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Two Shadows Went 6

Updated: Apr 12, 2019

Lance couldn't stay gone forever. It was already evening when he had collapsed into the Blue lion. A few hours later and even Blue was nudging him to return to his room. It was soft urging, a hummed reminder of the still beating bond between Shiro and he. And from the bond, what Lance could feel of it — everything going on around them hadn’t effected it. It was possibly stronger. Lance felt like it was a tight interlaced cable anchoring him to Shiro. Lance would have to face Shiro sooner or later and Blue made it clear Lances best option was to make it sooner.

So when Lance entered their quarters he was startled to find Shiro. He sat on the bed, narrow eyes staring at Lance. The room was dark except for a small side lamp on in their entry way.

Lance turned away as he lightly shut their door, securing it as he took a deep breath and turned.

“Shiro…” Lance trailed as he stepped into their main sitting room.

Shiro was already up off the bed and his bare feet made thumping footsteps as he charged straight to Lances direction meeting him half way.

“I —“ Lance wasn’t sure what he was gonna say, what there was to even say.

But he never got a chance, the moment Shiro was in range of Lance he ducked and slammed their mouths together.

Startled, Lance sputtered out a cry only to have it swallowed as Shiro pulled at Lance’s jacket, backing them up into the bedroom.

Lance whined but did as he was urged. Following Shiro into the room, His fingers curled into the black long sleeve training shirt Shiro wore.

Shiro was smashing his lips to Lances again, in another hungry kiss. His breath was ragged and audible as he nipped across Lance’s lips before smoothing them together again.

Letting his eyes flick closed, Lance could smell the sweat from Shiro. He could smell something else though something that made him gag…

At the jerk from Lance, Shiro pulled away.

Lance looked down at their carpet, the smell, now that he’d identified it left a coppery tang in his mouth. He pressed the back of his hand over his lips.

“You did it your self, didn’t you?” Lance as always couldn’t seem to stem the stream of words that flowed from his mouth around Shiro. “You — you cut them off your self.”

Shiro just hummed, his voice low as he stepped back closer to Lance, this time his hands were insistent in the same way his lips had been just a moment ago. His hands slid under Lance’s jacket starting to push it down and away from his shoulders.

Letting it happen, Lance held his arms out to accommodate. It was a strong hand at his throat, forcing him to look up that finally drew his attention back to Shiro. His pupils were blown, leaving Shiro’s eyes dark, bottomless pits. Lance couldn’t make any emotion out as Shiro swooped in again and they were kissing. The wet clicking of their tongues molding together made Lance whine. His hands shook as they went to Shiro’s arm. He still held Lance by the throat, like an empty threat, it was just there, not hurting Lance not even rubbing a thumb or finger against his glands tucked under his jaw, just holding him in Shiro’s range. Lances fingers curled around Shiro’s thick arm as he tried to drag in breath in between the fevered meeting of their lips.

The kiss broke with another wet sound, Shiro slid another step closer, his chest rumbling with a sound Lance recognized only faintly…

He sucked in a breath as he realized—

Shiro was giving him an Alpha call.

It was a mating call essentially. Low and thumping through his chest it was the deepest thing Lance had ever heard. The roiling chuff sound rippled through Lance’s veins in a way that made him shiver. It was almost like a booming sound.

He’d never expected.

Shiro released Lance’s throat, his hands shifting and going to the hem of Lance’s shirt.

Lance didn’t even have a chance to protest before Shiro was pulling the shirt up. Gasping as Shiro pulled the shirt over his head, Lance looked to his Alpha. His hands were held in the shirt still, suspended over his head.

Those eyes were so dark.

Lance winced as Shiro fisted his hand in the shirt, binding Lance’s hands over his head.

Shiro ducked his head, moving in slower this time, with his mouth open, and wet tongue peeking just slightly in his mouth. When Lance looked to him, he was startled by deep, black eyes still looking at him as Shiro slowly moved in to kiss him again, bending to be at a perfect eye level with Lance, holding him captive by looking him square in the eye as he pressed in a kiss.

It was a short kiss, Shiro just pressed in a soft, hungry motion of his lips over Lance’s tumbling lips. He didn’t taint it farther before he straightened, and matter of factly removed Lances shirt completely, letting it fall to the wayside.

Towering over Lance in his straight-backed militarily perfect posture Lance felt like he was almost being appraised as Shiro regarded him.

Lance nervously rubbed his hand up over his other arm, averting his eyes from the scrutiny.

He wasn’t allowed the slouched, inward leaning posture for long though as Shiro pulled his hands away, directing them out to just naturally fall away from him at his sides.

Shiro was continuing to appraise, his dark eyes roving over Lance’s skin before starting to kiss and nip at Lance’s collar bone.

His face was so impassive, so stone cold, Lance wasn’t even sure if Shiro actually enjoyed what he was doing. It wasn’t like it was before. Lance felt too nervous to talk, too nervous to even move. He didn’t—the last thing he ever wanted was to displease this man.

Hesitant, Lance raised his hand and smoothed it over Shiro’s head. The soft hair smoothed under Lance’s hand as Shiro sucked a bruise on the peak of Lance’s collar bone. Figuring it must be alright since Shiro was allowing the touch, Lance raised his other hand, this one sliding to Shiro’s shoulder and over the hulking mounded cap of his shoulder. The shirt was soft, cottony feeling, over the hard definition of Shiro’s flesh underneath.

It startled Lance when Shiro looked up at him. Lance’s breath was ragged, his throat felt dry and he blinked a lot, trying to keep his vision focused.

“Uhhh…” Lance let out in a whine as his gaze locked with Shiro’s own pitch black one. The room was just so quiet, it made hime feel like there needed to be something said.

He was silenced by Shiro though as he scooped in for another kiss, deep and hungry still. His eyes flicked closed this time.

Lance whined but squeezed his own eyes closed as his fidgety hands fell to Shiro’s chest as they kissed.

Shiro broke and tipped his head, pressing their foreheads together as he looked down. Lance couldn’t really do the same.

He flicked his gaze down though, seeing his shallow chest expand and retract with every breath.

It made Lance feel so — He tried to cover up again, crossing his arms and holding them tight against himself. “It’s cold.” He tried to say, hoping Shiro would take the excuse.

But Shiro was already there, brushing his hands away.

“Control,” Shiro’s voice boomed.

Around them the light blue strip of the palace’s system lined the top corner of the walls, alerting the occupants that it was listening.

“Turn the heat up to 75 for the next 2 hours.” Shiro commanded.

There was a single wink of the lights, signaling it was a confirmed command.

“That’s all.”

The lights flicked off and left the two of them in the dim room alone again. Distantly, Lance heard the small whirling noice as the heater clicked on in the vents.

Shiro, gave another low, drumming, booming chuff over Lance. It was more contented this time, less urgent but it was so close to Lance’s ear, his forehead still pressed to Shiro’s. It caused him to shiver again.

Long fingers were hooking in the waistband of Lance’s pants then.

“Remove your shoes.” The order was said so emotionless, Lance paled a bit.

“Shiro,” he wined, trying to tip his head to look at him. His hand slid from Shiro’s chest, grasping at Shiro’s wrist.

“Take them off.” Shiro just persisted.