Archive of Our Own

Lance was watching him quietly, ring glinting gold in the candlelight.

Well, not Lance.

Prince Leandro Alchero of Altea. Half human, half Altean, second in line for the throne of Altea. 

But also, Lance. Who used to hide under ballroom tables with him when functions got too loud, who would chase Keith through the gardens while the heaving Altean sun beat down on them, who would grin at him — teeth crooked and with a few gaps — and show him how to get extra snacks from the kitchen staff.

Lance, who Keith hadn’t seen in over a decade.

Keith remembered learning Lance had been shipped off to Earth. To learn about his culture, Alfor had said, smile sympathetic. Keith distinctly recalled feeling like he’d eaten a lemon.

It had gutted him a little, knowing that his trips to Altea would become so abruptly boring and lonely. Allura was lovely, but nearly a decade older and not as willing to go look at books in the restricted section with him. But diplomacy continued, and the heir apparent of Marmora needed to continue making himself known in the political circles of the universe.

He hadn’t heard hair nor hide of Lance for years, not since they were thirteen. In a way it was a good thing — Keith would have been forced to distance himself from Lance eventually, it being supremely improper for an alpha and an omega to maintain as close a bond as they did once they had presented; Lance’s presentation had been the one thing Keith had heard rumour of in the palace, relief that an omega would be able to carry on the Altean line if Allura wasn’t able to, for whatever reason — after all, the birth of a child on Altea was a thing of great celebration, and the pregnancy of an omega, especially a royal one, was a blessing.

Keith had bit his lip, banishing the thought of Lance — grown up and smiling, his marks glowing as his hand rested on his swelling belly — from his mind, and moved on. Lance was nowhere to be found, and Keith had needed a partner. 

His parents had arranged the match with Alfor and Keith had accepted, quietly. There was no bother about a love marriage for him. Keith had never had such inclinations towards romance except when he remembered the flicker of blue eyes, blue marks and soft tan skin under the morning sky. He would treat this omega well, care for them as they nurtured a child, provide an heir for the Marmoran throne, and leave it up to them whether or not their marriage would continue. Perhaps they would enjoy the comfort of royal life, or they would move on. It didn’t matter to Keith, so long as no resentment between them festered — it would be bad for business.

Still, the discontent lingered, the familiar memory of bright blue eyes and a full smile for once in his life failing to assuage his angsts.

The news of his fiance only intensified the longing.

Leandro Alchero. He’d only seen the name inscribed on family tapestries in the halls of the palace. A bastardisation of an Altean name, and Allura had spoken fondly about him the last time he’d seen her. Said that he was a good person, and that Keith surely remembered him. Keith had narrowed his eyes and refuted that statement firmly. Allura had patted his head, always treating him like a younger brother, and said he’d knoow him when he saw him, a small smile twisting at her perpetually tilted mouth.

How right she was.

Keith had stared, only slightly trying to shield his shock, when Lance had appeared at the end of the aisle. Really, he should’ve gotten the hint when he showed up to a more Earth-style wedding ceremony, but Allura had always teased him for being slow on the uptake.

Lance was… beautiful. Even after all these years, he was as radiant as Keith’s child mind had remembered him. Warm skin that practically glowed under the sun, juniberries curled into his soft brown hair. He’d donned an Altean wedding suit adorned with golden embroidery, but Keith had been too transfixed by the blush on his face when he’d caught Keith’s eyes, the widening of his own, mouth opening with a delighted shock that gratified Keith.

The ceremony passed in a blur of light and sound, but Keith held onto the feeling of Lance’s lithe fingers resting lightly on his own, the slight sheen of varnish on his manicured nails. Lance had peeked at him out of the corner of his eyes, and held his gaze. Bold, brilliant, blinding. Keith’s Lance. The glow of candlelight flickering against high cheekbones, his sharp cupid's bow. Keith could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he slid Lance’s ring onto his finger, feeling the protrusion of knuckles and softness of skin. Lance’s lips were achingly soft and far too fleeting when they pressed against his, and Keith held his breath through it, certain Lance could feel the unworthiness of his hands where they settled on his cheek.

Lance hadn’t seemed to mind as he tucked himself into Keith’s side, smiling genially for the crowds as they moved to a more private area. Decompression time before the dining ceremony.

Lance looked stunning in candlelight; it danced on his hair as he slipped the soft, lacey shawl away from his shoulders, uncovering the wide neckline of his top. Typically an omega wore rigid, leather-like guards underneath the high collar of Altean garments. In preparation for his wedding night however, Lance had been given something more decorative than functional; thin, winding metal curling over his scent glands, a small jewel at the base of his throat. Flimsy and beautiful, meant to be undone with ease by his alpha. 

Keith considered the idea of somebody else touching Lance’s fine throat, his scent glands, and fought back a growl.

Lance tilted his head at him, smile faltering slightly. 

There were no spoken vows in an Altean ceremony, just a blessing and a lighting ceremony, wherein the couple would light a fresh candle, long and thin and tapered, and dip their fingers into the wax before pressing them onto fine silk.

So when he finally spoke, Keith let himself sink into it.

“Hey, stranger.”

His voice had deepened, but remained light. Lilting and melodious, but Keith knew that the slightest provocation would turn it pitchy and irritated. He sounded like water sliding over smooth rock, or the finest mist descending on the mountains. Beautiful, elegant and completely mesmerising.

It echoed in Keith’s ears, like a rush of water knocking him under, floating around his face in dull ripples. 

Keith’s tongue tangled, and he watched, helpless, as Lance snickered at his face, ring glinting as he raised his hand to cover his mouth. 

“You’d think growing up would give you more social skills, but no. Still as eloquent as a turtle.”

“And you’re just as much of an ass,” Keith shot back, old arguments falling back into place as easy as breathing, like ten years hadn’t elapsed. 

Like Lance hadn’t grown into something out of Keith’s wildest dreams, tall and strong and striking. Like he hadn’t just sworn himself to Keith, for the rest of their lives.

Lance laughed, bright and full bodied and wrapped Keith in a hug. It felt so different from when they were younger — mostly because Keith didn’t have much to compare it to. Only a few sparse hugs upon departure, the occasional side squeeze on a good day. This was worlds away from those tepid greetings. Lance smelt heavenly and Keith could taste him in his throat, could drink down the underlying treacle scent of his new husband, rich and borderline savoury in its strength. Overlaying it all was the heavy scent of a storm on a summer day, the smell of dust being disturbed by the downfall, as a young Keith and Lance sat near the parapets and watched as the sky broke open.

Keith hugged him back, crushing him close and resisting the moistening of his eyes.

“You’re back.”

Lance pulled away, eyes gleaming and too damn close to stop the way Keith’s mouth dried. 

“I am!” He beamed, damn near bouncing on his toes and rocking Keith with him. “I only got back, like, six quintants ago and the entire time I’ve been being prepped for the ceremony.” 

Keith blinked, too bothered by the way his arms locked so nicely around Lance’s waist to keep up with his words.

“Uh, yeah,” he managed, “did you… know?”

Lance blinked, tilting his head and Keith resisted the urge to squeeze him tighter. 

“Know? Know wh- oh!” He blushed, marks flaring with colour, his scent sweetening, “About you? Only once I got here. I was told I was marrying a Galra prince.”

Keith nodded, a little bubble of happiness growing.

“And you wanted it anyway? Wanted to marry me?” He paused, before rushing to rectify “better a familiar monster?”

Lance knocked their heads together, gentle. “Well, obviously.” His brow furrowed, just a bit. “You didn’t?”

Keith felt his face dark, the pale lilac of his skin growing a deeper magenta. 

“No. I, uh, didn’t recognise the name.”

Lance stared at him like he was an idiot. He sort of was.

“…You didn’t know my name?”

“Not your full one!” Keith defended, “I was thirteen! I knew you were a prince, that's all. I didn’t want to know anymore about you.”

Keith watched the hurt flicker across Lance’s face, felt his arms retract, his scent souring, and rushed to correct. 

“I didn’t want to learn more about you, because I didn’t want to miss you more than I already did.”

Lance softened, smile pleased. 

Keith buried his smile in Lance’s neck, though if his small laugh was anything to go by he did a shit job of it.

Lance was heavy in his arms, the fresh weight of adulthood, the weight of years of experience entirely unknown to Keith. Keith pulled him in as tight as he could, this last fragmentation of his long-mourned innocence, this figmentation of his wildest escapist fantasies, here in his arms like a star crashed down to his feet. Lance’s breath was warm on his skin, even through his jacket, his hair a ticklish whisp on Keith’s neck as he tucked it in, ducking to fit his new height into Keith’s stronger stature.

“You were gone for so long .” 

Lance bit his lip, and Keith watched the fullness of it disappear as he tugged it into his mouth. 

“I was studying. Not just Earth; everywhere I could go. Olkarion, Arus, Daibazaal, anywhere that would have me. I learnt so much .”

His eyes had taken on that somehow still familiar gleam, brilliant in the muted glow. He looked a little crazy, borderline too enthusiastic and Keith let himself be carried by his current. 

“Tell me everything.” His voice was sincere, open in a way that he struggled to be, but Lance had always drawn it out of him. 

Lance’s marks flared, a bright little bounce that made Keith want to take his pointy ear between his teeth, tug on it until that light was blinding him.

“There’s a lot to tell.” He settled his hands on Keith’s shoulders, heavy and warm, trusting Keith with all his weight.

Keith considered his face, open and a bit vulnerable. Lance’s fear or rejection had paralysed him as a boy at times, left him reeling if someone spoke down at him or was cold. It would hurt him badly to hear it from his best friend, no matter how stale the relationship. From his husband. His future alpha, if Lance accepted him.

Keith thought of the boy who had restlessly peered over maps and charts, spent hours on the dais when everyone had gone to sleep, pouring over diagrams and holograms. Who’d sat up so straight and attentive during diplomacy lessons, who paid careful ear and eye to the happenings of negotiations and treaties. Who wanted more than anything to see the stars.

“I want to know you better than anyone.” 

——

They didn’t have time for that, of course. 

Keith had had to help Lance slip into fresh outerwear, customary for an omega on their wedding day, before they were ushered off for the reception. He’d received the wonderful gift of catching a peak of Lance’s smooth brown skin as he’d tugged his top off, shielded by a gauzy curtain. 

Keith had been in a state of distraction the whole night, caught between watching the movement of Lance’s plush lips and hearing the words coming out of his mouth — fantastic stories about his time away that he would gush about to anyone that would listen.

When it came time for their first dance — another tradition imported from Earth — Keith took Lance by the waist, years of lessons kicking into gear as he spun him around the floor, watching the smooth silk of his clothes ripple around his long limbs, the draped shawl around his elbows billowing in a graceful arc behind him.

Lance bore a pleased flush to his features, eyes glimmering as Keith led him with confidence.

“This is new,” he murmured, voice just for Keith’s ears. 

Keith smiled, pulling him in closer, for once in his life uncaring of the eyes that watched him. “I learned a lot. Grew up.”

Lance giggled, small and delighted as Keith dipped him gently. His eyes were just the right side of warm, burning like a shot of alcohol down his throat, heating him up from the inside. 

“You did.”

Lance’s tone was appreciative as he left himself be pulled back into standing, held close to Keith’s chest. 

He tried not to let it go to his head.

He was well aware that he looked different than the kinda scrawny kid Lance had seen last. He’d grown taller, gained weight and muscle, his body broader than Lance’s, though not quite as tall. His hair had grown out, trailing down to below his shoulder blades, and it had grown thicker as well. His fangs had come in, less sharp and noticeable than a Daibazaalian Galra. 

Lance seemed to appreciate the changes, if the flicker of his eyes was anything to go by.

Keith didn’t care much for the rest of the ceremony. He let it pass in increments and stages, buoyed by the swell and fall of the night’s activities, and before he knew it the last gong of the bell sounded, pulling him out of his head. The signal for them to leave, finally.

The strangeness of it all only crashed into him in the bedroom.

Their new bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Ah.

Keith took in the soft sheets, pure white and brand new, as Lance tensed up at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his marks flare bright, his cheeks flushing.

Lance cleared his throat. “I forgot about this bit.”

