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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[ look it is not his fault that red is such a difficult lion, and also completely opposite to everything lance had figured out while piloting blue. he's not a leg anymore, he's an arm, he's in a quick, hyper-responsive machine that sometimes seems to move even before he touches the controls. physically the red lion is much smaller, too, forcing lance to have constantly check himself and carefully watch out for the space around him, and red doesn't seem interested in helping out very much. lance can't help thinking of him (her?) as the quintessential girlfriend cat, the pet that fawns all over its owner and hisses at the well-meaning boyfriend trying his best to co-exist.

not that red was ever particularly fawning. lance had heard keith's story about how red let him get sucked out a galra airlock before deigning to lift a giant robotic paw.

allura and blue seem to get along just fine, which is both gratifying and annoying, because she'd talked about how this would change their mental bonds with the lions and with each other, and lance had thought maybe it would be a chance to get closer with her-- but no, her altean-ness, or possibly just her princess-ness keeps her out of the mental link, while every time he touches red he gets an unwanted wash of keith all over his brain.

when asked about it, allura had said blue was a very polite lion and didn't get memories all over its pilot like some kind of psychic mud clinging to it, just waiting to be rubbed off. it's sort of a compliment, maybe, except he has the feeling that she was talking about blue's own personality as being independently polite rather than it having anything to do with lance's brief ownership. red, on the other hand, has psychic keith-memory-mud like, knee deep everywhere. lance feels it whenever he sits in the chair, whenever he puts his hand on the controls. he's even wearing keith's stupid armor with keith's stupid bayard that he doesn't know how to use. the one time he'd tried to pilot red while wearing his own blue armor he'd been forcibly ejected out the lion's mouth and dumped on his ass. it sort of made sense that each lion was most compatible with their own color bayard, but blue didn't seem to give a shit what allura wore when she piloted, and pidge and hunk tried switching lions as an experiment and didn't get immediately vomited up like an unwanted hairball.

allura said, spend more time with your lion. allura said, concentrate on your bond of partnership. allura said, try focusing on memories of keith to give the lion a shared connection. except all his memories of keith now are weirdly mixed with memories of shiro, and red seems to amplify that connection, flooding him with sudden, shocking sense-memories of a mouth kissing his, a hand touching his hip, a warm, broad chest against his back as he rocked slowly down on a thick, huge cock. now he wakes up in the middle of the fucking night with come all over his stomach and thighs, a hand clapped over his mouth to muffle his noises and aching for someone who was never there in the first place. he's never been so horribly aware of his own body or how it's possible to physically feel the distance between you and another person. he just knows where keith is now, all the time, he feels the air in a room change when keith enters or exits, and it's obnoxious.

it gets worse in the actual cockpit of the red lion, apparently because all keith and shiro ever did was have sex in their lions. he gets flashes of them when he sits in the chair to the point where training sessions or meditation attempts begin or end (or both) with him having to jack off furiously, keith's red uniform shoved down to his thighs, sprawled back in the chair and his brain full of fog and half-memories. shiro's mouth on him. (lance has never been with anyone.) shiro's voice whispering his name like a lifeline. (it's not his name.) shiro with two human hands and all black hair, younger, surrounded by sunlight and looking soft and happy in a bed somewhere. shiro and keith and keith and shiro and sometimes keith alone, his face hidden in the crook of his own arm on the red lion's console, silently bringing himself off.

he legitimately doesn't sense or hear or see keith at first, his eyes half-open but glassy, and the red lion is crooning something directly in his head that sounds like a language he can't understand, and what red recognizes is the black paladin and his right to be here. lance is panting, cheeks flushed, and he turns his head blindly without really seeing, snagging keith's hand. ]

S-shiro...?

