Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s not like they haven’t been trying. They have sex. Maybe not a lot of sex, but enough. At least, that’s what Allura thought, right up until their meeting with the reproductive endocrinologist.

“Well,” Shiro says, as they exit the fertility clinic, “at least we know what to do next.” His face is still red from having to explain that they only have sex about once a week to a stranger. And that’s when they’re having a good week. When they first met, Allura would have found that adorable. She’d have laughed and taken Shiro’s head between her hands to kiss all over his burning face. Now, the thought doesn’t even occur to her.

Allura gets behind the steering wheel of their car - a painfully clichéd silver station wagon - but doesn’t start the engine yet. She waits for Shiro to take his seat next to her before saying, with all the fake cheer she can muster, “Jup! Just have lots of sex! Should be easy enough.”

The sarcasm in her voice isn’t lost on Shiro. He places a hand over one of hers and carefully loosens her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Honey,” tenderly, he holds her hand in both of his, “what’s wrong?”

In the face of his worry, Allura can’t find it within herself to stay annoyed. She deflates, her previous irritation forgotten. “There has to be a reason we haven’t been having enough sex, right? What if…” She hesitates, looking down at her hand in Shiro’s before meeting his eyes again. He meets her eyes without hesitation, waiting patiently for her to continue speaking. “What if it’s not something we can just fix?”

“Allura,” Shiro says, sounding very serious, “I love you.”

Confused, Allura says, “I love you too, but-”

“I. Love. You.” Each word is punctuated with a kiss to the tops of her fingers. Her stomach starts tingling, reminding her that what she said before is true. She really does love Shiro, as much as she did eight years ago, when she agreed to marry him.

“We’ll get through this, alright?” Shiro continues. “We’ll get through this, together. And if this is something we can’t fix by ourselves, then there’s always couple’s therapy.” Allura’s stomach flips at the mention of couple’s therapy. She’s always felt like that was something people only did when there was something seriously wrong with their relationship, which is not the case for them. Shiro feels the same, she knows, so it’s more than a little surprising to hear him mention therapy so casually. “It doesn’t change the fact that we love each other, right?”

“Right,” Allura huffs the word out in a laugh. She tries to put all of her anxiety and fear in that laugh, tries to let go of it as best she can. “We can do this.” Then, just because she can, she leans forward to kiss her husband right there, outside the fertility clinic. It’s a kiss that lingers without deepening. When she pulls away, both of them are smiling these big, goofy grins and for a moment Allura really does believe they’ll be okay, just like that.

They are not, in fact, okay, just like that.

Sure, the first couple of days after their meeting at the fertility clinic, things are pretty lively. They have a lot more sex than they have the past couple of months, though it’s still nowhere near the amount they used to. There’s still something lacking, Allura thinks. She just doesn’t know what.

“Passion,” Pidge declares confidently, when Allura explains the problem to her after their weekly yoga class. They both hate the stuff, but Shay loves it, and they go along to support her. Shay doesn’t have to know they visit a nearby café to stuff themselves with greasy french fries after she’s left.

“What?” Allura asks, absently sprinkling some vinegar on her fries. Some of it gets on her shirt, but she doesn’t bother wiping it off; she’ll put it in the wash as soon as she gets home, anyway.

Pidge pushes her glasses a little higher up her nose. “You two are missing passion. That’s why the sex is so boring.” A smug smile graces her face. “Don’t worry. It’s pretty normal for couples in their thirties.”

“You’re thirty-one,” Allura reminds her.

“Ah,” Pidge points a finger straight up in the ear, the way she always does when she’s about to present a fact that, in her words, ‘changes the game’. “But I’m not part of a couple. Therefore, the sex I have is still plenty passionate.” At this, she makes a dirty gesture. In spite of herself, Allura laughs.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. I’ve seen the way some girl’s leave your apartment,” she teases, remembering the blissed out look lingering on the faces of Pidge’s lovers when they leave her house in the morning, the few times she’s seen it happen. Distantly, she wonders when the last time she looked like that after a night with Shiro was. “So, what do you suggest I do?”

Pidge hums, chewing her fries thoughtfully. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” She wipes her hand on a napkin delicately. “Well. I do have a solution, but you’re not going to like it.”

A sense of foreboding settles low in Allura’s stomach, but she pushes past it. At this point, she’s desperate enough to listen to even the craziest of Pidge’s idea’s. “Tell me anyway.”

Silence falls between them for a long moment as Pidge searches her face for any sign of hesitation. There is none, Allura knows; she doesn’t second-guess herself often. “If you want to recapture the passion you lost, you need to remember what it was like before you were in a relationship.”

Allura chokes on a fry. “What?” she manages to splutter out through her coughs. “Are you saying I should cheat on my husband?”

Instead of looking properly guilty - as she should - Pidge only looks annoyed, as if Allura is the one to suggest cheating on her partner as a viable option to revive their sex-life. “I told you, you weren’t going to like it. Besides,” she huffs, completely ignoring the way Allura is glaring at her, “you don’t necessarily need to cheat on Shiro to remember what it’s like to be single. So long as you don’t actually kiss or have sex with someone, it should be fine, right?”

“I-” Allura splutters, trying to find the words to express everything she’s feeling. It’s pretty difficult, considering she isn’t sure she even knows what she’s feeling. A mix of multiple emotions, jumbled together into something she can’t identify. “I don’t think Takashi would agree!”

