• Pitchgold

Two Shadows Went 6

Updated: Apr 13, 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.


This time, Lance followed his orders and turned his head away so he could see as he reached down to his soft leather boots. He shucked one off before he noticed Shiro had taken advantage of the turn of Lance’s head.


Lance could hear the delicious sound of Shiro licking his lips before he was leaning in, his breath hot over Lance’s skin as he pressed his tongue over Lance’s bond mark in a long, slow lick.


“Ohhhhh,” Lance keened, he stumbled forward involuntarily, half tripping over his only shoed foot and half from the weak-kneed feeling that racked through him.


Shiro used the stumble though to finish with Lance’s trousers, dropping them to his ankles.


“Step out of them.” Shiro ordered.


Drowsily lidded eyes blinked before Lance gave a nod. He finished his first task, hearing a thud as his other boot dropped to the floor before he tried to wiggle his feet from the pants now awkwardly hooking his feet together.


Abruptly Lance was picked up, Shiro’s metal hand hooking under his ass and lifting him so Shiro could reach down with his other hand and shuck the pants from his feet.


“Thank you,” Lance murmured as he realized he was immersed in Shiro’s arms. He could smell that deep dark roasted cardamom scent and the musk of his Alpha pheromones, Shiro was starting to smell — spiced, like cloves and cardamom. He could feel Shiro’s heat. Lance nuzzled insistently to get his head in against Shiro’s neck. It felt so wonderful to be in his Alpha’s arms at that moment.


The low rumbling chuff in Lance’s ear was the only warning Lance got before Shiro was turning, still lifting Lance up — and threw him face-down onto the bed.


It snapped Lance out of his fog as he found himself splayed across their bed. He scrambled up onto his arms and promptly blushed—How in the world had Shiro manipulated Lance into only his boxer briefs. The purply, galaxy blue fabric was—embarrassingly form fitting Lance realized as he looked over his shoulder at his own rump.


“Hey—“ Lance started up.


But as always, Shiro paid him no mind as he approached the bed. With an inhale, Shiro lifted his arms and slipped his own tight fitting shirt up and off, setting it to the side of the bed before he reached to Lance.


Lance was blushing so furiously he wasn’t sure how Shiro found him even remotely attractive. Then a metal hand grasped his ankle.


Lance knew what was coming and dug his fingers into the bed, “No, wait—“


Shiro wasn’t listening though as he hauled Lance to him, Ass up and bare to him over the bed.


Lance opened his mouth but then Shiro’s hands were smoothing up his back. Shiro pressed his palm in again on the way back down.


“uhhh” Lance’s inhale was audible as his eyes rolled back and his neck arched. “Yesssss.”


The long drown out word brought out a rumbling chuckle. Shiro’s real hand pressed in more firmly as it smoothed a fluid line up Lance’s spine.


It felt amazing. Lance wasn’t sure if he was going to sag into the bed or curl into up-dog in effort to follow that hand further.


There was another sweep down, Shiro pressing just his fingers this time, one on either side of Lance’s spine, sliding them down effortlessly and leaving Lance a twitching, keening mess.


His toes curled and uncurled, his lips trembling as he closed his eyes, hand fisting in the covers.


“Yes,” Was all he could manage at the moment. “yes, Alpha.”


“Shiro,” the correction was light, not scolding in its tone as Shiro lined himself directly behind Lance.


Lance frantically nodded. “Shiro,” he panted.


Shiro’s broad hands traced over Lance’s lower back, just lazily smoothing over his skin without the intention of activating Lance’s glands this time. At least until both hands came up, framing Lance’s waist.


Hazily, Lance registers that that’s — His eyes open. Down there, the glands down there…


He turned just as Shiro was sliding his hands down, forming them to his shape and down farther, cupping his hands over Lance’s hips and his thumbs rest just at the dimples over Lance’s ass.


“Wait—“ Lance tried to reach behind himself.


But he was too slow and Shiro swiped his thumbs up.


In half a second, Lance’s upper body hits the bed and he was pointing his ass up, presenting as hard as he could up to his Alpha, his mind lost in the thick haze blown in. He bit his lips and crooned as Shiro repeated the action.


It was an intense rush to his system, feeling his shoulders shake and his limbs barely hold him up as he tried to push himself back into his Alpha. He wasn’t touching Lance after all, why wan’t he touching him more? Lance needed more!


Shiro didn’t even seem to notice, keeping his little omega trapped between his framing hands, he held Lance still.


