dappered | (no subject)

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[ the thing is, he's not mad at shiro. maybe he should be, but he's not, because he understands that going from ace pilot with promising space exploration career to prisoner of war to leader of a ten thousand year old resistance faction doesn't leave a lot of room for the smaller, interpersonal problems. pidge is the one with a real cause for a grudge, anyway, and shiro is so painfully, obviously, trying his best to be the leader they need. he doesn't deserve keith hunting him down in the middle of the night to talk about the fact that they had toed the fraternization line uncomfortably close during keith's academy days, and then he thought shiro was dead, and then he started getting weird fucking dreams about alien energies and maybe shiro not being dead, and then... everything else.

shiro is treating him like one of the guys and he understands why. it's easier that way. it's been years and they're both different people now, except keith still has those same dreams--not the ones that left him awake in the dark and sure that shiro was alive, sure that he was breathing somewhere, alone, needing, and so helpless that it hurt to breathe. no, these are the old academy standby, thinking of shiro leaning in close, shiro taking off his shirt for training, shiro finally turning around and seeing him looking. the kind of stupid fantasies that left him hard and wanting when he woke, frantically jerking off just so he could get up and function around shiro without popping wood.

(he still has the dreams about shiro being alone somewhere, every now and then. he gets up and paces down the hallways and brushes his hand over shiro's door, but he never hits the comm button. they have each other now, or something, he tells himself. the dreams are clearly some kind of influence from the lions, and they're all together now.)

anyway he has shiro back and there's still a fucking glass wall between them. no unnecessary touches. no late nights together in one of their rooms, even though all they had ever done was talk. it's frustrating as fuck and he gets it and he's trying really hard to be fucking understanding, trying not to push. allura had said that they might notice some influences from the lions, now that they'd all established a bond, that they might be more sensitive to each other, but keith doesn't feel sensitive so much as scraped raw, holding everything back. he wants to hit something all the time. he snaps at lance and flings himself into battle when he has the chance and he thinks sometimes he can feel shiro through that link they're all supposed to have, that hint of quiet strength coupled with some sort of strapped down emotion-- loneliness? pain? --but then it's gone and he's left wondering whether he imagined it in the first place.

they'd been encouraged to go and spend time with their lions to strengthen their mystic bonds or whatever, but here keith is guiltily fucking sneaking around the wrong hangar, running his hand carefully over the black lion's sleek metal skin. that tiny little place in the back of his head where his weird impulses and gut feelings come from isn't telling him that he's unwelcome, but he knows that this is kind of suspicious. ]

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[ He has to trust that Lance knows what he's doing here, because Shiro instantly feels like he sure as hell doesn't. He's caught between two instincts, and while he knows that he's got a beta here and some part of him is mollified, it's -- it's still Lance. The last thing he wants to do is for this to come off as if he's just using Lance for this and is then going to discard him or be strange around him afterward.

They'd have to talk, of course, but they'd dealt with worse. ] I don't know, Lance. [ Shiro catches the bottle of water and stands there, just a few feet away, trembling with the urge to get over there and press himself against every inch of Lance's skin. He knows it's coming eventually. Between Lance's skimpy robe and Shiro's boxers and tank top, they're both not wearing much and both sides of him are happy for that. ]

I don't even know what I need.

[ This isn't exactly an experience he's familiar with here. He feels himself get slicker at the idea of both - at knotting Lance, but also at the idea of him taking control from Shiro for a little while, so everything didn't rest on him for just a little while. It doesn't matter, is what it boils down to. Shiro uncaps the bottle and takes a long drink, drains half of it and then caps it and settles it near the bed. He's nearly shaking with holding back from touching him, but every move is deliberate, intentional. Whatever the Galra did to him, he's not going to lose control. He's better than that.

Each step feels like it takes a thousand years to complete, but soon enough he's got Lance nudged up against the wall and has a hand cupping his face and the other at his waist. He angles Lance in for a kiss and nudges Lance's hips up just so, giving him a slight boost so their cocks graze against each other and Shiro can push a thigh between his legs. It takes two tries between long, filthy kisses, but he manages: ] We won't do anything that you don't want.

