Maybe, thinks Keith, there is some version of reality where things aren’t like this, where there is a rebellion to overthrow Altean rule. Maybe in some version of reality, he’s a hero instead of a mutt who went on a mission and not only failed to change anything, but failed to dispose of any liabilities (in this case, himself).
The queen, Allura, sits on her throne with perfect posture and a small frown. He’s on his knees, wrists and ankles shackled.
“There’s no need for this,” she assures the guards on either side of them.
“But your majesty, he’s dangerous. He single-handedly destroyed one of our Quintessence facilities, he nearly defeated the Champion. We can not risk--”
“I know what he’s done, and I said there’s no need. Remove his shackles,” the queen insists, her tone growing colder.
The guard withers, but the shackles are deactivated, and Keith gets to his feet, staring the Altean queen defiantly in the eyes.
“Tell me how you did it,” she says.
Keith tilts his head back, drawing himself up to his full height. He doesn’t answer her. She frowns at him, tapping her fingers on her dias.
“No harm will come to you, little one. I swear it on my father’s grave. I simply wish to understand what you did.”
He snorts this time.
Her gaze goes icy.
“Throw him back in the ring. Let us see if he can do it again.”
Keith, half-human, half-Altean, stands in the middle of the gladiator ring. The roar of the crowd is deafening as the wait for the much-anticipated rematch. They came here expecting blood. The first time Keith was thrown into this ring, he was expecting blood as well. He thought he would have to kill to survive, and his stomach had been sick with the concept.
This time, when they had offered him his choice of weapon, he had refused. When they had offered him armour, he had refused. He stands in the ring, dressed in nothing but a bright red shift and black belt, gold and red painted onto his skin, a decorated creature, prettied for the slaughter.
The announcer is speaking, voice echoing through the building, bouncing off the walls, but Keith is staring straight ahead, waiting.
The other gate opens, and out steps their Champion, dressed in black and gold armour, painted from head to toe, adorned with jewelry, and though the hulking prosthetic right arm is a weapon in and of itself, he also holds an equally large and glowing sword. The roaring sound of cheers is deafening. The light are blinding.
They lock eyes, and the Champion falls to his knees.
“Keith,” he breathes.
“Shiro,” says Keith.
The roars of the crowd grow louder. Shiro stands back up, raising his weapon, and despite the cold fear in Keith’s gut, he stands still. Even if he could kill Shiro, he never would.
Shiro throws his blade across the arena where it sticks into a wall, sending a large crack along the stone. He opens his mouth, but the gathered Alteans are screaming, now. They want blood. They want to see Keith die at the hand of their Champion. He tries to speak, but the words are drowned out by the cacophony of sound. The gates open, guards marching towards them.
Seemingly in the same moment, they both burst into movement, reaching for each other. Just as Keith’s hands brush Shiro’s shoulder, he feels a shock of pain blitz through his body.
He screams, ears ringing. As he collapses to the ground, as guards grab Shiro by his arms and pull him away, he can only see the shape of Shiro’s mouth: Keith! Keith!!
He comes to in a room, ornate with cushions strewn about made from expensive silks and cottons. There’s an empty platter with the remains of some kind of meat abandoned as well as a few slices of cheese. The floor is made of gleaming white tile, immaculately clean, but there’s a rug, tan, under the table where the abandoned food sits, and there is a giant blood stain easily visible on it.
Keith’s stomach turns.
The stain doesn’t look fresh, but it’s not faded either, and all he can think is that it’s impossible to tell what these aliens will do, what kind of airs they’ll put on. For all he knows, he’s been brought here to be tortured.
He pushes himself to his feet and groans softly. His whole body aches, but he still pushes himself to his feet, surprised to find that he’s not chained up. A quick look around, and he spots the door. It’s large, looks heavy, with a golden gate, and iron doors behind, but there’s no windows. It’s the only way in, and the only way out.
He takes a step, legs wobbling, and makes a wounded noise as pain shoots through him. Fuck. He’s in no condition to be making an escape, but he’s also not sure if he’ll have another chance. He takes two more steps before his legs give out and he collapses.
When he next open his eyes, vision blurry and exhausted, he can hear a voice: “Keith! Keith, wake up! Oh, fuck. Keith, don’t-- Look, just open your eyes. Hey. Hey, it’s me. It’s Shiro. Keith--”
“Shiro,” he slurs and then there’s crushing weight and warmth all around him, laughter in his ear. He groans his discomfort.
“Sorry-- Shit, god, I thought-- I thought you were dead. I thought--”
“Ungh,” Keith answers. He feels pretty dead.
“I thought if I didn’t kill you, they would, but I couldn’t--”
Keith peels an eye open. It’s a mistake. Everything is so bright, and Shiro is so beautiful.
“What?” he croaks.
Shiro doesn’t get a chance to say anything more, because the doors are opening, and the queen is walking in, guards flanking her as she makes her way into the room, her expression drawn and thoughtful.
“Well now,” she remarks, drinking in the sight before her: her Champion, her killing machine, her merciless monster, cradling some mutt to his chest with an expression of open concern. “This is interesting.”
She strides closer and grabs a chain. She yanks and Shiro snarls, clinging to Keith, only to let go when a shock of bright blue magic goes through his body. He shouts, body going tense and then limp. Keith barely catches himself before his head hits the tile.
