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Lance hit the button on the panel and watched as the dark privacy panel slid back from the expansive windows in his bedchamber. He looked out upon his kingdom--well, his father's kingdom--and marveled at its expanse. From the bustling city below with its whitewashed stone buildings to the ocean sparkling in the west to the red desert in the east. All would be under his future rule.
"It's a glorious morning, don't you think, Shiro?" He placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. "Smell that fresh air!"
"It's after noon, Your Highness; the morning is over," Shiro replied. "And the windows are still closed."
Lance blushed and let out a nervous laugh. "Yes, I just mean I imagine it smells very fresh. Ocean air and everything."
"Your Highness, if you would please move away from the window."
"What for? I'm admiring the city's splendor."
Shiro's expression was pained. "Because it's my job to protect you, and standing next to the window in broad daylight is not safe. And also, Your Highness is still naked."
Lance turned then, fully exposing himself in all his glory to his knight. "Oh, so you noticed?"
Shiro grimaced. The Prince was beginning his flirtations rather early this morning. It had become the normal routine for them in the three weeks since the King had left with his cavalcade all bedecked in royal blue on his yearly procession through the kingdom. For some reason the Prince had zeroed in on him, and no matter how many times Shiro explained to him how inappropriate it was and tried to deflect his attention to the many lords and ladies who would gladly receive his amorous advances, Prince Lance persisted. Shiro had to remind himself that it was harmless as long as he did not act.
He clenched his hand against the thought of smoothing it over Lance's bronze skin. The King had given him explicit orders: protect his son at all costs during his absence. Shiro had given his sworn oath as a knight to do just that, and he would not fail. There had been disturbing rumours about an attempt on the Prince's life, and while Shiro had no concrete evidence to the whispers yet, he intended to remain vigilant at all times.
And that meant keeping himself under control. Shiro crossed to the windows, eyes scanning for possible threats before pressing the button to activate the privacy screen, shutting out the natural light. "Perhaps it's time to get dressed. You have obligations that must be fulfilled."
Lance pouted at him and Shiro wanted to suck and bite his bottom lip. The Prince leaned in, running a hand up his chest, which he gratefully couldn't feel through his armor; he had no need for added temptation. "Why don't you help me get dressed then?" Lance asked coyly.
Shiro sighed and took a step back. "My Prince, you have things to do today. You are old enough to dress yourself and I am not a chamber attendant."
The Prince stared at him and then scowled, turning away with a huff and disappearing into his wardrobe room. Shiro watched his pert little ass as he left and prayed for extra patience.
-----
Shiro's fingers drummed on the hilt of his pulse saber. Quite frankly, he was nervous. He was nervous the moment he had been assigned the duty of guarding the Prince with his life, but that had been nervousness over fulfilling his oath as a knight to the best of his ability.
Now he was just nervous because it felt like his charge was trying to kill him.
Prince Lance's initial flirtations had seemed silly and vapid, cute almost. (And almost like that of a virgin. Shiro laughed that thought off; he'd seen more than a fair share of lords and ladies eyeing the Prince, and he had no doubt Lance had taken advantage of that.) Shiro had written it off, but Lance had continued. Not only continued, but escalated the situation day by day. It went from winks to light touches to blatant sexual invitations, and now to full frontal nudity.
Shiro's hand tightened on his weapon. He really didn't need to be reminded of walking in on a very naked Prince. Didn't need to be reminded of sleep-tousled hair that he wanted to run fingers through, of dark blue eyes staring so straightforward at him, or of bronze skin that he imagined was soft as flower petals.
"So, what's so important on the agenda today?"
Shiro looked over and had to fight to keep his mouth from falling open. His Prince stood before him in a black, long-sleeved skin suit which was tailored to perfection on his slim figure. The breathable fabric clung to every part of his body and had intricate embellishments embroidered in gold thread. A long blue cloak hung off his left shoulder and his boots went up to mid-thigh. His hair was slicked back away from his angular face.
"Your Highness," Shiro said, voice gone rough.
The Prince's mouth quirked up, as well as a brow. "Like what you see, Sir Shiro?"
The use of his title hit him like a lightning bolt straight to his nether regions; Lance had never used it before, had always called him informally, and now Shiro was realizing just how much he liked hearing his title from the Prince's lips. He cleared his throat, trying to put his mind back on the right track. "You look regal, Your Highness."
The Prince approached him with a smirk on his face, cloak whispering across the floor as he walked. He stopped right before Shiro, head tilting up so he could look him in the eye. "Just regal, Sir Shiro?"
Shiro grimaced. Perhaps his face had given away too much, because it seemed that the Prince had discovered his weakness. "You have a lot to get through today, Your Highness," he said, changing the subject. "First you have a meeting to discuss preparations for your father's homecoming, then you have the weekly meeting with the heads of household staff. Also, Ambassador Coran has returned and would like to debrief you on his discussions with the Arusians."
Lance pouted, annoyed that the knight was trying to elude him once more. "All right," the Prince sighed as he pushed a stray lock back in place. "Let's get this over with."