Keith nodded, dumbly. Promptly, he stumbled a bit over the elaborately embroidered rug. Lance snorted, swishing past him and already unwrapping his shawl, draping it over the armchair. 

Keith swallowed against the release of Lance’s scent, properly suffocated by the cloth he’d worn around his neck as the night cooled. The metal of the collar glinted in the light, drawing Keith’s attention to the simple, decorative latch.

It would be so easy to undo.

To flip it, pull Lance into him, under him, sink his teeth into that delicate neck, hear his gasp and feel his hands jerk, body jerk, taste the sweetness of Lance’s blood against his lips and —

he wrenched his mind away, reeling. 

Lance was sliding off his bracelets, completely unaware of the direction of Keith’s thoughts, helped by the scent block patches still tacked over Keith’s skin. 

He caught Keith’s eye in the mirror of the vanity, and Keith’s heart stuttered.

“Whatchu doin’ over there, hotshot?” Lance teased, eyebrows arching.

Keith shook his head, tugging at his own shawl, where it draped over his chest and attached to the sleeve.

He was getting undressed. in front of Lance.

His eyes drifted over to the mattress, where it was plush with sheets and pillows. Where he was meant to bed Lance. 

Nope.

He turned his thoughts right back to getting himself out of his rigid clothing; the first obstacle he’d have to overcome before he had to tackle… that proposition.

The suit really was stifling. High collar, thick, heavy fabric weighted down by metal adornments. The red drapery over the chest only added to the heat building inside Keith as he fought to ignore Lance’s scent, slowly permeating the air.

“Thinking.” He wrestled with the little buttons holding his cuffs together, damn near growling as he struggled to poke them back through their somehow tinier holes. Whoever had made this stupid jacket had a vendetta against all Galra, Keith knew it, he just did.

He only barely managed to pop half a button through the hole before it went right back, and he actually did snarl then, irritated and low in his throat. 

Embarrassment heated his cheeks as he attempted it again, bowing his head and letting his hair curtain him off from his new husband. Lance had seen him in so many states of disarray in their youth — fallen out of trees, food smeared on his chin as his fangs had begun to grow in, messy tears on his face when his father had passed away — but he hadn’t seen him in ten years; Keith wanted to keep Lance’s new impression of him, regardless of how foolhardy that may be. He wanted Lance to be reassured that he’d been wed to a competent alpha. One that could care for him and the child that would inevitably grow inside of him, could make sure they were safe and well taken care of.

Not an alpha that couldn’t even undo his own damn buttons.

Lance’s hands somehow seemed even softer in the privacy of their bedroom when they took his. Lance gently smoothed out his fingers, sliding the buttons out with ease, his slim fingers not a hindrance like Keith’s thicker ones, and that’s not even counting his nails — thick and broad and filed down specifically so he wouldn’t harm his omega when he took him to bed.

Lance was quiet when he moved to the other cuff, before cupping Keith’s cheeks and squeezing them.

“See? Not so hard, Mister Big Bad alpha.” He poked Keith on the nose and Keith short circuited, desperate to grab Lance’s wrist and mouth at the pulse there. 

He reached forward, but only to gently encircle Lance’s hand when he started to retract it.

“Wait, let me help you.”

Lance’s expression was largely unreadable, just the barest undercurrent of warmth for Keith to cling to in rough, uncertain waters.

He turned, letting Keith see the intricate lacing of his back, and Keith immediately cursed himself.

“It’s fine, Keith, I can-”

Keith stroked his hand down Lance’s spine, a casual, proprietary gesture that made Lance stiffen. Keith dropped his hand quickly.

“It’s okay,” he said, quiet, “you can touch.”

Keith hesitated, still. He brushed his fingers over the ribbon — an antiquated and inherently cumbersome way of holding clothing together — and marvelled at the delicacy of the fabric, so sheer it seemed to have been spun from spiderwebs. 

“You can touch,” Lance repeated, voice stronger.

Keith digs his finger under the ribbon, pulling it tighter and Lance lets out a slightly muffled yelp. 

Immediately, Keith rushed to apologise, but Lance cut him off.

“It’s fine.” He shifted, casting a quick glance back at Keith. “Undo the bow first, then tuck your finger under the middle of each crossover. Pull it out, starting from the centre up and then back down. It’ll loosen.”

Keith followed his instructions quietly, painstakingly sliding his fingers under every cross and pulling gently, until the ribbon feel loose on the sides. He took his time, holding his breath as the back panel fell loose, the sides slipping down, until he was helping Lance tug it over his head. 

The white, billowy fabric underneath fluttered around Lance’s hips as he stretched, muscles cracking and Keith damn near swallowed his tongue at the peek of toned stomach he got to see. 

Lance caught his eye, a small, smug smile flickering onto his face as Keith ripped his gaze away. 

“Now I help you.”

Keith tried to protest, not really sure if he could handle his childhood — lifetime — infatuation undressing him, so close he could basically taste him in his mouth, but he didn’t get a say in the matter.

Lance’s hands were far more sure than his had been. He undid the buttons on Keith’s jacket, taking his time to pop them through, running his fingers over the engravings detailed onto every one.

When it hung on Keith’s frame, unbuttoned, Lance tugged it all the way off, letting it fall to the floor, eyes trained on Keith’s exposed biceps, the tight fitting undershirt. 

Lance rested his hand on the swell of Keith’s arm, squeezing gently as the other hand held onto Keith’s shoulder, trailed down his chest to lay flat against his abs.

“You’ve gotten strong,” Lance murmured, eyes flashing and marks brightening. “You used to be so lanky.”

Keith nodded, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Uh. Yeah. Military service.”

Lance snickered, but Keith was too focused on the gentle rub of his fingers on Keith’s stomach to give a single shit.

Lance was so fucking close. Keith could reach out, touch that lithe waist, feel the roundness of his ass. 

“You didn’t kiss me properly during the ceremony.”

Keith blanked, looking at Lance’s eyelashes, sweeping dark and alluring across his cheeks.

“ You kissed me .” He managed.

“You should kiss me again.” Lance pressed himself up against Keith, wrapping both arms around Keith’s shoulders, knocking their foreheads together. “ Properly .”

Keith didn’t even fucking think. Really, he hadn’t been since he saw Lance walking towards him.

Keith could taste his lip oil, as rich as he remembered from that fleeting kiss shared in their youth, before Lance had disappeared, 13 and dizzy with glee from a successful kitchen theft. Keith remembered it vividly, the noise Lance had made when their lips had met, the soft sheen of red on his skin, the dilated pupils of those blue eyes.

It was even better now. 

Lance melted under his hands as they finally encircled his waist, testing the give and bemoaning the small gap that remained between his thumbs. His mouth opened, letting Keith taste, letting him do whatever he wanted.

Keith drank him down, running his tongue along the ridges of Lance’s teeth, bit the swell of his plush bottom lip, tugged it. moaned as Lance’s fingers dug into his shoulders, scratched a the base of his head, tugged on his hair. 

Keith ran his hands, heavy and needy, up Lance’s body, feeling him up, grabbing his ass and squeezing. 

Fucking gorgeous.

Lance ripped away from him with a gasp, pupils blown out and chest heaving. Keith stared at spit mingled with the tint on his lips.

“Easy,” he gasped, and Keith fought back another moan at the roughness of his voice. 

Keith nosed at the metal collar, desperate to rip it off, but clinging to some semblance of sanity. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

Keith closed his eyes against the pull of Lance’s smell, tried to keep his head afloat, but Lance’s eyes were turning hazy, soft and alluring and perfect and Keith ’s.

“What… What’s happening?” He grit out, flexing his hands on Lance’s waist, and Lance squirmed.

“It’s the h-heat inducers,” he mumbled, cheeks hot under Keith’s lips as he kissed them.

Keith closed his eyes, swearing under his breath and pulling away from Lance, fast.

He’d forgotten. 

Heat inducers. 

No wonder Lance had been so touchy, so open and willing. He was meant to mate Lance tonight — hold him down and sink teeth into his neck, claim him forever. Of course Lance would have been given heat inducers.

Lance whined, high pitched and sad and Keith ran his hands over his arms, soothing. He breathed in, trying to take in anything that wasn’t Lance’s scent, but it was a futile effort.

“K-Keith?” Lance squirmed, trying to get closer, and Keith let him. Lance collapsed into his arms, nosing at his covered scent glands and inhaling, pretty moans falling from his sweet lips as they brushed against his neck.

“You’re compromised,” Keith gritted out, keeping his touch light, despite Lance arching back into him, encouraging him.

“I’m in heat,” Lance groused. “Pre-heat, whatever. I can still think .”

“You’re being desperate ,” Keith shot back, trying to keep his head level as sweat shone on Lance’s exposed collarbones.

Lance reared back like he’d been slapped, hurt on his face, and Keith winced. 

“I am.” He snarled, brow furrowing. “I thought my alpha would understand that, and, y’know, lend a hand.”

He huffed, turning away from Keith and tugging his shirt over his head. Blindsided by endless copper skin, Keith took a minute to reboot. 

“Wait, Lance-” he tried, but Lance just huffed even louder, cutting him off as he wrestled with his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, kicking off his socks. 

Keith felt that familiar flicker of fondness, buried deep inside him after summers of dealing with Lance’s petulance. It was a simple enough routine; Keith misspeaks, Lance huffs and pouts and complains, and Keith brings him a little trinket, a piece of food, anything to satiate him and make it stop. 

He didn’t have anything like that on him at the moment, but he had his hands, and he ran them over Lance’s skin, soothing.

Lance grumbled, dropping down onto the bed, and Keith sat gingerly next to him. 

Keith watched Lance’s wrists tense and intense as he twined his fingers in the soft bedsheet, and spoke quietly.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Lance squinted at him, blue eyes scrutinising on his face, before something small and honest and just a little sad shone through. 

“Do I?” Lance reached out, running a hand over Keith’s skin, tracing the thick white scar that trailed up his forearm — a sparring accident from years ago. “It’s been years.”

Keith eyed the new curves of Lance’s body — his hips and thighs and chest — the thin scar on his abdomen, the patchiness he’d noticed on his back. 

“I haven’t changed much.”

Lance snorted. “Haven’t you? My Keith wouldn’t have danced in front of thousands of people, or agreed to an arranged marriage.” Lance ghosted a finger over his lips. “He wouldn’t have kissed me so hard.” Blue eyes caught gold. “Like he loved me.”

“Maybe he would have, if you had come back.”

Lance sighed, flopping back and stretching out across the bed, and Keith fought to keep his eyes away from the stretch of his stomach, lean and smooth and begging to be kissed.

“There was an assassination attempt.”

Keith froze.

“I was meant to come see you that summer, but someone tried to kill me.” Lance frowned, raising his hand to stare at his wedding ring. “I don’t remember much. There was an explosion. Mama and Papa covered it up. Your mum helped. So did Uncle Aflor and Aunt Melenor. I was sent away for my own safety.”

“I-I didn’t know.” Keith frowned, tugging hard at his memories to check for some recollection, but it escaped him.

Lance smiled at him, inviting and sweet. “You weren’t meant to. Allura got to know ‘cause she was old enough, but it was confidential information even amongst the militaries. They wouldn’t even tell me and I’m the one that got blown up.”

“Blown up?” 

Lance stretched before he twisted his torso, showing Keith the patchy skin he’d noticed on his back. A starburst, just slightly paler than his skin, stretching across his back, from shoulders to tailbone. 

“Nasty, right?” Lance chuckled, his scent souring and Keith frowned, flattening his palm right against Lance’s spine.

“It’s not ugly, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Lance shot him a disbelieving look, the low light throwing his narrowed eyes into sharp relief. Keith’s frown deepened.

“I’ve thought you were beautiful from the second I first saw you. A scar isn’t going to change that.”

Keith watched the soft flush spread against Lance’s cheeks, the slight twinkle of his marks, and made up his mind.

Lance had such an elegant neck. Long and slim, trailing comfortably into his spine, the dip of his trapezius, the ripple of his strong, sharp shoulder blades. His scent had sweetened again, growing quickly strong as Keith clambered off the bed, keeping Lance in place with a hand on the small of his back when he tried to move. 

