrub away his lingering feelings for Sendak. On his way out of the bathroom, he caught his own reflection in the mirror and winced. There were deep, dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks were surprisingly sunken.

Congratulations, you look like shit.

“No kidding,” he muttered, heaving a sigh. Back to work.

From then on, he was in a constant state of malcontent, trying to keep the pep in his step while his body ached for his bondmate and he struggled to deal with his trauma.

Shiro could at least comfort himself in the knowledge that the bond would eventually fade, even if he sometimes felt like ripping out his hair.

Or it would have, if the unbelievable hadn’t happened.

Sendak returned.

It happened soon after they blew up the ship’s crystal. The paladins had split up and it was Shiro’s job to find some help. He had Lance thrown over his shoulder and he was exiting the castle when he saw lights coming from the distance. Then the mark started burning, and he knew.

His scent still smelled the same after all this time, and the bondmark on Shiro’s neck throbbed painfully, aching for completion, for his alpha. He set Lance down, and then he was off like a shot, approaching Sendak and his army.

“Stand aside,” Sendak said calmly.

Shiro slapped his left hand over the throbbing mark, gritting his teeth in pain. “No.” Then he activated his weaponized arm, its glow bringing a smile to Sendak’s face. “You’re not getting in, Sendak!”

“Yes, Shiro,” he said, swinging his own bionic arm in front of him, “I am.”

Shiro stared at the attachment. He had always been envious of Sendak’s ability to treat it like an extension of himself. It was something Shiro had struggled with for months, sobbing in his cell and his arm throbbed late into the night.

Sendak had been gentle during those times.

Shiro hated himself for remembering it. He hated that he remembered its girth and weight against his body. Out of all the times they’d fucked, he’d only used it twice. Shiro still had scars.

“It’s too bad you didn’t get the latest upgrade,” Sendak said, lips parting in a ferocious grin. He came at Shiro without mercy, and as they fought, dancing around each other until one of them struck, adrenaline pumping, fueling their battle.

They weren’t evenly matched by any means. Sendak was stronger and more adept, but Shiro was fast, and he knew enough from training with the druids and fighting in the area that he felt fairly confident of his own abilities.

Then he noticed something strange. It was just a moment here, a quick strike there, but sometimes he swore that Sendak was holding back.

His suspicions weren’t confirmed until Sendak’s sharp nails were threatening his throat, inches from the main artery. Shiro mirrored his position, the thrum of his arm and the rapid beat of his heart making him feel dizzy. His foot slipped and he faltered, shifting an inch forward, and Sendak—Sendak followed the movement, saving him from being punctured by his claws.

He could have killed him—he should have, but he didn’t.

Shiro opened his mouth, but before he could offer up his question, Sendak’s second in command dropped the unconscious Lance at his feet.

A week later found Shiro standing in front of Sendak, only now the tables were turned.

He was the prisoner and Shiro was the one holding him hostage. Well, technically it was Allura holding him hostage, but Shiro holding him there by proxy.

He’d been staring at the tube containing Sendak for hours, trying to force him to reveal his memories. They should have been extracted by now, but somehow, he was resisting.

“How did you know where to find us?” Shiro barked, crossing his arms. The memory bank remained unchanged.

He swore. His frustrations were beginning to build, adding onto his plate that was piled high enough already.

Truth be told, he was glad the other paladins weren’t around. If his memories had started displaying themselves, and they looked through Shiro’s time on the Galra ship? Well, they would see how he’d been dealing with his heats all that time.

“What was the first rank you held in Zarkon’s army?” he tried instead, going for a different approach.

Nothing.

“Where did you find the red lion?”

Again, nothing.

“What is Zarkon’s greatest weakness?”

What makes you think you could possibly defeat him, came Sendak’s disembodied voice. It echoed loudly around him, lacking any distinct source.

“What the—?” Shiro gasped, going rigid with fright. He looked around, trying to find the source, but the hallway was quiet. Shiro pressed his palm to his chest and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. There was nothing to be afraid of; Sendak was still in the tube.

“If…if you were to attack Zarkon, where would you strike?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Sendak’s voice sounded, louder than before.

