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heat of your skin

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Keith is so fucked.

He’s been restless all weekend, his dreams have been keeping him up, and he’s so damn warm he can barely tolerate his clothing. It’s been years since he’s been through this, but there’s no mistaking the signs; he’s going into heat.

While Pidge assured Keith that her attempts to reverse engineer more suppressants from his last dose are going well, it’s taking longer than expected due to the lack of resources so far away from Earth. Keith trusts that she’ll get it done; Pidge is the only other omega on the team, and while she’s not likely to go through her first heat for a while, it doesn’t seem like they’ll be going back to home any time soon. Pidge will need the suppressants eventually; Keith needs them right now .

He curses when heat surges through him, tapping at the panel in the wall to lower the temperature in his room even though he knows it’ll do little to help. He presses his forehead against the cool wall when arousal begins coiling in his stomach, making his skin itch with the urge to be touched. Keith doesn’t need this right now; he can’t afford to be out of commission for three days because of his damn heat. The universe can’t afford it.

“Keith?” someone calls from outside the room, and hell no , Lance is just about the last person Keith wants to be anywhere near him right now; and not for the usual reasons. Even muffled through the door, Lance’s voice is enough to have him dripping slick, making his underwear uncomfortably damp.

“What do you want?” he says, voice hoarse. His attraction to Lance is hard enough to deal with on a day-to-day basis; with his hormones jacked up all he can do is clench his fists and try to keep himself from begging Lance to fuck him.

“You don’t sound so good, man,” Lance says, and Keith bites his lip because Lance sounds so genuinely worried that it’s hard to be mad at him for something he doesn’t even know about. “Hunk said you were sick? I brought dinner up.”

The door slides open before Keith can say anything, because of course he forgot to lock it, and Lance walks in carrying a tray covered in food. “I’ll just leave this here - you should eat if you get hungry,” he says, walking towards Keith’s desk. He doesn’t seem to notice anything weird, then Keith shifts his weight, actually feels it as more slick leaks out onto his clothing, then Lance freezes and stops breathing.

“Keith,” he chokes, hands shaking as he places the tray on the desk with care, before turning around so that they’re face-to-face.

“What,” Keith forces out.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Lance says, and that’s it. Keith is so done .

“No,” Keith says, his voice flat, “No I’m not.”

Lance doesn’t move as Keith approaches, his fingers twitching with every step Keith takes towards him. Lance looks mildly terrified, but Keith can see the flush that’s rising on his face, can see his nostrils flare and the way his jaw tightens every time he breathes in.

“I should probably go,” Lance croaks, but he doesn’t make a move to leave.

“Don’t,” Keith says, and he wants to kick himself for how breathy his voice sounds, but when he presses his face into the crook of Lance’s neck and breathes in his scent he finds he doesn’t really care. Lance smells woodsy and a little sweet, with a hint of musk that makes Keith’s mouth water. Lance is still stiff, twitching every time Keith’s nose brushes against his skin.

“Look, I really think I should leave, you smell amazing and this is a really bad idea-”

“Shut up,” Keith groans, because feeling Lance’s body pressed against his does more than just make the coil in his stomach tighten deliciously in anticipation; it makes something small and warm and satisfying bloom in his chest, and he doesn’t think he could pull himself away even if he tries. “This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t have such shiny hair and smooth skin and if your smile wasn’t so nice so can you just. Shut up .”

Keith isn’t really keeping track of what’s coming out of his mouth anymore, but he probably said the right thing because Lance finally relaxes against him, his hands moving to rest tentatively around Keith’s waist. “You think my smile’s nice?”

“Oh my god .” Keith doesn’t look up but he can already see Lance’s stupid, smug, fond smile, and he’d threaten to punch it off of his face if another wave of heat didn’t rush painfully through him, making him gasp and so much slick leak out of his hole that it’s starting to drip down the inside of his thighs. Lance’s fingers tighten, digging into his skin, and Keith whimpers as Lance’s scent grows heavier in response to the smell of Keith’s own arousal.

Keith reaches up to wrap his arms around Lance’s neck, pressing their lips together just as he cants his hips into Lance’s thigh with a whine. The pressure sends sparks of pleasure over Keith’s skin but does little to relieve him, his hole clenching around nothing.

“You should push me away right now,” Lance starts, his voice thick, when one of his hands moves to cup Keith’s ass “If you don’t want me to keep touching you.”

Keith groans because when is Lance going to take a fucking hint , shifting so that his cock is pressing against the hard bulge in Lance’s trousers instead of his leg, then Keith is being pushed back, back until his legs hit the edge of his bed and Lance is leaning over him with something fierce and hungry in his eyes. Keith shudders, tipping his head back to bare his neck and moaning when Lance’s teeth graze the sensitive spot under Keith’s jaw.