-----
Lance drummed his fingers on the table, cheek cradled in the palm of his hand. His obligations were taking far longer than he wanted them to, and as far as he was concerned, there were better ways he could be spending his time.
He had spent an inordinate amount of time arranging things for the homecoming. Fielding questions on who to seat where and what type of flowers to use and how many layers should there be to the cake made his head hurt. Eventually it ended, but then he was shuffled about the castle to meet with the head chef, the head of security, the head of housekeeping. Hell, he probably even met with the head of the latrines; he wouldn't remember because it all blurred together.
He knew, ultimately, that he should be paying attention to things that were being brought to his attention and the orders he was giving; that was what a good leader would do, but his mind was elsewhere.
It had been three weeks since his father had left and Shiro had been put on his protection detail. Three weeks and a few days since Lance had been introduced to the most handsome person he had ever laid eyes on. Lance wanted him like nothing else he'd ever wanted in his life, and he thought it would be relatively easy; he thought he was rather handsome himself, and who wouldn't want to sleep with a prince? Even if it meant nothing to Shiro, he wanted to have him at least once.
Three weeks having passed meant there wasn't much time left. Soon his father would be arriving back in the capitol and then there would be no reason for Shiro to stay on protective detail. He would be moved on to some other duty, possibly out of the castle, or even to an outpost away from the city.
"Your Highness, are you listening?"
"No."
Coran huffed, twirling his mustache around a finger. "Well, that's not very polite."
"Sorry, Coran." Lance sighed. "How much more is there left to go over?"
"Oh, at least an hour's worth!" Coran answered cheerfully.
Lance groaned and let his upper body collapse onto the table. "Are you kidding me? We've been here for ages already!"
"Hmm, yes, well, that's what being royalty is all about: lots of boring talks. In fact, I'd say that they'll end up taking over at least seventy-five percent of your life."
Lance made a piteous face. "Can we at least take a break?"
Coran's eyes narrowed. "I dunno. Do you promise to return here and finish? On your word as a royal Prince? Swear on your father's life?"
"Yes!" Lance answered hastily and before Coran could say anything more, he bolted from the meeting chamber. He breathed a sigh of relief and swore to put all his effort into evading Coran for the rest of the day.
"All done?"
Lance let out an undignified shout before realizing that it was just Shiro behind him. He straightened himself and tried to save face, flicked at imaginary space dust on his shoulder. "Yes, all done for the day. Say, why don't we get out of here?" Without waiting, he took off down the hall as fast as his long legs could carry him, and Shiro followed. When he judged himself far enough away, he slowed his pace. "Were you waiting out there the whole time?"
"Of course, Your Highness. It is my sworn duty to guard you." The Prince hummed an agreement. Shiro noted the way Lance looked at him and then how his eyes darted away. A pained expression crossed his charge's face. "You've put in a lot of work today," Shiro said. "Why don't we go for a ride?"
"Are you offering me a ride, Sir Shiro?" Lance practically purred.
Shiro cursed his choice of words as he noted the sly smile that took over Lance's face. "I meant on the pulse bikes, Your Highness." Lance pouted, but muttered his agreement. They walked the wending halls until they arrived at the royal garage. Shiro watched the way Lance greeted the people working there, smiling and laughing, and seeing him like that made Shiro smile in turn. It was a well-known fact that the Prince loved to ride, and it seemed he spent enough time down here to get to know the garage's daily occupants.
They ended up in front of a multitude of bikes and Shiro had no problem seeing which was the Prince's. It was painted in a midnight blue with the royal lion insignia, sleek and powerful, buffed to a high shine and with extra booster jets attached. Lance patted it with pride. "Think you can keep up with me and Ol' Blue, Sir Shiro?"
"I'm not sure anyone could ever keep up with you, Your Highness." Lance smirked and went to unpin his cloak, handing it off to a mechanic who he struck up a conversation with.
Shiro ran a hand over another bike, this one less compact--it was a monster, rrally--and all in jet black, another fine specimen. He was admiring it when a niggling feeling hit him. He looked up across the garage and saw two men dressed as mechanics talking to one another, but they were staring straight at the Prince.
They were not friendly looks.
Shiro's heart beat faster as he stared at the two. They could be disgruntled laborers, but Shiro had a feeling it was more than that. He crossed over to Lance, all thoughts of a ride on the black bike vanishing. He bent to murmur in the Prince's ear. "We need to go, Your Highness."
Lance raised a brow. "I know you're excited, Sir Shiro, but we'll take off as soon as Frederick finishes the story he's telling me. Or are you that excited to eat my dust?"
"We're not going to be riding."
Lance opened his mouth, probably to make another innuendo, but Shiro tuned it out as he saw one of the men talk on a communicator. He unceremoniously grabbed hold of Lance's arm and tugged him toward the garage exit. "Hey!"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but we have to leave right now."
Lance fought against his hold. "I left my cloak!"
"It's not important right now." Lance struggled for a few more moments before relenting, but as soon as they were back in the castle proper, he yanked himself free.
"What the hell was that!"
Shiro took in the sight of his Prince petulant and angry and tried not to find it arousing. "I was protecting you."
