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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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keith had him and lost him and found him again and lost him again. it's personal for him, and even if he never talks about it lance can feel that rage simmering under the surface, courtesy of the bond through their lions. he grips keith's hand hard, doing his best to think calming thoughts in keith's direction. one day the thought is going rear its ugly head that maybe shiro is dead, or gone for good, and keith is going to lose it in all possible directions, and he won't listen to lance. he barely listens to lance now, which is fantastic for lance's confidence in his own abilities to be a stand-in second in command.
he can practically feel keith vibrating next to him. they're ordered at gunpoint to the slave baths, a common ritual whenever they're going to be presented to a new master for some service, and lance manages to stumble into keith as they're sluiced off under the showers, pressing himself bodily against him, using the cover of the warm water to hide everything. their hands are still tied behind their backs but lance hooks his chin over keith's shoulder, shoving a thigh in between his and doing his shitty best to blanket him in lieu of a real embrace. ]
Calm down, okay, [he murmurs into keith's wet hair.] Just fucking calm down, or they'll taze you and dump you in a cell and they'll decide it's a perfect opportunity to separate us. Whatever asshole we're being presented to tonight, it's nothing we haven't done before.
[ except that turns out not to be true. they're pulled apart and attended to, their wounds dressed, their bodies oiled and prepared, clothed by servants in gaudy costume silks and loincloths, collared, 'restrained' with fine, decorative chains strung with jewels that are more annoying than anything, and brought into some kind of private chamber. the galra commander sitting on the throne is fucking sendak, of all people, and next to him is--
now it's lance's turn to grope blindly for keith's hand, edging in close to him and grabbing his arm too, for good measure.
takashi shirogane is in the room with them, dressed like one of the galra and kneeling near the chair with sendak's claws carding casually through his hair. he doesn't look like a prisoner. the white of the cyborg arm is brighter and almost looks more extensive, possibly upgraded. he doesn't look hurt or restrained or even coerced, as far as lance's shocked gaze can tell, but sendak looks smug as hell. ]
omg i forgot to hit submit BUT IM HOME NOW or well at linds' house
There are little power-plays back and forth but he doesn't keep track of them; it serves him better not to play in to them, mostly because it infuriates Sendak.
The match happens and he pays no attention; it doesn't really matter because whatever the outcome, he doesn't think this is really going to make an effect on anything. Whatever the Galran empire wants, they'll get, he's seen that first hand. Resistance is not quite futile, but it does only delay them, not stop them.
He's heard of others who fought and were successful - can remember flickers, someone telling him that he looked an awful lot like one of them and he'd almost laughed. Yeah, he supposed that the humans didn't look a whole lot like anyone else. Of course there was someone else out there who looked like him. He never paid much mind to it.
Now, after the match is over and the other humans -- other humans like him have won, he finds himself relocated with Sendak to the receiving chamber, prompted to kneel again and waits until they're brought in. There's a special kind of smugness to Sendak's tone this whole time and he's far more aggressive with his touches, but he hasn't figured out the why, yet, which is frustrating.
Patience yields focus. He remembers saying that to someone, someone important but can't recall who. It's something else to think on later.
By the time the two winners- though he uses that term dubiously - are brought out, his knees are starting to ache and he's bored. The gaudy jewels and chains they're paraded out in aren't really worthy of note; he's seen this before, though usually the presentation wasn't directed at him, exactly. There are introductions - they're Paladins, of some sort, or were which he doesn't give much thought to. Instead, he pulls away from Sendak and some small part of him relishes that Sendak looks pissed before he recovers, that smugness seeping into place. He can play nice for the Empire, for his Commanders when it makes sense, but if this is just another situation where they're going to make an example of humans in front of him, he doesn't want to see it. ]
You said they're mine?
