Website: Archive Of Our Own
Credit: magisterpavus
Summary: It wasn't that he was small, Lance reasoned, it was just that Shiro was unfairly, impossibly big.
Top: shiro
Bottom: lance
So...here's the thing, right. Lance and Shiro have been dating for a couple months, now, which is so wild that Lance can barely wrap his head around it - he imagines it's exactly how Cinderella felt after marrying Prince Charming, or whatever. Obviously he's not married to Shiro. Obviously Shiro's not a prince, even though sometimes Lance is seriously convinced he must be. That's not the point. The point is...
The point is, they've been dating for a couple months, and Shiro still doesn't know how much of a freak Lance is.
And it's not like Lance hasn't tried to tell him - okay, that's a total lie, no he hasn't; because how is he supposed to tell Shiro to his face that he wants Shiro to raw him and pin him to every wall and door in the vicinity and tie him up and come all over him and - yeah, no, Lance likes what little amount of shame he has left. He's not gonna say a peep. Keeping his silence might kill him, but that'd be better than Shiro's inevitable rejection.
Because Shiro would reject him, Lance is sure of that. He'd do it kindly, of course, because Shiro is never really unkind, and definitely never to Lance. Even if Lance kinda wants him to be.
He would be concerned and maybe a little disgusted, and then it would be awkward between them, or worst case scenario, Shiro would break the whole thing off. Lance doesn't know how he got lucky enough to be Shiro's boyfriend - he'd genuinely assumed somebody was playing a joke on him when he and Shiro first kissed after that particularly terrifying battle two months ago. But then Shiro kept doing it.
And eventually the kissing escalated into more than kissing and...the sex was good, okay. Really, really good. Shiro was super hot, and super sweet, and probably the most caring and empathetic person Lance had ever been with. It was just so...boring. Yeah, okay, Lance had to admit it; sex with Shiro was getting boring. Lance wasn't used to vanilla, and while it had its appeals and he certainly wasn't having any difficulty getting into it because it was Shiro...he always felt like he needed something more.
With Shiro, there was a lot of...more. It isn't that he's small, Lance reasons, it's just that Shiro is unfairly, impossibly big. Everywhere. And because he doesn't have any other outlet, Lance starts to fixate on that. A lot. Okay, all the time. Because how can he not - once he notices how Shiro's hands fully envelop his own, how Shiro's biceps are probably the size of Pidge's entire head, how his thighs can easily crush a watermelon or six, how his cock is so thick and long and perfect that Lance sometimes wonders how it's real...once he notices all that, he's unable to get it out of his head.
He's brought it up, of course he has - sometimes innocently, when they're holding hands or snuggling; other times Lance finds himself babbling about how huge Shiro feels inside of him and how strong he is and maybe it's his imagination but Lance swears it makes Shiro blush, and if he's lucky, fuck him a little harder.
But he has yet to really bring it up. He has yet to tell Shiro exactly how crazy he makes him just by standing there with his stupid broad shoulders and wonderful, fantastically muscular chest, coño carajo, Lance thinks he could write sonnets about Shiro's chest. Or at least a really good rap verse.
They're sparring when it happens.
In hindsight, that shouldn't be surprising - sparring has become a special kind of torture for Lance now, because it's the only time Shiro is rough and actually uses all his glorious strength against Lance. Even during sparring, Lance knows Shiro sometimes holds back - but this time, he's not. Because this time, Shiro's angry.
Shiro never really gets angry - just frustrated. But the anger comes out during sparring, and that day Lance could practically feel it pouring off of him in waves. He'd gotten into an argument with Allura earlier today, they'd all heard it - the two of them had commanding voices, the kind of voices that carried through walls and closed doors, and it had been impossible not to hear them snapping at each other. Allura was cooling off somewhere, probably ranting to the mice, and Shiro...Shiro had gone straight for the training room.
Lance had been in there with Keith, Pidge, and Hunk already, lightheartedly practicing some sword fighting with Keith while Hunk cheered them on and Pidge determinedly ignored them and continued her quest to make Killbot Phantasm I: Journey to the Depths of the Demonsphere work without a TV or outlet. Based on her frequent hissing, Lance didn't think it was going too well.