"From what? Frederick? He wouldn't hurt a fly! And while we're at it, if you're protecting me, why not protect me from mind-numbing meetings with Coran?"
Shiro grimaced. "There are people out there who want to harm you, Your Highness. My only duty is to serve you."
The tension in Lance's shoulders eased. He stepped toward Shiro, placing his hands over the armor on the knight's chest and looked up through his lashes. "I can think of plenty of ways you can serve me, Sir Shiro."
The shocked look on Lance's face when he pushed him back pained Shiro, but he had to do it. "Your Highness, I'm being serious."
Just like that, the Prince's anger was back. "Did you ever stop to think that I'm being serious too?" Shiro's mouth fell open but no words came out. All he could do was watch as Lance turned on his heel and stormed away.
-----
Lance paced. He had been pacing for at least half an hour now and it hadn't solved any of his problems. He bit his thumb, teeth worrying at the flesh.
He had refused to talk to Shiro for the rest of the day, and just when it was becoming too hard to maintain the silent treatment, Coran found him and dragged him back to the meeting room. The plus side was that he didn't have to see Shiro, which helped keep his will intact. The downside was that he thought he might fall on a pulse sword to end the mind-numbing boredom.
Even after Coran had finished trying to decimate his brain cells, Lance had remained in the meeting chamber, and he had been pacing ever since. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He hadn't wanted to, but maybe he would have to be honest with Shiro. Maybe he would have to tell him--
The door to the meeting chamber slid open and Lance found himself staring straight at the object of his affection. "Shiro."
"Your Highness. Is everything all right?"
"Just fine," Lance said with a nervous laugh.
Shiro walked into the room and the door slid shut behind him. "You've been in here quite a while, and you need to get ready for dinner."
Lance swallowed. "I suppose I have been. Shiro, I..."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
Lance tried to hold on to his courage. "Shiro, I know who you are." At the knight's quizzical look, Lance took a shaky breath and continued, "Once, when I was about six, my father let me go out into the city with my nanny and a few guards. I had begged him for weeks and weeks to let me go to the marketplace; it looked so colorful and pretty from the castle windows. I was so excited. I had never been allowed outside the walls surrounding the castle. It was like magic." Lance reached up to brush back a few stray strands of hair, body full of tension. "I was told to stay beside the knights and not wander off, but I did just that. I was so distracted by all the sights and sounds and smells. And when I was alone, that was when they tried to abduct me.
"They were going to take me, but then someone saved me. It wasn't one of the knights who were escorting me. It was a boy." Lance finally locked eyes with the man across from him. "It was you, Shiro. You saved me. You fended them off until the knights could come, a boy with a stick. You were so brave." Lance crossed to the knight, reached out to grab his hand.
"Your Highness..."
"Please, Shiro. I didn't know it was you at first. I mean, when we met again. I never even knew your name." Lance reached out his other hand to touch Shiro's white lock. "Your hair was all black then. But I remember when you were given this scar..." His hand moved to touch it, but was stopped by Shiro's.
"Your Highness, don't."
Lance persisted. "I always wanted to meet you again, to thank you."
"Is that why you keep throwing yourself at me? To thank me?" Shiro asked.
Lance felt his face flush. "No. I just...really like you."
Shiro pulled his hand away from Lance's grasp. "It's true that I once helped you when I was younger, but that was a long time ago and we are from two very different stations. This is inappropriate, Your Highness. You need to stop."
"Are you kidding me right now?" Lance's voice quavered. "I'm pouring my feelings out to you, and you're..."
"I swore oaths, both to the brotherhood of knights and to your father, the King. I will protect you. I will not lay a hand on you."
Lance jerked back as if Shiro had slapped him. He searched the knight's face, but Shiro refused to look at him. "Screw you, Shiro," he bit out before storming out the door.
-----
Shiro let out a long breath and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. His hand tightened on his weapon as he cursed. He had trained his whole life to get here; every waking moment had been spent getting him to this position. After he had saved Lance's life, all unwitting to his true identity, the knights had taken him in as a squire as repayment for his valor. His life had begun anew then; he had a purpose.
He had never thought that the King would entrust his son to him. It had been a shock, and then he had seen Lance again. He had grown up to be handsome and svelte, if not headstrong and a bit frivolous. Shiro couldn't deny that he felt drawn to Lance.
But he was a sworn knight and he dreamed of one day being a paladin, one of the elite who guarded the King himself. If he didn't prove himself capable here then he would never achieve that level.
It was hard, though. Hard to keep his will strong when all he could think of was the way Lance would smile and laugh, his flirtatious glances and touches. He sighed at his idiocy and went to go after Lance.
Shiro was headed to Lance's room, trying to get his jumbled thoughts in order and rehearse what to say, when he passed Coran in the hall. "Ahhh, Sir Shiro, not joining us for dinner?"
"I will in a tick, Coran. I'm just going to get the Prince from his rooms."
"Well, you're going to have a hard time with that. Last I saw him, he said he was heading out for a ride."
"What!" Shiro felt the blood drain from his face.
"I know. I told him that skipping a meal is inadvisable, but did he listen? He's not very good at listening, that young man. Wait, Shiro; where are you going?"