[ There's no interest in his tone because he knows better. Any interest and there's danger - no comment, and they take it away, or worse, do something to make him show interest. He's learned, by now. Instead, he ambles closer and hates, hates this, but he knows how to play the game. He comes closer and stares a long moment when he sees the way the one grabs the other. They're friends, then. Maybe lovers, he's not sure. It doesn't matter. ]
How many fights have you won?
[ This, directed at the two of them. ]
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they aren't forced kneeling, allowed freer in times like this when their hands and mouths and bodies are of more use unbound and unrestrained. he could say that at first he pays no mind to the man kneeling at sendak's side, too overwhelmed with hate to find anything interesting about a slave boy -- but it isn't true. shiro draws his attention as he always does, his eyes wide, disbelieving, hurt and shocked and incapable of any and every emotion flooding him. pain, loss, guilt, love. by the time lance grabs him he's silently hysterical, watery eyes held laughably huge on his face, unable to look at sendak at all, or lance, or anyone else. shiro approaches and his grip gets deadly on lance's hand, fearful.
he doesn't look hurt. which is good, except everything else seems off -- it's an act it's all an act, he'll give a sign soon of an escape plan, he'll lead them, he'll come back to them. somehow keith has a hard time believing any of it, and the sharp sting of hope lost plagues lance's mind as keith exudes it, digging his fingernails into his hand. the truth is that he's known shiro was lost to them since they all lost each other -- it took finding him, looking him in the eyes, and seeing no recognition for stark reality to set in. ( a small light glimmers, regardless, and he will never let shiro go, he will never let himself be lost. ) he is the embodiment of pain, looking at shiro pleadingly, the hurt of looking at a man who used to love you and seeing -- nothing. not a thing.
keith swallows thickly. )
All of them, ( his voice is hoarse and dry, inflated with emotion. his grip loosens on lance, defeated. he's lost. ) for you, Shiro.
Please. ( it's quiet. )
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[ oh my god this is exactly what he didn't want to happen!!!!!!! keith!!!!! lance can literally feel keith's stupid little brain boiling over next to him, blurting out stupid things like shiro's name.
it hurts lance, too, to see shiro without an ounce of recognition on his face, but he's not-- this isn't the fucking time for getting punched in the face and letting everyone see it, sendak is sitting right there and sendak fucking knows who they are and also who shiro is, there's more going on here than just what they're seeing. they've got to-- they've got to keep up appearances, or something. they can't fall apart here.
which means lance can't fall apart here, and he's got to keep keith from doing the same.
he claps his hand over keith's mouth before he can say anything else stupid, dragging him to face lance and kind of... octopusing all over him like lance is trying to be decoratively seductive in front of their prospective master. the only way to keep keith from snapping and launching himself into combat is to physically prevent him so that's exactly what lance does, twining his arms around keith's shoulders and getting in between him and shiro, trying to snap keith out of his staring contest. he cuddles aggressively against keith's neck, watching shiro sharply. ]
Wow, no, nooooope, that is not true at all, it was for the glory of the Galra empire etc, definitely not for anybody in specific. [ he can't exactly kick keith in the shin while they're in front of everyone, but he snakes a hand up to pull keith's hair at the nape of his neck instead. ]
And yeah, we're undefeated. We're, uh, going for the Champion's record.
[ he has no idea what shiro's old arena record is, it's just shit coming out of his mouth. ]
i'm here for a keith sandwich with shiro as the meat tbh
A quick glance to Sendak doesn't help matters. The larger alien is impassive, watching them almost bored, now; if they were supposed to know each other, he thinks that Sendak would look concerned, maybe. Would drag him out.
This is a test, of some sort. Of his dedication to the Empire. What they want out of him isn't exactly clear, but he has to navigate it carefully, quickly, before they upend it on him again and turn it into something else. He might support what the Empire does, and might be a good commander, but that doesn't mean that he supports everything. There are parts to it that make his stomach twist, some vicious things that he can't support but from what he's seen, the order and structure the Empire brings is worthwhile, to a point.
