[ so then there was that time where keith and shiro stole a shuttle from the castle and went down to the surface of a galra controlled planet against allura’s orders, all because there’d been some sketchy rumors of other humans having been seen. allura declares it’s too risky to send the lions when they still can’t form voltron (Red and Black still have their days when they won’t move for lance and keith no matter what they try), and the others reluctantly agree that they can’t afford to lose anyone again by drawing galra attention. it took them six long months just to find each other across the far fucking regions of an unfriendly universe and they’ve all got scars to show for it. they can’t be careless with each other anymore, trusting to luck and the invincibility of youth.
keith does his best, of course, but he’s the one who wants shiro back the most. sometimes he clicks the way that shiro did effortlessly, knowing intuitively what the rest of them all need, but keith is still more used to locking himself down than reaching out. he and allura don’t always agree, and he and lance are… whatever they are now.
lance knew the minute that keith decided to go to the planet on his own. he’d felt it like it was his own thought, hot and guilty, and he didn’t look at keith and keith didn’t look at him, but keith wasn’t surprised at all when lance had shown up in the middle of the fucking night in the hangar with his gear stuffed in a go-bag and a deep scowl.
they’ve been in the palace now for two weeks. the guards have learned not to try and separate them and they fight their matches in the arena as a pair, efficient and deadly. lance had actually figured it out first that it’s more performance than combat skill that counts. fights that last too long become boring, fights that are over too quickly aren’t interesting. he and keith only move in sync when they’re fucking or fighting but when the connection flows between them it’s like the easiest thing in the world to know what keith knows and see what he sees, and even pull memories from their lions. shiro had fought in these kinds of matches. shiro had won these matches for a year. keith moves like him sometimes, forgetting he doesn’t have a cyborg arm, and lance has had to catch him before he shattered his hand.
lance has had to catch him a lot. In the cells at night they curl around each other, sometimes able to sink deep into each other’s heads and find some kind of peace pretending that they’re both other people. sometimes they just fuck furiously until they’re tired enough to sleep, and they don’t talk at all for fear of snapping at and turning on each other. everything in keith is still calling out for shiro, still holds out hope that they’re going to find him here among the prisoners, and his fucking faith is infectious, making lance want to hope, too.
what neither of them had known was that the gladiator matches weren’t the only things required of captives. the more they won they more attention they garnered, until some of the higher ranked galra asked for private shows that had nothing to do with combat. in this, too, they won’t perform without the other, even if one is kept chained in the background as a spectator while the other… serves. apparently it’s some kind of mark of distinction to have powerful or popular gladiators collared and leashed like pets to be admired and displayed. the galra find keith exotic and defiant so he’s the favorite, whereas lance doesn’t bare his teeth every time he’s touched. what they like to watch is lance making keith forget where they are, make him honest in his pleasure and vice versa. ]
> shklance????? lmao sex gladiators idk
keith does his best, of course, but he’s the one who wants shiro back the most. sometimes he clicks the way that shiro did effortlessly, knowing intuitively what the rest of them all need, but keith is still more used to locking himself down than reaching out. he and allura don’t always agree, and he and lance are… whatever they are now.
lance knew the minute that keith decided to go to the planet on his own. he’d felt it like it was his own thought, hot and guilty, and he didn’t look at keith and keith didn’t look at him, but keith wasn’t surprised at all when lance had shown up in the middle of the fucking night in the hangar with his gear stuffed in a go-bag and a deep scowl.
they’ve been in the palace now for two weeks. the guards have learned not to try and separate them and they fight their matches in the arena as a pair, efficient and deadly. lance had actually figured it out first that it’s more performance than combat skill that counts. fights that last too long become boring, fights that are over too quickly aren’t interesting. he and keith only move in sync when they’re fucking or fighting but when the connection flows between them it’s like the easiest thing in the world to know what keith knows and see what he sees, and even pull memories from their lions. shiro had fought in these kinds of matches. shiro had won these matches for a year. keith moves like him sometimes, forgetting he doesn’t have a cyborg arm, and lance has had to catch him before he shattered his hand.
lance has had to catch him a lot. In the cells at night they curl around each other, sometimes able to sink deep into each other’s heads and find some kind of peace pretending that they’re both other people. sometimes they just fuck furiously until they’re tired enough to sleep, and they don’t talk at all for fear of snapping at and turning on each other. everything in keith is still calling out for shiro, still holds out hope that they’re going to find him here among the prisoners, and his fucking faith is infectious, making lance want to hope, too.
what neither of them had known was that the gladiator matches weren’t the only things required of captives. the more they won they more attention they garnered, until some of the higher ranked galra asked for private shows that had nothing to do with combat. in this, too, they won’t perform without the other, even if one is kept chained in the background as a spectator while the other… serves. apparently it’s some kind of mark of distinction to have powerful or popular gladiators collared and leashed like pets to be admired and displayed. the galra find keith exotic and defiant so he’s the favorite, whereas lance doesn’t bare his teeth every time he’s touched. what they like to watch is lance making keith forget where they are, make him honest in his pleasure and vice versa. ]