( there's a physical recoil to the name, although he doesn't step far enough to break their hold -- the touch inspires a specific memory, probably the one lance is remembering right now, of shiro moaning his name and keith coming on the spot, too thoroughly in love with him to not react to the husky sounds of his voice telling him that he's good, i love you, keith. as if stuck in a trance of the memories the red lion refuses to let go ( keith refuses too, but he doesn't share them ), keith snaps himself out of it, bubbled up emotions striking the surface. his face reads it, if lance can tell, some heartbreak on top of desperation and longing, some fury hidden behind the obvious desire of wanting to feel what lance is feeling -- even for a short time, even if it hurts more in the long run. he misses shiro more than he misses earth.

his dick is still out, which shudders keith at an alarming rate when he looks down to see it, swollen and red at the wet tip, beading pearls out on lance's fingers. the hot flush of embarrassment follows steadily on his cheeks, and he wriggles his hand from lance's grip, stretching his fingers out. )

It's Keith. ( he should sound angrier, not as blown out aroused. he's ignoring the tent at the front of his jeans, blaming his age more than any actual attraction. he keeps his gaze intent, eyebrows furrowed -- though it doesn't really seem like he's angry with lance anymore. ) Lance ...

[ even that doesn't break the spell immediately, as lance looks thoroughly confused and just repeats his own name in a way that suggests he can't fathom why it's being spoken.

then the memory spits him out and lance is staring at keith in the cockpit of his former lion, dick in hand and keith looking like someone just stabbed him through the heart. lance shrieks and scrabbles for the nearest something-- his jacket-- and clutches it over him like a woman would clutch a bedsheet, legs drawn up comically into the command chair. ]

What the hell man, this is private lion time, can't you fucking-- knock or something?! Jesus! And you! [ he turns his head to yell directly at the console, meaning the red lion itself. ] What the fuck? What the fucking fuck was that, you made me call him Shiro!

There's no place to knock!

( he flinches as lance yells at the console, immediately on the defensive -- although he has to remember that the red lion isn't his lion at the moment, it still doesn't change his immediate distaste. he clenches his fist before he relaxes, turning his body so he doesn't have to see lance so ... disheveled. and so lance doesn't have to see him look aroused by it.

he sighs, heavily, a loosened fist now running through his hair. )

The lion didn't make you say it, it's 'cause you were thinking about him. I feel like -- I don't know, like I'm inside your head. You saw me and Shiro.

[ that shuts him up immediately, his face going even more tomato red. ]

I wasn't! T-thinking about him, like, I don't sit in here and think about Shiro and jack off, I. Fuck.

[ no, he sits in here and thinks about keith and ends up jacking off. he bites his lip. ]

Look, if you could just tell your lion-- this lion-- to maybe... slow his roll? With the crazy memory stuff? Maybe it would get better? Because I am all ears for suggestions on how to not have this happen.

Relax, Lance, shit.

( a more nerved hand through his hair, irritable and embarrassed. he understands the instruction and figures it worth a shot, even if lance is the one who suggested it, settling his free hand on the console and closing his eyes. he breathes, listening to the red lion breathing -- feeling him breathe more or less, life rumbled underneath his fingertips. shortly after his eyes scare open and he draws his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting like a very grumpy cat. )

I can't do that. ( directed towards the lion, obviously. he'd just ignoring lance at this point, keeping his eyes elsewhere. ) It's ... wrong.

What's wrong. [ now he's looking back and forth angrily/anxiously between keith's face and the console. ] What did he-- ugh.

[ he'll just slap a hand down himself on the console and try to eavesdrop, except that kind of backfires because the moment he tries to touch the connection he's flooded with the red lion's strongest impressions. keith on his knees in this very room, his mouth lovingly cradling the shape of shiro's cock. keith curled up like a little kid in the chair, listening to the lion's rumbling purr. keith in battle, his heart pounding and g-forces tearing at him. keith breathing shiro's name in and out, moving slowly with him. keith with his back resting against the red lion's great metal paw, shiro slumped against him with his head in keith's lap while keith cards fingers gently through his hair. keith gasping and wild, riding shiro to climax. keith sitting up in the chair, reaching out to grab the black paladin's belt (did shiro wear a belt?) and pull him down, thighs spread invitingly, warm lips on his--

oh that's. that's keith. he'd grabbed keith, and pretty much pulled keith down into his lap, and now he's kissing keith, except when he shuts his eyes it's shiro, and this is too fucking much, he shuts his eyes deliberately and licks into the black paladin's mouth, kissing him angrily and clumsily, the way lance would kiss, not the memory kiss. ]