The other one seems calmer - all the way up until he slaps a hand over the first's mouth and comes up against him. They are lovely. If it is meant as a gift - or a test, they're not bad choices. He can't remember ever really doing anything with anyone human - hasn't had the time or the inclination but he thinks he could, looking at them. If only the one wasn't looking at him like he'd gutted him.
Shiro, he'd been called. They had a name for him in Galran, of course, but for some reason that one...felt right. Better. If it made them feel better to call him that, he wasn't going to fight it, not when it was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. ]
You don't want to do that.
[ If he turns them away, he doesn't know what will happen but he knows it won't be good. He remembers his time as Champion, remembers the endless fighting and the 'rewards' and 'punishments.' Remembers the ring, the other aliens, remembers every bit of that. He might not be able to save everyone, but if he can do little things, then it's acceptable. It's made all the easier the higher he raises in the ranks, changing things from the inside bit by bit. He-- Shiro, can maybe fix this, too. ]
That took months to accomplish.
[ A glance at Sendak gets a nod and a hand out, a clear it's for you, why don't you do something. It isn't the first, or last time he's performed on command. Slowly, he moves closer, crouches in front of them and presses a hand to the first man's shoulder, thumb sliding lightly over it. His voice is too soft for Sendak to hear; it's only meant for them. English doesn't come as easily to him at first, the words rusty, but he manages after a moment. ]
You've been in other matches. This is just one more.
[ That's-- not really comforting and he seems to realize it a moment later. ]
I won't hurt you.
[ That said, he slips back and whatever conversation he has with Sendak is too quiet to hear, but full of sharp gestures on his part, a line of tension visible in his shoulders, his Galran hand fisting tightly. When it's over, Shiro's on his way back, taking the decorative leashes in hand. ]
Come on.
same tbh????
until shiro touches his shoulder and there's an honest whine behind lance's hand, furrowed eyebrows growing pleading instead of angry -- shiro remains the one person who can do this, who can turn anger in keith into healthier emotions, who tricks keith into feeling things he always represses and interprets as rage. he isn't mad about wasted time, about countless alien men who have torn their way inside him and lance alike, who have watched by while he's had his way with lance for the amusement of the spectator. he isn't mad this was for nothing, the torture and the fighting, to rescue someone who clearly doesn't need to be rescued. he isn't mad. he's just empty, hollowed out with grief. his eyes are shiny on shiro's back as he turns away, fighting against lance's hold again like he might go out and touch him, no, don't leave us again and too late, you've already hurt me.
when he collects their leashes, keith goes pliant again, roughly picking off lance's hand to interlace their fingers again, pretending like he's playing the part of someone to be consoled. he follows wherever shiro's footsteps guide them, not bothering to look back at sendak to see his smug face. )
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lance manages to edge his shoulder in front of keith while they're walking. he's not the close quarters guy and he has absolutely no illusions that he'd have any chance against shiro in a fight, but at least he's less likely to freeze up. he has to protect keith in this the way keith always protects him in the arena, and he leans in to whisper insistently in keith's ear. ]
Push him. [ through the mental link with the black lion, he means. keith seems to have the strongest psychic abilities out of all of them, except maybe allura. ] See if you can get him to feel it, we've gotta-- we've gotta see what's going on in his head. Okay? I'll distract him.
[ he would never have dared to do this while shiro had been with them as their leader, but that was six months and a lot of bullshit ago. he catches up to shiro and takes his human arm the way a girl would in the movies, pressing a lot of bare skin right up against shiro's side. ]
So you must be a big deal around here, huh?
sry i ruined public sex but shiro's STILL KINDA A NICE GUY
There's something...there, though. He doesn't know what it is, but there's a tug somewhere in his chest toward them, some sort of ringing familiarity that he can't shake when he looks at them. The name still sounds right, though. Shiro. He doesn't know their names, but thinks he doesn't want to, either. Not when they won't be around for long. He's never been gifted something like this, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they want of him. They'll still be monitoring them but at least the room gives some semblance of privacy, however small.