There was no time to explain himself as he took off through the castle hallway. His Prince was in danger.
-----
Lance drove through the underground tunnel leading from the castle out to the desert beyond, the blue lights illuminating the way flashing by. Thoughts of Shiro kept trying to tumble through his mind but he pushed them aside as he revved the engine core and pushed Ol' Blue harder.
Screw Shiro. It wasn't like Lance had been emotionally invested or anything. It wasn't like he cared or he was hoping for anything to happen. It wasn't like he had idolized the nameless boy who had saved him for years and years and hoped to reconnect with him one day. Nope, definitely not that. It wasn't like Lance had been absolutely gobsmacked at how gorgeous Shiro was either. That he had about five million impure thoughts every day about him.
Quiznak! He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Shiro.
Finally he shot out from the dimness of the tunnel into the desert. The sun was setting, the sky a host of vibrant reds and oranges. Dust kicked out like wings from under the pulse bike's thrusters. Lance stood up, hands still on the handles, and breathed in the scents of salty ocean air and sun-baked earth. This was all he needed to clear his mind, to make him feel free of obligations and longings.
Only when he sat back on the seat did he notice the sound of other bikes. Ol' Blue purred soft like a kitten and these were noisy in comparison. Lance looked back over is shoulder to see the riders behind him. He sighed as he noted the color of the bikes; they were from the castle. He throttled back, slowing down so they could catch up. He had no doubt they were escorts sent after him.
Lance opened his mouth to hail them, and that's when they opened fire.
-----
Shiro pushed the engine core as hard as he could. He had ignored all protests as he had taken the black pulse bike from before and jetted off. It roared between his thighs. The blue lights whirred by; he felt like he was going through a wormhole. All he could do was pray against the dark thoughts that he would be too late.
He was momentarily blinded by the setting sun as he flew out of the tunnel. Once his vision settled, he saw them in the distance: six pulse bikes flying across the desert. There were five in pursuit of Lance.
Shiro sped across the desert as fast as he could with only one thought: protect his Prince at all cost. Lance was currently zig-zagging across the desert, trying to shake his pursuers. Shiro barreled straight for them. As soon as he was in range, he drew his pulse gun and laid down fire. He hit one of them, who flew from his bike. One down, four to go.
He was closer now, but that meant he was in range of their fire, especially now that they knew he was in pursuit. Two of them peeled off; he weaved through their shots, his bike responsive beneath him. He returned fire and hit another one of them, narrowly missed running the body over. The other had passed him and was doubling back around. Shiro looked under his arm and took aim, firing just as the attacker did. He shouted as a shot managed to hit his leg through a gap in his armor; the attacker wasn't so lucky as he fell from his bike, rolling through the dust.
Three down now; two left.
Lance was swinging to the left, and Shiro barreled straight toward them. He could hear Lance shouting now, though he couldn't make out any words. He fired a few more shots, and took two in the arm. His armor deflected them but they provided enough force to knock the gun from his hand. Shiro snarled and drew his pulse saber.
Shiro drew up alongside one of them and swung, but the man was prepared. Shiro's saber clashed with a sword, sparks flying. He parried and thrust, the two of them battling as they sped across the desert. Lance veered again, this time to the right, but Shiro and the occupied attacker continued forward, dueling furiously. Eventually Shiro found an opening and thrust forward, plunging his saber into his opponent's torso. The man screamed and lost control of his bike, and Shiro's saber was wrenched from his grip as the man went flying.
The knight drifted, kicking up a spray of dirt as he turned his bike. Lance was headed back in the direction he had come from. Shiro gunned the engine core for all he was worth and shot forward. The powerful black pulse bike roared beneath him, eating up space between himself and the last pursuant. As he drew closer, he realized he had no weapon now; he would just have to rely on ingenuity. Once he was almost abreast of the last assailant, he hit auto drive. He brought his feet up and under himself, coming to a crouch on his seat, and just as they were passing the body of the second man he had shot down, he lunged.
The impact knocked the wind from his lungs as he flew straight into the last man. He vaguely registered the sound of metal screaming as their bikes crashed, and then he was jouncing over the ground until he finally rolled to a stop. He groaned, every part of him aching. He moved to stand, but a shadow loomed over him. The last man stood above him, and he was staring down the barrel of a pulse gun. Shiro closed his eyes. This was all worth it; Lance would have been able to get away by now.
He heard the shot, but no pain came. He opened his eyes to see the last assailant crumple to the ground. There, some yards behind him and next to the body of the third downed assailant, was Lance, a pulse gun in his hands. Shiro let himself collapse as the adrenaline wore off. His Prince was safe.
Lance came running and fell to his knees beside Shiro. "Shiro! Shiro, are you hurt? Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere," Shiro grunted.
"Help is coming; just hold on!" Lance's distressed face hovered above him. "Please don't die!" he whispered.
Shiro grabbed his Prince's face between his hands and pulled him down for a kiss. Lance stared at him, dark blue eyes wide. "Not a chance, Your Highness."
