lance is a slut (shklance nsfw)

red

Website: Archive Of Our Own
Credit: ohmwork
https://archiveofourown.org/works

/7805863/chapters/17811358

Summary: "Shut up," Keith says, kissing Lance again. When he pulls back again, Lance just stares at him. His hair is wet and messy, plastered against his face, and his cheeks are still a little red and his lips are red and he's still wearing that stupid red jacket. Nevertheless, Lance thinks that his new favorite color is red.

Top: shiro, Keith
Bottom: lance

Lance is freaking out. He could be flying some huge spacecraft with only a single wing and no engine and everyone dead and he still wouldn’t be this freaked out. Actually, he would rather be flying a huge spacecraft with a single wing, no engine, and a dead crew. Anything would be better than this.

He's hid it for so long. Ever since he hit puberty, he'd been taking suppressants. No one at the garrison knew a thing about his status, but that’s what it was like for a lot of people. Many others were also on suppressants. It was more of a safety precaution, that way no one went into heat or needed to rut while in the middle of an important mission. And here Lance was, in the middle of fucking space on an important mission.

The only person Lance ever told about his situation was Hunk. And that's only because Hunk is the most trustworthy person in the world, even if his stomach isn't. He just said that no one would treat him differently, especially not him (since he's a beta). Lance didn’t think so. He still doesn’t. Everyone knows that once you're out as an omega, people start thinking your weak and you can't do things properly. Lance is already a fuck up even without everyone knowing his biological status.

There was no mistaking this feeling, though. In the beginning, his family doctor had him go through a couple heats so if there was ever a situation where he wouldn’t have the medication, he would know how to handle himself. Therefore, he knows what he's feeling right now, and it's not good. He can practically smell the slick between his thighs and it makes him grimace. He hates this so much.

Lance leans over to the panel on the wall and pages Hunk. He's glad that Coran found a way to communicate within the base. Though that’s mostly because he got sick in his room and was stuck in there for three days before anyone went to check on him. After he got better, he was set on putting forms of communication in every room. Even the bathroom.

Minutes later, Lance hears a knock at his door and Hunk's voice on the other side calling out, "Lance, are you alright?"

"Open the door and shut it quickly behind you!" Lance shouts back, pulling the blankets over his erection. As close as the two are, he doesn’t need to see that.

Hunk slides in and his face contorts immediately. "What's that smell?" he asks.

Lance's face flushes and he huffs, "I'm in heat, Hunk." His friend looks terrified, as if he's just seen a ghost. "I need you to tell everyone that I'm sick."

"What? How? I thought you were on suppressants!"

"We've been out here a long time, Hunk," Lance sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "I ran out."

He really does miss earth, and not just because of the meds. He misses the sand between his toes, the salty scent of sea air, the cool, lapping water at his ankles. He misses the tickle of crab grass in his old backyard, the giggles and screams of his little siblings, the warmth of his bed. He misses looking up at the stars at night, thinking how beautiful they are and how he wishes, one day he'd get to be a part of them. Now he is, and he wants to go back.