“So pretty for me,” Shiro’s deep voice was like an arrow strummed across Lance’s nerves.


He tried to crane his head to look back. “Really?” he asked. His Alpha called him pretty? It's true, right? Lance was doing a good job. He was being good for his Alpha.


The dark eyes that flicked up to meet his own were still so unreadable as Shiro gave Lance an expression for the first time that night. The slightest of smiles spread before he nodded. “Very pretty.”


Shiro hunched over Lance, his hands not leaving their spot as his eyes slid closed. His breath was still so warm on Lance’s skin and it’s at his lower back, ghosting over the soft sensitive flesh there before — Shiro smoothed his tongue over the bottom of his spine.


Lance practically howled in adoration.


It was utterly blissful.


Shiro continued to lapse up his spine before his thumbs started to move again. Rubbing deep continuous circles in against the glands at Lance’s coccyx, it reduced Lane to a trembling mess on the bed.


Things like, “Please,” and “Yes,” and the continuous mantra of, “Shiro,” were all tumbling out of his mouth as Lance sagged into the bed. He tried desperately to keep himself upright, pressing his hands into the covers fervently but his shaking limbs gave out before he could even push himself up. He knew there was no hope as Shiro kept up his journey, kissing and licking his way up Lance’s spine.


The bed creaked as Shiro finally crawled on, trapping Lance’s legs between his own and further holding him down as his mouth finally reached between his shoulder blades.


Whining, Lance felt like a raw bundle of nerves, every touch, every sensation hitting through him so hard. His hands fisted again in the covers, tearing at them as he whined again between pants.


There was something else too, a sensation as Lance moved his hips, he blinked past the confusion to realize—he was wet. He was very wet. Slick was pooling in his boxer briefs.


There was one more firm press of Shiro’s thumbs down on the glandes at his hips before Shiro was completely over him, his nose skimming up on the glands, rubbing against the one’s at the back of Lance’s neck.


“This is where they tried to grab you,” Shiro’s voice indicated it wasn’t a question.


But Lance answered anyway. “Yes,” He wasn’t sure what was happening but suddenly he felt like he was on the brink of tears. “I’m so sorry.” He whined. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I tried to keep them off.”


Shiro’s teeth nipped hard over the back of Lance’s neck with another chuffed growl this time. His hands finally left Lance’s hips, His metal hand came up, tracing a delicate line up over Lance’s throat, trailing all the way to the tip of his chin, tipping Lance’s neck to arch back and present his bare throat to Shiro.


“It’s all right, my prince.” Shiro spoke in Lance’s ear. “I’d never blame you.” He pressed a kiss in over Lance’s earlobe.


Lance wasn’t sure he could maintain the position. He felt like he was caught between a breakdown and a revelry. He pushed on the mattress, arching more back into his Alpha.


“Good boy,” Shiro’s awarded praise felt like syrupy, liquid gold running through Lance.


“Yes,” Lance murmured again.


“You’ve done so well for me,” Shiro continued to shower him.


Lance nodded as best he could, pressed between Shiro and the metal hand holding him arched, fingers splayed over his throat, possessive in the way a thumb pressed into one gland and around on the other side a cold black metal finger stroked over Lance’s bond mark.


He sucked in so sharp as his vision felt like it tunneled. ///Alpha. He was here for his Alpha.


“Yes,” Lance crooned. “for you, Alpha.”


“Shiro,” the correction was purred.


Lance nodded shortly again. “Shiro.”


“I’m the only Alpha you will ever submit to in your entire life.” Shiro’s voice dipped darkly into a growl. “You’ll only ever be like this for me.”


“Yes,” Lance practically begged. Every part of him wanted to melt back into Shiro. He was ///his. They belonged to each other. Shiro would always protect Lance, would always keep him warm and safe and close. Lance wanted nothing more. “Just you,”


“Good boy,”


Oh, that felt like warm caramel pouring over his skin. Slightly sticky and gooey in a way Lance loved. His eyes rolled back with the praise. It rolled over him warm and sugary sweet and sooo goooodddd.


Shiro was curling over him as well. His hand at his throat rescinded just a bit, still holding him at his mercy but now, Shiro could lean his head in, and a long tongue swiped up against Lance’s bond mark.


Lance hummed a moan, his hand striking up, his fingers threading in Shiro’s hair.


Around his front though Lance was vaguely aware of Shiro’s flesh and blood hand tracing over Lance’s abdomen. He was made aware of it as Shiro’s fingers dipped in the boxer briefs and slid in.