-----
Shiro lay back on the plush mattress, surrounded by heaps of feather pillows and blankets. It was more luxury than he was accustomed to. The doctor had given him a clean bill of health and told him time would heal his bruises and bumps, and the shot to his leg had been relatively superficial. All he had to do now was rest.
Of course, that was hard with Lance flitting around him and fussing. His Prince had insisted he be put up in Lance's own bedchamber and that nothing else would do. Shiro lay back and watched him pace until the last servant had been dismissed and they were finally alone.
"Your Highness," he said, and Lance looked at him like a kicked puppy. "Come here." The Prince shuffled across the room until he was standing beside the bed. Shiro patted the place beside him and Lance sat obediently.
They were silent for a moment before Lance blurted, "Shiro, I'm so sorry. I should have listened. If I had listened, you wouldn't have been hurt."
"Hush," Shiro chided. "The important thing is that you're safe. I don't care about anything else." He lifted a hand to caress the side of Lance's face, who nuzzled into the touch.
"You saved me again."
"I'll always save you." Shiro pulled Lance down and kissed him. It was warm and sweet, and thankfully lacking all the dust that had been on their lips during the last one. Shiro moved his lips, enjoying the drag of skin against skin and feeling Lance breathe against him.
There had been pulsefire burns in Lance's helmet, several of them. He was lucky to be alive and Shiro savored each breath he felt ghost across his skin. His hand traveled from Lance's cheek until it was buried in his hair, fingers curling around the back of his Prince's head protectively as he opened his mouth and finally let his tongue taste him. Lance moaned as Shiro traced the tip of his tongue along his lips, a tease.
"Please," Lance begged, lips dragging against Shiro's. The knight wasted no time after that, plunging his tongue into his Prince's mouth. It was warm, wet, and tasted slightly of the tea Coran had made him drink earlier to calm his nerves. Not the best taste, but beneath it was the taste of Lance, which reminded Shiro of almonds. His tongue flicked over Lance's a few times before it finally moved and met his, and then they were brushing and rubbing together. Lance moaned eagerly as the tip of Shiro's tongue tickled along the underside of his. The room was filled with soft pants and wet smacks until Lance placed a hand on Shiro's side and tried to lean in farther.
The knight cried out gruffly, breaking their connection. Lance snatched his hand back after realizing what he'd done. "I'm so sorry, Shiro! I forgot that you're hurt."
"I must have done something right to make you forget that," Shiro joked, laying a hand over his bruised ribs. "Hey now," he said once he noticed the kicked puppy look coming back, "I started it."
"I guess this means we should stop." Lance pouted.
Shiro disagreed; no way was he stopping now. He had already come this far and broken all his rules. "Do you trust me?"
"How can you even ask me that?" Lance said, looking affronted.
The knight chuckled. "All right then. If you enter me, this might be doable. You'll just have to go slow." His Prince was staring at him like he'd grown another head. "What's wrong?"
Lance's face flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. "I had just imagined... I mean, when I had thought about this before, it was with you doing, you know, to me. And I'm not that well-versed in this kind of stuff. I mean, I know what goes where; I'm not that stupid. It's just that I've never really done anything before..."
Shiro felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He reached out and grasped the collar on Lance's body suit, yanking him forward. Lance yelped before Shiro's lips crashed into his, and then the knight's tongue became an unrelenting invader, plundering every corner of his mouth. Shiro ended it just as quickly as it had begun and ordered, "Turn around."
Lance hesitated before obeying. He felt a hand brush over his shoulder and then felt Shiro grab hold of his zipper and slide it all the way down to his lower back.
"Strip," Shiro demanded. Lance bit his lower lip and looked back over his shoulder. "Do it."
Lance began peeling off his body suit, and Shiro felt himself harden as he let his eyes wander over every inch of skin as it was revealed. Lance stood from the bed and with a coy glance over his shoulder, pushed his clothing down over his hips and thighs, then kicked it free from his legs.
Shiro reached out and smoothed a hand from between Lance's shoulder blades down to his lower back, feeling his Prince shiver at his touch. "Come over here and straddle me." Lance crawled onto the bed and hesitantly swung a leg over Shiro's torso. The knight steadied him with both hands on his naked waist, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles. He let his eyes feast on everything from Lance's brown nipples to his hard length to his long legs. "You're beautiful, Your Highness." Shiro let his hands wander Lance's torso; he couldn't get enough of that soft skin beneath his hands.
Lance panted as he was caressed and adored. "You don't have to call me that." He shuddered and moaned as fingers plucked at his nipples until they were erect.
"To call you anything else would be inappropriate, Your Highness." Shiro smirked at Lance's indignant look. He tugged the younger man forward as he leaned in, lips connecting with taut stomach. He heard Lance's breath catch as Shiro kissed his way across his body.
"I demand that you--" Lance moaned softly as a hot tongue began running over his skin. "I demand as your Prince that you call me by my name."
Shiro's eyes locked with his. "Indeed, you are my Prince," he rumbled.
Lance bit his lip at that tone. He opened his mouth to say something else, but two strong, large hands grabbed his ass, fingers kneading his flesh, and all thought flew from his head.
