Disclaimer: Voltron is the property of World Events Productions.
Warning: Just in case you somehow managed to bypass the big warning on the way here: This story contains scenes including rape, violence, and suicide. If that kind of thing bothers you, you should probably stop reading right here.
Another day, another battle. Keith thought grudgingly, dodging the blasts thrown at him by Lotor's robeast. He guessed it was as good a time as any to form Voltron, but, just as he was about to give the command, he heard a shriek over the com. The princess! His heart leapt into his throat as he saw it. The blue lion was falling! In seconds, his battle instincts took over, and he was shouting orders through the com.
Lance was in a similar predicament, blood red blasts spiraling by him. He grunted deep in his throat, and took out another small ship. Then he too heard the scream, and saw the lion falling. He mind went reeling back to almost a year and a half before, Sven falling, screaming, and him powerless to do anything. He let out a choked sob... 'Oh god,' he thought, 'Was that me?' Keith's voice over the com jerked him back.
["Lance, keep these guys occupied, do it, now!"]
["Gotcha, Cap'."] Lance replied tersely, and, gritting his teeth, dove deeper into the fray. They had made the lion fall. It was their fault. Their fault! His anger grew, a roiling, snarling monster. His lasers ripped the ships apart, one by one by one.
["Okay,"] Keith again, ["They're in retreat. Let's go."]
He took another deep breath and tried to calm down, turning his lion and following behind the others, his mind still reeling. He wanted terribly for Sven to be here, he wanted to see him, in the flesh...even for a moment...oh, god he wanted to see him so badly! But he couldn't...not yet. Sven was still on Pollux...had only been there for a month now...Princess Romelle said he was still "recovering". Yeah right. He could tell by the something in her voice that she was lying. The bitch...he bet she wanted to bed him! Sven...his lover...he sighed. God dammit.
When they at last returned to the castle, a somber-looking Keith retrieved the unconcious princess from her lion. Lance watched, silent. Coran nearly ran out to meet them, and take the princess himself.
Later still, the princess was in the medbay, and Dr.Gorma was attempting to calm Coran, who was nearly out of his mind with worry. 'God,' Lance thought, 'He is so damn paranoid.' But, still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the elder man. After all, he had practically raised the princess by himself.
"Coran, Coran my friend," Gorma was saying, "Relax! It's not as bad as it seems...a minor concussion and a broken arm. It could have been much worse, you know that..."
"Yes, I do. Too well. I watched her parents die."
"I know that look. What are you going to do now?"
"I've made up my mind."
'This oughta be rich.' Lance thought, though he was, without a doubt, interested.
"Allura will not fly the blue lion again, ever."
"Coran...how are you going to tell them?"
"I'll announce it officially when she wakes up."
"If Allura's not going to fly the lion..." Keith whispered to Lance.
"...who will. I know." Lance finished. "Maybe...Sven can fly it again."
"Well, he seems like the best option, doesn't he?" 'Watch it, Lance,' Keith thought, 'I know what's on your mind. You're looking for your lover back, and what a perfect opportunity right here.'
"But why?!" Allura was, predictably, outraged by the decision. "Princess...you know why. The last surviving member of the royal family should not put herself into such danger! You could have been killed! Do you realize what that would mean?"
"I hate to say it," Lance spoke up, "But he's right, you know. Even a cat's lives have to run out sometime."
"But nothing, princess." Keith now, "He's made up his mind...and I have to agree. It's just too dangerous!"
"So, who's going to fly blue lion?" Pidge piped in.
"Yeah," Hunk rumbled.
"We will contact Sven."
"Romelle said he was still recovering..."
"It doesn't matter," Lance interrupted her, "we need someone to fly the lion, and he's the best option we have right now."
"So it's done." Coran said. "We will contact him in the morning."
"The decision is final."
'So, buddy boy, you're lover's coming back at last,' Lance thought, lying wide awake on top of his bed ,staring at the ceiling. 'What are you going to say to him?' I'll act normal when he arrives...then...later...' he shivered as he thought about later. 'Anyway, he's coming back...that's all that matters...I'm tired of empty memories, dreams that leave me cold and alone. I just want him here, warm, in my arms again. I want to hold him, kiss him, tell him that I love him. That's all...oh, I wish.......' Slowly he dozed off, a smile on his face.
"Commander?" a voice penetrated his foggy brain like a knife into butter.
"Unnf?" Sven grunted a reply. He wanted to sleep, like any sensible person would.
"Commander...there is a communication from Arus."
His eyes shot open, and he heaved himself up.
"Vhy didn't you say so?" he rumbled, rubbing his eyes, and running a hand through his hair.
"Nefer mind. Tell Romelle I'll be dere een a minute."
