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Fuck this , Lance thinks as he shoves yet another set of sheets into the apartment complex washer, scowling deeply as he fits a couple dollars into the slot to start it up. He takes a step back, watches blue fabric swirl around inside the water as the machine sets to work. 

The thing is, some logical part of himself recognizes that it probably isn’t normal to have this be such a persistent problem at his age. It’s an inconvenience at best, and a mortifying secret to have exposed at worst. He could probably go to a doctor about it, get something prescribed. He just isn’t sure he could bring himself to say it out loud, to admit what’s happening and how long it’s been happening for.

He’s let it go on too long at this point, he’s come to accept it as a natural part of his life.

Even at twenty-five. 

Even when it costs him twenty bucks a week in laundry out of his already limited budget. 

Even when he hardly owns a single pair of underwear that aren’t stained with cum.

Okay, fuck, it gets a little bit annoying, he won’t lie. 

There was a time, when he was a very horny lonely sixteen year old who had just moved to America and wanted nothing more than to fit in and feel loved… when this was the very best thing to ever happen to him. The first time he had a wet dream and woke up covered in his own jizz, he’d practically fist-pumped the air and cheered in excitement. 

Who needs to lose their virginity at a socially-expected age when you can fall asleep and experience it any way you want it to happen? 

Who needs to risk constant rejection and have their heart broken time and time again when you can pass out and find immediate affection in your dreams? 

Who needs to address their terrifying sexuality crisis when you can just take a nap and get fucking rawed by the hottest guy you can dream up? No commitment, no coming out, no biphobia.

Anyway, at first it was a blessing. Then it kept happening. And listen, Lance has a high sex drive, he knows and loves that about himself… but seven nights a week? As a scrawny freckle-faced kid, he could only keep up with hiding dirty underwear and volunteering to do his own laundry for so long before his mother caught on and gave him the most embarrassing sex talk of his life. Inevitably, his siblings also found out and then teased him relentlessly for years to come. And, as he started to make friends, they would invite him over for sleepovers only for him to stay up the whole night every time in fear of what might happen if he fell asleep. 

University was… rough. Lance tried his best to hide it for as long as he could, but eventually he woke up one morning mid-orgasm and in his blind ecstasy made eye contact with his roommate on the other side of the room. Apparently, he’d been extra loud that dream, had woken poor James up.

James requested a room switch. Understandably, Lance supposes.

That was a blessing in disguise anyway, given that Lance’s new roommate ended up being the nicest person he’d ever met in his life. Hunk quickly became Lance’s very best friend, and by extension so did Hunk’s other best friend Pidge, and they became an inseparable trio. And yeah, eventually Hunk caught on to what was happening, but he was surprisingly chill about it. Even offered to start sleeping with ear plugs in if Lance was embarrassed about him overhearing his noises.

Lance had graduated, gotten his bachelor of arts, found a steady job, and is now living alone in a bachelor apartment where he can be as loud and sticky as he wanted in his sleep. Or, as he doesn't want, as is often the case lately.

See, Lance isn’t a horny lonely virgin anymore. He is hot, successful as far as he's concerned, and he had his fair share of partners throughout his years in university. Male and female. Hell, there was a time in his sluttiest phase where he’d been hooking up with at least three different people a week. Even then, the dreams had persisted. Maybe not every single night, but more often than not, Lance could expect to wake up uncomfortably sticky.

More than once, he's debated calling up the doctor’s office. They could probably give him the equivalent to anti-viagra, make him a less horny soul. Sure, it might suck when he ends up in bed with someone and can’t get it up, but that is just one of the many pros and cons he’s weighed countless times over the years.

No, that isn’t the dealbreaker that always has him hanging up the phone before the receptionist can ever pick up the call. That isn’t the reason he begrudgingly forks over the money time after time for laundry.

As absolutely insane as it sounded… Lance is sort-of… in love? With the star of his wet dreams?

The man’s name is Keith. Lance must have come up with it in his subconscious, because he would never consciously decide to name his ultimate sexual fantasy “Keith” of all things, and yet here they are. 

His name is Keith and he’s a fucking god. There’s no way to simplify it, no way to dismiss it for anything less than it is, the guy is just beyond human. He’s got the palest, smoothest, creamiest skin that Lance could spend years sucking marks into and rubbing his hands across. Dark, inky black hair that falls around his shoulders when it’s down, or forms the cutest little bunny-tail when it’s tied up with an elastic, and feels so fucking good to tug on. Strong jaw, the most kissable pink lips you’ve ever seen, beautiful high cheekbones, thick defined eyebrows, a cute little button nose, and eyes that look like galaxies .

And, in the name of providing an accurate description, Lance can’t forget about his body. Keith’s built like a powerhouse, defined pecs and abs, his biceps practically bulge underneath his clothes (not that he wears them often in these dreams). He has thick thighs that could choke Lance out easily (he knows, he’s tried it), an ass that doesn’t fucking quit, bubbly and round (perfect to bury your face into), and his dick is huge , maybe unrealistically and inhumanly so (sixteen year old Lance had high expectations, okay?). It’s got dark veins visible along the underside of the shaft, is uncut, and barely fits in Lance’s mouth without hitting the back of his throat. Damn, that dick is a thing of wonder.

Perhaps in the beginning those were the only descriptions Lance could offer up about Keith, but it’s been a decade nearly and he’s learnt some more over the years. 

Keith prefers to top, Lance is pretty sure, or maybe that just means that Lance’s subconscious prefers to bottom. Whatever. The point is, Keith always seems to be most in his element when he’s on top of Lance, guiding that massive cock inside of his tight hole with practiced familiarity. He bites his lip all sexy, pushes his hair back over his shoulder, squeezes his eyes tightly shut to savor the moment. Keith likes topping. It’s obvious.

Keith is sort-of… awkward? As far as an all-knowing sex-personified being goes? He doesn’t always read Lance’s cues, sometimes has to stop and ask if he’s actually into something, or switch angles a few times before it’s actually comfortable and satisfying for both of them. Sometimes, when Lance requests something particularly out there and kinky, Keith flounders and blushes like a schoolgirl. And, every single time they finish, if Lance doesn’t immediately wake up… Keith never knows what to do with himself. He just sort of sits there, eyes wide and uncertain, as Lance cuddles up to him and basks in the afterglow (this doesn’t get to happen nearly as often as Lance would like, normally his orgasms wake him up).

And, possibly most important, Keith cares about Lance. There’s more to it than rough, primal, sex just for the sake of getting off. There’s a reason Lance’s wet dreams have featured Keith since he was sixteen and never another. Even when Lance was in a relationship, it was always Keith in his dreams. Maybe he’s just a hopeless romantic, imagining what he so desperately wants, but there is love behind everything they do together. Keith always seems happy to see Lance at the start of every dream, and despite all the hassle it causes, Lance is always happy when he realizes he’s dreaming again too.

Anyway, when you dream about someone almost every night for a decade, you start to feel like you really know them. Like they’re real. Like you could maybe, possibly... be in love with them. 

--

The thing about falling in love with someone you can’t have how you really want to, is that it never ends in anything less than tragedy. Every year Lance feels the itch of desire for something more grow stronger, feels himself trying desperately to distance from the fantasy in his head and feel that strongly for any real man or woman. He’s tired. He’s ready to settle down. 

Your dreams might be a decent substitute for a few things, but they aren’t a substitute for forever.

--

It’s an honest accident the first time it happens. The second and third times, which happen almost immediately afterward, are less than accidents.

“Don’t stop, just like that, fuck, Keith!” Lance cries out, wet tears sliding down his cheeks from the brutal pace they’re setting. The bed rocks beneath them and Lance can’t even reach out to steady himself, his hands bound tightly behind his back. It’s all he can do to arch his back into it, rock back against each of Keith’s punishing thrusts inside of him. 

Keith has a grip around the nape of his neck, pushing his face down into the pillows.

“What was that?” He practically growls the words and it sends a shiver down the length of Lance’s spine where it’s bent so prettily against Keith’s chest. Lance whimpers, his cock giving a pathetic twitch, desperate to come but straining against the cock ring slipped around the base.

“D-Daddy.” Lance croaks out, voice breaking around a wet hiccup. He turns his head to the side, gasping for breath, blue eyes blown out with lust as they look back over his shoulder. Keith looks so powerful braced overtop him, fucking him from behind with that devilish smirk that says he’s enjoying himself far too much. Lance smiles up at him. “Don’t stop, daddy.”

Keith’s harsh grip around his neck relents then, replaced almost immediately by the harsh class of teeth and tongue. 

Keith is draped over his back now, hips rolling in short stuttering movements as he grows close to his end. Lance tilts his head to the side further, the angle uncomfortable but so, so good when it has Keith sucking marks into the curve of his neck. Keith’s teeth are sharp, sharper than most, leave deep purpling bruises and scrapes behind each playful nip across tan skin.

Keith kisses up the line of Lance’s jaw, smiling by the time he reaches Lance’s ear and sucks the lobe past his lips. He nibbles it, toying with the flesh between his teeth.

“Pretty baby. Daddy’s pretty boy.” Keith whispers against the shell of his ear. “What do you say when daddy’s taking such good care of you?”

“Thank-you, daddy.” Lance sobs, feeling white hot pleasure lapping at every inch of his body, threatening to pull him under its wave. Keith reaches down between his legs, gives Lance’s hard cock a few teasing tugs, thumb rubbing against the head so hard it has Lance whining in oversensitivity. But in trying to escape Keith’s hand, he only pushes himself back harder against his cock. 

“Again. Don’t stop talking.” Keith orders.

“Thank-you, daddy. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-” Lance feels the head of Keith’s cock hit his prostate directly and he throws his head back with a scream. His thighs shake beneath him, as his orgasm starts to crest and crash, about to hit him. He’s on the very edge, he has to say something, has to get it off his chest before he wakes up any second now and Keith is gone.

He inhales sharply. Exhales with a sob. “I love you, daddy!”