[ they've already flown through a wormhole to the far ends of the universe and spend their time fighting aliens in magic space lion robots. this isn't nearly as unknown and scary. maybe it should be? maybe it should be terrifying that there's something wrong with shiro's body, that it could be infectious, that it could be deliberate. what would another alpha have done, presented with an alpha that mimicked an omega? rejected him, gotten into a fight, tried to dominate him like a regular omega? even an older, more experienced beta might have balked at getting into something so out of the ordinary.

fortunately, no one has ever accused lance of being too cautious or unwilling to take risks. he can feel the way shiro is holding himself back, and also that the dam is about to break at any second. ]

You need me, [ he insists in a burst of daring, and then he's being carefully backed against the wall and oh, the heat of shiro's hand on his skin is ridiculous for how it makes his pulse speed up, his eyes going helplessly wide and then sliding shut to better concentrate on the feeling. a two hour absence has only made the strangeness of shiro's scent more prominent, unsettling, but he wants it anyway. he throws his arms clumsily around shiro's neck, hanging off him, panting into their kiss and letting shiro do whatever the hell he wants to position him, happy to spread his legs.

by the time shiro speaks again his eyes are glazed, lips still parted, and there's a slowly growing damp spot on the front of his robe where his cock is rubbing deliciously against shiro's, hard and hot behind the layer of silk. he barely hears what shiro's saying, and anyway the thought of anything lance doesn't want is ridiculous. ]

Take this off, [ he mumbles, tugging at the hem of shiro's tanktop. ] That's what I want. I wanna-- I wanna feel you, I wanna touch you.

[ He can't stop the way his mind seems to fog the more attention he gets from Lance, the more he touches him in return. He refuses to lose control entirely but there's no stopping the way he grinds their bodies together and has to force himself to stop and listen to Lance when he gives the other instructions.

His hands cross over his waist and he hooks his fingers in the material, tugging up and over his head and tossing it off to the side. He'll have to get it later, and normally, he takes the time to take it off and fold it to put back on again if it's the same night. That he's not bothering to fold it, but simply toss it on the ground is one of the few signs that he's not quite as controlled as he'd like to be. ]

I do. [ There's no doubt to his tone; they both know what the truth is and right now Shiro doesn't have it in him to argue the fact of it. He likely wouldn't die but it wouldn't be comfortable going through whatever this was alone. He did need Lance and it was only more obvious when he slips his hands underneath Lance's thin robe and is able to run his fingers along bare skin.

The noise he makes is somewhere between appreciation and contentment, rough hands skimming over the warm skin of his chest, up over his nipples and then back down again. Lance is saying he wants to touch him like there's any way Shiro would say no right now. He huffs out a laugh and smears a kiss against Lance's throat, rolling their hips together in slow, shallow pushes with each roll of his feet. There's no point in hiding it and Lance is so talkative that Shiro figures Lance doesn't mind hearing confirmation back: ] I want you to. Please.

[ this is it, this is how lance dies. takashi shirogane running big, possessive hands up his chest, making his nipples peak instantly, saying that he needs lance, saying that he wants lance to touch him--

and then shiro's tanktop is gone and there are muscles for days and also scars and twin flashes of metal that make his cock jump against shiro's and his eyes go wide as saucers. his hands are there immediately, sort of reverently framing shiro's pecs as he stares at the heavy silver rings strung through each nipple.

he immediately wants them in his mouth. his lips actually part just thinking of it, and he swallows hard, dragging his eyes back to shiro's with a hungry, yearning look on his face. ]

Do they hurt? Can I touch them? I didn't know you had anything like this, they're so--

[ he trails off, getting mesmerized just looking at them again, and he doesn't seem to realize that he's just standing there cupping and kneading shiro's chest reflexively, staring at his piercings like a naive virgin. ]

[ He can't say he'd forgotten about them, but it's the nearest word for the truth that he's got. He was aware of them but didn't do much with them, not after everything. They could have been taken out, he supposes, but just like the arm, he hasn't really looked into doing anything about it past living with what marks they left.

At least Lance doesn't look horrified. No, instead he looks more like he's been presented with a present so large he's not sure where to start unwrapping first. That's -- better than what he expected, he'll take that. ]

They don't hurt. They're - yes, you can touch. [ It's hell on earth to try and finish a sentence with anything close to coherency. Shiro sucks in a breath when Lance's hands skim over his chest, every little point of contact feeling like it was too much, like he was going to be overwhelmed by it. ] Do something.