And then Shiro had walked in. Stormed in, more like, which caught all of them off-guard. He'd wasted no time in starting up the training droid to a level so high that Keith started forward with a sound of protest. Shiro had ignored him. He'd ignored all of them, until the droid got a hard hit into his shoulder and Keith had barked, "End training sequence!"
It had fallen lifelessly to the floor and Shiro had cursed, turning to face Keith with fire in his eyes. "It didn't even hurt me," he'd snapped.
"It would have," Keith had retorted with certainty. Hunk had exchanged a wary look with Lance; the tension in the room was palpable, and Shiro was clearly in the mood to beat something up, not chat.
"Shiro," Lance had said after a pause, crossing the room. "Keith was just trying to help. If you wanna spar, spar with me, yeah? That way nobody gets hurt and no droids get obliterated. Win/win, right?"
Shiro's brow had furrowed. "Lance..."
"Or are you not up for the challenge?" Lance had wiggled his eyebrows, aiming for playful, trying to lighten his dark mood. It kinda worked - Shiro's mouth had twitched up into the faintest hint of a smile, and he'd nodded, and got into his fighting stance.
And so they'd sparred. And God, what a fight. It had been a blur of sharp punches, narrow dodges, focused grey eyes gleaming, a white flash of hair and gritted teeth. Lance was fast, but Shiro seemed to be running on pure adrenaline, and he showed no signs of letting up - not even when Lance stumbled and held up a hand, panting, needing a moment to breathe - Shiro just seized the weakness, and went for his throat.
Which brought them to now.
Now, Shiro has him pinned up against the wall, both of them breathing hard, one huge hand wrapped around Lance's slender neck. Lance thinks Shiro must be able to feel his pulse thundering against his palm. Everyone is right there, watching them, and Lance flushes hot at the thought, and then even hotter when he feels a familiar bulge against his hip. Oh, fuck. Shiro is...is Shiro getting off on this? Lance's hips tilt up into his unconsciously.
Keith clears his throat. Pidge leaves.
"Jesus, you guys," Hunk says, voice high and uneven, "get a room!"
Shiro blinks, the fog dissipating from his eyes, and seems to realize the gravity of the situation. His lips part, startled, and he takes a big step back, shaking his head. "Sorry," he mutters, gaze turning towards the ground. "I'm sorry, Lance, I didn't mean to -"
"Hey, no, it's okay," Lance says, soft; stepping forward and touching his face and Shiro looks up, eyes wide, and Lance kisses him. Shiro makes a muffled sound against his lips and then he's wrapping a muscled arm around Lance's waist, thank fucking God, and kissing him back firmly.
"ROOM!" Hunk squawks, waving his arms around. "GET ONE!"
Shiro breaks away, but only for a moment, only to take Lance's hand and lead him out of the room and down the hall, towards...towards his room. Lance's breath quickens. He follows, and when they have the door safely closed behind them, it feels like everything he's ever wanted and more when Shiro pushes him up against it and kisses the absolute shit out of him. Lance moans and clutches at him, only for Shiro to growl and pin his wrists to the door above his head with his Galra hand and Lance can't think anything but yes, yes, yes, please.
But then Shiro breaks away again, grip on Lance's wrists loosening, and when Lance opens his eyes Shiro looks worried. Lance opens his mouth but Shiro beats him to it. "I shouldn't have done that," he breathes, face flushed and gaze sliding away again, guilty.
"Shouldn't have done what?" Lance says. "Kiss me? Because you should definitely be doing that. Do it again, right now."
Shiro shakes his head. "No, I mean - spar with you, I knew I'd get too worked up, I wouldn't be...I wouldn't be safe. For you."
Lance pauses. "Safe?"
Shiro is still looking away. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I could've hurt you." He bites his lip. "I'm afraid of hurting you, Lance."
Lance frowns up at him. "Why?"
Shiro falters. "What...what do you mean, why? I'm - I know you're not weak, and you can take care of yourself, but surely you've realized I have a physical advantage over you, Lance, and not only that, I literally have a weaponized arm, and I don't ever want you to feel threatened by any of that -"
"You think I feel threatened by you?!" Lance exclaims.
A line appears between Shiro's brows. "You...don't?"