The darker haired one looks like he's actively crushed by the sight of him and Shiro hates it. They all do what needs done and he knows that they've both likely been through what the arena puts them through; they wouldn't have survived this long if they didn't, but he can't-- perform, not if they're that upset. Others hadn't taken any issue to that with him, but --
It doesn't matter. What matters is he's looking at them right now and he feels something and it's shaken him. ]
I might look like someone you know, but it doesn't matter after this. If it helps now, it's -- alright, but-- they'll send you to the arena again, no matter what.
[ Of course, they might not. He's not unfamiliar with the idea of pleasure slaves, solely marked for that but not with the way these two fight and move with each other. There's a reason they're paired together.
Wordless, he slides off part of the armor he wore, leaving him in the black flight suit, his arm glinting in the dim lighting. The glitter of gems catches his eye again and he blows out a frustrated breath, waving a hand at it. ]
You can take those off.
all is forgiven in the name of garbage
it'd be more painful if secondary wasn't the best keith's ever gotten, so he's accepted it in stride -- shiro has always be his number one top priority, which makes setting him to the side and making it impersonal all the more difficult. the door closes, leashes undone, and keith tunes his energy into the black lion and the connection he has with it -- the connection he and shiro share between the two of them. there are memories he focuses on, specific ones. when he and shiro first met at the academy, and keith was all eager bright eyes and wanting him too obviously. the first time they kissed, and the first time they kissed after he'd been returned from the kerberos mission. the first time keith sank into his lap and thought about never letting him go again.
he ignores the instruction, watching shiro strip instead. he takes a confident step forward. )
No, let me. ( and takes the familiar weight of his robotic arm in his hands, subtly using the connection to better influence their psychic flow -- on top of gathering shiro's fingers in his hand, lifting them up to his mouth and sucking on the pointer and middle together, slowly shutting his eyes to look more worshipful in nature, his lips spread under the thicket of two digits. )
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but then keith is moving and lance is following his lead, as ever. they're much better at it now. keith takes up shiro's cyborg hand and lance stands in his shadow, darker hands gently undoing clasps and drawing aside silks, undressing keith for the sake of their audience. it's a practiced, calculated sort of show, tracing familiar designs on keith's skin as the dangling chains chime softly and pieces of silk flutter to the ground. lance toys with the little jeweled nipple clamps on keith's chest and kisses the side of his neck, demure as a harem girl unwrapping the favorite. ]
We're not afraid of the arena, [ he answers for both of them, half acting and half completely serious. ] And we don't need to be rescued.
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He knows that Sendak will bring this up later, but he's not sure why Sendak would care past getting under Shiro's skin. Humans are humans and the Galra seem to have a special level of contempt for some of them, him being the exception, at times.
Prepared for one thing doesn't mean that he's prepared for Keith to grab his hand, slipping his fingers into his mouth. The prior version of the hand didn't have the same sensors as this one - the druids upgraded it until he and Sendak were on the same level, almost. It makes it overwhelming when those fingers slide into his mouth, heat and wet and pressure and then --
( Takashi Shirogane. Uh-- Shiro, to friends. It's nice to meet you, Keith. )
( Keith's hair sliding through his fingers, lips touching gently and then more firmly as they learned how to move around each other. )
( I missed you, I missed you, God, Keith, I'm so sorry, I'm --)
Shiro rips himself back, barely noting the way that Lance ( why does he know their names, why are they right there on the tip of his tongue, how how how-- ) starts stripping him, toying with the clamps placed on his nipples. None of that matters, because the only person who's ever been able to do that has been Zarkon, and he doesn't know why.
Hoarsely: ]
What did you do, you're -- how did you do that. Who are you.
