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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

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hiii bestie! I hope you’ve been feeling better?

so here’s that idea I mentioned… obv you and Steve have a thriving sex life. but you’ve been “taught” in past relationships that a woman should be quiet in bed/or you just think that’s the ladylike thing to do. which is really confusing/ego-crushing for Steve and he actually thinks maybe you’re not enjoying sex with him at all bc you’re basically silent the entire time.

so one day you ask him if he wants to fool around and he’s like “come on, do you even want to? It doesn’t seem like you enjoy it much/you don’t have to just to make me happy.” then you have a heart to heart, tell him what’s up, and ask him if he’ll help you be more expressive in the moan/groan/gasp/verbal feedback department by asking what feels good, etc. for a smutfest that’s sure to restore Steve’s confidence. (maybe they accidentally stumble upon a new kink for Steve… daddy or breeding or something else entirely? I like the idea of him first “helping” her and then she really gets the hang of it and surprises him) 🥵😘☄️

only if you want to and no timeline, ofc ofc!

Yes I am, thank you 🥰 also oh man, imagine how hard Steve would take that 🥺 (I’ve also toyed with the idea of writing one where the reader has never had an orgasm with a guy and he wants to be the first to give her one—maybe you can help me flesh out that idea more at a later date?)

But I definitely feel like reader may not have been comfortable with doing it in past relationships so when no other guys have mentioned it, she doesn’t think it’s important and is shocked when Steve mentions it. ANYWAY I’m gonna have a blast with this one 😏

Confidence Boost

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Steve watched you pad off to the bathroom to clean yourself off.

He was still trying to steady his breathing, recovering from the orgasm he’d just had, but when he’d moved off of you earlier, he couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied.

Your and his sex life was fine—more than fine actually as you both had trouble keeping hands off one another. But recently, doubts had started to cloud Steve’s mind.

Sure, sex was a regular thing between you two, but he’d started to wonder if it was something you did just for him, if he left you unsatisfied each and every time.

Dear God, had you been faking orgasms with him?

He didn’t think so, as it was hard to fake the clenching of your pussy on his cock as you came, the way your body would tremble and face would fall slack before contorting in pleasure.

But still, it could be easy to fake two out of those three.

He thought sex with you was absolutely incredible, he’d never had as intense orgasms as he did with you and he contributed it to be wholly and unequivocally in love with you.

So why was he worried?

Because you rarely made a peep.

You were silent a majority of the time. Other than a breathy, quiet noise here and there, you hardly ever made a sound.

Needless to say, it was soul crushing to Steve.

He’d slept with many girls before you—in fact he had quite the roster of women back in high school and when he was casually dating, before he met you—but no matter what, there was always something he made sure of. If he was with a girl intimately, he was going to make sure they had a good time and didn’t walk away unsatisfied.

Which was why he was now laying in bed, waiting for the love of his life to return from the bathroom so he could give you the most wholesome, tender, post sex cuddles ever. You were amazing in every way.

But was he not enough to satisfy you?

•

It was approaching nighttime as you and Steve sat on the bed. You laid on your stomach at the end of the bed, watching the remaining of an episode of Wheel of Fortune while he sat at the head of the bed, looking over some end of the month reports from Family Video.

Keith had once again dumped the responsibility on Steve and even though he wasn’t crazy about the job, he took the task seriously.

The wheel spun again, the mechanical whirring and dinging of it spinning coming through the TV. It landed on the $500 wedge and the contestant called a “T”.

You groaned, turning off the TV, having already solved the puzzle yourself and bored by the show now. You rejoined Steve at the headboard, placing your chin on his shoulder and peering at the papers he held.

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache if you stare at that inventory list any longer,” you pouted.

He mumbled his agreement, setting the pile of papers on his bedside, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows.

“I have a better idea,” you smirked, hand gliding dangerously close to his crotch, your lips tickling his jaw.

Your lips skirted teasingly along his jaw, placing light kisses along it, your hand pressing firmly over his quickly reacting cock, rubbing over it.

“Why don’t we fool around,” you mumbled, a teasing grin on your face as you suckled lightly on a spot where his jaw and neck met.

He moved out of your reach, to your surprise, a bloom of hurt spreading throughout your chest.

“You don’t have to do it just to make me happy,” he said.

Your brows creased in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, do you even want to fool around?” he asked, lips pressed tightly together.

You knew he only did that when he was upset about something and this time, he was trying hard to hide just how upset he was.

“Steve, of course I do,” you laughed in disbelief, “I wouldn’t be trying to seduce you if I didn’t.”

His mouth turned down in a frown as he folded his arms over his chest, refusing to look at you.

Now you were baffled. You had no idea what was going on here.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” you bit your lip nervously, almost afraid of his answer.

He’d never turned you down like this. Sure, he’d done it in the past when he didn’t have time, was too busy working and you’d tried tempting him or even when he wasn’t in the mood. But all those times it had been in such a sweet manner, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’d never been so closed off like this, almost cold towards you.

“It just seems like you don’t enjoy it very much when we do have sex,” he shrugged.

You were absolutely floored.

Steve was the most talented man you’d been with. He knew how to make your mind reel, your body feel like a lit firework and actually see stars behind your eyes. The things he could do with his fingers and tongue alone.

You would not hesitate to label it the best sex ever.

So why did he think you didn’t enjoy him?

You actually gaped at him and when he finally met your eyes, you could see the hesitation behind them. Not only hesitation, but confliction and most of all, hurt.

“Please talk to me,” you mumbled, frowning now.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, sending the brunette strands in different directions. You knew it took a lot for him to admit whatever it was that was bothering him. He’d always been one to be there for people, yet had a hard time when it came to being the one having the insecurities.

“You’re always so quiet,” he shrugged, “You never make any noise. You never tell me what you want, what you like. No dirty talk, nothing. I just figured you weren’t enjoying it as much as I was, but never said anything to spare my feelings.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.

“Steve, can I be honest with you?”

“If you’re going to tell me that I don’t please you, I’d rather not hear it,” he said glumly.

“Okay one, that’s so far from the truth. You’re absolutely incredible. Words can’t describe type of incredible,” you said bluntly.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes snapped to yours, looking curious and a bit relieved.

“Two, I always felt awkward being too noisy. The one time I tried, the guy I was with said it ruined the mood. I figured I just wasn’t any good at it and now I just try to stay quiet…” you trailed off, humiliation settling in at your words.

Sex was an intimate activity of course; you were at your most vulnerable when you were naked, letting another person see the entirety of you, inside and out. Even more vulnerable is letting that person see you cum. It was an act and feeling where you throw caution to the wind and let go. That’s why it was so embarrassing to admit that in your entire sexual life, you had never felt confident enough to react accordingly, especially when you most wanted to. Especially, with Steve.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he frowned again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest, your back pressed against it, “Here I was selfishly thinking it was a me problem when I didn’t even realize you were struggling. I had no idea you felt that way. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was embarrassed. I am embarrassed. I mean, usually it’s just something you can’t control and it just happens. But I want to change that. Will you help me?”

“Challenged accepted,” he said, turning you to him, kissing you.

You pushed his chest lightly, parting from the kiss, hesitant for a moment.

“I, um. I’m not exactly sure what to do,” you admitted.

He didn’t judge you or even laugh at you. He took you seriously as his gazed seared yours.

“Just tell me what feels good,” he answered, “With words, with noise, whatever. Let me know what you want. Tell me what you want to do to me. Be as dirty as you want, I certainly won’t mind.”

Now he was smirking, hand rubbing the top of your thigh and you chuckled lightly.

“How about a quick practice run, hmm?”

“Practice run,” you replied dubiously, not sure where he was going with this, “Okay.”

His hand slid from your thigh in between your legs, cupping your pussy through the thin material of your underwear. You were already ready for bed, just in an oversized t-shirt and underwear, so his touch was even more agonizing when it was so close to your bare core.

“Oh,” you gasped lightly, his hand rubbing against you lightly, just enough pressure to tease you.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, watching you intently.

“Yeah,” you whispered, swallowing thickly, nodding.

“Good. Now let’s make you scream then, yeah?”

Your cheeks barely had time to warm before he was repositioning you, pulling you practically in his lap. Your legs wide spread wide enough as he continued to rub his hand against you, placing his lips against yours as he kissed you.

One arm hooked around his neck, your other hand resting on his stubble coated jaw as you kissed him back, hard. His fingers pulled your underwear aside before the pad of this thumb pressed down on your clit.

You moaned softly into the kiss and you felt his thickening cock against the back of your thigh, him reacting to even the smallest of noises you’d already made.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled lowly against your lips.

“Your fingers,” you sighed, his thumb running lazy circles on your clit.

He slid his index finger in, not at all surprised to find just how wet you already were. If he hadn’t been so caught up in his doubts, he would’ve known just how much you enjoyed him from your body alone. It always reacted to him so quickly and in the most arousing ways.

“Good?” he asked, curling it teasingly.

Your moans were still hesitant, quiet, but still, it was a start.

“So good,” you breathed, hips trying to push into his touch, needing more friction.

The second finger joined the first and he slid them in and out of you, thumb flicking your clit.

“Oh god,” you groaned, head falling back.

You didn’t miss his smirk as he pressed a hot kiss against your throat. Your hips thrust into his hand, wanting him to lead you to orgasm, but he didn’t.

It was only when he had you spread out in front of him—head at the bottom of the bed—and mouth fully on you that you had no trouble holding back anymore.

“Oh, Jesus,” you moaned.

You’d been wasting way too much time not being vocal enough for him because you swore it just made whatever he was doing ten times hotter.

He lifted his head, peeking up at you with a smile.

“Sorry to disappoint babe, but it’s still just Steve.”

You groaned at his joke, foot hitting him playfully on his side causing him to laugh.

Sex had always been good with him, but now it felt less tense, less perfunctory and more fun. More carefree.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled lovingly.

“Ah, but I’m your asshole,” he grinned then blinked, realizing how wrong his statement sounded.

You burst out laughing. At his statement, at the fact that you both could just pause in the middle of oral sex, have a teasing conversation and it be so natural.

“That sounded better in my head,” he grumbled.

You were still shaking in laughter.

But your laughter didn’t last long as it turned into a sharp moan when his tongue flicked your clit, pressing it flat against it. His fingers had done quite the sneak attack, sliding in and adding to the mix before you’d been aware.

He moved at a lazy pace, licking you thoroughly, pumping his fingers steadily. By this point, you had no control over your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t stop, yeah, like that,” you moaned, gripping his hair.

He didn’t until you came, buzzing in your fingers, curling in your toes. He left hot, open mouthed kisses back up your body, his cockiness shining in his eyes.

“That was quite the improvement, sweetheart,” he grinned, “I think you could use a bit more practice, though.”

“Oh, really?” you grinned slyly.

You pushed him back enough so you had room to sit up. Your hands reached for the bottom of the oversized shirt and you peeled it off over your head, letting it fall on the floor next to the bed. Then, you shimmed out of your wrinkled and crumpled panties before laying back before him.

His eyes clouded over, his hot gaze taking in your naked body and you swore you saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard, a deep groan coming from him.

“I’m ready to learn, Steve,” you cooed.

You don’t think you’d ever seen his clothes disappear so fast. You were smirking yourself now, pleased at his eagerness.

“Y/N?” he mumbled against your jaw, where he nipped and sucked.

“Mhm?” you asked, tilting your head to give him full access.

“Just one tip,” he said, spreading your legs with his hands.

“What’s that?”

“Be as loud as you fucking want,” he growled, giving you no notice as he thrust into you.

“Shit,” you hissed.

The stretch of him was an all overpowering feeling, especially when he gave you no warning and went for it as opposed to the slow entrance. Every time, you somehow managed to fit him, though you possibly squeezed the life out of his cock.

You heard no complaints from him, though.

Honestly, how you managed to stay quiet so long was a miracle to you because it seemed to be like now that the gates were open, moans and groans came flooding from you.

“You like that baby?” he teased, angling his hips so he hit deeper.

“Y-Yes,” you gasped, hips gyrating against his.

He was so deep and so hard that he was causing all your nerve endings to short circuit as he moved in you.

His mouth lavished your body, your senses going into overdrive. His hot kisses were spread across your collarbones, over your breasts where he stopped long enough to pull one of your nipples into his mouth and suck hard on it.

“God, Steve,” you moaned, arching into his touch.

He growled in response, the noise sending a bolt of heat directly to your core and you tangled your arms around his body. One hand was thrust in his hair, the other clung to his back.

Even feeling the muscles of his back ripple as he moved over you made you want to moan. You’d turned it on and couldn’t turn it off.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he groaned, mouth hovering over yours so closely that you could feel his uneven breath hitting your face.

“Moan for me, sweetheart.”

That you did, just the intonation of his words making you whimper and whine.

“You’re so good Steve, you’re so good,” you whined, wrapping your legs around him, trying to push him as deep as you could go.

Your muscles were spasming, clenching down on his cock making Steve swear.

“I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that,” he laughed breathlessly.

“Come on baby, cum,” you whispered, tightening around him again, “Want you to cum in me. Fill me up, put a baby in me.”

Sweet Jesus,” he moaned, hips becoming erratic.

You’d have to make note of that reaction much later when your brain wasn’t on the blink.

His hand snaked between your legs, making sure you were finishing with him.

Fireworks might as well have gone off in the room that was an intense as you both came, one sending the other off.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, we he’d finally caught his breath enough to speak.

His lips met yours briefly before smiling down at you.

“Talk about a confidence boost,” he chuckled.

He pulled out of you, already softening, but you had other plans beginning to brew in your mind.

“What can I say? You’re a great teacher,” you giggled, rubbing your hand along his cheek, “One more question though.”

He leaned into your palm, pulling back enough to kiss it.

“Hmm?”

“How long is it gonna take you to recover?” you smirked.

You didn’t miss the wicked gleam in his eye or the huskiness of his voice.

“Why?”

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his cock feeling him respond instantly.

“Because I want to make you moan now.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

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corvus--rex · 3 years

Text

The first part of this is already on Ao3 as part of Julance 2021, and I wanted to throw it up here with the second (unfinished) part of the chapter. It's sleeping for now, but I really want to come back to it. If you've read the first part on Ao3, I said that Keith's a little dark at first, but that he has his reasons - those reasons come in in his part. It is an Omegaverse, with Alpha Lance and Omega Keith. As usual, please feel free to skip it if it's not your thing :)

~*~*~*~

Part 1: Sharpshooter

Unilu was an old neighborhood. One that didn’t care where you came from or where you were going. Didn’t care about dynamics. Didn’t care about where your money came from. The density of the buildings made the area dark even in the middle of the day. The stories said that Altea had been a beautiful city, light and free. That was impossible to see anymore. Daibazaal Industries had taken over long ago, running the nanny-state government from boardrooms.

This was the world Lance McClain navigated through on his way to a bar called Baku’s Den. He was supposed to be meeting up with Florona, a girl he’d been put in contact with. She had connections to a job he was interested in. Omega trafficking wasn’t an uncommon practice, but it was usually female Omegas that were targeted. Some bullshit about delicate beauty and submission he didn’t believe in. Lance’s mother was an Omega, wherever she was. He hoped she was safe; he hadn’t seen her in 8 years. But this trafficking ring was pretty new, and dealing exclusively in male Omegas. Lance had a feeling he knew why.

The Daibazaal state had mandated sterilization for all Betas and some female Omegas. Male Omegas were safe from the invasive procedure. The official reason was that there was a population issue and the city was over-crowded, and that, although unfortunate, it was necessary for even resource distribution, and the statistics showed that male Omegas were far less likely to have children. It was total bullshit. The birth rate had been dropping steadily for years. Some once-thriving neighborhoods had become ghost towns. The only reason a place like Unilu was still holding on was because they looked the other way on most things, becoming a haven of sorts for people like Lance. The Alpha had always had an innate talent for firearms of all types. It was a talent he’d honed into a finely-sharpened skill. One that he used to chip away at Daibazaal and the atrocities they allowed to go unaddressed, like this trafficking ring.

He’d left his hoverbike a few blocks away, making his way to Baku’s Den on foot. He stiffened when he caught the scent of someone coming up beside him, but relaxed when he realized he knew the Beta. It was another runner who went by Rolo. Lance and Rolo had first met when Rolo and his girlfriend Nyma took off with Lance’s hoverbike. He’d gotten it back from the Beta pair and their cyber-terrier Beezer, and they’d eventually become friends of a sort.

Rolo casually sauntered up beside the Alpha. “So, where ya headed?” he asked.

“Just drinks with a girl,” Lance answered. Meeting a contact,was the translation.

The Beta understood. “She pretty?” One of your usual contacts?

“Don’t know. Blind date a friend set up.” No, but I trust the one who set up the meeting.

“Well, good luck with that. Never can tell with some girls. Gimme a call if you need an excuse.” Watch your back. Call if you need backup.

Lance chuckled at the surface sentiment. “Sure. Thanks, man.” Will do.

“Well, I better take Beezer for a walk. Gettin’ late.” Doing a hacking run tonight, but I’ll be nearby.

“Have fun with that. Watch out for any stray cats.” Good luck. Keep an eye out for security bots.

“Eh, they’re easy to scare off.” I can get around them.

By then, they’d reached the block Baku’s Den was on. Lance nodded toward it, Rolo understanding that this was where his meeting was taking place. They parted ways, Lance headed for the bar, and Rolo disappeared around the corner. The sign hologram on the dark grey concrete building sat over the heavy steel door. The sign read Baku’s Den in a stylized typeface with a three-jawed serpent weaving through the letters. The serpent flew – swam? – through the bar’s name on a continual loop, executing a barrel roll around the name every third loop.

The interior looked very much like most other bars Lance had been to, whether meeting fixers or just relaxing. A dark concrete floor was easy to clean (and hide ingrained blood stains) after the inevitable bar fights. Dim lighting was both a blessing and a curse since it kept things more intimate, but it was also harder to spot a weapon. Booths were the same way. Made things more private, but also gave someone the chance to ambush a target. Lance’s cursory sweep was more tactical than he let show. He noted all exit points, where was best for cover, who looked the most dangerous. He also spotted his contact.

Florona sat at the edge of the booth in the back corner. She had closely cut maroon hair except for a white swath down the middle that was cut longer and swept to one side. Her gloss black cybernetic eyes had no visible sclera or iris, but he knew she was looking at him. He could see her brown leather jacket with dark red accents and skin-tight burgundy pants and heavy boots. It was also a pretty safe guess that she was armed. Just as it was a near certainty that Florona wasn’t her real name.

Lance McClain certainly wasn’t his. But when he was separated from his family at 16, he left Leandro Dávila behind. He made a new identity for himself, one that let him not stand out at all, one that let him hide. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything left of Leandro in him. Leandro had been a hopeful, optimistic child. Lance was hardened by years of fighting, jaded by harsh reality. Leandro would have been afraid of Lance. It was a smart thing to be.

Some people, like Florona, wore their cybernetics for the world to see. Implants and attachments that were blatantly obvious. Rarer were those like Lance. He’d lost his eyes after a run gone wrong. The crew he was with sold him out when they thought the other side would pay better for it. They blinded him, but even without sight, he was still able to take them out and escape. He’d called his fixer, who got him help. His cybernetics looked natural, as close to his original blue as they could get. But they were fully functional cyberware. Top of the line a few years back. Night vision, infrared, zooming, even the ability to limit the amount of light received – all linked in. By blinding him, his old crew made sure he would never be blinded again. Not too long after that, he lost his left hand. That run was successful, but Lance had gotten caught in crossfire and an unlucky shot blew out his wrist, shredding tendons and splintering bone. The new one was indistinguishable from his right, the artificial skin blending seamlessly with the organic.

Lance had no choice but to slide into the booth facing away from the door, forcing him to trust Florona with his personal safety. He nodded to her, careful not to say a word until he was seated. “Florona.” It was a statement, a greeting, a question, a confirmation.

“McClain,” she returned, “Or would you prefer Sharpshooter?”

He put on the illusion of relaxing, something he never truly did. “Lance is fine,” he said casually.

Florona’s lips twitched with an amused huff. “Alright, Lance. I’m going to order us drinks while we wait,” she said, signaling to the aqua-haired waitress.

“Waiting for what?” This wasn’t what Lance was expecting, and now he was getting nervous.

“Your partner.”

“Partner? That’s news to me. What can you tell me about them?”

The waitress came over, waiting for what she was sure would be Florona’s usual order. “Nunvil,” Florona said – no surprises there. “And bring the bottle.”

Lance whistled low. “You go hard.”

Florona raised a perfect eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

“Never said I didn’t. So, what about this partner?”

She leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the booth. “Best fuckin’ swordsman I’ve ever seen. Stealth type. He’s got this one blade – let’s just say I never want to be on the wrong side of it.”

The waitress returned setting unopened bottle and a pair of glasses on the table. When she left, Florona made a show of breaking the seal on the bottle. She poured both glasses, and Lance idly played with the rim of his.

“What’s so special about this blade?” he asked. He was genuinely curious, but made sure she didn’t know that.

“Ultraviolet hard-light. Keeps it maglocked to a sheath on his back. Bio-activated so no one but him can use it. I got to see what happens when someone tried to take it once. Wasn’t pretty. New guy tried to hit on him. Pretty forcefully, but he didn’t know what he was in for.”

Interesting information. This mysterious partner of his was a known factor here. Lance wasn’t sure if Florona had mentioned that part to remind him that he was an outsider in Unilu or if she just considered it part of the story.

“I should tell you what to expect from him before he gets here. You're an Alpha, and he may take offense to that. He’s an Omega, and a lifetime of bad experiences makes him resent Alphas on sight.”

“That’s fair,” he said, and finally picked up his glass. He actually enjoyed the silky burn as it went down. “Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t piss him off. He’s not likely to actually kill you, but the threat will be there.”

“Anything else that’s not vague and threatening?” Lance asked, draining his glass.

“Mm, nope.” Florona refilled both their glasses, and Lance saw the tiniest movement of her looking to the bar. “Except that he’s coming over. Better get ready, he’s an experience.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2: Samurai

Keith stashed his heavily modified hoverbike in an alley barely a block away from Baku’s Den, activating the chameleon hologram that would keep it out of sight. He was familiar with both the Unilu neighborhood in general and Baku’s Den in particular, and knew to be cautious. It wasn’t just the relative lawlessness of the area that kept his guard up. Nowhere was truly safe for a male Omega in Altea. Not anymore, not with the disappearances that he now knew were a major Omega trafficking ring.

Knowing that the upper echelons of Altean society were buying and selling male Omegas like prized pets made his blood boil. It was assumed they were being taken as breeders, to be used to give the city’s elite heirs until their bodies gave out. But Keith had seen the kinds of things that happened to Omegas, male or female. Breeding was only part of it. He was lucky that he hadn’t been taken, but he’d freed more than a few who were in similar situations. Kidnapped or given away to Alphas, and even Betas, and abused into being the “perfect” Omega. It varied depending on the human garbage controlling the Omega. Docile, submissive servants, hypersexualized walking sex toys, psychologically broken breeding stock for their Alphas, and that was the better end. He’d seen Omegas so physically, emotionally, mentally broken that there was no saving them. Death was a welcome rest for them, but not for the abusers. He felt nothing for them as people when he put them down, only a sense of relief that they would never harm another Omega.

Keith was mainly a runner specializing in stealth and close combat. Taking out low-level Omega trafficking was what he did between runs. If working opposite Daibazaal Industries and its only subsidiary, Galra Technologies, was what amounted to Keith’s day job, his vigilante justice for trafficked and abused Omegas was his passion project. It was what made him jump at the chance to at least help bring down the biggest trafficking ring the city had ever seen. He didn’t know Florona well, but he trusted her boss Luxia, and she was the one who first had the intel for the run being offered.

The exterior of Baku’s Den was its usual façade of calm, as much as a high-class dive bar could be. Keith knew as well as anyone that a fight could break out at any time and for any reason. Just walking in made him uneasy, especially when he opened the door to a loud argument in progress between members of a runner team he’d seen there before. Almost subconsciously, his hand went toward the hard-light blade he kept sheathed on his lower back at all times. The near-fight ended with raucous laughter and a call for another round of drinks. He dropped his hand with a relieved sigh and made his way to the bar, intentionally catching Florona’s eye on the way.

“Keith! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Luxia greeted him.

“Yeah, been busy,” he answered, “Just finished another run last night. Anything I should know about this guy before I head over?”

She shrugged. “Experienced runner. Long-range firearms specialist. Got a couple cybernetics, but nothing obvious.” Luxia knew Keith’s preferred drink, and set the glass of SilveRing down in front of him, the dim lighting of the bar illuminating the juniberry-distilled, deep magenta alcohol from within and highlighting the silvery ring settled around the perimeter of the liquid surface. “Just so you know, he’s an Alpha, but I can tell he’s not just in it for the money. Don’t know what his deal is with that, but he seemed legitimately pissed at the idea of Omegas being trafficked.”

“Good to know. He’s still an Alpha.” Keith finished his drink, Luxia refilling it without a word. “Well, better head over there. Run’s more important than some Alpha.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19* | 20* | 21*

#my writing #abandoned wips #keith kogane #lance mcclain #alpha lance mcclain #omega keith kogane #klance #keith x lance #abo #omegaverse #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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dippedanddripped · 4 years

Link

A Q&A With Keary Kase On Pioneering Hip Hop In Portland

Trenton, NJ born rapper Keary Kase is now pioneering hip hop from Portland, Oregon. After having been involved in a Nike ad campaign that featured him on Billboards across the US, Keary’s singles began to top the radio charts. He began to work with artists like The Wutang Clan and producers Bosko and Non-Stop Da Hitman. Most recently, he partnered with Adidas designers in Portland to develop ‘Reder’ – an athletic apparel brand with focus on CBD delivery systems for athletes who are recovering from injuries.

We had the chance to sit down with Keary Kase to talk about Portland’s thriving hip hop scene, his Nike campaign, and what fans and followers can expect in 2020.

Tell us a little bit about the hip hop scene in Portland. We’d love to know more!

Portland hip hop has so many facets, I’m not sure where to begin. We do have a solid foundation of originals, like Mic Crenshaw, Cool Nutz, Mellenium (Kenny Mack), Maniac Lok, Bosko, Vursatyl, X-Kid, DJ Wicked, Pete Miser and myself, who are still active.

Having strong artists, who have made careers in Hip Hop, as role models and idols allows the kids to aspire to become musical artists. Without these examples, the endless call to normalcy and job security (which we all now know is B/S) by pretty much EVERYBODY, would lead these young Ore-guns to self doubt and failure.

Mike Capes, Swiggle Mandela, Drae Steve’s, JR Patton and Keith Canvas are a few Portland artists to check out.

Right now, a lot of artists are showing support to the BLM movement using their voices to speak, rather than rap to those participating in protests, rallies and such.

How do you feel being originally from the east coast has affected your musical style?

In my embryonic years, I saw myself as an east coast rapper. I felt like, with the exception of rappers like Ice T, Too Short, NWA and The DOC, west coast rappers were mostly basic compared to east coast rappers. They had KRS, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick (my favorite golden era rapper), Special ED, Kool G Rap & Polo, RAKIM!!! Plus WBLS used to play all the hot new shit off the block.

I was enamored by east coast swagger and tone. The slang and accent was natural for me because my entire family spoke with it. My ability to slip in and out of the style made me different in Portland.