"We're dating," Lance says slowly. "I wouldn't be your boyfriend if I was afraid of you, duh."
"But...you're always bringing it up," Shiro says in confusion. "You're always pointing out that I'm taller and stronger than anybody else on the team, you're weird about my Galra hand, and I've seen the way you look at me when I'm working out or sparring, your eyes go all wide and you won't look at me afterwards and you always change the subject!"
"Because I think it's hot as fuck," Lance blurts.
Shiro opens his mouth. Closes it. "What?"
Well, this is his moment, apparently. "I think that you being taller and stronger and bigger than me is hot as fuck, Shiro. I'm not threatened by you, I'm stupidly in love with you; but I wish you'd stop treating me like I'm made of glass, because I'm not, and I think we're both missin' out on your full potential."
Shiro is quiet for a couple seconds too long. Lance's heart sinks - maybe it wasn't his moment, after all. But then Shiro says, careful, but also a little curious, "My full potential?"
Lance looks up at him, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Well, yeah. Slow and gentle is nice and all, but you can do a lot more than slow and gentle, can't you, Takashi?"
And Lance knows, he knows that the first name thing is Shiro's weak spot, and sure enough Shiro's eyes darken and his breath hitches and he leans closer, hand tightening around Lance's wrist, and he's definitely hard. "Is that a question, or a request?" Shiro asks, voice low.
"I think you know," Lance replies. "But since you asked - it's neither. It's an order." Lance lifts his chin. "Takashi Shirogane, you better stop holding back, because I want everything you can give me, and I want it right now."
Shiro's gaze flickers. "An order, huh? I don't think you know what you're in for."
"I don't think you know that I'm not a blushing virgin," Lance retorts. "You're the most vanilla partner I've had, you know that?" Shiro blinks. He hadn't known that, clearly. "I've been tied down, spanked, choked, edged, collared, played with like a damn toy while having toys used on me, you name it - you don't scare me, Shiro. You frustrate me."
"Do I, now?" Shiro's breathing has changed, it's shallow, and his eyes are unfocused - Lance bets he's imagining it, imagining Lance in all the positions he described and more. Lance hopes he is.
"Yeah, you do," Lance says. "You're so afraid of hurting me, but did you ever stop to think that maybe I want you to?"
And something shifts between them, and Lance realizes in the span of an instant that he was wrong - Shiro's not vanilla. He's definitely, definitely into some kinky shit, because Shiro's human hand curls around his throat tight and practiced, thumb pressed into the soft spot just under his jaw, and Shiro whispers, "What's your color?"
Lance grins, sharp and sly. "Blue," he says, and Shiro grins back, something new and wicked and wonderful in it.
"Damn right it is," he says, and kisses Lance so hard his knees wobble, but Shiro holds him up, more than that - Shiro scoops him up effortlessly, moves Lance's legs to curl around his waist, and Lance doesn't think he's ever been so hard in his life as he is now. Shiro drops him onto the bed and covers Lance's body with his own, heavy and insistent, hand moving down from Lance's throat to slide under his shirt, rubbing at his nipples between thumb and forefinger in the way he knows Lance loves.
"Ah - Shiro, yes, I want, want your mouth on me," Lance gasps, as Shiro grabs a handful of his short hair and wrenches his head back, baring his neck to Shiro's teeth and tongue. "Want you to mark me up - so everyone knows I'm yours -"
"You're such a little whore," Shiro hisses, nipping at his earlobe sharply. "Why didn't you tell me all the filthy things you wanted me to do to you sooner?"
Lance swallows. "I didn't think," he whispers, "didn't think you'd want to. Thought if I told you, it might...I might ruin things. Between us."
Shiro's grip on him gentles slightly, and he noses at Lance's collarbones, covering them with kisses. "Of course I want to," he says. "I love you, Lance, I wouldn't have thought of you any differently, I..." He pauses. "You thought telling me would ruin our relationship?"
"Well, yeah," Lance mumbles, staring up at the ceiling. "It's a miracle you even liked me in the first place, so I didn't wanna push my luck too much -"
"A miracle?!" Shiro exclaims, pulling away from his neck and sitting back on his heels between Lance's legs, expression incredulous and a little angry. "Why would you say that?"