Pidge raises an eyebrow, probably more than aware that Allura is only trying to hide her own interest by bringing up Shiro now. “It’s for his benefit too. You’d be doing it to save your marriage. I’m sure he’d understand.”

“Understand? Understand?” Allura scoffs. “Are you kidding?” As open minded as she knows Shiro is, she very much doubts he would be okay with this. Maybe if they discussed it beforehand, but…

No. She shouldn’t be thinking about this, shouldn’t be considering it. Their sex-life might be a little stale, but she and Shiro love each other. So long as they keep working at it, they’ll be okay.

“Calm down, will you?” Pidge waves a fry in front of Allura’s face, trying to get her attention. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But do me a favor, okay?”

As bad as her advice has been, Pidge, crazy as she is, is still Allura’s best friend. Much as she would like to refuse to do Pidge any favors related to cheating on her husband, she still trusts her. That probably makes her even crazier than Pidge. Closing her eyes, Allura resigns herself to having to do something monumentally stupid. “Sure. Whatever.”

Even with her eyes closed, Allura just knows Pidge is grinning like the cat that got the canary. “At least think about it. There are-” Allura opens her eyes to see Pidge writing something down on a napkin. “- plenty of things you could do. You need to go on a date with somebody who will treat you like you’re something special, new and exciting and interesting, and the best way to do that,” she slides that napkin across the table, “is to get an escort.”

Allura picks the napkin up with shaking fingers. The name of a website is written on it. She knows exactly what she’ll find if she looks on that website. “Aren’t escorts just hookers?”

An older woman passing by their table glares at her. Allura winces, mouthing ‘sorry’ at her retreating back.

“It’s totally different.” Pidge says. She doesn’t seem concerned that an old lady just heard them talking about hookers in a café. “Escorts aren’t prostitutes. They don’t offer sex for money, just…” She hesitates, trying to think of the right word to describe it. Eventually, she settles on, “Company.”

“Right. Company.” Allura tries to put the napkin in the pocket of her jacket, slung over the back of her chair, fumbles, and ends up throwing it into her bag instead. She can barely look at Pidge as she stand up, plate of fries still half-full. “I’ll check it out. I- I should probably go. See you next Friday.”

She leaves the café as quickly as possible without bumping into things, Pidge’s quiet laughter following her out.

“Fuck,” Allura mutters, looking at her ringing phone with trepidation. When she sees the caller ID, she repeats the sentiment, louder this time. “Fuck!” She debates just letting the call go to voicemail, but she already feels guilty enough as is, so that probably isn’t the best option. After taking a couple of steadying breaths, she picks up the phone.

“Hey, honey!” Her voice is startlingly loud in the quiet of her hotel room. She winces, hoping Shiro hasn’t noticed anything strange.

Her husband’s voice crackles over the line. “Hey, ‘Lu. Do you want to know how pissed I am right now?”

Allura’s stomach drops. Her heart stops beating. The floor disappears beneath her feet, and she’s falling. She’s messed everything up. “I- no?” she sits down on the bed. The sheets crinkle beneath her. In her panicked state, she’s afraid Shiro can hear it, and she’s already thinking of ways to explain the noise without arousing suspicion. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got off the phone with Iverson. You know how he is.”

So Shiro doesn’t know where she is. Good. “I’m sorry. Was it bad?”

Shiro blows out a sigh. “Not really. He just - you know how he gets on my nerves. Just because he’s my boss, doesn’t mean he can act like a dick all the time, you know?” Allura hums in agreement. “Anyway. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Have fun with Pidge, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah. See you tonight.” Allura’s mouth goes dry. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Shiro responds, then hangs up. As soon as he does, Allura tosses her phone onto the bed.

She stands up and starts pacing around the room. What is she doing here? She loves her husband, so, so much. She should be at home, with him, instead of in some hotel room about to meet up with an escort. It doesn’t matter how good this may be for their sex-life. It could ruin their marriage. She shouldn’t be here. Definitely not.

Mind made up, she collects her things, and rushes to the door, ready to check out and go back home. Unfortunately, as soon as she opens the door, she comes face to face with the very thing she wanted to avoid.

“Oh,” the escort says. “Were you leaving?”

Allura’s breath catches in her throat. He is absolutely gorgeous. The very definition of tall, dark and handsome, though his eyes are a beautiful blue. “Um.” Her gaze fixes on the escort’s lips momentarily, before she manages to tear her eyes away and focus on the wall behind him. “Yeah, I, uh. Something came up at work and I just - so sorry - I gotta leave. Right now. Immediately.” She attempts to move around the escort, trying to hide her blushing face, but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. His skin is incredibly warm.

“Work, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing a word Allura said. His mouth quirks into a tiny smile. It’s entirely unfair how attractive Allura finds it. “So you were just planning on leaving without a word?”

Allura glances nervously down the hallway. “Yes?”

“Okay,” the escort draws the word out. “Sorry, I know I don’t have an official cancellation policy yet but this-” he gestures at Allura “- is definitely not how it’s done.”

“Oh.” Allura blushes. She should have thought of this before she tried to take off. “You need to get paid.”

The escort shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. I have to pay my rent somehow.”

“Right. Of course.” Somewhere down the hallway, a door opens. Allura glances at it nervously. “Is it okay if I pay you inside?”

“That doesn’t make it sound like you plan to knock me out and lock me in your basement at all,” the escort jokes. Allura’s laugh sounds more than a little hysterical to her own ears. The escort gives her a strange look, but still follows her inside.