Shiro sighed in contentment; he finally had his hands on Lance's pert, round ass. He took a good long moment to fondle it, fingers squeezing and exploring, before he decided to really get down to business. "Allow me to make you feel good, my Prince."
"I already feel g--!" Lance's words died on a shout as the knight--his knight--drew him closer with the hands on his ass and took his cock into his mouth.
Shiro held Lance in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the hard length. When he flicked the bit of skin just below the head, Lance's hips bucked. Shiro hummed and proceeded to assault his Prince's sensitive frenulum, delighting in his lover's mewls. Fingers clawed at his shoulders and Shiro could practically feel Lance vibrating. He suckled at the head, drawing a few dribbles of precum onto his tongue.
He pulled free with a last suck and a wet pop. He stared up at the man whose taste was on his tongue, hands traveling down Lance's thighs and back up again to cradle the juncture between thighs and buttocks. "I need you to trust me."
Lance's brows knit together. "Are you kidding me right now?"
Shiro chuckled and scooted down a little bit more on the bed. "I want you to fuck my mouth."
The Prince's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Put your dick in my mouth and fuck it." Shiro smirked at Lance's discomfiture and mouthed at the hard length bobbing in front of his face.
Lance took a shaky breath and eased his hips forward; Shiro opened his mouth and he slid inside, inch by inch, urged forward by Shiro's insistent hands. He wasn't ready for the sight of his pelvis pressed against his knight's mouth. How was Shiro even able to breathe? He pulled back, hesitant, but Shiro urged him forward again. They fell into a slow rhythm.
Lance savored every moment. He was pretty sure Shiro's tongue was a national treasure; it seemed to be everywhere all at once, caressing every part of him. Lance whimpered and curled forward, bracing his forearms on the headboard in front of him. Shiro groaned around him, hands squeezing then separating his cheeks. Lance gasped as his hole was exposed to the warm air, and then a finger prodded him.
His hips surged forward and Shiro met it, sucking him down eagerly. Two fingers rubbed against his pucker and he lost himself. His hips pistoned forward and his knight took all that he gave. Every nerve was on fire; everything in his world narrowed down to wet, sucking noises and intense heat. He knew he wouldn't last that long under such sinful pleasure, pleasure like nothing he had ever known before. He kept bottoming out into Shiro's mouth over and over, racing toward ultimate pleasure.
When Shiro groaned around him like he was eating the best meal of his life, Lance went off like a canon. He buried himself deep and emptied himself into Shiro's mouth and down his throat. He knew he was keening, but all sound seemed so far away and muffled. When he was spent, he slumped sideways and collapsed on the bed, panting and ears ringing.
Shiro swallowed again, committing the taste of Lance to memory. He turned his head to stare at the Prince beside him as he swiped his fingers over his lips, wiping away drool. Lance's limbs were all akimbo, his back rising and falling like the waves of the ocean with his deep breaths. Shiro reached out and smoothed disheveled brown hair off his Prince's face.
Lance twitched and his eyes slid open. "Am I dead?"
"No." Shiro chuckled.
Lance rolled onto his side, a sleepy smile on his face until he noticed that Shiro was still hard. "Oh, you didn't..." Lance felt like an idiot.
"It's okay."
"No. I still want it."
Shiro opened his mouth to reassure him again, but an imperious stare kept him quiet. Lance crawled toward him and smoothed a hand over his chest. "Should I return the favor?"
Shiro smiled. "I have something else in mind." He could get used to that inquisitive puppy look Lance gave him. He could get used to seeing his beautiful face no matter what look was on it. "Straddle me, facing away."
Lance hesitated before doing as instructed. He took care not to jostle Shiro's bruised and battered body. He ran gentle fingers over a bruise on his knight's ribs, then down and over a long scar. His eyes traveled down to Shiro's erect length and he licked his lips nervously; he didn't know if he would be any good at it, but he was willing to give it his best.
He was just about to lean down when strong hands gripped his thighs and hauled him backward. Lance made an undignified noise and tried not to grab hold of the injured man below him. "Shiro, what are y--" He felt hot breath across his ass, the brush of lips against one cheek. He took a shaky breath as the lips brushed against the other cheek. "I'm serious. What are you doing?" Those strong hands separated his cheeks and he felt himself go weak in the knees and harden all at once.
"I'm going to drive you wild," Shiro growled.
The sound of that went straight to Lance's dick. He felt warm breath and then it hit, warm and wet.
Shiro's tongue.
His body instinctively tried to arch away, but Shiro's hands held him fast. His knight was so strong, blessed with all those muscles. He wondered what it would feel like to be picked up and pinned down, surrounded by Shiro. He really wanted to find out what that would feel like.
This was good too, though. Shiro's tongue swiped from his balls all the way up his crack and he was in heaven. Shiro repeated it a few times, laving him from bottom to top, coating him in warm, wet saliva. The strong, broad hands he loved so much kneaded against his ass, kept him wide open for Shiro and his clever tongue. A tongue which was currently flicking against the most hidden part of him. It circled like a shark and then went in for the kill, plunging hard. Lance moaned, thighs quaking as Shiro worked him, turning his body into a furnace again. It went on a few moments longer before his knight pulled back and Lance whined pitifully.