Keith’s hips stutter, fucking into Lance uncalulated and clumsy. It’s not like him, and immediately Lance recognizes what the difference was. He turns, smiling cheekily up at Keith’s blushing face. Oh, how he seems shocked by the confession. Leave it to Lance to imagine up such an adorable sex god.

“Wh-”

“I love you so much, Keith, I’m so fucking in love with you.” Lance stares adoringly up at him, cheeks aching from smiling so hard, throat sore from the brutal fucking Keith had given it earlier. Lance keeps talking through the pain though, determined to get his point across. He’s practically babbling by the end of it, as he feels himself finally crumble under the need to let go. His climax hits him and he’s still mumbling uselessly about love as he rides the aftershocks.

Predictably, the force of his high wakes him up and he’s left sitting alone in bed, trying to fight the smile off his face. He said it. He finally said it. It feels like a weight off his chest.

--

It becomes a weight on his chest again in the passing weeks, as he grows more comfortable throwing the sentiment around. 

He says it while he’s settled in Keith’s lap, riding his massive cock like it’s his job, fingernails digging into Keith’s broad shoulders with enough force to draw blood. Keith takes it like a champ though, just grits his teeth and shoves his face into Lance’s collarbones. Lance shoves him back, looks deep into those eyes and confesses his undying love again as he comes.

He says it while Keith’s cock is fucking the tight space between his thighs, the area slick and wet. His cockhead hits Lance’s balls on every thrust in and it’s a tantalizing feeling, has Lance spreading his legs wider to chase after it more, to try and get Keith’s tip to catch on the rim of his hole. When it finally does, Lance cries with relief, grips Keith’s hand hard and tells him he loves him.

He says it while he’s standing with Keith between his legs, staring adoringly up at him while he tries to clench his bladder, keep from pissing over his lover’s beautiful face despite how excited Keith seems to be for just that to happen. Lance weaves his fingers through his hair and tells him he’s never loved anyone or anything quite like he loves him.

The thing is, for as many times as he has said it, his beautiful dreamlover hasn’t said it back once .

Isn’t the point of these dreams to fulfill his fantasies? What he’s fantasizing about lately, almost entirely, is something soft and loving. He wants boring, plain, ole missionary. He wants Keith to hold him close as he bottoms out inside of him, wants their breaths to mingle, wants them to whisper sweet nothings against each others lips. 

He wants Keith to fucking say it back.

---

He has Keith right where he wants him today. Settled spread-eagle across the mattress, arms and legs tied down, forced to do nothing but take it as Lance sinks down onto him. He doesn’t even ride Keith, just stays sitting on him and uses him to plug up his needy hole, jerks his cock off in the meantime. He’s going to come across Keith’s abs, gonna paint his skin with streaks of white. Claim him. 

As soon as the thought passes Lance’s mind, something hungry and possessive overcomes him.

He wants Keith to be his. Only his.

“Keith.” Lance draws out his name, curls his tongue around every syllable like he’s giving head, slow and sultry. He wants to pour every bit of affection he has for the man underneath him into the way he says his name. He places his hands on Keith’s chest, giving his hips a teasing rock as he pinches Keith’s nipples meanly. Keith throws his head back, trying to buck his hips and only getting another reprimanding pinch for misbehaving. “Keith, hey, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Keith cracks open one eye, staring curiously at Lance. It’s harder to ask for what he wants when Keith is looking him in the eye like that, like he’s somehow already suspicious of where this is going. Lance averts his eyes. He wants so badly, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

“Praise me.” Lance decides on last minute, his cheeks aflame.

“Feels so good, fuck, I love being inside of you.” Keith thrashes beneath him, trying to drive himself in deeper. He’s just gonna have to take what he gets though, because he isn’t getting anywhere without Lance’s approval. So Keith talks, his voice almost taking on a begging element. “So tight, so perfect, could spend my whole life with my cock buried in your ass. You’re the perfect cockwarmer, baby.”

“Not like that.” The annoyance must be audible in his words because Keith looks taken aback by it, looks totally and utterly lost. He’s never had Lance blatantly reject anything he’s done, not quite like that. But Lance has never had something he wants as badly as this before, and nothing else will even begin to give him the relief and satisfaction he’s after. He needs to hear Keith say it.

“Good boy?”

“No.” Lance crinkles his nose in disgust. Keith groans in annoyance, trying to hitch his hips forward again and failing. He tugs on the bonds that hold his hands down.

“Work with me here, babe, what do you want?” Keith tries, flashing his most dazzling and convincing smile. He looks unfairly charming like this, flushed and sweaty from overexertion, hair falling in his eyes in loose waves. Lance just wants to gather him up and hug him, wants to dote on him with hours of aftercare, he wants to cuddle up and watch cheesy rom-coms with him on the couch. He wants it all so feverishly that it comes to a boiling point and sort-of just busts out of him.

“Tell me you love me.” Lance’s voice isn’t a question, or even a request, it’s a demand. Keith immediately pales underneath him, even more than usual. Trying to relax him, Lance rocks his hips in earnest, the filthy wet sound of lube filling the room as he takes Keith’s dick exactly how he wants it. Fast and hard.

Keith kicks and twitches beneath him, mewling loudly. “Tell me all the reasons you love me, and how much, and for how long. Tell me that you don’t want anyone else, that you want to be with me forever .”

“Lance.”

“Yeah?” Lance’s entire face lights up, thinking he’s finally made a breakthrough. But Keith’s usual smile is void of any emotion, let alone love, it doesn’t even reach his eyes. It’s strained and uncomfortable, reminds Lance of all the girls who rejected him in middle school. His dreams are supposed to be the place he goes so he doesn’t face rejection. His unconscious mind has always been his happy place and now even the figment of his own imagination can’t bring himself to love Lance? 

“I can’t.”

“You’re my dream, isn’t it your job to do what I want?” Lance hisses angrily, maybe a little bit rudely. He isn’t sure what the rules actually are, but he tries not to mention that he’s dreaming when he’s dreaming, tries not to call Keith out on what he is. But the mood has been shattered for him now and he doesn’t care anymore, he just wants to roll off and go back to sleep. Normal, sexless sleep.

“I don’t understand.” Keith tries, looking up at him hopelessly. 

“Emotionless animalistic sex is great, it is, and for some people maybe that’s all they ever want but… I’ve had my fill. Literally. I just, I want something more.” Lance tries to explain, but his voice breaks as he thinks harder on what he’s actually doing. Is he really so desperate that he’s gonna cry to his own fantasy about his love life? Is gonna beg him to reciprocate it? 

Lance is spiralling. Slipping. Sliding.

“Are you okay?” 

“I should be settling down. I should be falling in love. Why am I fucking doing this?! Why am I-”

Lance wakes up. He doesn’t even have come in his boxers, for the first time ever after a dream featuring Keith in it. It’s never happened before and he’s confused why it’s starting now. Maybe he’s naturally growing out of the whole wet dreams stage of his life? Maybe he can finally start to move on.

He sits there until sunrise thinking about it. 

Would moving on really be such a bad thing? Sure, he cares deeply about Keith, but it wouldn’t be a real loss to stop dreaming of him. It would only give him more desire to pursue something with a living, breathing person.

--

A couple days pass before he dreams of Keith again. He’s had a good amount of time to overthink things, to really wonder where he wants things to go from here, if he even cares anymore if Keith says it back. It isn’t on the forefront of his mind anymore. But then again, neither is sex.

Keith looks adorably out of his element as he crawls into Lance’s bed. There’s no elaborate kink involved this time, no new positions to try, nothing to show that Keith has any plans whatsoever. He looks lost, trying and failing to read Lance’s mood and go from there. So, instead he just crawls into bed next to Lance, runs a hand down his body and slips it into the front of his sweatpants.

Lance catches his wrist though, dragging it back.

“Hey, I’m not really in the mood tonight. I know this is supposed to be a horny dream or whatever, but can we just cuddle?” Lance asks dumbly, as if he needs permission to do such a thing in his own mind. It seems like the right thing to do though, especially when Keith looks so startled by the suggestion his eyes bug out of his head. He doesn’t even respond, just stares wide-eyed down at his hand that had been in Lance’s pants moments before. Lance grows impatient. “Keith?”

“Yeah, sure.” He blurts finally, collapsing onto the empty stretch of mattress next to Lance. And, true to self, Lance smothers him with affection immediately. He isn’t sure whether he’ll get this opportunity again, has never been offered it in the past, and he’s determined to make the most out of it. So he climbs half on-top of Keith, hitches a leg over his hips and pulls him in close.

Lance’s head settles on Keith’s chest and he sighs contently, listening to the beating of his heart.

A long time passes like that, long enough that it feels like days have passed in the concept of dream time, but Lance never tires of it. He just lies there, basking in Keith’s warmth, and Keith’s gentle touch when it settles in Lance’s hair and twirls silky strands around his fingers.

“I wish you were real.” Lance says under his breath, hugging Keith that much harder to try and make up for the way the thought makes his own chest feel hollow. Keith sighs back, tucking his chin over Lance’s head and holding him tight. Lance thinks he feels a kiss pressed to the crown of his head, but he can’t be sure.

“Me too.”

--

As it turns out, Lance does get another chance to hold Keith like that. And another. And another.

Keith keeps coming back each night in his dreams and Lance is greedy for it now, shamelessly requests to cuddle and nothing else. Keith is starting to get the memo and not even attempt to initiate anything else.

It's a nice change of pace.

--

Of course, inevitably, Keith does grow antsy after the 5th or 6th dream in a row without sex. That is his purpose of being after all, to satisfy Lance's repressed horny thoughts. 

“Hey.” Lance laughs, as Keith crawls overtop him and immediately starts trying to rut between his legs, with little preamble. His usual intimidating sex god persona is gone for tonight and instead he’s just a needy boy, pouting as he tries to get himself off from rocking against Lance’s clothed cock. Lance isn’t even hard, probably isn’t going to get there tonight. He’s not into it, as much as Keith looks adorable when he gets desperate like this. 