[ The standing and staring is good but Shiro can't kiss him while he's doing that and he's about three seconds from picking him up and dumping him in the bed so he can get closer and press himself against every inch of Lance, preferably with no clothes. ]

[ look don't expect him to have high standards here!! he is just. very excited about seeing his very first nipple piercings up close and personal, which is why the first thing he does, spurred by the desperation in shiro's voice and the slowly deepening stupid-lust taking over his brain, is to immediately duck his head and put his mouth all over one, licking and nibbling curiously. the contrast of the metal with the taste of shiro's skin is fascinating, and he wants-- he wants more than just this, he wants to lick shiro everywhere, he wants to press his face in against the places that smell delicious and are begging to be tasted. his lips close over the peak of the nipple and he sucks delightedly, something like a purr rising in his throat and forgetting to be nervous or self-conscious about what he's doing. ]

[ Nope, nevermind. Picking him up is a better option because it allows him the ability to grab Lance and dump him back onto the bed, thank you very much. Shiro hefts him up with both hands under Lance's ass, dislodging him temporarily. The door is shut and locked and that's about all he cares about right now, carrying him over to the bed, sitting down and scooting back with a lap full of Lance. It's not the most graceful of movements but he manages to get his back braced against the wall and pushes a hand through Lance's hair to bring him back.

Once, he'd hated them, hated how sensitive they were, hated that they could get such a reaction out of him. Now, Shiro arches his back and tilts his hips up, squirming helplessly at the potential for Lance to put his mouth back on them. ]

[ WOW OK ok he's fine, he's cool, he's definitely not making embarrassing squeaking noises and clutching shiro's shoulders as he's moved. he is bright fucking red by the time they're back on the bed together, because now he's in shiro's lap with his short robe rucked up even higher on his thighs and shiro will be able to feel that he's wet enough to leave a damp spot soaked into shiro's boxers. lance can feel just how huge and rigid shiro's cock is underneath him too. it feels impossibly larger than his own.

that's going to be inside him before they're done here. the thought keeps sparking and fizzing in his brain, equal parts giddy and terrified. he grinds down against it in a sort of helpless panic, enough to feel the head of it catch against him and god, he's getting shiro's dick wet right through the fabric of the boxers, he's making a mess all over him and he can't stop himself. the beta in him still wants to take care of shiro and make sure that he has everything he needs to get through this heat, but the reality of that is probably going to be lance with his face shoved in the mattress and his ass in the air and shiro behind him, driving into him mercilessly.

better not to dwell on that, though, he also figures by the time it happens he'll probably be sobbing for it the way all the betas and omegas in trashy videos do. alphas like that, apparently, and shiro's still an alpha even if he's having a weird time right now. he shivers at the hand in his hair, by how much sheer fucking space on lance's skull that palm covers, and bends down to latch onto the other nipple, this time sucking much harder in response to his own nerves. ]

[ He wants to say that he maintains his cool during this, that he's able to keep his thoughts together, to plan this out but he knows that's both not possible and ridiculous all in one. Normally during a heat or a rut, it's impossible to keep thoughts straight; during one that's been delayed so long, he knows it'll be next to impossible.

It feels impossible the moment he catches the scent of Lance when that ridiculous robe shifts; he can feel the spot of wetness on his boxers, knows that he's just as slick from the idea of it, from the idea of Lance being there. Shiro buries his face in the curve of Lance's neck and grips at him tight enough he fears he'll leave bruises but can't stop himself, panting and shaking and rocking up against the thick line of Lance's dick pressed tight against him. ]

Lance, I can't, I'm- [ Oh god he really doesn't want to get come all over the insides of his boxers but Lance puts his mouth down against his nipple again and there's a touch of teeth in addition to the wet-hot warmth and that's it. Shiro tenses and whines quietly in the back of his throat, hips jerking in sharp, uneven movements, pulsing wet into the material of his boxers. It's not enough and he knows that; there's that horrible, empty feeling that he's never had before in addition to the normal rut where he wants to be inside something, someone but the orgasm helps, at least a little. Gives him enough sense that he can drop both hands down from Lance's hips to his ass and squeeze, directing him to roll his hips against the fat swell of his own cock, sliding slickly between the come and everything else. ]

Oh fuck, fuck. [ he can smell it the second shiro comes as much as he can feel it, sudden warm wetness flooding the thin cotton between them. his mouth pops off shiro's nipple, grinding down into the wet mess and into shiro's grip on his ass, and he has to swallow a sudden rush of saliva as he realizes what he's supposed to do next. he backs out of shiro's hands and drops his face to the obscene outlined bulge of shiro's cock like he's being pulled down to it by a leash, nosing and mouthing almost frantically at it, tongue darting out to press against the wet cotton. the scent of it is overwhelming at close range and he looks up imploringly at shiro, panting and eager and flushed but either unwilling or unable to work the complicated machinery of pulling down a waistband. he wants shiro's hands in his hair again, he wants shiro to feed him his cock, he wants to lick and nurse until all that seed goes where it's meant to, inside lance. ]

[ It's too fucking much and he can't handle it. Shiro sinks back against the bed, limp for a moment as he tries to process everything. A rut's overwhelming on its own but combined with a heat and the fact that it's been ages since he's had it and hasn't slept with anyone recently -- it's too much.