The first smack made him jump forward but a hand pulled him back. "That was for ignoring me telling you to stay away from the window this morning." Another smack, this one stinging harder than the last. "That was for giving me trouble when I told you the first time that you weren't allowed to go out on a ride." The third slap made his skin feel aflame, the heat spreading through him. "That was for ignoring me and pouting half the day."
"Shiro," Lance moaned.
Shiro's other hand smoothed down Lance's back before smacking his other cheek. "That was for being stupid enough to go out there alone." Another smack, harder. "That was for almost getting yourself killed." Again, even harder. "And that was for almost getting me killed."
Lance let out a choked cry as a perfect set of teeth bit into his tender flesh. "And that was for tempting me to break all my rules," Shiro rasped out.
Lance wanted to argue with that statement, but Shiro's mouth was back on him, and how could he possibly put two thoughts together when that was happening? He trembled as Shiro's tongue created magic through his nerves. Then hands reached up, grasped his hips, and yanked him down. Lance tried to pull away, worried he was crushing the man below him, but Shiro held him firm.
How could Shiro breathe like that? Lance was sitting on top of him, breathing him in, tasting him, and his balls were resting up against the underside of Shiro's jaw. Then Shiro's tongue was prying at him, trying to get inside him, and he didn't give a damn how his knight was breathing, just that he kept this up and didn't stop.
Shiro groaned, happy with the task at hand, which was to drive his Prince wild. His fingers dug into the beautiful ass on top of him, kneading the flesh he had just abused. His tongue assaulted the puckered flesh above him. Lance was so tight; he needed to be eased open. That excited him more than anything: being the first to kiss and lick and suck Lance anywhere and everywhere.
Eventually he broke through and penetrated Lance, felt triumph as his Prince moaned and pressed down against him. Shiro encouraged it, squeezing the round buttocks currently pressed against his face. He drank in the moans and mewls as he lost himself in pleasuring his Prince. Lance was so responsive and soft, wiggling on top of him; he could eat him up forever.
But then a hand was on Shiro's cock and he pushed Lance up and away with a gasp. "That's cheating," he ground out as the hand slid up his cock. He hadn't realized how close he was to popping.
"I'm gonna make you feel good too," Lance replied petulantly.
"All right. Do you have any lube?"
Lance looked over his shoulder, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he nodded. He swung his leg over Shiro and left the bed, heading for an armoire. He opened a drawer and came back with a bottle.
Shiro smiled and patted his lap, enjoying the sight of Lance crawling back over it, straddling him, tall and lean. He took the bottle and pumped lube onto his fingertips, kept eye contact as his hand went between Lance's legs, palm caressing his balls as slick fingers went straight for his relaxed hole. Lance sucked in a breath, eyes never leaving Shiro as one finger slid inside. The knight watched his Prince's pupils blow wide as his finger moved in and out. He watched the quiver of Lance's lip as he slid in a second finger beside the first, pumping softly.
He was surprised when Lance moaned for more, so he buried his fingers to the hilt and spread them. Bronze thighs trembled to either side of his waist; he watched Lance's eyes go hooded, his breathing pick up. A third finger entered and bronze thighs began to shake. Lance made little animalistic noises that made Shiro's dick ache; he needed to be buried inside his Prince with something other than fingers.
Lance tried to grab for his hand as he pulled it free, but he hushed him. He gave the lube bottle a few more pumps and reached down to slick up his cock, which pulsed under his touch, more than ready to be put into action. With one hand he pointed his eager cock upward as he slid the other up Lance's thigh. "And now, my Prince, it's time to put you to work."
"Me?" Lance asked weakly. He wasn't sure he even knew how to use his limbs, but the way Shiro was treating him, he would do anything for him.
Then Shiro's hand was smoothing up to his pelvis, pushing him backward until he felt something warm and blunt bump up against the lower curve of his ass. His breath hitched as it traveled up and between his cheeks to push against his hole.
"I want you to sit on me," Shiro instructed, eyes dark, "and ride me like I'm your pulse bike."
Lance swallowed. Holy shit, he didn't think he could do that, but he was going to try. He would try anything as long as Shiro kept staring at him like that and using that tone of voice. He shuffled a bit on his knees, trying to calm his nerves before he started pushing down. It was an alien feeling, strange, not wholly unpleasant.
He changed his mind as soon as the head of Shiro's cock began to breach him. It hurt, and it was a lot less easy to take than a few fingers. Shiro must have noticed, because suddenly his fingers were entwined with Lance's. "Just take it slow," Shiro said.
Lance huffed. It seemed like Shiro had the upper hand this whole time, and Lance wanted to turn his world upside down like Shiro was doing to him. So he stared down at his knight as regally as he could and told him, "I don't take orders from you, Sir Shiro." Then he plunged himself downward, impaling himself on the stiff length below.