He leaned over Lance’s back, hovering his mouth over the base of Lance’s neck.

“Do I get to touch?” 

Lance shivered and Keith could practically taste the bloom of arousal on his tongue. 

“All you want.”

Keith’s finger shook a little as they unlatched the collar, the wire so fragile Keith could’ve bent it in half with just his fingers. Still, he was delicate, making sure nothing snagged on Lance’s skin or hair. 

Lance looked strangely barren without it. Keith realised, with a growing sense of awe, that he’d never seen Lance’s neck before. As children Lance had always worn his collar properly buttoned up high, and if they were went swimming his bathing suits conveyed the Altean sense of modesty. 

He looked smaller, more vulnerable. It made Keith want to cover him up, hide him away from the world, from anyone that would ever try and hurt a hair on his head.

Keith pictured Lance, the child he’d been — smaller and snappier, nose and chin pointy and eyes wide and endless — unconscious on the floor of a wrecked ship, his body burning. From the sight of it, the fact that even Altean technology hadn’t been able to heal the burns fully, it must have bled. That hurt Keith, it really did.

Keith pressed his lips to Lance’s nape, slowly dragging them down, until they reached the curve of his back. Lance shifted, but stayed obediently where Keith kept him, letting Keith taste the salt on his skin. 

Keith closed his eyes, desperate to block anything out that wasn’t Lance’s skin, seemingly endless against his tongue and lips and face, the taste and smell and the sound of his breathing. 

He could've done it for years — luxuriated in finally getting to know the copper skin he’d fixated on for more than half his life — but eventually, his mouth reached the waistband of Lance’s pants, and he stopped, hazy.

Lance was shaking under him, his scent ripe and full-bodied, heat clearly in full effect, brought on by Keith’s touch. His face was so close to the source of that smell, and he was so goddamn tempted to just tug Lance’s pants down and get a taste, finally , but Lance was making these high pitched noises, little sweet chirps to call Keith back to him, and Keith went willingly, turning over Lance’s pliant body.

God, what a beauty.

Lance’s chest was heaving, and Keith finally allowed himself to observe, properly, the changes time had brought to Lance’s frame.

His shoulders had broadened, wide and strong and tapering into a trim waist that Keith was desperate to sink his teeth into. His hips flared out into the perfect little handholds, and Keith knew they’d widen further once they had conceived. And his chest…

Keith had seen Lance for the last time before he’d presented. His chest had been flat then, body not showing any signs of the omega he would grow into. It wasn’t flat now. 

Keith cupped Lance’s breasts, small perfect little mounds in his hands.

“You didn’t have these last time I saw you.”

Lance snorted, lip between his teeth as Keith squeezed them, giving them a light tap to watch them bounce.

“I barely have them now .”

Keith scoffed, running a light finger over a peaked nipple, and Lance shuddered, legs spreading unconsciously.

“Beautiful,” Keith murmured, watching the way Lance’s blush spread down his throat, darkened his skin so sweetly.

He dropped to his elbows, caging Lance against the bed and ignoring the twinge in his back from the odd angle. He burned his face in Lance’s neck, inhaling as deep as he could, laving his tongue over swollen scent glands and Lance whimpered, hand slapping over his mouth. Keith could feel the tension in his body, but nothing mattered except the blooming cherry undertones filling his senses, compelling him to suck a hickey right over it. 

“I-I think you n-need to knot me before y-you claim me, Keith,” Lance squirmed, tilting his head to the side to give Keith more access, and Keith didn’t hesitate to dig his nose under Lance’s ear, kissing the ginger of his jaw. 

Keith ignored him, even as his cock twitched in his pants, uncomfortably tight, at the reminder that he’d end the night with Lance tight around his cock, knot filling him up, breeding him.

“I missed you,” he got out, mind reeling, “every fucking day.”

“If you missed me so much, then claim me.” Lance pressed his lips to Keith’s ear, head tipping back in an act of submission that had Keith’s fangs itching in his mouth, needing to see drops of blood pooling in Lance’s collarbones from a fresh mating bite. “C’mon alpha , have at it. A pretty prince, all for you and you don’t want me?”

Lance smirked at Keith, fist wrenching Keith’s head from his neck so Keith could see the pleasure-power high brewing in the omega’s eyes. It lit a fire in Keith, always.

“What?” Lance cocked his head, pointy ears flushed and so fucking biteable. “Too chickenshit, alpha ?”

Lance had a fire lit behind his eyes, his body sweltering, Keith only barely managed to restrain himself from giving in to him, shoving Lance’s legs apart and taking his hole, his mark burning into Lance’s skin. 

Unfortunately for Lance, Keith managed to keep his wits, closing his eyes and pulling away from Lance, stepping back hastily.

Lance whined, confused and upset, and Keith wrapped his hand around Lance’s hip, stroking it gently.

“I need to make sure everything is locked,” he soothed, “and that we have all the right supplies.” He leaned over Lance, kissing him between his eyes.

Lance groaned, collapsing in a dramatic heap of omega, shielding his pretty blue eyes from Keith. Keith smiled, caressing his bare skin and revelling in the ability to do so, before reluctantly moving towards the dresser tables. Methodically, he counted the amount of drinks and food that had been left for them. Enough to get them through a few days of heat; he might not have realised what would happen, but it was evident everybody else had.

It was an odd mix of humiliation and pride that flooded him. Humiliation that everyone knew what they were up to behind closed doors, that his best friend knew what he was going to be doing to her cousin. Pride that everyone knew what he would be doing to Lance, Altea’s shining star, their beautiful prince, that Keith was the one that got Lance naked in his bed, his body Keith’s to bruise and mark and bite and love.

Speaking of.

He glanced back, ready to update Lance on their situation, but he dropped the bottle on the floor, open mouthed, instead.

His omega had shucked his pants, kicking them off the bed, revealing long tan legs sprawled lazily across the bed spread. Keith’s eyes trailed up his body, slow and mesmerised, until they reached his pelvis.

Lance’s ass was wrapped in lace; sheer and fine and translucent, clinging to his skin like they were a size too small, with a lace trim curling around the edges. Lance had his legs propped so that from this angle, Keith couldn’t see his front, but he could see Lance’s arm moving, his hand touching himself.

Lance sighed, stretching out, his back arching prettily, his head lolling to the side to offer Keith a heat-struck, pleasure drunk face, his mouth open with the tiniest peek at little omega canines.

He moaned, hand speeding up, squirming against the sheets, and Keith watched the way they bunched and spread around Lance, rather than the sinful sway of his hips that threatened to drag him under.

Lance bit his lip, stretching the bare canvas of his throat — the perfect act of submission.

“ Baby,” Lance cooed, the slightest tremble to his voice, “Don’t you want me?”

“ Lance .” Keith tried to keep the plea for sanity hidden behind a sharp tone, but he clearly failed from the way Lance dropped his knee, giving Keith a clear look at what lay between his legs.

Bidden, Keith went to him.

Lance’s pussy was suffocating beneath the sheer material. Already entirely soiled, they did a terrible job of containing Lance’s slick, seeping from the corners and through the gaps in the delicate lace. Lance's long fingers pressed at his clitoris over the panties, rubbing lightly in small spirals, his hips jerking minutely, knees twitching and threatening to close.

Keith set his hand on Lance’s thigh, heavy, and they froze before immediately dropping open. Keith thumbed at the smooth skin, softer than feathers under his calloused fingers. Lance really was a luxury; soft skin, shiny hair and lips, his cunt as pretty as a primrose and just as pink, ambrosia dripping from him. A truly brilliant offering to Keith’s unworthy soul.

“You’re a menace.” Keith grit it out, teeth clenching as he desperately reminded himself that he had to check the doors, he had to. A good alpha would make sure their premises were secure before bedding his omega.

Lance twined his fingers through Keith, fingers damp with slick and Keith felt it as viscerally as a gut punch. Lance slowly trailed his fingers up Keith’s arm, tapping slowly at his mouth. 

Helpless, Keith let Lance slip his fingers into his mouth, bowled over at the taste of Lance. Rich and strong and addictive, not sickeningly sweet but the deep, intoxicating savouriness of a good wine, tingling along his tongue. Keith gripped Lance’s wrist, sucking hard at the digits. Lance whimpered and Keith pulled off them with a pop , licking his lips. 

“I need to check the doors.” His voice was gravelly, hoarse, and Keith saw the way Lance’s hips shifted at the sound of it.

“But-“

“No.” Keith kept his voice level, but sharp and firm. He felt that familiar tingle in his eyes that let him know that yellow sheen had come over them.

Lance’s jaw snapped shut, pout on his lips as he sunk into the sheets, legs spreading further. He let out a little, plaintative whine, flopping onto his side, back to Keith.

“Ugh,” he grumbled. 

Keith bent over him, kissing the ball of his shoulder. Gently, he rubbed Lance’s ribs, trying to ignore the sight of Lance’s panties digging into the fat of his asscheeks.

“I need to make sure everything is locked,” he repeated, “Be a good omega, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Lance grumbled louder, and Keith chuckled. His feisty thing.

The door had three separate locks on it, and Keith found himself immensely thankful he’d checked on them, since only one — the simplest — had autolocked when they’d first come in. Keith couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else — beta, omega or, god forbid, another alpha — laying eyes on his pretty baby’s gorgeous body, the pleasure of his face as he writhed in heat. He reckoned if someone had overheard Lance’s moans he’d have cut their ears off. 

He looked over his shoulders to check on him and ended up grabbing the handle so hard the mechanism creaked awfully. 

Lance had turned onto his front, legs lewdly split. His thighs glistened in the dim lighting, like they’d been rubbed in oil, but Keith watched Lance’s legs spread, saw the way his inviting sway exposed his pussy, pink and dripping slick. 

Lance cast him a look over his shoulder, obediently pressing his chest to the bed, presenting himself for his alpha, and Keith gripped the door handle so tightly he heard it creak.

“J-just, give me a minute.” He managed, turning to lock the door properly, even as the soft noise of Lance’s wet thighs sticking and unsticking echoed like gunshots in his ears.

He rested his head against the doors, breathing in slowly, desperately trying to keep a handle on the situation.

“Do-“ Keith swallowed as Lance let out of a soft sigh, “Do you know if there are any sex toys around here?”

“ No. ” Lance snapped, abruptly bristly, an irritated tinge to his scent. “I don’t need them.”

“Baby,” Keith coaxed, keeping his eyes away from the obscenity on his bed, “Just in case-“

“ Nooo ,” Lance whined, and Keith could only make out the tips of his ears with the way he buried his face in the pillows. “I don’t want them.”

“ Lance -”

Lance cut him off with a loud huff, flipping into his back solely to shoot Keith an aggravated look. Keith tried to ignore the way his small tits bounced.

“If I wanted something that wasn’t my alpha inside me,” Lance said, slow, “I’d walk outside and find some other stud to stuff me.” 

Keith growled, low in his throat and abrupt.

Lance’s pretty eyes widened, flushing in his high cheekbones. 

“I’d tie you to the bed,” Keith said, flat, “and edge you til you screamed.”

“Big promises from a man doing a whole lot of nothing,” Lance sounded just a bit breathless. A thick, cloying smell had filled the room, and Keith watched, enraptured, as Lance’s panties darkened even further, a gush of slick unable to be contained by the pathetic excuse for underwear.

There was a beat of silence, filled only by the rush of Keith’s blood in his ears.

“If you’re all done,” Lance murmured, “you can come get a taste, your royal highness .”

Keith decided in a split second that he was all done.

Lance laid out on the bed like  a banquet feast, endless miles of bronze skin for Keith to bite and taste, but his eyes remained fixed on the ruined lace of his panties, and the slick sheen on his inner thighs.

Keith’s hand trembled as it rubbed gently at the wet fabric — soaking wet, god help him — fine tuned to every minute hitch in Lance’s breathing as he moved his thumb up and down, absorbed by the way Lance’s hungry cunt swallowed the lacy fabric, white being consumed by the lush pink of Lance’s plump folds. 