Allura sets her purse down on the bed. “Sorry. Just have to get my wallet.” She can hear the escort moving behind her as she rummages through her purse, but doesn’t pay it any mind until he speaks up.

“So,” he starts casually, “where does your husband think you are right now?”

Allura freezes. “Why would you think I’m married?”

The escort laughs at that. “Come on. It’s not like you were all that subtle about it. The way you were looking down that hallway, I’d almost think you were trying to catch a stalker.”

“Fair enough,” Allura tries to keep her tone light, but it’s difficult while she’s silently cursing herself for being so obvious. “He thinks I’m out drinking with a friend.” Finally, after what seems like way too long - her purse isn’t that big, her wallet should not be this hard to find - her hand finally closes around her wallet. She pulls out the requisite amount of cash and turns around, only to freeze in her tracks once again.

While she had her back turned to him, the escort had taken off the leather jacket he was wearing, leaving him in only a white t-shirt. His arms, all supple muscle and dark skin, are laid bare for Allura to admire. Faced with such a sight, she doesn’t quite manage to tear her eyes away in a reasonable amount of time.

When she finally manages to get her wits about her again, she thrusts the wad of cash at the escort, rather awkwardly. “Here.”

“Thanks,” the escort responds. Neither of them make a move to leave after the transaction has been made. Allura knows she should but, somehow, she can’t quite get her feet to move.

“You know,” the escort says, “it doesn’t all have to be a lie. This room does have a minibar.”

Allura follows his gaze, only to confirm what he told her. “It would seem so.” She hesitates. Part of her is telling her to leave, but a much larger, more vocal part is screaming at her to stay - and to not let the escort leave. “But it’d be pathetic to drink alone, right?”

A wide smile appears on the escort’s face. “Definitely.”

Steeling her nerves, allura walks to the minibar and takes out two beers. She offers one to the escort. “Care to join me?”

“Of course,” the escort says, happily accepting the beer. He lets the silence hang in the air after that. It takes a while for Allura to understand what he wants, but she does eventually.

“I’m Lily,” she says. Even though she’d decided on the name before she came here, and practiced saying it in the mirror, it still feels awkward leaving her mouth.

If the escort knows the name she told him is fake, he hides it well. He’s probably used to clients telling him fake names, anyway, Allura thinks. “Call me Damian.”

Conversation between them is surprisingly easy. Allura would have expected it to be awkward. How could it not be, when one party is being paid to have it? But instead of being awkward and stilted, the conversation comes as naturally to her as if she were talking to Pidge or Shay. She may as well have known Damien her entire life, for how easy it is to spill her entire life story to him.

“Bullshit,” Damian snorts. He takes a swig of vodka - they abandoned beer long ago - while Allura splutters in indignation.

“What? Why?” Her voice is louder than she’d like it to be. It’s probably all the alcohol. “It’s not that hard to believe.”

“Uh, yeah, it is. There’s no way you’re a high school guidance counselor.” He shakes his head. “You aren’t that lame.”

A rush of heat travels to Allura’s face. “Vice-dean,” she corrects him quickly, to the tune of Damian’s laughter. “And it’s plenty cool!” Allura feels her face heat up further as Damian keeps laughing. “Alright then, mister not-that-lame. What do you do that makes you so cool?”

Damian gestures at himself. Allura can’t keep her eyes from making another trip up and down his body. “You know,” he grins, “I’m an escort. I get to meet interesting women like y-”

Allura throws a discarded bottle at him playfully. She tries not to dwell too much on the fact that Damian called her interesting. “You know that’s not what I meant. What do you do, besides this?”

For a long moment, Damian does nothing but stare at her. An expression Allura can’t quite catch passes over his face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came, replaced by another smile. “I’m getting a masters in psychology.”

Somehow, Allura thinks, that fits him. “Does that mean you’ve been psychoanalyzing me the entire time?”

Damian nods and leans in conspiratorially. “Secretly,” he whispers, “I’m using you for my graduate thesis.”

A laugh bubbles in Allura’s throat, but it dies as soon as she realizes how close she is to Damian. She can feel his breath on her cheek. She can count every individual eyelash. She could kiss him, if she wanted to. Instead, she blurts out, “My real name is Allura Shirogane. I-” Her breath hitches, just a little. “I didn’t want to kiss you when you don’t even know my name. So.”

She starts to lean in, but Damian stops her by holding up a hand. A charged silence lingers between them, long enough to be noticeable but short enough that Allura doesn’t have enough time to panic and leave. “In that case,” the escort starts slowly, “I’m Lance Álvarez.”

He leans in, and then they’re kissing. Making out like a couple of teenagers. Whenever she and Shiro kiss, they build it up gently; soft pecks that turns to lingering kisses that turn deeper slowly. Lance kisses more hurriedly, like he’s acutely aware they only have a limited amount of time. Where Shiro is gentle, Lance is rough, occasionally biting at her lips or scratching at her skin. It leaves Allura feeling hot all over - though it's certainly focused in a certain area - and it doesn’t take long before she pulls away to take her blouse off.

“Gods,” Lance whispers. He moves closer to wrap his arms around Allura, pressing a series of kisses to her neck. “You’re so beautiful. You- I can’t imagine your husband not giving you enough attention.”

Abruptly, the heat in Allura’s groin starts to subside. Gently, she pushes Lance away from her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Lance leans back. Despite his obvious arousal, he doesn’t make a move to touch her again. “Why, then?”