He has to take time to catch his breath and then just like that it's gone again because Lance has somehow slithered down and has his mouth pressed against the firm line of his dick through his boxers. Any other time, it'd be too much, he'd need time to recover but right now he pushes his hips up eagerly and lets out a soft breath, hooking a his human hand in Lance's hair while his other starts shoving down his boxers.

It takes some creative wiggling with Lance right there, but he manages to get them off mostly, onto one leg, hanging off his ankle. His dick is wet with precome and come and it's messy, but he doesn't think he or Lance are in the right mind to actively give a shit right now. ]

[ lance certainly isn't, as all possible intelligent thought has gone out the window at first actual taste of shiro on his tongue. pheromones are a big part of cycles, obviously, but fluid exchange seals the deal. if lance and shiro were incompatible they would find each other's scent off-putting and taste intolerable, but shiro tastes perfect to him, something he wants to lap up like a cat given a dish of cream. he nuzzles against shiro's slightly softened dick affectionately and licks over it with the flat of his tongue, cleaning up the mess and nibbling at the piercings. he'd be embarrassed about his own enthusiasm if he were thinking straight, as this isn't how anyone gives a blowjob (also, he'd be boggling at the sheer amount of metal there seems to be in shiro's dick), but all he can focus on is the clean, sharp taste of shiro's healthy and fertile seed. whatever weirdness is in his scent either hasn't carried over into the taste of his come or lance is too gone to sense it.

once shiro has been licked clean lance is free to focus on the fat droplets still oozing from his slit, and he suckles the head gently, eyes half-closed and a contented noise rumbling up through his chest and vibrating through his throat. his hips are rocking absently against the bed, rubbing himself into the sheets. ]

Give me -- just, shit, Lance, please, give me a second.

[ A second, a tick, something. Blindly, he gropes out, palming a hand through Lance's hair and misses the first two times. Coordination is out the window as he lies there, panting in the aftermath of his orgasm, but he's still hard. This, at least, isn't different than normal; he remembers this part. What's new is the scent of Lance, heady and overwhelming in the air.

His hand catches, finally, finding the back of Lance's head while he licks idly at the mess and cleans him up and then draws flat, bunching in his hair and fisting, tugging him back firmly but not harshly. He can feel his own slick on the insides of his thighs, wetting the blankets beneath him but it's the alpha part of him that wants to satisfy Lance, wants to stop him from grinding aimlessly against the covers when it's his job to make sure that he's satisfied during this. ]

Come here--

[ Moving is a chore but he manages to get himself out from under Lance and then they're both kneeling and Shiro pauses a moment, using that fist in his hair to tug his head back and kiss him, licking the taste of himself out of Lance's mouth. When he's done and has to catch his breath, he draws back, nodding toward the pillows. ]

I want - let me--

[ Shiro stops, endlessly frustrated with himself, pressing his face into the curve of Lance's shoulder, his scent grounding him. He's got a beta here, there's no rush, no one else is here.

His human hand drops down, curls loose around Lance's dick and then gradually tightens in a slow stroke but even with precome it's too dry to be comfortable, he's sure. His hand drops away and when it comes back, it's slick from himself and he angles him into another kiss while his hand circles around it again, tugging in slow, smooth pulls. ]

[ lance makes a whine of protest when he's dragged away from shiro's dick, not understanding for a moment-- is he doing it wrong? does shiro not want him? he'd heard about-- had been warned about-- alphas who didn't like doing anything that wasn't shoving their cock into a wet hole and knotting it, focused entirely on breeding. there were alphas who didn't believe in kissing. shiro had never seemed like that type, but people were different during their ruts or heats, and lance has the hysterical thought all of a sudden that he doesn't care, he'd want whatever shiro wanted, it didn't matter if he was never kissed if that was what made his alpha happy...

but then he is being kissed, aggressively and thoroughly, and it's like taking a breath of air after being underwater. of course shiro isn't like that, and lance can't let him be like that, and lance can't lose himself here. shiro is depending on him. he swallows shakily, blinking. ]

S-sorry, I didn't, I haven't--

[ done this before. no, he probably shouldn't say that out loud. he shuts his mouth on the words and quickly moves into the position shiro is asking for, breathing deeply and trying to think calming thoughts. shiro's naked and lance decides it's high time to join him, stripping off the flimsy robe and tossing it away somewhere, leaving his (regular, ordinary, non-pierced) cock hard and wet between his thighs. if he were less worked up he'd be embarrassed about it, but it's honestly a secondary concern right now when shiro drops his head to lance's shoulder, and it seems natural to wind his arms around shiro's broad shoulders. he sets his jaw where shiro can't see it and tightens the embrace. ]

Anything you want. I've got you, alright, everything's okay-- oh, oh fuck, Shiro...