The servant left, and Sven rubbed his head, groaning. He hated all this formality. But, he did like the idea of a communication from Arus...Arus and maybe Lance? He shivered just thinking about it. The chance to see Lance again...it might take his mind off the way Romelle had been acting around him lately. She seemed to always be trying to get closer to him...too close, for his tastes, he mused as he dressed. He hated the damn uniform, too. Bah. He wished he had his old clothes...but, unfortunately, uniform was required here. He sighed, and started on his way.
Romelle was waiting for him when he got there. She liked him...he was tall, handsome, quiet. Perfect. Oooh, what fun they could have together...whether he liked it or not. She licked her lips.
"Yes." He nodded.
She pressed a button on the console.
"You're here." she said.
'Uf corse. Et's from mei friends. Kep qviet and open de damn com line!'
The line opened, after a rustle of static. It was Coran's elder face that greeted them.
"Your majesty, commander." He said.
"Yes, Coran," Romelle said sweetly, "What is the purpose of your calling?"
'Damn formality.' He thought.
"Allura is...no longer flying the blue lion."
This perked Sven's interest. He listened closer.
"We need the commander to return to Arus as soon as possible to act as a replacement."
Sven smiled, careful to keep smug triumph off his features.
"Uf corse, Coran. I vill come at vonce."
Romelle looked at him, as if to shut him up, but it didn't show.
"Yes, of course. Thank you, Coran."
Coran nodded, and ended the transmission.
The next morning, all were assembled but Allura. Lance had to force himself to breathe normally as the ship set down. The ramp extended, and he felt his heart pound. 'Oh, god...'
"Romelle..." Sven grumbled, running a finger around his collar.
He REALLY hated these uniforms now.
"Yes?" Romelle replied sweetly, glancing at him with a gentle smile.
"Notink. Let's go." He replied softly, taking a deep breath and pacing down the ramp.
"Commander," Coran smiled as he greeted the younger man, "Welcome back." "Thank yew, sir." Sven returned the smile, and looked at each of his comrades in turn. Keith, Pidge, Hunk, Lance...Lance. Lance caught his eye and flushed slightly.
"Yeah, it's great to see you again." This was Keith, extending his hand. Sven took it gratefully, as he did with each of his friends. Lance's grip on his hand was strong, and Sven saw in his eyes more than just a welcome between friends. 'He's butiful as efer. Oh, how I vish...' his thoughts trailed off as he heard Coran's voice.
"Come on, we'll get you settled."
Much later, after more greetings and an introduction to Nanny, Sven sat on his bed, staring contemplatively at the floor. He wanted almost desperately to see Lance, but he knew too well how dangerous it could be.
Still...he stood up, and looked at the door.
Lance was sitting at his desk, tapping his fingers on the heavy surface.
"Hmm..." suddenly he heard a knock at the door. He stood up and opened the door to see who it was. What he saw was Sven. He smiled broadly.
His lover smiled back at him.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Come in." Lance said, stepping back and gesturing vaguely towards his room. Sven ducked in quickly, and Lance shut the door behind him. Without warning he turned and wrapped Sven in an embrace. He pressed his face into Sven's shoulder, his breath coming in ragged sobs. Tears of utter joy slipped noiselessly down his cheeks.
"I missed you so much..." he whispered.
"I meesed yew too," Sven replied, gripping the other tightly. A few strands of dark hair tickled Lance's closed eyelids, feather soft. He didn't care what happened now, he held onto his lover almost desperately. He wanted him so much...wanted to touch him, taste him, feel his body close to his own. His voice was muffled slightly as he spoke.
"I love you."
"I love you."
Sven smiled inwardly. He loved his friend, had missed him so dearly, had cried out his name as blue-white blades slashed his body. And now, standing here with him, he was at a loss for words.
"I love yew, too." Was all he could manage. 'Yes, I love yew, more den yew know, dearest Lance. I vould die vithout yew. I vish I could stey here, vith yew, forever, my love.'
Lance nuzzled him affectionately, drawing his hands up to unbutton Sven's shirt. He drew his finger lightly down his lover's chest, over bone and flesh, and...he looked down. A rough black scar wove it's way down Sven's chest, looking like someone had painted a line straight down.
"Sven...what happened?" He asked, pulling back and looking Sven in the eyes.
His friend sighed. "Vhen I vas on doom, I vas....cut....et heeled, but de scar...." He trailed off, and looked at the floor.
Lance traced it gently, seemingly fascinated. He could take him right here and now... 'And risk getting caught?' a voice in his head asked him. 'Yeah...' He kissed his lover, drawing him closer still. Sven pulled back, uncertainty prominent on his features.
"What is it?"
"Get caught?" 'Damn. But he's right...'
"Well...we've both waited a year and a half...we can wait a little longer, right?"
"See you in the morning, then."