Allura stands up from the bed, shaking her head. All the reasons she thought this was a terrible idea when Pidge first brought it up come rushing back to her. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her head feels woozy; she’s not sure whether it’s the alcohol or her current regret. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Even though she genuinely enjoyed talking to Lance. Even though he seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to her as well. Even though making out with him was - nice, to say the least. She shouldn’t be here.

“I’m going to leave.” She pulls her blouse back on, doing up the buttons as quickly as quickly as she can. Lance watches her from the bed, confusion evident on his face. At the door, she turns back to him. He’s still unbearably sexy. “I- sorry,” she says, “I had fun. But I have to go.”

It’s past midnight when she comes home. Shiro is already in bed, reading. When she enters the bedroom, he takes one look at her dishevelled appearance and immediately puts down his book. “What’s wrong?”

Allura stands at the foot of their bed and, fighting back tears, tells him, “I made a mistake.”

Chapter Text

All that’s between them is the bed, but Shiro has never felt more distant from his wife. “Who was he?” he demands, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Allura shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It-” Shiro stops himself and takes a deep breath. Raising his voice isn’t going to solve anything. “It matters, okay? Just tell me.”

“He was just an escort,” Allura whispers. There are tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Even as angry as he is, Shiro still feels guilt well up inside of him. He did this. He made her cry. “It didn’t mean anything.”

He pushes his guilt aside. “Didn’t it?” Allura doesn’t answer, which is all the answer Shiro needs. “You like him.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but when Allura flinches, Shiro knows he’s right. “You do! You like him!”

“But I love you,” Allura assures him, voice cracking. The tears are flowing freely now. “He doesn’t matter, because I love you. So much.”

For the first time in a long time, Shiro doesn’t say it back. “Show him to me. I want to see this guy.”

Allura hesitates. Shiro can tell by the way she bites her lip that she doesn’t think this is a good idea. “I’m not sure-”

“I am,” Shiro cuts her off. He strides across the room to grab his laptop and presses it into her hand. “I want to know who he is.”

With a sigh, Allura sits down on the bed. She types a name into google - Lance Álvarez - and Shiro wonders how it could have meant nothing when she even knows the guy’s last name. The first link that comes up is to a facebook profile. Allura clicks it, then hands the laptop to Shiro. “It really didn’t-”

“No offense, Allura,” Shiro says, “but I don’t want to hear your excuses right now.” He starts to scroll through Lance’s profile. All his posts are about what you’d expect of a college student; mentions of nights out with friends, posts from family members and the occasional meme. His pictures are pretty normal as well. Some selfies, but mostly group shots. Looking at them, Shiro has to admit he’s pretty handsome. He has a nice body and a nicer smile, and his eyes are pretty striking as well.

Sometime while he’s looking through Lance’s profile - and then, later, his instagram and twitter - Allura goes to bed. When he finally follows her example, it’s much closer to morning than evening and the image of Lance Álvarez is seared into his brain.

“Wow,” Hunk says, when Shiro tells him everything that evening. They’re in a bar, a pretty classy one, both with their own glass of whiskey. “That sucks, man.” Then, because he’s just that nosy, he adds, “Did she sleep with him?”

Shiro grimaces. “No. They only made out.” He swirls his glass, staring at the movement of the liquid in his glass before looking back up at Hunk. “That’s worse, though, isn’t it? It would have been better if she just fucked him.” He sighs. “She liked him, Hunk. They made out and she liked him.”

“Wow,” Hunk repeats. “That’s - not good.” They sit in silence for a moment. Shiro debates just finishing his drink in one go and ordering another one, but Hunk speaks up again before he can. “So? What are you going to do? I can’t imagine what I’d do if it was Shay…”

“Well…” Shiro’s mouth quirks up in a tiny, self-satisfied smile. He doesn’t get the opportunity to explain any further, because right at that moment somebody says,

“Which one of you handsome gentlemen is Sven?”

Lance, it turns out, is even prettier in person; enough so that Shiro can’t help his smile from spreading into something more genuine. “That would be me,” he says, hopping off the barstool to offer his arm to Lance. Hunk is looking at him like he’s absolutely insane - admittedly, he may have a point - but Shiro can’t be bothered to care right now. “Shall we?”

Laughing, Lance takes his outstretched arm. “Lead on, good sir.”

As Shiro leads him to one of the corner booths, he looks back at Hunk over his shoulder and mouths “don’t worry” at him. Of course, he knows that won’t be enough to actually stop Hunk from worrying about his, arguably terrible, decision making skills. That’s simply the kind of person he is. However, Shiro knows he’s also the kind of person who would be insulted if Shiro hadn’t informed him of the plan, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it.

They settle next to each other, though Shiro leaves a little space between them. He orders Lance a drink, which he accepts with a charming smile. “Alright,” Lance turns sideways so he can look at Shiro directly, “tell me something about yourself.”

Shiro blinks. It’s not the kind of question he was expecting - maybe if this were on a real date, but Lance is an escort. He doesn’t have any reason to be interested in Shiro’s personal life. Then again, maybe he’s only pretending… “Something about myself, huh?” he hums in thought. His life isn’t exactly the kind a college student would find interesting.

“Yeah! You know, what do you do?” He leans towards Shiro. His eyes are sparkling with what seems to be genuine curiosity. “What’s your deal, Sven?”

“My deal?” Shiro repeats, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Sorry,” Lance grimaces. “Was that weird? It was weird, wasn’t it?” Abruptly, he downs the rest of his drink. Shiro watches in something like fascination as his mood shifts. “I have a confession to make,” Lance whispers, leaning in a little closer so Shiro can hear him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Shiro quirks an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh?” Lance had seemed so confident. If he actually is nervous, he’s hiding it well.