[ now he's not so much comforting as clinging to shiro's shoulders, breath shuddering in and out of his lungs in time with every slow tug on his cock. ]

Oh shit, oh shit, I'm, I'm gonna-- mmm. [ the kiss swallows the sounds he's making, the warning he's trying to give, and it's not more than one or two more strokes before he's coming all over shiro's hand like the teenager he is, moaning. ]

[ He hated alphas who were only concerned with getting an omega on their knot, or a beta if they couldn't find an omega who'd take them. They were the worst sort and he'd had to knock a couple heads together more than once to make sure that the alphas knew that they wouldn't tolerate that kind of shit when it came to the Garrison.

He's sure not to make the same mistakes, here. Lance deserves better than that; if he's going to do this with Shiro, he can damn well make sure that Lance enjoys it, every single bit of it, especially given all the -- what, surprises? Unanticipated side-effects? He's not sure what the term is. He does know what his duty is, though, even if he's not fully alpha anymore. ]

Shh, it's fine.

[ Though he's not sure what Lance is apologizing for, it doesn't matter. He doesn't need to apologize, not when he's warm and willing and tossing that ridiculous robe off and away so that Shiro has unlimited access to all the tanned skin he could hope to touch and lick and taste. It's sweet Lance seems to think he's panicking because of this, rather than that this-- heat, rut, whatever, is so strong that he's worried it'll overwhelm his thinking.

Lance comes quickly and Shiro's terribly pleased, not thinking to warn as he places a hand straight against his chest and shoves him down onto the bed, pulling with his other hand - a little come-wet, but that's probably not the worst thing to worry about here - on his thigh, leg, tugging him. It's graceless, but he makes sure Lance doesn't fall on his knees or bend his legs weird and then dives directly after him to start cleaning up the mess on his hand and belly, returning the favor. The scent of come mixed with Lance's slick is good, but his own body can't stop reminding him how good he would smell if it were Shiro's come mixed with Lance's wetness.

Shuddering out a breath, he mouths a kiss to his thigh when it's done and then debates manhandling him to face down and decides against it. Instead, he grabs at Lance's thighs and pulls him up until he's got only his shoulderblades on the bed. His lower back rests against Shiro's belly and the tops of his thighs and his legs are draped over his shoulders. It gives him perfect access to the wetness smeared there, lets him duck his head down and lick over his twitching hole. Next time, he thinks, he'll build up to it. Right now, he buries his face and eats him out with almost vicious enthusiasm. The hand that's not being used to hold Lance's chest and keep him in place shifts to his dick, jerking him off while he fucks his tongue into Lance. ]

[ lance would sure as hell be panicking if he were to suddenly go into the opposite thing of the thing he's expecting, ok, he's just assuming. shiro doesn't let them see things like panic anyway. he'd run off and locked himself away before any of them could find out that he was like this, presumably out of some dumb instinct to protect them or spare them or whatever, and he wants to-- he wants to make sure that shiro knows that it's okay. that the team is there for him.

or that lance is here for his dick, whatever. shiro needs it and lance can give it (wants to give it) and that's the important thing, right? even keith can't do this for shiro.

anyway orgasm always leaves him kinda limp and useless, all the things in his brain gratifyingly shutting off for a few minutes, which is why he doesn't quite realize at first that shiro is-- cleaning him up, oh god, he can't handle this, he is never going to be able to look at shiro ever again without popping wood, keith is going to murder him.

even though he's just come it won't take him long to get hard again, between his own teenage hormones and shiro's heat having pulled him into a sympathy cycle. he can smell his own heat mixed in with shiro's scent, now, a fainter version of an omega's overwhelming sweetness signalling his fertility and readiness to be bred. being flipped onto his stomach is something he would've expected but shiro manhandles him up, his legs over shiro's shoulders and god, he hadn't realized-- okay he'd known but he hadn't really known how strong shiro was, that he can lift lance almost all the way off the bed like it's nothing, alpha strength on full display. he opens his mouth to say something and then honest to god squeals as shiro licks him there, his hips bucking helplessly against the iron hold. he clutches wildly at the bed and at shiro, trying to find something to hold onto, but all he can really do is tip his head back against the sheets and make horrible embarrassing noises as shiro's tongue fucks into him. he's never, he's heard of this before but he's never done it or had it done to him, he'd never pictured shiro or any alpha licking him and it feels so fucking good he might actually die. his hips squirm and writhe without any direction from him and he wishes wildly that he could push back into it, that he could grab shiro's hair and hold his mouth there--

oh. well. he's grabbed shiro's hair and is holding his mouth there, trying to press it harder against his needy grasping hole, and all the while there are words falling out of his mouth that he can barely hear, cuss words and please in spanish and broken, choked off noises that aren't words at all, just helpless begging sounds. ]