Lance’s pussy was a wonder — a small, tight primrose settled pretty between his endless legs, his sickeningly soft thighs, He’d shaved for the occasion, or maybe he shaved in general, because only the slightest prick of hairs poked at his fingers as they slipped under the fine lace, rubbing at his pelvis. Keith felt a twinge of disappointment being robbed of Lance’s hair, the way he knew an omega’s hair entangled with their scent so potently, though maybe it was a good thing; Lance was already a million times more difficult to control himself around than any other omega Keith had taken to bed. With his hands on Lance’s body, his scent making his fangs twitch in his mouth, any memories of another on his tongue was impossible to grasp.

Lance whined as Keith tugged the flimsy excuse for underwear taught, letting the textured fabric rub against his clit, relishing in the tensing of his thighs, the soft moans as Lance’s hips jerked against the bedspread. Keith dug it tighter, suffocating the oversensitive button and forcing a high pitched whine from Lance as he roughed it up. Slick squeezed out the sides of the fabric, dripped onto Keith’s fingers. He propped himself up on his hand, taking in the flushed form of his new omega. 

Lance met his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth open in a soft pant, spit shining in the corner of his mouth. Keith watched as his pretty baby put up a show for him, head lolling back, eyes fluttering shut and legs rising off the bed, Lance’s long fingers clutching the backs of his knees, exposing himself entirely to Keith’s lascivious eyeline. 

Keith swore, tugging Lance’s panties to the side, pulling them hard enough that they snapped, useless — though the only purpose they’d served was as decoration, and Lance’s sweet, throbbing cunt framed by ripped lace was as beautiful as the sunrise from Keith’s balcony. Maybe he’d take Lance there one day soon, bend his new wife over the railing and use him to get rid of his morning hard on. 

He could see it now; the broad expanse of Lance’s back, lit by the gleaming golden glow of the light as it stretched across the hills of upper Marmora, Lance’s moans sleep-raspy and lilting as Keith bounced him on his cock, drinking his coffee to the obscene squelch of Lance’s pussy creaming around his length. Maybe he’d even swap the coffee for a drink from his omega’s leaky cunt. It certainly tasted good enough. It lit a fire under Keith to get moving, as he sucked his fingers clean of that delicious elixir and slid the lacey remains along his tongue, extracting every priceless drop. 

He held Lance’s gaze as he plucked the lace from his mouth, letting it flutter down to rest on Lance’s flat stomach, tensing at the spit-slick fabric. Lance was so gorgeous, with his head tipped up, perfect lips just begging to be kissed, to be bitten and bruised. To have a cock slid between them, cushioning a thick rod as it pistoned between them, using him for all his worth, leaving him hoarse and wrecked, spit slicking his sharp chin. What was Keith to do but cover those wanting lips with his own?

Lance bloomed so well under him, scent thick and welcoming, dragging Keith under and sending his wolf trotting wildly in his head. Keith grabbed Lance’s knee, forcing his leg even further back, until his ankle was tucked up by his ear, his thigh a clean expanse for Keith to grope and dig his claws into. Lance stuttered under him, valiantly trying to keep up as Keith took his memory’s worth; over a decade of imagining this mouth under his, from the chasteness of childhood innocence, to the rampant, indelicate fantasies of a bachelor with energy to burn. 

Lance was his dream , and he looked like it too; his mouth wide open and his face flushed, eyes bleary, when Keith finally pulled away, taking the moment to breathe. He didn’t go far, just a few scant inches, not even enough to break the singular string of spit connecting them, hanging tremulously in the tense air. Keith licked his lips, taking it in his mouth. Lance squeezed his eyes shut, head thudding lightly against featherdown pillows — only the highest quality for the birthgiver of Marmora’s future royal line — his breath a gentle whistle through his nose.

“You’re going to kill me,” he rasped, voice thick and already turning raspy.

“I’m going to love you,” Keith corrected, admiring the curve of his waist, the jut of his hips, “for the rest of our lives.”

Lance’s breath was heavy as Keith trailed his lips down his sternum, the rapid beat of his heart a thrum against Keith’s tongue. Keith pressed his face against Lance’s chest, the small swell of his breasts luxuriously soft against his cheeks, jiggly like a sweet pudding as he tapped them lightly with a single finger.

“K- Keith, ” Lance grumbled, face flushed, and Keith felt that sharp soaring affection, too strong to bear  freshly released from a decade long cage. Keith kissed Lance’s clavicle, squeezing Lance’s tits in his hands, bringing his mouth to one of them and sealing his lips around that perfect dark nipple. Lance jerked in his hold, hips thrusting up against Keith, and Keith could feel the stickiness of Lance’s slick smear against his undershirt. Abruptly, Keith was reminded of his clothing.

How the fuck was he still clothed?

Sitting back on his haunches, Keith dragged the shirt over his head, moving to toss it to the floor, but Lance snatched it out of his hand, burying his face in it, flushed and gorgeous.

“ More .” Lance demanded, hands grabby. He tucked Keith’s shirt into the sheets near his head, beginning the formation of a weak nest.

Keith obediently undid his belt, and Lance watched with rapt attention as deft fingers slipped it through the buckle. He handed it to Lance, and Lance ran reverent fingers over it, a flash of pink tongue swiping across the leather and Keith had to close his eyes, recuperate.

Lance slid the leather between his teeth, biting down gently, testing the density of it — good quality and sturdy, a belt that Keith had worn for years now and barely showed signs of wear — his eyes hazy.

Keith plucked it from his mouth.

“Open, tongue out.”

Lance obeyed, tongue lolling from his mouth, and Keith rubbed the width of it against him. Lance’s nostrils flared, chest swelling as he inhaled, looking up at Keith with sweet eyes, his scent strong as a thunder cloud. Lance’s hands trembled when they took the belt from him, laying it down as well.

Keith’s pants came off easy, a small wet patch forming where his underwear had soaked through, and Lance sniffed it eagerly, the potent smell of alpha the closest whiff Lance had gotten of Keith, with the blockers still attached to his neck. 

Keith kept his underwear on, much to Lance’s discontentment. He needed that last barrier that ensured his love and attention remained on pleasing his omega, sinking further into his heat with every second. Keith knew that induced heats were stronger than natural ones, designed to ensure optimal conditions for an omega’s womb to fill with child. They flooded the mind, made omega’s hazy and pliant through the concentrated dose. It could certainly be dangerous if used by nefarious persons, but Lance seemed to have taken a somewhat milder dose, seeing how his attitude still had him shooting Keith a stink eye as he snapped the band of Keith’s underwear. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he soothed, fond as Lance reached out to him. His hand dug into Keith’s hair pulling him down for what he thought would be a kiss, but was Lance’s teeth peeling the patch off his neck. 

Keith tilted his head to the side, Lance’s heated hands clutching at his shoulders, trailing down his back. Lance mouthed at his oversensitive scent glands, tongue hot and overwhelming as he sucked hard, pulling the repressed scent to the forefront. Lance moaned into his skin, and Keith could smell himself — smokey like fire — though the subtleties of his scent were lost to him. Lance switched to his other side, and Keith smiled at the borderline hateful way that his omega flung the offending patch across the room.

“Me? Patient?” Lance forced Keith’s head to tilt again, the underlying strength of those toned arms sending a rush of fire through Keith’s bloodstream. “I’m being very patient, Your Highness. Waited for my alpha to lock up, to take his clothes off, to give me something to nest in, to be able to finally taste his scent .” 

Lance was purring, a deep rumble in his chest, accompanied by a tiny little chirp that made Keith want to fill his cunt sticky and dripping.

“You smell exactly how I wanted you too.” Lance rubbed his cheek against Keith’s scent glands, a bundle of content omega, purr interrupted by little hiccuping moans as he got drunk on Keith. Keith tried to contain how smug he felt at the way Lance curled into him, seeking his scent like Keith was the only being in the world that could satiate him. 

Keith tried to pick words out of the scramble of his brain, and came out with, “you keep calling me that.”

“Mm?”

“Your highness,” Keith got out, as Lance pressed his pointy little teeth against Keith’s neck.

“Yes?”

“No you keep— stop that ,” he scolded, and Lance snickered. 

Yes, Keith confirmed, a very minor dose. Perhaps Lance’s heat had been near anyway.

“Mm,” Lance ran his hand through Keith’s hair, pulling him so their mouths were so close together that Keith could feel moist breath on his lips. “Maybe I just like it — my sweet Kiki all grown up into a big strong prince. What would you prefer?”

Lance kissed his lips, quick.

“My King?”

Keith nosed at the underside of Lance’s jaw, slowly travelling down his body.

“Sire?”

His breath hitched as Keith bit down on his breast, featherlight.

“Daddy?”

Keith twitched, hand tightening on Lance’s hip.

“ A -alpha?” Lance stuttered as Keith rubbed his cunt, still flush with slick and dripping.

Keith’s head swam as he rubbed Lance’s slick off on his chest, the swell of his tit glistening in candle light. Abruptly, the sight wasn’t enough.

“K- Keith!” Lance cried out as Keith flattened his tongue over his nipple, pulling it between his teeth, tonguing at the redeeming bud. His hand rose to the other one, smacking it lightly, flicking at it and relishing in Lance’s sweet moan.

“Whatever you want.” Keith’s voice was gruff and short, entirely concerned with the way Lance’s quivering set his tits to bouncing.

Keith moaned, sucking hard at Lance’s nipples, pert and reddening with every cruel suction. 

He held them in his hands, squeezing and pinching at the other one as he laved his tongue over the heft of Lance’s small breast, biting at the underside. 

Burying his face between them, Keith dragged his tongue over the mark nestled there, before turning his face to suck at the fat there. Keith would suffocate himself like this if he could; shoved between Lance’s heavenly little tits, the perfect amount to be squished between his fingers, bitten and squeezed. Perfect to be groped and rubbed raw.

Keith could see himself sliding his hands under Lance’s shirts at meetings, pushing him up against private halls in public rooms, tweaking those little nipples and soliciting pleasure-soaked moans from pouty pink lips. Lance’s buttons would give way until Keith could suck the oversensitive nubs into his mouth, relish in the muffled cries of his omega. Lance’s lithe body would tremble against his as Keith indulged in the handsy behaviour allowed to them by virtue of a new and surprisingly lovestruck marriage. Everyone would turn a blind eye to them returning from a dark corner with flushed faces, buttoned up wrong. 

Keith gasped, breaths coming rough and scattered, taking in the heave of Lance’s chest, the bitten red marks adorning his breasts, his nipples bullied into a deep red colour. Keith ran a hand up Lance’s stomach, keeping eye contact with Lance’s blown out pupils as he dragged his tongue between the valley of his fine tits.

A small, primal part of him yearned for the day the tiny little things would swell fat and heavy with milk. Creamy white against bronze that Keith knew would flow thick and smooth from his nipples, the perfect food to nurse their pups. Lance’s body was so incredible, truly the ideal partner for Keith. Strong and willowy and sharp, curving where Keith’s hands would naturally rest, as if anticipating his hold, built for Keith to pull him into his side. 

It had felt like that even as children, restlessly roaming the labyrinthine halls of the Altean castle and the high rising towers of Marmora House; Lance’s hand had tucked so right into Keith’s own, his light, airy voice the perfect compliment to Keith’s soft, largely mumbled speech. 

Even now, his voice was the perfect harmony in Keith’s ears, electric and vivacious and ringing in his ears from the second he’d opened those heart shaped lips.

Keith had missed him with a longing he hadn’t realised the extent of, only coming to terms with it now, Lance’s body open for him, those darling eyes pleading for Keith’s touch.

A childhood of exasperated punishments was Keith’s proof that he could never deny Lance.

“You act like you’ve never done this before,” Keith murmured, adoring hands smoothing down Lance’s thighs. Lance flushed, averting his eyes and Keith felt a thrill pass through him.

“You have done this before, right?”

Lance bit his lip, reproachful, even as he spread his legs wider to make room for Keith’s shoulders.

“An accidental pregnancy wasn’t worth the risk,” he said, breathless as Keith parted his folds, watching the way his dewy entrance fluttered over Keith’s curious touch. “Besides, assassination attempt, remember? I had a fear of strangers drilled into me very well. And, well—”

Lance cut himself off as Keith pressed his finger to Lance’s clit, just tapping it lightly to hear the soft schlick noise that it made. 