In the early 90’s I started spending time in LA. I was slanging FIMO beads to tourists at Venice Beach in the daylight and going to clubs and shows at night. I met this dude named Self Jupiter at this summer festival called The African Marketplace, where I was selling jewelry and celebrating my black youth. Jupiter was a member of a rap group called Freestyle Fellowship. He gave me a tape. After I listened to it, my entire opinion of west coast hip hop was turned upside down. I witnessed west coast rappers like Volume 10, WC, Divine Styler, Cypress Hill and E40 change the game. I became influenced by them and my style was set free. I became open to all influences, no matter if they came from the east, west, northwest, midwest or south.

Tell us more about the Nike ad campaign you were featured in. How did that come about?

One day I was leaving my boy Tommy Hestmark’s studio in downtown Portland. I was walking down the street with my back straight and my chest and chin up, as all men and women should. This guy approached me and said “excuse me, can I talk to you?” I looked at him sideways and he says “no, no. It’s just…. Your face is CRAZY!” I squinted as if to say “do you hear yourself fool?” He pulls out a card and explains that he owned a modeling agency and he thought my look was money. He asked me to call to schedule a test shoot. I called and scheduled the shoot. When I went there, he asked me if I was wearing boxers. I confirmed, then he asked me if I would take some test shots in my boxers. I’m thinking this dude is either going to proposition me for sex or he wants to see if I can be the next face of Calvin Klein. I gambled on Calvin Klein and agreed to take the pics. We walked into a hall and he said “you can get undressed here,” then walked away. So there I stood baring all that my boxers would not cover, with my clothes in a small pile on the floor. I heard footsteps, then an attractive woman appears holding a camera. It was his wife. She told me where to stand , took a couple quick pics and said “Keary, you’re a machine,” then allowed me to get dressed and walked me out.

A few weeks later they called me back and said a photographer knew of me and wanted to do a martial arts shoot. There was no pay, but the photographer was well known and really good. I had no portfolio, and no published work so this was an opportunity to do TFP to add to my comp card.

The photographer, Marcus Swanson, wanted me to do a flying sidekick, which is a classic taekwondo photo kick. When I got there, there was nowhere to get a running start so I improvised and pulled it off. While I was there, a Nike scout was lurking. As I was leaving, Marcus’ assistant, Amber Geiger, mentioned a potential shoot for Nike and asked if they could do a quick polaroid. Snap snap and I was out. A few months passed by before I got a call back from my agent about the shoot. In those few months, I became a black belt, won a gold medal at the the regional national qualification tournament in the black belt dividion, then a silver medal at the US National Championship, and was leaving in a few days to go whoop everybody’s ass at the invitational US Team Trials. It didn’t play out that way but I believe being so active in the few months between the martial arts test shoot and the paid shoot is what influenced their decision to go with me for the ad campaign. We agreed on a date and time, after my return, for the shoot.

When I got back, we did the shoot. I thought it was going to be light work but it was brutal. Modeling is hardcore. I remember seeing myself on a billboard for the first time. It felt like a distant relative to masturbation. I also remember it taking forever to get my money. Agencies can be gangster. I had to make some very firm promises before I got the check. After that, our relationship became square.

You have worked with several platinum artists and producers. Do you have any memorable stories about your experiences that you’d like to share?

Hmm. I don’t like to deride or D-RIDE anyone, but there was an interesting encounter with a Wu-Tang Clan member named Cappadonna. Cappadonna, Killa Priest and a small crew they were touring with were staying at my house when they stopped through Portland. My roommate, MyG, was helping them do some business in Portland while they killed time before their next tour date. At the time, we had a lil 5 bedroom spread with 2 recording studios in it, so we let their whole crew crash at the spot. The house was already like a revolving door for whoever was on tour in the NW. Artists could come through while in town and collab, get local pub through us and be blessed with some Oregon grown greeneries for the road.

So this was the first time we met (Cappadonna & I). I was taking acting classes at the time so I was gone when they pulled up. When I got home after class, Cappadonna was in the booth. I walked in the room and he started talking wild like “aye yo break that nigga watch!…stab that nigga!” I’m standing in a room full of dudes, with New York energy, that I don’t know, so I assumed he was talking about me. I dip out to my room and get a screwdriver just so I have something in my hand incase things go left. A few minutes pass, then MyG tells Cappadonna to move on to the next part. At this moment I realize he’s in character and not talking about me at all. Killah Priest enters the room. We introduce ourselves and dap up. He asks me what I do and I tell him that I’m in acting school. When Cap comes out, KP says “this is Kase, he’s an actor.” They gave each other a look that, to me , expressed what he spoke as “this is Kase, he’s a fake nigga.”

Granted, I’ve been a skater since day 1, so I understand that some black people (especially at the time) associate being a black skater with being less black or more white. With that in mind, I let what he said breeze by.

After we blessed up, we got to the business. Bosko had let me hold a beat that I wrote a sticky verse to; Cappa liked it so I let him put a hook on it. Me and KP did a DOPE song on a track that this dude named Smoke produced. It sounded like some official Wu-affiliate shit. MyG lost the session so none of that material was ever released.

The next day the energy still felt suspect. Like they thought I was a suburban negro, lol. I took them to the block, which is now gentrified, but was still hood at the time. Cappa called my whip a 666. It was the same Denali XL with the same 26” Trump Spinners that was in the video for the song he was promoting at the time, but mine was cleaner. It seemed like he felt a way about it. We went to my mom’s restaurant, where Cappa requested a Psalms verse from my mother. She said “how about a Revelation,” and laced all of us.

I dropped them at the barber shop to get faded and bladed. When they came out, the energy was different. Cappadonna got in and said “you know your hood and your hood knows you. He said you put your moms in that restaurant, didn’t you?” I just looked at him and put my hand out. We dapped up and the respect, which was first being given by me and received by him, suddenly felt mutual.

Cappadonna is a wise dude and a beast MC. I asked him questions related to his lyrics. He explained to me what “God Degree” and “7:30” meant and told me the story of the origin of his name. You might be able to detect that I’m most definitely still a Wu-Tang fan, although I liked his earlier work. KP knows what I mean by that.

Tell us about your involvement with the CBD industry and your views on how it can be a therapeutic tool for people?

CBD is my go-to treatment for a number of conditions. If I am anxious, I use a non-psychoactive tincture. This gives me a general sense of well-being, without making me feel altered or high. I feel like myself on a good day. If I need to restful sleep, I employ a cannabinoid rich CBD blend that allows me to drift off into REM without jumping up 100 times to make sure the garage door is closed (or whatever). Using CBD is like taking premium vitamins.

In 2019, I started a company called Nina Botanica with a material designer who works for Adidas in Portland. I began researching how to use compression technology as a CBD delivery system for athletic injury rehabilitation. There are some products on the market that offer a similar product, but none that fully address the issues of muscle strains, tears and associated pain that can knock an athlete off of their game. What sets us apart is, our CBD compression system has a lifetime guarantee. You can use it until you’re tired of using it.

We also designed a pod based delivery system, called the NINA , with Shenzen based technology company Smoore. The smart hexagonal pod + cartridge system uses inductive charging in place of the industry standard USB to power up.

Due to COVID-19 and our current bout with systemic racism, the techy products will be in preliminary production until mid-late 2021.

Tell us about your latest project “Craze”. Who is involved and what inspired it?

I was a week back on after being off music for years. Just getting my lungs back, not planning on dropping anything yet; just warming up. An artist named Uneek, who had been my mentee for several years, reached out. He was talking about how he blew all of his savings on medical expenses for his seed and how William, Lil Willi and Big Bill were all coming for him at once. He had just got robbed in Atlanta, so he was shy about who he could trust in Portland.

Uneek asked me to help him to rebrand himself and act as a manager, as I did in the beginning of his career. Since he had just found the strength to come out about his sexual identity, he wanted to look to the LBGTQ community for support. Since that was outside of my sphere of influence, I decided to help him generate some traffic in his home studio, offering tracking and mixing as an engineer. I told him we could put out a mixtape to re-introduce him to his followers and the rest of the world. I got 15 tracks from producers, Sixteen and J Doe. I wanted to see how serious he was about his career so I told him to put hooks on all 15. He would send me a rough lyric or melody, then I would write or rewrite the lyrics then massage the melody and coach him on how to execute it. After he did it, I would chop it and arrange it in a Logic, while I was on the road.

Once the mixtape concepts were in the bag, I told him we needed a real record to kick it off. There was a lot of material in his catalog, but nothing that sounded like a hit single to me.

He got a track from this lil dude named 64 and put a hook on it that had us laughing. He was like “yeah this track sound like something Da Baby would get on.” It wasn’t my style, really, but I kept getting drawn into the drums. I let the first line go off the top then it seemed like the rest of the lyrics were just there. We called it “She A Thot.” It dropped on all platforms back in April of this year.

Craze, the follow up single, manifested itself off of the vibe we were on after “She A Thot” dropped. 64 had sent us a 3 pack of beats so it had some of the same feel as the others, however, the “Craze” beat was much more elegant than the other two.It was like the bigger, sexier, more mature and pondering sister of the “She A Thot” beat.

When I started writing, I felt the beat asking me to confess. It was saying “tell your truth, Kase.” The melody in my head was so balanced that I just let it drive through the first verse. I remembered, as a young man, being so caught up in hustling that I lost my compassion for people. I reflected on how I had spent the last decade, since my first daughter was born, re-approaching life with more compassion.

Whatever you have done in your past does not define you. But sometimes it’s good to talk about it. Black people have traditionally been afraid of counseling or therapy. Mostly because of our trust issues with the people providing those services. I strongly suggest talking to someone about the things that trouble you. My uncle Jeff calls it “dumping.”

Music is my therapy. Dumping is my new craze.

What artists are you listening to right now and why?

I like listening to new music. I’m listening to Lil Durk, Pop Smoke, Amine, Jack Harlow, etc. But that’s like research for me. I like to see and hear what the big dogs are investing in. But right now, I’m developing a K-Pop artist, so I’m listening Big Hit Entertainment’s people. I’m about to go over there and liberate some musical slaves. (*artists)

But I still listen to Sade.

What’s next for you in 2020? What can fans look forward to?

I’m dropping a mixtape later this month. I may be doing a record + video with Compton artist, AD in the next few weeks. We’re still working out the details, but he’s doing real good right now.

Other than that, I’m developing a young K-Pop idol named Kiari. That genre is making big waves. I’m also looking at television as a next play. I have a pocket ace in the Chinese market that I’m keeping tucked. Oh I’m doing business with China. Sorry Chump…I mean, Sorry Trump. No, wait, I had it right the first time.

#keary kase #pdx hiphop artist #pdx artist #portland oregon #music blog

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secretblog1212 · 5 years

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Brown Haired Beauty

A fic inspired by @ticklishraspberries cute concept about Steve. This is what happened when I mess my sleep schedule up even worse than before I guess.

cute concept: there’s a person who comes into the video store that steve starts to actually really crush on and not just wanna flirt with to show off his “skills” to robin. he actually gets flustered when they come in and robin can tell so quickly and, as his best friend, HAS to tease him about it!!! also, one day while that person is there, robin sneaks up behind steve and tickles his sides and he SQUEALS and the person sees and gets all smiley and clearly finds it adorable ahhhh.

She was more than just cute. The sun was practically bouncing off her, lighting up her face when she smiled and laughed at some comment her friend made. She was more than just cute, Steve thought, she was the physical embodiment of carefree, teenage, innocence.

Steve didn’t know how long he’d been staring, slumped into his fist against the counter top.

Robin did, three minutes and twenty eight seconds. It was only a matter of time before the poor girl noticed and got scared away. Sure the girl was nice looking but not someone she’d fall head over heels for. Steve seemed to of already fallen though, he dove straight into the water without a second of hesitation. And that scared Robin a little, she didn’t want to see him get hurt.

Four minutes and six seconds.

The group, three girls and two guys, had chosen their movie and were making their way over. Steve however, was still fixated on the, admittedly pretty, brunette skipping backwards up to the cash register.

Ever the quick thinker Robin acted. She reached forward and grabbed onto his sides, intending to shake him out of his daze. She was not expecting the squeal that escaped him, or him to dive down in a sad attempt to hide, leaving her standing, five people staring at her in shock.

“Hey, I can take you over here if you want.” She offered, forcing a smile across her face.

The five shuffled over to where she was, Steve still trying his hardest to become one with the floor. The brunette was in the lead, and slid the movie to Robin. She peered past the register and her eyes landed on the blob on the floor.

She had to give props when they were due, the girl didn’t give it away if she was surprised. She only seemed intrigued, tilting her head for a better view.

“The Neverending Story, I’ve heard good things about it. You’ll have to give us a review when you turn it back in.”

She nodded along again, her eyes never leaving poor Steve on the floor who had yet to look up.

“Your total is going to be $2.53.”

A nudge from one of the boys seemed to put her back in reality. “Oh yeah, of course. Two fifty three you said, right?”

She handed Robin three dollars, and Steve glanced to her as she handed it over. Robin bit her lip and gave him a side eye. He didn’t catch on, instead he looked to the group, where the girl was casting him one last look before her friends were dragging her away.

Both of their faces flushed apple red.

With a ding of the door little Mrs.Beauty was gone, and Robin had no issue sinking down to the floor laughing.

“I can’t believe you!” She said, wheezing and out of breath. “What even was that Dingus, Holy shit.”

Steve have her shin an annoyed push. “Shut up Buckley.”

Buckley did not shut up.

“I mean, she was decent looking, but you went all googoo eyes for her and-“

“Okay she was not just decent looking, she was stunning okay. Completely and utterly-“

“Then I tired to save you before she turned around and you- what even was that noise oh my god! You sounded like a little girl-“

“You just don’t understand beauty at its finest and I did not sound like a little girl you- No! Don’t touch me!”

Robin reach forward to grab back onto his side, just above his hip and squeezed. Instead of the amazing squeal he gave before he let out a stream of giggles and made a desperate attempt to push her hands away.

“Oh Stevey man, why didn’t you tell me you were ticklish? Now I have to make up for lost time buddy.”

Steve’s blush instantly flared back to full strength at the taunt.

“Were at wohork! Rohobihen noho.”

Bribing her left hand into the battle with quick poke style attacks Steve quickly was a mess. He tried to grab her hands, always a second to slow to stop the jab at his ribs, and the squeeze to his thigh. His neck scrunched up when she fluttered over his collar, giggles turning light and airy as he gave into the feeling and sunk against the cabinets.

“Harrington, Buckley, I need you to do inventory before you leave today!” Keith called, walking over from the science fiction part of the store. “Go to the back and I’ll watch front.”

Steve jumped up and dusted himself off, speed walking away from the cash register as fast as he could. Robin followed, smiling to Keith when he gave her a questioning look.

She caught up and watched him back up into a corner. She had to smile at that, this might just be the best discovery she ever made.

“Don’t you worry Harrington, I’ll wait till you least expect it. That’s when I’ll finish the job.”

With a quick poke to the side as he stood next to her she decided she could draw this out a bit longer.

The next two days were pure torture, for Steve at least. Robin was thriving off her new found power. She didn’t even have to touch him! If she just wiggles her fingers in his direction he caved to anything she said.

So when the door chimed and the brown haired beauty shyly walked up to the counter, Robin couldn’t help but shove Steve forward.

“Um, hey. How can I help you?” He stuttered. God he was a mess, a blushing adorably in love mess.

“I have this movie, I needed to return.”

She seemed equally as flustered. They would be cute together, Robin admitted to herself.

Steve stuttered the rest of his way through the encounter, but she didn’t turn away when he told her to have a nice day. Instead she swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “My names Charlie, I was wondering if you would be free sometime this week.”

Her voice was strong, much more confident than the soft wavering whisper of before.

Steve stares, slack jawed. Robin, always coming in to save his ass delivered a jumpstarting poke to the side.

He jerked away from her, face turning quite the shade of pink as he rambled off his response.

“Yeah, yeah. I would love to. Um I’m Steve, I- here’s a paper, I’ll call you tonight to figure something out.”

Charlie giggled a little, reaching for the pen and paper in Steve’s hand.

“Talk to you around eight then Steve.”

“Yeah, eight.” He breathed, watching as the girl made her way to the door. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled before leaving the video store.

Robin couldn’t help herself. “Harrington’s got a date~” she sang with a dozen pokes assaulting his sides and stomach.

He jerked away and chuckled, swatting at her fingers.

“Yeah yeah, too bad we don’t have that board anymore. That’s one for the You Rule side.”

“Nah, she was the one pulling the conversation buddy.”

Their banter continued, unfortunately with more pokes and teases. But Steve couldn’t complain, eight was only a few hours away.

#st #stranger things #tickles #steve harrington #ticklish steve #steve and robin #robin buckley #tickle fic #fic #hes literally a mess #hardcore crushing #steve is babey #steves a giggly bitch #literally wrote this and read it over once so probably shit but oh well #this is what happens when i dont go to bed #sorry not sorry

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hazelandglasz · 5 years

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Voltron Legendary Patissier (A Shklance AU)

I came across a wonderful drawing by @lemonjuiceday when visiting a con and I was immediately inspired to write this little fic. Nothing major, just a bout of fluff and food porn for our favorite boys (strictly food porn, you pervs ;))

On AO3

Lance didn’t expect to find himself in such a position, caught between two hard chests while working his part-time job.

Then again, he didn’t expect his part-time job to be in a bakery.

“A pâtisserie, not a bakery,” his boss insists, his fond, exasperated smile growing less and less fond and more and more exasperated with each time he has to repeat it to one of them.

Lance doesn’t blame him, he would be very specific too about his craft if he was … well, as crafty as Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, his associate and their apprentices.

While Shiro splits his time between the kitchen and the till, Lance strictly works behind the counter, serving the customers and writing down the special orders.

And daydreaming about the way Shiro’s biceps flex so wonderfully in his tight shirt, and how mesmerizing are his eyes when he watches someone trying something new fresh out of the oven …

“Lance?”

And just how beautiful he is, inside and out.

“For Apicius’ sake, Lance, snap out of it!”

Lance blinks back into the moment and back to the voice calling his name in such a pissed off manner.

Sure enough, Lance’s binome glares at him, angrily shoving delicate little chouquettes in a paper bag while their customer smiles at them, her eyes moving back between them as if watching a tennis match.

“Yes, my dear colleague, how can I help you?” he replies sweetly--too sweetly to be subtle, if the intensification of Keith’s glare (and of the customer’s giggle) is any indication.

“For the third time, since we apparently lost you in the void between your ears,” Keith replies in the same dulcet tone, “can you, please, if it’s not too much of an imposition for you to move, get in the kitchen and get back mille-feuilles for the showcase?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Lance says, winking at the still-giggling customer while simultaneously hip-checking Keith out of his way, “of course, of course.”

Keith’s sigh still reaches Lance’s ears before the door closes between the two rooms. Lance takes a moment to breathe.

As much as he finds Shiro attractive and amazing, he cannot shake the itch that has crawled under his skin ever since he met Keith Kogane.

A need to punch him in his perfect face, with his fist or with his mouth, the jury is still out on that one.

Keith has seniority over Lance but he also works only in the front of the store.

And thus lays Lance’s problem.

While he can escape Shiro’s … shironess every now and then, Keith’s mindfucking keithness is always around him, hovering, glaring, grumbling in a way that should not be as sexy as it is, dammit.

So, yeah, Lance is in a hell of his own making and, heartache be damned, he loves every minute of it.

Okay, this has gone on for too long.

Lance cannot prove it, but he would bet his favorite nerfgun that Shiro is doing it on purpose.

It here serves as a summary of everything that Shiro does around the shop: carelessly shaking his hips to the sound of the music drifting from the records shop next door, licking the tip of his fingers when he accidentally gets cream on them.

Accidentally, right, as if.

And he supposes Shiro also left a flour handprint on Keith’s ass by accident.

By all that he holds dear, Lance is not mentally equipped to deal with the image of those two together, together.

Separately, they are already forces to be reckoned with and Lance tries really har--ahem--he really tries his best to stay professional and not do something stupid, like drool all over them.

But if they are together?

Well, that takes care of his fantasies of dating either of them, but that sparks a fire under the possibility of dating them both.

Madre de dios, he’s only human and that’s just, to quote the great 21st century philosopher Bruno Mars, too hot, hot damn.

Lance sighs before shaking his head.

He needs to focus. If he cannot have the man, men, whatever, of his dreams, then he’s going to work, and have one aspect of his life that will be successful.

Oh, they’re out of Divorcés.

As there are no customers in the shop at the moment, Lance skips to the kitchen to get a tray of the delicious pastry.

Except that there is a conversation taking place that he is not supposed to hear and cannot resist any way.

“... insane, Shiro.”

“It would be complicated, sure, but--”

“Complicated? Try disastrous. You know that I agree with you on how attractive he is, but bringing him into our relationship? Let me spell it out for you: D-I-S-...”

“Keith …”

“Shiro …”

“Come on, babe,” a soft, wet sound pauses the conversation, “you’re always ranting about ways to shut him up.”

A soft laugh answers that, one that Lance would definitely characterize as a giggle if it didn’t come out of Keith “Badass” Kogane’s lips.

“You think that would do the trick?”

“No,” Shiro replies, laughter in the back of his voice, “but maybe you wouldn’t object if what came out of that beautiful, pouty mouth was moans and your name.”

“Or yours.”

“Or both.”

“God, Shiro …”

More wet sound that leaves little to Lance’s overactive imagination, and he flees the hallway to get back to the safety of the bright shop, where no one talks about threesomes and moaning and beautiful bodies intertwined …

Lance snaps his eyes shut and takes a deep breath just as the bell over the door rings.

“Welcome to Paladelicious, how can I sweeten your day?” he says reflexively, putting a smile on his face.

If he focuses on his job, he’ll find a way to bury his feelings, be it his lust or his jealousy over the man Shiro and Keith apparently want to bring into their bed.

Lucky bastard.

Or he can quit.

Lance doesn’t want to, he really likes this job, especially since he adores the world of pastry and really could see himself thriving in this field.

But.

This is just too painful.

He knows that neither Shiro nor Keith saw him eavesdropping on them, but ever since that day, Keith’s glare only intensified and Shiro is …

Well Shiro is Shiro, welcoming and warm like a cozy sweater and a hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled on top, but there is something behind his gaze that pulls on Lance’s heartstrings.

It’s with a heavy heart indeed that Lance came to the conclusion that he has to leave Paladelicious, and he’s not the only one already regretting it.

“Dude.”

“Hunk, don’t try to change my mind.”

“B-but, Lance!” Hunk still continues while Lance keeps on writing his resignation letter to Shiro--yes, he’s taking the cowards way out of writing to instead of facing Shiro, but can anyone really blame him?

“Lance, Lance, Lance, Lance, I’ll continue to say your name until you stop and look at me, Lance, Lance, Lance, L--”

“Hunk! Stop it,” Lance replies, making the rookie mistake of looking up at his best friend.

Because in spite of his height and bulk, the only real danger coming from Hunk Garrett is his puppy eyes.

“You don’t really want to leave us, do you Lance?”

“Of course I don’t want to!” Lance explodes. “But the alternative, it’s just too … too much for my--”

Before Lance can finish his sentence, his mouth finds itself otherwise occupied.

With an oversized chou, which is definitely on the petit side.

“Hmph!!!”

“Eat.”

“Hunpbdfrr!”

“You’ll thank me later. No one can be as moody as you were after my praline’d crème pat. And then we can close this silly conversation.”

As reluctant as he may be, Lance has to admit it: Hunk’s crème patissiere could ungrump the grumpiest of Grumps.

“Grumph.”

“Swallow.”

Lance laughs, most of the chou soothing his soul and filling his stomach already. “You know I always do.”

Behind them, at the piano, Pidge tsks as they boil several caramels in copper pans.

“Now, do you still want to leave? That means no more free goodies.”

“You’d still feed me some goodies when we get together, Hunk, don’t lie to yourself.”

Hunk blushes. “You’re probably right. But no more trying out my ideas if you’re not here.”

“You wanna leave?”

All three heads turn toward the door where Keith is standing, face even paler than usual and, oh dear Lord who has no mercy on Lance, hair tied in a messy bun.

Hunk and Pidge turn to Lance, a question in their eyes. What are you going to do now?

“I--I have considered it,” Lance mumbles. “May be best for everybody, all things considered.”

Even though I don’t want to. Even though it will hurt like a thousand knives dipped in hot sauce.

“But, I thought we--we bonded ...,”Keith opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, eyebrows going from a frown to sad before settling on anger again; funny how Lance never noticed how expressive those eyebrows were before.

“Fine,” Keith finally says, voice a lot colder than it ever was. “Do whatever you want, like I care. Not having to deal with you will bemmph?!”

Apparently, chou-shoving is Hunk’s move of the day.

“Do not. Finish. That sentence.” Hunk’s voice is frighteningly normal. Lance would be glad not to be on the receiving end of that tone if his mind was not replaying Keith’s words on repeat, with added acidic commentary.

Like I care. See, silly, he really does not need you in his life, not even as a co-worker so can you imagine dating him? It’s a wonder how you can even walk and breathe at the same time. Time for you to be useless somewhere else.

“Hunk, what the hell?!”

“We want Lance to stay and you are being mean.”

“You could have killed me!”

“With a chou? A deadly weapon for sure.”

“Guys?”

“What?”

“Lance left.”

Hunk glares at Keith. “Go fix what you broke.”

“But …”

“I am not afflicted with Lance’s obliviousness. Go; get him back. For everybody’s sake.”

Keith repeats his goldfish impression before giving Hunk a firm nod and rushing out.

Hunk picks a chou from the plate and munches on it. “Stupid men being stupid, amiright?”

Pidge nods vigorously, opening the chou open to suck on the creme. “Men being men, then.”

“Hey!”

“Not all men are as wise as you, Mr Garrett.”

“A’right, can’t deny it.”

Shiro doesn’t say a word, once Keith is done explaining what just happened in the lab.

He doesn’t frown, he doesn’t glare, he doesn’t yell.

He stands, shakes his head and opens the door to his office, aka the door to the back alley behind the store, nodding toward his bike.

Overall, Keith feels shittier than he did when he heard Hunk talking about Lance leaving, which is saying something.

He almost would have preferred for Shiro to scream at him.

At a redlight between the store and Lance’s place, Shiro pats Keith’s hands crossed over his stomach.

In Shironese, that pat means “it will be okay but you fucked up, my love.”

Keith tightens his hold on him.

In Keithan, that means “I am so sorry I got scared I fucked please forgive me.”

Since Lance took the bus back to his place, the three of them arrive at the same time.

Keith can see the moment Lance spots them on Shiro’s bike: Lance’s eyes widen and he stumbles.

“Lance, can we have a word?”

God bless Shiro for keeping his cool.

“What more is there to say?” Lance replies dejectedly with the saddest shrug Keith has ever witnessed. Now that he’s closer, Keith can see how red his eyes are and how pink his nose, and he cannot help the mixed feelings of guilt and adoration for the man standing in front of them that threaten to submerge him.

“I think Keith here has something to say,” Shiro replies softly, not so gently nudging Keith forward. “And I wouldn’t mind adding my two cents to what seems to be a classic miscommunication-provoked mess.”