Why strike at all, he said, the sultry roll of his voice echoing right inside Shiro’s skull, when you can join him?

Shiro stumbled backwards, searching frantically now. What the hell was going on? There was nothing, nothing around him that could possibly be causing this.

“H-how is this—how are you—?”

Sendak’s face appeared in Shiro’s mind, the familiar grin threatening to unwind the tenuous thread holding his sanity together.

“How are you doing this?” he shouted, taking a step back. And then another. “You’re supposed to be asleep!”

How do you think, my omega?

“I am not your—“ he swallowed. “Stop this. Right now. Tell me what I want to know. How did you find us? How did you find me?”

I followed the trail.

“What trail,” Shiro hissed. “Stop playing games! You couldn’t possibly have smelled me that far away.”

It’s more than that, Shiro. You of all people should know this.

“No,” he whispered, horror leaking into his veins and turning them to ice. “No, it’s not—it’s not possible!”

Some claimed that an incomplete bond would try and urge the couple to finish the job. This included heightened senses, sickness, and sometimes in rare cases, the affected party could sense the other from afar, essentially tracking them.

We’re connected, you and me. Both, part of the Galra Empire. Both bondmates.

“No,” Shiro denied, voice cracking. He shook his head. “No, I’m not like you. I left you, I escaped.”

You’ve been broken, and reformed. By Zarkon. By me. Just look at your hand. Look at your neck. You can feel the mark, can’t you? Well so can I.

“That’s not me. This is—not me. I’m not your prisoner any longer.”

They’re the strongest parts of you. Embrace it, Shiro. The others don’t know, do they? They don’t know what you know; haven’t seen what you’ve seen. What we did.

“I—” Saliva filled his mouth. He struggled to swallow.

Face it, you’ll never beat Zarkon. You’ll never escape that mark on your neck; you’ll never escape me.

There was the sound of laughter, echoing so loud that Shiro clapped his hands over his ears. He couldn’t breathe.

“I’m—I’m not listening to you!”

He’d faced unimaginable torture when the druids saw to him, but the worst part of it had been the arena. God, the things he’d seen; the things he’d done. He hadn’t wanted to do those things. He’d had no choice! If he ever wanted to save his friends, he had to survive. He had to—

Do you really think a monster like you could be a Voltron paladin?” He sounded so close, so close that Shiro could nearly smell him.

“STOP IT!” he screamed, his fist connecting with the glass of the pod.

Then there was silence, unbroken but for the sound of his own breathing, quick and unsteady.

When he looked up, he saw Sendak’s face grinning at him.

Shiro moved on pure instinct alone. He raised his hand, slamming onto the pod’s ‘eject’ panel.

Sendak’s pod slid down and out into space, leaving Shiro panting alone in the hallway. He cradled his arms against his chest and slipped to the floor, remaining in the same position long before the paladins found him.

NOW

Unfortunately for Shiro, aside from the planet that Sendak was on, there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. The nearby asteroids offered some respite, but after a few hours of flying around aimlessly, he realized that he was stuck.

He couldn’t hope to travel at the same speed as Allura’s vessel, and without the lion’s guidance, he couldn’t use a wormhole without risking the chance that he might be sent somewhere even more unfavorable.

“Come on, buddy,” Shiro said, stroking the smooth surface around the controls. “Take me out of here. I know that you can do it. Find Allura. Find Coran. Find anyone. Please.”

The lion was silent.

Deep down, Shiro knew that the lion would only assert itself when it thought he was in real need of assistance. Why it didn’t think going to a planet where Sendak was holding ground indicated danger was beyond Shiro’s understanding, but one thing he did understand was that he’d been lucky to find a planet so much like Earth; he knew he couldn’t waste it.

He understood what the lion was telling him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He flew around for another few hours, hesitant to send out signals and alert Zarkon’s forces, but also worried that his friends might be trying to reach him. It was when he started to feel his eyes sliding closed that he realized he’d been up for many hours now, preoccupied by dealing with his mistake, trying to rescue Allura, and then dealing with… this. He was well and truly exhausted.

“Guess there’s no helping it,” he mumbled, turning back towards the planet.