“I’m always nervous before these things, but - well. You’re my first man-date.” His mouth quirks up in a smile. “It also doesn’t help that you’re very handsome.”

Shiro scoffs in disbelief. He knows what sentence is going to follow this, has heard it often enough. “For my age, right?”

Lance tilts his head to the side in confusion. “No,” he drawls. “Just handsome. Also very angry, apparently.”

“You would be too, if you were in my place.” Shiro looks down at where his hand is clenched tightly around his glass. “Everything is kind of fucked up right now.”

Instead of asking what’s wrong, Lance only looks at him with the gentle, understanding eyes. Shiro might have shifted the conversation onto some other topic if he had asked, but faced with such quiet compassion he can’t seem to stay silent. “Do you ever feel like something that happened to you was inevitable? You didn’t know it was going to happen, but the moment it does you sort of think ‘Oh, of course. Of course this was going to happen. How could it not have?’ It’s not at all surprising.” A humorless smile forms on his face. “It’s like reading a book that just came out, but somehow knowing exactly what’s on the next page.”

He looks at Lance, then, and finds him looking back with something like pity. With a sigh, he shoves his glass away from him. “I’m going to go.” He makes a move to stand up, but a thump from beside him makes him pause. Suddenly, Lance is much closer to him, close enough to reach out and touch him. “What are you - oh.”

In one swift movement, Lance has undone the button of his jeans and slipped a hand inside his underwear. “Surprise,” he says, somewhat uncertainly. When Shiro makes a strangled noise, he whispers, “Be cool. Can you do that?”

Shiro nods, though in reality he isn’t all that certain he can, because Lance is looking up at him and biting his lip and moving his hand and - fuck. His cock is hardening quickly under Lance’s ministrations and it’s getting more difficult to keep his voice in, so Shiro does what any sane man in his situation would do; he grabs the edge of the bench they’re on and holds on for dear life while Lance jerks him to completion beneath the table.

Afterwards, Lance wipes the cum off his hand with a paper napkin in quick, efficient movements. As Shiro stares at the movement of his hand, it slowly sinks in that he just got a hand job in public, by somebody who isn’t his wife. The post-orgasm haze starts making way for a wave of guilt. He has to get out of here, has to clear his head. “I, uh. I’m going to the bathroom.”

This time, he manages to get away before Lance has a chance to stop him. Once he reaches the bathroom, he pauses only to confirm that there’s nobody inside, then splashes cold water in his face. “You idiot. You fucking mo-”

The door opens. “Tell me it wasn’t me. Please.”

Shiro whirls around in surprise. Lance is leaning against the doorjamb, obviously trying and failing to look casual and unconcerned. “Please tell me you didn’t run off because I freaked you out. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. It’s- you’re just so good-looking, and when you started talking about how things are inevitable and unsurprising, I-” He takes a shaky breath in. “I wanted to do something to make you feel better. It was a stupid idea.”

He looks so infuriatingly earnest that Shiro has to take a moment to collect himself. Running his hands through his hair, he whispers, “Shit.” He starts to pace back and forth, but halts almost as soon as he started. “It’s not you, it’s- fuck. This all got so messed up, so quickly.”

“What?”

“I’m-” Shiro opens and closes his mouth a couple of times without saying anything, trying to find the words to explain. Eventually, he blurts out, “I’m Allura’s husband.” When Lance only looks confused at his statement, he adds, “Hotel minibar girl? From last night?”

At that, Lance goes very still. He takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him. “Okay,” he says, rather calmly. For a moment Shiro thinks that’s all the reaction he’s going to give, but then Lance starts laughing a little hysterically. “What- Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you people? I mean, you obviously have some issues to sort out together-” He stops talking when Shiro places a shaky hand against his cheek.

“Um.” He looks at Shiro, confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing?”

Nervously, Shiro licks his lips. He doesn’t miss the way Lance’s eyes track the movement. “You’re also very handsome.”

Lance makes a surprised noise, but recovers quickly, his smooth personally falling back into place like it was never even gone. “Am I, now?”

“Yes,” Shiro says, shakily rubbing his thumb over Lance’s cheekbone. As much as he doesn’t want it to be true. As much as he wants to be able to say the man his wife cheated on him with is hideous, he means it. Lance is absolutely gorgeous. “Or not. Maybe beautiful is a better word.” He allows his hand to move down a little bit, so he can swipe his thumb over Lance’s bottom lip instead. Lance’s breath hitches and any lingering hesitations Shiro might have had get swept away by the sheer size of his desire.

He crashes his lips into Lance’s with enough force that Lance has to take a step back - one, two, until his back is against the bathroom wall, right next to the door. Shiro pries Lance’s mouth open with his tongue and revels in the moan Lance lets out. He encircles his arms around Lance’s waist. Lance responds by carding his fingers through Shiro’s hair and pulling just enough that Shiro starts to feel the sting. They go back and forth like that, like it’s a dance, a game they’ve played before but which is a little different each time.

When they’re both too out of breath to continue, Shiro pulls back. Lance’s lips are swollen and his pupils are blown wide; it’s enough to make Shiro want to kiss him again, but he manages - with great difficulty - to restrain himself. Instead, he takes a step back, letting his hands fall limply to his side.