Lance considers them, the unhappy downturn of his mouth increasing until he sighs, dropping his head to his chest. “Fine, come on up.”

Shiro and Keith exchange a look before following Lance up the flights of stairs leading to his apartment.

Keith spares a second to take in his environment and he has to repress the smile that threatens to appear at the sight around him. Lance’s place looks, well, it looks like him, warm and just a little bit messy but inviting and comfortable.

“Keith?” Shiro calls him, one eyebrow raised perfectly to push Keith to get on with his apology already.

Keith turns to Lance with a deep, strengthening breath. “Lance, I--I’m sorry for what I said back at the shop. I felt, um, I was hurt by the idea of you leaving us so suddenly, because, well, I--I, err, don’t want you to leave. The shop. Or,” he pauses, blidnly reaching for Shiro behind him, “or us, really.”

Lance’s eyes drop to their joined hands and if anything, his arms tighten around his torso.

Almost as if he’s trying to hold himself together.

“We don’t want you to leave,” Shiro repeats, taking a step toward Lance while still holding Keith’s hand.

Lance’s frown increases. “‘S not like I’m such an important cog in the Paladelicious’ machine,” he mumbles, turning his back to them.

Shiro blinks before sighing fondly. Keith is familiar with that sigh.

It’s Shiro’s “God knows why I am getting myself in such a mess, but boy do I love every minute with you” sigh.

“Lance,” he says quietly, letting go of Keith’s hand to put both his hands on Lance’s shoulders, “I didn’t say a word about my store.”

Lance freezes before following the motion Shiro’s hands are provoking.

When he faces them again, his eyes are wide and shiny. “What are you sayin’?”

“I’m saying that we,” Shiro moves his hands from Lance’s shoulders to his cheeks, “want you in our lives.”

Lance’s mouth parts open, eyes darting to Keith. “Both of you? You--with me?”

Keith takes the one step separating him from the two other men and cups the back of Lance’s head. “Both of us, with you,” he whispers before leaning over Shiro’s arm to lightly press his lips to Lance.

Pina colada flavored lipbalm. Of course.

Lance laughs and hiccups at the same time, resulting in an adorable “meep” sound. With one hand, he covers Shiro’s hand on his cheek while the other reaches for Keith’s waist.

“What do you say?” Shiro asks, voice barely above a murmur as he runs his nose along Lance’s temple before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I--I say,” Lance starts before pausing, eyes fluttering shut as Shiro continues on kissing odwn his cheek and jaw, “I say that I’m all in, baby!”

Both Shiro and Keith lean in to kiss Lance, which results in quite a messy situation where noses are bumped and lips don’t necessarily meet the previously aimed for location, but neither of them would have it any other way.

“Hey!” Lance exclaims, pushing both men away. “Does that mean you want to shut me up? I resent tha--mph!”

As a matter of fact, it turns out that Shiro was right.

Kissing the living Hell out of Lance is a perfectly efficient technique to shut him up.

The End.

#lemonjuiceday #sometimes i write #voltron au #vld #shklance #because i wanted to #food porn #you have been warned

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ganymedesclock · 6 years

Note

Given your talks about Zarkon and Shiro's views on leadership, what do you think Lotor views as proper conduct from a leader?

An interesting question!

I think that one of the emerging patterns in a lot of Lotor’s speeches- I’m thinking of s3e1, and s3e2- as well as his other behavior is... Lotor enjoys the idea of taking care of others. He wants power, but mostly to guarantee his own safety.

It’s worth noting that Lotor respects the paladins more than the empire- he’ll manipulate both, but in Throk’s case he specifically set up to humiliate Throk and used incredibly condemning language. “Your tactics are stale, and in the end, your own aggression is your undoing.”

Lotor’s whole party during s3e1 is using Throk as a strawman to symbolically attack the empire- its entire means of operation. S3e1 as an introduction to Lotor, the primary things it tells us about him are that he’s clever, a strategist and an innovator in a way that we haven’t seen so far, quite dangerous to be on the wrong side of, and that, on an ideological level, he hates the empire. He hates everything they’re doing and how they’re doing it. And while to the empire, he acts encouraging, and like he’s equally conquest minded- talking about how it’s only practical to let non-galra serve, and that this will better further the empire...

“The masses are easily manipulated” and his mention of the New Empire in s3e2 tells us that he’s actually much more interested in burning the empire to the ground.

So I think it’s fair to say Lotor has a fundamental ideological difference with Zarkon. It’s not just that he wants to do what Zarkon’s doing but with him in charge, he’s got a lot more problems with the empire besides that they’ve left him out in the cold.

Now I’ve made a claim here that Lotor respects the paladins more, even though he also manipulates them, and I think what’s worth noting here is... Like Sendak, Lotor twice counts on the paladins to leap to the defense of their allies- behavior embodied not only by their legend, but by Shiro’s leadership style and sense of noblesse oblige.

Unlike Sendak, it’s very clear Lotor does not view this as a weakness. On Puig, we hear Lotor criticize the paladins for actually not being there fast enough.

Lotor also acts to protect the Puigians in Voltron’s absence. His generals go in specifically taking hostages but not harming them, and Lotor never once threatens those captives. He also releases all of them upon leaving the planet. This is the main point where I think Lotor respects Voltron in a way that he doesn’t Throk- everything else the same, Lotor chooses to spite Throk when it doesn’t serve him (don’t merely exile him from the fleet, separating him from his allies, but put him in the worst possible post you can think of after publicly embarrassing him)

...while he lets the paladins make relatively comfortable exits. He could have done all sorts of nasty things to Puig, he could have attacked multiple coalition planets, but once Voltron’s taken the bait, he lets them have the planet and its people, unharmed, no strings attached. He even makes a point of engaging them well beyond Puig’s atmosphere so civilians won’t even be endangered in the crossfire.

Lotor views it as important to protect people. And this is an attitude expressed strongly with Team Sincline- you have your group, and you take care of the group.

The biggest trend to how Lotor treats the rest of his team is that unlike Zarkon, who takes questioning as an insult, Lotor seems to overwhelmingly encourage questioning and for the generals to seek information.

So roughly, to Lotor, a leader should be, before all else, transparent to his allies. Deceit, misdirection, and cruelty are useful assets but they’re not things you use on your friends. There’s a difference between friend and foe, that boundary is rigid, and your friends should know what you’re up to.

Lotor, as a liar and a tricky fellow, ironically values honesty very highly- as honesty and sincerity is the currency by which he indicates people are important to him. When his trust in the generals is shaken, the first obvious sign of it is that Lotor closes off to them. That’s when he starts into “just, do what I say,” and even then he means it as “I’ll explain once we get there”- Lotor not being straightforwards to his team is a very worrying thing for him.

The other thing the rift gate exhibits at Lotor is that, similarly to Keith and Shiro, Lotor tends to internalize perceived failings.

We saw this scene between Lotor and Zarkon, a ruse in which Lotor basically begged Zarkon to care for him. “Please don’t leave me again, I’ll change! I’ll be better! I’ll be a good son, like you wanted!”

And while it’s a lie, we also see behavior with some very similar undercurrents come out of him genuinely.

“Okay, guys, we had a rough time, we lost Narti, you’re probably not trusting me, but- look at the rift gate! I made this, and we’re going to use it, and it’ll be great, and we’ll have all these resources and make a complete recovery, and you won’t have to leave me because I’ll be a good leader, like you wanted. ....Guys?”

Lotor’s response when one of the generals appears to betray them is to pull out assets to try and encourage the others to stay with him. He not only isn’t plotting against them the way that Ezor and Zethrid suspect, he’s actually completely unprepared for a second betrayal.

What this suggests of Lotor’s thought process is that losing Narti went something like this:

“Narti betrayed me. I must have failed her somehow by being the wrong kind of leader. That means the rest of the team is probably doubting me, too. This is my fault, it has to be something I did, I need to make it up to them. I need to show them the most impressive thing I have, and give them immediate results, to prove I’m Worth Following.”

This suggests Lotor’s mindset is set up similarly to Shiro’s- he views his role as leader to be something he has to earn and pay for, rather than something others must pay him for. And just like Shiro, Lotor hates Zarkon and hates the empire, which is rooted in a fundamentally selfish mindset.

Uniquely, however, Lotor appears to focus mostly on providing. While Shiro focuses on safety and emotional wellbeing, a desire to take care of others, Lotor seems to view his duty as a leader as that it’s his job to give power to the generals.

While the others are doubting Lotor, Acxa says “Lotor will protect us,” and that, again, would suggest another way Lotor and Shiro are alike. But in Lotor’s case, his perspective is much more modified by his sense of powerlessness.

Lotor doesn’t feel like he lives in a good universe. That he is most prepared for, and thrives in, inhospitable settings and cruel company, tells us that this is how Lotor views the world. People will hate him unless he gives them a reason not to. The universe will hurt him if he shows it his soft side.

So the kindest thing Lotor can think of doing for someone? Is to arm them. Because they all live in an inhospitable hellscape and being safe is something you earn by being able to beat up the first thing that comes along to collect your organs.

There’s a lot of insight here we don’t really have, and, I think I’ll be very interested to hear what the “virtues” of Lotor’s section of Sincline are- or see if he has positive interactions with any of the Voltron Lions. But definitely, Lotor’s perspective seems to align much more with Shiro’s- which is probably why he has a lot more sympathy for the paladins than his father’s empire.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #Lotor #readmore #Anonymous

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a-wanderin-whirlybird · 6 years

Text

Survivor

Hey, So I decided to try my hand at some Voltron Angst, specifically Langst as inspired by @blueplanettrash and @langsty-mc-langstface. Love the stuff they write. I may continue this as a series later, but I don’t know. First time doing Voltron angst and I specifically played up the harshness and cruelity in Allura, Shiro, Keith and Pidge. I love them, but they are so easy to write angry! any ways here you go!

The last thing anyone remembered was the wormhole. In their panic to escape the Galra no one noticed the Wormhole’s odd behavior until it was too late. No one had the time to voice their concern before the Paladins, and Coran had been forced out of the castle and landed roughly on the dusty ground.

“Is everyone alright?” Allura called.

“I’m fine!” Pidge called from a few feet away. “Shiro, Keith you guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Keith called. “Where are Coran and Hunk?”

“Over here!” Hunk called from a few yards off as he rolled off of Coran. “Has anyone seen Lance?”

“He was in the healing pods again.” Pidge said, rolling her eyes in frustration. “He’s always in there, it’s like he gets hurt for the attention.”

“Whether or not Lance is attention seeking again means nothing since we are obviously not on the ship anymore.” Allura said. “It is Possible that he is still on the ship and in danger!”

“That is true, first we need to find a means of contacting the castle’s systems, which means we need to find civilization.” Coran stated to the now gathered group.

“Ok then, let’s split up, Allura you and Coran should head North. Hunk and Pidge you should-“ Shiro wasn’t able to finish giving out orders before a squeaky gasp interrupted him. All eyes turned to the sound, a young Arusian peeking out from behind a bush.

“Hello little one, could you please tell us where we are?” Hunk asked, his voice soft and quiet as he crouched down to the child.

“You’re on Erus! Mama told me about the Lion King’s helper’s but she said I’d never meet them, but now I am! Are you the Lion King’s helpers?” The little girl asked her voice racing in excitement.

The Paladins and Coran all shared a look.

“I’m sorry but we don’t quite understand, we are the paladin’s of Voltron-“

“I knew it!” The little girl screeched in joy, interrupting Allura. “You have to come with me so I can show Mama! He’s gonna be so happy!”

The little girl grabbed Allura and Hunk’s hands in her own and tried to drag them off. Shrugging Allura and Hunk let the girl lead them away with the others following close behind.

It didn’t take long for the group to reach a familiar sight, the Arusian village that started the Voltron Coalition. It was much larger, with more technology running through it like streams. Bright electric lights, solar panels disguised as brilliant trees, terraced homes with dangling gardens lined the large streets as ArusianS and other aliens wandered around. The paladins watched in awe at the thriving city that not too long ago was not but a small village.

“This can’t be the same village.” Shiro whispered.

“Mama!” The little girl called down the street to an older Arusian woman down the street handling various fruits.

“Nymna! Where have you been? Your papa and I were worried sick!” The woman scolded heading towards the girl Nymna.

“But Mama look! I found the Lion King’s Helpers!” Nymna exclaimed shaking Hunk and Allura’s hands viciously. Nymna’s mother finally looked up and away from her daughter and gasped.

“Oh my! It truly is them. Forgive me! We never thought we would ever meet you again.”

“Again?” Keith hissed to Pidge with apprehension. Pidge shrugged.

“We did leave the planet in a rush, the Arusians likely thought we would not return.” Pidge explained, eyes turning to where Allura, Nymna and Nymna’s Mother were talking. “But something about this feels off. How did the Arusians progress their technology so fast?” We’ve only been gone a year or so.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. It’s like we are in another dimension again.” Hunk hissed.

Before the paladins could discuss the oddness of their situation further Allura, Nymna and Nymna’s mother Naraka were leading them to town hall. Naraka and Nymna spoke a million miles a minute explaining about different buildings and various different aliens they met. As they all walked through the city people would stop and whisper, pointing to the paladins. They never heard much but they always heard one thing, Lion King.

No one knew who this lion King might be, but whoever they were they were important.

“How long do we have to wait?” Keith growled, frustrated.

“I understand your impatience Keith but we must wait. I’m sure the chief will be here shortly.” Allura said before turning to Coran. “You’ve been very quiet Coran, is something bothering you?”

“Well Princess I’m just worried about Lance. He may still be on the ship, or he’s laying in a broken pod somewhere out there on Erus. And since we have been waiting for nearly an entire day I fear something terrible may have happened to him.”

“It’s not our fault he had to go get himself shot for like, the fourth time this week.” Pidge spat. “I mean how hard is it to stay in cover? He’s supposed to be a sharpshooter but he’s more like a walking target.”

“Pidge that’s cruel.” Hunk whispered almost scared. “Lance takes the risks any soldier does, myself included, but he has to be able to move faster than me so he has less armor.”

“Then why doesn’t he stay in a sniper’s nest?” Keith hissed. This was an old topic. No matter what Hunk tried the others would shit on lance for doing his job. He was supposed to move from a hidden stationary position to a more mobile front liner, and that meant he got hit a lot. But Pidge, Keith and Hunk suspected even Shiro were just trying to find a reason to rat on Lance because the boy was loud and peppy.

“That’s-“

“And cracking jokes doesn’t help on the battle field, or off it. We are at war we need to stay focused.” Shiro said, his voice firm and sharp. Hunk deflated.

“Then you will be glad to know that there is no war left to fight.” Everyone perked up at the familiar voice, a smile spread across Pidge and Shiro’s faces.

“Dad!” Pidge yelled running up and hugging the man.

“Not quite. I’m surprised to see you so young, I thought for sure you’d be older by now sis.” Pidge froze and looked up, really looking into the face of…

“Matt?” Sure enough there stood Matt Holt looking almost identical to his father, much older and fit as a fiddle.

“That’s right! Man I haven’t seen you all in so long!”

“How long exactly?” Keith asked uneasily. Matt shrugged.

“About 15 years give or take.”

“I’m afraid General Holt is incorrect, it has been 20 years since you all vanished, but 15 since the war against the Galra ended.” Kolivan joined the group, he bore more scars and a tattoo of what appeared to be a wave peeking out from under his collar.

“20 years? It was only a few seconds for us!” Hunk exclaimed. “Wait! What about lance?”

“Hunk come on, He’s fine, and when we find his pod he’ll be complaining that we messed up his beauty rest.” Keith hissed. Hunk sighed, but noticed both Kolivan and Matt glaring at Keith.

“Lance did not come with you. He had remained on the ship, the healing pod saved him from a catastrophic malfunction in the wormhole. For the longest time we thought you were all dead.” Kolivan explained a hint of ice creeping into his voice.

“What? Then, what about Voltron?” Allura asked. “How did you defeat Zarkon and Prince Lotor?”

“Well as it turns out, Lance was an amazing diplomat under pressure. He saw an in with Lotor and brought him over to our side. Lotor now leads the Galra in fixing the mistakes of his Mother and Father. As for Voltron, we found a way. I’m sure you’ll want to see lance first before we explain further.” Matt said gesturing for the paladins and advisor to follow him. “We can take you to him, myself, Kolivan and a few others were heading over to see him for his birthday anyways.”

“And what about the other Paladins? The ones that fought when we vanished?” Allura asked. No one answered her, but rather silently led the group to a docked ship and loaded them on board. There in the ship Hunk recognized a mermaid in the group. They smiled kindly to him and extended their tail to him which he shook gently.

“I am glad to see that you have not forgotten our customs Yellow one.” The mermaid said, their voice a soothing tone that rumbled a bit as they spoke.

“It’s good to see that you and your people are free ah…”

“Please, my name is Illimor, I served under General Holt during the Siege of the Rift in the final days of the war. It was my job to ensure Voltron made it to their destination unharmed. You will be pleased to hear that Lance was a fine leader in those final hours. He kept us all quite optimistic.”

“How? By flirting with the enemy, or getting shot and cracking a joke?” Pidge snarked. Illimor ignored her and continued talking to Hunk.

“He was a great paladin, I am sure he is quite enjoying himself now after so many years. In truth I haven’t seen him since the Grand Celebration when Lotor took the throne and declared the empire dissolved.”

“Well knowing that he’s happy puts me more at ease.” Hunk said smiling as he felt anxiety well up in his throat. Something was missing in this picture and he wasn’t sure what.

“Gotta say it was pre-e-etty smart how he managed to get the castle of lions flying again, who knew that Altean Mice could override Quintessence specific controls. He even managed to pilot the damned thing for nearly 4 years all by himself!” Another alien said, his voice was a hearty drawl and he was covered in what appeared to be a cloak made of ash and soot. Beneath it glowing amber veins pulsed and several arms moved like fluid. “Oh fergot to give my name, its Delliq. Ole Ocean boy Lance found me and a bunch of other escaped prisoners and offered to get us to safety. He had just figured out the castle controls by then and could barely fly the thing but he did everything to make us safe. So o’course m and some others decided to join up with him.”

“Wait slow down! What do you mean he piloted the castle? Only an Altean can do that!” Allura shouted, furry rising in her voice. “Of all the dishonorable and destructive things he has done Lance had to defile my home?”

“What’s that earth phrase again?” Delliq asked the open air, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Oh yeah. Cool your tits woman. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a war going on, you want him to die because he couldn’t get away from the enemy?”

“He could have taken an escape pod.” Shiro added, venom surging through his voice.

“Oh and leave Voltron behind so the enemy could take it?” A new alien said. This one’s voice was breathy, and had multiple mouths stacked one on top of the other, no arms to speak of but massive fleshy wings.

“He could have taken a lion away instead of destroying a piece of history! Every time Lance does something he messed it up! I’m more inclined to believe you’re all making up stories just to get at us.” Keith yelled.

“Let’s ask Lance.” Hunk said, firm and yet shaking. He watched everyone around him and swallowed as Delliq, Illimor and even Kolivan avoided his gaze.

“Very well. We will be arriving at Earth soon.” Kolivan said, Hunk caught Keith whispering about how of course Lance went home. The war was probably still continuing and of course Lance would hide his head in the sand. Hunk just tried to steel himself for what he was going to see.

They arrived at a small airport/space port in what Hunk guessed was Cuba. There was hundreds of space shuttles docked in the space, some that Hunk didn’t even recognize. Dignitaries and possible royalty shuffled through a crowd of humans all chatting quietly with each other. They all cast glances at the party as they moved out into the Landing Strip. Some glared at the Paladins and Alteans. Others gave silent prayers and sad looks. Hunk decided that he was the only one who noticed as Keith, Pidge, Shiro and Allura walked briskly and with too much pomp through the crowd. Coran was the only one who hung back with Hunk, Illimor stayed with them.

“I wish perhaps that I can prevent you from going forward if only for a few moments.”

“Sure Illimor, moving on land must be hard.” Hunk said but Illimor smiled sadly and shook their head.

“That is not the problem. I must tell you both something very important. Unlike the others, I believe you both should hear the truth before it is discovered.”

“No.” Hunk whispered. He could feel bile rising in his throat as flashes of memories passed through his vision. Meeting Lance in middle school, sneaking out of the garrison to make snacks, exploring empty worlds for the hell of it. All fun times rolled by as Illimor spoke on. He could hear what they were saying, but could not for the life of him comprehend it.

Hunk fell to his knees and screamed.

Keith raced down a recently paved road in the middle of nowhere Cuba spitting curses to the wind. When he found lance he’d shake him within an inch of his life for this bullshit. Then maybe they’d kick him from paladinhood and force him to fix the castle, wherever it was. It would work, that idiot would fix his own damned mess…

“You’re going the wrong way.” Kolivan’s cool voice interrupted Keith’s thoughts. Keith turned around to find Kolivan standing in front of a church gate with Delliq and the winged alien, whose name was apparently incomprehensible unless you understood dog whistles, so he went by Whistle. Matt was nowhere in sight.

“Why here? Lance isn’t religious.” Shiro said. Delliq spat out a laugh.

“Shows what you know. But in the end religion doesn’t matter.”

“Where’s my castle?” Allura demanded, glaring the other’s down. “He tore it apart I want the only home I have left back!”

“Hah! I’m surprised you didn’t notice it before.” Whistle laughed bitterly pointing a wing to the church itself. Finally the party took it in fully through the morning mist.

The church itself was the Castle of Lions. Beautiful trees from other worlds grew in a magnificent garden around it. Leaves of bright pink silk, bark of glistening silver, and plants that they could barely comprehend expanded out towards the castle in a great forest. Pidge gasped.

“Green!” Pidge took off running to a hill that upon further inspection was in fact the Green Lion sitting in the forest. “Hey girl it’s me Pidge! I’m sorry I left you, I won’t leave again!”

“Stay or come with us, we do not care.” Whistle stated as they approached Pidge. “We are heading to visit our friend.”

“Pidge we’re going to see Lance stay safe ok?” Shiro called.

“Yeah yeah! Come on Green speak to me!”

Shiro followed Whistle, Delliq and Kolivan towards the castle once they reached it the trip turned a sharp left towards an open path that led to a beach.

“Where are you going?” Shiro asked.

“To see Lance.” Kolivan stated plainly walking down to the water front. Curious Shiro, Keith and Allura followed. Then the group stopped at the water’s edge and an elderly woman joined them with Matt steadying her walk.

“Mrs. McClain, it’s good to see you in such fine health.” Delliq said bowing to the elderly woman and taking her hand beneath his cloak. There was a fizzing sound as her hand reappeared and Mrs. McClain laughed sadly.

“Still a charming dear, as usual. My children and grandchildren have prepared for the party, but really it’s not like you all to arrive so early.” Mrs. McClain said.

“My apologies Mrs. McClain the former Paladins of Voltron were found and we thought, that perhaps they should see where their late friend was.” Kolivan stated and Mrs. McClain sighed.

“Then they are them?” She asked pointing to Shiro, Allura, and Keith.

“Yes, they-“

“Guys! Green won’t respond!” Pidge shrieked running up to the group. “I tried to climb into my seat and she spat me back out! I can’t even hear her anymore!”

“What?” Allura breathed.

“That’s taking things too far.” Shiro said as Keith fumed. “Where’s Lance he needs to answer for not only destroying Allura’s home but messing with our Lions.”

“How dare you!” Mrs. McClain shrieked. “You dare to insult my boy, my little sun after everything he gave to keep you and this entire world free? You dare insult him with such insolence?”

“He messed with our lions we need them to fight Zarkon!” Keith yelled.

“There is no Zarkon! Lance and Lotor killed him and Haggar 15 years ago only for Lance to…” Kolivan stopped he did not continue on, rather he turned back to the sea. “I’m sorry. I know not to bring anger here. I apologize Lion King.”

“What are you going on about? Speak plainly for once!” Allura shouted as she advanced on Kolivan a walking stick smacked her in the head.

“Leave this sacred place! Leave my boy to his peace and you leave these men who fought so hard with him to their long fought peace! Leave now!” Mrs. McClain screamed waving her walking stick in their faces tears streaming down her clouded eyes. Before anyone could retort Matt had grabbed Pidge and Shiro’s arms and began to drag them away, Keith and Allura followed unsure what was happening.

Silence followed only broken as they left the church grounds and they ran into Hunk, Coran and Illimor. Matt stood behind Pidge and Keith just inside the Gate, as if waiting for someone to try something.

“Coran you will not believe this madness, it’s like everyone has lost their minds!” Allura whined, only to stop when she truly looked at Coran’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Coran silently turned to Hunk and lightly pushed the boy forward into the gates. Hunk stumped forward as if in a dream, his eyes bloodshot and lost. Once Hunk was gone Coran turned back to Allura.

“Allura, Lance is dead.”

“What? That can’t be, he needs to fix the lions and the castle! He can’t-“ Allura hissed only for Coran to interrupt her.

“Lance changed the Castle’s systems so he could pilot it away from the enemy. He woke up alone in the castle, with all of us gone. He spent an entire year waiting and searching for us. When we did not appear Lance returned to fighting Zarkon. By then he had made it so that he could fly the Castle by tricking it’s systems into thinking he was Altean. A risky move that shaved years off his life. Then he returned to Piloting the red lion, hoping to give the coalition some advantage in the war. As he fought more and more, the other lions slowly began to bond with him allowing him to pilot all the lions at once and to form Voltron. But that came with a price. So long as he was fighting Zarkon he lived, he was perfectly healthy. But once the war was over the Lions no longer spent energy to keep him safe from the drain that comes with piloting Voltron solo. Lance died before they were able to return him home.”

“Then why won’t Green respond to me now?” Pidge asked, the news not truly settling in her brain right. “In order for Green to reject me another bond would have to be present right?”

“No.” Illimor stated plainly. “In fact no one has been able to get the Lion’s to respond to any stimuli. We believe that the Lions at this point, would only respond to Lance or one of his Kin, which is why the new Galactic coalition decided they should remain here with his family. We also ensure that his siblings and other family members need for nothing.”

“Then what’s with calling Lance of all people the Lion King?” Keith asked, fury turning into shock.

“He called himself that many times. It never failed to cheer up General Holt and those who knew of Earth media. It kept morale high.”

By now Coran had left retreating into the forest, Allura turned back to the gates and began to stride with purpose towards the Castle.

“What are you doing?” Illimor asked.

“I’m going to access the Castle’s security footage, I am going to confirm this story. Then I’m taking my Castle and my lions and leaving.” Allura said with a growl.

“Are you insane?”

“No, but you all seem to be! There is no way Lance defeated Zarkon by Piloting Voltron on his own! He has neither the skills needed nor the mental fortitude for it!” Illimor sucked in a breath.

“Stop insulting him! Do not speak another word.”

“I will, he stole all that I have left of my home, Lance will face me for his stupidity!” Suddenly Allura found herself on the ground a slippery fish tail wrapped around her chest pinning her arms to her sides.

“Stop insulting my husband! I will not have you try to sully all that he worked for!” Shiro and Keith stood in shock as Illimor continued to squeeze on Allura.

Suddenly Illimor spat and released Allura before crawling into the forest.

“Leave now, before the Lion’s decide to remove you themselves.”