He places a hand on Keith’s shoulder, gently pushing him away. “Keith, stop, I don’t want to.”

“You never want to lately.” Keith groans rather petulantly, but there’s no real aggression there, just an immediate resignation and feeling of defeat. He collapses into the bed next to Lance, angrily broods for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling. Then, he rolls onto his side, eyes alight with determination as he crowds into Lance’s space. He places a hand on his inner thigh, teasing. “Come on, baby, I’ll eat you out. You love it when I do that. I’ll stretch you open around my tongue, taste myself so deep inside of you-”

“I don’t want to!” Lance shouts at him, something inside of himself snapping.

It would be easy to give in to what Keith wants, so incredibly easy. In a way, Lance wants it too. He always has and he surely always will. He’s not strong enough to pretend he doesn’t, that he’s above wanting the sex they have together. He just wants so much more and it hurts to only have half of it.

He doesn’t have it in him to shove Keith away, so he breaks down just like that. He feels his face crumple, feels the lump in his throat crawl higher and higher inexplicably, feels the sting behind his eyes grow burning and unbearable. He starts to cry, bawls like a baby, with Keith settled next to him in the bed and watching every second of it. Lance cries like he hasn’t allowed himself to since his last heartbreak. This one somehow feels more raw, more real, even though it’s the opposite of that.

“Lance?” Keith is beside himself with worry. His hands flutter across Lance’s stomach, like he isn’t sure what to do with himself, only knows that he has to do something. He presses chaste little kisses across the highs of Lance’s cheekbones down to the hollows, until Lance finally turns and collapses into him with one heavy sob. “Lance, hey, don’t cry.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Lance is a blubbering snotty mess, sobbing brokenly into Keith’s shoulder, clutching his shirt for dear life. Keith doesn’t complain whatsoever. He just holds Lance close, buries his face into short brown hair, whispers quiet reassurances. Lance doesn’t hear any of them, all he sees is himself growing old alone, with nothing to show for it but a history of pathetic wet dreams. This isn’t it, this can’t be all he has to look forward to. “I can’t. I can't do this anymore.”

“Shh, it’s okay, breathe.”

“Stop it!” Lance rolls out of bed clumsily, and with it, out of the warmth of Keith’s hold. He stands beside the bed, poised and ready to bolt even further if that’s what it takes to sever the connection, the desire to crawl right back in beside Keith and forget all of this. Keith, who looks so incredibly different now, small and naive in the middle of an empty bed. “Stop being nice, stop pretending to care, stop giving me false hope. You’re not even real!”

“I do care about you!” Keith argues, stumbling to try and get to his feet, his ankle tangled in the blankets and holding him back. He looks back at it, trying to wrench himself free, then turns to Lance. “I love-”

“No.” Lance says, immediate and final. He can’t bear to listen to that word coming from Keith’s mouth, even though he’s spent the past month waiting for it, desperately dreaming of this moment. It isn’t right anymore, he can’t let it be right anymore. “I don’t want to hear it anymore. Please don’t say it now. It’ll only make this harder.”

“Make what harder?” Keith asks, but something about the defeated element in his voice says he already knows the answer. He just doesn’t want to believe it.

Lance turns away from him, cupping his hands over his ears. This is the hardest break-up he’s ever had and he isn’t even awake. He squeezes his eyes shut, pinches himself, counts to ten a few times. He’s desperate to just wake up, to get himself out of this situation. It isn’t real, so why does it feel so real? 

The pain in his heart is definitely real.

“Wake up, wake up, please let me wake up, wake up-”

“Lance? What’s wrong?” Keith is beside him now, hand settling hesitantly on his shoulder. Lance jerks away from him quickly. He turns around to face him, their eyes meeting at the much closer proximity. 

At the end of it, Keith looks just as heartbroken as him, like he’s losing something of his own. And it makes no sense, but Lance feels for him anyway, even knowing he’s not real and he can’t begin to understand what it means to be.

“I’m in love with you and you’re breaking my heart.” Lance whispers, bottom lip quivering under the force of the confession. Lance offers a weak smile. “It hurts , Keith. It’s hurting me to have only this when I want so much more. And we both know you can never give me more.”

Lance wakes up.

He wakes up with a soaked face, tears leaving both his cheeks clammy and sticky. He swipes his sleeve across them, but then he only ends up producing more as he thinks back on it. Just before he woke up, it almost looked like Keith was going to start crying too. That’s somehow the worst part of all of this.

--

The dreams miraculously stop on their own after that. 

He goes an entire week without one, the longest time since he was a horny lonely sixteen year old. It should feel like a victory, it’s what he wanted after all, but it doesn’t bring any of the relief he’d been hoping for. Keith still haunts his every waking moment, the only difference is now he doesn’t get to see him anymore. He only has his conscious memories, which aren’t nearly as satisfying as the dreams had been. There’s no tricking himself into believing in Keith while he’s awake.

--

Slowly, but surely, Hunk and Pidge manage to drag him out of the house again as the month passes. He’s still heartbroken, still a little hesitant, but they’re determined and they don’t even ask him any questions about what happened. They’re so considerate and understanding that he just goes along with it blindly, let’s himself be set up on dates, goes out to clubs as a gang for the first time in over three years. It’s kind-of nice, actually.

Nice on the surface, below that he’s still feeling a tangible loss from his life. He spent every night with Keith, real or not real, that’s a big part of his everyday being to suddenly disappear.

--

“Hunk! Call me when you get this. You would not believe it! You were so right about that girl, we were great together. Everything went perfectly. I really like her. I don’t know, man, it just feels right. Thanks for setting us up together.” Lance speaks idly into his phone as he sticks his key into the lock of his apartment, a mile-wide smile stretched across his face. He’s had the best night and can’t wait to share every detail with his best friend who made it happen.

He pushes the door open and hangs up, ending the call. Inside his apartment is completely dark and he flicks the light on, humming softly under his breath. He heads to the kitchen and grabs himself a glass of water, leaning back against the counter and sighing dreamily. He couldn’t believe how well the date had actually gone. There wasn’t a single awkward silence, there was no shortage of things for them to talk about, and she seemed so interested in Lance there was no mistaking anything for a mixed signal.

They’re a good fit.

And sure, maybe, right now it’s hard for Lance to see her as anything more than a friend, but that will probably change with time. As they grow more comfortable. 

Lance heads down the hallway with his glass of water in hand, and phone in the other, a goofy smile on his face as he texts her to thank her for the nice night. He pushes his bedroom door open, yawns softly as he uses his elbow to shift the lightswitch on. He turns to his bed, glancing up from his phone unceremoniously last second before falling onto it.

He shrieks, stumbling backward, glass shattering across the floor and splashing water across his bare feet. He tries to bring himself to not scramble away and make a run for it, recognizing that the glass surrounding him is a threat just as much as the strange men settled on the edge of his mattress.

Lance draws a deep breath, debating his options.

It has to be a dream. As real as it feels, and as much as Lance doesn’t remember falling asleep, there’s no other explanation that makes sense. The guy is… hot. Lance has eyes, you know, he’d be a fool not to state the obvious. He’s shirtless and ridiculously muscular, more-so than Keith ever was, with a streak of white in otherwise dark hair. Lance is sort-of more hung up on the horns extending from his head than his dashing good looks though.

The shadows shift and Lance catches a slither of movement behind him. Wings. And a tail. Fuck. He really needs to stop drinking coffee before bed, it messes with his dreams something awful.

“Here we fucking go again, another beefy hot guy to haunt my dreams and ruin my life with his stupid big dick.” Lance jokes, eyeing the floor and then jumping gracelessly onto the bed. The mattress bounces beneath his added weight, as he sits up and stares at the stranger. The stranger stares back at him, wearing a deep scowl. No one makes any move to actually initialize anything and Lance finds himself feeling oddly thankful for that.

Lance wonders briefly if his tastes have changed, if this is supposedly the new personification of his sexual fantasies… he still likes Keith better. He doesn’t think he’s changed this much.

“This isn’t a dream, Lance.” The man says, tail flicking beside him as he speaks. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah right, that would mean someone broke into my apartment and I actually had a successful date for once.” Lance jokes, rolling his eyes in dismissal immediately. He leans back, stretching out across the bed, his arms so high above his head that it leaves his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. He doesn’t miss the way the stranger’s eyes follow the movement, gaze trained on the newly exposed skin. 

This is sort-of a strange set-up for a sex dream, Lance feels more anxious than he feels turned on, but his subconscious is a thing of wonder and there’s no telling what it needs to get off tonight. “Come on, you have horns and wings, and a tail! Obviously this is a dream.”

“Not a dream.” The man repeats, leaning over Lance so their eyes meet. “A demon.” 

“Whatever, dude.” Lance laughs, low and throaty. He throws his arm over his eyes, giggling nonsensically at the mere possibility this could be real. He probably fell asleep when he got out of the shower, before his date even happened. He has a bad habit of falling into bed with nothing but a towel on post-shower and passing out for a nap like that.

Suddenly, a heavy hand settles around Lance’s throat. It isn’t a light touch, it isn’t playful, it’s heavy and unforgiving right from the start. It’s not safe and soft like Keith does it, just teasing on the edge of cutting off Lance’s airflow, just enough for him to feel it. This man’s grip is punishing, painful, enough to have Lance launching straight into panic attack territory.

“Does it feel like a dream, Lance?” The man growls, grip tightening.

Even when he’d pleaded and begged for Keith to hurt him, to hit him and spank him, to choke him just like this… there had never been any genuine pain associated with it. It was still pleasure, always pleasure, that he got out of it. That was the appeal of the dreams, Lance could try even the most wildest and dangerous kinks and know that they’d never go wrong.

“I-” Lance chokes, wet and gurgling, not at all satisfying. Lance blinks back tears, hands coming up to scrabble across the stranger’s wrists. If it is a dream, it’s a nightmare, and Lance doesn’t want to be here anymore. He hates this feeling. Keith never made him feel like this. 