Lance gasped as warm fingers slid over his cock. He —he hadn’t even realized, his focus had been on literally every other sex organ but Lance’s cocklet was hard and full and swelling even more in Shiro’s hand.


It was more teasing, the way Shiro played with the cocklet, running his fingers over it and lightly, loosely pumping it occasionally. The squelch and wet squish made Lance realize he’d just released more slick, it was trailing down his thighs, smearing over their bed covers probably.


As much as he could in his Alpha’s grasp, he writhed against Shiro.


Shiro rumbled over him, his mouth suckling against the mark, in fevered motions. He pushed up and for the first time slid his own neck against Lance, rubbing his own primar glands over Lances.


Lance bucked his hips back into Shiro—only Shiro ground down hard into him.


And Lance’s eyes got wide. That was—oh Lance could feel it at the cleft of his ass, it was still clothed in the harsh fabric of Shiro’s pants. But oh it’s—a knot. A knot meant for Lance.


The whine that leaked from his lips was pathetic, but he didn’t know if he could voice anything now.


Shiro was panting over him now, his hand was pushing farther down Lance’s boxer briefs, his fingers were moving past Lance’s cocklet, sliding away from it through the slick. The first touch was so gentle it had Lance keening again.


Only sliding one finger through the slick, Shiro nudged at the mark more insistent.


Lance didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted to give it to him though. What ever it is, he could pull it from Lance all he liked. He was his Alpha. In that moment, Lance wanted to do anything for his Alpha.


“Alpha,” Lance slapped a hand over his mouth as he uttered it. His eye’s going wide as it dawned on him.


Theres was a rumbled chuckle that turned to a full blown growl. “It’s a work in progress, lovely” His teeth skimmed over the mark in earnest.


Lance was too lost though as Shiro finally slid a finger in him, not even going terribly deep just enough. The nudging of Lance’s channel felt like it released liquid nitrogen in his veins—


“Nahhhhhhgg!!” Lance let out, his hips bucked wildly, seeking any friction and his vision exploded white as he clutched horribly, fisting his hand in Shiro’s hair and his nails tear into the pillow at his other hand—


When his hips finally stoped, Lance felt like every ounce of himself had just been drained out of him with his orgasm.


“Uhhhhnn,” Lance whining moan broke off as he collapsed in to the bed.


Shiro over him was already on the move, he nudged and handled Lance onto his stomach, sliding his hand out from Lance’s underwear. With a tug though, he had Lance’s underwear jerked down, not enough to pool at his thighs, just enough to reveal his plump ass, Shiro sat back on Lance’s thighs, still trapping Lance’s legs.


Lance felt so utterly spent he barely registered any thing until he heard the rustle of clothing. He blinked, trying to manage a simpler breath pattern as he managed to get up on his elbows.


It’s then, something heavy and long settled over Lance’s ass. Lance craned his neck back.


It’s like he was looking at the sculpture of a god.


Shiro’s own breath appeared ragged as he ran a slick hand down his lower abdomen and down his cock. His cock which was resting just at the cleavage of Lance’s ass. His eyes felt blown as he looked over it. It was defiantly proportionate, and heavy, flushed a dark color.


Shiro pressed his slick hand over it, smooshing the cock in against Lance’s ass. And his slick hand—it was slick from Lance’s…


The fog was receding fast now that Lance had been satisfied. He was aware of so much more, as the hormones finally started to clear his head. He also picked up the distinct smell of another fog. It was Alpha musk and it had drenched the room. It was all dark scents of roasted coffee beans and cloves.


Thrusting experimentally, Shiro gave a throaty groan. His cock was an angry red and leaked out a gushing lump of precum across the cleft of Lance’s lower back. Shiro pressed his hand down further before he started to really thrust.


Lance swallowed.


It wasn’t much sound, but it’s enough to catch Shiro’s attention.


Pitch black eyes flicked up under a lowered brow to Lance’s face. They narrowed on him as he gave a ragged breath.


Lance’s hand in the covers started to curl again. He turned away, thinking he’d just ride it out before Shiro surged that metal hand forward, pinning Lance’s head into the pillow.


“Lance,” It was uttered so low, Lance can barely make out the word from the growl.


“Shiro,” Now that his head was clear, it was easier for Lance to get it out.


His only answer was the rock of the bed underneath them as Shiro gave a powerful thrust, threading his cock between Lance’s ass cheeks and the hand holding him down. It was immediately followed by another thrust and another.