#voltron #Lance McClain #Langst #fanfiction #look #I tried and I think it went well!#I gave Lance a Nonbinary spouse #I mean five year out in space #the dude was 18 at the start I'm picturing turning 20 by the time the wormhole happens #I headcannon he marries early #MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

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thelandscapingemployeetrap · 4 years

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How to Market Your Business & Get Free TRAFFIC to Your Funnel With YouTube

Hey, my friend, I would like to share my experience at the Contractor Sales Academy event in Greenwood, Colorado. I was invited as one of the speakers for the event; of course, I would like you to learn what I had shared, and from this, you could benefit as well how to market your business and get traffic through your funnel with YouTube! Being on this game is a win-win situation for you and your business. Want to know why and how? Let's dive in...

"Three and a half years ago, I wanted to start a YouTube channel. So I could film my business for specific reasons. One was to help guys get out of dead-end jobs and start their own landscaping business because that's what I do. And the journey for me was a living hell. So I started documenting it. And then number two, the second reason was that I wanted to find a way that I could sell to my customers because I was learning that I was getting very frustrated when I had to keep repeating the same thing to a customer over and over again" - Keith Kalfas

Topics Covered:

1:35 - Setting up a YouTube channel is not only a benefit that you could get for yourself. This could also help you reach out to your customers and potential clients. By creating a video and uploading it on YouTube, you get to market your business for free! And this will also save you time explaining to your customers and potential clients what type of business you run or how the job is done.

3:29 - Some tips on how you could be influential in a video. How your viewers will feel like you are directly talking to them, and how your viewers will feel an interaction between you and them.

6:48 - Just creating a video and uploading is not be enough to be successful if you want to market your business online. You will need to study and learn how experts do it. I gave some resources to help; it is better if you will take note of these resources that I use and still using on how to improve my channel. You could write this down or download this episode to listen to it again if you missed something.

9:14 - There are Millions of videos that are uploaded on YouTube; the next thing you need to learn is how you set your episodes not only to be searchable but by strategically optimize your local target demographic.

10:27 - Another way to help is through Facebook Ads, a great way to reach out to your customers and potential ones.

12:23 - Getting a well positive review will also help you boost your channel and your website's traffic.

14:08 - Just be cautious, though; not everything could be published online. There are still rules that apply mainly if it involves your customer. Remember, not all customers will agree to take part in your video or participate in this. You could add a disclaimer release into your contract that your customers have to sign that permits you to record in their property.

16:52 - Do you know what the customer avatar is? Listen to this; this will significantly help you.

19:12 - How psychology will help mostly in the communication between you and your viewers? Learn the law of reciprocity.

Key Takeaways:

"So this is not theory; I've not done it. I have sold through video, and I've closed jobs and educated my customers. But I'll be implementing a sequential beta test that actually sends out an autoresponder to my customers that says hello and introduces us to our services to them. Then, when we leave the property, it sends out an automatic response email with an embedded video that they can click on. And then it says thank you very much for your services; we appreciate you, we're your local service provider. Our business survives and thrives off positive reviews on Yelp, Google, or Facebook; please click the link in the description below to leave us a positive review. We'd greatly appreciate it. So that's another way to get positive reviews on Google is every single customer in my business. ."

"We figure out what better and better ways to do this and into our businesses and put it into our CRM, like Infusionsoft, our customer relationship management software programs, if we could find a way to put a video in there to sell better and more clearly communicate, then we just freed ourself up from a whole bunch of time, I've developed the whole internet business where now I'm making thousands of dollars a month on autopilot, this just keeps popping into my phone, because I have hundreds of videos that are selling for me. And now I'm putting together video courses on how to do all this stuff.

"And if you do and you commit to it, and you make at least one video a week and just keep uploading that thing and doing what I'm saying you will see just like Stan has seen that people are calling, like my whole video, my youtube channel with all the quotes. There are literally people that call me and say, Hey, I was watching your video when you were quoting. And you seem like you know what you're talking about. I'm looking for an estimate. I'm like, well, that's cool."

Connect with Keith

Facebook

Instagram

YouTube

Website

Other Helpful links!

Here's the KAJABI software I run my internet business on https://app.kajabi.com/r/VVg5DJ6f/t/k...

Get my new landscaping book here http://www.keithkalfas.com/book

If you liked the show please leave us a well-written positive 5-star review. You may click here

Check out this episode!

#Landscaping #windowcleaning

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years

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VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Covid-19 has presented real challenges for all segments of the alcohol industry, but perhaps the area most dramatically affected has been craft beer. Breweries that largely sold their beer through their own taprooms and other on-premise locations have had to pivot quickly — bottling and canning their beers and attempting to find space on crowded store shelves — while certain styles of beer that rely on extreme freshness have required a bit of rethinking.

That’s the topic for this week’s VinePair Podcast, as Adam Teeter, Erica Duecy, and Zach Geballe take a look at the state of the craft beer industry, discussing how breweries can continue to create communities even with limitations on in-person consumption, as well as other strategies for long-term survival.

Listen online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or check out our conversation here

Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

A: No, because that would also be Keith’s apartment, and Josh’s, and Danielle’s, and Erica’s. It would be everybody’s, it’s crazy. There’s one room I’m sitting in in my house that really does feel like it just has been taken over by VinePair, and I think Naomi’s getting really sick of that. I’m really excited about today’s topic but first, as always, we have to shout out to the sponsors. This week’s podcast is brought to you by Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York. Have to love that legal language at the end. I think Wild Turkey is a pretty delicious bourbon.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

Z: Yeah. We’ve been running some cool “top lists” of whiskeys and Wild Turkey’s one of those, it’s not that expensive, it makes a great cocktail. It’s not, maybe, the thing that I would turn to absolutely first to just sip on its own, but in a cocktail and Old Fashioned — definitely delicious.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Tied into today’s theme, to some extent, I’ve been drinking a lot of craft beer, but a specific brewery because it fits my inactive lifestyle very well. I interviewed Bill Shufelt, who’s the founder of Athletic Brewing, which has focused on non-alcoholic beers and I’ve been drinking a lot of Free Wave, it’s a double hop IPA. I have tried a lot of non-alc beers running beverage programs, you end up buying and tasting them because at least I took that part of my job seriously, but it’s actually pretty convincingly beer. I find their hoppier styles are more beer, I guess it’s just that delivery of bitterness and aromatics that I appreciate. I’ve been drinking that, it fits that “I need something that’s more interesting to drink than water at 3:30, but I still have to deal with my son when he wakes up from his nap” part of my life.

A: I’m so interested. I have to say you’re now the second person who told me you actually think it’s good. Athletic Brewing, if you’re listening, you can send it to myself and Erica, because I’m super suspect. I’ve listened to their ads on tons of other podcasts, I think, and what I’ve always thought was really interesting is they’ve never really advertised alcohol. I hear them a lot on tech podcasts, “Do you want to get up in the morning and be able to do your presentation? If so, drink Athletic.” And I’ve always wondered if it’s any good. Cat also says it’s very good. I actually feel I need to try it now because you are now the second person who said, “Yeah, it’s not beer, but for a beer replacement it’s very good.”

Z: I would say it’s beer. What’s interesting, I think to me, is where I noticed that it doesn’t have the alcohol is halfway through the beer when I don’t feel any of the buzz. If I’m drinking a double IPA normally, it’s seven, eight, nine-percent alcohol, a lot of times. And by the time I’m halfway through a can or something, I can kind of feel it. It’s sort of weird, I don’t necessarily mind, it’s kind of nice too, to have the beer and not have the effect. But it is true that, as we talk about on this podcast, we do drink alcohol for the effect. And so I’m not saying I’ve given up alcohol, but it is nice. It gives me something more interesting to drink than water or something along those lines, if I’m not ready for it yet, more coffee. It’s a nice kind of alternative in the afternoon. I don’t drink it all day, every day but it’s a nice alternative.

E: Nice. I was really excited yesterday to be on the phone with Heather Green, who is the CEO and master blender of Milam & Greene Whiskey. She is based out of Texas, but they are now working, with a master distiller on their team at Marlene Holmes, who was at Jim Beam for her entire career. Man this whiskey, they just nationally released last night, it’s the Milam & Greene Triple Cask Strength bourbon whiskey, it’s fantastic. I was totally blown away and it’s so cool to see a woman owned and led whiskey company doing such great work. They’re a young company, so they are sourcing some of their juice but they’re also distilling in Texas and Kentucky, as well as finishing other whiskeys. I tried this, it was so smooth and a 94 proof spirit, it had such a kind of presence and depth to the character. I was totally floored.

A: There’s nothing specific that I’m super excited about this week like I was with the Negronis. I will say that over the past week, I’ve drunk a few things. One is, I did go back to Heaven Hill Bourbon, the Seven Year Old, which is a pretty delicious overproof. And I had that last night while watching the debate and cheering on the fly.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

A: No. I think this debate was basically what they’re supposed to be, which is normal. Except that, one of the candidates lied a lot and evaded questions, but besides that, it was a pretty standard debate. There wasn’t as much of a desire for me to feel I needed to just down an entire bottle of bourbon. Also, I think I would not feel great afterwards. And then last weekend — gosh, it’s so weird that with corona it all blends together — I will say I actually had a terrible bottle of wine. I’m not going to name the producer, but I want to talk about what happened. And I want to get your opinion. We were at one of my favorite restaurants. I don’t want to talk about them because I think the food is amazing, I think this was the server’s fault. But it was Naomi’s birthday, and we haven’t been going out, but it was her birthday. We’re going to go out for dinner. We had outdoor seats, all this stuff. And I knew that this restaurant had lost their wine person a long time ago, and that basically it’s a hodgepodge of people buying the wines: The chef, manager, et cetera. And I know because of where we are in Brooklyn, it’s been leaning very dirty, natural — not just natural, but dirty natural. And so there were two wines we were looking at and Naomi said she really wanted a red. Not a bigger red, but something that had some nice acidity that would go really well with all the food, and it was Mediterranean. There was this Pinot Noir from Baden. And so I asked them about that bottle and they were like, “Oh, it’s really funky, totally grungy dirt.” And we say no and ask about this Nero d’Avola and she was like, “Oh, this is perfect. It’s classic Nero d’Avola and is one of our bestselling bottles. It pairs perfectly with all the food.” And I’m like cool. So she basically described the wine as being classic. So the bottle comes out and she pours me a taste. And I literally looked at Naomi and, if I didn’t know that this was natural, I would say that there was something wrong with it. Because it, of course, was natural and it was the dirtiest, just riddled with faults, and it was totally unpleasant to drink. But at this point we were just like whatever, screw it, I don’t know what else to do. And so we drank it. And it was not fun. The faults were so clear, and it was so off-putting that it kind of ruined that part of the meal. There were other parts that were great, we had a really nice glass prior that was delicious, as a way to toast her birthday. But whose misunderstanding was it here? And I didn’t want to get into it with her and say, “Hey, basically you made this sound like this was a totally conventional bottle of wine, but this is actually very dirty and natty and not a good wine, because there are natural wines that I do like but this is definitely not one of them.” And so that’s why we just drank it, because we didn’t know how to handle this situation. And we were just going to take one for the team and drink the wine. And of course when we looked at the import on the back, it was some importer we’d never heard of before based in Bushwick.

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: Oh my God. This whole story made me almost break out in hives. I understand your general approach of “take one for the team,” but as a wine director, nothing can make me sadder than hearing customers talk that way. Especially when you’re out celebrating your wife’s birthday. Obviously these times, most people are not going out all the time. I would have loved for you to have said, “This is not what we’re looking for,” and again, restaurants are different and there are different approaches to this. From a restaurant side, I would just, graciously as I could, take that bottle back and say, “Hey, we get it. We’re saying sorry. Let’s try and find you something else. ”It’s hard for me, because I never ran a program where a lot of the wines we were selling were faulted. So I’m not really familiar with how you convince someone that a wine that’s flawed is good. I just tried to sell good wine. And that’s still a subjective thing, and different people have different tastes, but if a wine had an obvious fault and we opened it, it was of course going back. I was sending it back to the distributor and trying to walk a line there. What I would say is that, yeah maybe the server’s not super knowledgeable, but in the end, if they’re recommending food to you and it sucks — “Oh, we don’t have anything spicy,” and they bring out something that’s loaded with spice — that’s not your fault, you don’t take that one for the team. You don’t have an incrementally unpleasant dining experience because they did a s***** job. No, you tell them, “Look, this is super spicy. We don’t want it. We want something mild.” If you want something super spicy and they bring out something bland as hell that’s not your fault, that’s the server’s fault and the restaurant’s fault. They should be able to communicate to you the basics about the wine program. And if you say, “Hey, we don’t want funky, dirty wine,” either they can say, “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have anything that meets your needs.” You can decide what you want to do then. Or they can bring you a wine that isn’t funky and dirty. I would just say they failed. And I totally understand not wanting to be the person who says “excuse me,” but, all of you listening out there, be the person who says “excuse me.” Restaurants want you to leave happy, not to go on your podcast the next week.

A: True. I mean, there was so much there. We’ve talked about this before, about us realizing what a privilege it is to be dining out, and I was also thinking about the server and how she may not want to be there, but she is. And I’m not going to be the person that does this right now, but it sucked. I get that there is that movement. And now there also is this weird thing where it’s “what can you trust?” Because if it says Nero d’Avola, and it’s from the area where I know it’s going to usually be very good in Sicily, I was going to assume it was what I thought we would want. And when she said it was typical. Do you know what typical narrow Nero d’Avola tastes like? Or have you only tasted very natty ones at this restaurant? Which also then becomes hard, because then you have the issue of what is the word typical? I would say the word typical is what the majority of people would agree is what the grape tastes like. Not what a few people at some super hipster places think the grape tastes like. It was a bummer because even Naomi — she’s the one in the relationship that loves the natural wines more than I do — even she tasted something bad.

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: Let’s talk about the state of craft beer, because it’s craft beer month at VinePair and we’ve devoted a large amount of our content for the month of October to the world of American craft beer — which has been a very exciting world of beverage for quite a long time. Within the last decade, prior to 2020, it was really a massive boom time. Every year, hundreds if not thousands of new craft breweries were opening across the country. But now, it seems that of all three of the areas of alcohol, the one that’s being the most impacted by Covid is craft beer. It also seems, all of a sudden, maybe there’s a little bit less interest in craft beer than they’re used to. So we thought it’d be fun if we chatted about this area, and what we think is really happening in craft beer right now. What’s exciting, and what needs a little bit of a jolt to become more exciting.

E: From my perspective, I will be the first to say that craft beer, or any beer, is not my area of expertise, so where I can help is providing some statistics. According to the IWS, craft beer is down 12 to 15 percent overall for the first half of this year. That is largely because of the many on-premise closures and capacity restrictions. When you think about the different categories, craft beer, especially, is focused on-premise. Bart Watson, the chief economist for the Brewers Association, says on-premise sales account for about 45 percent of craft beer volume before Covid-19, about half. Without that channel, we are seeing the off-premise sales up between 11 and 16 percent, according to Nielsen data, during the Covid affected period. But that doesn’t cancel out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants. That’s kind of the bigger picture that we’re looking at here.And there’s been a lot of challenges for craft brewers who are looking to pivot into canning from what they’ve previously been doing — kegs for example — which is tough, operationally. If you’re not set up for a high volume of canning, you may have to rely on mobile canning lines that may only be available in higher-density areas. Not as much in rural areas. There’s been this ongoing aluminum can shortage. And that existed before the pandemic. But Covid has exacerbated that because of the growing demand for aluminum cans, not just in beer, but also in wine cans, seltzer, et cetera. So those are some of the challenges that craft beer brewers are facing right now.

Z: I think the other thing that goes along with what you’re saying, Erica, is for a lot of craft breweries, especially ones on the very, very small nanoscale, all the way up to the medium-sized craft breweries, much of their profit — not necessarily gross revenue, but profit — comes from a taproom. And in most of the places in the country, the best you’re able to offer is limited capacity, or your taproom was closed for some amount of time, or it’s still closed. You can have some limited outdoor seating, but maybe not nearly as much as what you had before. And every brewer and brewery-owner that I’ve talked to in this period points to this very real fact that the smaller you are, the more dependent you are on that often one location where you’re generating a whole lot of your revenue. And if it’s closed or even limited (and again, maybe people have been okay through the warmer months and as most of the country heads into fall and winter and outdoor seating is a lot more complicated, if it’s even an option), a lot of them are looking at real challenges to the central piece of their model. Along with that, I think is this other real central conceit to craft brewing, which is that for so long, the selling point for craft beer, along with of course the quality of the product, was the convivial nature of beer. We think of beer as this hyper-social beverage, even maybe more so than wine or spirits. And whether it’s in a brewery, at a beer bar, at a tailgate, all these ways of getting together and enjoying beer are greatly curtailed for most of us, if not completely off-limits. And beer may just have a harder time fitting into the existing models for consumption that we have, especially if it’s smaller scale and not readily available at the grocery store or online. You guys can listen to some of the interviews we’ve had and have coming up on the Next Round part of this feed, but there’s lots of interesting things going on where brewers are experimenting with ways to continue to keep that connection with their customers alive. But it’s more challenging, I think, for beer than anyone else.

A: I think this is interesting. Some of the points you’re raising, Zach, reinforce this theory that I have that’s a hot take. I think the biggest trend in craft beer of the past four to five years is the reason craft beer is suffering now. And that trend is the hazy, because for those beers, which are so amazing, freshness is key and limited supply is key. And so when you build a brewery that initially is all built not on distribution to grocery stores — which is where all of us wound up in the pandemic — we reencountered Lagunitas, which some of us hadn’t drunk in decades. Or we reencountered bear Bear Republic, or some of these other OG craft breweries. And if you relied on line culture — people who would be willing on a Saturday or Sunday morning to come and line up at the brewery and wait for the beer and then have that community that we talked about, and you relied on really being very, very vigilant when it came to shelf control (and that’s why a lot of retailers never wanted to stock some of these beers, because a lot of the breweries were actually really hard on the distributor who was really hard on the retail) it means that when a pandemic happens, people aren’t willing to wait in line and you’re not set up to know how to do delivery, because you haven’t had to do that in the past. I think a lot of breweries fell behind because they became known for this style of beer that is absolutely delicious. Cat jokes and says that I’m a “haze bro.” I love hazy beers. I think they’re delicious. But they’re harder to find. At least in the first two to three months, the grocery store that I went to had none of them besides Threes, and Threes is one of the exceptions. Shout out to them, their infrastructure, and the way that they do their business in New York City. A lot of people could learn from them. I think the way that they handle getting the beer still into all the larger retailers is pretty unique. But I think, for the most part, all those other breweries had a very hard time, and now the opposite has happened. Now they all flooded retail. We talked about the beers that we’ve all enjoyed during the pandemic, and Josh was saying he’s gotten to drink beers that he never would have gotten to be able to just walk down to the corner bodega and buy, because he would have had to go to the brewery to get it. And now they’re so desperate to get it into retail, and a lot of them are also being a little bit less vigilant about those “buy on” dates. They’re not as worried anymore that the beer has to be consumed within a week of canning, which is what a lot of people used to think. That was the whole allure of the fresh, hazy IPA. If it wasn’t fresh, that haze diminished — it kind of fell out of the beer. It didn’t have the pillowy mouthfeel everyone was obsessed with. And the fruitiness. All that stuff that made that beer so mind-altering to so many people who had drunk crappier beer for so long. That’s my first hot take. My other hot take is: I think the other thing that happened at craft breweries is a lot of them got into seltzer, and White Claw and Truly kicked their a**. That, again, is a supply issue. And a lot of craft breweries started making seltzer when the breweries were packed to have something else on tap that they could serve to people who didn’t want a ton of these massively high-alcohol beers we talked about at the beginning. How many IPAs can you drink? But now that we’re in a pandemic, White Claw and Truly are everywhere. and this obscure hard seltzer that probably wasn’t that much of a focus for the brewery but helped pay the bills when they were open is not going to be the thing that people reach for. So I think that those things align with everything else you’re saying, it’s just harder for them than for almost anyone else. And no one has figured out how to create this beer that took the beer world by storm as a shelf-stable product yet. Hazy Little Thing really isn’t that. Sierra Nevada says it is, it’s not. The question is this new Dogfish beer that just got announced, which is going to have oat milk in it. It’s the oats that are actually going to make it hazy. Is that going to be it? Because that’s the only way you’re going to recreate these beers without relying on freshness. There’s going to have to be something else chemically that happens that makes them hazy and pillowy and what I refer to as what eggs look like when you add milk to them and you scramble them. I don’t know. It’s going to be interesting. I think it’s going to be tough because that style of beer is what made Other Half famous. It’s what made Grimm famous. I remember, Erica, when we had the staff picnic and I was talking to Jonno, your husband, and he mentioned one of the OGs of that movement, I can’t remember which one it was, but it was one of the beers everyone was excited about.

E: The thing I see more than anything is fruited sours and just fruit beer everywhere. I don’t know how fresh those have to be, though. I’m thinking of the Dogfish Head SeaQuench and all those sorts of beers that have really pronounced fruitiness to them. Do those beers have to be as fresh? What’s the situation there?

A: Not that I know of, but I’m curious what Zach thinks here. I think that sours are polarizing, and I think what was so interesting about the hazys was that they’re incredibly welcoming to almost anyone, it tastes like f***ing orange juice, and that’s why I’ve always been a big IPA fan. I used to think of Racer 5 as one of my top beers. I love that IPA. That beer is amazing. Also Bell’s Two Hearted is an amazing beer but that was a style of IPA that was for people who like bitterness. I could never get Naomi to drink IPAs, but she loves hazys. I think that sours are the same. Naomi loves sours. I’m going to give you guys a little TMI, but I have massive acid reflux. That’s also why I don’t like natural wine. I can’t do it. The Brett inside those beers, I can have one but I could never think that I’d go and invest in a six pack, but I don’t know exactly. What do you think?

Z: I think that it’s really interesting that we’re talking about the freshness of beers because I think, in general, that’s something that even outside of hazys and beers where, especially in the Pacific Northwest, we’re in the midst of fresh hop season and those beers are, again, another thing where you want that beer fresh from the tank, if possible. And if not that then in the can for as little time as possible. But all beer, with the exception of maybe some darker beers that are designed to age, almost all beer benefits from being consumed pretty fresh. One thing that we’re just seeing is that breweries of all scales, but especially on the craft side, are really trying to figure out how to get product in people’s hands. For the most part, you’re not going to go buy a 24 pack of your favorite craft beer. You probably don’t want to drink the same one of those every day or two of them a day for 12 days or whatever. But also the beer just isn’t as good, as enjoyable, at the end of that. One of the challenges that I think that craft brewing has had is the compulsion that people had, especially earlier in the pandemic, to get as much of everything as they can. “I got to pack my house, my apartment, whatever, with everything that I could possibly need.” And I think people have come out of that a little bit, but still there’s that challenge of — if you’re only going to the store once a week, or you’re going to go to a brewery to stock up but you’re not going to go every week, you’re going to go once a month or every two months — you kind of have to find this balance of what is going to be shelf-stable enough to last through that period. I also think with the sours, the other problem for beers is that we are seeing a shift (and again, this is where I come back to the closures or limitations on taprooms, where the current contexts for drinking these beverages is different)m and so one of the reasons why I think the hazy has become so popular. Not just because of what Adam said, or maybe in conjunction with what Adam said about how welcoming it is, it’s also a great beer to just drink by itself. That’s a complete thing unto itself. Whereas, to me, a sour, whether it’s fruited or otherwise, that’s a beer I need to eat something with. The same way that a high-acid wine — I don’t really want to drink those things. I don’t have the same issues with the reflux, but still I don’t want to drink a really high-acid anything without something to go along with it. And so those higher-acid beverages, I think, are more shelf-stable. I would bet just chemically that it has to be part of the problem for a hazy. You don’t have that acid balance to keep the thing fresh. Milk is going to go bad faster than lemonade, just the reality of it. But it’s something that people could revisit, if they haven’t done it in a while, because for those of us who are consuming at home, maybe thinking about having beer with food, that’s where those drinks shine. They’re their brightest in that context, where you can use a meal or snack or something to balance them out. Whereas, I think a hazy or something, you can just crush that, watch Netflix, it doesn’t need anything else to make it enjoyable. I don’t know that it’s something I would say that, necessarily, I’m going to go back to some of the beers that I used to drink as much. But that is where I think really bitter IPAs and sours, those more extreme ends could perhaps come back and do a little bit of prominence. Because I think they’re both more shelf-stable and they’re also more enjoyable in the setting that most of us are consuming things: At home, with a meal or snacks.

A: I think that there’s the same craft beers kind of really influx right now because I really feel even two or three years ago, maybe even a year ago, it was the area of alcohol that a lot people would have said was the most exciting. It was working on becoming more open — it still was predominantly beer bros, but it was working on becoming more open. There was an accessibility, at least when it came to people who were drinking, that it felt people would get into it more easily than other areas of the drinks world. The branding was always really interesting. A lot of people I’ve talked to think that now a lot of those natural wine labels were influenced by craft beer. And a lot of wine people want to have their cool craft beer area of the wine world. I think everything we’ve said here is true. The business model, that’s the gray, it’s just suffering more than any other area of alcohol I can’t think of. I love craft cocktail bars. But those aren’t, to me, a third space. I can’t sit at a craft cocktail bar and pay $15 a drink for very long. Whereas you can sit at a brewery all day and have $6 to $8 pints and have a great time. And usually there’s a food truck. And the same for wine bars. I know there’s a lot of them, but are they really a place that you’re going to just hang out with your buddies and catch up in the same way? Probably not. And wine, to me, has always been much more of a restaurant thing or an at-home thing, which is what I drink most often. I think that’s what it is. And it’s sad, because I think it’s going to take longer for it to come back than the others. It’s just not going to be as quick as everything else.

E: I agree. I’ll just put in one little fact here, which I found interesting, as of June 30th there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S. That was up 100 percent from a year ago. It takes a lot of time to open a brewery, several years, People are still opening. But what I found interesting was that between Q2 and Q3 of this year, there were still 219 new brewery permit applications. It’s the slowest amount of growth in 11 quarters, but it’s still growing. So I think people still see craft beer as a possible area where they can make money, or maybe it’s all the people in finance who’ve said, “Screw it, I’m done here and I’m just going to go open a brewery.”

Z: I will say my one bit of silver lining for this whole conversation is that statistics say that homebrewing has taken off again in a big way during the pandemic. I do think that one cool possibility coming out of this is that you will have had a lot of people who either had more time to do homebrewing or took it up for the first time. And I mean, again, homebrewing is where the craft beer movement was born. It’s still how it mostly gets its start. Many people who start breweries start out by brewing at home. It’s relatively easy to do that. Adam, you have personal experience, and I think in general it’s certainly possible that when we’re talking to brewers five or 10 years from now and how they got started, a lot of them probably will say, “During Covid, I decided to take the plunge: I’m going to try homebrewing. I’m going to give it a shot.” And from this opportunity, maybe some of the great breweries of the 2020s will be born.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: It’s a really wonderful column. If you haven’t checked it out it’s called BIY: Brew It Yourself, and Mandy Naglich, she is a pro home brewer. It’s a really highly read column so people seem to be engaged. It’s been growing during the pandemic. So I think there’s a lot of interest in people saying “I’ve graduated from sourdough. Let me try homebrewing.”