The pain was worth the look on Shiro's face, shock and heat entwined. The fingers locked with his tightened with almost bruising force. Lance panted, trying to catch his breath as his body reeled from the sensations overloading it. His hole burned from stretching so wide, trying to accommodate his body's invader. "What, have nothing to say to that, Sir Shiro?" Lance taunted, trying to distract himself. The cock inside him jumped, making him gasp as it pushed against his insides. "That name really pushes your buttons, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Shiro groaned.
Lance squeezed Shiro's hand. He experimentally hitched upward, just a little, then came back down, trying to get a feel for it. Shiro sighed beneath him, clearly enjoying it, so Lance did it again and again, growing braver each time. The ring of muscle at his entrance stung, but the rest of it felt good. Shiro's cock was finally inside him, touching him deep inside, and that was enough for him to will away any pain. "Does it feel good for you?"
"Better than good, my Prince." One of Shiro's hands came up to caress Lance's cheek.
Lance sighed contentedly, nuzzling into the calloused hand as he began to move again. The fire started to burn inside him again, stoked by the intimate touch. Shiro's eyes on him added fuel as he moved up and down rhythmically, almost caught in a trance. He had to pause to readjust his positioning after a while, legs cramping.
That's when it hit him on the next downward movement; Shiro's cock hit something inside him that made him see stars. It didn't take him long to want to do it again, Shiro's cock shoving against that sweet spot. His head fell back as he let out a long moan.
The sight of Lance above him, riding him, was exquisite. His beautiful throat was exposed when his head tilted back; Shiro wanted to bite and suck until his marks covered it. Shiro wanted to put him on his back and overpower him, thrust until the shape of him was permanently imprinted inside his Prince. His injuries held him back, so he would take this until he recovered. He reached out and took Lance's bobbing cock in his firm grasp.
Lance's back bowed, his ass pressing down hard against Shiro's pelvis. Strong legs squeezed against his sides, making Shiro grunt in pain. Not enough pain to make him stop, though. He only took a moment to grab the lube, slick up his hand, and go back to work. Lance seemed to appreciate the ease with which his hand moved now, hips rutting up into his touch then back onto his cock. "That's it, my Prince," Shiro said. He watched the leaking head of Lance's dick as it slid through his fist. "Keep going."
"I told you...not to tell me...what to do, Sir Shiro," Lance gasped out.
"So you did." Shiro grasped Lance harder, the pad of his thumb pressing into the underside of the dick in his hand. He soaked in the shivery little moans his Prince let out, marveled at the way his naked body writhed, covered in a sheen of sweat. "That's it, my sweet Prince. I want you to come with my dick inside you."
Lance whined and bowed his long body over Shiro, fingers desperately grasping at his shoulders. His Prince was bucking and grinding in a frenzy, clearly at the edge now, and Shiro was ready to push him over it. "Come for me, Lance."
Just calling his name was the catalyst Shiro knew it would be. Lance shook on top of him, crying out Shiro's name as he came. Shiro felt Lance decorating him with warm stripes of cum, and as much as he wanted to watch, his eyes were glued to Lance's face. The slack mouth, the knit brows, the hooded blue eyes staring right back. He milked his Prince through his orgasm, wet and hot, until Lance was mewling from too much stimulation.
Shiro gave him a moment to recover, smiled as Lance's dazed eyes met his when he brought his legs up, planting his feet firmly on the bed. "I'm going to fuck you now," Shiro told Lance bluntly, and then he began to thrust.
Lance gave a startled cry as Shiro made good on his word and reminded him that his knight was still buried inside him. Shiro's hips showed no mercy, pistoning upward furiously, much faster than Lance had been able to go. He reached back, hands bracing himself on Shiro's knees for support. Shiro speared into him, into his insides, split him open, and Lance loved being fucked by him. He felt the power of Shiro's body, wondered what it would be like if Shiro was on top of him; his spent cock ached at the thought.
Lance moaned as Shiro grabbed hold of his thighs, fingers digging in as he fucked faster, harder. Lance bounced on his knight's lap like a rag doll, completely at the mercy of his knight and the cock inside him. "Come for me, Sir Shiro," he begged, needing to feel it.
Shiro groaned long and low, fingers digging in hard enough that Lance knew he'd be sporting bruises. His eyes widened as he felt Shiro grind deep then swell inside him, and then he was coming.
Lance moaned high and breathy along with Shiro's deep grunts as he felt his knight flood his insides with cum. He had wanted this so badly, felt like he was in the clouds now that he had it. Shiro was lodged inside him, filling him with his seed while he was covered in Lance's own.
It was over too soon for Lance's taste. Shiro gave a final grunt, hips rolling up one last time before pulling away, his softening cock coming free. Lance groaned at the loss, abused hole twitching and trying to tighten back up. The Prince yelped as a hand grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down, hard lips meeting his own. He moaned as Shiro's tongue plundered his mouth, claiming it again before strong hands tumbled him sideways onto his bed, and then his knight's broad body was hovering over his own. Shiro kissed him again, soft and sweet before pulling back. Lance stared up into dark grey eyes as Shiro touched his face; he nuzzled into the calloused touch.
"I hope you realize you'll never be rid of me now, my Prince," Shiro murmured, a soft rumble.
Lance laughed, shooting him a cocky smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my knight."