Suddenly, the man’s grip relents. Lance is left there panting, chest rapidly rising and falling, eyes leaking tears steadily as he sits up. He can’t catch his breath properly no matter how he tries. His lungs ache.

“Alright, have you accepted that you’re awake now? Let’s talk about my-” The man pauses, watching as Lance leaps over the shattered glass remains and takes off running down the hall. He moves like a bolt, as fast as his legs can carry him, and even still it’s only a matter of seconds before the stranger overcomes him. Whatever he is, it certainly is not human.

“Help! Help! Anybody, please, there’s someone in my-” Lance feels an arm loop around his waist, yanking him off the ground and carrying him dutifully back toward the bed. The man’s other hand comes up to clasp over his mouth, keeping him silent again. Lance thrashes to escape the whole time, with no luck, given the guy is built like a brick house.

“Please, if you’d refrain from doing that, I’m only here to talk.” The man sits them back down on the bed, facing each other this time. His stare is so heavy Lance can hardly bear to meet his gaze directly, wishes he could look anywhere else. “You promise to let me speak?”

Lance nods.

The man lifts his hand.

Immediately Lance starts screaming for help again.

“Help me! H-” 

“Listen to me!” The stranger roars, loud enough to have Lance’s jaw shake with the rush to slam shut and accommodate this man. The man’s eyes light up an intimidating red and Lance cowers, convinced he has to be dreaming still at this point. “My brother is starving to death because of whatever witchcraft you pulled on him. I want answers. I want your help. I won’t leave until I get both of those things.”

“What do you want? You want some food for your brother? I can spare something from my fridge if you just let me go-”

“No, I don’t want your fucking food, that’s not what we eat.” The man seems exasperated, like every single Lance says is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “Come on, Lance, try to cooperate. Keith needs your help. I need your help. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Keith?” Lance repeats slowly, feeling his resolve crumple at the very mention of the name. He hasn’t spoken it in so long, it feels weird to allow himself to say it now. He’d all but banned thoughts of Keith from his mind entirely. He winces, trying to stop himself from backsliding on all of the progress he’d worked so hard to make. “Keith isn’t real, he’s a dream. He’s a figment of my imagination. You are a crazy person if you think otherwise... or maybe I’m imagining you and I’m the crazy person.”

“You humans really are dense.” The stranger growls, growing aggravated again. He doesn’t seem to have near the same amount of patience Keith always had. “Keith is real. He’s a demon, an incubus. He’s been feeding off of you for years and now the food source has dried up .”

“I don’t-”

“Keith is dying, Lance!” The man’s voice cracks, and for the barest second, Lance sees right through all the anger and aggression into something much simpler behind the words. He’s afraid. Terrified. He doesn’t want to lose Keith anymore than Lance had that night they’d shared their goodbyes. That’s not the kind of raw emotion one can fake. “I thought you cared about him. You told him you loved him.”

“I do! I did . I... don’t know anymore.” Lance buries his face in his hands, tries to replay the conversation and come to terms with what he’s hearing. “Keith’s really dying? I don’t understand any of this.”

“Neither does Keith.” A heavy hand settles on Lance’s shoulder. “He’s scared, confused, alone, and all he cares about is making sure you’re okay and respecting your boundaries. Damn it, he could literally take what he needs from you, but he won’t do that. So, you’re sort-of my last hope, as much as it pains me to admit. I hate feeling helpless like this, but he won’t help himself, this is all I can do.”

Lance removes himself from the moment, from the entire conversation. He thinks back on his favorite memories with Keith, thinks back to how real he’d always seemed, how out of his element he’d seemed with anything that wasn’t sex. He wasn’t a vague morphing entity in Lance’s subconscious, he had a set personality, he had individuality with his choices and his words. He had always seemed real. Lance just never allowed himself to believe it.

Then he thinks of Keith, caring and awkward, trying his damndest to meet all of Lance’s non-sex related requests despite being completely outside of his comfort zone. He’d gone out of his way for Lance so many times, had grown so comfortable and familiar with what they did together. And now, he was all alone and suffering, putting himself secondary to Lance’s needs again?

“How can I… help him?” Lance’s mind is made.

“He needs to feed.” The demon suits Lance with a straight-faced serious stare, but even still Lance finds himself blushing with the realization, fighting back a nervous giggle. “I’m sure you can gather how an incubus feeds, given the nature of your past interactions with Keith?”

“Yep. Point taken. No need to elaborate further.” Lance says hurriedly, like he can’t say it fast enough.

“Keith is back in hell. He’s taking time away from the mortal realm. The only way for you to get to him in time to save him is to summon him here. I wrote down all the instructions, even you can’t mess it up.”

“Okay.” Lance nods, accepting the hand-scribbled notes that the man is holding out to him. He looks it over, only does a double-take once at the horrific summoning circle he’s meant to draw, and the fact he’ll need to spill his own blood to make it work. It suddenly feels a lot more like messing with voodoo and black magic than Lance had prepared himself for. But the demon is still looking at him and Lance isn’t about to back down, knowing the stakes.

He nods once more, in agreement, and then sets the instructions aside on the bed. 

“Look, I should warn you…” Of all the words Lance had ever imagined using to describe a literal demon, well, “sheepish” wasn’t one of them until this exact moment. The demon looks indescribably nervous about whatever he’s about to say. “Keith might be a little bit more… demonic than you remember him. He doesn’t have the restraint he’d normally have, his focus probably won’t be on bringing you pleasure as much as forcing it out of you. He’s ravenous.” 

“Oh.” Lance breathes, feeling himself heating up all over, and not just from a nervous blush this time. The thought that Keith had been holding back this entire time, poised and perfect in his mission to get Lance off, had never thought even once about his own pleasure… it’s something. It’s something else to think about the opposite, of Keith taking Lance apart at the seams, unforgiving and brutal in taking what he wants. He wants to see that Keith, unhinged and desperate, all control lost.

“Lance? Is that okay?” 

“Should not be a problem.”

“Hm. Interesting. No wonder Keith was so captivated by you.”

“You know what, I think you should go.” Lance says, maybe a little bit harshly, but it can’t be helped. He doesn’t like the newfound interest in the demon’s eyes, the spark of intrigue that sends Lance’s spine crawling. It isn’t like Keith’s gaze, appreciative and respectful, captivated by Lance like he’s an exotic creature in need of worship. This demon’s stare is something hungrier, something more greedy by nature, and so selfish. “I’ve got like a whole demonic ritual ahead of me, there isn’t any time to spare.”

“Don’t worry, Lance, I wouldn’t take you from Keith.” The man smirks, but even as he promises as much his eyes continue to wander. It’s an uncomfortable level of attention, unwavering with its intensity. Lance shifts awkwardly beneath it. “I’m sure he’d tear me apart if I tried. There’s a reason you’ve never dreamt of another. He’s fiercely protective of you, he wouldn’t even approve of me coming here, despite the circumstances. But, thank-you. I owe you one.”

“Never been owed a favor from a demon before.” Lance tries to crack a joke, tries to pull his sleeves up further to cover more of his skin. Finally, the demon’s lingering gaze darts away, to the other side of the room like he’s finally caught on to how unwelcome it is. He gets to his feet, heads toward the shadows in the corner of Lance’s room. He hesitates. Lance can see the tense line of his shoulders, the tight curl of his fists at his sides. “Hey, don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. I won’t let anything happen to him. I care about him too.”

“I’m a demon, I don’t feel emotion.” With that, the demon steps into the shadows and dematerializes in front of Lance’s eyes. He rubs at them a few times to be sure he really saw what he saw, but nothing changes. The demon really became one with the shadows. Lance frowns into the empty space of his room, glancing down at the summoning circle diagrams.

--

Drawing out the summoning circle and perfecting all of the runes is a lot harder than Lance would have guessed, but he finds a way to make it work. He draws it out across his bedroom floor, shoving the rug aside to make sure it’s big enough to fit Keith inside. He lights candles, even though that wasn’t listed in the notes the other demon gave him, Lance feels like if he’s gonna do this then he has to go all out.

An hour later and Lance finds himself shakily holding a knife to his wrist overtop the center of the newly finished circle. This is the part he’s hesitating with, just pressing the blade to his skin, applying none of the pressure to actually draw blood. He knows it’s a necessary part of the ritual, and it isn’t even the final step that has him hesitating, it’s the uncertainty of what to expect when/if Keith does appear in front of him.

Will he pounce on Lance right away? Will he want to talk it out first? Will he even be capable of talking?

Sheepishly, Lance sets the knife aside to pull his shirt over his head. He tosses it somewhere behind himself, working on undoing his jeans and sliding them down his legs. As embarrassing as it is, they’ll probably only get in the way. And it isn’t like Keith hasn’t seen it all a hundred times before. Almost all of the dreams started with Lance completely naked, he just didn’t have the common sense to feel shame about it back then.

This time though, for his own sanity, Lance decides to leave one article of clothing on.

He digs it out of the shameful back corner of his bedside drawer, his cock already hard and beading clear pre-cum at the tip as Lance pulls the underwear to settle overtop it. Immediately, a wet spot seeps into the fabric, it spreads from the tip of his cock through the white lace. Damning in how obvious it is.

Fuck. 

Despite going out and spending a ridiculous amount on lingerie for himself years ago, he’d never really worn it beyond the occasional time he was home alone, feeling some type of way (usually tipsy). He liked the way it looked, hugging his skin so tight, alluring in how it left everything and nothing to the imagination at once. He felt most confident clad in nothing at all but the sheerness of lace.

Well, he felt confident when he was alone, taking pictures of himself or staring in the mirror, sometimes touching himself to the sight of his own body. He’d never dared to wear it around another person before, never felt anywhere near comfortable enough with any of his partners to bring it up before. It just felt like a tense conversation waiting to unfold, one that would make Lance never want to attempt wearing it again. Definitely not one that would make him feel as desired and alluring as he always felt on his own when he wore this stuff.

