[ He's always hated the mentality that alphas can't control themselves around an omega or a beta. He can control himself; if Lance had at any point told him no, he would have stopped, sent him away. The problem was that Lance had no intentions of doing that and-- well, Shiro supposes it's not so much a problem as it is something he's going to have to talk to him about later when this subsides. Plenty of betas and omegas - and alphas, really, hadn't taken to spending a heat or a rut with anyone back at the Garrison. There were suppressants, and a thousand other ways to deal with it. There were others who did pair up; Shiro had briefly talked with Matt about it, offering if he needed anything while they were on the mission, though it had never gone anywhere given what happened.
He'd like to think that he has his head on straight after this, but there's no truth to that at all. Orgasm yanks all the thoughts right out of his head and he's left with instinct: burying himself into Lance, pressing his mouth to his shoulder and holding him tight until it's finished, equal parts protective and possessive. He's laughably easy to move where Lance wants him to and does his best to help out, curling into him when it's done, panting quietly into his neck. The first few moments are enough to ease some of the fog in his mind; Shiro drops a hand down where instructed and flattens it against the delicate swell of his belly and oh. He's not expecting the pulse of warmth to go through him, the mental image of Lance swollen with his children.
Shiro doesn't exactly want children right now - five, ten years down the road, sure, he wants that but right now it's the worst idea. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine the sight of it, the sharp angles of Lance rounded out. His fingers press lightly there and trace down to his dick, cupping him lightly while he catches his breath and tries to get his brain to work again enough to find words. ]
You were so good for me. [ Lance'd asked for it earlier but finding words was like trying to grasp at dry sand and build something. Now, it's easier, the last few pulses of orgasm good but not mind-numbing like before. ] Perfect, Lance.
no subject
He'd like to think that he has his head on straight after this, but there's no truth to that at all. Orgasm yanks all the thoughts right out of his head and he's left with instinct: burying himself into Lance, pressing his mouth to his shoulder and holding him tight until it's finished, equal parts protective and possessive. He's laughably easy to move where Lance wants him to and does his best to help out, curling into him when it's done, panting quietly into his neck. The first few moments are enough to ease some of the fog in his mind; Shiro drops a hand down where instructed and flattens it against the delicate swell of his belly and oh. He's not expecting the pulse of warmth to go through him, the mental image of Lance swollen with his children.
Shiro doesn't exactly want children right now - five, ten years down the road, sure, he wants that but right now it's the worst idea. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine the sight of it, the sharp angles of Lance rounded out. His fingers press lightly there and trace down to his dick, cupping him lightly while he catches his breath and tries to get his brain to work again enough to find words. ]
You were so good for me. [ Lance'd asked for it earlier but finding words was like trying to grasp at dry sand and build something. Now, it's easier, the last few pulses of orgasm good but not mind-numbing like before. ] Perfect, Lance.