Shiro threw his head back as he worked into a dominating possessive rhythm, his metal hand threading through Lance’s hair, pressing him down more into the pillow.


The speed picked up then, hitched with Shiro’s thrusts, almost frantic.


Lance fought to hold back a cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to curl his arms in around the pillow he pressed into.


When Shiro stopped. still panting and feral he released Lance and mounted on his hands and knees over him as his hand went to his cock.


Free to move again, Lance peeked up over his shoulder.


Shiro pumped himself at a frantic pace, his eyes were crammed shut and his face contorted till—


The growl that ripped through the room sent Lance’s head spinning.


White glops of seed dripped from Shiro’s cock, dropping onto the small of Lance’s back. Lance’s eyes dilated possibly further as he tried to get a better look with out moving too much.


Shiro kept milking himself very deliberately painting it all across Lance’s back. Lance swallowed, looking back—through Shiro’s fingers he could make out—Shiro had knotted. The bulge at the base of his cock a cherry red as Shiro pushed out any remnants of his seed.


When he was done, the room fell quiet.


Lance stayed still. Not sure what Shiro wanted from him in that moment.


Then a hand moved across his back. It was finally gentle this time, finally the touch Lance remembered from his Alpha. The light skimming over Lance’s over stimulated glands sent him trembling again, but it was just cautionary, leaving no lingering touches.


The only sound in the room was Shiro’s deep breathing as his fingers dipped into the seed and started to smear it up and down Lance’s back.


It finally clicked then.


Lance was being scent marked. He breathed in fully and he could smell it. Shiro had rubbed his own glands over his, and now he was pushing it further, coving Lance in his smell.


Leaning down, Shiro pressed his lips to the peak of one of Lance’s shoulders as he continued. He rubbed the seed into Lance’s skin continuously, a lot like he was rubbing oil in after a massage.


It was slow and Lance armed the pillow under himself as he relaxed into the mattress.


There was more trailing kisses along his shoulders and neck as Shiro’s hand kept going, kept rubbing his seed all over Lance, from the tip of his shoulders down and over his ass.


Finally, Lance knew it was done when Shiro raised his hand to Lance’s face.


Presented with it so close — Lance knew what Shiro wanted.


He just — now that he was here, about to do it...


He swallowed, hopping it tasted better than he imagined and started to lick any excess from Shiro’s hand. It was salty and didn’t taste as horribly as it could have. Lance still winced and had to close his eyes to continue.


“That’s good,” Shiro whispered into Lance’s hair, gifting a kiss to Lance’s ear again. “Clean it all up.”


Lance tried as best he could, even wrapped his own hand around Shiro’s broad palm and directing it closer.


Just as he wondered at what point he was finished, Shiro pulled his hand away. He leaned in to give another peck at Lance’s cheek before in a display of upper body strength Lance did not have in him at that moment, Shiro pushed up over him and climbed off the bed.


Shiro first hooked a finger in the rumpled mess of Lance’s underwear and pulled them all the way off. With a bit of squirming he had his off as well. He waved his hand for the light to flick off before digging out the covers he prowled back to Lance, sliding them both under the sheets.


Lance wasn't sure what he expected as Shiro slid next to him, but it certainly wasn't--


Shiro pulled Lance back into him and his hand was at Lance's chin, turning his head as Shiro hunched over him and engulfed him in a dizzying knee knocking kiss.


Humming his surprise, Lance's hand came up, his fingers digging into Shiro's scalp as he tried to steady himself in the kiss.


It broke off slowly, Shiro's mouth claiming smaller and smaller kisses from Lance's lips before left panting, before he tipped Lance's head back and again, pushed his jaw up and rubbed his own neck across Lances, the shivering feeling of being marked, dizzying Lances senses.


Shiro didn't prolong it though and pulled back, leaning down on his elbows. Lance was finally met with the stormy gaze of his Alpha.


"That-- you could have just asked. You didn't need to take it from me like that." Lance's brow furrowed.


Shiro wasn't directly looking at him. but Lance could still see the way his eyes shifted, see his careful narrow gaze. What ever reason had left him that night had returned, and Shiro's hands slowly moved down Lance's skin, tracing over his front and dipping to the valley of his trim waist.


"I don't like being used. I'm used all the time. I don't like it when you do it." Lance pressed. He even leaned up to kiss at Shiro's still lips, softly, a different brand of affection than had been passed between them yet. "I thought that -- do you doubt I'm yours?"


"I-" Shiro stalled. "I don't find fault in you."