Oh god, oh, oh, oh god, oh fuck, Shiro, Shiro, Shiro please--

[ he's so fucking wet, he can feel it on his thighs and dripping down his stomach from being held up like this, and he thinks he might actually be tearing up as his cock fills out under shiro's fingers, drooling down towards his chest. ]

[ He ought to ask, ought to check in each step of the way but he can't seem to stop himself, and he has to trust that Lance is going to be able to articulate his own wants and dislikes, if he needs to. There's a single-mindedness to Shiro's actions - he just wants Lance to get off, wants him to enjoy himself because he didn't ask to get pulled into his own cycle.

If anything, they were relieved not to be on them for the most part, simply because it proved inconvenient when you had other things you both needed and wanted to do.

He doesn't seem upset, though. He smells interested, needy, and the noises he makes when Shiro licks over him are promising, at the very least. He can't get over how good Lance smells, either. Maybe it's partially due to this heat/rut mix, but it doesn't really matter. Lance tastes and smells good, masculine, if that had a smell.

Lance's cock leaks all over when he palms it, too, between that and Shiro licking over his twitching hole, dipping his tongue in intermittently, he knows he can get Lance there again, wants him to come all over his chest so Shiro can clean it off. He sounds good begging and he's so wet that the noises are soft, but audible as Shiro licks him, dragging his tongue over his balls every so often. Eventually, even he has to breathe so he busies himself with biting and licking over Lance's thighs while he jerks him off, shivering. ]

You're being so good for me, Lance. [ He's just stabbing out there, but given how badly Lance wants to seem to impress him at some points, he's figuring this isn't going to go totally awry. After a beat of hesitation, weighing the words, not sure if he should say them, he tries: ] Can you come again for me?

[ His hand tightens just a touch, wrist twisting at the end of each stroke up, ducking his head back down to lick back into him, slower, more deliberate, well aware of the noises now. ]

[ if anything, it's shiro saying his name like that that makes him shudder uncontrollably. warm and approving and pleased, maybe even fond. he and shiro don't have the same kind of connection that keith and pidge have to him, and he knows... he gets it, okay, he knows that he hasn't really been a stellar of example of courage or skill or strength or intelligence. he's done embarrassing shit. he got blown up once and everybody had to save him. he got tied to a tree. he fights with keith, obviously the favorite, and he hadn't really been pidge's boon companion at the academy, so it's not even that he did anything to protect the remaining members of the holt family, which shiro clearly feels a responsibility for. pidge had always looked after herself. lance hasn't been a very supportive beta to anyone, mostly because he hated the cliche of the supportive beta. it suddenly seems more important in front of an alpha that he desperately wants to make a good impression on.

that's probably hormones talking, anyway. but the approval in shiro's voice lights him up, makes his flush go even deeper and a funny hot feeling coil in his chest, like someone stroking a very sensitive nerve deep inside him that had never been touched. he's never had an alpha focus on him like this. praise him.

he bites his lip at the question but nods frantically, of course he can, he can do anything shiro wants or needs right now. he can feel the familiar sensation building in his balls, swollen and aching under shiro's tongue. one more breath that's almost a sob (he might be crying, he can't tell if it's sweat or tears making the hair at his temples damp) and shiro's tongue moves just right inside him and he stutters shiro's name, panting hard as he comes all over himself in long messy pulses. ]

[ It takes coordination to get Lance to be able to stay where he is without putting too much stress on his core asking him to hook his knees over Shiro's shoulders like that. He does what he can to keep him propped up a little bit, a hand bracing to make sure that he doesn't topple over.

It means he can use his hand to explore, pinching and plucking at Lance's nipples while his mouth works over his twitching hole, flicking his tongue in kittenish little licks before pairing each tug of his nipples with a longer, slower one.

Eventually his hand moves down and curls back around his cock, mouth alternating between teasing the heavy swell of his balls and going back to lick up the dripping mess on his thighs and fuck into him with his tongue all over again. Between those, Shiro talks to him, because Lance sounds like he's going nuts because of it. ]

You're being perfect for me. Doing so well.