“Go on,” Keith said, kissing his knee, quiet so as not to break the thick blanket of intimate quiet that had covered the room. 

“Allura told me you hadn’t wed yet.” Lance’s eyes flickered over his face, searching. “I had hoped…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. The prevalence of love marriages in leading families had grown exponentially with this new peaceful age, but Keith was the only heir to a recently independent planet; if a love marriage didn’t happen fast and with some kind of political or social significance, it risked their shaky foundation. Keith had held out as long as he could, had hoped just as Lance had for this outcome. 

Keith felt a wash of affection for his mother, for Allura and for her family. They’d arranged this, they’d known exactly how much it would have meant to him, to Lance, to be paired together, even if they had been grasping for straws and running on childhood hopes.

Keith kissed his inner thigh, bowled over by the softness of his skin.

“I haven’t been as virtuous,” Keith admitted, nosing at the crook of Lance’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

Lance ran a hand through Keith’s bangs, pushing them away from his eyes. 

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t have waited so long either if there hadn’t been the security risk. Besides,” he smirked at Keith, so predatory it imbalanced Keith, made him forget for a second which one of them was the alpha, “at least you’ll know what you’re doing.”

Keith grinned back, fangs glinting as he lowered his mouth level with his partner’s delicate centre. 

He could’ve wasted time confirming, could’ve sung his own praises that he’d never left a partner unsatisfied, but he’d always been better with action than with words.

Keith flattened his tongue over Lance’s folds, blissful as he finally, finally , got a taste of Lance, straight from the source.

Lance gasped as Keith dragged his tongue all the way through his cunt, collecting the slick spilling from his hole, dragging it right up to Lance’s clit, circling it with a pointed tongue, smearing it with Lance’s self-made lube. 

Lance shook underneath him as Keith dug his tongue against his clit, flicking it and sucking on it intermittently, rolling the little nub between his lips. Keith groaned, sucking Lance’s folds into his mouth, drunk on the viscosity of his slick, the way it clung to Keith’s face, his chin.

Lance was ripe on his tongue, and his slick, so potent and freshly falling from his quivering entrance, lay like a freshly squeezed citrus on his tongue, tempered with a sweetness too earthy to be called cherry, but too rich and tart to be anything else. Layered over all of it was the thick, mouthwatering savouriness of heat, suffused into Lance and only recognisable to Keith from tasting it once before on another omega, but god was it better on Lance. 

Lance surrendered to Keith’s tongue with the easy give of newly spun silk, an endless waterfall for Keith to drown himself in.

“Oh, fuck, Keith!” Lance’s hands fisted in the sheets, moans rich and flooding Keith’s senses. Around his head, Lance’s thighs trembled, completely out of his control, but Keith paid it no concern, entirely focused on the gush of Lance’s pussy against his tongue. 

He pulled away briefly, just enough to spread Lance wide, to get a good look at his hot pink insides, the rapid clenching and unclenching of his hole sent into overdrive. 

He cupped Lance’s cunt, feeling the heat radiating off it as he squeezed hard, listening to Lance’s moans accompanied by slick wet sounds.

“This pussy is mine ,” he murmured, “understood?”

Lance whined, nodding, but Keith wasn’t done. He leant over Lance, caging him to the bed, so pretty pinned down and helpless, his hands scrabbling at Keith’s chest.

“Gonna fuck it so good, til’ you belong to me.” He kissed Lance’s neck, dragged his tongue over his scent glands as Lance whimpered. “‘M gonna fuck this little pussy whenever I want — hold you down and have my way with you every goddamn hour of the day, fuck. ”

Keith thumbed at his entrance, entranced at the ease that it accepted just the tip of his finger, heat sapping all the resistance Lance might usually have. He really had been turned into the perfect doll, Keith’s to pamper and use and love and wreck.

Keith swore, sealing his mouth over it, sucking hard and drawing out a fresh tangle of slick, drinking it down and panting as Lance cried out, sharp and high. 

Keith tongued at his pink folds, up and down, over and over again, his chin dipping and rising with every swipe through. He ran his hands over Lance’s thighs, squishing them between his fingers and tracing over the light stretch marks that adorned them, curving up more prominently on his hips, where presenting as an omega would’ve seen a rapid stretch as his hips widened. 

Lance squirmed underneath him, his hands tugging viciously at Keith’s hair, pulling him in deeper and Keith let him, wrapping his arms fully around Lance’s thighs, burying his face exactly where he wanted it. Lance dripped down his chin, against the sheets, soaking them where he lay, and Keith fought the urge to shove his face into them, not wanting a drop to go to waste, but Lance was an unending tap of slick, and Keith luxuriated at the way every shake of Lance’s hips sent more cascading down his cunt. It trickled down between his ass cheeks and Keith sat up, shoving Lance’s thighs back, forcing them against his chest to get access to his omega’s luscious ass.

Lance squeaked as Keith dragged his tongue over the tight entrance, using his fingers to smear slick there, softening it up until he could breach Lance with a single fingertip.

Lance’s cry was high pitched and overwhelmed as Keith switched between sucking on his honeyed cunt and working his ass open, penetrating his omega for the first time.

Keith grabbed his wrist, pulling Lance’s fingers so he could feel the way he had bloomed so easily for Keith. Lance’s face was fire truck red as inexperienced fingers fumbled at his ass, hesitantly sinking into it with Keith’s guidance.

“Look at that,” Keith murmured, mesmerised as Lance’s pucker, softened up by Keith’s gentle bullying, responded so well to Lance’s fingers, blooming against the slightest pressure. 

Keith’s alpha roared to the forefront at the sight, growing hungrier and darker with every soft squelch, every one of Lance’s shaky moans. It didn’t help that somehow, impossible, Lance had grown even wetter, a visceral stream of slick flooding his fingers, coating them both.

Keith groaned, sealing his mouth over Lance’s hole, his fingers still inside him, and Lance jerked, crying out and trying to remove them, but Keith forced them in deeper, earning a shout from his consort. Keith’s breathing was uneven, pulling Lance’s fingers from his ass and plunging them into his pussy. Lance arched, tears thickening his voice as Keith slid a finger in alongside Lance’s, controlling the pace as Lance’s precious cunt seized around them. Keith let Lance’s fingers move shallowly for only a little while, not even willing to even let Lance touch his own pussy.

Lance was his . No one else would ever bring Lance pleasure, not even himself. If he wanted it then he’d come to Keith, let Keith treat him better than anyone else could possibly have the capacity to.

“Suck,” he instructed, horse, and Lance obediently slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting himself.

“Don’t you taste good, sweetheart?” Keith cooed, driving his fingers into Lance one more time and pulling them out, circling his clit and rubbing at it harshly. Lance whined, tears shining in those pretty eyes and Keith reattached his mouth to Lance, jaw dropping open to cover as much of him as he could. 

Keith’s movements had quickly grown rapid, uncoordinated, harsh, intermittent sucks at the hard knot of his clit, tonguing back the hood of the little button and forcing a borderline scream out of his omega as he dragged his bottom teeth over the exposed nub.

“ Keith! ” he sobbed, lovely swollen tits heaving.

Lance tried to pull away, overwhelmed, but Keith had sunk in too deep. Unwilling to let go of the greatest luxury he’d ever tasted, Keith grabbed Lance’s hips, lifting his lower half bodily off the bed, one of Lance’s thick thighs in each fist, holding him spread wide open. Keith sucked hard at Lance’s little clit, and Lance screamed, legs shaking helplessly as Keith rubbed his tongue along the sensitive underside, before digging right back into his hole, spearing his tongue and penetrating his omega. 

Lance’s words were a stream of shattered uh’ s and ah’ s, fading into the background as he swelled in Keith’s mouth, slick coming thicker and headier.

Keith moaned his approval, doubling down on his ministrations at the tell tale sign of orgasm.

Lance was immobilised, half his body captive to Keith’s strength, legs dangling uselessly over Keith’s shoulders, even as they kicked and fought to be released, oversensitivity taking over him. 

Keith didn’t care.

He held Lance’s cunt against his mouth, coaxing him towards his orgasm, desperate to taste it rushing into his tongue, even as Lance fisted his hair and pulled as hard as he could, voice clogged with sobs and begs of ‘ too much, Keith!’, even as his scent flushed with arousal.

One hard suck was all it took to force Lance undone, and he came with a cry, loud and cracking and definitely enough to be heard through the locked door, a veritable flood of slick pouring into Keith’s mouth. He drank it down, awash with love and lust in equal measure. He was perfect , clean and refreshing and a brilliant brightness, the most exquisite thing Keith had tasted in his life. He swallowed every mouthful, coaxing more out with his practiced tongue, until Lance’s hands went slack in his hair, legs falling limp against his back.

Keith detached with a pop, rubbing a soothing thumb over his throbbing, swollen clit, the reddened flesh of his cunt. Lance trembled underneath him as Keith gently lowered him to the bed, breathing deep and heavy, skin sweaty and shining.

Keith rubbed his legs, soothing and a bit apologetic, but mostly proud at the open, spit slick mouth of his omega, the flash of pink tongue visible as his lips smacked together.

Lance stretched, long and cracking, his stomach tightening at the arch of his back, and somehow that felt more obscene than their earlier activities.

Keith averted his eyes, and in doing so became abruptly aware of his erection, hard as rock in his underwear and borderline painful. He rubbed himself lightly, grabbing his cock and squeezing to take the edge off. With his other hand he rubbed his face, sticky with dried slick. He grabbed a bedsheet, one of the many light ones thrown across the bed, and wiped his face off on it, bemoaning the waste.

Lance watched him, part amusement part distaste. 

“Gross.” 

Keith rolled his eyes, catching on the way Lance’s chest still heaved, how his legs and hips still twitched.

“If you’re worried about slick on the sheets, you should be more concerned about yourself.”

Lance’s marks flared, his cheeks and ears darkening. Before he could shoot back some inevitably sarcastic response, Keith tucked his arm under his knees, carefully moving him away from the mess.

Lance stayed quiet, a comforting weight in Keith’s arms, and when Keith resettled him, a hand on the back of his head as he lowered him gently down onto a pillow. Only when he was properly resting did Lance twine his arms around Keith’s neck, coaxing him into Lance’s arms. Keith went willingly, laying his head down on Lance’s chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat. 

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

“I missed you too,” Lance whispered into the stillness, “in case that wasn’t clear.”

Keith kissed his chest. “Crystal.”

Up close, Lance’s barely there makeup had gotten pretty messed up. His eyeliner had run, mascara a thin train down his face. The glitter coating his cheeks and eyes had come off in patches, leaving little spots of light reflection on his face. 

Beautiful. Truly beautiful. 

Keith propped himself up over Lance, casting a sweeping glance over the length of his body. 

Lance’s heat was still going strong, just temporarily abated — it wouldn’t last long. Lance would be back to mindlessness, a desperate need to be filled, in barely any time. He hadn’t been knotted, which would’ve given them a good period of rest. Keith didn’t have much time.

Lance whined, complaining and upset as his alpha extracted himself from his arms. Keith touched his forehead with a gentle shh , grabbing a bottle of water and a small cup of fruit from the dresser before climbing back into bed.  

It was easy enough to get Lance to eat. Not a single protest as Keith fed him quickly, fascinated by the hinge of his jaw as it worked to chew through the ripe, sweet fresh. Keith had to swallow around the sight of Lance’s mouth dripping with an opaque fruit juice.

Lance licked his lips, pressing a thankful kiss to Keith’s cheek. Keith simply undid the lid of the bottle, gently tilting Lance’s head back and making sure he drank enough. Keith drank the rest before discarding the now empty bottle. 

A tell-tale flush had begun to rise on Lance’s skin, his hands warm to the touch. Keith caressed his cheek, adoring of his sweetheart’s soft skin, thumbing gently over his marks. Lance shivered as Keith traced the thickest part of it, the blue illuminating the whorls on his finger. Lance’s legs tensed against Keith’s, his thighs squeezing shut, his pupils blowing wide. 

Fascinating.

Keith pressed down, rubbing and Lance whimpered, trying to pull away. Keith pulled him back in, pressing an apologetic kiss over both marks, turning Lance’s head with a hand on his chin. Silently, Keith’s instincts preened at Lance’s easy obedience, his earned submission. 