"Oh, c'mon," Lance mumbles, "everyone on the team thinks so, too. What're the chances that the golden boy of the Garrison, everyone's freakin' hero, mine most of all, would want to date an obnoxious cargo pilot like me?"
Shiro flips him onto his stomach so fast Lance gets the air knocked out of him, and he only has a moment to blink in stunned bewilderment before Shiro's hands are holding him down and tugging his clothes off roughly; Lance swears he hears fabric ripping. "Don't ever think," Shiro growls against the nape of his neck, "that you're not good enough, for me or anyone else. It's not true. You're smart, and kind, and talented, and you're a vital part of this team, you're our sharpshooter, but you're so much more than that too. We need you. I need you, Lance. On the battlefield, and off it."
Lance feels dizzy. "B-but you're - mmphh!"
Shiro's hand is over his mouth. He's straddling Lance's lower back, and Lance can feel how hard Shiro is, can feel how hard he is too, trapped between his belly and the mattress. "You're so special, Lance," Shiro purrs into his ear. "There is nobody else like you, nobody else who makes me feel the way you do. You feel that, don't you?" His hips bear down and Lance nods jerkily, making another muffled sound. "Good. Do you want to be good for me now, Lance? Do you want to be my good boy?"
Lance moans; it's clearly audible even through Shiro's palm. Shiro lifts his hand away, so Lance can nod again and gasp, "Yes, yes, I want to, please, Shiro."
"Then tell me," Shiro says, "tell me what you were too afraid to say earlier, tell me what you want me to do to you, tell me everything."
Lance takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, and he's stupidly grateful that Shiro lets him, waits patiently until Lance manages to make his voice work. "I want you to stop being so careful with me. I want you to touch me in all the ways you want to without worrying you'll scare me, because you won't, and I'll tell you if something's ever wrong and I trust you to stop; I want you to hold me down and control me the way I know you can; I want you to use me, Shiro - want you to fill me up with your cock and your cum and fuck me so hard I'll remember it for weeks after."
Shiro chuckles darkly. "Is that all?"
"I...I want you to eat me out," Lance admits, ears burning.
But Shiro groans and grinds down against him again, and then he's shifting down Lance's body, pulling his shorts off and exhaling hotly over the revealed skin. Lance twitches in surprise, eyes widening when Shiro pulls his cheeks apart with his thumbs and laps teasingly at his rim, soft and smooth and so, so wet. "Like this?" Shiro hums, and Lance can feel the vibrations, his toes curling in response. "Or do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, until you're messy with spit and loose from coming and ready for my cock -"
"Yes," Lance gasps, and Shiro smacks his ass, the sound ringing out in the quiet room. Lance jerks, hard cock chafing against the sheets, yelping in surprise, and Shiro spanks him again for it.
"Yes, sir," Shiro corrects, and gives Lance time to protest, but Lance is so far from protesting right now.
"Yes, sir," Lance whispers, head dropping down to the pillow. "Please open me up with your tongue, sir."
"Fuck," Shiro says, and bites Lance's reddened skin lightly before licking over his hole again. There's no teasing this time, and Lance sobs into the pillow as Shiro licks him open, coaxing his tongue inside, and Lance is mad because Shiro is so fucking good at this, what the fuck, why did it take them this long?
Lance doesn't realize he's said that aloud but he must've because Shiro starts laughing, and the vibrations feel incredible and there's spit everywhere, and Lance keeps his legs spread and ass up when Shiro backs off, only to replace his tongue with two fingers. Lance's back bows as they press hard into his prostate, deeper than Shiro's tongue could reach, stretching him wider but not nearly wide enough.
"P-please," Lance gasps, vision blurring as he cranes his neck back, tries to catch a glimpse of Shiro behind him; Shiro pushes his head back down. "Please, sir, I need more!"
"You'll take what I give you," Shiro growls, and Lance whimpers, nodding hurriedly. "I said you'd come before I fucked you, remember?"
Lance wriggles in disappointment. "But I wanna come with you inside me, sir," he whines.
Shiro growls louder, trails his fingertips over the knobs of Lance's spine and presses down on the base, forcing Lance's hips up higher. "You will," he says with certainty. "You think I'd only make you come once? I think you're underestimating me, Lance, and we can't have that."