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shiro pulls back and instinctively the arm at lance's thigh grows protective, keeping his body between lance's and shiro's. he'll never admit to being afraid of a snapping on his part, a loose thread waiting to break -- and the inevitability of their demise, stronger than the rest of them, and holding them all together. he'll fight for lance if it comes down to it, he'll fight and he'll lose, but he'll still do it.
thankfully, shiro doesn't seem to be on the offensive, and keith hesitantly eases up his stance, a gentle hand outstretched towards him. the silks that were draped elegantly around him now hover across skinny hips, threatening to fall with every step he takes closer to shiro. he doesn't touch him, not yet. )
I'm Keith. ( he tosses his head behind him. ) That's Lance. We ... we were all partners. ( there's an implication of romantic there that he doesn't correct, dropping the outstretched hand and tangling it back with the short brown hairs on lance's head. with the link clearly established he thinks it might be easier to send a direct message, like how the lions all communicate with them -- he thinks in shiro's direction, leaning in to kiss lance. he'll likely get the message too.
they're watching, you can't let them think you've seen anything. just trust me. please trust me. )
We're used to playing with each other, ( he supplements, thinking it might be easier. ) you can watch.
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keith tips his head up and lance leans down to meet his mouth, easy and practiced and in sync. he's only blushing a little bit at doing this in front of shiro. stupid, considering they've done much worse in front of the entire arena, but it's shiro. ]
Or you can tell us what you want to see, [ he adds out loud, while pushing encouragement at keith. lance hadn't established a stronger mental bond until he and keith had ended up fucking in the cockpit of the red lion, and it was much easier for him to hear and feel other people when he was touching them. dragging shiro into bed might be their best chance to get him on the right psychic radio channel. ]
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If Sendak wanted to pull another petty test, he could pass. Zarkon was the only one who could ever do that to him; if this was on behalf of him, maybe through Sendak, it would be understandable.
His face goes polite disinterested after a breath, ignoring the flicker of a whisper in his head. The wall goes up again, a practiced habit from Zarkon using the link and then Shiro turns toward the door, debating it for a moment. They could keep themselves occupied but part of him wanted to demand to know what this was. Impulsiveness would do him no good no matter how tempting; he clenches his fists and then releases them, turning back to the two. He won't let them get hurt for whatever this game is.
The chair, instead, sitting as if he weighs a few hundred pounds more than he does. They didn't ever state what he had to do to them, with them; he could watch them, finish this test and demand his answers. ]
You can do this however you normally do.
[ Look, he can be polite. The humans aren't to blame for getting caught in this mess of politics and posturing. ]
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if that's for the best, keith isn't really sure, drawing his hands around the silks of lance's garb, the flowy transparent bits and the sturdier material that falls weightless in his hands. shiro doesn't need a shock of reality, that seems too harsh, but he also doesn't need to be babied either. he needs memories, the good ones, the first time he put on the paladin suit, the time they saved shay and her planet. he needs to know that they're the good guys, not the aliens destroying the universe, one terrified planet at a time.
drawing back, the remainder of lance's sex slave clothes fall in a puddle of the floor, leaving him naked except for an under accessory of thick beads, golden and purple, bedecking his entire body with skinny chains to connect him. keith keeps him as best concealed as he can, their hips pulled flushed while, out of sight to shiro ( save for the motion of his elbow ), he strokes the sunkissed curves of his cock on top of a beaded cock cage, willing him hard. they need to touch shiro, to complete the link. he's pretty confident in that. )
You should use us, ( hie teeth grit. ) Master.
( his hand raises to cup lance's chin, opening his mouth to lick inside as seductively as he can, sucking his lower lip until it settles red and bitten. )
Whose mouth do you like more?