A: Yeah. And she even has a column where she writes about how to make a hazy, which I thought was really interesting because it’s actually going to teach you how to do that. I never, when I was brewing, thought I could have attempted that. But I think it shows people are willing to try these things. I think you’re very much going to be right there, Zach. I think we’re going to have a lot of breweries that open up, and when you ask why, they’re going to say, “We left whatever city we lived in, we moved to this place, we got more space, we started homebrewing, and we realized ‘Oh, this will be a nice life.’” And they opened. I can totally see that.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

A: Well, guys, this has been another amazing conversation, as always. I think every time we talk this stuff out, we go into it thinking, “Okay, is this going to be something that should be all doom and gloom?” And then I come out and I feel really positive about everything. Thank you guys very much.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

A: Thanks, guys. Well for everyone listening, we’re here to brighten your day as well, which is why we’d love you to leave us a review, tell your friends, rate us on iTunes, Spotify, wherever you get your podcasts. It definitely helps other people discover the show. Erica, Zach, I’ll see you right back here next week.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

A: Before we officially go, a word from the sponsor of this week’s podcast, Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now, for the credits. VinePair is produced and hosted by Zach Geballe, Erica Duecy and me: Adam Teeter. Our engineer is Nick Patri and Keith Beavers. I’d also like to give a special shout out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin and the rest of the VinePair team for their support. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again right here next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

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johnboothus · 4 years

Text

VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Listen online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or check out our conversation here

Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-podcast-how-craft-beer-can-thrive-in-the-pandemic

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ephemeralfuture · 7 years

Text

In Which The Paladin Bond and The Force are The Same [Part Two]

Days pass since Lance's discovery of the Force. It's old. Older than Voltron and Altea and Zarkon's empire. It seems similar to the thing that drives the Lions and Voltron, an energy. Lance sits completely still in his room and allows himself to sink into the buzzing field of the force, despite the screaming and the pain.

While the Force is scalding and demanding, he realizes that it was not like that before. In the time of Jedi and Sith and the time when being Force sensitive was a mystical aether like power it was less of a swirling substance and more of a crackling field. Not evil, nor good , thriving in neutrality. Now the force swims and swirls, in Lances mind and on his skin and the skins of his teammates. Time simply changed it. Lance and Hunk meditate together now, holding onto each other as they explore the howling stream of the force. "Whoa- how did you do that?" Hunk and Lance agreed that they were going to set aside a date to guide the rest of team Voltron into the Force. Now, a water packet is hovering in the air and Lance can see it turning slowly before Hunk. "I think you can use it to lift things up for you." Hunk says and the pack wobbles over to him and drops onto his lap. "Sweet!" Lance sits next to him and takes a deep breath before diving into the stream. He sits, fighting the howling currents and Hunk pulls him out of his reverie, tapping him on the bicep. "Dude." He says, "Breathe." Lance exhales and suddenly his head is clearer. "Try keeping your awareness on all the time. Like the Paladin Bond, but louder." Hunk says and Lance decides to extend his arm out to the water pouch from across the couch and a split second later the thing smacks him in the head. "Ho ho-! What a move!" Hunk laughs and Lance chuckles with him. The Lions and the castle always Vibrate now. It's less pulsating madness and more of a norm between Hunk and Lance. "Do you know what this means?" Lance says, "we can do so much more with this. Just imagine!" "I'll bet." Hunk hums. Lance and Hunk go before the team the next day, ready. They're all on the Bridge that morning. "Guys, Lance found something more to the Paladin Bond." Hunk announces and Lance smiles dazzlingly at them. "Aw shucks Hunk, I didn't find it, some lady on a planet did. But I did feel it." "There's more to the bond?" Pidge asks, eyes glimmering in interest, "what is it?" Lance realizes that convincing the rest of the team to simply feel beyond the Bond would take more convincing. Hunk swoops in to the rescue. "Find the Paladin Bond." He says, "and we'll guide you." "An impromptu training sequence!" Allura looks quite happy, proud of Hunk, even for bringing it up, and suddenly everyone's suiting up and going down to the training deck. Keith, Allura and Pidge sit in a circle with Hunk and Lance and Lance feels something off. "Shiro." He says suddenly and Shiro looks up from his place on the Observation deck, surprised. "We need you too." Allura and Keith both give him a strange looks. "Didn't Shiro loose his connection with the Black Lion?" Allura says. "He still shares a bond with us." Hunk says, "it's all he'll need for this." So Shiro sits with the five of them in a circle, sheepish. "Okay, now- find the bond." Lance easily clamps onto the steadying glimmers of Hunk and Allura. Pidge and Keith are harder to find but he pulls them in. They're hesitant but willing. Shiro's shimmer is faintest and the most hesitant and Lance has to tug and tug to make it stronger. "Okay..." Hunk's voice is far away, he's holding onto the other's links with him. Lance wants to simply dive in, to allow the screaming to sting him, but Hunk keeps him held back. Slowly.... Hunk's voice seems to murmur. It'll be rough. "Just let it guide you..." When Lance sinks into the Force, the Castle vibrating powerfully. He can hear the heartbeats of five instead of one- the brief flashes of the Plasma sabers and floating stones swimming across his eyes. The Force is life, but full of pained gaps. Something mangled parts of it beyond repair. When he pulls his mind back into his body, Hunk's light pulse holds and comforts him. Hunk is gripping his arm. "That... Was a lot." He says, "it'll still take time to accept it I think." Lance glances at the others, they're sweating and mostly pale . Lance wishes there's another way to show it to them. He wishes he can repair it back to being serene and whole, but the gaps are raw and dripping. It's all they have. "What- was that?" Keith's voice is haggard and freaked out, Lance wants to reach out with the Bond and hold him. "The Force." Allura whispers, awed, "The force is more than twenty thousand years old. A mere myth amongst my people. I didn't know it still lived under the idea of quintessence." "Sorry." Hunk says, "Lance and I are still figuring out how to introduce it without making people feel terrible." "Good Job Hunk." Shiro says. His voice is wrecked and his eyes are rimmed red. He must've received the brunt of the pain associated with the force. "Why was it screaming?" Pidge demands, her voice is shaky and her eyes are shimmering with tears, "there's so many thoughts- it's so bad-" Lance kneels scoots over to Pidge and holds her cheeks in his hands. "Breathe." He commands, "It's okay. The disturbance is Zarkon. All Zarkon, and the planets he killed. The force is alive. It's in you and me and Hunk and Voltron. It runs through everything. Concentrate." Pidge's heartbeat slows in Lance's head. He places his hands in his lap. Shiro gets up, antsy. "Hunk, how do you turn it off?" He asks suddenly, "What if you don't want this?" "Can't." Hunk says, "Lance already said it, the Force is in us and everything that lives." Lance feels Shiro's wild panicked sparking- he gets up and walks over to Shiro, who's taken to pacing and places a hand on his shoulder. "The force is calling to you. To all of us." Lance says seriously, "All you have to do is let it in." Shiro looks uncharacteristically ruffled by what Lance says and he nods mutely. Lance is glad that the raw ripped up gaps in the force is just as disturbing to him as the others. They can feel it and see it's result but it pulses and thrums with vibrant life despite the loss. "Allura." Lance says, and she's still in the floor, contemplative. She looks up, detached. "Will you be okay?" She stand, wobbling and nods. Lance doesn't want to push this new training any harder, she seems to be more aware of its presence than anything. Lance and Hunk still meditate and practice together and regularly dip into the full encompassing nature of the Force, hoping to quell its screaming and animalistic scrabbling. Allura summons her teammates to the training deck and Shiro and Coran stand in the Observation deck. Lance realizes that this will be the first time he'll be using the force to his advantage in a fight. It became Hunk's idea. Keith and Allura are on the front taking on Gladiators full on and Lance and Hunk are doing damage control while defending Pidge. The session is going well until a Gladiator gets close to Lance and and slams into his stomach, throwing him into Hunk. His bayard clatters to the floor and slides across the room and Hunk stumbles with him, thrown off guard. It's now or never. Lance glances at his bayard and sees the Gladiator advancing toward him. Trust in the force. Let it in. He whips his hand out to his bayard and in a second the thing clanks against the Gladiator's head and into Lance's outstretched hand. Lance shoots the Gladiator and that becomes the last of them.and the training session is over. "Wow Lance!" Hunk gushes, "you used it perfectly! what should we call that move?" "Dunno." Lance says with a grin, "Force pull?" "How about a force push?" Hunk says and they both chuckle. "How did you even do that?" Pidge demands and Lance wiggles his fingers at her. "I trusted in the force." He says, "just trust it and it'll give."

He wipes sweat from his brow, ignoring her doubtful look and turns to Keith who’s expression turns increasingly sullen.

“Keith my man, jealous of my smooth moves?” Lance smirks at him and Keith frowns.

“I don’t think you truly understand what you’re playing with.”

His smile drops and his stomach twists. He glances at Hunk and he looks just as nervous.

“What do you mean my man?”

He thinks of the scalding, the screaming- the sith and the darkness. He thinks of the insanity and the gaping wounds in the force’s field. It hurts, yes- but it’s not the Force’s fault.

“That thing fucked us up the moment we tried to touch it. If it’s letting you use it now, what if it wants something in return?”

“Keith.” Hunk says, “The force isn’t hiding or anything, and what Lance just did was him trusting it. I also gotta remind you that your Lion is made of the Force.”

Keith flushes a little, and Hunk smiles softly.

“Lance and I meditate with the force every other day. We want you to come.”

“He’ll mess with my mojo. But I’m agreeing because Hunk said so.” Lance pats Keith on the shoulder and walks out of the training deck.

Pidge and Keith appear at the entrance to the common room on Lance and Hunk’s Force meditation day and Lance couldn’t be anymore happier.

They have snacks and poke and prod into the stream in silence, pulling away when the Force gets too grabby. Lance can see that Pidge’s stream pulses and glimmers in curiosity with every interaction and in turn the Force gives a thrum of a memory, a woman of wit and brightness with bright green sabers.

“What happened to her? Her race?” Pidge asks suddenly and Lance is pulled out of his reverie, out of the stream. He sees her staring at him, eyes shimmering with that demanding glint. She wants to know. He glances at Hunk, clueless and Hunk shrugs at him.

“Don’t know Pidge.” Lance says, “Maybe you can ask.”

“How can you ask the Force what happened to the Woman’s race?” Keith asks, he’s been quiet the whole time, allowing his pulse to steadily be gripped along the stream. Lance worries that if he lets go he’ll be carried off and lost to the Force.

“I’m guessing the Force knows.” Hunk says, “Give it a try Pidge.”

Pidge looks hesitant, Lance can tell that she doesn’t want to go in alone.

“Pidge.” Lance says, “Try keeping your awareness on all the time, like with the Paladin Bond but not one thousand percent.”

Pidge sighs, “Helpful Lance, very helpful. But I’ll try.” She takes a deep breath.

Lance finds that her light pulse threads out a little farther than normal. What happened to the Togruta woman?

Hunk reaches out from across Lance’s lap and pushes Pidge’s shoulder, reminding her to breathe.

“Gone.” She finally says softly, “All gone. Died out three thousand years after she died. Planet destroyed five thousand years after they died.”

Pidge’s eyes are rimmed red, her eyes tired. Lance’s stomach whirls with disgust at himself. This is a consequence of asking things of the force.

Torn. It’s torn up and beating not unlike a heart. Lance reaches out with his light pulse, tendrils delicate and careful and finds hers within the safety of the paladin bond. Strange how this form of the Force is a calm pond while the rest of the Universe is tidal wave of agony.

I’m sorry Pidge.

“It’s not your fault.” She says immediately, and she wipes her eyes and glasses, “The Force is old, I should’ve expected there to be generations of dead races. It was just trying to make me happy.”

Lance checks up on Keith’s light pulse, safely within his grasp. He glances at Keith who gives him a puzzled look.

“You haven’t said anything this entire session.” Lance says, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Keith’s light pulse wriggles uncomfortably in his grasp and it sends a kick in Lance’s chest.

“Keith you’ve been with us in the Force this entire time and haven’t said a word. You’ve been pretty steady too- up until now. What’s up?”

Keith doesn’t answer. Lance then decides to pluck a tendril from Keith’s light pulse- to see what’s up.

What he doesn’t expect is an onslaught of worry upon worry. Keith is worried. Worried about his friends, about Voltron, about Lance and Shiro and the Blade and himself and the force. Keith worries so much that it makes Lance reel.

He also doesn’t expect Keith to fall over from his cross-legged sitting style onto the floor screaming.

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somethingmorecreative1 · 7 years

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we’re the beginning of the end [klance fic]

VLD zombie apocalypse au by @maireep and @somethingmorecreative1

Check out part 1 before you read this. You can find it here. Title from “Young Volcanoes” by Fall Out Boy.

keith and lance band together, as the only two mildly sane people they’ve met so far and slowly create a strong bond that leaves all of their plans with loose ends as they try to survive and thrive together.

pairing: klance rating: unrated

ii.

The sun was probably a few hours from setting, and the wind was getting chilly. It blew almost constantly now, sometimes harder, sometimes softer, and Lance thought that the weather was ominous enough without the sound of Artax’s hooves clopping on the empty street and the breaths Keith let out every few minutes.

They had been traveling for hours before Keith finally tugged on Artax’s reins and turned his head enough to say, “I think we should find somewhere to camp for the night. I’ve never been in this part of the country before.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, and he couldn’t really help the bitter edge to his voice, “sounds good to me, cowboy.”

Keith didn’t say anything else; Lance didn’t expect him to.

Along the way on the back of the beautiful horse, Lance had started thinking and wishing that he never would have crawled out of that semi this morning. He almost thought he would have rather dealt with the walkers on the road and his absolute lack of a plan than be on the back of a horse with the most annoying person left in the world.

Because Keith hadn’t said hardly anything to him. Even when Lance had started to talk to him, Keith had either ignored him or shushed him in the fear of walkers hearing them. He didn’t tell Lance where they were going, didn’t ask him for any advice, barely even bothered with telling him his name and asking him to shoot down the roamers that were pursuing them. Since then, he’d been nearly silent. Lance wondered if he wished he would have left Lance behind too.

Now, Keith silently offered him some water. Lance took it, had a sip, and handed it back to him without saying a damn word.

The road ahead of them was empty, but the road behind them was full of walkers, roamers, biters. There wasn’t a difference in any of the names that they called them; they walked after you, some faster than others, and it only took one raw second, one mistake for you to become one of them.

Sometimes, Lance wondered if any of it was worth it. If, the next time one of them was headed straight for him, if he would just stand still and wait. Then, he would at least be with his family. Then, he wouldn’t be so fucking alone.

Keith’s presence did nothing to chase away his loneliness. For however pretty he was, it was misleading because he was an asshole.

For what seemed like the hundredth time today, Lance reminded himself that he was going to find Hunk. Hunk was all he had left anymore. He would meet him in Canada even if it killed him.

Which, it very well could. But that was the thing about having nothing left; it made all the huge, terrifying risks seem like manageable options instead.

Almost an hour after Keith had suggested finding somewhere to camp, they came upon a dirt road right off the abandoned highway. Keith clicked his teeth and pulled at Artax’s reins, and she stopped easily.

“Should we try it?” Keith’s voice was quiet. It matched the wind around them.

Lance looked around. He didn’t see any tracks that could be recent—which is something he’d gotten quite good at over the past few weeks, tracking. It had helped him stay alive and avoid trouble more times than he could count.

“It’s going to get dark soon,” he said, “so it’s either try it or stay on the road in the dark.”

Keith didn’t reply. Instead, he nudged Artax, and they started down the dirt road.

They blended into the trees as they continued down the road. Lance kept his eyes sharp, looking around them for walkers, but he hadn’t seen anything in hours. He wondered how close they were to D.C. Surely Keith had lead them in the opposite direction; surely he knew how dangerous the cities could be.

Trash and debris started to litter the road. There were more footprints in the dirt too, and from the way that they had edged out of the trees and dragged in the dirt, Lance had a wild guess that they were from walkers.

The trees cleared suddenly, and in the middle of the clearing ahead of them sat a small house, a wooden cabin. Lance was surprised by how ravaged it looked, how terribly undone this place looked.

Artax hesitated and came to a stop just as a walker turned toward them.

“Stay here,” Keith ordered. He slipped off of the saddle, boots hitting the ground with a thud. Lance was stuck between pissed off at being told what to do and grateful for not having to move.

He kept watch from Artax while Keith approached the walker and reached for his sword. He pulled it from the sheath on his back in one swift motion, and the blade’s metal glistened in the setting sunlight. Keith gripped the sword in his left hand and swung upward, taking off the walker’s head in one clean motion. Then, he stabbed the blade through the decapitated head.

Keith kept his sword out and looked over at Lance from underneath the brim of his black hat. He nodded toward the house and said, “I’ll clear it. You keep watch.”

Lance crossed his arms over his chest, but Keith didn’t wait for him to reply before he set off into the house.

“Is he always like this?” Lance asked Artax. She whinnied softly in response.

The clearing was empty of other walkers. There were a few bodies, and there was an abandoned car, with the door standing open. Trash littered the ground, so Lance didn’t even hope for finding any food or supplies here. This place had probably been cleared out long ago.

Keith came back out onto the old, rotting porch moments later. He nodded and sheathed his sword, “All clear. We can block the door for tonight.”

Lance didn’t bother replying. Instead, he swung his leg over and slid off Artax’s back, groaning a little when his feet hit the ground. His hips and back were sorer than he could ever remember them being in his entire life. In fact, his whole body was sore. Between all the running he’d done over the past few weeks and riding all day, he was surprised he could even move.

He looked up when he heard Keith smirking at him, “First time riding?”

Lance felt his cheeks heat up from both anger and lust. Keith’s smug expression did everything right for his beautiful face, and the way he was standing, with one hip cocked to the side, hat sitting crooked on his head, did the rest.

“No, jackass,” he replied airily. “It’s definitely not my first time.”

Keith didn’t say anything. Instead, he raised an eyebrow before walking forward to grab Artax’s reins. He shouldered past Lance, arms brushing each other, and headed back into the house, carefully guiding Artax inside.

He looked around. It was already starting to get dark, and if he tried to run right now, he probably wouldn’t make it very far.

He followed Keith and Artax inside.

;;

“Do you expect that thing to actually work?”

Lance looked up sharply. He had his phone in his hand, using it for the first time today. Usually, he kept it on airplane mode and played music while he was walking. It always did a good job of keeping him distracted, and honestly, it made him feel less alone.

Keith was looking at him. He couldn’t read the other man’s expression, but the tone in his voice irked Lance.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Lance snapped. Instead of waiting for a response, he popped his ear buds in and leaned back onto the ground, crossing his arms underneath his head. He fumed silently.

Minutes later, while he was trying to calm himself down with the sweet sound of Beyoncé, he felt something kick his shoe, and he opened his eyes to see Keith standing over him.

He took an earbud out. “What?”

“I asked if you were going to help me,” Keith said, jerking his head toward the door. “But if you’re too busy—”

“What’s your problem?”

Keith looked shocked for half a second until his expression settled back into what Lance had dubbed his resting bitch face. He couldn’t read his expression, other than the boredom, and honestly, he really didn’t care. At least, he tried to tell himself he didn’t.

“I don’t have a problem,” Keith’s voice was clipped short, which infuriated Lance to no end. How did this asshole not even show emotions? Did he just not have any? What was fucking wrong with him? “Do you?”

Lance rolled to his feet and stalked past Keith, grabbing the old couch and pushing it toward the door. Keith appeared at his side a few seconds later, and together, they shoved the couch against the door.

Lance leaned back up and turned to face Keith. He said, “I don’t have a problem either.”

“You sure about that?”

Instead of answering, he stared at Keith. The other man was staring right back at Lance, dark eyes wary, black hair frizzy. He’d taken off his Stetson and left it with his pack in the corner of the room with Artax, but he hadn’t removed any of his weapons. In fact, his hand was drifting awfully close to where he had a knife strapped to his belt.

Suddenly, Lance was overcome with wanting to leave. He needed to get out of here. He needed to leave. Fuck, he didn’t even know this guy. He could be some creep or—

“I’m sure,” Lance said. His voice sounded weird to his own ears. Despite everything in him screaming at him not to, he turned his back to Keith and went back to the other side of the small room. He laid back down on the ground, curling around his pack and keeping everything close. He kept his fingers on his knife.

He could still hear Keith shuffling around the room, so a few minutes later, he tossed over his shoulder, “Wake me up for watch later.”

;;

Keith woke him up with a kick to the leg and a simple, “Your watch.”

It felt like it had been five minutes from the time that Lance laid down, but when he sat up, it was completely dark outside the poorly boarded-up window. He checked his phone to see the time, more out of habit than anything, and found that it had been several hours and dawn wasn’t far off.

He watched absently as Keith crossed the room and settled onto the ground in front of Artax. He rolled onto his side away from Lance and got really still.

Lance quietly pulled some food and water from his pack. He would have to scavenge more today to be able to keep moving. Since yesterday, Keith hadn’t offered him any more water, and now, as Lance drank the rest of his own, he decided that when dawn came, he was leaving with it.

After he made his decision, he recounted his supplies. He still had a few candy bars, an empty bottle of water, and a pack of gum. He had the small gun he’d found at the very beginning, five bullets, and his knife. Then, he had a few extra shirts and an extra pair of jeans, along with another pair of boxers. He still had all his phone chargers, another pair of headphones, and the small solar charger that his sister had gotten him for his birthday a few years ago. Plus, all of his somewhat useless skin care products.

It was all he had now. His small pack, his guitar, his supplies, and his memories.

Dawn came quickly, and Lance gathered his supplies and got to his feet silently. He pulled the couch back enough for him to slip out of the door, and as he set his pack and guitar case out onto the porch, Artax lifted her head to look at him.

“Shh,” he murmured to her. She was a beautiful horse. He hoped Keith would take good care of her. “I’ll block it back. Goodbye, gorgeous.”

She whined quietly, but Keith never moved. Lance slipped through the door and pulled the couch after him to block the door back because even if Keith was an asshole, he wasn’t going to leave him vulnerable to any walkers. He knelt and grabbed his pack, throwing it on his back, and he slipped his guitar case over his chest too, using the rope he’d found as a makeshift strap while he looked around. The yard was empty of walkers, and the wind was oddly silent. Nothing was moving today, but Lance kept his hand on his knife anyway as he set off at a jog.

Despite the clear sky and warm sunshine on his face, something felt off. Lance had gotten used to being on his own in the past few weeks; he was used to the quiet, to the constant watchfulness that he needed throughout the day. He was capable of watching his own back and taking care of himself. He had gotten used to this weeks ago, as soon as he realized that he couldn’t trust other people anymore.

So why did it feel different today? Out of every other day, after everything else that had happened, why did it feel so weird, so different today?

Lance jogged until he got to the paved highway, and he let himself look back once before he turned and headed in the direction Keith had been leading them yesterday. He could stop and scavenge at the next place he found, possibly wait for Keith to pass by, get a plan together before he started to head northwest in search of Hunk.

He walked for the better part of a couple of hours. The day was turning out to be more beautiful than Lance could remember in a while. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and if he was back in Cuba with his family, his dad would say that it was the perfect day for gardening and surfing when they finished their chores.

Lance stopped suddenly and ducked down to the pavement. There was a car ahead, sitting in the middle of the road. It looked like it had been moved recently. It was cleaner than abandoned cars tended to be, and Lance could see supplies stacked in the back of it through the windows.

He wondered if it was a trap. But—he was so thirsty. Maybe there was some water inside?

He would be quick, and he would only take what he needed.

Lance shoved his gun into the pocket inside his jacket where he could grab it easily in case he needed it. He hoped he didn’t—he only had a few bullets left and he didn’t know when or if he would be able to find more.

He would grab what he needed and be on his way. That was all. It wouldn’t take long, and nothing would happen. Nothing would happen.

It took him a few more minutes before he had convinced himself enough to rise and start toward the car.

Lance ran forward. His hands were shaking, and he could hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. He dashed to the side of the car and looked around quickly, crouching down beside the back door of the passenger side. He held his breath while he reached for the door handle and eased it open.

The car alarm that he was expecting never came. Instead, the door opened with just a small creak, and when he looked inside, there was a mountain of supplies. Clothes, food, knives—

Water. There were bottles of it.

Lance grinned to himself and reached forward, grabbing as many as he could hold. He reached around and grabbed his pack, opening it and shoving the water down into it. Fuck, thank god he found it—

He was trying to decide if he should get some of the food when he heard a gun cock.

He jumped, reaching for his knife and—

“Why don’t you just slow down there, pretty boy?”

The voice was slow, calm. It had a southern twang to it, and it made Lance think of those other men that he had faced a few weeks ago. Fuck, just the way he called him “pretty boy” made Lance think of so many of the people he’d met since the end of the world that had tried to screw him over.

“I’ll put everything back and leave,” Lance offered, finding his voice. It only shook a little.

“Now why would I want that? Especially when it looks like I’ve finally found myself some good company.”

Lance swallowed.

The voice continued, “Don’t try anything stupid, now. I’ll shoot you if you do, alright? Just turn around slowly and we can talk about this, can’t we?”

Lance took a breath and turned around.

The man facing him had obviously seen better days. He was older, beard and hair long turned gray. His eyes were dark, and the way his mouth was quirked didn’t give Lance any hope that he would just let him go. He was holding a semiautomatic pistol—a Smith & Wesson, Lance thought—straight at Lance’s chest.

“Where’ya from, boy?” the man asked.

“New York,” he said, staring at the gun. The safety was off.

“And where you headed?”

“Canada.”

The man laughed, “Shit, boy, you still think that’s gonna work out? Fuck me. Canada’s drowning in them rotters just like we are.”

Lance felt his heart drop in his chest but—this lunatic didn’t know. He didn’t know for sure that Canada was gone. There was no way.

Right?

“Well then,” the man moved closer, squatting to the ground in front of Lance. He titled Lance’s chin up with the barrel of the gun. “You’re not going to Canada. Me an’ you are just gonna stay out here and have lots of fun, how about it?”

“No,” Lance muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Lance repeated, louder this time. He would rather—he would rather be shot right now, right here, than have anything to do with this man. At least then he’d be with his family, at least then he’d—

“That just won’t work, boy,” the man hummed, leaning into Lance’s space. He smelled and his teeth were yellowing with age and Lance could feel the breath on his neck because he was so close. The pistol was digging into his ribs now and—

Then, suddenly, without warning, a single shot echoed through the otherwise empty air, and the man jerked back. Lance followed his gaze, and he must have already been dead because he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

A black figure was standing in the middle of the road, holding a semiautomatic rifle in one hand and a sword in the other. The sun was behind the figure, casting a heavy shadow onto the pavement, and there was a thin cloud of smoke rising from the gun, from where it had been fired. Behind the figure, there was something else, and it… from here, it looked like a horse.

“I believe I heard him tell you no,” the figure said, and Lance recognized the voice in less than a heartbeat.

Keith and Artax. Keith and Artax!

“Why don’t you pretend like you didn’t hear anything and just move along?” the man said, leaning back from Lance a bit and crouching in front of him.

Keith lifted his head enough that Lance could see his face underneath his Stetson. His expression was… Lance hadn’t known Keith long at all, but Lance knew enough that Keith was furious. His voice was colder than anything he’d ever used with Lance when he said, “Get away from him or I’ll kill you.”