I'm going crazy, t-this is... this is all your fucking fault-- please--

[ his hips roll helplessly, and he moans into keith's mouth at the barest friction against his dick, still covered by his jacket, which is going to be ruined now. ]

Wha --

( yeah, he can't speak, mouth suddenly invaded by the heat of lance's -- the worst part is that he actually arches into it at first, shocked but still kissing him back, and he doesn't have shiro to blame. his eyes are wide and he sees lance and still kisses him, desperate since shiro's been gone, not -- not that his relationship with shiro is easily replicated, but sex is something he didn't have to think about, could lose himself in. he's been aggravated and emotional, not feeling loved for so long.

the red lion hisses at him go, do it, and he shudders and rolls his shoulders, fixing his seat on lance, so his knees are on the outsides of his thighs. he's smaller than shiro, which is his only frame of reference, and the figure is awkward, but keith braces himself with one hand cupping lance's chin. )

If you tell anyone about this I'll beat you.

( the red lion makes his disapproval known. you're the leader now, protect your pride. keith sighs and leans so their foreheads touch, keeping his eyes on lance. )

Look, just. Keep your eyes closed and don't think.

( and keith will kiss him, their heads tilted together, tonguing out against the line of his mouth in a way shiro had taught him. he's emulating him, trying to do -- whatever he'd do, maybe. protect the people closest. wraggle a free arm down to push aside the messy jacket, wrapping slender, calloused fingers around his leaking cock. )

Oh my god, who would I tell. [ he hisses, biting at keith’s mouth. what’s he going to do, get up on the table during lunch and announce that he’s been having psychic sex visions of keith and shiro? and that the red lion is an aggressive pervert that pushed him into making out with keith just to satisfy its own sense of symmetry between the black and red paladins? yeah, no.

and he’s not going to lay back and just let keith do whatever he wants or follow his orders, hell no, nobody said that keith gets to call the shots here, lance isn’t going to be submissive for him. except the eyes closed thing might actually be a good idea if keith is going to lean into him like that, pressing their foreheads together. somehow that feels horribly intimate all on its own-- actually it feels like what keith and shiro would do, have done, being quiet and close and together in a way that frankly terrifies lance. if keith is shiro, is lance supposed to be keith? act like keith? how does keith act around shiro? besotted, apparently, and lance is not besotted by or impressed with keith, at all, ever, over the top of the grumbles from the red lion trying to remind him that the black paladin is their leader and deserves lance’s respect and commitment and-- and devotion, gross, what do magic robot lions from space even know about devotion--

right, don’t think. don’t think. thinking is not his friend right now. he digs his fingers into keith’s shoulders, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to do with them-- he is not grabbing keith’s ass, no matter what the red lion helpfully suggests over the link. This kiss is less bite-y and it’s… it’s okay, it’s fine, it’s a little weird to feel keith’s tongue tracing his lips, he’s probably supposed to open his mouth for it, right? open his mouth and let keith push his tongue inside, but he’s not sure he wants that, why can’t keith open his mouth instead and lance will put his tongue in, how are they supposed to decide who does what, this had seemed so much less complicated in the movies.

his jacket is shoved to the floor without warning and then keith’s calloused warm fingers are curling around the aching shaft of his dick, and okay, okay, that’s good, that’s fine, he makes a whining noise into the kiss and opens his mouth for keith before remembering he wasn’t going to do that. ]

D-don’t-- [ should he be panting? he’s panting and they’re hardly even doing anything yet, his pulse hammering loudly in his ears. ] Don’t tell me what to do, asshole, you’re not in charge of me--

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