However… he’d never exactly counted Keith as a partner back then, figuring he was fictional made it all too easily for Lance to explore any of his kinks and quirks in Keith’s presence. No one had ever seen him dressed up prettily in lace like this, except for Keith. Keith who knew his kinks inside and out, knew how to construct wonderful fantasies solely for the purpose of getting Lance off. 

Keith always tried to keep his reactions toned down, probably for the sake of appearing impartial so Lance would feel confident to explore anything on his own terms. But there had never been any mistaking the way Keith’s eyes grew dark with want when Lance was sprawled out underneath him, lace clinging tight to his skin, framing his curves so beautifully.

Lace makes Lance feel confident, it always has, and he needs any extra confidence he can get as he settles on his knees in front of the summoning circle. Lips pressed tight together, fingertips tracing the blade of the knife, heart hammering away in his chest.

“Here goes nothing.” Lance mutters out of the corner of his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he slides the blade across his wrist with some pressure behind it. He hisses at the sting of it, peeks an eye open to watch as deep red wells up at the source of the cut. He turns his arm over, watching with wild eyes as the drops begin to fall, hitting the floor in the center of the circle.

For a few terrifying seconds, nothing happens. Lance is sitting there in his underwear, bleeding, and wondering if this whole thing was some elaborate prank. 

Then, the candles all blow out at once. 

The room is bathed in darkness, except for the runes on the floor beginning to glow. Lance watches them start to light up, stumbling backward in shock. Slowly, but surely, the air inside the circle seems to spark and circle into something resembling a miniature tornado. A shadow appears in the center of it, flickering in and out like it has a bad connection, until finally it becomes a solid figure.

And then, suddenly, there’s someone standing there in the moonlit area of Lance’s room.

“What-” Keith looks pissed even with barely any lighting on his face. “ Lance ?”

It’s definitely Keith, but it’s Keith like Lance has never seen him before. With strong powerful wings wrapped around his shoulders, a long tail with a pointed tip, horns that curl back around his head, and eyes that seem to glow the same eerie red as the runes on the floor. He’s naked, because apparently that’s the standard for demons minding their own business in hell, and Lance can’t get over how intimidating he looks standing over him like this.

He blushes nervously, as he looks up the line of Keith’s body in awe. Despite how good his body looks, poised and god-like, the effects of not feeding show in his face. Tired circles under his eyes, lips pale and lifeless, cheeks hollowed out, even his eyes seem twitchy and inhuman, strung-out. 

Lance doesn’t miss the fact that now that Keith has come to terms with where he is, he’s taking the time to check out Lance in earnest. His eyes linger somewhere between Lance’s legs, curiosity sparking about that one garment he’s still wearing. Lance wonders if he can smell the arousal in the air.

“You look awful.” Lance blurts, rather stupidly considering all the ways his words can be misinterpreted right now, as he’s seeing Keith in his true form for the first time. He backtracks quickly, panic rising in his throat, feeling incredibly intimidated by Keith despite how comfortable he’s always been around him in the past. “I’ve never really seen you look anything less than perfect. It’s weird. You look so… real.”

“I am real.” The words leave Keith’s throat in a growl, very clearly dissatisfied. Lance scrambles backward before he can help himself, until his back is hitting the edge of the bed. He looks up at Keith, watching helplessly as he steps out of the summoning circle without trouble.

“I know.” Lance tries to calm his racing heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have done this, Lance.” Keith reaches up, pressing a hand to his forehead. He winces, upper lip curling back in a sneer. He’s holding himself together by a thread. “I’m not myself right now.”

“That’s sort-of the reason why I did this.” Lance offers a small, nervous smile. With just the barest hint of trepidation, Lance leans back against the bed frame and spreads his legs wide. Immediately, Keith’s gaze zeroes in on the space between them, red wavering hungrily in his irises. He licks his lips. Lance’s hand is trembling as he directs it down to cup himself through the lace. “It’s okay, Keith, I know you need to.”

“I’m not going to take advantage of-”

“I want you to.” Lance corrects quickly, splaying his legs wider, starting to stroke himself through the thin stretch of fabric. His breath hitches, head tipping back to rest against the mattress behind him. He gropes at himself until he’s fully hard again, twitching against his own palm. Keith watches closely the entire time, his own cock rising. Lance stares back through heavily lidded eyes, sighing dreamily. “I want you .”

“Damn it, Lance.” Keith hisses, turning his back on Lance and pacing across the floor. He reaches up behind his head, running his hands through his hair, effortlessly mindful of the horns. Lance bites his lip, bucking up into his own hand, unable to keep from chasing more of the feeling. Keith still isn’t facing him when he speaks up again. “We really shouldn’t. I’ve never done it like this, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, Keith?” Lance calls, voice sultry and longing, trying to tempt him. Keith looks back over his shoulder, scowl visibly crumpling and giving way to something much more intrigued. No sooner had his expression changed than was he spinning around, slamming a hand into the wall hard enough to leave a very visible, very real indent.

“Fuck!” Keith’s restraint is slipping. His fingers curl into the drywall, leaving claw marks behind. Lance gulps around the lump in his throat, equal parts nervous and turned on at the thought of having those powerful hands on him instead. “How did you even find out how to summon me?!”

“The other demon t-told me.” 

“Shiro?” Keith whips around all at once, stalking toward Lance with eyes shining scarlet. Lance clambers backward, climbing onto the bed just in time before Keith is on him. Keith pounces, hands settling on Lance’s chest and pushing him back until he lands flat against the mattress underneath him. It’s suddenly a lot harder to concentrate with a lapful of very naked demon writhing on top of him, almost angrily.

“H-He said you were dying, Keith, he was only worried about you.” Lance is panting, head tipped back, nails dragging uselessly across the meat of Keith’s thighs where they bracket Lance’s hips. They rock together with building urgency, as Keith leans over him and presses his face into the crook of Lance’s neck. He’s growling constantly now, shredding at the sheets on either side of them to keep from putting his hands on Lance.

“That bastard.” He sounds genuinely furious, even as his hips pick up speed and hump against Lance with a clumsy amount of impatience. With only the soft lace separating them, Lance can feel every inch of the slide as their cocks rut together, the tip of Keith’s cockhead catching on the waistband on the fabric each thrust. “I specifically told him to stay away from you! That he wasn’t allowed to-” 

“We didn’t do anything.” Lance whines, prying his own hands out of the sheets and struggling to bring them up to cup Keith’s face as his entire body is rocked under the force of the other man’s thrusts. He manages in the end, cupping Keith’s jaw, running his hands soothingly over his cheeks. Keith’s growl is starting to taper out, especially as he turns and buries his nose into the dip of Lance’s palm.

“I can smell his fucking hands on you, Lance. Around your neck.” Keith breathes, low and unsteady, a tremble behind the words. “Do you have any idea how off-putting it is to smell another incubus on your food? We’re intensely territorial at the best of times. If he were here right now I’d be tearing him apart.”

“I don’t want him. I never wanted him.” Lance gasps as Keith’s hips line up against his just right again, the entire length of the underwear growing soaked through with both of their pre-cum. Lance directs Keith’s face downward, until he can lean up and brush their lips lightly together. “I only want you.”

“Oh, you’ll have me.” The smirk behind Keith’s words is almost audible. “So many times and so many ways, you’ll forget yourself to accommodate for me.”

He presses their mouths together again, open-mouthed and panting, and licks his way into Lance’s with unwavering confidence. Lance moans, returning the kiss with an eagerness that borders on pathetic, letting Keith have his way with him and lead the kiss from start to finish. A precursor for how the rest of the night will go. 

Lance shoves him away in the end, when he feels his orgasm coming on too fast and he can’t stand the lace rubbing against the head of his cock anymore, where it’s red and swollen, so very sensitive to the touch. He reaches down to readjust himself, until the tip of his erection rests outside of his underwear, the waistband framing just under the head to keep it there. Keith looks down between their bodies to watch, his eyes bleeding red desire so openly it has Lance’s cock immediately oozing pre-cum across his abdomen.

“Go ahead, then.” Lance breathes, ever the instigator. “Are you gonna talk this big game all night or are you gonna actually do something?”

“You always were the perfect whore, weren’t you?” 

“Keith?” Lance shuffles backwards, but Keith follows him just as quickly. His hands settle heavily on the insides of Lance’s thighs, stroking over the smooth skin there as he ducks his head between them. He immediately wraps his lips around the head of Lance’s cock, tongue lathing across the slit right from the start, no time to prepare himself whatsoever. His cock jumps uselessly, threatening to spill down his throat already. “Keith! It’s too much, I can’t-”

Keith pulls off accordingly and for all of five seconds, Lance thinks he’s being given the chance to catch his breath and cool down a little bit before they continue. His chest heaves as he lies back, staring up at the ceiling, willing himself back from the edge.

But then Keith simply grabs the waistband of Lance’s pretty lace panties, brings it up and over the head of his cock again, leaves his erection straining in its confines. Then, his eyes flicker up to Lance’s, sinister intentions laid out plainly across his features. Lance shivers, legs spreading involuntarily further, ready for whatever Keith has in store for him.

Keith leans down again, closing his mouth around the head of Lance’s cock again, but this time overtop the lace separating them. He sucks harshly, mouthing at the outline of Lance’s cock through the fabric, the wet spot from their pre-cum growing into something slicked-through with Keith’s saliva. The fabric is soaked, clinging wetly to Lance’s skin, even tighter than before.

Lance starts to struggle again, but Keith’s hands settle on his hips and pin him down against the mattress.

He’s forced to take it as Keith sucks at the head of his cock, unforgiving constant pressure to where he needs it most but can hardly stand to take when it’s so overwhelmingly sensitive. His legs tremble, closing around Keith’s head and bracketing him in, desperately trying to avoid the constant, agonizing stimulation. He can feel his cock twitching, the amounting pressure, the electric shock of pleasure coursing through him.