"Ja." Sven said this last a little mournfully, and Lance could tell that he didn't much want to wait, either. 'Oh, well...soon enough, Lance, soon enough.' He told himself. Sven turned and left, throwing a last glance back at Lance. Lance caught his eye, and winked. Sven smiled.
After he left, Lance flopped out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and licked his lips. Oh, but it was so hard to wait!
Dreams, he knew, as always. But maybe, this time, not so many nightmares, and not so much emptiness. He rolled over and stared at his alarm clock. 'Oh...oh, I wish, I wish...No! No more wishing anymore...he's here, now, and soon enough he'll be lying next to you. Warm, peaceful...willing.' He smiled to himself. Sven was willing, he just didn't act like it. God, but the bastard could fight! He shuddered with pleasure at his memories. He chuckled remembering when he'd accidentally hit Sven, almost knocked him out, trying to get him to stop struggling. He fell asleep smiling for the second time in two nights.
Keith lay awake, frowning. He didn't mind being alone-he often was-but still, he missed Lance trying to coerce him into screwing him. He sighed. He knew he should talk to Lance...but he just couldn't bring himself to it. And even if he could, what would he say? What could he say? Nothing, really. He loved his friend almost desperately, but, of course, with all his luck, Lance was taken. Tears gathered at the edge of his eyelids, and his blinked them back. There was nothing he could do. Lance belonged to Sven, and that was that. He whimpered low in his chest, sobbing silently until he fell asleep.
The next morning, after practice, Keith caught up with Lance.
Lance turned to face him. "Yeah?"
Keith glanced around nervously. "Lance...we...we have to talk..."
Lance nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I know. Your place or mine?" He grinned on the last, and Keith couldn't help but crack a smile at his friend's good humour.
"Sorry, Lancer, my place this time." He patted his co-pilot on the shoulder, and Lance laid his hand over Keith's.
"I know, Keith. And I don't know what we're going to do."
"I know I shouldn't feel this way...but I love you...and I don't want to lose you." Keith looked at his lover, and Lance saw the pain in his eyes.
Lance pulled Keith close. "The great and might captain of the Voltron Force doesn't know what to do? That's a first." Lance did his best to lighten the situation, but it was no use. Neither of them knew what to do, nor even if there was anything they could do. He felt awful. He should have thought of this before...but he hadn't. And now where were they? He sighed, the gasped, feeling his lover's tongue flick across the side of his neck. He pulled back.
"Just this once?" Keith asked him, a sharp edge of longing in his voice that cut deep into Lance. Lance peered at him, his breathing quickening with every second. He stroked his friend's cheek lightly, and Keith closed his eyes.
"Alright." He whispered, and pulled Keith into an embrace, tasting the other's mouth with his tongue. He stroked Keith's ribs, even as Keith drew them towards his bed. Without warning Lance hit the edge of the bed and fell, landing with Keith lying on top of him. The glint in his captain's eyes told him that there was no backing out now. Keith held him down, kissing him agressively, coming close to frightening Lance.
"I don't care..." Keith murmured low in his throat, "I want you, and I don't care if you don't like it..."
Now Lance was scared. Keith never talked like this; not even when he was half-crazy with lust.
"Keith...?" Lance whimpered. But Keith didn't listen. For the first time his tongue felt cold to Lance, and he struggled.
"Stay still..." Keith growled, clamping his mouth over Lance's. Lance jerked away, and tried to push him off. Keith glared at him, a dark look in his eyes that Lance had never seen before. Suddenly, Lance felt a sharp pain in the side of his head, then on his jaw. Keith had hit him, hard. Once he realized that, the physical pain barely registered with him. Keith was gentle, a kind, even načve person. Lance groaned, half with pleasure and half with pain. Keith's hands stroked him body, his mouth remained almost constantly over his.
Lance struggled, but weaker this time. 'Why is he doing this?' he asked himself. 'You know why,' his mind shot back at him, 'you ditched him! Face it, you ditched him!'
'I didn't mean too...' His panic grew sharply, when Keith stripped off his shirt, and ran his tongue lightly over his nipples. He was serious about this.
"Keith...Keith please...you're hurting me..."
"Shut up." Keith snarled vehemently.
"I said, shut up..." Keith reeled back and struck him again.
"Ah!" Lance barked sharply, his head knocked to the side by the force of the blow. He whimpered, and felt blood drip down his chin. He couldn't get away; Keith had him pinned here. 'Oh, god...please...let someone stop this before it gets any worse...' But no one came. Lance struggled and whimpered, but could do nothing to stop Keith. His mind flashed back to when he was a child, struggling and panicked as now, but pinned by a different man. 'He's no better than your step-father...think of that...' He breath caught in his throat and tears came to his eyes. He couldn't get away! In desperation, he cried out, a hoarse howl of animal terror. Quickly he cut it off, remembering what Keith had done before. But it was too late, Keith struck him a fourth time, and he was out cold.
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