“I didn’t know they were sensitive,” Keith murmured.

“I- ah ,” Lance sighed as Keith kissed them again, compelled by their happy little flickers, charming and gentle, “haven’t let anyone touch them before. It’s quite the, uh- faux pas , as the humans say. It’s not done.”

Keith held Lance steady by his neck, both his hands holding him firmly as he mouthed at the blue curves, dragging his tongue over them.

“Not even your family?”

“No, ngh — fuck Keith — I mean, yes, family is fine but it’s still — ah, mm — very intimate.”

Keith could feel Lance’s hummingbird heartbeat under his thumbs, and he pressed down, enjoying the stutter of Lance’s breathing, the way his hips started to roll against Keith’s.

“You’d only ever let me touch you like this?”

“My a-lpha, my husband,” Lance was breathless under him, words coming slow and heat sticky, “they— they’d be allowed to t-touch me like this,”

Keith felt a surge of possessiveness, the image of another man hovering over Lance like this, broad and caging him in, being the one to pin him and make him squirm, set Keith on edge. Teeth bruising that delicate neck, spreading his legs, thinking they have any right to Lance’s love…

Keith slid his hand between Lance’s legs, pleased at the rush of slick that accompanied his light touch. Lance arched off the bed, chest rising and Keith fought the temptation to deepen the bruising he’d left there.

“A- ah, Keith- fuck, I think it—” Lance squirmed, head lolling back and eyes falling shut. “I think it’s b-back.”

Keith trailed a finger through the slick mess already forming, bringing it to his lips and tasting it. The heat taste had gotten strong, deeper and richer. It struck him like a mallet, the though that Lance would be perfect for breeding at this point. His sexual education teachers had told him that multiple ejaculations during the first heat wave tripled the chance of pregnancy. As a child, he’d closed his eyes and begged for the lesson to be over; as an adult, he eyed that rosy pussy and wondered just how many times he’d have to come inside Lance for it to be a guarantee.

“I can tell.” Keith cupped Lance’s ass, lifting his cunt level with Keith’s mouth, dipping his tongue inside that fluttering hole. 

Lance’s moan was a mix of pleasure and discontent. He squirmed, wriggling until Keith set him back down, eyebrow arched

“No more tongue,” he groused, “other stuff now, thank you.” 

Keith snorted, splaying his hand wide across Lance’s abdomen. He really did seem so small under Keith’s hand, as if the setting of a marital bed compacted him into something precious for Keith to tuck into his side and cherish. 

“Was my tongue unsatisfactory, my prince?” Keith crooned, soft. “Forgive me, your highness, I’ll never use it again.”

“No!” Lance huffed, stare filthy and annoyed, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” Keith kissed Lance’s stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button. 

“ Yes .”

“If my tongue was satisfactory, why can’t I keep using it?” he ran a finger through Lance’s cunt, bringing it to his mouth and sucking. “You taste too good to ever be used in any other way.”

Lance flushed, hips rocking against Keith’s barely there fingers.

“Nooo,” he complained, “it was .” He flushed, marks twinkling. “Felt so good, my alpha, love your mouth.”

“But?”

“But…” Lance batted his eyelashes, the picture of a good omega, “but my pussy’s so empty.” Lance slid his hand down Keith’s chest, all the way down to his bulge, still contained. Keith hissed as Lance squeezed, tracing the outline of his hard cock. “And you’re so big , baby. C’mon alpha, you’d fill me up so well.”

Lance stretched, purposefully drawing Keith’s eyes to the long line of his body, the wetness smeared over his lower half. Lance spread his legs, deliberate.

“Don’t you wanna be the first one inside me? Make me cry and beg? Come inside me and leave me gaping?” Lance smirked, eyes playful and tempting, the little minx. “If you’re good, I’ll let you put a baby in me.”

Keith bit back a moan, the fantasy of Lance, round with his child, replaying almost violently in his mind. He gripped Lance’s hips, jerking him forward so he could grind him bulge right against Lance’s centre, purposefully rubbing against his clit. 

Lance moaned, sharp eyes mellowing as he tilted his head, showing off the elegant line of his neck, the tempting crook of his neck, where Keith was so close to sinking his mating bite into.

Lance ground them together, long leg hooking around Keith’s hips and pulling him in. Keith watched, fighting the impulse to shove his fingers into Lance and force an orgasm from those cute hips, as his underwear darkened as Lance leaked all over them, lower body bouncing against the bed.

He needed Lance. 

He needed him so badly, so carnally, that the world could be ending around them, fire licking up the walls of their marital suite, and he wouldn’t be able to rip his eyes away from the sinful swirl of Lance’s body, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. 

And Lance, eyes shut and hands twisted in sheets, his pretty pussy given up for the taking, exposed and vulnerable, only seemed to encourage it. His eyes fluttered open, brilliant blue as he exposed his throat fully. It would be so easy for Keith to lean down, sink his teeth into Lance’s jugular and rip it out, leaving a bloody mess behind, but of course he’d never do that. Lance knew it too, the action as explicit a surrender as a handwritten letter. Lance wanted this.

Keith tugged his underwear off, ripping it at the seams in his haste to remove it, and he only barely had the sense of self to hand it to Lance as an addition for his nest. Lance, however, seemed preoccupied. 

His eyes had widened, big and doe-like and so captivating Keith took a minute to admire the way his bottom eyelashes made him look like one of those ancient monochrome human movie stars. When he finally wrenched his gaze away, he followed Lance’s down to his cock, hard and heavy between his legs. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Lance muttered, stomach tense, “you’re actually going to kill me, Ki.”

Keith snorted, fisting his cock. He was big, and that was even amongst other Galra. He might have worried about hurting his omega if he’d been fully human, but Lance had Altean blood — his body would stretch and mould to whatever parameters his mate required; It was what made Alteans so uniquely suited as consorts, so highly compatible with nearly every sentient species. 

Lance still seemed concerned. His fingers reached out, lightly trembling, and brushed against Keith’s cock. Keith took his wrist, guiding Lance’s fingers to wrap properly around the width. Lance’s fine fingers only barely overlapped, and he swallowed, blue eyes peeking up at Keith.

“You can touch,” Keith murmured. Lance nodded, his wrist slowly starting to move, inching along Keith’s cock.

Even with his touch as featherlight as it was, Keith was so oversensitive he could feel every last whorl of Lance’s fingertips, tiny ridges that sent sparks up his spine. Lance swallowed, tightening around Keith’s cock, a slightly rougher stroke, and Keith couldn’t help the drips of precum that dropped onto Lance’s wrist. 

Lance jerked as if startled, blinking at the creamy white against his bronze skin. Keith opened his mouth to apologise, but before he could, Lance brought his wrist to his mouth, licking it off. Keith’s brain glitched as Lance’s pupils dilated, sitting up a bit straighter. 

Lance’s mouth was so hot when it wrapped around his cock, and Keith grit his teeth against the sensation. Lance didn’t take him in very far, just mouthing at the head, coaxing his cock to drip against his lips. Keith watched his lovely eyes nearly roll back in pleasure, tongue flattening against the head, wiggling right up against his slit and Keith swore, fisting Lance’s hair. 

Much to his displeasure, he yanked Lance away from him. Lance moaned, eyes damp as he frowned at Keith.

“What kind of alpha,” he huffed, voice rough, “doesn’t want his cock sucked?”

“An alpha that would rather knot your cunt than your throat.” Keith wrapped his hand around Lance’s neck, feeling the click of his baby’s swallow. “Though, I’m sure we can do that at some point, if you’re so inclined.”

Lance blushed, shiny on his high cheekbones. His omega could dish it out, but really couldn’t take it, it seemed.

“You just…” Lance licked his lips, gaze locked on Keith’s weeping cock, voice faraway. “You taste so good. Like wine.”

Keith took one look at him, his shaking hands, his spit slick lips, and knew that the heat had been exacerbated by the taste of his alpha. 

Keith ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head up and catching his mouth, savouring the taste of himself on his omega. 

Lance mewled, sweet and needy, pawing at Keith’s shoulders, plastering himself against Keith’s chest. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Keith whispered, nosing at his marks.

“I-I need it, Keith.” Lance arched against him, rutting his wet cunt against Keith’s thigh.

Who was he to deny such a wonderful being?

Keith laid Lance back, pulling his hips flush against Lance’s, laying his cock out against Lance’s stomach.

The nervousness seemed to return Lance to his senses, but Keith was beyond worry, too transfixed by the way his cock left streaks of white against Lance’s stomach.

“T-that’s not gonna fit, Keith, oh my god ,” he babbled, eyes wide and disbelieving as he laid his hand over the length.

Keith groaned, too taken with the way his cock dwarfed it,

“It will, angel, you were made for this.”

“It’s going to impale me,” Lance whined.

Keith shifted, rubbing his cock through Lance’s folds, collecting wet, sticky slick on his cock, enjoying the schlick noises as he played with Lance’s dripping cunt. 

“Yes,” he rutted through the mess, frothing it up, thick and endless, “it is.”

Lance whined, his legs opening up, but Keith grabbed them, pushing them back against his chest. 

“Hold.” He instructed, and Lance followed through, fingers clenching the backs of his knees so hard they went white. 

Keith wasted no time sliding two fingers into Lance, swirling them around and churning through the fountain of slick that burbled from his consort’s creamy cunt. 

Lance’s toes curled in, feet shaking, and Keith bemoaned his inability to see his face. Nevertheless, Keith continued to piston his fingers, testing the give, the readiness. 

“S’- s’ good,” Lance slurred. Keith smiled, pressing a third and fourth in quick succession, and Lance sobbed, pussy tightening around the thick digits. He clenched wildly, hole shaking like a leaf under Keith’s ministrations.

“ Fuck, K-Keith ,” he moaned, voice a treasure Keith was determined to hoard, “ T-too, much.” 

Keith clicked his tongue, fake sympathetic as he dug his fingers in deeper, making Lance whine,

“Come now,” he twisted his fingers cruelly, rubbing harshly at Lance’s delicate inner walls, “if you can’t take some measly fingers, you really expect me to think you can take cock?” 

Keith yanked his fingers out, fucking his cock through his messy slit, coating himself liberally, streaking thick white through the shiny gloss. 

“Weren’t you just saying I was going to  break you?” Lance shook as Keith toyed with Lance’s hole, mashing his cockhead just above his entrance before grinding it against Lance’s clit. “Should you be thanking me? For making sure my pretty omega wouldn’t split straight in half?”

“T -thank you, thank you alpha, mm, ” Lance moaned, and Keith knew he was really gone to the heat, if his responses came back so meek and eager to please. 

Keith took his face in, how perfect the upturn of his nose was, the pout of his lips. Keith could feel himself clinging for sanity, knew that his alpha demanded he put Lance on his stomach and fuck him open, breed him mean and rough until the omega was a pile of slick underneath him. Fervently, he hunched back over Lance, kissing his cheeks and scenting his neck, inhaling deep and rubbing his cheek against the glands. 

Lance held him tightly, panting in his ear and scenting him right back, drawing comfort in the smell of his alpha.

“Are you ready?” Keith managed, his cock grinding through the slick flesh of his pulsing cunt.

Lance moaned, unintelligible, eyes completely glazed over, limp in Keith’s hold. 

“ Baby ,” Keith crooned, slowing down and gathering his omega into his arm and kissing his eyes. Lance squirmed a bit, whines comes low from his throat as Keith wrestled back some self-control, slowing his rutting. “Hey, darling, are you okay?”

“ F-fuck me, please, ah!” Lance’s hips worked desperately to stimulate his poor cunt against Keith’s unmoving cock. His arousal clouded the room, a thick, balmy fog hanging over their heads and drawing Keith under his wicked spell. 

“You want it inside?” Keith coaxed, a bit cruel in his desire to head Lance’s fucked out pleas.

“S-stuff me full,” Lance gasped, biting Keith’s ear between his little omega canines, “fill me u-up, make me your b- bitch .”

Keith growled, low and borderline subhuman as he sat back up.