( he's honestly not sure if he wants it to be himself or not. )
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this definitely isn't going to work if shiro stands back away from them and refuses to get involved, and they can't just say ‘get over here and do a vulcan mind meld with us and then we'll all escape.’ he lets himself go pliant in keith's arms, making soft, needy noises for him that are only half theatrically exaggerated as his silks drop away. keith has the right idea about seducing shiro into it and he sends that through the link while they're touching. whatever keith needs to do to get shiro going is fine with him.
Make him want to fuck you, he suggests in keith's head, arching into his hands and draping his arms over keith’s shoulders. He's known you longer, you’ll be able to jog his memory better.
if lance gets aggressive with keith it might stir shiro's territorial instincts, watching his boyfriend or whatever they were submit to someone else. or maybe watching keith get toppy would rile him up better. that's probably keith's call, although lance finds himself wanting to give him an outlet for his fury and frustration.
that lasts until keith calls shiro ‘master’ and licks into his mouth and lance growls at him, grabbing his ass with both hands and spreading his cheeks where shiro can see. they're both already slick and open, lube glistening on the insides of their thighs. he slides a hand down and strokes a single finger over keith’s twitching little furl, locking eyes with shiro as he does. he's half hard thanks to keith grinding all over him, even if he can't do anything about it thanks to the cages they’re both locked in. ]
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From there, they'd kept to something simple, the purple shirt for when he was fighting in the ring, the black bodysuit for day to day. It's been -- not ages but a while since he had to service anyone, anyway.
It's hard to stay trapped in his own head with them in front of him, though. He might have shut Keith out of his mind, but his eyes still work and they're still gorgeous. Trap or not, they look familiar, they look lovely despite the situation they're in. They're angry, too, not despondent or panicking, which Shiro's strangely grateful for. Anger, he knows how to deal with. ]
I'm not your master.
[ It's reflex, at this point, the distaste in his tone all the more evident when coupled with the way he grimaces and glances away. The Galran soldiers in his command, he'd never told them to call him Master, though Sendak tried to encourage it mostly for his own discomfort. General, Commander, those were better options but he's not going to have them call him that, either. Shiro he hears, and hates that it sounds as right as it does.
They do know how to put on a show, though; there's genuine want there, and it's clear they've done this before, performed for someone. There's luck in that; some of them were happy enough watching a show rather than participating.
When Lance grabs at Keith's ass, spreads him open and Shiro catches the slick on the curve of his thighs, against the soft rose of his hole, he has to push a hand down against where his dick twitches, interested. The cages are -- god, he hasn't seen one of those in a while, either and he huffs out a breath, rising and stalking toward them. ]
Step back.
[ He doesn't address it at either one - it's a general order said with the understanding they'd obey him either way. Once they separate, he goes to his knees in front of Keith, tugging the ridiculous material out of the way until he gets access to the cock cage and glances up at him. ]
I wouldn't move.
[ It's a simple enough thing to press one finger to the metal of the cage, a pulse of heat and he twists it just so, careful not to hurt him. The cage falls loose in Shiro's hand and he tosses it to a corner of the room before turning to Lance, angling to do the same. ]
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he's needy under the grip of lance's hand, but whether that's from his own emotions ( which he conceals, does his best to cover up ) or the talent residing in lance's fingers is up in the air -- he's breathless of full of whines that meet the open air between them and shiro, curving his hip prettily to look better. he still flushes under the knowledge that shiro is watching this happen, letting this happen, not minding. it's probably disgusting of keith for him to want him to get jealous, and he apologizes for that to lance as soon as he thinks it, kissing his forehead and his upper lip. he doesn't mean it, any of it. it's just business as usual.
there's hesitance to obey the instruction from shiro, but it doesn't take commanding officer and wanton sex slave for him to do as he's told, not when it's coming from shiro's handsome mouth, not when he's bent down on his knees before keith's naked form. he doesn't move -- but he does grip lance's wrist in a brief panic, the light of shiro's arm eliciting an unfathomable fear inside of keith. it's newer than before, more alien and scary, more capable of worse things, and now it's poised at his cock, ripping the cage off. it doesn't hurt at all -- he's being careful. he doesn't want to hurt them.