He’s close, so close already, and he has no way of avoiding it where he’s pinned under Keith’s torturous mouth. He watches Lance with a predatory glint in his eyes as he works his lips over him, his tongue darting out to flick back and forth over where pre-cum is still pooling into the fabric, constant now. The hard pressure from the tip of Keith’s tongue is too much and Lance’s hips struggle uselessly against his hold, trying desperately to buck up and bury himself into warm heat.

Instead, he has to splay his hands over his face in embarrassment and come just like that. Keith leans back to watch with a smirk, biting his lip as Lance’s cock jumps and starts jerking. It spills through the dainty fabric immediately, the thick white liquid following the patterns in the lace, leaking down the entire front of the underwear. 

Lance moans the entire time, hips undulating against Keith’s hands as they’re held in place. He rides out the waves of pleasure with no stimulation, just his cock rubbing against that damn fabric. The wet lace clings to him, adopting the cool temperature of the room without Keith’s mouth warming it up, and Lance shivers as the aftershocks jolt through him.

Keith waits until he stills, is left panting and staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, before he leans forward and starts to clean up the mess he made. Lance whimpers in a desperate bid to get Keith to lay off, but there’s nothing he can do to convince him to. So Lance writhes in overstimulation as Keith licks the cum from everywhere it’s spilled between his legs. He makes near constant noises of complaint, whines growing more petulant as time passes.

“Mm. Fuck. You taste so good.” Keith groans, dragging his tongue flat across the mess seeping through the lace, coming away with streaks of white across his tongue. He holds it out for Lance to admire before closing his mouth and swallowing it down. He grins, toothy and self-satisfied. “One orgasm down.” 

“Jesus.” Lance breathes, wiping off his sweat-slicked forehead and dropping his head back against the mattress with a huff. 

“You shouldn’t use the Lord's name in vain, baby.” Keith teases, the irony not going over Lance’s head even in his hazy post-orgasm state. Keith turns his head to the side, kissing along the length of Lance’s inner thighs, down to the apex between his leg and his groin. He lets his tongue trace the crease between them, a growl reverberating against Lance’s skin. Keith introduces teeth then and they’re a lot sharper than Lance remembers them being as Keith nips him. “ Move .”

“I can’t.” Lance complains, giggling breathlessly. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I don’t care.” Keith grunts, baring his teeth against Lance’s skin. Lance tries again to force his legs together and Keith doesn’t even flinch, just grabs a thigh with each hand and slams them down against the mattress again, pinning them there as he takes advantage of the new real estate.

He sucks and nips at Lance’s thighs, speaking between kisses. “I want you face down, ass up. Now .”

“You’re kinda bossy.” Lance grumbles out in complaint, but he finds himself shoving Keith away enough for him to roll over onto his stomach. He pushes himself back, shoves his ass up high in the air, getting his shaky knees underneath himself for support. And if his hips sway a little bit more than necessary with the movement? Well, that’s purely accidental.

Keith, bless his heart, shows no patience whatsoever. He immediately grabs two handfuls of Lance’s ass, one cheek in each palm, and gropes at the flesh. He digs his nails in possessively, spreading them apart, admiring the way the string of the thong still rests between them. Keith leans in and Lance’s entire body locks up, going unnervingly still as he feels Keith’s hot breath wash over his hole. 

One of Keith’s fingers hitch under the string of his thong, pulling it to the side, and Lance is already trembling with anticipation. He hasn’t even gotten hard again yet, but his dick is twitching and giving a valiant effort to try. Keith leans in, nestling his face between round ass cheeks, tongue immediately darting out to drag across Lance’s hole.

“Want me to eat you out, baby?” Keith asks, giving a teasing kiss to where Lance really wanted his mouth. Keith snickers, using his grip on Lance’s ass to rock him back against his face, until Keith’s every exhale has goosebumps rising across Lance’s already slick flesh. “Until your legs are shaking and you can’t hold yourself up anymore? Gonna come while I stretch you out around my tongue?”

“Fuck, Keith.” Lance exhales, burying his face into the pillow. “Yeah, whatever, do what you want.”

“Feeling good?”

“Mm.” Lance sighs contently, pressing his hips back. “I want more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want. Ask for it.” Keith spits into his hole crudely, using his fingers to press the excess liquid back inside, past the tight rim of muscle that flutters uselessly around the intrusion. Lance is growing hard again now and with it, his impatience grows. “I’m not gonna give it to you unless you ask.”

“Your cock.” He demands, even if his voice is akin to an angry whisper more than anything else. Keith hums, moving to lie down on the bed and direct Lance to settle on top of him. Lance let’s Keith guide him, hands heavy and controlling on his hips as they move him into place, straddling Keith’s chest with his ass in his face. Lance groans in embarrassment. “Keith, come on. Fuck me.”

“I don’t know, I think I like where I’m at right now. You’ll have to convince me if you want me to give this view up.” Keith muses, easing Lance back onto him, until he’s sitting on Keith’s face and trembling with the effort of holding his own weight up. Keith doesn’t seem bothered, just slides his tongue back inside and goes back to eating Lance out in earnest. He curls his tongue, presses it up against Lance’s inner walls, traces the twitching muscle drawing him in deeper like he’s mapping it out for future reference.

Lance reaches down to jerk his own cock. 

“Please?” Lance tries, but that in itself isn’t enough. Keith just goes back to what he was doing, long languid strokes of his tongue inside Lance’s body, thoroughly stretching him around it. Lance feels his cock leaking in his completely soiled underwear, just adding to the mess. 

He makes up his mind. Lance leans over and Keith immediately growls, sharp nails digging into his thighs and dragging him back against his face. Lance cries out as Keith’s tongue plunges mercilessly past his rim again, fucking into him over and over, curled to a point. “Keith! Stop! I want to suck you!”

Relenting, Keith slowly pulls back.

“Alright, fine.” Keith distracts himself by kissing over Lance’s ass cheek, nipping it a few times for good measure, leaving his marks wherever he can. Lance acts fast, doesn’t know how much time he has before Keith gets antsy and picks back up what he was doing before. Lance isn’t exactly good at multitasking, at least not while he’s being tongue-fucked.

He leans over and takes Keith’s cock in hand, stroking it a couple times. He leans in and gives a little kitten lick to the tip, testing the waters. Immediately, Keith’s hips jerk, a sticky string of pre-cum connecting Lance’s lips to the source as he pulls away. Keith doesn’t even make an effort to hold himself back, immediately lifting his hips in search of more. Lance swallows hard, already knowing what’s coming, how brutally it’s going to overwhelm him getting fucked both ends at once. 

“It’s so big.” Lance sighs, biding his time. “Bigger than I remember.”

“It’s all for you, baby, go ahead.” Keith purrs, nuzzling Lance’s ass cheek.

“I want it inside of me so badly.” Lance tries again, desperate at this point. He’s not sure he can handle sucking Keith off while Keith eats him out, that’s a lot of pressure. He knows Keith will be rough, greedy with it the second he shoves his cockhead past Lance’s lips. “Please?”

“Show me how badly you want it.” Keith repeats, easy.

“Fine.” Lance pouts, squeezing his eyes shut as he leans in.

“That’s it, take me into your mouth, just like that.” Keith sighs as Lance’s lips wrap around the tip. He immediately starts shoving up into the sensation and Lance takes it, his eyes watering right from the start. He tries to breathe through his noise, inhales the salty musk of sex and sweat.

Keith wastes no time in digging in again himself, pulling Lance back in despite his whine of protest. He goes back to sucking at Lance’s rim, gentler this time, but a constant pressure nonetheless. It’s enough to have Lance reeling, the sensation of being licked open and having his mouth stuffed full in the same instant. He struggles to concentrate on both, to keep from coming from the thought alone.

He can only imagine how slutty he looks right now, sucking cock like he’s greedy for it, rocking back against Keith’s tongue to get it deeper inside of himself, his stretched and ruined panties clinging to him.

Keith just keeps thrusting into Lance’s willing mouth, short and rough, his cockhead repeatedly hitting the back of Lance’s throat and leaking there. Lance gurgles wetly around it, his saliva dripping obscenely down Keith’s length. He tries to swallow it down, but there’s such an excess that it doesn’t really do anything but stimulate Keith’s cock where it rests at the back of his mouth. Keith groans where his mouth is still working over Lance’s rim, shuddering underneath Lance. 

“Please?” Lance asks again, then drags his tongue over Keith’s length, curling it around the shaft to lick up the mess. It’s so big, Lance struggles to take it past his lips and keep his teeth shielded. He isn’t sure how it’s gonna fit inside his ass, only knows that he needs it to. 

“Fine.” Keith sighs finally, pulling back. Immediately, Lance rolls off of him and onto the mattress, staying on his hands and knees until Keith gives him an order to do otherwise. Keith sits up and gives him a fond look, eyes raking over Lance’s disheveled appearance. He’s starting to look more like himself already and Lance couldn’t be happier with the development.

Keith crowds in close to kiss him, meanwhile reaching down between them to slip a finger into Lance’s ass, already stretched and slick with saliva to an extent. The finger slips in easily, Keith pumps it inside, idly working up to anything more than that.

“There’s lube in the bedside drawer.” Lance gasps, as Keith hitches his finger and presses up inside of him at just the right angle. Keith keeps rubbing there, the pad of his finger digging into a place that makes him see stars. Lance’s hips rock needily against it.

“Why? Do you need it?”

“This is the real world, my body isn’t miraculously ready for it at any given time.” He makes a joke out of it, but he can’t deny the genuine fear that Keith will try to push inside without it anyway. Even the single finger sliding in and out of his hole is being met with resistance at the last knuckle, and Lance knows for a fact that Keith’s massive cock wouldn’t fit inside without lube.