There was a second of tense silence before the man laughed a little. “He’s mine now, son. Might as well take that beautiful horse of yours and move on. Can’t have it all, now can you?”

While the man had his eyes on Keith, Lance carefully, slowly, moved his hand to his jacket and grabbed his gun.

Keith grit his teeth and growled, “Get away from him.”

Artax huffed menacingly, echoing Keith’s point.

“No can do,” the man shrugged. “You can either move on or stay and watch.”

Tears pricked Lance’s eyes as the man leaned back in toward him, ghosting his chapped lips and nasty beard over Lance’s jaw. Lance tightened his fingers around the gun, dug it into the man’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

The echo was louder than Lance thought it would be, and the blood spray was worse. It was everywhere. The man’s full weight sagged onto Lance, and he cried out, shoving at him and—

Keith was there the next second, grabbing the man’s body and tossing it off of him. He grabbed Lance’s arms and hauled him up and away from the car, sweeping him a few feet away. His hands were frantic, tracing up and down his arms and it took Lance a few seconds to realize that he was talking.

“Fuck, Lance, Lance,” he was saying, “are you okay? Are you hurt? Tell me where you’re hurt. Oh god, fuck, what happened? Where—?”

“Keith?” Lance asked, voice wobbling.

Keith nodded, and he reached up to tilt his hat back so he could see his face completely. His dark eyes were wide, heavy with worry. His mouth was set into a grim line. Lance looked down. At some point, Keith had dropped both his sword and his gun, probably in his rush to get over to Lance after—

Lance was still gripping the gun. He hand was sticky with blood from where he had been so close, and it covered his clothes. Some of it had splattered on his face too.

He forced his fingers open, and the gun clattered to the pavement. Then, nausea swooped through him, bile was rushing up his throat, and he doubled over and puked. His pack and guitar slipped off of his back.

Keith’s hand smoothed over his back, carefully, lightly. When Lance was done and he leaned back up, he was surprised to see Keith looking at him.

“Was that the first person you’ve killed?”

Lance nodded numbly.

Keith nodded too, and his voice was serious when he said, “He deserved it, Lance. He wasn’t going to stop. Nothing would have made him stop until one of us killed him. There was nothing else you could have done. Nothing else would have worked.”

“I know,” Lance choked out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

Lance frowned. Was he… Was Keith being serious?

“I left you,” he whispered. He couldn’t get his voice any louder.

“You blocked the door behind you,” Keith murmured, matching his volume. “You said goodbye to Artax.”

“You were awake?”

“Of course I was awake,” Keith offered him a small smile, one that didn’t really touch his eyes. “You’re really loud.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?”

Keith shrugged then, and for the first time, he looked away from Lance. One of his hands was still gripping Lance’s forearm, but his fingers were loose and careful. He said, “I wasn’t going to stop you if you really wanted to go. I still won’t. If you don’t want to stay with me… I understand. I wasn’t following you either, and I won’t if you decide to leave again. I can help you get this car started so you can go.”

Lance blinked. He was still shaking from earlier, and honestly, he couldn’t imagine what would have happened if Keith hadn’t shown up and—

And now Keith was going to help him get a car and leave. He was offering to help him and let him leave, no strings.

“Why?” Lance asked.

Keith shrugged again, and if Lance’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, he was blushing. He said, “Artax really likes you, and she never takes to new people. Plus, you’re good with a gun and—”

Artax was there then, and she huffed and shoved Keith’s shoulder with her nose.

He sighed, glaring at her before turning back to Lance with a softer look. His face and voice were both honest when he said, “I like you too. I think—I think we would make a good team. I know I have Artax, but… being alone is dangerous, and I’m—I’m tired. I think you feel the same way.”

Lance stared at him. He stared for so long that a few walkers wandered out into the road, and Keith nodded, telling him to stay with Artax while he took care of them.

Artax drifted closer to Lance, and she let him step into her, burying his face into her soft coat.

Keith was back a few seconds later, a steady presence behind him. He said, “I don’t know what I did to make you leave in the first place but—I’m sorry.”

“I thought you hated me,” Lance muttered, voice muffled by Artax. “You didn’t talk to me. I thought you wanted me to leave.”

“I didn’t,” Keith responded. “I don’t want you to leave. Unless you want to. Then I’ll help you.”

Lance took a breath, trying to calm his heart. A few seconds later, he managed to turn toward Keith. He was gripping his sword loosely in his hand, but he was staring at Lance.

“Okay,” he said, stepping closer to Keith.

He frowned, “Okay, you’re leaving?”

Lance rolled his eyes, but the gesture was soft, and there was a smile biting at the edges of his mouth. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“You will?” There was a hopeful edge to Keith’s voice, which filled Lance with relief.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

;;

They went back to the cabin to stay and regroup for a few days. Lance was still shaking from earlier, and Keith didn’t act like he was in a hurry to get on the road either. Lance drove the car with the supplies back while Keith and Artax followed him, and they sat on the porch together while Artax grazed in the front yard. Every so often, a walker would stumble out of the woods, and Keith would heave a sigh and get up with his sword.

Keith sat back down on the steps beside Lance from doing just that. His voice was soft when he said, “Where’s your family?”

“Cuba,” Lance responded, leaning his head against his knees and looking up at him. Keith was leaned back on his hands, staring straight ahead, sword resting across his lap. “I was at NYU going to school. I talked to my mom right before the islands were swarmed, but after that…”

Lance trailed off, not knowing how to finish, not knowing if he wanted to.

“That’s why I’m heading toward Canada,” Lance continued a few minutes later when he’d found his voice. “My best friend and his family were going that way. I told him I would meet him there. He’s all I have left anyway.”

Keith nodded silently, and the wind drifted around them. Artax grazed silently too.

“I don’t have anyone left either,” Keith said suddenly, breaking the silence. “My dad’s ranch was overrun early on. Artax and I… we were the only ones that made it.”

“What are you doing all the way up here then?”

“I have—had a brother who lived a few hours north of D.C. He was a GI, and when everything went to shit, my dad told me to go find him. I went to his house first but… everything was gone. He was gone too,” Keith’s voice cracked over the last sentence. “I don’t have anything left.”

Fuck, Lance knew how Keith felt. Having your entire family just be gone… yeah, he knew that. He knew what it was like to be alone, to be lonely, to feel like you were the only person in the fucking world.

And honestly, why bother? Why would anyone bother with living when they felt that way?

Keith had been right earlier. Lance was tired. He was tired of being alone.

He lifted his head from his knees and scooted closer to Keith until he was right beside him. Then, he lowered his head to Keith’s shoulder and said, “You’ve got me if you want me.”

Keith’s breath caught in his chest, but Lance pretended like he didn’t notice. They’d had a hard day, both of them. Tomorrow would be better. Everything was going to be okay.

It even felt like it would when Keith leaned into him and murmured, “You’ve got me too.”

#klance: more than alive #klance zombie apocalypse au #rachel writes klance #rachel and maire write klance #fic tennis #voltron fic #klance #voltron #what other tags do we need?#part 2 #rachel writes stuff #maireep

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 7 years

Text

The New Romantics ch. 3

Part 1 Here

Part 2 Here

click the OP if the read more link doesn’t show.

*Revised Version

The New Romantics Playlist

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484630/chapters/26102127

Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/613355550-the-new-romantics-klance-boy-x-boy-ch-3-we-need

A few days had passed since the system override. The lions were in better condition, and the crew was lucky enough to go without an attack for the time they were in repair.

Most of the nights- practically every night- called for Keith and Lance to be in one or the other’s rooms, experimenting more.

One night, with Lance’s guidance, Keith had decided it was his turn to find the hotspots. He was a little hesitant with the free reign over Lance’s body, but then Lance clued him in to certain places of his body, encouraged him when it felt nice. Keith kind of loved how he felt when he made Lance fall apart. It was so satisfying to know he could do that. That Lance was giving Keith that power.

Another night, after they’d both come down from the highs of blowjobs, Keith was experimenting with letting his hands roam over Lance’s body because that was something Lance really liked while Lance peppered his neck with kisses and small nibbles. Until suddenly, Lance pulled away and stared at Keith curiously.

“W-what?” Keith snapped, feeling uncomfortable under that gaze if they weren’t in the middle of getting each other off.

Lance shrugged and sat back, fiddling with Keith’s hand. “I was thinking, we don’t really talk about the stuff we would wanna experiment with.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Well, like… okay, you’ve watched porn right?”

“I’m not letting you film us,” he said flatly.

Lance groaned and threw his hands up in exasperation. “No! That’s not what I meant! I just mean, you know, there’s a bunch of categories for different kinks. And I mean, I think my kink is biting-”

“You think?”

“But we might have more, and you must have your own that we can sort of bring in, you know. Or just stuff you’d wanna try.”

“Like what?” he asked.

Lance thought for a moment and shrugged. “Like… being tied up or tying someone up. Gagging is a thing. Asphyxiation, I think.” Keith’s eyes widened. “It’s not like, violent!” he assured. “Look, there’s always boundaries, you know. A signal, or a word to stop if it’s too much. It’s more of like a rush, I think? I’ve never tried it, but it sounded cool.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “You’re not choking me, you psycho.”

Lance huffed and narrowed his eyes. “Okay, first of all who said I would be doing the choking? And second, I thought this whole friends with benefits deal was to experiment. To figure out stuff we like and don’t like. You keep shutting down ideas because you won’t even try them, but you might like them.” Keith rolled his eyes. “There’s… a knife kink.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “You know, if you’re into it. Using a knife to make someone submit. Running it over their skin.” Lance leaned in closer. “Having all control over the situation, making them tremble under you. Marking their skin with the smallest nick, watching them squirm for more, for you.” Keith let out a soft breath, his cheeks heated, and a rush of blood going to his groin as Lance bit his lip.

Then suddenly Lance leaned away and laughed. “But no way in hell am I letting you press a blade to my skin.”

Keith scoffed. “Wha- Lance! Then why did you even bring it up, you asshole?”

Lance snorted and looked down at Keith’s groin where a slight bulge rose in the fabric of his sleepwear. “I knew you had a thing for control. You like being in charge.” Keith shrugged and shifted to hide the obvious excitement Lance had elicited. “Come on. That’s what this deal is for. We’ll try things I want to try to see if we like them, and we’ll try things you want to try.”

“For someone who had no sexual experience before this, you know a lot,” Keith noted.

Lance sighed and blushed. “I… I watched a fair share of porn. I thought it could teach me or something, just in case. So I wouldn’t be a total loser my first time having sex. But, porn doesn’t really serve as an educational thing.”

Keith laughed a bit at that and shook his head. Then he huffed. “Fine. We’ll experiment with some of that stuff. But… nothing too weird okay? I heard some guy at the Garrison liked peeing on girls and that’s just-”

“Ew, no. Urine is off the table.” Keith nodded in agreement. Lance smiled and leaned back into Keith’s neck, kissing him and biting gently on his earlobe. “So… anything you want to try tonight?”

Keith shrugged. “You choose.”

Lance bit his lip. “I don’t think you’ll like it…. But… I kind of want to try something with like…. Uh… well, sort of like-”

“Jesus, Lance spit it out,” Keith said impatiently.

“Face-fucking,” Lance blurted.

Keith stared at him. “Face… fucking…?”

Lance turned red and started using his hands to talk. “It’s not like our faces smothering each other or anything, it’s just like when you give a blow job and you just let the person go as fast as they want, you know? Like, you make me stay still when you give me a blowjob, but I kind of want to try it with you staying still, but I know you might not want to because it means you have to be submissive, which you don’t like doing, so-”

“Alright, alright!” Keith said, covering Lance’s mouth with his hand. His mouth was still a little sore from the blowjob he’d given Lance when he first came into his room. “Are you… sure you wanna do that?”

Lance nodded. “I really wanna see what it’d be like.”

Keith hesitated, every instinct telling him to say no because he didn’t want to give Lance any control over him. But he had also been intrigued by the concept of the knife thing, and… they were supposed to experiment anyway. Lance had said if it was too much, they could have a sign or a word to stop.

“Okay…. And if I really don’t like it…?” he asked.

Lance thought for a moment. “Um, then you can grab my wrists. Since you can’t talk.” Keith nodded. “So… yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, let’s try that. And if I don’t like it, I’ll grab your wrists so you can stop.” Keith bit his lip and took a deep breath. “So… here on the bed, or…?”

“Oh!” Lance got up and grabbed a pillow putting it near the wall. He went over and pulled Keith up from the bed. “You’re sure this is okay?” Keith nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

“You’re not turned on,” Keith noted as he started to get on his knees.

“I- Shit.” Lance pulled Keith back up. “Well, it’s just. I’m nervous. I don’t want you to hate it, and I don’t know you’re so fucking stoic about all of this, so I can’t really-”

Keith cut him off with a kiss, pulling him in closer and pulling at the hair at the nape of Lance’s neck. Lance hissed and kissed Keith back harshly, cradling his head with his hands. Keith pulled away and leaned down to kiss his neck, then lower to the hollow of his throat where he knew Lance loved to be touched. Surely enough as Keith swirled his tongue there, Lance let out a breathy moan. Keith slid his hands under Lance’s shirt, and traced up his torso with light fingers.

Lance looked at Keith and bit his lip, breathing heavily as Keith continued to make goosebumps rise on his skin while teasing Lance with a near-kiss.

“Keith,” Lance whispered.

“Yes?”

There was no verbal response. Just Lance leaning forward to kiss him. Keith was always a little thrown when Lance kissed him. Because his kisses varied. Keith could handle the heated ones with Lance’s tongue demanding to taste every inch of his mouth, with his teeth biting down to practically claim his lips. Keith could handle the playful ones Lance gave him to help him ease up when they did things. And he could handle the softer ones meant to turn him on slowly.

But he never really knew what to do with these. These unexpected kisses that were too soft to be meant for much more than just physical contact. That slowly built up to be a little more intense, but never enough to unleash anything animalistic.

They always confused him a bit, but he was starting to figure out that Lance was a very touchy, affectionate person. Even in a friends-with-benefits deal, he liked the subtler touches, the softer kisses. Lance seemed to thrive off those, whereas Keith enjoyed the touches and kisses that held no reserves. It was like Lance was living out a fantasy of maybes through this deal, and Keith couldn’t bring himself to reject it because… well, it was nice. The soft touches, the playful fingers, the gentle kisses, they were things Keith might not manage to experience with someone in a real relationship, so he didn’t want them to stop. Even if they meant nothing. Even if they were only meant to satiate a want without ever being fully satisfying.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Lance said, pulling back, bumping their noses together.

“I can handle it,” Keith insisted. “Come on, before you lose your chance.” He knelt down, pressing a kiss to Lance navel, unbuttoning his jeans. While not fully hard, Lance was definitely getting turned on now. Keith rubbed him through his boxers, pressing kisses to his thighs.

He glanced up and saw Lance looking down at him with his lip between his teeth, his eyes focused on Keith completely.

His hand grabbed Keith’s chin and tilted his face up, and Keith resisted the urge to yank away by habit. He reminded himself that this was for Lance. An experiment. And besides, his fellow paladin still seemed nervous and worried he’d upset Keith, which was actually really nice. It was… kind of Lance to worry about Keith.

“It’s okay,” Keith said, forcing himself to relax in Lance’s hands.

Lance nodded and let his thumb run across Keith’s bottom lip, moaning softly as Keith rubbed him a little more. With his free hand, he pulled his boxers down. He grabbed Keith’s hand and had him wrap around his cock, stroking him to a full erection, while keeping his face tilted up. He shoved his thumb into Keith’s mouth and rocked his hips slowly into his hand.

Lance pushed his head beck to the wall. “Stay there so you don’t hit your head,” he said. Keith bit down slightly on Lance’s thumb and nodded. “Don’t move.” Keith’s eyes fluttered shut and open. “Hands behind your back.”

“What, why-”

Lance pulled his thumb out and gripped Keith’s jaw to keep him from talking. “I said, don’t move.” Keith stared at him, surprised by the control he saw in his eyes. He slowly relaxed and blinked up at Lance lazily. “Hands behind your back. Unless you need to grab my wrists so I can stop, keep them there.”

Keith put his hands behind his back and maintained eye contact with Lance, a slight smile on his lips. He had to admit, it was pretty… arousing to see Lance giving orders. Keith wasn’t sure how he felt about receiving them, but… it was an experiment still in progress.

“Open.” Lance tugged at Keith’s jaw until his mouth fell open. “Stay against the wall.” Keith took a deep breath.

Then Lance pushed forward, slipping into Keith’s mouth and moaning. He was heavy, hot, and familiar. Keith wrapped his lips around him and grunted softly at the intrusion as Lance pushed in further without giving Keith a few strokes to get used to it.

Lance’s speed built up quickly, until he was forcing himself into Keith’s mouth, triggering his gag reflex, and using one hand to force his mouth to fall open a little wider. It was a strain for Keith, and he was struggling to catch his breath with how quickly Lance was literally fucking his mouth. He was embarrassed by the sound that came from his throat, from his need to breathe, from the ridiculous amount of saliva dribbling from his lips.

He was two seconds away from pulling his hands from his back and grabbing Lance’s wrists. He’d actually moved them and started to reach when one of Lance’s hands grabbed a fistful of his hair to tilt his head back, making Keith moan as his eyes rolled back. He looked at Lance’s face, the bliss on it, the admiration, and he put his hands behind his back again.

He understood now why Lance had him keep his head against the wall. Keith could feel the tears prickling at his eyes. The image of Lance above him became fuzzy, and Keith fell slack, realizing he was meant to just take what Lance gave him and prove he could handle it.

The hand that had been pulling at his jaw went to his cheek, and a thumb brushed away the stray tears that managed to fall down his face. “Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. So good,” Lance grunted, pulling tighter on the roots of Keith’s hair. “You’re okay, right?”

Keith blinked and sucked his cheeks in, making Lance’s thrusts stutter.

“Can I go faster?” Keith pulled forward, taking Lance into his mouth as much as he could, but Lance shoved him back against the wall. Keith winced at the thump, but it hadn’t hurt. “Don’t pull forward, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lance pulled back, falling from Keith’s mouth slickly. Keith breathed heavily, his mouth sore and empty. “I can take it. You can go faster. I won’t move.” He looked up at Lance and opened his mouth, going against every instinct and becoming completely compliant. He could fucking handle it.

After a second of staring down at Keith, Lance guided his cock back into Keith’s mouth and Keith’s eyes closed as he resumed the quick pace he had earlier. He could feel Lance hitting the back of his throat harshly, and he tried to loosen his throat to bring him in deeper.

Suddenly Lance was slamming into him at a brutal pace, and Keith could only let his body become loose. Every other thrust Keith’s nose was being shoved into a pubic bone and the scent of musk made him dizzy and… oddly turned on.

“Fuck, Keith. Fuck, fuck,” Lance panted above him. “Open your eyes, baby. Let me see those eyes.” Keith opened his eyes and looked up at Lance, blinking slowly. Lance planted his feet on either side of Keith and braced himself against the wall with one hand. The other remained in his hair, pushing his head back, keeping it against the wall. “O-oh, ah, fuck,” Lance breathed. “You’re doing so fucking well, Keith, so loose for me. Your mouth is so warm, so- oh fu-uck!” Keith could barely hear the praise. He was dizzy and all he could really process was the hot, heavy weight in his mouth, the contradicting texture of soft and hard, the taste of salty precome and sweat.

Lance thrust harder, faster and Keith choked, but he didn’t move. Then all of a sudden, there was a warmth shooting into his mouth, and Lance was pulling away, making Keith shut his eyes as the rest of Lance’s orgasm coursed through him. Come splattered on his face, but he was able to breathe now.

He collapsed against the wall, loosening the muscles of his arms and gasping.

“Fuck, shit, Keith? Keith!” Lance knelt down and put his hands on either side of his face. “Keith, baby, you okay?”

Keith smiled and nodded. “I’m okay,” he croaked with a raspy voice. His mouth hurt, and his throat felt funny, but he was okay. He wasn’t hurting. “Tired.”

Lance pulled his boxers and sweats up, then he knelt back down and pulled Keith up. “Come on. Let’s get you on the bed.” Keith sat down and Lance sat beside him, running his hands through Keith’s hair as he wiped his face with a shirt. “Uh, here. I had some water from training earlier.” He handed Keith a bottle, and when Keith just grabbed it, Lance opened it and put it to his lips. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Keith.”

“Why?”

“I…. I think I pushed you too hard, I-”

Keith shook his head. “Uh-uh. Just tired. Just my jaw hurts.”

“I’m sorry.” Lance leaned in and pressed several kisses to his jawline. “I’m sorry, Keith.”

“D’you like it? Being in charge?”

Lance snorted and looked at Keith. “Y-yeah. You did a good job at that. Thank you for trying it out with me.”

Keith nodded. “Mhm. Told you I could do it.” Lance laughed and shuffled over to sit beside Keith, pulling him into an awkward half embrace.

“Want me to take you to your room?” Keith nodded.

It was weird. He didn’t feel dizzy anymore. But he felt small. He felt tired and… feeble. Part of him was still expecting a command. He felt fuzzy and out of place. Lance led him to his room and Keith bit his lip as Lance stood at the door.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lance asked, with worry in every word as his eyes looked Keith over.

“Yeah. Just… I feel a little off, I think. But I’ll be okay.” Lance frowned. “Really, I’m okay. And it’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least help you fall asleep? I’ll feel better knowing you were able to sleep.” Keith rolled his eyes, but part of him was kind of grateful. He needed to feel a little more human. And maybe Lance’s little thing with touches would help.

Sure enough, Keith fell asleep with the feeling of Lance’s hands gently sliding through his hair and soft murmurs of a lullaby in Spanish. The fuzzy feeling went away. He felt a little more like himself. And when he woke up alone, he felt normal.

Over the next few nights, Keith discovered that praising Lance actually made Lance more eager, made him a little easier to turn on. He liked being told when he was doing a good job, and he particularly loved making Keith moan his name. They also discovered that Keith liked having his hair pulled, because he knew it meant he was doing something good and it made all of his body’s nerves go on high alert. And while Lance obviously loved biting Keith anywhere he could, Keith discovered that he liked being bitten. Though they tried their best not to have any evidence of their nightly endeavors on any place of their body that the others could see.

As for kinks, Lance brought in a pair of Altean prisoner cuffs and asked Keith to tie him to the posts of the bed. That night, Keith discovered how much he liked bondage, which… he hadn’t really expected to like. He was still hesitant to let Lance try it on him ever since that weird feeling that came from the face-fucking.

Outside of their rooms, it was almost comical how it seemed nothing had changed. They argued, they snapped at each other, Lance’s sarcastic comments and Keith’s condescending remarks continued. Never enough to truly upset the other, but enough to where it seemed like nothing had changed.

It wasn’t hard to keep it up. Lance was still childish and annoying and frustrating. And Keith was still aggressive and impulsive and short-tempered. They were still completely incompatible as people.

During another grueling team building exercise, it didn’t take long for Keith and Lance to start bickering again.

“Can’t you stop being an idiot for two seconds?” Keith snapped after their focus had been disrupted by one of Lance’s signature mega-burps. “Don’t you take anything seriously? We could die out here, you know?”

“Jeez, relax,” he muttered. “You know, maybe you’d stop being so uptight if you just stopped being such a freaking workaholic all the time!”

“This is not a time to be goofing off!” he shouted back.

“Alright that’s enough, you two,” Shiro said tiredly. “I thought you were past this.”

“We would be, if he stopped being so immature,” Keith spat, glaring at Lance. It still astonished him that he could fall apart at his hands in the late hours of the night but feel such burning frustration with him in daylight.

“Yeah, we’re only friends in battle,” Lance added, crossing his arms.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Hunk said. “We’ve been at this for hours. I’m starving, and now I can’t concentrate. Can we just take a break?” Shiro sighed and nodded, waving a tired hand in defeat. Hunk and Shiro walked away, but Pidge kept staring at Lance and Keith.

They hadn’t noticed, Keith busy checking his dagger and Lance checking the beds of his nails. Until she said, “If only you two could agree with each other during training as much as you do at night.”

Keith and Lance’s heads snapped up, but Pidge was already walking away, shoulders shaking as she laughed. “Whoa, hey!” Keith called, both of them racing towards her. Lance reached out, blocking her exit, and Keith turned her around. “What’d you say?” he asked, his cheeks red.

“What do you know?” Lance asked, his voice much more serious than he had been a few moments ago.

“More than I’d like,” she admitted, looking up at them over the rim of her glasses. She crossed her arms and smirked. “What, you think this place has sound proof walls? Come on. You’re just lucky Hunk’s a heavy sleeper and everyone else’s rooms are farther away. Meanwhile, I’m trapped between both of you.” She fixed her glasses to set further up her nose and shrugged. “So what? You two secretly dating?”

“Ugh, God no,” Keith muttered.

“As if,” Lance said at the same time, both of them glaring at the other. “Space is lonely, that’s all.” He frowned and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Sorry if we kept you up.”

“I started sleeping in my lion three nights ago,” she said flatly. “Don’t worry I’ll be looking into soundproof technology, especially knowing you two plan on keeping this up.” She shuddered and shook her head. “Do you guys even have stuff to safely- oh, God, I don’t even wanna ask. But seriously. If you can mess around at night, you should at least be able to stop arguing when we train.” She turned away with both of them looking after her.

“I guess she’s right about that,” Keith mumbled, gritting his teeth.

“Yeah, but you’re still too obnoxiously uptight for it to go that way,” Lance said as he walked away. Keith resisted the urge to knock him to the ground, and settled for shoving him as they left the training room.

Later that day, Allura had them go out to explore the planet they were currently seeking refuge in. After the lions had gone down and the system had to get re-hacked by Pidge, Allura had settled them on a different planet each day in hopes that they wouldn’t get tracked.

And each time, they were sent to explore, in case they found anything valuable or useful, or even edible. The five of them walked along the gel-like terrain, translucent and transparent with each step they took.

“Trippy,” Hunk muttered, lifting his foot and setting it down several times on the same spot as he watched the glow of the color-changing ground.

The inhabitants of the planet were large, more similar to the humans than most races. They were twice their size, their skin rubbery and aqua-green with swirls of glowing purple and pink. They had wings like dragonflies and webbing between their toes and long fingers. Aside from that, their features were mostly human-like. Eyes varied in color, full lips, normal teeth with slightly longer canines, ears at the sides of their head. The males had a set of disturbing bony spikes along their shoulders, the females had long, thin tails, and those which weren’t necessarily either or had vertical stripe of gold up their torsos and neither spikes nor tails.

They were a magnificent, gentle species. They’d welcomed the Paladins and Alteans without hesitation. The empress’ daughter had volunteered to help guide them through the land, and she took them through the brush and vines of the terrain with ease. Everything was so large, the Paladins felt like ants in comparison. The empress’ daughter, who went by the name Zirai’ia was shorter than most due to not only her age but her genetics. She was only about a foot taller than the tallest paladin, and it was a little more comforting to be with her as they sought out the grounds.

“So, how old are you?” Lance asked. Keith nearly hit him upside the head. You never ask a girl that, even Keith knew it.

“Only a hundred and eighty-three flaxins,” she answered. The paladins looked at each other uncertainly. “I’ve almost reached the age of full maturity. On my two-hundredth flaxin, my mother will have a ceremony where I will finally receive my marks.”

“So like a sweet-sixteen,” Keith reasoned. “Age of womanhood, whatnot.”