there have been more than a few galran commanders who have enjoyed getting on their knees, just to bite roughly at the tips of their cocks and tug on their balls uncomfortably, to get them to squirm and tear up. keith doesn't want that, now sure that shiro doesn't either. somewhat girlishly, he lets himself fall in shiro's lap, a hand wrapped loosely around lance's now free cock tugging him closer. )
I want you, Shiro. ( he says, mastered in the art of seduction. his voice is low, his eyelashes fluttered. he can't force himself on him, but he can give him some kind of sensual lubrication, guiding lance's cock over more to press his lips at the head of it, not missing in finesse as he tongues against the slit, milking him barely. he presses his cheek against the shaft, murmuring: ) Please. Help us. We need you.
( if there's one thing he can appeal to, it's definitely shiro's bleeding heart. )
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and okay wow, w o w, that is shiro ripping off the cages with his upgraded cyborg arm and lance definitely doesn't make a concerned squeaking noise when his is ripped away, although he can't deny that his cock jumps to fully hard at the implied danger because he's a terrible person. keith drapes himself all over shiro and then there's soft lips mouthing at his cock and he goes wherever keith wants him. ]
They don't let us go back to the cells unless we're ridden hard and put away wet. [ it's the first shit that comes into his head, and he can't even wince at how terrible it sounds. nobody is allowed to hold anything he says against him while there's a mouth on his dick. ]
It's you or it'll be somebody else that we're given to. [ and softer, his hand tangling in keith's hair, ] Shiro.
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Whatever they did to get caught in the crossfire must have been something bad, to be put between him and the Empire. ]
I know.
[ He's been in their position. Keith slithers into his lap so easily, looking at him through his lashes, reaching for Lance's cock like it's second nature at this point. They're both practiced at it and he hates that, too, hates that he knows how it works, knows the game they have to play. Keith mouths at the wet tip of Lance's cock and Shiro's mouth waters, thinking about it.
It's filthy, sure, but he wants badly enough that he doesn't care and his cock reminds him it's been ages since he's done anything with anyone else, but there's good reason for that. Frustrated, Shiro gropes at Keith's hips and tugs him in to let him grind against the thick, fat swell of Shiro's cock in his pants, glancing at the two of them. ]
I won't leave you for them.
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he grinds more, regardless, less seductive and more ... curious. has it always felt that way? )
It's ... ( weird, different, lance they did something else to him. ) big. ( bigger, he means, but shiro can't remember that much. it's not like he was lacking before. keith shudders to think why he might've gotten some strange upgrade on his cock and clenches shiro tighter because of it, a hand sifting through the hair at the back of his head, affectionate and reassuring. he thinks he might actually sob if he kisses shrio, so instead he opts to guide his head over and towards lance's erection, mouthing eagerly at the side of it while giving shiro enough room to indulge himself. )
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whaaaaat the fuck.
of course it's impossible to get a better view while keith is busy grinding on his lap, getting shiro's black uniform shiny and messy with lube. lance kind of wants to shove him off and take his place, even though he's happy to slide his aching, swollen cock down keith's throat and let him massage it.
keith's memories had painted shiro as well-endowed anyway. lance feels his mouth go dry at the prospect of something bigger (something alien? can the galra even do that?), but it's not out of fear. they've seen plenty of weird shit during their captivity here. his dick twitches visibly against keith's lips and he leans down suddenly, daring to be bolder than the other boy, and pushes his tongue inside shiro's mouth in a bossy, aggressive offensive, lifted directly from some of keith's schoolboy memories and/or fantasies.
he pulls back immediately, flushing deeply and looking shocked at his own audacity for a second before covering it up with a cocksure smirk. ]
You think you're gonna scare us? Come on, mister bigshot Galra commander. [ he sends a little pulse of apology through the link to keith for that, even though it's clearly what shiro believes right now. he thinks he's one of them, and maybe there's a reason for it. ]
Show us what you got.