Shiro landed his lion not too far from where he’d found Sendak. A cursory glance of the area from above showed that he was still by his pod, crouched over the ground. Steeling his reserve, Shiro stepped away from his lion and approached.

“Sendak!” he called when he was only a few feet away. Sendak stood from where he’d been crouched, looking unbearably smug for someone who’d been stranded on an alien planet without the use of one of his arms.

“So, my omega decided to come back with his tail tucked between his legs. Since you have returned, I presume this is not a routine mission.”

Shiro clenched his fists. “I am not your omega,” he said through gritted teeth, red blurring the edges of his vision.

“You’re still fragile,” Sendak purred, taking a step closer. Shiro took one back. “We were never able to complete the bond due to my nature, not being one of you, but I could feel you. I could feel you suffer.”

He was close enough now that Shiro could feel his breath on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, frozen, trying to deny what he’d been feeling.

“What do you care,” Shiro said waveringly. He put on a strong front, but Sendak’s scent was like a balm, and he’d been so long without an alpha. “You were the cause of my suffering—and anyway. Watch your back. I’d capture you if I could, but until my team gets here, there’s really no point.”

“So you’re separated from your merry band of paladins. How sad.”

“It’s Zarkon’s fault that we got separated in the first place,” he spat.

“Didn’t I already tell you? You have no chance of defeating him.”

“So it was you. Before.” Shiro blinked, relief flooding him. He hadn’t been crazy. He narrowed his eyes. “How did you do that? How did you talk inside my head?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Sendak said, examining the claws on his remaining hand. “When I was in the pod, I could hear your voice, but I could not respond. Once I discovered how, it was remarkably easy to shake the crumbling foundations of your connection to these,” his lips curled, “ paladins. You don’t belong with them, Shiro. You would serve well in Zarkon’s army.”

“I’d rather die,” Shiro said sharply. “Why are you still defending him? You’re stranded with one arm on a random planet with no hope of rescue.”

“Where I am has no bearing on Zarkon’s ability to win. And he will win,” Sendak said. “Your separation is proof enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if Zarkon found you and your lion before your friends.”

“My friends are going to find me. They’re looking for me right now.”

“We’re in the Sega quadrant, Shiro. It’s notorious for lost ships never finding their way home. Do you really think they’ll ever find you here?”

“I do,” he said, trying his hardest to believe it. “Look, what you think doesn’t matter. You can’t control me anymore. I’m done with you, and I’m done with our past.”

“Oh, Shiro, was I anything but kind to you? You don’t belong with them; you belong with me.”

“I was your prisoner!” Shiro shouted, spreading his arm wide. “I may as well have been your pet! I know how you really feel about me. You abandoned me once you were done with me, and now that you’ve been abandoned, you just want me back so you can have a toy to play with again.”

“Don’t presume how I feel,” Sendak hissed, suddenly inches away from Shiro. He gripped him by his chin, his claws digging into Shiro’s skin. “I made you mine when no one else would. I felt you across the galaxy, needing me, begging for my aid. If you had reached out to me, I would have come in an instant.”

“Wh-what? No!” Shiro tore himself out of his grasp. “I don’t need you. You’re Galra; you’re the enemy. I only came here to tell you to stay away from me. I don’t want to look at your face while I’m stuck here.”

“You will regret this,” Sendak said, his voice a dark rumble. Shiro felt a shiver work through him at the sound. “You will come back to me.”

“The only thing I regret is thinking that—” that you cared about me. He stopped, biting his lip until it ached. “Just leave me alone, Sendak.”

Shiro didn’t wait to hear his response before he started walking away. A part of him expected Sendak to follow him, but when he glanced behind him, he was still standing in the same spot, the expression on his face inscrutable.

Back at his lion, Shiro climbed inside the cockpit and flew it some ways away, returning to the beach he’s originally landed on. He got out of his lion and plopped down onto the sand, pulling his knees against his chest.

Why does this have to happen to me? First, I spend a year on an alien ship, then I return to Earth for a split second before another alien ship takes me on a universal quest. And now I’m stranded here. With him.

He was tired. So, so tired. Tired of being taken prisoner, tired of being expected to do great things when all he wanted to do at this point was go home. Things had been so hectic that Shiro didn’t even have time to think about his friends back at the garrison.