“Could’ve fooled me. It’s already sucking me in. Begging for more.” Keith laughs, dark and amused, as he slides his pointer finger in deep again. Lance trembles in embarrassment. As slick as he feels, he also knows the spit and cum is drying against his skin, and it won’t stay that way for long. He debates pressing the issue, but he hears the telltale slide of the drawer before he can. He relaxes, relieved to see that Keith isn’t nearly as out of it as Shiro had believed he’d be.

Lance feels a slap on his ass and jumps, the sound echoing through the room. “Spread your legs, slut.”

Lance does as he’s told, gets on his hands and knees, bows his head to hang between his shoulders.

The cap of the lube bottle opening is the only sound in the otherwise quiet room, followed by slick sounds as Keith spreads it over his skin. Lance is growing antsy, rubbing his thighs together, hissing at the uncomfortable contact of lace pressed too-tight to his cock at this angle. Keith, miraculously, seems to just know what the problem is. He slides his dry fingers under the waistband and drags it slowly over the swell of Lance’s ass, dragging the panties down his thighs to settle around his knees.

Then, his other hand comes to Lance’s hole, slips two fingers in side by side right off the bat. Lance’s hips buck uselessly, a breathy strangled noise forced out of him. Keith immediately starts to plunge them into his body, no hesitation whatsoever.

O-Oh .”

“My beautiful slut. Doing such a good job. Feel so good around my fingers, can’t wait to get my cock inside of you.” Keith cooes, easing a third finger in alongside the first two. For the first few thrusts, he simply keeps them straight and pinned together, careful not to overwhelm. But at Lance’s body relaxes and stretches to accommodate the extra finger, Keith gets more daring. He spread them apart, curls them at that / just right / angle he’s got mastered. Lance fucking keens, entire body trembling. 

“Keith! More! Get inside me, I need-”

“I know, baby, I know.” Keith assures him, voice taking on an almost loving quality. He slides his fingers free of the tight hold Lance’s body had on them, wiping them off on the sheets as he shuffles closer. Lance can only see him at this angle if her contorts his body and looks back over his shoulder, but he trusts him enough to just shove his hips back and wait. 

He feels Keith press the tip of his cock to Lance’s rim a few seconds later, so slick and loose that it catches right away and threatens to start sinking in. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lance sighs, voice smooth and submissive, a smile almost audible behind the word.

Keith understands, wordlessly presses in closer and pushes the first inch of his cock inside. He doesn’t even feel any pain with the stretch, it’s just an immediate relief to finally have something bigger inside of himself after being teased for so long. Lance’s entire body feels like it’s on fire, a shot of pure pleasure sent straight up his spine. He moans like a whore, wrecked already and Keith isn’t even seated anywhere near fully sheathed.

“F-Fuck. Feel even better than I could’ve imagined.” Keith runs an appreciative hand up Lance’s spine, his hand shaking with the struggle to hold himself back. Lance nods, sinking back another inch, taking Keith deeper with a pleased groan. Keith leans over Lance, practically draped over him, chest to back, so close that Lance can feel each breath Keith draws. “So tight, I barely fit.”

They stay like that for a long moment, Lance adjusting to the feeling of being filled, Keith getting used to the vise-like grip around his cock.

“You can move now.”

“Oh? Can I?” Keith chuckles, a smile audible in his voice. He starts to move, gently easing backward and sinking back into Lance’s body with a surprising amount of control. Lance was sort-of prepared for the worst, so he happily pushes back against Keith and takes everything he’s willing to give him. If anything, Lance is starting to get impatient as the minutes tick by and Keith keeps barely fucking him, sinking in all the way and pulling all the way back out to the tip, inch by inch.

“I can take it.” Lance reminds him, shoving back against the cock in his ass. Keith chuckles.

“If you have complaints, all you have to do is voice them.” 

“Why do you always make me say it out loud?” Lance complains pitifully, a pout on his lips. Keith shows no signs of changing anything until Lance tells him to though, so he begrudgingly hikes his shoulders up around his ears and forces himself to voice it aloud.

“I want it harder , Keith.”

“Yeah? How hard?” Keith is just messing with him at this point, stringing him along, molding him like putty in his hands. Yet Lance plays into it anyway, relishes the rush of adrenaline it gives him.

Very hard.” 

“What a whore.” Keith gasps, low and theatrical, played up for the dramatics. Lance rolls his eyes, looking back at him over his shoulder. He purposely tightens around Keith’s cock, works his muscles to flex his ass back against him. Keith grins, wings flapping and stretching out behind him almost excitedly.

“Yeah. The biggest whore.” Lance’s voice is comically sultry now, like a cheap phone sex operator. He flutters his eyelashes back at Keith, blows him a kiss. “Now hurry up and fuck your whore, baby.”

Something sparks in Keith’s eyes, a challenge maybe, and then his lips curl back into a smirk.

All bets are off in an instant, as Keith slams back in with all his strength and nearly sends them both toppling over. Lance bears down on his hands though, holding them upright as Keith starts to finally fuck into him how he’d been hoping for. The pace is too much right from the start, Keith is humping him so fast Lance hardly gets the chance to feel full before it’s gone and back again.

Keith chuckles behind him, low and dark. His wings flutter and fold around them, tail clamping around Lance’s ankle and holding it out to the side, legs spread.

“How’s that, slut? You like getting fucked from behind? Like being taken like an animal?” Keith growls at him, his tone almost vicious. Lance nods to the best of his ability, fingers curling around fistfuls of the sheets and clutching on for dear life as Keith bucks against him. It’s rough and passionate, the tension between them sizzling heavily in the air. 

He fucks hard enough to make up for the weeks they’ve gone without. Hard enough for it to hurt.

But the hurt just reminds Lance that it’s all real this time, that this isn’t the fogginess of a dream he’ll wake up from. Keith is really here. Keith is actually fucking him within an inch of his life. 

So he presses back into it through the ache, grits his teeth and smiles when Keith bites at his shoulder, tries not to cry when Keith’s tail slithers too fast and slices through the flesh of Lance’s calf. He takes it all and is thankful for it, gasps and chokes around the words “thank-you” and “love you” so many times his voice starts to slip away from him. Keith is hardly paying any attention anyway, is totally engrossed in fucking another orgasm out of Lance’s body. Hungry for it.

“I’m close!” Lance cries out, just a few minutes later. He can feel the white hot blinding pleasure amounting under his skin, nearly burning in its intensity. Keith has a way of pulling it out of him, forcing orgasm after orgasm, knowing exactly what to do to get him there time after time. “Keith, I have to-”

“Go ahead, but I’m not stopping.” Keith replies. Simple. Blunt. Cruel.

“But-” 

“Shut-up and take what I give you, huh? You asked for it. You begged for it.” Keith reminds him, hand coming up to weave through Lance’s hair and grab a handful. He uses his grip to tug Lance’s head back, make sure every noise spills past his lips unfiltered and uninterrupted. Lance is making a near constant symphony of noises now, spurring Keith on.

“Ah! Keith!” Lance shouts as something hits just right inside of him, his cock jumping. Keith must know, he always fucking knows, because seconds later his hand is down there wrapping around Lance. He gets him off quick and calculated, not unlike how Lance used to get himself off when he lived at home and had to get the job done quick. Keith knows exactly how to speed him along.

Lance comes and his entire body clamps down around Keith, trying desperately to get him to stop moving so he can bask in his orgasm. But Keith keeps fucking him, even as Lance’s world topples out from underneath him, as pleasure so blinding he can’t even think straight envelopes his mind. He comes harder than he ever has, all over his stomach and Keith’s hand alike.

“Did you come all over yourself, baby?” Keith taunts, keeping up a steady pace even as Lance’s arms give out and send him face-first into the mattress. Keith keeps plowing him from behind, pounding into his ass so hard that the sound of skin slapping fills the entire room. Lance cries out, high-pitched and reedy, practically a wail.

He doesn’t stop either, continues shouting and moaning brokenly as Keith keeps battering his prostate with that same unrelenting pace, refusing to let Lance come down properly. He jerks Lance’s softening cock a few times, gathers the mess on his hand. “Lick it off your fingers for me, stuff them into that big mouth of yours and keep it busy. You’re waking the neighbors screaming for more.”

Lance opens his mouth obediently and Keith shoves cum-covered fingers past his lips, smearing the liquid across Lance’s tongue with a quiet huff. Lance mewls around them, the sound still loud and barely muffled, and Keith keeps fucking him through it still. Lance sucks on his fingers, even takes to biting at them when he can’t take it anymore.

And that’s when Keith’s other hand slides down Lance’s hip, following the V of his body down to where his spent cock is still covered in cum. Lance’s eyes go wide as Keith grabs at it, gives it a teasing squeeze, milking a few more beads of liquid from the slit. 

“Keith!” Lance spits his fingers out.

“What?” Keith feigns innocence, his other hand wrapping gently around Lance’s cock, stroking so lightly that Lance can hardly even feel it yet. He knows it’s coming though, that rough and stern grip, determined to get him off again. He’s not sure he can do it. He really doubts that he can.

His body seems determined to prove him wrong though, his cock twitching in Keith’s hold each time Keith sinks back inside of him. The pace he’s setting is unforgiving, driving his cock as deep inside of Lance’s ass as he can, each thrust seemingly stretching him open wider and deeper. 

“I can’t.” Lance chokes out through his teeth, gritting them to keep from biting down on his tongue as Keith’s brutal pace as him sliding against the sheets. “Not again. Not yet.”

“I don’t know, I think you could manage it.” Keith’s voice is sly, his grip unrelenting as it gives Lance’s poor, spent cock a couple tugs. Lance practically sobs in overstimulation, entire body tightening up and trembling. He makes no move to swat Keith’s hand away though, or even to vocally protest it any further, just stays still and lets it happen as Keith’s hand slowly urges him back to full hardness.