He opens his mouth to say - something, he doesn’t know what - but no words come. Maybe he just doesn’t want to say goodbye. Saying goodbye would mean that this is the end, and some part of Shiro really doesn’t want this to be the last time he sees Lance. Whatever the reason, he only nods at Lance before he turns to leave the bathroom and - after throwing some money on their table - leaving the bar.

When he comes home, Allura is sitting on the couch with a glass of wine. The tv is on, but she doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to it, instead staring into her glass like it holds all the secrets to the universe. She looks up when Shiro comes in. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say anything.

Shiro does his best not to notice how tired she looks. There are dark circles beneath her eyes and it doesn’t look like she’s made any attempt to make herself look presentable. She’s wearing her lazy day outfit; a large sweater, sweatpants and fluffy socks that Shiro bought her. All in all, she looks like she’s had a rough day. Some part of Shiro wants to go over and comfort her, but another part of him - the part that’s still angry with her, or maybe the part that feels guilty - tells him not to.

He doesn’t go over to her. He only announces that he’s going to start making dinner, then leaves her sitting on the couch while he goes to the kitchen to do exactly that.

His mind wanders, as it often does when he’s doing a mundane task such as cooking. He thinks of the early days of their relationship, when they were both fresh out of college. Allura hadn’t yet moved into his apartment officially, but she was there more often than not. The only time she left was when they’d had an argument. It didn’t happen often, but when it did they’d both sit in sullen silence and wait for the other person to apologize. That may have been a long time ago, but it seems like they haven’t changed much since then.

Of course, Shiro does want to make things better. Despite everything, he still loves Allura. He can’t imagine not loving her. Allura and her determination, her wisdom, her compassion, her beauty. The way she still laughs at his corny jokes. The excitement in her voice when she tells him how one of the kids at the school is doing better thanks to her advice. Shiro loves everything about her. And yet, something in him - pride, maybe - refuses to let him be the first to apologize.

Allura was the one who cheated on him. It shouldn’t matter that she did it to help their marriage. It shouldn’t, but it does. Shiro can’t deny that, ever since Allura told him she’d made out with somebody else, he’s found her more attractive. More than just beautiful, she’s desirable again. Even when he saw her a moment ago, in baggy clothing and without any makeup on, he found her sexier than he has in ages.

Without giving himself too much time to think about what he’s doing, Shiro turns the stove off. Even though he’s halfway through preparing dinner, he leaves the kitchen in favor of sneaking up on Allura, who hasn’t moved from her position on the couch. Shiro walks up in front of her and plucks the wineglass from her hands, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Shiro?” Allura looks at him questioningly. Instead of answering, Shiro kneels in front of her. He can hear her breath catch in her throat. Involuntarily, his lips pull into a smirk.

“I was busy cooking,” Shiro says, voice pitched low in a way he knows Allura likes. His reaches up on hand to toy with the waistband of her sweatpants. “But then I got distracted by how good you look today.” It’s only partially a lie, so Shiro feels like he can get away with it.

Allura laughs, but it comes out a little breathless. “Don’t joke, Shiro. I look like crap.”

Shiro leans in to press a kiss against Allura’s thigh, through the fabric of her pants. “You look great. Beautiful. Magnificent. You’re breathtaking.” He looks up and catches her gaze, trying to show her how serious he is. “You always are. I can’t believe I ever forgot that.”

“Shiro-” Allura starts, but stops herself with a sharp intake of breath when Shiro reaches up to pull her pants down.

Slowly, teasingly, he trails his fingers up her now bare thighs, towards her panties. Allura shivers between his featherlight touches. “Don’t argue. Just - let me do this,” Shiro breathes. Allura nods, and lets him.

About an hour later, when they’re lying side by side on the soft carpet in front of their couch, Shiro reaches over to run a hand through Allura’s hair. She laughs at that. “Don’t tell me you want to go again already. I’m not twenty anymore, I need some more time to recover.”

A tiny smile makes its way to Shiro’s face. Allura really is beautiful, even when she’s sweaty and exhausted after sex. That smile drops soon enough when he remembers what he wanted to tell her. “I met Lance today,” he says. Allura turns her head to look at him, confusion evident in her face.

She flounders around for something to say for a moment before she settles on, “you did?”

Shiro nods. The smile appears back on his face; this time, from the memory of his meeting with Lance. “Yeah. I can see what you liked about him. He really is great.” Then, with equal amounts glee and guilt, he adds, “He gave me a hand job beneath a table and then we made out in the bathroom. So, I guess we’re even now.”

Allura shoots upward. She looks down at him, expression caught somewhere between outrage and confusion. “He what? Why did you- how- since when-” Her arms flail around wildly.

After watching her struggle to form a coherent sentence for a little while, Shiro sits up as well. He catches her hands in his. She calms down a little at that, though he can see she has more to say. Before she can do so, Shiro decides that now that he’s started confessing, he might as well do it properly. “He wasn’t my first guy,” he blurts out. In the face of Allura’s astonishment, he continues, “I should probably have told you that a long time ago. But, yeah, Lance wasn’t my first guy.” He lets go of one of Allura’s hands to rub at the back of his head. His cheeks are slowly reddening. “Or my second. Or third.”

Slowly, Allura pulls her hands away from him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Shiro hunches his shoulders, unconsciously trying to make himself look smaller. “I guess it just never came up.” He tries for a hesitant smile.

For a moment, Allura’s face is unreadable. It stays that way long enough that Shiro wonders if he’s permanently ruined everything - if they really can’t recover from Lance and the lies he’s told - but then she smiles as well. “I’m glad you told me now, at least.”