“They all think I’m dead,” he mumbled to himself, tracing senseless patterns in the sand with his fingertips.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten all day, and it was about to get dark. He’d dropped fruit that he’d picked earlier when he’d run away from Sendak, so he was starving. He needed to get moving if he wanted to survive.

First, he needed to know if it was safe to breathe. Sendak hadn’t been wearing a helmet, so it couldn’t be completely harmful.

He sighed. “There’s one way to find out.”

Praying that his own foolishness wouldn’t send him to an early death, he carefully took off his helmet, holding his breath. When he didn’t spontaneously combust, he dared to exhale. Then inhale.

He was alive—for now. That was better than nothing.

“Okay. Good.” He shoved his helmet under his arm. “Great.”

With that squared away, now he needed to find a clean source of water. There was no telling what kind of bacteria might be on this planet, so he needed to boil it before he started drinking. The river in front of him held what looked like ocean life, but he wasn’t certain.

Shiro stood, glancing at the sky to try and gauge when this sun would set. It was falling fast. He probably had about an hour of daylight left.

Collecting water turned out to be more difficult than he anticipated. He munched on the low hanging fruit as he searched for a spring of some sort, but searching in low light was difficult. He stopped once he couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him anymore, returning to his lion.

Thankfully, with the aid of said lion, he didn’t have a need for shelter.

“I’m trusting you to protect me,” he told the black lion.

It didn’t reply, which Shiro had been expecting. He patted the metal and then settled down in the cockpit, doing his best to sleep.

It wasn’t easy.

Shiro’s rare few hours of sleep were most often troubled by nightmares. A dark grin here, faces at him from above. Screams. Blood, so much blood; none of it his.

That night he managed a few scant hours of shut eye, but lay awake long before the sun rose over the horizon, casting the inside of his lion with morning light.

He sat up, deciding that there was no point in lazing about anymore. He still needed kindling, firewood, and mostly importantly: water.

The lion was in some kind of rest mode, its display lacking the many sensors that normally would decorate the screen. Shiro sat up and pressed a few buttons, trying in vain to read the information being displayed. Most of it in what was presumably Altean.

Coran had been spending his spare time teaching them the language, but its complexities were hard to grasp when they could only spare to review a few hours every couple of days.

Shiro sat back with a sigh. He’d been hoping that he could do some sort of scan of the environment. A robotic entity of this caliber had to have some kind of scanner, right?

Since Shiro had never thought that he’d get lost like this, he didn’t realize how much he’d regret not discovering more about the lion.

Your connection is weak.

Shiro shoved the thought out of his mind. He tentatively pressed a few more buttons, watching as the displays changed. It seemed like he was getting nowhere when suddenly, there was a low rumbling sound, almost like a…purr. Then, in the middle of the screen, an image popped up on the screen in front of him.

It was a map.

“So you can still hear me,” Shiro said, in awe.

An icon that he couldn’t read appeared in the middle of the screen, blinking. He pressed it.

The line of light pulsed outward from his position; scanning, he realized. After a few seconds, it beeped, and the image changed, small floating triangles pinpointing various positions on the map.

“Are those…water sources?”

He leaned forward. It looked like there were a few scattered nearby, and a couple larger bodies a few miles south of his position. One was near Sendak’s base, but he wasn’t about to go over there.

“Thank you,” he said, patting the arm of his seat. “I’m gonna go and do some more recon, then head for one of those water sources.”

When he stepped out of his lion, he was almost expecting to find Sendak there waiting for him, but the air was silent, the sand undisturbed from the night before.

Good, he thought, checking the immediate area just to be sure. Once he was certain that he was alone, Shiro picked a few pieces of fruit off of the tree for breakfast and then started heading south.

There were a variety of fauna and flora that Shiro didn’t recognize. The flowers had colors that didn’t exist on any Earth species he’d seen—and some of which he wasn’t entirely sure existed on Earth at all.

As a kid, this was what Shiro had imagined going to other planets would be like. He imagined himself trekking through dangerous jungles, forcing his way through alien lifeforms and saving the galaxy as some sort of space hero. That was the thing about being a kid: you dreamed, and you dreamed big.