“Clothes off,” Lance grunts against Keith’s skin, lingering for another moment before he pulls away and takes off his own shirt. Keith can’t get his own clothing off fast enough, and the relief of the room’s cool air touching his skin is nothing compared to the knowledge that he’s finally going to sit on an alpha’s knot. His hole is weeping slick, his thighs soaked with it, breath hitching when he realises that Lance is watching him with blazing eyes and a hand wrapped around his own cock.

He’s back on Keith as soon as Keith tosses his boxers to the side, biting at his neck, palms roving over every inch of his body. Keith feels like he’s going to evaporate into nothing from the heat rolling inside him, then Lance pulls his legs apart, slips two fingers into him, and Keith sobs as his hole stretches easily to accommodate them, keening at the first real taste of relief since his heat started.

Lance fingers him, not gently, pressing the pads of his fingers hard against Keith’s prostate and adding another a few thrusts later. The stretch is perfect but it’s not enough, makes Keith feel even emptier because he needs a cock inside him, needs to be plugged up with a knot and pumped full of seed.

“Lance,” he breathes, “Lance, please .” Something in the back of his mind tells him he’s going to regret that later, but he can’t be bothered to care right now when all he wants is to be fucked into the mattress. Lance only growls, leaning back until he’s kneeling between Keith’s legs. He grabs Keith’s ankles, lifting them until Keith’s knees press against his shoulders and he’s spread open, exposed completely.

Keith groans at the first press of Lance’s cock against his hole, trying to cant his hips down into it but unable to move with Lance holding him in place. Lance’s cock pushes into him in a slow, torturous slide, and by the time he’s in to the hilt Keith is mad with desperation. When Lance pulls back and thrusts hard, cockhead brushing against Keith’s prostate, Keith gasps and comes with a yell, his cock spurting all over his chest and up to the crook of his neck. Lance doesn’t falter, just fucks him through in an unrelenting rhythm that has Keith scrabbling at the sheets and mewling a constant stream of pleas and praises that he forgets as soon as the words roll off of his tongue.

Keith comes again with a yell, back arching up off of the bed with the intensity of his orgasm, and Lance groans hoarsely, letting go of Keith’s ankles to lean forward and cage him between his arms, capturing his mouth in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. Keith wraps his legs around Lance, feeling his muscles tense every time he thrusts forward, then he feels the base of Lance’s cock start to expand, start to stretch him open more and more.

“Oh god yes, please ,” he says with a gasp, “Your knot, please.”

Lance growls, withdraws completely and Keith is crying out, hysteric at the loss of his cock, fingers scratching at Lance’s skin. He barely registers being flipped over, delirious with need, then Lance’s cock presses back into him from behind and he’s sobbing as he comes hard; writhing when he feels Lance’s still-growing knot press against his hole and push in slowly, the pleasure-pain of being stretched open around it so good it’s almost unbearable. Keith comes again when all of the knot slips all the way inside him, drooling at the feeling of it still growing, putting pressure against his walls.

He feels it when Lance starts coming himself, the first spurt of his seed that sears hot inside Keith; he cries out when the sensation triggers another orgasm and has him painting the already-soaked sheets with come. Lance is still coming, Keith’s hole squeezing rhythmically around his knot, milking him for more. It feels like it doesn’t end, Lance pumping him with so much that Keith feels physically full, feels the pressure of it plugged in by Lance’s knot.

Finally Lance slumps forward against him, breathing harshly. He presses a soft kiss to the nape of Keith’s neck and Keith shudders, barely keeping himself from begging Lance to bite down, to mark him and claim him as his mate right then and there. Instead he moans, leaning into the press of Lance’s mouth, savouring the feel of his lips and tongue as they move down to his shoulders and back. Lance moves so that they’re laying on their sides, still connected, and Keith sighs as Lance continues peppering kisses onto his skin, hands rubbing soothingly up and down his sides.

It takes several long minutes for Lance’s knot to deflate, and when he pulls out Keith gasps at the way come gushes out of his hole, spilling out onto his legs and the sheets. He hears Lance’s breath hitch, feels him slip two fingers inside him, and he realises Lance is pushing his come back inside and Keith moans helplessly, cock twitching despite his exhaustion.

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance says, voice strangled, and Keith cranes his neck to look at him for the first time since being knotted. There’s a flush high on Lance’s cheeks, something in his expression so soft and reverent that Keith struggles to swallow. When Lance meets his eyes his entire face flushes and he buries his face into Keith's hair with a surprised squeak.

Keith chuckles, because of course Lance is embarrassed - even with his fingers buried in Keith’s ass.

“Are you laughing at me?” Lance says, the false affront in his voice not quite covering up the undercurrent of affection. “You were the one drawn in by my ‘shiny hair and smooth skin and nice smile,’”

“Sure,” Keith says with a roll of his eyes, “Cause you didn’t think I ‘smelled amazing ’ or anything like that."

“I wasn’t the one begging to be knotted-”

“Lance, I fucking swear to god ,” Keith growls, turning over and grabbing roughly at Lance’s shoulder.

He forgets the threat he was about to make when Lance presses their lips together and wraps his arms around him, but he can’t really find it in himself to mind.