“Yeah,” he murmured, obsessed with the way his cock leaked precum right onto Lance’s little clit, “I’ll make you my fucking bitch, my little breeding bitch. Fill you to the fucking brim, dripping and nasty.”

Lance’s smile was dopey, satisfied, as if Keith had finally agreed to give him what he’d been begging for. Keith jammed his thumb against Lance’s clit, rubbing it viciously just to watch that face twitch and melt into a little whimper. 

Keith pressed his cock to Lance’s entrance, sinking in.

Heaven.

Keith didn’t have another word for the slick vice that surrounded him, the sheer heat boiling off his cock as it bullied it’s way through Lance’s virginal channel. Keith swore, grabbing his hips and forcing his way through the trembling, instinctual resistance.

“Lance,” he gritted out, overwhelmed by the heady heat, “you’ve gotta let me in, baby.”

“I-I can’t,” Lance sobbed, voice a thick mess as Keith split him in half, his body fighting against the thick intrusion, “Too big.”

“You can ,” Keith coaxed, grinding repeatedly as his cock sank in another inch, drawing a yelp from his omega’s sweet lips. “You were made for this, baby. Built to be fucked and bred.”

Lance tossed his head back and forth, knees trembling as they fell flat against the bed. Still, his pussy didn’t yield. Lance held too much tension in his core, not knowing how to release it.

Keith yanked his cock from Lance’s pussy, much to his omega’s protest, and flipped Lance onto his front. Before Lance had any idea of what had happened, Keith sunk his cock into Lance. Lance screamed as Keith sunk through him, reaching deeper than he’d managed to yet. Keith cursed, smacking the fat ass in front of him until Lance yielded more, cock sliding in another inch.

“There we go,” Keith caressed his spine, forcing his chest flatter against the bed, “just had to present for me like a good omega.”

And what a presentation.

Lance’s thighs trembled, his ass Keith’s to grab and shake and smack until his omega was whining, pussy constantly clenching around Keith like a specially designed fleshlight.

There was still an inch outside of him exposed to the cool air, and it drove Keith to distraction. He hunched over Lance, mouthing at the base of his neck, gently rocking in and out, closing his eyes against the sweltering heat around him.

“C’mon baby, let me in,” he cooed, kissing Lance’s neck. Lance bowed underneath him, sinking further into the sheets, only his pointy ears visible as they flamed red. Keith couldn’t resist taking the tip between his teeth, nibbling it lightly. Lance jerked, a broken moan leaking from between his gritted teeth as the movement yanked his trapped ear. 

Lance’s words came breathless is staccato bursts, interrupted by gasps and cries and moans that Keith itched to swallow down.

“C-can’t — ah, fuck! — alpha, mm — C’cant take it-t.”

“But you are.” Keith traced Lance’s entrance, painfully red and stretched around Keith’s girth. Keith rubbed his finger at the seam where they met, tempted to pull him open and force his cock deeper, but that might actually do Lance some damage, and Keith didn’t want that.

Lance protested, weak, body pliant as Keith grabbed his face, forcing it to the side so Keith could see that nymph-like profile, could kiss his lips. 

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, swiping his tongue over Lance’s teeth, “I’ll fit it in.”

Lance slid against the sheets when Keith pulled his hips in, scent flooding the room as Keith ran a possessive hand down the lovely curve of his delicate spine.

Lance’s pussy loosened with every back and forth of Keith’s cock, slowly conceding to Keith’s claim, his will and desires, that perfect body writhing under Keith as he got used to the feeling of a cock intruding upon his sanctum. Keith panted, keeping his thrusts hard but slow, battering Lance’s cervix ceaselessly, relishing in the little, lilting whines of his omega as his shoulders hunched in, bunching up the muscles in his broad back. 

Keith watched, fascinated by the ripple of them under his skin, evidence of a life lived well. It reminded Keith of the life Lance had lived without Keith, on his own among the stars — a life he loved if the shine in his eyes when he spoke was any indication. Keith had no inclinations of caging his songbird, chaining him to castle halls and trivialities. Claiming him was another matter. 

Keith hunched over Lance, keeping his thrusts steady, mouthing at the base of his neck where a mating bite would be made. He let his fangs drop just enough for Lance to feel the pinprick of them against his skin, and his shudder was violent. Keith tucked his head against Lance’s hairline, inhaling Lance’s scent, fully absorbed by the sopping passage of his cunt, driving into him with single minded tenacity. 

Lance’s voice was a stream of obscenities as pleas in equal measure, his hips slowly starting to rock back against Keith. Keith groaned, feeling the swell at the base of his cock already, humping faster against Lance, listening to the vicious squelch of slick between them.

Keith pulled away, abrupt, needing to see the wet mess between them and god was it heavenly — Lance’s inner thighs shone from the constant drip of his hole, the globs of slick that fell from him every time Keith removed his cock, dislodging it. Keith ran a hand through it, bringing it to his mouth, feverish, savouring the rush of it on his tongue. 

“So beautiful,” Keith managed, rolling his hips into Lance, “fit me so well, j-just need a bit more baby.”

Lance groaned, shaking his head fervently, and Keith could see the shine of overwhelmed tears streaking down that lovely face.

“P- please ,” he moaned, hole hugging Keith’s cock, sliding on and off Keith’s cock with ease, “I d-don’t think—”

Keith cut him off with a rough grunt, wincing at the pressure of Lance’s hole around his sensitive cock. Keith grabbed the base of his forming knot, squeezing it harshly, knowing full well this night wasn’t ending until he’d locked himself deep inside Lance, flooded his fertile womb with seed, but that singular inch remained outside of Lance’s heat, infuriating and flushed against his sex swollen folds. 

“J-just work with me, love.” Keith massaged Lance’s hips, digging into the joints and Lance melted against his hands, chest sinking even lower, hips widening as his knees slid against the sheets. Keith kept up his fastidious, hard thrusts, grinding with every bottom out, moving his hand to Lance’s clit, rubbing it in slow circles, Lance jostled, his stance spreading just the right amount for something to give way, Keith’s cock falling further into Lance. 

“There we go,” Keith murmured, eyes glued to the violent spasms of Lance’s beaten hole, “just a bit more.”

Lance’s lovely voice was muffled by sheets — had been for a while — and with the growing pressure in his body, Keith couldn’t take it anymore. He fisted his hand in Lance’s hair, delighting in the clearness of Lance’s yelp as Keith tugged his head up.

“Fuck!” Lance sobbed, fluttering wildly around Keith’s girth cock as it ruined him inside, threads and uneven as Keith groped at his curves with his other hand, tightening on his waist before sliding down to his hips, leaving behind scratches and imprints of sharp nails.

The unbalancing of Lance did the trick though. 

Keith sunk finally inside him of, entirely sheathed in the brain numbing tightness of Lance’s hole, the butter-softness of his entrance, the vicious grip of his cervix as Keith shoved past it fully.

Lance’s scream tapered off into beautiful tears cascading down his high cheekbones, glinting prettily in candlelight. 

Keith’s name spilled from Lance’s mouth, as if Keith had held his mouth open and dragged his tongue along those pristine vocal cords, remade them in the shape of the individual letters that made it up. Keith couldn’t help but flatten his front against Lance’s back, caging him in and holding him still as Keith fucked into the mess between his legs.

“ Ohhhh, please — ohmygod—” Lance babbled, turning his head to breath, his marks flashing sporadically as his body wracked with pleasure.

Keith shoved a hand between Lance and the sheets, a rough sweat falling from his lips as he felt Lance’s flat stomach bulge with every inwards thrust of his cock. His head swam as he pressed down, listening to Lance’s stuttered gasp, feeling the abrupt, borderline painful squeeze of Lance around him.

God help him.  

“Like being fucked by fat Galra cock?” Keith gritted, obsessed with the heat emanating off of Lance’s neck, the sweat shining on swollen scent glands. “Cmon, baby, you’re made for this. Say it, you were made to take fat Galra cock.”

Lance’s lovely voice thick with tears as he stuttered out, barely comprehensible, “ I-I was m-made to take fat Galra c-cock.”

“That’s right,” Keith crooned, slamming in hard and grinding . Lance gasped, strangled, legs jerking. “Made just for me.”

Keith had the sick, abrupt thought that if his pretty omega wanted Keith to agree to anything, all he’d have to do is make the request while Keith was deep inside him, cock sheathed in the sweltering glory of Lance’s deliciously tight snatch. Honestly, he considered, even a kiss from that honeyed mouth could easily sway Keith’s judgement.

“Gonna look so beautiful carrying my heir,” Keith kissed his nape, head full of nothing more than the need for Lance to drip white, “gonna mark you up, mate you.”

“M-mate me,” Lance begged, head bowing and stretching to the side obediently, “ mm, bite me.”

“Soon,” Keith promised. He meant it — his knot was knocking against Lance’s entrance with every thrust, struggling to go in and out smoothly. Keith had to use force to shove it through Lance’s tight resistance, and on the next thrust, he shoved in and stayed there, gasping as Lance clenched down around his knot.

“G- gonna come!” Lance wailed, rapidly pulsing around Keith’s cock, and Keith moaned, biting his lip as he circled his hips.

“And who’s gonna make you come?” His voice came out low and guttural, barely recognisable to himself. 

“Y-you,” Lance stuttered out, and he was so damn tantalising, the image of beauty and seduction and holiness, this wet clutch the altar Keith would pray to every fucking night. 

“ Who , omega,” Keith snapped, tugging hard at his hair, something deep and mean inside him needing to hear the words directly from Lance’s lips. “Come on sweetheart, tell me who’s creaming your messy little cunt?” 

“ M-my alpha! My husband!” Lance blinked up at him, a fresh tear trailing down his cheek, and Keith licked it up, closing his eyes against the salty freshness. 

Lance bit his lip, tugging the fat, swollen lip between his teeth.

“K-knot me,” he mumbled, dazed and wavering, “knot me, alpha, p-please, fuck! Want your pups, your knot, bite me!” He ended on a loud beg, catching Keith’s eye from the corner of his, cloudy and needy and Keith snarled as his knot expanded fully, orgasm slamming into him.

Simultaneously, he hunched over Lance, driving his fangs directly into Lance’s scent glands, relishing in the easy give of soft skin. The pleasure was overwhelming, Lance’s blood thick in his throat, the ascending and blinding pleasure of Lance’s musical screams combining with his body locking up against Keith drove him to new heights, an ecstasy high like he’d never felt before. Keith could feel Lance’s cunt spraying out around where his completely drenched entrance was plugged up. 

What couldn’t escaped remained trapped by Keith’s knot as his cock pulsed and jumped frantically inside Lance’s little hold, painting it white and pumping directly into his womb, filling him and drowning it in seed; it would be a miracle for it not to take. 

Keith reached around him, rubbing at his puffy little clit and Lance trembled violently in his holds, cunt cinching so viciously around Keith’s cock that he swore, sinking his teeth and cock deeper, possessing Lance from both ends, holding him like a spit roast, trapped and helpless under Keith’s claim. 

Breath hitching and breaking, Lance’s sweet voice was a mess of ah ah ah’s as Keith’s orgasm tapered off, his poor pussy still stretched wide around Keith’s rock hard girth — it would be a good half hour before Keith could pull out, give his baby a reprieve.

As it was, Keith gently unlatched his teeth from Lance’s throat, licking up the blood that spilled from the rapidly healing wound. Keith watched in real time as the skin dried and started to stick back together, a bright scar forming in a perfect indentation of Keith’s jaw. 

Keith rubbed his own neck, bemoaning the lack of bite there; it would come in time. Maybe in the next wave, Lance would finally be able to claim him back. It was unconventional, sure, but Keith wanted Lance’s bite on him for all the world to know.

Gently, he looped an arm around Lance, turning him onto his side, peppering apologetic kisses on his cheek as Lance whined from a jostle. 

“A-asshole.” Lance mumbled, voice raspy and barely there and Keith chuckled. 

He rubbed Lance’s belly, and he couldn’t help the appalling jolt of his cock, the sudden spray of come inside Lance, at the sheer roundness of his belly, bloated from cum and squirt.

Lance moaned weakly, an even weaker smack against his broad chest. 