"Shiro," Lance whispers, ragged, and Shiro kisses the back of his thigh and dives in again, forcing his tongue in alongside his fingers and spitting, and Lance yelps at the sensation, eyes flying wide because oh man that's kinda gross but he's kinda super into it, especially when Shiro's tongue presses right back in and makes him wetter. He can feel it running down the backs of his thighs and if he closes his eyes he can imagine it's Shiro's cum and -
Shiro reaches under him to stroke his aching cock and Lance jolts, moaning loud and pushing back into Shiro's face. Shiro doesn't care, just rubs his thumb over the leaking tip and lets Lance ride his tongue shamelessly, hands twisting in the sheets. Then Shiro pulls away, two fingers still sunk deep, and starts to talk, his voice all hoarse and low and the hottest thing Lance has ever heard.
"Look at you," he says, breath ghosting over Lance's hole and up, up, up his spine. "You're doing so well. Such a good boy, just for me."
"Mmm," Lance moans, arching into his touch like a cat in heat, begging for more. But Shiro's not giving it, not yet. "Please, sir," he whispers, a last resort.
But Shiro pauses, considers it. "Such a good boy deserves a reward," he finally decides, and Lance opens his eyes, peering up at him hopefully. "Tell me, baby, and I'll see what we can do."
Something in Lance goes molten at the word baby leaving Shiro's lips, Shiro just called him that, he's Shiro's baby.
He comes in a splatter of heat over Shiro's knuckles, so sudden it takes them both by surprise, gasping Shiro's name helplessly as he's rocked with a wave of pure pleasure.
Shiro rolls him onto his back, working him through it with his fingers inside and his hand on Lance's softening cock, his lips curled into a smirk. "You like that, baby? You're so pretty when you come for me. I love you, baby, so much."
Lance makes a pathetic, embarrassing sound that sort of makes him want to curl up in a ball and die, but Shiro smiles and kisses him and Lance is glad he didn't die; this is a lot better. Shiro has a way of making him forget everything except the two of them - there's something so calming and self-assured in the way he touches Lance, in the way he speaks to him, even in the way he looks at him. It's addicting, it's anchoring, it makes Lance never want to let go.
But the kiss breaks and Lance looks at Shiro with hazy eyes and whispers, "I wanna touch you, sir, please, wanna see you, wanna suck your cock..."
Shiro shudders, and with a sense of accomplishment Lance sees he's definitely not unaffected by this - his skin is shining with sweat, he has far too many clothes on, and he just nods. Lance wastes no time in tugging Shiro's shirt up and over his head, revealing the familiar musculature of his chest; goddamn, when did Shiro's chest become familiar, how lucky is Lance to be able to say with confidence that he knows Shiro will squirm when he licks and bites at his nipples and digs his fingers into Shiro's shoulder blades and toys with Shiro's balls once he has him out of his straining briefs.
"Lance," Shiro grits out, but he doesn't stop Lance from stroking his cock, admiring the weight and girth in his hand, ducking down to taste. Shiro does stop him then; groaning and shoving Lance back down onto his back, straddling his chest. Lance moans, mouth falling open invitingly for Shiro to guide his cock in.
If Shiro loves eating ass, Lance loves giving head. Shiro's cock is something else, and he'll never get over the way it feels like smooth hot silk with every slide against his tongue; every twitch when Lance curls his tongue around just the right place - Shiro's sensitive, a discovery made weeks ago which still delights Lance to no end. His nails bite into Lance's scalp when Lance takes him deeper, moaning all the while, letting drool pool in his mouth and dribble out because he's already a mess, what's a little more?
Shiro's hips hitch forward, fucking into Lance's mouth, thighs flexing and abs tightening. Lance opens his throat and takes it as best he can, choking only once, Shiro's nails scratching through his hair making him purr. "So fucking pretty," Shiro sighs, and Lance slides a hand up the back of his thigh, palming his ass appreciatively. He's getting hard again, just from this. It's not surprising - Shiro is gorgeous above him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted, muscles shifting and chest rising and falling unevenly as he watches Lance suck his cock. Lance is still wet and open from his fingers and tongue and squirms a little under him, legs falling open eagerly. Shiro reaches behind himself and runs his palm over Lance's belly, idly playing with his cock as it rouses once more.