[ When he finally comes, Shiro winds a hand around him and strokes him through it again, tempted to push him through to a third but deciding to take pity for the moment. Instead, he gently scoots back and lies Lance down so he can clean up the mess from his hand and Lance's belly, where come rolled down to his chest. Once that's taken care of, he crawls his way up Lance's body, kissing over his pulse gently. ]

Can I kiss you, or should I go rinse my mouth out?

Oh god. [ lance just moans weakly, his hands fluttering uselessly over shiro's skin as he's laid back and taken care of. isn't he supposed to do the caretaking? maybe if shiro were an actual omega instead of just smelling like one, or maybe that's just shiro, taking care of everyone except himself. ] I'm dead, you've killed me.

[ please don't expect him to have a brain to mouth filter right now. he feels like a limp noodle, beta instincts purring at having been found acceptable. he's gotten so used to not reacting, to not wanting to react and shoving down any hint of connection around alphas and omegas that it's strange to feel how satisfying it is to finally let go. shiro praising him is... it makes him squirm helplessly to even think about it, pathetically greedy for it.

it's the beta in him that pushes him up again after his chest has stopped heaving like a bellows and he can shove his nose against shiro's damp hair, inhaling him, winding his arms around shiro's shoulders like they belong there as shiro mouths along his neck. ]

You don’t smell like heat sickness anymore, [ he says shakily, relieved. there was always the chance that they could have done all this, gotten lance imprinted and everything and shiro's body might still have wanted a real omega or alpha to soothe his heat. on the scale of things, using just a single beta to handle a heat or a rut was only a little above using really expensive, customized ‘heat aid’ toys. at least that was what he'd always heard. a single alpha going into rut would happily mount a single compatible omega, but it could take a whole harem of betas to satisfy.

shiro’s weird heat/rut is still strong in the air and on his skin but the mix of lance's come and his slick combines into it in a way that seems right, balanced. one scent isn't wildly overpowering the other, indicating a poor match. ]

Go-- go rinse your mouth, and drink some more water, [ he manages, trying to sound authoritative instead of reluctant to let shiro get off him. ]

Then it's my turn to help you, okay?

Don't die, if you don't mind.

[ Oh, but he's smug. There's all that alphaness leaking through; he's taken care of his partner, he's done this much right. Everything else might be up in the air and he might not know what he's doing, but Lance is a melted puddle on the bed and Shiro can't stop touching him, running his hands down his thighs, up his belly. When Lance tries to push himself up, Shiro hitches one hand around his waist and the other flat against his back to pull him up solidly, into his lap, chest to chest. ]

No, I'm fine.

[ Well, not fine, but at the very least he doesn't feel like he's coming apart at the seams. Shiro tips his head to the side to let Lance nuzzle at him, sweeping a hand up and down the sweaty length of his back. Between them, Shiro's cock is still hard, precome beading and slipping down the tip, smearing against their bellies in shiny lines.

Maybe it's whatever weird omega thing is going on, but Lance gives him an order and Shiro sighs into his throat, feeling this weird sense of contentment at it. He settles him back down against the bed and unfolds himself, half-staggering off of it. It doesn't take long for him to freshen up, running his tongue over his teeth when it's done. Stepping back into the room is like getting hit all over again, the instincts wanting to take over before he breathes through it and clambers back up onto the bed, pressing messy kisses along Lance's legs, up to his thighs and over his belly, making his way up to Lance's mouth where he kisses him slower, tangling a hand in short hair. ]

[ oh no smug is a good look on shiro. of course right now lance would probably think anything would be a good look on shiro, but smug isn’t something he’s had directed at him before in a way that hasn’t made him feel like he’s been dunked on.

probably the orgasms had something to do with that. ]

No promises if you’re going to do that.

[ except for how he secretly really wants to do that again, eventually. maybe after they’ve taken care of that hard, insistent length rubbing against his belly. all the metal in it has warmed to body temperature by now and he’s really, really interested in getting to watch shiro come this time. he wriggles a little closer experimentally, feeling it slip and catch against his skin, ducking his face against the scent glands on shiro’s neck and inhaling deeply, pleased with himself. he did that. he put that faint note of balance and calm in the middle of shiro’s anxious, heavy heat/rut scent.

a more experienced attending beta probably would’ve gotten up and brought the water back to the bed so the alpha didn’t have to stir himself, but shiro seems ok with taking suggestions-- maybe more willingly than he’d expected out of an older alpha, but honestly what the fuck does lance know about how alphas act or don’t act during their cycle. he’s only ever bullied siblings and schoolmates into taking care of themselves.