Keith hummed, satisfied, nipping lightly at the new mating mark, admiring it as Lance grew heavier in his arms, his scent thick and satiated.

“I love you.”

Keith froze, taking in the closed eyes of his husband, his best friend, his sweet mouth partially open. 

“I do,” Lance mumbled, one hand coming up to run through Keith’s hair, to pull him close and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Always have.”

“I…” Keith swallowed, inhaling against Lance’s lovely neck, fixated on the sweep of black eyelashes against his skin. “I have too. Loved you, I mean.”

Lance smiled, lazy and smug, the picture of a well-fucked omega and Keith couldn’t resist burying his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, kissing him gently, wrapping his arms more tightly around Lance.

Sleep came fast and well appreciated for Lance, whose body desperately needed to regenerate energy before the next wave hit them. Keith needed it too — if anything to cure the ache in his hips and thighs before Lance needed him again. 

But Lance was so peaceful in his arms, and Keith needed the time to absorb that beautiful face, rerender the image he’d cradled for a decade, paint it with new lines and scars. 

So he held Lance quietly, keeping vigil over his omega until his knot deflated, and cleaned him up when the cool spill of sticky liquid between his thighs threatened  to disturb his rest. 

Lance snuggled into Keith’s shoulder the second he was able to turn, tucking his head and yawning, and he was so goddamn precious Keith just had to press a kiss to that sweet mouth, relishing in the soft breathing of his baby. 

Long tan arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him flush and Keith went happily, letting Lance’s heartbeat rock him to sleep, his hands covering Lance’s ribcage to feel the expansion and release of his bones. 

It would be a long night.

——

Lance yawned, resting his hand on the swell of his belly, shifting uncomfortably when a mean foot kicked at his insides. 

He huffed, patting his belly in a little calm down for his rowdy pup. He eyed his husband across the sparring ring, where he was getting his shit rocked by Shiro, much to Lance’s amusement. 

Apparently he’d been holding his own quite well until Lance had entered the arena, and had been able to pin Shiro one to one. Unfortunately, Lance had stolen his alpha’s attention just with his presence. Keith’s eyes couldn’t stop flicking over to Lance, even as Shiro smacked him hard across the chest, sending him skidding across the dirt. One more glance and Shiro was on him, pinning him down gruffly.

He had to admit that it was quite the ego trip —  Keith’s constant attention was a hard thing to earn, but Lance had been its sole benefactor for over a year now. Really, for about fifteen years, though he’d never felt it as intently as he had from the moment he’d seen him across that aisle. 

Keith had been the single most doting alpha in the universe through Lance’s pregnancy. Male omega pregnancies could be difficult, and Lance had proven no exception. His feet ached constantly, his head hurt and he got the worst cravings in the universe — so bad that even after his alpha had diligently collected the ingredients and put them together (in good conscience, Lance couldn’t ask the chefs to make abominations for him, even as they insisted it would be their pleasure) Lance would cry and feel sick even as it satiated whatever urge he’d been having. He’d thrown up every morning for the first two months with child, and Keith had knelt next to him and mopped his sweaty forehead, kissing his cheeks as he complained and whined.

It didn’t help that Altean pregnancies were long . Lance had hoped that his human DNA would help out in that aspect, but no. He was cursed to the full twelve month pregnancy, complete with all the trappings. 

On month eleven of twelve, Lance really was sick of this shit. He was meant to be relaxing, according to his doctors. He’d been quite literally prescribed relaxation, as if he was a character from one of those ancient earth novels about hysterical women. Lance sympathised with them — if he’d been seeing visions in the wallpaper and told he needed air he’d be hysterical too. 

A walk was all he’d wanted — some peace and quiet away from the bustle of Marmora House. He loved their bedroom, he did. Loved the quarters he shared with Keith, with its wide spaces and the bed Keith had brought in especially to help Lance’s back, which still ached from time to time. But it had gotten stifling constantly being under a watchful eye. He wasn’t under lock and key (yet) but an entire house full of staff that were overly concerned for his health wasn’t conducive to a peaceful walk alone. 

Don’t even mention the overly concerned alpha.

Lance groaned internally as Keith bee lined towards him, eyes furrowed and hands already reaching out to touch his waist. Keith pulled him against him, touch gentle, kissing his cheek. 

Lance blushed, as he always did. 

That had been one of the strangest things to get used to — Keith’s easy affection. Not bad. Just strange. He showed it to everyone — polite chatter with staff, fond smiles to the kids that liked to play in the courtyard, a side hug offered to his best friends — Romelle and Axca — without hesitation. Keith’s childhood reticence was rare and usually a symptom of a bad day. 

“Should you be up and about?” Keith murmured, keeping his voice low for only Lance’s ears. For that, Lance was grateful. It was one thing for everyone to know he wasn’t meant to be here, it would be another for his husband to publicly chastise him — but Keith had been his staunchest supporter, keeping himself aligned with Lance’s desires in public, only expressing his concerns about Lance’s pregnancy frustrations in private, where Lance didn’t have to be embarrassed. 

Still. That question got annoying after the third time he’d heard it. 

“God forbid I take a walk,” Lance snipped, arching his eyebrow. Keith rubbed his back, kneading lightly where the scar tissue was tightest. 

“Sweetheart,” Keith murmured, eyes fond, “you know you shouldn’t be walking everywhere alone, especially not this far out.” 

Lance groaned, out loud this time, catching Shiro’s attention. 

Shiro laughed, bright and boyish in a way that had always endeared Lance to his brother-in-law, even when he was young.

Shiro clapped Keith on the shoulder before smiling at Lance.

“Hello Lance. May I?”

“Of course." Lance lifted his hand from his belly, allow Shiro to replace it with his own. His hands were warm, calloused and friendly as they rubbed over his bare stomach. Altean garments were usually designed for modesty, but all of that seemed to fly out the window with pregnancies — typical loungewear like Lance’s consisted of a wide necked upper half — to show off a mating bite if one wished — flowy sleeves, and a curtain of fabric over the stomach, parted in the middle. Altean couples usually only had two children at the max, since pregnancies were long and rough, so they were cherished as blessing and experiences to be proud of.

Lance knew from the look in Keith’s eyes when he caught him observing that he wasn’t going to be stopping at two pregnancies. Not with his 

 husband and the Galran penchant for a litter of children. He’d have to bargain Keith down to three, maybe four. 

His baby responded happily to her uncle’s touch, kicking again and making Lance wince. Keith kissed his shoulder, rubbing his back. Lance turned his head, pressing his lips quickly to his husbands head in thanks.

“Fiesty,” Shiro chuckled, “maybe she’ll get all her energy out in the womb and be a relaxed baby.”

“God, I sure hope so,” Lance sighed.

“I can tell you that Asashi was a quiet baby while I was pregnant, and well… you can see how that worked out for me,” Shiro reassured him with a wince.

Lance snickered, remembering the many antics of Shiro and Adam’s son — their only son. They wouldn’t be having more children; Shiro had said raising Keith was enough for him. That boy was a whirlwind of action and smart comments. He would have made a great king, if Shiro had been Keith’s actual brother, not the guard assigned to him who’d grown so close Keith had quietly bound them as siblings the second he gained power

Still, with all his mischief, Lance was horrifically fond of the little rascal. The curious little thing was endlessly fascinated by his unborn cousin, and had been Lance’s most steadfast companion on Marmora — even more than Keith, who did his best to spend every waking hour at his consorts side. Unfortunately, the further along Lance got, the more difficult it was for Lance to attend to palace business with Keith, frustrating him endlessly. He was beyond curious about the politics of his new home, desperate to immerse himself in it, apply his learnt experience to his new role. God knows Keith needed the help. His alpha was a kind man with stubborn opinions and a good heart to guide them, ill suited to diplomacy. Lance would take over for him soon enough, allow him some reprieve.

Keith and Shiro exchanged some words that Lance wasn’t privy to, distracted as he was, and before he knew it, Keith’s arm was around his waist, guiding him away as the clash of swords started up again. 

“I just wanted some quiet ,” Lance murmured, rubbing his stomach again, trying to ease his baby from her assault.

Keith’s voice was warm, understanding and fond. 

“I know, Lance. Just…” he hesitated, trying to find his words. That was new as well: a Keith that didn’t speak from impulse, but searched for words that landed gently, demonstrated his outward care. “I just don’t like you walking so far by yourself. Just let me know, okay? Send me a message, I’ll come with you. Or — or I’ll make sure the guards know where you’re going, so if something happens we know .”

Lance sighed. He knew Keith was being reasonable, that Lance was jeopardising his safety and their child’s. 

“Alright,” he shuffled his body until Keith’s hand fell from his waist and Lance could tangle their hands together instead, “I won’t do anything to endanger her.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, but they kept walking until they reached the edge of the lake. 

It was a beautiful thing — so wide and endless that Lance couldn’t see the end of it from their vantage point. It was his favourite place here. The lake held decades of memories.

As children, running along the edge until their guards caught up to them, chastising their behaviour. Swimming together with the hot sun beating down their necks, accompanied by Adam and Allura and Veronica and Shiro, the fond smiles of their older family members shining on them as they tried to pull each other under. They would giggle between themselves, oddly secretive and amused when Keith and Lance would demand to know what was so funny. Now, Lance was pretty sure he knew what they were gossiping about.

With his return to Marmora, the lakes held new memories for him. Waking up his first day in their marital bedroom as Keith’s consort,  just in time to see the sunrise glinting on the placid surface. He’d been too sleepy with Keith’s strong warm arms holding him near to come up with an appropriate metaphor, but enchanted and awake enough to know there was one. Holding Asashi’s hand with Keith on the other side, the two of them listening to the little boy’s endless chatter while exchanging secret smiles, only the two of them truly aware of the new life growing in Lance’s stomach. The first time he’d felt her kick, jolting awake from his doze on Keith’s lap, tears sparking to his eyes as he hurriedly guided Keith to feel. The way the sunset had echoed the gold in Keith’s irises as they shone, amazed and awed. 

Keith’s voice was soft when he spoke, like the gentle rock of waves against the shore, covered in shimmery rocks, strange in their gleam and rounded shape. 

“Of course I care about the baby,” he started, voice hesitant, “I love her so much already. But I’m more worried about you.”

Lance looked over at him, his strong nose, his eyes heavyset and laced with thick black lashes. His husband was the perfect straddle between beauty and handsomeness.

“I would be devastated to lose her. I’d carry it around with me everyday. But I can’t lose you, Lance. We can have another child eventually, but I can’t have another mate.”

Lance caressed his husband’s cheek, admiring the crook in his nose, his full bottom lip. 

“I love you,” he murmured, “so much. I’ll be more careful.”

Keith nodded, kissing Lance’s fingers before they had the chance to retreat.

“It’s all I ask.”

Lance let his husband guide him into a sit, achingly fond of his hands on Lance’s hips, the way he held him snug in his arms. Lance turned his face against Keith’s neck, kissing the mating bite there tenderly, absorbed in the soft smoky scent of his mate. 

It was a heady one that drove Lance to distraction when it was particularly strong. Full bodied and mingled with a glint of tea, of tart berry and a refreshing aftertaste like whipped coffee cream. 

Keith kissed his forehead, and Lance smiled, curling into his alpha as his calloused hands gently rubbed his stomach, the life inside it. 

Lance imagined his baby — dark hair curling down to her waist, gleaming golden eyes like her father. Maybe she’d have his skin tone — Lance had always thought gold suited his colouring. He imagined her voice, babbling and babyish, maturing into the tenderness of Keith, the regality of a young princess. He’d nurture her carefully, raise her as clever as himself, as resourceful and kind as she could be. 

And Keith would treat her so well — he’d dote on her, would run his hands through her hair and teach her to be strong and good and loving, trustworthy and loyal. He’d devote himself to her health and her safety. 

Lance imagined them walking along the lake’s edge, her little hand in theirs, curious eyes flickering at the sight of the birds that perched on the glittering rocks, the lizards that rose from the water with big oval eyes. 

He superimposed the picture over his eyeline, and smiled.

Keith’s hand tightened around him, and Lance glanced up, enamoured with the affection in Keith’s eyes.

His husband, his alpha. 

His best friend.

Yes, he was very excited for their next sunrise.