"You want me to fuck you so badly, don't you," Shiro muses, only the breathlessness of his voice and the heaviness of his cock betraying his own want. "You want me to treat you like the little whore you are, huh, baby? You gonna scream for me, so everyone knows what I'm doing to you?"
Lance moans around his cock, sucking harder, digging his nails into Shiro's ass.
"You want them to know, don't you, Lance? You want them to know that only I can have you, your tight ass and your greedy mouth all to myself -"
Lance chokes again, eyes watering and cock fully hard, and he gasps in air when Shiro's cock slips from his mouth. Shiro's eyes are hot and focused as he drags the leaking head over Lance's lips, smearing them with bitter salt. Lance licks it up obediently, eyes never leaving Shiro's.
"You could have anyone you wanted, Lance," Shiro tells him, voice softer, sweeter. "Anyone in the entire Universe, and you chose me."
Lance wants to argue, wants to say that if anyone was universally desirable it was Shiro, but Shiro's expression stops him - it is both serious and hopelessly fond, and Lance's heart skips a beat. Shiro shuffles back, off his chest, and leans over to get the lube from the nightstand. Lance waits, thoughtlessly reaching down to touch himself, and when Shiro turns around his eyes narrow and he slaps Lance's hand away.
"Did I say you could touch yourself, baby?" Shiro snaps.
"N-no, sir," Lance mumbles, playing at cowed and contrite, when in reality he's aching for the punishment.
"But you did anyway," Shiro says, shaking his head. "And you were being so good..." He's trying really hard to not smile, Lance can tell, and has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at Shiro's fake-stern expression.
"I'm so sorry, sir," Lance says in the campiest, most falsetto voice he can manage.
Shiro fails and snorts loudly, dissolving into giggles as he buries his face in Lance's chest, shoulders shaking with laughter. Lance grins and pets his hair. "Too much?"
"You're ridiculous," Shiro chuckles, peering at him through his white forelock.
"Don't you mean ri-DICK-ulous?"
Shiro snorts again and pushes himself up, shaking his head. "I should punish you just for that terrible pun."
Lance pouts. "Aw, but I thought I was a good boy."
"You're a mouthy boy, is what you are," Shiro retorts, and pushes Lance's legs up against his chest, holding Lance's ankles firmly in place. Lance smacks his lips and Shiro smacks his ass, this time with his metal hand, and Lance is stunned into silence, a low whine slipping out.
Shiro falters, but Lance whispers, "Green," and Shiro does it again without hesitation. Lance hisses out a breath, because fuck, that stings, and he bets his skin is red and maybe there's even a handprint, and then Shiro does it a third time and Lance cries out, the sound cutting off with a whimper when Shiro laves his tongue over the marks, cool and soothing on his heated skin.
Shiro uncaps the lube and pushes three fingers inside right away and Lance mewls encouragingly, his hands clenching into fists as Shiro drags his tongue across the base of his cock and presses his fingers into Lance's prostate simultaneously.
"Yellow, yellow, I can't, 'm gonna," Lance warns, and Shiro shushes him, curling his fingers once before withdrawing them, stroking Lance's sides calmingly.
"It's okay, baby, I've got you," Shiro promises, and lines up his cock, sliding a pillow under Lance's hips before pressing in. Lance sobs in relief as Shiro fills him, and he only takes a second to breathe before wrenching his legs out of Shiro's grasp and wrapping them tight around his waist, dragging him in up to the hilt, Shiro's groan reverberating through both their chests. "Fuck, Lance," he grits out.
"That's the idea," Lance quips, and Shiro clicks his tongue, lifting himself up on his hands and knees and bracing one hand around Lance's neck. It's the Galra one, the digits hard and unyielding against Lance's soft throat, and he swallows as Shiro increases the pressure. He's careful, but firm. Lance's lashes flutter and he tightens around Shiro's cock as his breath cuts off, sudden and dizzying. Shiro starts to move, shallow thrusts that are barely a fraction of his full strength, watching as Lance's mouth falls open soundlessly.