“Or a quinceanera,” Lance added.

“Or a bat mitzvah,” Pidge included.

“What happens after the marks?” Hunk asked.

“A mating ceremony,” she answered easily. “So I can marry. It’s three days long.”

“A three day mating ceremony?” Lance asked, his voice hitching. “Sounds… tiring.”

“What’s the average age your people reach here?” Shiro asked, avoiding the mating ritual topic.

“Physical forms last up to nine hundred flaxins. In some cases up to a thousand. But the spirit lasts forever. We go on to form different aspects of our planet. That’s why everything glows. It’s alight with the life of all our ancestors.”

Hunk gulped and felt his stomach churn as he stepped forward and another translucent haze of orange beamed up. “That’s… disturbing,” he mumbled. Lance elbowed him.

“Don’t insult the lady,” he hissed. “So, are your people allowed to mate outside of your species?” He flashed a toothy smile and Keith nearly gagged. He really wasn’t sure how he’d never suspected him of being interested in all genders if he could hit on someone with webbed fingers and rubbery green skin. Still it was kind of strange that Keith had never seen him hit on a male alien.

“We’ve never had the need to,” she answered. “Our pure lineage is very important for our survival. For instance, if our people mated with yours, imagine how small and deformed the children would be. No webbing, no color, no attractiveness for future mating.” She continued to walk and Keith snorted as he walked past a dumbstruck Lance.

“Should I write down your time of death?” he joked.

Lance shoved him back, causing Keith to lose his balance and he reached out to take hold of Lance’s jacket- only he had no jacket, he had his suit. His fingers hooked around his wrist as he fell back and the momentum had him rolling down a hill, thick overgrowth and large rocks jamming into him with each tumble.

When he finally stopped rolling, he tried to take a breath, only to get it knocked out of him when Lance crashed on top of him.

“You idiot!” he snarled.

“Aw, baby don’t be like that,” Lance groaned as he pulled himself up.

Keith shoved him back and scowled. “Not the time.”

“I wasn’t trying to push you down a hill!” Lance stood, and Keith pulled himself up, holding onto his arm.

“You two okay?” they heard Shiro call down.

“We’re good!” Lance called back. “Come on, if we grip the vines, we can haul ourselves back up to them.” It wasn’t that they’d fallen far. It was a steep slope, but short. The plants that grew there were slick and glossy, which made it hard to climb back without support. Lance gripped a vine and tugged, happy to find that it was sturdy. “Mullet, this is one of those times where we have to be friends.” He held out his hand and Keith took it grudgingly. “Okay I’ll help you get to the next vine, then you grab it and help me get to the one after. Yeah?”

“Let’s do it,” he sighed. Lance kept a firm grip on him, pulling him up then holding his weight as he moved up to get the next vine. Then it was Keith’s turn to hold on to Lance until he managed to climb high enough to reach the next.

Finally, they made it to their friends. Shiro helped Keith up while Hunk helped Lance. “So you have to be in trouble to work together?” Shiro questioned. “Are either of you hurt?”

They shook their heads and Lance blurted, “Yo, Princess, why didn’t you help us?”

“I would’ve but that one told me not to,” she said, gesturing at Shiro. Keith and Lance glared at him, but he didn’t even bother to pretend to be ashamed. “Come on,” she urged, continuing to walk and show them the world she was from.

Once the tour was over, having found nothing that would help in an attack against Galra, Keith was tired and sweaty after walking around with his suit the whole time, so when he got back, he went to take a long, hot shower.

He sat in the stall, letting the water relax his muscles, vaguely wondering if this would be what the rest of his life consisted of.

Would he never get to see the colors of the carnivals back on Earth? He’d never go to Moscow. Or Florence, Italy. He’d never seen the blue seas of Greece or the grandeur of the Great Wall of China. Granted, he had never really wanted to much before. But the option was there. And there was no one else like him in the rest of the universe. No one human. Everything was foreign and new, and Keith missed the comfort of familiarity. He missed the comfort of things he knew.

The warmth of the sun, the cold touch of rain, the smells of barbecue or popcorn, movies, stupid tabloid media about what chaos the Kardashians or Brangelina were causing this time. Out here, he knew nothing. He was out of the loop. He missed music. What new music was out now? What new singers? What concerts had been touring?

The water had run cold, and Keith hadn’t noticed until he heard the swish of the door to the communal showers opened. For a second, he thought it might be Lance, and that he’d try to convince Keith to allow a frisk in the showers for the rush of possibly getting caught.

Instead, he heard Shiro call his name. “You in here, Keith? No one’s seen you for a while.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m in here. Sorry, I…. I was falling asleep,” he lied. He nearly facepalmed. Who the heck falls asleep standing in a shower?

“Right,” Shiro said. Keith shut off the water, his body’s tension returning once the cold had tightened his muscles. He wrapped a towel around himself and walked out, shaking his hair like a dog. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look… tired. Sad.”

“Shiro, I’m fine. I’m naked here, so can you stop interrogating me and let me go to my room and sleep?” Shiro sighed and tired lines seemed to tighten his face.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Keith started walking away, and Shiro called after him, “You know you can talk to me, Keith. Right?”

Keith stopped for a second and sighed. “Yeah. Thanks.” Talking isn’t enough though, he thought. He continued to his room and leaned against the door as he sighed again. He had a hand over his eyes, trying to shake the homesick feeling that had overwhelmed and depressed him.

“Rough day?”

His eyes flew open and he staggered back against the door. “Jesus, Lance, what the heck are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?” he hissed. “What are you doing in my room?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Lance answered, lounging comfortably on the bed. “Seriously though, what’s with the face?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. He walked over to his small closet to get clothes, but he felt Lance’s hand wrap around his wrist and pull him back.

“Hey man. You know, I know we’re messing around and we don’t get along much outside of battle, but… there’s times that call for friendship too. Like this. Like you looking upset and….” He glanced at his wrist and spread his fingers out more. “Being so cold, I’m actually a little worried. What is it?”

“Nothing that talking can fix, Lance.” Lance kept staring at him, waiting, unfazed by Keith’s angry glare. Finally he looked away and shrugged. “I’m just homesick. Being out in space… it’s great, and I know that’s what I went to the Garrison for in the first place, but….”

“In the Garrison there was a chance to go back,” Lance finished.

Keith looked up at him and gulped. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We’re so far from Earth, not even the ships at the Garrison could have made it out here. What if we never go back? What if we die out here, in battle or by old age or asphyxiation if you hit the wrong button or venture out too far?” The memory of being sucked into space before Red deemed him worthy of being her pilot resurfaced. The gut pulling feeling of defeat, fear and acceptance of death, of endless floating until everything would go black with no one to even know where to find him.

Instead of answering, or reassuring him, Lance cocked his head and asked, “What do you miss?”

Keith bit his lip and thought for a moment. “I miss thunderstorms. I miss sunny days when I’d go running until I was drenched in sweat.”

“I miss decent food. Pizza and wings and soda,” Lance added.

“Or going to the movies or the carnival,” Keith mused.

“How about pets? I had a dog back home… with my family.” Lance smiled sadly.

“I miss music,” Keith said weakly, knowing that Lance had a bigger right to be homesick. He had no family. But Lance did. A large family that had been waiting for him. Keith wondered what they told them when he went missing.

“Music?” Lance repeated. “Well, you can make that anywhere,” he said. He took his hands and moved them back and forth in a sort of middle-school dance move. “You're just too good to be true. I can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much.” Keith looked away, rolling his eyes as Lance sang. Lance pulled Keith with him, swaying side to side as he provided his own instrumental in an off pitch, raspy voice. “Ta-na, ta-na, nan a-na-na ta-na-na ta-na, na-ah!”

“Lance, stop,” Keith laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up as Lance pulled him closer.

“I love you baby! And if it's quite all right, I need you baby to warm the lonely nights. I love you baby, trust in me when I say-” Lance sang happily. “Oh, pretty baby!”

“Lance!” Keith stumbled after him, laughing as Lance continued to pull him and sing playfully. He was aware that he was still in just a towel, but Lance seemed unfazed. Then he switched to another song, this one in Spanish, the crisp, fast words falling from his lips naturally in his enticing native tongue.

“Come on, you have to move your feet!” he chided playfully.

“I said I missed music, not dancing,” Keith answered, smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes then started singing, of all things, that cheesy British boyband song. “Baby you light up my world like nobody else!” Keith burst into laughter as Lance continued to provide music against his will. “The way that you flip that mullet gets me overwhelmed!” Keith couldn’t handle the pain in his stomach at the cheesiness of it all, and he threw his pillow at Lance.

Lance reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him in. “You’re an idiot,” Keith said good-naturedly.

“Well, it made you smile.” His own smile faltered, and he ran his hand up Keith’s arm. “You’re cold.”

“You’re warm,” he answered softly.

Lance placed his other hand on his chin, tilting Keith’s face up to him. He leaned down, and stopped as their noses brushed. “You mind?” Keith shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Lance leaned down, pressing his warm, almost hot, lips against Keith’s cold ones.

His hands snaked around Keith’s bare torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake, trails of warmth that spread through him. Keith gasped against his lips as his fingers dug into the small of his back, pulling him closer.

“Guess what?” he murmured. Keith hummed. “Pidge said she managed to set up the soundproof walls through the castle.”

“Oh,” he said weakly. Lance smiled against him and bit his lip. He was aware of the bulge rising under his towel. He was not okay with being the only one this vulnerable at the moment, so he pulled away and raised an eyebrow. Lance’s cocky smirk never faltered and Keith tugged his shirt up, disregarding it haphazardly on the floor. He unbuttoned his jeans, not bothering to be slow.

He wanted Lance as exposed as he was.

Lance kicked off his jeans, pressing kisses to Keith’s jawline. Once his jeans were discarded, he slipped his warm, long fingers under the towel where Keith had tucked it into place. “Can I?”

“You gonna ask before everything we do?”

“Hey, consent is important,” he said. Keith rolled his eyes and dropped his towel. It fell to their feet and Lance gulped. “Oh man,” he groaned, his voice hungry, deep, low. His hands pawed at Keith, urging him closer, and the bare skin contact sent flares through Keith’s body.

They’d done a few things, but being actually completely naked wasn’t one of them. There had always been some piece of clothing on them still.

“Hey, um. Pidge also gave me this.” Lance dug in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of some kind of gel. “She said, and I quote, ‘please don’t hurt yourselves, you hormonal idiots.’” Keith would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so utterly embarrassed about getting supplies from a fucking fourteen year old.

“How did she even-? What the hell?”

Lance shrugged. “She just showed up with it when she told me about the soundproofing.” Keith grumbled and hid his face in his hands. Lance laughed and pulled his hands away. “She already knew what we’re doing,” he said.

Keith cleared his throat and bit his lip. “So… that’s… for sex, right? We’re… gonna do that? Tonight?” Large hands squeezed his bottom and Keith pinched Lance’s arm. “Lance!”

“Well, I mean… if you want to. If not, we can wait. But I mean, we have a way to do it now, without it hurting.”

Keith stared at the bottle and contemplated. Lance nuzzled his neck and kissed along his jawline. “Can I… top?” Keith asked. Lance pulled back and frowned.

“Aw, I called that.”

“When did you call that?” Lance opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. “You can top the next time,” he said.

“Well, why can’t I top now, and you top next time?” Keith narrowed his eyes. “Alright, let’s rock-paper-scissor this.” Keith sighed and shook his head. “Hey, what is it?” Lance tilted Keith’s face up to him.

“I just… I don’t wanna feel weird again.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “If I bottom, I might feel like that again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Keith really wanted his towel back. Lance was close, focused on his face, his hands near Keith’s waist. But Keith still felt way too exposed. He scowled and crossed his arms. “Just… when we did that thing with face-fucking, I felt kind of off afterwards and it took a while to go away.”

“Off?” Lance questioned, looking worried.

Keith clenched his teeth, frustrated that he couldn’t explain it right, that he couldn’t put into words exactly what was wrong because he wasn’t hurt but he didn’t like the feeling either. “Just… weird. And I don’t want to feel like that the first time we do this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Keith hesitated and looked at Lance. “I don’t know. I was hurt. I just felt funny. Slow, and fuzzy.”

Lance hummed and bit his lip. “Was it kind of like… like you thought I’d still try telling you what to do?” Keith nodded. “Sort of weak? Like not tired weak, but… like not in charge. Submissive?” Keith shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like that too,” he said. “Whenever you tell me what to do and stuff. But then I just ask you to hold me or like when we tried the handcuff thing and you kept kissing my wrists. Did you feel better when I was helping you fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” he said, recalling the feeling of his fingers in his hair.

“I think you were still in a submissive mindset. And you don’t really like being submissive.” Lance ran his hands through Keith’s hair. “But being a bottom doesn’t mean you’re submissive. You could totally dominate. They’re called power-bottoms.”

Keith stared at Lance in silence for a moment, looking at him like he’d grown a second head. “How do you know this shit?” he exclaimed. Lance smirked. “Alright, fine. Let’s play for it.”

It took a few tries because Keith kept providing his choice of rock, paper, or scissors when Lance said “scissors,” but Lance always did it on the next beat. Finally when Lance explained that they’d choose on the beat he said, “go” for, they were able to get in synch.

Keith won, and Lance muttered something about cheating, but Keith shut him up with another kiss. He pushed him onto the bed and said, “Stop being a sore loser.”

Lance looked like he was going to challenge him so Keith covered his mouth and leaned down over him to pepper his chest with kisses, biting gently at each of Lance’s nipples. Lance’s hands settled on his thighs, caressing him slowly. He heard a whine that vibrated through his hand and smiled to himself, swirling his tongue as Lance squirmed and his grip tightened around Keith’s thighs.

He uncovered Lance’s mouth, sliding his hand down lightly, slowly, trailing every dip and curve of Lance’s warm body. Until he reached the familiar bulge begging to be freed from his briefs. He wrapped his hand around him, pumping his hand excruciatingly slow.

“You want me to stop?” he murmured against his throat.

Lance shook his head rapidly, moaning out, “No, no, don’t stop.” His hips bucked up into Keith’s hand, and although Keith usually refused him any self-indulgence, he figured he would let it slide this time. “We’re really doing this, huh?” Lance breathed shakily.

Keith ran his thumb over the head, making Lance bite his lip. “If you want to. It’s the next thing, and… our walls are soundproofed now.”

Lance took a deep breath, pressing further into the mattress. “I do, I want to, but….” Keith stopped, moving his hand away. And although Lance had been panting in approval, he seemed to relax more when Keith did. He wondered if not being able to top was really making Lance this uncomfortable and if they should just not do this after all.

“I… I kind of want to build up to it. It’s my first time, with a guy no less, and… I don’t want to just jump into fucking.”

“So… like going slow and being romantic,” Keith murmured, understanding the blush in his olive cheeks. He understood that in Lance. He was a guy run greatly by emotions, and there was value to things he did. Something this intimate… it deserved a little more care, even if the emotions weren’t exactly there. They could pretend. “Okay, yeah,” he said softly. “How then?”

Lance hesitated, linking his fingers behind his neck, pulling him down for a small kiss. Keith didn’t even have a chance to close his eyes before Lance had pulled away. “Come here,” he said, sitting up slightly. He pulled the covers out from under them, pulling it over Keith’s body as he held himself up. “Nice and toasty,” he whispered. He pulled Keith down into a kiss again, this time slower.

His lips pressed warmly against Keith’s, the pressure gentle as his lips encased Keith’s lower. It was a sweet kind of kiss. The kind that confused Keith even though the only thing currently separating them was Lance’s boxers.

Keith wanted to let Lance set his own pace, so he refrained from pushing his tongue to part his lips. His arms wrapped around him, his hands sliding into Keith’s hair in a sort of affectionate tousle.

It was a little strange. Keith didn’t really feel those type of affectionate, sweet things for Lance. So far, it had all been lust in the bedrooms. He didn’t know how to pretend it wasn’t. He still didn’t see Lance as more than a battle partner, a friend, a nuisance at times.

He wondered if Lance did see him as more. If maybe that was why he gave those confusing kisses and danced to make Keith smile and why he wanted this to be romantic. He wondered if this would all be a horrible idea, having sex with someone who liked you when you didn’t like them.

He pulled away and furrowed his eyebrows. He forced himself to open his eyes, to look at the expression on Lance’s face. At the moment it was inquisitive. His head tilted as he raised an eyebrow. Keith gulped, feeling his face go red. “I’m not trying to boost my ego or anything,” he breathed. “But… this… the whole being gentle and sweet and romantic… I mean….” He sighed and rolled over onto his side, facing Lance, painfully aware of how naked he was beneath the bedsheet. “Is this supposed to mean something?” he asked.

“Like what?” Lance asked, sincerely confused. “What do you mean?”

Keith bit his lip and shrugged. “You want it to be affectionate and… I don’t know I guess more intimate than just a hook up, you know? So…. I mean, is it supposed to mean something between… us? Do you want it to?”

“I still don’t understand what you’re asking. What do you want sex to mean?”

Keith wasn’t sure how to explain it, so he took a breath and tried to put it as blatantly as possible. “Look, you seem to be really good at this romance thing, and you want to be romantic with me even though it’s a friends-with-benefits thing, and you know, you mentioned that people usually start having… feelings so I just don’t want to do this if you have feelings and I don’t because that would be really… shitty for you….”

Lance stared at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Oh! No, no, no. Keith, I…. No. It’s not that I want it to be special or significant between us specifically. I don’t like you in that way. I just….” He shrugged. “I’ve thought of my first time. Granted, I always thought I’d be with a girl, but… I never really imagined the roughness, the obscenity. It was always more of a gentle kind of thing. Something that told my girl she was special, not just a one night stand. It’s the first time I go this far, I don’t want it to be rough. It’s like… being able to play out a fantasy. I want to still be able to say my first time was… gentle and affectionate, even if there were no feelings. It’s like… the little cuddles after the stuff we usually do. They don’t mean anything, they just… make you feel… not so dirty, you know?”

Keith frowned and looked away. “Does this make you feel dirty?”

“No,” he answered immediately. “Because you’re not using me, and I’m not using you. Not really. We’re friends, outside of this. We’re not just each other’s sex dolls. That’s why I sort of want it to be like this.” Keith took a breath, suddenly feeling under pressure. “Hey, it’s okay. Just be… slow and gentle. I won’t take it the wrong way.” He smiled and placed a hand on his chin again, pulling Keith into a kiss.

Keith melted into him, the fear of giving Lance the wrong idea or hurting his feelings dissolving. Laying side by side felt a little better. It kept Keith from being focused on raising his body up over him. Lance’s fingers splayed along his jawbone and neck, his hips pushing closer to him. He made soft contented sighs that encouraged Keith to wrap his arms around his torso. Warm, long legs tangled with his own and pulled him nearer, the kiss soft, sweet, comforting even.

Finally, Lance parted his lips, his tongue running lightly against Keith’s lips. Keith immediately pushed forward, practically demanding access to Lance’s mouth. Lance chuckled against him, his hand stroking Keith’s face. “Easy, tiger,” he whispered. Keith held back and followed Lance as the kiss built. It was too slow for someone as impatient as Keith, but if he was being allowed to top, he knew accommodating to Lance would be necessary.

He bit down gently on Lance’s lip, grazing his teeth, and Lance pulled Keith over him. While their hard-ons had gone down in the time they talked and slowed down, Keith could feel the warmth rushing to his groin again as he rubbed against Lance. He groaned softly, lifting his head. Lance placed small open-mouthed kisses to his jaw, and Keith bit back moan.

He dipped down to kiss Lance’s throat, placing sloppy kisses lower, and lower. He returned to the sensitive nubs and swirled his tongue, sucking, reminding himself to be gentle. Lance’s hands never left him. From his neck to his face to his hair as Keith shuffled lower and lower.

He placed his kisses along Lance’s warm, dark skin, following the subtle curves of what training was forming into a six-pack, slowly but surely. He allowed himself gentle bites that drew soft, husky moans from Lance. His chest was heaving as he tried to keep a grip on himself. Keith ran his tongue from Lance’s bellybutton to the place right where his briefs were beginning to grow tight.

Instead of touching him, Keith skipped the entire clothed area and pressed his lips against the inside of Lance’s thigh.

A soft, surprised, “Ah!” escaped Lance’s lips as he jerked up. Keith heard his soft, nervous laugh, intermingled with moans. Keith brushed his teeth along the hot skin, warm breath sending goosebumps to spread down Lance’s long legs. Then he bit down, and again, Lance jerked up and made a louder gasping sound. Keith splayed his fingers along his hips, curling around the fabric of his briefs. “Keith,” he breathed. “I know I said slow, but this is overdoing it, don’t you think?”

Keith smirked and placed a kiss against his other thigh. “I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered. Lance’s breath came out shakily, and Keith pulled his briefs lower, lower, lower, until he was upright and tugging them completely off. Lance shivered, the warmth of the covers gone.

Keith gripped the covers, pulling them over himself until they were over his head and against Lance’s chest. In the dark, Keith ran his hand over Lance’s groin, but was disappointed to find he was only half-hard. He pulled his hand away and leaned forward, brushing his lips along the base, breathing warm air against him. Lance shuddered and Keith noticed his legs spread a little wider.

Still, he refused to acknowledge Lance’s dick if it wasn’t nice and hard for him. Instead, he ran his tongue down to his thigh, hands gripping his hips. Lance had been the only one to do this yet, so Keith wasn’t sure what to expect.

He ran his tongue up Lance’s thigh and down to his hole. He could hear Lance’s muffled whimpers, but he knew he wasn’t fully hard yet. Then the image of Lance thrashing under him, moaning his name without bothering to stay quiet because the walls were fucking soundproof now… it made his own cock twitch. All he wanted was to make Lance feel good until he was screaming.

With that goal in mind, he didn’t even hesitate before he pushed his tongue into Lance’s entrance. Lance’s hips jerked and Keith worked his tongue in circles around him, prodding gently at the entrance. He pushed Lance’s legs so his feet were on the mattress. Using his hands, he spread his cheeks, squeezing gently. He was able to push his tongue through, feeling the muscle clench around him.

It should have been disgusting… but God, it wasn’t in the least. Not with Lance moaning his name the way he was. His hands raked through his hair, pulling gently, but Keith didn’t want gentle. He wanted Lance to thrash, and pull his hair because he was close, to buck his hips and bring Keith in deeper with no reserve. He wanted more.

He sucked gently and heard a strangled cry from above him. Leaving his hole, he kissed the smooth curve of his cheeks and bit gently. Lance was still too quiet. Keith pushed his hands over the smooth skin of his torso lightly, caressing him. He heard Lance sigh and felt him squirm. Then Keith raked his fingers down and Lance bucked up, shoving the blanket down as he spread his legs. With a smile, Keith shifted forward, letting out a warm breath against Lance’s member, happy to see it fully erected.

“Keith,” he choked. “Please. Please,” he sounded desperate, and it was a beautiful sound in Keith’s ears. It was music.

Indulging him, Keith kissed along the length until he reached the head, running his tongue over the slit slowly, tasting the sweet, salty taste of Lance. Lance’s legs tensed, his hands gripped Keith’s hair a little tighter.

Without any warning or build-up, Keith opened his mouth and took him in as far as he could and then some. His eyes watered, and he tried to push a little further down, because dammit, if Lance could push himself further after Keith’s dick hit the back of his throat, then so could Keith.

With his mouth completely around Lance, fighting off his gag reflex, he pushed his tongue along the warm, veiny side, feeling the pulse with his tongue. There was a hard yank of his hair and he moaned, pulling up a little. Sucking his cheeks in, Keith lowered himself down again, shutting his eyes. He wanted to see Lance.

He wanted to see the expression on his face, the way his eyes would be screwed shut, his head thrown back against the pillow, his mouth a perfect circle as he gasped and tried to quiet himself by biting his own lip. But he was under covers, and he was going to focus on making him feel good.

He pushed his tongue against him, struggling to attempt and swallow the amount of saliva that had built in his mouth. The movement made Lance groan. His thighs pushed together, pushing against Keith’s face, begging him not to pull away. Keith pulled up and flipped his hair out of his face. He fumbled with the covers until he could see Lance.

Keith had no idea the sight of himself with drool dribbling down his lips, tousled hair, and lidded eyes would make Lance whimper and curse under his breath as he tightened his thighs around him. Keith wrapped his hand around him, surprised to find his entire shaft was wet, hot, and so fucking hard.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice raspy from exhaustion and having overworked his mouth.

Lance nodded and his long fingers fumbled around his face until he was able to pull Keith closer and kiss him. Keith kissed him, taking his cues from Lance as he pumped his hand. He followed the trail of saliva and pre-come lower and lower until he found it had dripped down over his hole and onto the bed.

“I’ll deny I said it if you ever tell anyone, but you’re fucking hot when you’re like this.” Lance moaned and looked at him with bright blue eyes and eyebrows furrowed in want. Keith leaned down, biting his neck as his finger swirled around the rim of his entrance. He listened to Lance’s gasps come faster as Keith teased him. Just as they began to slow, Keith pushed a finger in with surprising ease. Lance gasped and his hand went to the nape of Keith’s neck, his legs wrapped around him, aiding himself in his attempts to lift his hips up against Keith’s finger.

“H-here,” Lance said, giving the bottle of clear gel to Keith with a shaky hand.

Keith nodded and uncapped it, putting a bit on his fingers. He found that a little went a long way, slicking up the entirety of Lance’s ass with what little he had planned to experiment with.

He pushed in two fingers slowly, Lance’s breaths turning shallow as his hands gripped to Keith desperately. He pushed to his first joint. He paused, letting Lance get accustomed to it. He pushed to the next joint, paused, then slid his fingers in down to the knuckle. The lube definitely made it easier, but considering how tight the fit for his fingers was, Keith knew he’d have to work him open more.

He licked and sucked at Lance’s throat, trailing his way up to his lips, swallowing his panting breaths.

“Keith,” he whined.

Keith pushed his fingers in a little rougher and spread them, pushing against the muscle that clenched, begging Keith’s fingers to push in harder, deeper. Lance jerked and pulled hard at the hair at the nape of his neck. Keith growled and arched back, getting a grip on himself before looking down at Lance, flustered and red faced, a coat of sweat glistening on his collar bone.

Sweet, holy fuck.

Without a word of warning, he pushed a third finger in and Lance moaned softly, trying to pull Keith into a kiss, but Keith wanted to see his face. He wanted to see those sounds tear out of his throat, wanted to watch as his chest heaved with his gasps and his face contorted into a look of desperation.

Keith shifted and was startled by the sound of Lance letting out a hoarse, needy shout, his hands wrapping around Keith’s arms as his eyes rolled back. “There,” he breathed. “Right there.” He pushed himself down onto Keith’s fingers.

He was entranced by the way Lance shuddered beneath him, licking his lips and letting his head fall to one side as he closed his eyes, rocking his hips, fucking himself on Keith’s fingers. His soft pants filling the room, the sound sending white hot jolts through Keith’s body.

He leaned down, kissing Lance’s neck roughly, biting, sucking, moaning against him.

Lance was whimpering. “K-Keith, a-ah. More, more,” he pleaded. “Please, baby I- augh!- want-”

Keith cut him off, pressing his lips to his as he thrust his fingers in deep in time with Lance rocking his hips down. “Me?” he breathed. “You want me?” Lance nodded wrapping his arm around Keith’s shoulder. Keith pulled his fingers out, lifting himself up with one hand, pulling Lance’s thigh up with the other. He aligned himself, fighting the instinct in him to just thrust forward and lose himself.