In the week that follows, they get better. Things are still a little awkward, at times - most notably when they went over to dinner at Hunk and Shay’s and Hunk kept hinting at the situation with Lance until Allura and Shiro got so exasperated that they gave in and told him what happened.

Of course, they couldn’t refrain from telling him all about the epic sex they’d had afterwards as payback.

“Gross,” Hunk had said, pulling a face, while Allura and Shiro discreetly fist-bumped beneath the table. Shay had only laughed and said she was glad the kids were already in bed, since they’d probably be traumatised after hearing that particular story.

All in all, things were good. It truly did seem like they’d regained some of the passion they lost. Not only did they have a lot more sex - at least once, sometimes twice a day - but something in their daily routine was different. They talked more, smiled more, touched each other more. Really, it’d be perfect if not for one thing: Shiro hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Lance.

Things come to a head when Allura, nervous and embarrassed, admits to getting caught masturbating at work by the dean, Coran. Her embarrassment turns into guilt when she confesses she was thinking about Lance.

Astonished, Shiro can only say, “Shit. I jerked off in the bathroom today while thinking about him.”

They lock eyes and, after a short moment of stunned silence, burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Gods,” Allura says, when they’ve calmed down from their outburst. “We really are a mess, aren’t we?”

Shiro wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her temple. Allura leans into the contact. “I suppose,” he says, “But is that really such a bad thing?”

“We’re almost forty, Shiro. We live in a suburban neighborhood, surrounded by couples and their children.” Allura gestures around them, as if to illustrate her point, though all Shiro can see is the inside of their living room. “This - we can’t just get away with doing crazy shit like-” she lowers her voice, as if somebody would be able to hear her if she didn’t “-inviting a third person into our bedroom.”

Humming thoughtfully, Shiro plays with a strand of Allura’s hair. “That might be true. Then again, we’ve never exactly been afraid to deviate from the path laid out before us before. Why start now?”

Allura turns around to face him. Her eyes are fever-bright with excitement. “Can we really do this?” She asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“I think we can.” Shiro’s voice shakes with his own excitement. “Should we - should we call him?”

The doorbell rings while Allura hesitates. With a disappointed sigh, Shiro lets go of his wife. “I’ll go get the door. It’s probably just Hunk wanting to borrow our sugar, again. But, when I get back-”

Allura nods, determined. “When you get back, we call him.”

Shiro can barely contain his excitement as he walks through the hall towards the front door. He’s ready to tell Hunk to get his sugar and get going. What he’s not ready for, is for Lance to be standing on their doorstep. He’s wearing his leather jacket and a cocky smile, though the expression is fraying a little around the edges. Gods, but he’s just as beautiful as Shiro remembers.

“Hey there,” Lance says. “Miss me?”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t even that hard, finding the Shirogane’s home. All it took was a tiny bit of internet stalking and, bazinga, Lance knew where they lived. Of course, all this happened after he spent almost an entire a week pining after a married couple.

The day after his date with Shiro, he hadn’t come out of bed until Keith threatened to sit on him if he didn’t. At first he’d still refused to get up, until Keith’s weight got too much to bare and he was forced to throw him off. “I hate you,” Lance had said, glaring at Keith, who was trying to pretend he hadn’t just been thrown to the floor. “And I’m quitting. I’m going to get a real job, and get my life together.”

Keith had drawn up one eyebrow in that infuriating way of his. “You ‘get your life together’ about once a month, Lance. How about you keep it together for once?”

And Lance had tried to do exactly that. He’d cleaned the apartment he shares with Keith until it was spotless, attended all his lectures and even scored a second date with a girl he’d gone out with a couple of days before. Things came to a head when the girl - Nyma, her name was, she usually sat behind Lance during lectures - told him she was looking for a more serious relationship. She didn’t want a third date unless he was willing to commit.

Lance would have agreed, but something held him back. More specifically, two somebodies. A married couple he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past week, despite his best efforts to forget about them. So, he’d told Nyma he wasn’t ready, did a little online sleuthing to find out where the Shirogane’s lived and took a cab over to tell them how he feels.

Easier said than done. He’d thought of a whole speech on the way over, but now that he’s actually here all he can do is wring his hands nervously while Shiro and Allura stare at him, dumbfounded.

“So, um.” Lance starts, looking between them uncertainly. “I know this is surprising, but could you please say something? Otherwise I’m going to think you hate me and leave.” He laughs, attempting to pass it off as a joke. It doesn’t work, not even a little bit. He sounds exactly like what he is: an insecure idiot who got it into his head that a married couple might be interested in him.

“We don’t hate you,” Shiro hurries to assure him. He shares a look with Allura. There are a thousand words in that look, an entire conversation. It reminds Lance that they’ve been together for years already, and he feels an intense flare of jealousy. “Actually, we…” He trails off. Allura grabs his hand and squeezes it softly.

She takes a deep breath. “Actually,” she smiles at Lance. It seems sincere, if a bit shaky. “We were just talking about you.”

Lance rocks back on his heels. He was expecting them to say lots of things, but not that they’d just been talking about him. That’d mean they’d been thinking about him as much as he had about them and that - well. It’s kind of hard to believe. “Seriously? That’s such a huge coincidence.” He tries for another laugh. “Or maybe not. Maybe you really do want to lock me in your basement and keep me there as your personal sex slave.”