"Than why did you do that?" Lance shot back. "Why take it out on me, when you knew this is something I would have just given to you. I'm fine to be marked by you, I'm not so keen on you shoving me down to do it."


Lance could see the way the muscles in Shiro's jaw jumped. A successful blow landed.


"They need to know," Shiro said very quietly. "Your smell isn't of me. And they all know it. None of this would have happened if I had made it clear before hand that there were boundaries, that you were a piece of me. "


Lance shifted. "Is it because it was Iso's men?"


Shiro stayed quiet.


"You can't be quarreling with another Paladin." Lance said exasperated. "And I like it even less if you used me in a quarrel with him."


There was more silence.


"You told me, the world could be fucked, for all their opinion was worth." Lance pointed out. He voice was keen and sharp.


Shiro blinked again, his eye still unfocused on Lance, as his hands moved over the soft parts of Lance he'd so callously revealed.


"I'm not--" Shiro started again. He frowned.


"I thought it was us against them," Lance made his case again.


That lifted the Black Paladin's gaze. steady stormy grey eyes looked onto Lance.


"We don't need their opinions," Lance said very fondly, his hand brushing through Shiro's hair.


"I know." Shiro's voice was much louder this time. but he held Lance's gaze stead. "But I need their respect."


Lance stilled.


Of course. Lance was still a chess piece in all of this. A Black Paladin that couldn't mount his mate was--Lance so dearly hated this game.


Lance shook his head, "I didn't want this to happen like that."


And he could see the first small crack in his Alpha's express, the way his brow knit together.


"I needed this," Shiro answered. "I needed to--" His hand smoothed up Lance's neck and so gently cupped Lance's face. "I do doubt that you're mine."


It was lance this time that surged up into Shiro, pressing his lips over Shiro's, drawling out a growled humm. It was Lance that lingered in the kiss before he slowly pulled away.


"I'm yours." Lance whispered as he broke the kiss but connected their foreheads.


"For how long?" Shiro breathed in a pure moment of honesty. "For how long till your sister needs more capital and the only way yo get it is through you?"


Lance blinked, trying to think past the raging feeling of--kindredness with his mate suddenly. "I don't belong to them," Lance murmured. "I love my family and my home, but I agreed to this, and I have no regrets."


Shiro's griping Lance was suddenly fiercely, his arms constricting around him and holding him tighter, closer. "You've already confessed your regret saying yester--"


"Not to you," Lance jumped in.


Shiro's breath was on him, warm and inviting.


So as Lance spoke again he leaned into it, speaking against Shiro's lips. "I regret giving into my sister. " lance blinked, hoping Shiro would look to him again. "I regret giving in."


There was a quiet moment. "This wasn't about giving in."


Of course not. Lance could even tell that. It was about assertion.


"You're no less than my father," Lance spoke.


Shiro's eyes finally did focus back on Lance. "I won't treat you like your father does," Shiro's tone dipped suddenly, "I will never treat you like that--"


"My father is kind to me," Lance jumped in. If nothing else than to stop his mate from dipping into treason.


"Your father allowed you to be given away." Shiro was already snapping back.


"To you!" Lance saw his opportunity. "And if you find that so egregious, than never let me go." Lance sealed the small proclamation with a tip of his head.


"As long as you stay," Shiro tipped his own head, eyes narrowing on Lance.


He wanted respect, Lance repeated in his head. His low born Paladin, wanted--to be seen for what he was, clothed in Black.


"I've been given to you," Lance repeated. "I can't leave."


"But you're not mine."


"I don't belong to any one." Lance made sure his gaze never wavered.


There was silence. the span of breath, then two before Shiro nodded.


"I promise I won't go farther." He said. "I'm not sorry, it would be dishonest of me to say so. But I do want your permission."


Lance felt as if he should take a small comfort in the small victory, but he didn't. Instead his hands wound up around Shiro's neck again, his fingers splayed over the back of his head and dipping up into the hair at the crown of his head.


"Don't make me into a prize," Lance pleaded. "I've already been made to feel like a trophy--"


"I'm giving you--" Shiro cut in. "Lance, I'm trying to give you a measure--of--"


Respect.


"You're worth more to me than their opinion." Shiro finished.


It was a moment--Lance wasn't sure he'd ever experienced. Shiro's dark grey eyes shifted over Lance's face, maybe pleading that Lance would understand, maybe trying understand himself. It didn't matter at that moment.


"Shiro," Lance cooed as he was suddenly surging in and back into his paladin.