He never imagined his dream becoming a reality.

“This is something else,” he muttered, touching the petals of a delicate, white flower. Streaks of deep, dark blue ran along the petal’s edges, and as it curled away from his touch, they formed a spiral.

He kept walking, traveling long after his suit was soaked in sweat, the armor digging into his skin. It was normally breathable and light, but he’d never worn it for this long, or in this kind of environment. He felt like his exposed skin was covered in a thick layer of grime, and he didn’t even want to look at himself in any kind of reflective surface.

He had hopes that he’d find a quiet spot to give himself a good wash.

Eventually, he did find such a spot, and as luck would have it, it looked like the water was fresh, too.

In the middle of a clearing was a crystal clear pool of water. Underneath the surface he could see underwater caverns leading the water away, likely taking them towards other pools scattered throughout the area.

He moved to step forward right as something flashed out of the corner of his eye.

Shiro froze. A massive serpentine creature slithered out from the brush and hovered over the water, gently lapping it into its mouth. It looked docile, but at its thickest point it was as broad as Shiro shoulders. If it was anything like the snakes back at home, he didn’t want to take the chance of being its lunch. He stepped away, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t make too much noise.

Once he was a safe distance away, he took a deep breath.

“Guess that was a bust.” He planted his hands on his hips, looking around. “Either I wait around for that thing to decide to eat me, or I keep going.”

He chose to keep going. However, after seeing the serpent, it seemed that Shiro’s good luck had run out. The further he delved into the jungle, the more wildlife that popped up. Most of it seemed harmless, but more than a quarter of the creatures he came across were big, hulking things that could probably snap Shiro in half in an instant.

He searched for hours, but in the end, he didn’t find a drinkable source of water that wasn’t surrounded by dangerous wildlife. He didn’t have the means to collect it, anyway.

He returned to his spot by the river-beach, and by that point, the sun was already started to dip in the sky.

“Great.” He sighed. Talking to himself didn’t exactly help, but it made him feel slightly less stir-crazy. “Have to find water tomorrow or I’ll be in big trouble. For now, maybe I’ll try boiling some of that river-ocean water, just to see what happens.” He directed his last thought at his lion, who stared above his head impassively.

Right. First I just need fire. Now how…exactly do I do that?

He was an experienced pilot and scientist, but he didn’t know much about surviving in the wild. On Earth, it had never really been an issue. Sure, he took a survival class or two back in the day, but he had forgotten nearly all of it. Most of what he recalled was knowledge from the reality shows that came on TV from time to time.

“I need tinder, and a small piece of wood.” He ticked off the ingredients on his fingers. “And some string. A vine, maybe?”

There were no vines available, and he wasn’t certain how it would hold up under pressure anyway. He did tear off some bark from the nearby trees, fashioning himself some makeshift string. He didn’t have a knife, but he did have his robotic arm, courtesy of the Galra Empire. It didn’t generate heat when he used it, but rather energy. He could probably harness it if he had the time, but for now, he was going to try it the old-fashioned way.

First, he broke a thick branch off of one of the trees. Then he activated the weapon, waiting until it was properly heated before he buried his thumb into the wood, carving out a small divot for the other stick he plucked.

“All right!” He smiled down at his creation, oddly proud of the simple achievement. “Now I just need to make fire. Should be easy enough.”

It wasn’t.

Shiro didn’t know if it was humid air, or something that he was lacking in, but after hours of twirling the stick to try and get an ember, he was starting to get tired. He kept at it even after the sun started to set, dusk settling in, casting shadows all over. Shiro was soaked in sweat, his suit sticking to him every time he moved.

Naturally, just as darkness hit, and it looked like smoke was starting to drift from the center of the piece of wood, it started to rain.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the ground, tossing his device aside. “I should be able to do this! I’m a paladin of Voltron, for fuck’s sake!”

The frustration bubbling inside him reached its boiling point. He let out a shout, then stood and approached his lion, storming inside. There he threw himself into his chair and took a deep breath, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor.

It took a while, but eventually his heartbeat slowed, the dull pitter-patter of rain sounding from outside the lion luring him into a sense a calm. He closed his eyes, breath evening out, and before he knew it, he was drifting off.