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It takes Keith's comment to realize that they're going to see what the Galra have done and for a moment an apology lingers on the tip of his tongue, but their response isn't -- it isn't fear, or terror, or anything like what he expects. Keith touches him like he wants to comfort him, a hand in his hair, his mouth sliding wet over the wet curve of Lance's dick, the invitation clear. Between the grinding and the reaction from the two of them, there's a chance they might not run the other direction. They haven't seen anything yet, though, which means they don't really understand it yet.
At least if he reveals it now, they'll have time to finish each other off, to stop this and decide what they want to do. Even Lance's nonchalant, challenging tone isn't enough to convince him fully, but he does allow the kiss, does reach a hand to fist it in Lance's hair and kisses him like he's trying to prove a point, harsh and wet and filthy.
When he pulls back, it's to hook his fingers in the material of his pants, the belt discarded. The thin material that passes for briefs is peeled back too, and his cock just up against his belly. Whatever they did to graft it, or change it - he's not sure how it happened, just that it did - means that it's far from human. It's still clearly a penis, but the color is off, softer purples and pinks, the precome beading at the tip a soft lavender.
One hand drops down and curls around himself, giving it one firm stroke, enough to wring a punched-out noise from himself, because he so rarely touches himself if he can help it, hating it. ]
You can still leave.
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he hates it but doesn't soon let it show, drawing his gaze and body lower. it's a galran cock, same as any of the others he's seen -- purpley and spotted in strange places, with ridges that are weird and foreign to a human eye. it's big, though, mouthwatering and huge, and if his initial thought is disgust that this happened to him at all, the second is excitement and intrigue. he wants to lick up that lavender straight from the source, smear it across his lips.
setting to do that, his naked form wriggles down shiro's, hand curving on top of his at his cock to shoo it away, feeling out the shape of it. on his hands and knees he shudders to lick the tip of it, making a soft needy sound to the head before he envelopes the crown, sucking him dry. his eyes flicker upwards to meet shiro's, sinking his head down lower -- he gags halfway down and stays there instead of pushing himself further, red lips spread wide across a purple cock, eyes squinted but never closed. )
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[ jesus, okay, fine, shove him out of the way and off shiro's mouth, and lance immediately glares at his partner, ready to snipe at him, but then there's shiro dick and oh, okay, okayyy. that sure is not a human penis. that sure is... ridged and studded and oozing a color that should never come out of a human body, and maybe lance would have hesitated a little bit over it, probably, because it's very big and very flexible and is it moving? like on its own? but keith of course shoves his stupid fucking head right down there and puts his mouth on it, which tosses any other chance to react out the fucking window. of course captain cliff jumper isn't going to hesitate over putting a giant purple galra penis in his mouth, it's attached to shiro and that's all he needs. and maybe seeing keith without any hesitation is all lance needs, too.
it's a perfect opportunity for lance to go back to kissing shiro, actually, which had been very, very nice and almost enough for him to forget that they were doing this under duress, that maybe shiro wasn't so madly, insanely in love with keith that there would never been room for him to look at anybody else, that maybe lance could be the one to call his memories back to the surface, but he can't do any of that, because he is knotting his fingers in keith's stupid hair and pulling him back off shiro's cock before he suffocates himself on it. ]
You're gonna choke, you stupid asshole. [ and to shiro, nettled, ] Nobody here is afraid of your dick, okay.
[ he drops to his knees, glaring at keith, and angles shiro's cock into his own mouth instead like he's trying to play keep away, but then his eyes are suddenly wide with the strange sweet taste of it, the hard growths under his tongue that invite him to rub over them. whatever's leaking from the crown isn't bitter or salty at all. it tastes like a thick honey glaze and he immediately finds himself suckling at the head, trying to get more of it. ]
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