Shiro was abruptly taken back as he was very suddenly pushed into laying back flat on the bed with Lance crawling over him, humming his name in a desperate whine.


"Shiro," Lance tried to express himself again.


It wasn't anybody in that bed. It wasn't some fool he'd been traded to. It wasn't just a suitor or another nobleman.


It was--"Shiro."


It was when the blissful smile broke on Shiro's face , his arms coming up to coddle Lance close to him, holding him close to his chest as he leaned back into connect their lips in tender lingering kisses, that Lance knew he'd gotten through.





Lance woke the first time to Shiro rolling on top of him.


Blearily, Lance cracked an eye, but Shiro didn’t move as he latched onto Lance’s neck, suckling at the bond mark. He hummed into the mark before like the night before tipping Lance's chin back and rubbing his own glands over Lance's, Lance could barely keep from shivering as his arms wound around Shiro.


There was a murmured, “I have to go,” before Lance found himself being kissed.


He tried to sit up into the kiss, seeking more of it, but Shiro gently urged him to stay down. When Shiro rolled off of him and started his morning, he tucked Lance limbs back close to himself and pulled the covers around him.


Lance sighed as he snuggled back into the warmth that used to be Shiro’s and let himself drift to sleep, contented at the sounds of his mate starting his day.


The second time Lance woke, it was when he felt a twinge in the mattress.


He blinked his eyes open in a frustrated manner this time to find — he sat up.


Breakfast. There was a tray of breakfast sitting on the bed.


“About time,”


Lance looked over to find Keith, already munching away as he slouched in an arm chair.


Opening his mouth, Lance was about to blurt out another, ‘why are you here?’ But — his memory caught up to him. Right. Keith was his new shadow.


Lance sighed as he sat up in bed. The sheets pooled at his waist. He couldn’t find it in him to be mortified at his nude state in front of the low-born, wolf raised mullet in the room. Instead he just sat against the headboard as he reached for a moon bun.


At his back and sides, Shiro’s dried spunk pulled unpleasantly at his skin. Between his legs was also the dried leftovers of Lance’s own appreciation of their activities.


“What will happen if I take a shower?” Lance inquired before sucking a peach slice from his moon bun.


Keith snorted. “He’ll just scent mark you again the next time he sees you.”


So Shiro had been right. There was apparently a difference between an unmarked and marked Omega.


Lance’s nose wrinkled. “Have to shower sometime.”


Keith gave a snort that actually turned into a laugh as he finally turned to regard Lance. “Want my advice?”


Not really, but Lance figured why not, it wasn’t like he was getting rid of Keith. “Shoot.”


“Wait till he’s with you.” Keith turned back to his own stacked tray. “If he can rub his scent all over you right after, he may not feel the need to mark you quite that -- fully -- again.”


God, this all made them sound like snorting, rutting animals. It brought a sour taste to Lance mouth. But it was sound advice, though a bit problematic since Shiro left hours before Lance was even out of bed most days.


Lance heaved a sigh. “I’m going to have to smell like sex all day today, aren’t I?” At least he didn’t have any official business to take care of.


The snicker from Keith actually sounded genuine. “Yes.”


“It smells awful.” Lance commented as he ducked his head to smell himself.


It was the heady scent of sex and sweat.


“It smells like Shiro, like sex with Shiro which is the important part.” Keith filled in as if it was a point he was trying to smack into Lance’s brain.


Lance just frowned. Yeah, he could make out the under pinned smell of Shiro in it all, the cloves scent so different from Lance’s own. He was sure everyone would pick up on it immediately. How <i>embarrassing</i>.


“Any chance you’re allowed to leave the room while I find some cloths?” Lance inquired.


Keith looked up at him then. His brow was raised as he regarded Lance. It lowered as a smirk followed. Keith knew Lance had figured it out. “Sure. You’re just not gonna be allowed to leave the Black Paladin Quarters unattended.”


“By you.” Lance finished for him as he puled another peach slice from the moon bun. It was oddly satisfying to pull the bun apart piece by piece. Maybe it’s the same thrill Shiro felt when he pulled people apart…


“Someone's sprouted a brain over night,” Keith gave a full on chuckle this time.


Lance lowered his brow as he narrowed his eyes at his victim moon bun. “I’m going to the gardens again. Try not to get too bored this time, yah?” he hissed.


Keith perked at that.


Yeah sucked being caught red handed, Lance thought. He picked up the pillow next to him and hurled it at Keith. “Now get out, I want cloths!”




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