He kissed Lance gently, lips pressed against his jawline. “You’re sure? You want this? You’re okay with this?”

Lance chuckled and cupped his face. “You gonna ask every time?”

Keith smirked and licked his lips. “You’re the one that said consent was important.”

Lance smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure,” he whispered.

Their eyes remained locked together as Keith smile faded and he pressed forward slowly. He wasn’t in far, but my God it was amazing. The pressure around his cock, the warmth. Lance was biting down on his shoulder, Keith’s nails dug into his thigh as he thrust himself in completely. Lance let out a muffled yelp and Keith felt a ripple go through his body.

“A-ah, slow,” Lance whispered.

He pulled back and thrust in again, gasping in Lance’s ear. He was overwhelmed, he wanted more, he needed more. He was completely lost in the feeling of Lance clenching around him, legs spread for him, biting down on him like he needed this as much as Keith.

He hadn’t been aware of it, but it wasn’t long before he was pounding into Lance, quickly and relentlessly blind and deaf to everything except the amazing feeling coursing through him with each thrust.

Suddenly, he felt hands pushing him back, and his mind cleared enough to hear Lance’s soft whimpers, to realize his legs weren’t spread but trying to press together and push Keith away. That the sounds he was muffling in his shoulder weren’t screams of pleasure but sounds of pain and breaths asking him to, “Stop, stop, Keith, it hurts, stop.”

Guilt washed over him as he pulled out and caught his breath looking down at Lance worriedly. His eyes were watery, but he wasn’t crying. If he had, Keith didn’t think he could forgive himself. His cheeks were flushed and he was looking at Keith with a strange look.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice lower than he expected.

Lance gulped and shut his eyes. “It just… it stings a bit. I….” He sighed and put his hands on either side of Keith’s face. “Just don’t be so rough….”

Keith gulped and leaned down peppering him with kisses. “I’m sorry,” he murmured after each gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I know you wanted this to be gentle, I’m sorry.”

Lance wrapped his arms around him and caressed his back sweetly. “It’s okay, baby. Just go slower.” Keith nodded and pushed forward again slowly, tense as he reminded himself not to go fast. He rolled his hips into him slowly until he felt Lance jerk and moan, his legs spreading so Keith had better access.

Keith pulled out just as slowly and then back in, the blanket that was thrown carelessly over them sticking to him because of the sweat. He was careful to only rock his hips against Lance, the rest of him carefully still as he kissed him slowly, gently. He’d do better. He’d make him feel good.

He pulled Lance’s thigh higher and this time, just before he was down to the base, Lance gasped and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he moaned.

Keith pushed in until he was completely buried in him, and Lance let out a desperate mewl, his legs wrapping around Keith to keep him in. “There?” Keith asked. Lance nodded. “Okay baby, I’ve got it,” he murmured.

He pulled one of Lance’s arms away, interlocking their fingers, and kissing his hand before pressing it against the mattress. He thrust against him at a steady, slow pace, gritting his teeth with the effort it took to not start ramming into him again.

“F-faster, baby, oh God,” Lance moaned, using the heels of his feet to pull Keith into him faster. “I’m okay, Keith, just- ah!”

Keith pushed into him faster and wrapped a hand around the back of Lance’s sweaty neck, pulling him up into a kiss. Lance couldn’t stop gasping and hissing through clenched teeth. Keith wanted more. But he held back, because he couldn’t bear to see the pained look on Lance’s face again. Not when he could see this one, overcome with pleasure and something peaceful and needy all at once.

Suddenly, Keith was resting on the balls of his feet, holding Lance against him as Lance’s long legs bent on either side. His arms wrapped around Keith, burrowing his face in his neck. He was strong, and Keith could feel the flex of his biceps as he clung to him. Now the speed was up to Lance.

He lifted and lowered himself onto Keith struggling to find a proper position for his legs that would give him better control. Keith wrapped an arm around his torso and his other hand slid into the locks of his hair. His body was slick against him, both covered in sweat. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Keith murmured as Lance whimpered, rolling his hips to find that perfect spot. “I’ve got you,” he promised.

Suddenly Lance bit down on Keith’s neck, and Keith raked his hand down his smooth, dark back, gripping him tighter. Lance started pushing himself down quicker, wrapping himself around Keith tighter, his moans vibrating against Keith’s neck. Lance’s teeth bit down on his shoulder, and Keith threw his head back, wanting to be covered in his bitemarks and kisses. He was only aware of Lance as his desperate gasps turned into soft screams of pleasure and the way he arched his back as Keith raked his nails down his back and held on to a fistful of his hair.

Lance’s arms unhooked themselves and he grasped Keith’s face between his large, warm hands, pulling back enough to look at him. There was something in his eyes and Keith wasn’t sure what it was, but he couldn’t focus enough to figure it out. His mind was hazy, overwhelmed with primal desire for Lance. To hear him scream as he was pushed over the edge, to see him fall back in exhaustion.

Suddenly, Lance’s forehead was against his, his breaths warm against Keith’s face. Lance nudged their noses together, raking his fingers through Keith’s hair. “Touch me,” he whispered. “I’m so close, Keith, please.”

Keith nodded, and he started to lower his head, but Lance lifted his chin. “No. Look at me, okay?” Keith was too overwhelmed to argue. He kept his eyes locked on Lance as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, and pumped, lifting his hips to meet with Lance’s as he pushed down. His hands remained on Keith’s face, his eyes fluttering shut and open as he moved faster, moaned louder.

Keith leaned into him, kissing him holding onto him with a single arm wrapped around him. “You feel so good, Lance, you’re doing so well. Don’t hold back, baby, I want to hear you. I want to hear you.” The thrusts were sloppy, arrhythmic, and all the while, Lance wasn’t holding back.

Unable to help himself, Keith thrust up, bringing himself onto his knees. Lance’s legs wrapped around him until he was pressed against the bed again and Keith was pounding into him, running his thumb over the slit of his dick, a steady leak of pre come smearing onto Keith’s hand.

“Fuck,” he gasped, still not letting go of his face. “Keith, I’m- fuck I’m gonna- harder, harder, there- oh. Oh.” Keith felt his body shake, felt him clench around him, felt the warmth shooting between their torsos… heard his unrestrained shout as he arched his back and yanked Keith’s hair.

A few more relentless thrusts later with Lance holding onto him the way he was, clenching and pulling him in the way he was, and Keith was coming too. He realized belatedly he should’ve pulled out, and he did, but the thick, white substance was still coating him. Keith tried to lift himself, But Lance had his arms wrapped around him, refusing to let him move.

His chest was heaving, and he pulled Keith up to kiss him lazily, tiredly, sweetly. He was still shivering, and Keith kept his eyes on him as he pulled the covers over them. They were a mess, but it didn’t matter. Keith could only lay against his shoulder, tilting his head enough to kiss his throat. His grasp had relented, and Lance’s fingers intertwined with Keith’s.

“I don’t know if I can walk,” Lance chuckled. He winced as he shifted. “Everything hurts.”

“I’m sorry. You can stay,” he answered, his voice hoarse. “This can be an exception. It was our first time.” Lance nodded and kissed his forehead, relaxing as he wrapped an arm around Keith and turned over, holding him nearer.

“Go to sleep,” Lance chided, his own eyes heavy. He started weakly singing a soft song that Keith had never heard before, but it was enough to soothe him to the point of sleep.

Click Here for Ch. 4

#klance #laith #leith #keince #wtf with the last one guys cx #smut #voltron #weeee

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sunnybimbo · 7 years

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Read the chapter on ao3!

Prompt: Painfully Polite - (character) has very strong feelings about how one should behave, and they are even more mindful when they’re not at their best, talking through a sore throat, trying not to cough, attempting to stifle sneezes, etc.

Allura’s body jerked for the fifth time that morning, and Lance narrowed his eyes.

“Are you alright, Princess?”

The other conversations around the table halted almost immediately, but Allura just smiled brightly as she turned her head in his direction.

“I’m perfectly fine, Lance. Thank you.” She cleared her throat, and they could almost hear the phlegm shifting around.

Truth be told, she was miserable. Her head felt ridiculously heavy, like it’d been filled with water. Speaking of, her eyes twitched at every movement, heavy with tears that she would not allow to fall as her throat twinged with every breath. Despite how wet everything else was, her throat felt dangerously dry, like someone had left it out in the sun until it was a cracked, leathery mess.

Still, she wouldn’t allow her neatly built persona to topple over so easily just because of an illness. Breakfast was always something the team did together, and she was a sucker for tradition.

That, and princesses should show no weakness.

Lance raised a brow, but decided to let it go. Hunk opened his mouth to ask again, but Lance quickly interrupted and had him roped into a conversation about sand versus salt as a weapon with a figurative snap of his fingers.

Pidge, of course, cut in about how salt would be more painful, what with the chemical reactants with the blood.

“It would totally suck to get shot by, say, a laser, and then a bunch of salt comes pouring out of nowhere. All of your neurons would go on the fritz, I’m telling you!” She scowled. “Salt is no joke.”

“You would know.” Lance teased, and Pidge flicked a piece of food at him.

“Yeah, but sand. Not only is it uncomfortable, but it would be absolutely bananas to get out of a cut. Have you ever cut yourself on a shell on the beach or something and had to walk to get it cleaned?” Hunk shuddered, arms crossing around himself as his face morphed into dread. “I had to go to the hospital like twice for that!”

“But discomfort doesn’t mean much in the middle of a fight.” Keith cut in. “The salt will make it hurt more, like an added distraction. They’d probably have slowed reflexes, too.”

“Okay, but - and just hear me out - sand comes with a bunch of bacteria.” Lance said smugly. “They would totally be down for the count if they caught something.”

“Yeah, if. ” Pidge said. “There’s only a slight risk, if they have a suckish immune system. Plus it would take forever to get infected, not instantly in the middle of a fight.”

The four overlapped as they argued their point, breakfast nearly forgotten as they more or less crawled on top of the table to illustrate their points.

“Calm down, guys.” Shiro said exasperatedly as he stood, gathering his dishes.

“Wait! Which would you choose, Shiro?” Lance said, diving to cling onto their leader’s arm to stop him from leaving so suddenly.

“Yeah! Team Salt or Team Sand?”

Shiro looked up into the ceiling as he thought about the silly question. But he would humor them, if only to get them to drop the subject.

“Both.”

“Cheater!” Lance pouted as Shiro tugged away. Before they could squeeze a reason out of him, Shiro escaped to the kitchen.

“Nice job being the tiebreaker.” Keith muttered under his breath as he slumped into his seat, arms crossed.

“It sounds to me like the salt is the better choice, if you’d like my opinion.” Allura butted in, and the four heads turned simultaneously towards her.

“Traitor.” Lance whispered accusatorily.

Allura blinked back her blurred vision, pausing as she forced her lungs to settle when they twinged. Coughing was so unsanitary, especially in the middle of a meal.

“However, if you have a choice between the two, wouldn’t it be better for each of you to pair off and attack with both?” She added as an afterthought.

Pidge lifted a finger, as if to argue again, but her mouth hung open noiselessly.

Then she shrugged, “She’s right! I mean, assuming that we all get to choose before we go into this hypothetical battle.”

Soft, murmured agreements echoed around the table.

“Heck yeah! Teamwork!” Lance jumped up and lifted his hand for a high-five. Hunk followed quickly, and pulled Pidge in at the same time. They turned to Keith, who paused with his spork halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he lifted his hand to join the jumbled pile of fingers.

Then, they turned to Allura, who paused in the subtle massaging of her throat. She eyed them thoroughly, before standing and placing her hand in the circle above their head.

A few beats of silenced ticked, before Lance burst out in a grin and yelled out an excited, “Teamwork!” and dropped their hands.

“Teamwork!” The others echoed, a bit less enthusiastic. Allura followed a few beats behind, and much more subdued.

Heavily, she leaned back in her seat and her eyes fluttered shut. The conversation around her lulled, and it was only when it was completely silent that she opened her eyes again to regard them, straightening her spine like a steel rod.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Princess?” Hunk spoke up this time. “Tired, maybe?”

“No, no. I’m doing perfectly fine.” She said, though her voice sounded thick and just a tiny bit hoarse. “Please, continue on.”

“I dunno, Princess. You’re looking kind of red around the…” Lance gestured vaguely to her cheeks. “Tattoos? Birthmarks?”

Allura touched her cheek, and the heat radiating from them had her pulling her fingers back quickly.

She awkwardly cleared her throat, but a cough caught and her lungs struggled as she held it in. “I’m fine.” Allura repeated, slowly inhaling so that her nose wouldn’t honk, what with it being congested.

Coran chose that moment to walk in, and his reaction of pointing at her in horror and stumbling over his own words had everyone jumping out of their seat.

“Princess! I thought I ordered you to bed rest today.” He griped, flying over to fuss like a mother hen. “You’re much too sick.” He reprimanded.

“I knew it!” Lance shouted triumphantly. “Wait… she’s sick? ”

“A small case of the Paformium, I’m afraid.”

“The Paf-what?”

Coran continued over them, “Not to worry! It doesn’t easily spread.” He turned back to the Princess. “I do hope you weren’t talking excessively.”

“I only spoke -.”

“Ah! No words! Sore throats need rest.” He gathered her up along with the remainder of her breakfast. “Come, come. I’ll put you back to bed.”

She stumbled a bit on the stairs out of the room, but Coran was there to level her out and lifted his bicep for her to hold onto.

“Consider this a free day, paladins!” He called just before the door shut with a soft click.

The four looked at each other, expressions varying levels in confusion.

“I hope she’s going to be okay.” Hunk said finally, plopping back down in his seat.

Keith, Lance, and Pidge all nodded. Then, Lance stabbed his spork into Keith’s breakfast to steal a bit (seeing as he’d already cleaned his own plate) and the two broke off into an argument.

It echoed through the halls, loud enough to reach even Allura’s bedroom. She could make out the noises- or at least the vibrations- if she focused on them as she snuggled into her mountain of pillows and blankets.

It was strange to think of them as ‘defenders of the universe’, but they were a pretty good team. Her team.

Of course, they would need a strong leader to guide them. Not a sick one.

Before she drifted off to her dreams, where Altea was still thriving and her people were happy, she wrote a mental note to herself. Find some salt and sand, and a weapon to use them with.

Zarkon would never see it coming.

#voltron #allura #princess allura #voltron legendary defender #vld #jam writes #another sickfic for my friends

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ridleytheknight · 7 years

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Masks of the One’s We Love

Based off prompt by imyaslavie on tumblr! All my love to you darling!

In a happy fun celebration, what could you expect but personality changing aliens? The curious thing though... is through it Lance doesn't change at all...

---

Bright lights and pretty decorations, with loud laughter and the scent of amazing food. Everyone was laughing, smiling, and having fun. It was another battle well fought after all. What wasn’t there to be happy about? A fight for the good side won! Lance smiled, mingling around the room and spinning from person to person, passing out smiles, and flirts like candy. Making awful tasteless jokes so the tipsy people would laugh and the sober ones would roll their eyes and bit back a smirk. Basically, he had to act like the goofy charming person he always was. And he’d never felt more out of place. But, fake it til you make it he guessed. He had a responsibility to chat with everyone, try to impress them, strengthen ties and alliances with smooth comments, witty jokes, and reassurances. Reinforce their belief in them as Voltron. An unstoppable force fight for the good fight. Heroic knights. Ready for action twenty-four seven.

No time for even a relaxing break and celebration in war, he guessed.

So, he put on a show. Just like all those times in his school’s theater, as he played the lead. Even on the days he wanted nothing more than to just sleep instead of rehearsing until nearly three a.m. without dinner and no breaks. The party almost reminded him of those days, except his make up for the party was on fleek and well-practiced and he was being fed more than enough by these kind people. He smiled, flirted, and chatted with every new guest. Breaking away at times to greet a lonely wall flower to dance, or pulling himself into another group to chat and make sure no one was lonely or bored. Though sometimes he sought out a paladin to accompany for a little while, just for a little familiarity or a reminder of what to keep in the front of his mind, before he was peeled away to another group.

He was doing his job really well, all the paladins smiling knowingly when their gazes fell onto him, the charmer of the group. With a large stage presence and a bright light that seemed to draw everyone in towards him. Smiling and laughing effortlessly, hair fluttering and eyes shining as he flirted and joked around, keeping up discussions and the lightness. Like he always did, Keeping the mood cheery and happy was his specialty, just like acting. The few things he was good, almost a genius at. Just like his people skills, knowing just how to connect with people, what their tastes of attitude were. Which mask and personality to use to get the best reaction, which version of him they would like the most.

The blue paladin was in the middle of a conversation with a few of the locals in charge of the party, congratulating them on such a good turn out and even when he was waved over by Allura from her place on the side with Coran and seemingly a new guest standing in between them comfortably. Lance bowed his head and excused himself before waltzing over to the princess with a wide grin. The new person was a female, he could tell, with light grey almost silver skin and light platinum colored hair, one of the other races of aliens that inhabited this plant was his guess. He stopped in front of her, gracefully bowing at the waist and gently grabbing her hand. Kissing the knuckles of her right hand with a gentlemanly butterfly touch before looking up with a wink and a sly grin to contradict the politeness with some flirty playfulness.

“How may I be of assistance to this lovely lady before my eyes?” Allura rolled her eyes as most of his attention stayed on her. Knowing by now that this was just how Lance acted and was as a person, he was a flirty jokester, but didn’t mean anything really by it. Just thriving with the fun and playful attention, the praise. Usually getting a little bashful when someone he had jokingly hit on actually flirted back. Though, Allura wouldn’t put it past him to gloss over the shock and smoothly retort back, he was resilient and adaptable. The princess had learned by now that it was just for some attention, and maybe to have someone to joke around with, learning just how to jokingly brush it off. Occasionally indulging him by sassing back, as when she did it always made Lance’s infectious grin only grow wider as she played along. It made the occasional playing worth the small reality break.

“Lance, this ‘lovely lady’ as you so eloquently put,” Lance clicked his tongue and sent a wink her way with finger guns. “Is known as Elstra. Elstra?”

The woman laughed brightly, the sound was high and bright like bells, matching the up-beat energy of the party well, “Oh my, what a flattering young man the blue paladin is. You told me he was a charmer, but you didn’t tell me he was handsome too Allura. Well, Lance the blue paladin, I am Elstra, me and my people are inhabitants of this planet as well and we wanted to come by and thank you for your service, as well as give you a small gift.” Allura smothered a smile as the woman handed him a seemingly innocent looking drink. This alien race Allura knew, was well known for their small pranks of changing or intensifying one’s emotions and personality. Only temporarily of course, and perfectly harmless. Allura would be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in seeing how Lance reacted with another’s pranks, and the change in mood and chemical balance. It would certainly be something to remember, no matter what the tall woman chose to do. Either way, Allura saw Lance glowing with the praise and gift. Like a giddy child on Christmas. Accepting the gift happily after her and Coran’s permission.

“Thank you m’lady.” The ever spirited and polite paladin smiled easier than he had all night, drinking the gift and giving another strained but convincing smile that was forced at first. His fatigue was beginning to wear on him, no matter how good the praise made him feel temporarily. It felt like he was weighed down with lead and a dark cloud over his head, until just a few moments later.

Man, Lance swore it was like a shot of pure happiness ripping through him. Clearing the dark clouds and almost making him feel like he was floating, instead of sinking. It was like adrenaline and morphine and everything good was running through his veins on all at once. A lazily and happy grin lit up his face as he began giggling uncontrollably. He was so light! Maybe this is what people called a high? No, it wasn’t drugs he didn’t think. It was like he was suddenly stoned on life. And he’d never felt better. Even as his cheeks began to hurt with how wide his grin was. He gave his thanks to Elstra one last time before smoothing his hair back with a single hand and going straight for a handsome alien guy that he’d been eyeing nervously for the entire party almost. His confidence skyrocketing to impossible levels as he put on an even brighter and more charming beaming smile, courageously giving a terrible pick up line that kick started a conversation of flirty quips and small passive gestures.

Shiro looks at the suddenly even more lively blue paladin and smiles knowingly, shaking his head with a small chuckle as he slowly strolls up to Allura and Elstra as the other paladins slowly joining as they saw Lance light up like a Christmas tree on steroids. Looking even more lively if possible, a humming and happy energy practically glowing around him brighter than before, more magnetic. Shiro gives a small half smile and jokingly scolds her.

“I didn’t think he needed an amplification drink ma’am, do you know how hard it’s going to be to drag him away from the party now that he’s got nearly double the energy and flirting will force? He’s going to be rambling our ears off the entire way.” The jab at Lance’s behaviors was reassured to be a joke as Shiro gave a fond smile to the Cuban male. Elstra was also staring at the tan boy, only instead of fond smiles and playfully rolling eyes she had a small frown. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern as she watches the blue paladin teasingly swing his hips, pure joy and frisky intentions as he gladly lets the good looking alien pull him to the impromptu dance floor. Still within their sight, even as he was swarmed by more people, attracted to and wanting to dance with the bubbly brunet. More than willing to give anyone and everyone attention as he still stayed by the side of his first affections. Elstra tilts her head and slowly curls it towards Allura and Shiro in a strange, but elegant swooping motion, still shooting worried glances at Lance.

“I… I’d thought I gave him a personality changing vial…” Elstra rummaged through her small hand bag, fingers twitching anxiously as she found the vial and quickly read the label on the clear glass vial. “Yes, this is it. This one changes a person’s natural behaviors diametrically. I’d know the label anywhere, I use it often enough.”

Shiro looked back at Lance, moving back to the conversation after a moment of examination of the blue eyes brunet. “Are you sure you didn’t switch the liquid you put in the vials? I mean absolutely no offence by this of course miss, I’m just confused. Lance is acting like he always does, bad jokes and all.” Shiro ended with a nervous chuckle.

Elstra frowned, “No… I remember breaking the seal when we arrived here… I couldn’t open it when we were flying here. Too much motion, I was afraid of spilling it. I had to borrow a knife from the red paladin to break the seal, did I not?” Keith nodded at the silent question, affirming that he did in fact crack open the vial. “This is the real one that I gave him.”

Hunk piped in this time, “But, if this is the opposite of his nature, then how would he normally feel and be like in your experience, as you said before that you’ve used this often.” Hunk could handle the other paladin maybe forcing a few smiles or jokes when he was feeling scared or homesick for the others sake. He was selfless and caring like that. Hunk could understand feeling doubtful, Lance wasn’t always confident with his English or academics. Or how he was always a little off put when someone actually flirted back. Maybe, this whole business was just nothing. Maybe Lance was having a day when he was feeling tired and worn out from the battles, no one said this life was easy. Maybe he was just forcing a few things or changing a few things to get some of his confidence and playfulness back. He couldn’t adjust like he had in the Garrisons, calling home when he was feeling homesick from a huge boisterous family. It was bad circumstances, right? A fluke. Still, Hunk wasn’t liking the pit that was sinking in his stomach.

Elstra seemed to droop and dim a little, looking vaguely uncomfortable and anxious as her eyes darted from them to Lance periodically. “Um, well, from what I’ve seen with others I’d say others who reacted like this were often… well… um. Severely depressed. Usually suffering from various self-esteem, doubt, or self-hatred issues…” The woman quickly put her hands up in mock surrender at the terror on the paladins faces. “Though that doesn’t speak for everyone! I could react differently in humans than it does on the people on this planet. It could act as an amplifier as you previously concluded, would you like to try it on someone else just in case? I do have a spare…” Allura nodded quickly, she didn’t like to assume anything after all. It acting differently in humans however, she knew that she was grasping at straws and trying to pull from this woman’s naivete about human’s systems and minds, when really Allura knew that they were practically the same in function. But, if it meant she wasn’t failing one of her paladins so horribly as to not notice one breaking inside every day, one that she especially looked to be one of the happiest of the group, she would grab at every straw she could.

Pidge volunteered immediately, holding out her hand as Elstra gave her a vial. Pidge saw Lance as her pillar, he’d been her friend for so long. He’d supported her, made her smile, or groan, or let her vent her anger and stress unfairly on him. She’d do anything to make sure he was really okay, even this, which if it was nothing but an amplifier, would probably make her anxiety and introverted nature a hundred times worse, Pidge knew she’d be the easiest to tell if it was opposite. As she’d likely become more polite and physically clingy, less vulgar. Pidge watched with a passive determination as Keith cracked open the vial with his knife and practically shoved it into her hands. Secretly anxious to see the results, as Pidge took the vial like a shot, downing it in seconds. It took a moment, but when the switch happened, it was obvious to everyone in the vicinity. Pidge’s normal look of neutral and cold calculation smoothed over into a relaxed expression. A lazy smile stretching on her lips like a grin. Patting Keith on the shoulder as a thank you, surprised the red paladin almost out of his skin at the gratitude. Then she waddled over to Hunk and clung onto Hunk’s arm, giggling and laughing. Babbling happily about some science thing that she’d been doing in her free time and that no one besides Hunk really understood.

The unaffected paladins each froze. Each looking at each other in looks of various shock and horror before blatantly staring at Lance. Happily laughing and dancing with everyone that came toward the magnetic presence. Conversing and interacting with an extra skip in his step. No, not extra. It was a lie, wasn’t it? All those times he told a self-deprecating joke that they brushed off as his strange brand of humor. All the stories and times they told him to be quiet. The times he’d laughed and smiled at them, trying to break the ice, lighten the mood, and make them all feel better. Grinning as they lashed out at him. Him telling them it was fine when they apologized. That he could understand that they were having a rough time.

All lies.

Fucking lies!

He wasn’t happy. There wasn’t anything funny about those jokes poking fun at his intelligence or attitude. The times he ‘jokingly’ called himself stupid, or a little shit. He wasn’t ‘fine’, like he always claimed to be. He was suffering. Just as much as they were. Maybe even worse. Because where they knew each other well, not one of them knew Lance behind the smiling mask. The one that was once convincing, now horrifying as they saw the truth in it. The way the mask took his sadness and stretch it into a strained and bleeding, hollow smile. Hiding his tears and pain. He wasn’t fine.

But at the moment, all they could do was nothing. Absolutely nothing, but watch as he laughed happily at some alien’s stupid joke. His shoulder’s straight and head held high. Unburdened and relaxed, without a façade of confidence and happiness. Like they always thought was true and real for every moment of the day. That mask of his, was the true horror of it all. It was a second, skin-like things, that none of them had seen past for months, some of them years. How could they have seen past such a dopey grin, the one that encouraged them to smile along no matter what. The insufferable flirting and loud obnoxious stories that carried in his voice through the castle walls, filling the void of space’s silence. They hadn’t known. Until now, as Allura was crushed, Coran devastated, Keith in silent shock, Shiro in disbelief, Hunk, disturbed at how his best friend knew all his insecurities and sufferings so well, and he couldn’t even return the favor. Not even knowing a single one of the horrors that haunted Lance every day. They saw him. Everyday. Lived with him. Everyday. Anyone would argue that they should have known him the best. Seen past the stupid, lying, happy mask. But really,

They swear they hadn’t known.

#langst #lance mcclain #voltron lance #vld lance #clinical depression

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