It’s a slow climb, every second of it pure torture. Keith is only a little bit mindful of how sensitive Lance is, not nearly as rough as he normally would be, but still determined and showing no signs of backing down any time soon. So Lance locks his legs in place and takes it, Keith’s cock and wandering touch alike, wet tears soaking his face. “I can feel the way you’re filling out in my hand. Getting hard again because you love the feeling of my cock stretching your ass open. Don’t you, baby? Huh, slut? Tell me how much you love my cock.”

“I love it. Love it so much, Keith.” Lance pants out, tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking dog, anything to gasp down air whenever he gets the chance. Keith practically punches it out of him with each thrust, short and hard, hitting him where he’s most sensitive to it. His cock is pounding into Lance’s body now, his rim spasming around Keith’s shaft, clenching and unclenching, uncertain whether to draw him in deeper or try to force him out. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Lance can feel himself slipping, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut the world seems to spin around him. “I-”

“That’s it.” Keith coaxes, pressing his face into the dip between Lance’s shoulder blades, breathing heavily against his skin. His hand is moving hurriedly over Lance’s cock now, jerking him carelessly, thumb mashing roughly against the head. Lance whimpers. “You’re so close, you can do it.”

Lance can’t do it. 

He’s convinced he can’t do it right until the second a particularly hard wave washes over him and his orgasm hits him out of nowhere.

He screams when he comes, so loud that he’s sure everyone in the apartment complex must hear it. 

Keith doesn’t even slow down, just keeps taking him apart, calculated and uncaring in the way he gets Lance off at any cost. That’s what he needs, after all. This is how he feeds. And Lance offered himself up like a feast to be devoured.

Lance feels himself slowly drift out of the moment afterward, caught in a strange headspace where he’s only barely aware of the way Keith’s cock keeps filling him, over and over again. It’s all he can do to remember to breathe. He isn’t sure when or how he fell asleep, but the next thing he knows Keith is stirring him awake.

“Hey.” Keith whispers, pressing fleeting kisses across Lance’s cheekbones. Lance’s nose scrunches in annoyance and he swats at him until he backs off, giving Lance time to come back to himself on his own time. He realizes almost immediately that they’ve switched positions at some point. He’s on his back with pillows braced underneath him, and Keith is settled happily on top of him, filling the space between his legs. Lance can still feel the slow and steady rock of Keith’s hips against his. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” Lance reasons, shifting a little bit, pressing his hips up into Keith’s. He isn’t nearly as sore as he expected, and the heat is back to a pleasant simmering boil, their pace slow rather than urgent and impatient. Keith is just flexing his hips into him, not even taking the time to make proper leverage to thrust, just grinding needily deep inside of him, barely pulling back out with each thrust. 

Lance spreads his legs wider in response, wrapping them around Keith’s hips and pulling him in. “Horny.”

Keith chuckles, reaching up to push his hair back out of his face.

“You’re always horny. Fuck, Lance. You amaze me.” Keith sounds so genuine, Lance can’t help it when his own face lights up in a flattered blush. He can’t hold eye contact like this, Keith is too pretty smiling and sweet, and too hot sweaty with sex hair. Instead, Lance looks down between their bodies, where his soft cock is trapped between their stomachs. The friction feels more painful than it does pleasurable whenever Keith thrusts in hard enough to rub their stomachs together.

Lance is pretty sure that he’s down for the count, ready to be pulled out of and cleaned up, maybe coddled a little bit. It’s been a long time since he’s had sex this intense, but Keith better have plans to stick around and take care of him afterward. He’s not taking no for an answer now that he knows.

He can’t bring himself to complain though, not when Keith is braced over him, looking so deliciously desperate that it has Lance’s mouth watering. His movements are getting sloppy and uncontrolled, and Lance can’t help but wonder if that means what he thinks it does for Keith.

“Have you come yet?” Lance asks, suddenly dying to know. He hopes he didn’t miss it happening while he was passed out, like he missed it so many times in his dreams. Keith gives him a knowing look, but he doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head wordlessly.

“Not yet.”

“Not even once?”

“I can more or less control it. I can hold on as long as I need to, to satisfy my partners.” Keith explains, though Lance finds it hard to believe with the wrecked state he seems to be in. His eyebrows are furrowed together, mouth hanging slightly open so low noises can spill past his lips, entire body flushed from overexertion. Lance can feel the cock inside of him, hard and twitching, knows it would be so easy for Keith to let go and come right now.

And what a thought it is, Keith shoving in deep and shooting off inside Lance’s ass, filling him with cum.

“Well, I won’t be satisfied until you finish.” Lance demands, wrapping his arms around Keith’s muscular midsection, hugging him closer. He rocks his hips back against each of Keith’s thrusts, arching his back into it so prettily. “Come on, Keith, I want it. Give me what I want.”

Lance .” Keith groans lowly, claws digging into the meat of Lance’s hips hard enough to draw blood and have it sliding down his sides into the bed. Lance doesn’t care, just gasps prettily and smiles up at Keith through it, encouraging. Keith ruts inside of him, whining to himself, the bed rocking under the force of his hard thrusts.

Lance figures he knows the second Keith starts coming, sees it in the way his eyes widen, almost like he’s surprised by it. He certainly feels it, in the way Keith’s thrusts become halfhearted grinds, and Lance is left feeling indescribably messier than before. Keith makes the prettiest grunts as it happens, little punched-out noises he can’t even begin to control. Lance revels in them.

Afterward, Keith collapses on top of Lance unceremoniously, without so much as a warning.

Lance can’t complain though, not as Keith’s wings drape across the bed on either side of him, his tail curling and jerking in the air behind him, almost like a cat’s. Lance smiles to himself.

Keith lifts his head a few seconds later and smiles back.

“You look better.” Lance observes lazily, as his hand settles atop Keith’s head. He runs his fingers through his hair, twirls the long strands idly around them. Inevitably, his casual act runs thin, and he can’t bring himself to keep from exploring. He fits his fingers around one of Keith’s horns, stroking curiously over it, tracing the pointed tip with his finger and finding it to be sharp enough to draw blood. Keith watches Lance’s face as expressions flicker across it, resting lazily on his chest and making no effort to move.

“I feel better.” Keith confirms. He seems loose and content in a way Lance can’t remember him ever being, like he could fall asleep at any second. “The best I’ve ever felt.”

“I don't know how to describe it, but this feels so different than all the other times we've done these things in my dreams.” Lance admits, hand circling down to cup Keith’s cheek. He lifts the demon’s head until their eyes can meet properly, thankful to see the same admiration and adoration reflected back at him in Keith’s own dark irises. They aren’t glowing anymore, so that has to be a good sign.

“That’s because it is different.” Keith says, as he snuggles in close to Lance's chest again and makes himself entirely at home there. His cock is softening inside of Lance, threatening to slip out, but Lance is trying to angle is hips to make sure it won't. He doesn't want to feel that cum leak out of him yet. “All those other times I just manipulated your thoughts to imagine us in all those positions, we weren’t actually-”

“We weren’t?” Lance can’t hide the surprise in his voice even if he tried. Keith looks the slightest bit sheepish, funnily enough. He shrugs his shoulders, looking down at Lance’s chest.

“You came untouched every time. I never physically put my hands on you.” 

“Oh.” Lance hums as he processes the new information. “And I take it I never put my hands on you?”

“We don’t need our own sexual satisfaction to feed, just the human’s.” Keith confirms with a nod, eyes falling closed. He lets out the quietest huff of a yawn, tilting his head until his bare cheek is pressed to Lance’s collarbone, skin on skin. It should be sweaty and uncomfortable, but it’s none of those things. 

Especially not when Lance is so distracted, hung up on a thought that had occurred to him just now.

“Did I just take your virginity ?” It’s supposed to come out as a joke to lighten the mood. It does not sound like a joke. It sounds pitchy and nervous, all-invested, like the world rests on the question.

“Ugh, Lance, virginity is such an archaic concept.” 

“But I did, right?” Lance presses, smiling too hard. “I’m the first one to get to touch you like this?”

“Yeah.” Keith relents finally, leaning in to press their lips together. He pulls back, but only far enough to stay leaning over Lance, staring adoringly into his eyes. Lance blinks back up at him, completely in his element underneath Keith. He couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be, or a person he’d rather be with. “The only one.”

“Hey, promise me something?” Lance asks. Keith nods tiredly, eyelids drooping. “Promise me that you’ll still be here when I wake up tomorrow.”

“I promise.” Keith says, taking that as his queue to collapse again, conversation concluded. He’s still splayed mostly on top of Lance, but he reaches for a pillow and props it under his head, because apparently Lance’s chest isn’t comfortable enough on its own.

“Really?”

“Really.” Keith nods, lips threatening to twitch up into a smile. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning and every morning after. I’m yours. My heart has always belonged to you, but now my soul does too. I’m not able to leave until you dismiss me, Lance, that’s how summoning works.”

“The other demon didn’t tell me how to dismiss you.” Lance says, an edge of worry to his tone. Keith just starts to laugh next to him though, bright and airy, almost relieved sounding. Lance starts to giggle along with him, the giddy atmosphere in the room contagious.

“Lance, I don’t want to leave.” Keith informs him with, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. Lance reaches up, ghosting his fingertips across the place he’d just been kissed, a dazed smile on his face. 

“Yeah? You wanna stay here forever?”

“I would love that.” Keith’s voice is so unmistakably soft. He props himself up on one elbow, staring down at Lance with something affectionate in his eyes, just begging to bust free. He worried his bottom lip between his fangs, looking sweet despite the demon features. “Lance, I… I love you.”

“You said it first this time!” Lance gasps dumbly, so shocked he doesn’t even think to say it back.

“I’ve always loved you, I just wasn’t sure if I was allowed to.” Keith explains, dark eyes looking to Lance’s, wide and imploring. Lance realizes belatedly exactly what he’s waiting on, even before he asks. Keith draws a heavy breath. “Do you… still love me?”

“Of course I do.” Lance leans in, kissing him hard, unable to fight off his smile no matter how hard he actually tries to. He pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “I love you, Keith, every part of you. Now that I know more, I just love you more.”