“This is not what I was expecting at all, I must admit,” says queen Allura. She crouches before Keith, hand still tight around what Keith is realizing is Shiro’s leash, a heavy gold collar around his throat. “Did you know he cut down 5 of my guards trying to get to you? I wonder what else my Champion would do to keep you safe.”
She pulls out a knife and presses it to Keith’s throat.
“No!” Shiro roars, but when he tenses to lunge, she presses the knife tight enough to the skin to break it.
“Now, now,” she says. “Shall we discuss terms?”
Shiro hates himself a little, because he’s watching Keith suck down queen Allura’s ovipositor, and all he can think about is how pretty he looks with his mouth wrapped around something.
The queen is still holding his leash, legs spread where she’s sitting, a pleased look on her face, a flush on her cheeks. He’s not sure if she actually wants them or if she just wants to see what will happen, just wants to test out this new side of him, but it doesn’t matter.
Keith is touching her, and he keeps making little noises because Shiro’s two knuckles deep in his ass. He wants to say he’s sorry, but he can’t risk the vulnerability, and Keith keeps… arching towards him, making these noises , and fuck, if they have to do this to stay safe, Shiro at least wants to make it good for him.
It looks like it’s good for him.
He groans again, louder this time and Shiro has to breathe out slowly to ignore the arousal throbbing through his own body.
Allura, however, looks up from where she’s petting Keith’s hair and smirks.
“I’m surprised you’ve resisted for so long, pet. Don’t you want him?”
He wants to lie, wants to do anything to save Keith from more pain, but he also doesn’t want another shock, and he has no doubt that the queen will give him one if she doesn’t get the answer she wants. The most he can do is be gentle and hope he doesn’t wear out her patience.
“Yes, my queen,” he murmurs instead.
“Then take what you want,” she breathes and his heart lurches in his chest. She wants to see more, but… he’s not ready. He can’t take it. He makes a noise, trying to think of a way to stall, and then he’s pressing his face into Keith’s ass. Keith moans, obscene and loud and then queen gasps in reply, spreading her legs wider, slick leaking from her.
“Oh…” she says. “Oh, yes. Mmm, that’s perfect.”
Keith is arching towards him again, more eagerly this time, and Shiro can see his own ovipositor and receiver are leaking, dribbling slick all over the tile floor. Shiro resists the ridiculous urge to put his face down on the floor and lick it all up. Instead, he pushes his tongue into Keith’s ass, still finger fucking him, stretching him open a little less gently now.
For a while, there’s nothing but the sounds of their bodies, the slick of Shiro’s tongue and queen Allura’s ovipositor pushing in and out of Keith’s throat. She’s got a hand in his hair, thrusting into his throat while he struggles to just take it. She’s looking at Shiro when he straightens up and squeezes his straining cock, giving it a few slow strokes.
She keeps her eyes locked on his, and he doesn’t dare to look away as he slowly breaches Keith’s ass. He can’t stop his mouth from falling open in ecstasy, can’t stop the flush of pleasure or the quiet moan of Keith’s name.
Allura was clearly expecting something different from this. She’s watching him disappear inside of the rebel mutt, watching his hand on Keith’s hip, waiting for the grip to grow bruising, but he keeps up the same slow pace, fucking into Keith’s hole slowly before drawing back out carefully and pushing back in just as carefully.
Suddenly, Keith pops off with a high-pitched whine. “Shiro, stop teasing ,” he begs, looking over his shoulder at Shiro.
Shiro feels like he’s been punched in the gut when he’s suddenly exposed to the open want on Keith’s face. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, his pupils blown, and his lips are pink and puffy from Allura fucking into him.
“Please,” Keith gasps when Shiro pushes in a little harder. “ Please .”
Shiro groans, and then his grip on Keith’s hips tightens as he picks up his pace. Keith whimpers, eyes rolling back. He dives back onto Allura’s ovipositor, sucking feverishly and she gasps.
“ Oh ,” she manages. “Oh, yes. That’s it, little mutt. Is this what you wanted? Did you want my Champion to give you pleasure? I bet you’re wishing I was another version of him, wishing he could fill you on both ends.” Keith twitches and tightens around Shiro, moaning softly. Shiro knows it’s true. He’s not sure what to do with that information.
“You don’t want him to be gentle with you,” Allura coos. “You want him to use you for his pleasure. Is that why you were docile with me? Because you like that I take my fill?” She fucks into his mouth as she says this, and Keith tightens again, dripping fresh slick all over the floor.
“Oh, fuck,” Shiro gasps. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, Keith. Keith, baby, you’re so--” His words are cut off in a choked gasp as his pleasure overwhelms him.
He comes so hard that his vision blurs. He grabs for Keith’s ovipositor, stroking it mercilessly until he comes, too, keening, eggs dropping uselessly to the ground, skittering across the tiles. Keith chokes, popping off of Allura only for her to yank Shiro in by his leash.
“Finish me, Champion,” she says, and he can do nothing but obey, swallowing her down, and soon after, swallowing her eggs down, feeling them slide slickly down his throat along with the copious amount of slick that spills out to ease the way.
He’s teary-eyed, swallowing repeatedly by the time he pops off.
The queen looks down at them, smirking, slumped and sated. She yanks Shiro a little closer.
“My, my,” she purrs. “We shall have to try this again.”