the minute shiro isn’t holding him up anymore he falls back flat against the sheets, trying to muster the energy to care about the giant wet spot he’s sprawled in. he has to really push himself to move and ooze his way off the bed, guzzling down half a water bottle himself and sloppily tugging the super gross sheets off. it’s gonna be towels and spare sheets from here on out to save the mattress. he wipes the worst of the mess off his skin, too, a futile gesture for how he can still feel wetness ticklishly sliding down his inner thighs.

he’s noodley enough to want to just leave everything dumped on the floor but shiro deserves someone trying their best, so he takes the time to stuff the dirty sheets down the little hatch in the wall that presumably goes to the laundry and lays out the new things neatly enough, and also unpacks some of the supplies he’d brought and sets them within easy reach on the bedside table. more water and rations, easy to wolf down between bouts of fucking. lube, not that they seem to have a problem there. condoms, and an embarrassing little box of toys for both alphas and omegas that he shoves hurriedly in the drawer. the cold packs and temperature reducers he leaves in the bag on the floor, since it seems like they’re not going to have to do any emergency measures of trying to lower a heat sickness fever.

then shiro is crawling back over him and lance is making embarrassing noises before shiro even reaches the level of his mouth, hands flexing on shiro’s shoulders and even wrapping his thighs around shiro’s hips like he might disappear if lance doesn’t hold onto him. everything about him feels good, tastes good, smells good, and he forgets to be nervous about the way they’re kissing, greedy and eager. ]

[ Shiro doesn't bother hiding his low, warm rumble of a laugh when Lance says that, still terribly pleased with himself as he takes care of what needs done. When he comes back, he doesn't miss that the room has been tidied a little bit and he's grateful for it. It still smells like a mix of the two of them, the musk of a heat and the sharpness of a rut mixed together.

Distantly, he notes the supplies brought over, but the mix of heat/rut is still overwhelming enough that he doesn't really care; he's not hungry, he's barely thirsty right now. Brushing his teeth and downing a little water took care of most of the issue.

More important than anything else in his mind right now, is getting Lance back as close as he can again, kissing him until his lips tingle and he's panting softly, licking into his mouth, alternating slow and filthy kisses with harder ones, pushing Lance down into the bed and grinding his hips against him. It's good enough to get off like this, he's sure, but he wants -- he wants. Wants something in him, wants to be inside Lance. He can feel the slickness against the insides of Lance's thighs where he's got them hitched around Shiro's waist.

It'd be so easy to just reach a hand down, to angle his dick and push into him, rock until he gets off and knot him, his instincts demanding it. That's not how he wants to play this, though, so he doesn't. He draws back to catch breath instead and keeps to the slow, gentle rolls of their hips together, cocks slipping wetly while he leaves a ring of bruises against the tan skin of Lance's throat, nosing at his pulse, the scent so comforting he just wants to roll around in it. ]

Are you alright?

I’m good, I’m-- oh god, I’m good, I’m great, you’re great, [ he babbles, his knees hitching higher every time shiro’s teeth find his skin. freaking out over hickies will come later. lance has never had a hickie in his life and he’d never even entertained the possibility of letting an alpha mark him up, but if there’s anything that pleases an alpha during rut it’s physical evidence of ownership. his fingers slip to the small of shiro’s back and then he boldly squirms a hand between them, rubbing over the head of shiro’s cock and toying with the piercing. he’s still soft and loose between them but shiro is so hard and ready. ]

You should come on me, [ he blurts out suddenly, and then looks horrified, and then sort of rallies behind it the way he would for a really bad decision that’s already been made and can’t be taken back now. ]

Good--

[ Words are really overrated right now; Shiro mouths down the line of Lance's throat and leaves another mark just above where it becomes shoulder and then forces himself down, squirming a little to kiss over the expanse of his chest, biting lightly at a nipple.

He nearly collapses when Lance's hand dips down, toying with his cock, thumbing over the piercing and it's enough that he has to sink down over him, trembling helplessly as he ruts into it, gasping into Lance's throat. ]

Yes-- alright, yes.

[ Lance could ask for anything right now and he'd agree to it, really.

It takes a moment for him to get himself together enough to sink back but he settles on his knees between Lance's thighs and then hesitates, taking his cock in hand. ]

Where?

[ The question sounds ripped out of him because it is. His face, his belly, his ass, it's too many choices and Shiro's near mindless with it, fisting himself slow and steady. ]