[ It's always been overwhelming to have someone poking around in his head; it's been invasive, terrifying. Zarkon and Haggar don't bother to be kind about it; kindness is a weakness, and weakness will get you killed. Shiro's always been able to stand it where he can; either he got stronger and dealt with it, or he suffered for his weakness. That was the Galra way, he was told, and for someone not Galra, he did a very good job of fighting through it.
Keith isn't like that, though. He's not forcing his way through the cracks and barriers, trying to shove things into his head or take it out. It's easier than that, Keith downright gentle as he pushes the memories at Shiro for him to sort through. Memories of Lance and Keith together, but it's not their room. He has to pause to take it in, swallowing hard when he recognizes items without really knowing how. That's my bed- he thinks, and feels his stomach twist and flip in response. This is all wrong; it's not his bed, his bed is on the Galra cruiser.
Sucking in a tight breath, Shiro tips his head back, tries to put up the wall again, tries to shove them out but he can't. Keith's presence is like a set of hooks in his mind, holding tight, not letting go until he gets his way. Shiro can't fight it despite how badly he wants to.
Worse - or maybe better, he doesn't know, he can feel Lance there, too. The soft blue overlaying Keith's harsh red in his mind, halves of a whole that Shiro knows down to his bones even though he shouldn't.
Who are you is a mostly rhetorical question. They've told him who they are, he knows their names, but the fact that they were someone to him is too much to take. Attachments are weakness and weakness is weeded out. They're right; he can't let the Galra know that there's anything here, even if it's not real. Whether or not they're lying, it's a Galra test, they're simply a trick, Shiro doesn't know but there's this awful part of himself that screams at the idea of letting the Galra know, about turning them in. You have to keep them safe, it says, though he's clearly done a shit job of it so far.
Shaking his head, he drops his hands down to Lance's and curls a hand through his hair, tugging him up so his lips press against the fat swell of Shiro's cock, where Keith's fingers rest. A shudder goes through him; it's different than his own hand, it actually feels good, better than his time with the Galra. ]
You should fuck him.
[ He steamrolls right past Lance's demands, thumbing idly over his bottom lip, shiny with spit and precome from mouthing over Shiro's dick. The comment is directed at Keith, though his eyes slide down and focus on Lance, eyes dark, hair mussed from Shiro's hands. ]
Come here.
[ He wants to say he's taking control of the situation like he has to; the Galra answer. He wants to say that he's not letting this get to his head, that he's dedicated to the Galra empire and all it means but it's not that easy. Lance isn't as familiar in this, but that doesn't matter. He remembers Keith, both of them on their knees in front of each other, kissing and touching aimlessly, simply for the sake and appreciation of doing it. He remembers Lance, oddly quiet, coming to just sit with him after a particularly hard mission, remembers wrapping an arm around him and hugging him. All of these softer, quiet moments start flooding him from out of nowhere, like a crack in a dam that's suddenly split wider.
Shuddering, he holds onto Lance tighter, anchoring himself and then he looks at Keith and feels his heart jerk in his chest.
It's supposed to be a demand to get out of Shiro's head with this, to stop overwhelming him with it - it sounds more like a wrenched out plea, his throat tight. ]
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Keith isn't like that, though. He's not forcing his way through the cracks and barriers, trying to shove things into his head or take it out. It's easier than that, Keith downright gentle as he pushes the memories at Shiro for him to sort through. Memories of Lance and Keith together, but it's not their room. He has to pause to take it in, swallowing hard when he recognizes items without really knowing how. That's my bed- he thinks, and feels his stomach twist and flip in response. This is all wrong; it's not his bed, his bed is on the Galra cruiser.
Sucking in a tight breath, Shiro tips his head back, tries to put up the wall again, tries to shove them out but he can't. Keith's presence is like a set of hooks in his mind, holding tight, not letting go until he gets his way. Shiro can't fight it despite how badly he wants to.
Worse - or maybe better, he doesn't know, he can feel Lance there, too. The soft blue overlaying Keith's harsh red in his mind, halves of a whole that Shiro knows down to his bones even though he shouldn't.
Who are you is a mostly rhetorical question. They've told him who they are, he knows their names, but the fact that they were someone to him is too much to take. Attachments are weakness and weakness is weeded out. They're right; he can't let the Galra know that there's anything here, even if it's not real. Whether or not they're lying, it's a Galra test, they're simply a trick, Shiro doesn't know but there's this awful part of himself that screams at the idea of letting the Galra know, about turning them in. You have to keep them safe, it says, though he's clearly done a shit job of it so far.
Shaking his head, he drops his hands down to Lance's and curls a hand through his hair, tugging him up so his lips press against the fat swell of Shiro's cock, where Keith's fingers rest. A shudder goes through him; it's different than his own hand, it actually feels good, better than his time with the Galra. ]
You should fuck him.
[ He steamrolls right past Lance's demands, thumbing idly over his bottom lip, shiny with spit and precome from mouthing over Shiro's dick. The comment is directed at Keith, though his eyes slide down and focus on Lance, eyes dark, hair mussed from Shiro's hands. ]
Come here.
[ He wants to say he's taking control of the situation like he has to; the Galra answer. He wants to say that he's not letting this get to his head, that he's dedicated to the Galra empire and all it means but it's not that easy. Lance isn't as familiar in this, but that doesn't matter. He remembers Keith, both of them on their knees in front of each other, kissing and touching aimlessly, simply for the sake and appreciation of doing it. He remembers Lance, oddly quiet, coming to just sit with him after a particularly hard mission, remembers wrapping an arm around him and hugging him. All of these softer, quiet moments start flooding him from out of nowhere, like a crack in a dam that's suddenly split wider.
Shuddering, he holds onto Lance tighter, anchoring himself and then he looks at Keith and feels his heart jerk in his chest.
It's supposed to be a demand to get out of Shiro's head with this, to stop overwhelming him with it - it sounds more like a wrenched out plea, his throat tight. ]
You have to stop.