"Two-fingered tap to my wrist to stop," Shiro murmurs, gives him an out; but Lance doesn't want it, doesn't need it yet. The lack of oxygen sends his body into overdrive, adrenaline rushing through him, cock burning with his lungs. Shiro moves faster and Lance blinks sweat out of his eyes, moaning weakly when Shiro's fingers loosen enough for him to gasp, but not quite speak. He digs his heels hard into Shiro's back and Shiro fucks him harder, the bed creaking.
"You like it when I choke you, baby?" Shiro croons, pinching and rubbing at his nipples mercilessly, until they're as swollen as his cock. Lance writhes under him, nodding frantically. "Heh, is there anything you don't like?"
His fingers loosen more and Lance gasps, "Y'could do anything to me, Shiro; anything for you, please -"
Shiro kisses him hard, rocking their hips together and curling his Galra hand around the back of Lance's neck, something deeply possessive and intimate in the gesture. Lance's mouth is too slack to kiss back well and there's spit everywhere, but Shiro doesn't seem to care, just hauls Lance up into his lap and presses him against the wall. The change in angle is deeper, slicker, sweeter, and Lance keens into his mouth, the harsh scrape of the wall on his back contrasted by the soft sweep of Shiro's hands over his skin and the hard length of his cock inside him - the perfect juxtaposition, Lance thinks. That's what he and Shiro are - he hadn't seen it at first, had always thought they were far too different for anything to work between them. As different as night and day - but in reality, they're just two sides of the same coin.
"Love you," Lance gasps into Shiro's shoulder, breathing him in, clutching at his neck and back and kissing every scar he can reach as Shiro wrecks him exactly the way he promised to; gripping Lance's hips hard enough to bruise, driving his cock deep enough to make Lance see stars, constellations that don't even exist yet.
"Love you too," Shiro breathes, and gets his Galra hand on Lance's untouched cock.
Lance comes with a broken sound and works his hips down onto Shiro's cock through it, wringing out as much pleasure as he can, tingling with sensitivity when Shiro thrusts up hard and comes, pumping him even fuller. Lance whines and arches his back; thinks about somehow keeping Shiro hard for hours, making him come until he's stuffed to the limit, thinks about his stomach bulging from the excess, and doesn't realize he's said all of this aloud until Shiro groans, "You're gonna kill me, baby," and bites the bruises he left on Lance's neck.
Lance slumps into him. "Think you beat me to it," he mumbles. "I dunno if I can even move."
Shiro cups his face and looks at him with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm awesome." Lance lets his head flop forwards into Shiro's chest. It's squishy, like pillows. If Shiro was a girl he'd have great boobs.
"Thanks," Shiro says dryly, because apparently Lance said that out loud, and Lance can hear the eye roll. "Really appreciate that vote of confidence, Lance."
"Didn't Slav say there was an alternate reality where we're all chicks?" Lance yawns.
Shiro huffs, carefully guiding him away from the wall to lie down on the bed. "New rule, you're not allowed to talk about Slav when my dick is inside you."
Lance giggles. "Not anymore, it isn't. Mmm, we made a mess."
Shiro swipes his finger through said mess and Lance opens his mouth, sucking it off dutifully. "You're amazing," Shiro tells him, sappy fucker that he is. Lance is the sappiest fucker he knows, though, so he really shouldn't be talking. He tugs Shiro down clumsily and Shiro settles easily beside him, Galra arm thrown over Lance's chest. "Amazing," Shiro repeats.
"I have a new rule, too," Lance declares after a few moments of peaceful silence. Shiro makes a questioning sound. "No more miscommunication. We should've done this ages ago."
"Amen to that," Shiro agrees. "No more miscommunication." He tips Lance's head towards his, brows lowered. "I'm sorry you were afraid to talk to me about this. I don't want you to ever feel like that, okay?"
"Okay," Lance says, stroking Shiro's mussed hair out of his face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on. I was just...didn't wanna lose you, y'know?"
"You won't, baby," Shiro promises. "We're a team, remember?"
"We are," Lance whispers; and when he closes his eyes, curls close, and listens to the slow, steady thud of Shiro's heart, it feels like coming home.