Somewhat unsurprisingly, nobody laughs. The tension builds until Lance can’t take it anymore. He bounces from one foot to the other, waving his hands around frantically. “Um. I should probably tell you I turned down a date with a really cute girl to come see you. So, uh. Yeah.”

Shiro and Allura look at each other, again. “That’s…” Shiro starts, but he trails off after the first word.

Finally, fed up with the awkwardness of it all, Lance says, “Listen. I’m not sure if this is your kind of thing but - let’s be real - we’re all way too awkward to have this conversation sober. So,” he reaches into his pocket, “I brought some weed.”

He offers the blunt to Shiro and Allura. They look at it, then at each other. After a tense moment of silence, during which Lance is already thinking up a dozen ways to apologize for even suggesting this idea, Allura says, “Thank God,” and takes the blunt from him.

They end up sitting in a circle on the floor, passing the blunt around like a group of high schoolers in a cliched teenage movie. Once everybody is high enough that the tension has faded somewhat, Lance finally feels comfortable enough to bring up the reason why he’s here.

“You two absolutely ruined me,” he admits, looking down at his lap. Though he isn’t as tense as he was only a few minutes ago, he still doesn’t feel brave enough to look Shiro and Allura in the eyes. “That girl I mentioned? The one I had a date with? She was legitimately perfect. Cute, funny, smart, and adventurous. She’s what you would get if you put - build-a-bear style, you put together the perfect girl. And, for some unknowable reason, she actually liked me.” He fiddles with the bottom of his shirt. There’s a loose thread he should probably cut off soon. “This girl, this beautiful girl liked me, and I ran out on her. Do you know why?”

At this, Lance chances a glance at the Shirogane’s. Both of them look caught somewhere between confused and concerned. “I walked away from what could have been a great relationship because I couldn’t stop thinking about you two.”

There’s no immediate response. Lance looks down at his lap again. Surely, this is the point where he gets kicked out of the house and told not to come back. However, when Allura next says something, it’s not ‘get out of our home’. It’s “We both masturbated to you at work. So, I think it’s safe to say we’ve had kind of the same problem.”

Lance snaps his head up quick enough that his neck hurts a little. He looks from Shiro to Allura, mouth gaping open in astonishment. They seem a little embarrassed, but no less serious for it. “You’re shitting me.”

Allura shakes her head. “No. That doesn’t freak you out, does it?”

Wordlessly, Lance’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he find the right words. “I - no. No, I’m flattered, a little surprised but - two gorgeous people masturbated to the thought of me? Yeah, no. Definitely not freaked out.”

Both Shiro and Allura look astonished at this, though Lance doesn’t know whether it’s because he called them gorgeous or because he said they haven’t freaked him out. Either way, they look kind of ridiculous. One look at their faces and Lance bursts out laughing. “You guys,” he gasps out, “pull the funniest faces when you’re confused.”

Allura and Shiro look at each other, then dissolve into giggles as well.

Once they’ve calmed down, Lance asks “So, what do we do now? About all this.” He gestures around at the three of them. “We all like eachother, yeah? What do we do with it?”

Again, Shiro and Allura exchange a glance that hold a thousand words. “I think,” Shiro says, the words leaving his mouth slowly, “we try dating you? Both of us.”

A stupid, goofy grin spreads over Lance’s face. “Yeah, alright.”

“So, how much is this going to cost?” Allura asks. The grin slips from Lance’s face immediately.

Of course they don’t want to date him for real. Of course not. They only want to hire him as an escort. “Depends,” he says. His mouth feels dry all of a sudden. He swallows a couple of times. “How long do you want me?”

“Let’s start with a week,” Shiro decides. He looks over to Allura for confirmation. She nods and smiles, and Shiro smiles as well. “Yeah. A week.”

Lance doesn’t really feel like smiling, but he forces his lips to pull up at the corners in what he likes to call his ‘customer service’ smile anyway. “At least a thousand, probably. We’d have to iron out the details some more for me to be sure. Then I’d have to do some calculations…” He trails off, already thinking about the logistics of it all. If they want to hire him for every night that week, they’ll probably be paying his nightly rates instead of his hourly ones. But what if they want to have a date in the morning or afternoon? Lance doesn’t have any special rates for that. Should he just go with his nightly rate? Or maybe make a daily rate?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears Allura giggle. She’s leaning on Shiro’s shoulder, silvery hair draped over his head in a makeshift wig. In spite of himself, a genuine smile spreads on Lance’s face. It falls as he watches Shiro flutter his lashes exaggeratedly. It seems like it’s familiar, like it’s something they’ve done before. The Shirogane’s have inside jokes already. Jokes he’s not a part of and never will be a part of, because all he is to them is an escort.

Lance stands up, dusting off his jeans. “You’re going to have to pay the week in advance, since I’ll be losing some regular customers.” They don’t need to know he’ll be losing them anyway, since he’s quitting the escort gig. “Mondays through Fridays. Weekends are for personal relationships only. Ones that aren’t paid, I mean.” He manages to force another smile. “I can’t stay, but you have my number. Call me in the morning and we’ll iron out the details.”

“Oh. Okay.” Allura sits up straight, patting her hair to make it look somewhat presentable again. She’s not very successful. “I guess we’ll call you tomorrow.” She looks at Shiro, who nods. He grabs her hand and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Lance turns away from them, stomach twisting. “Yeah. It’s been swell. See ya.”

Keith has to physically drag him out of bed in the morning.

“Your phone has been ringing non-stop for like an hour,” he manages to groan out as he pulls on Lance’s arm. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

Lance attempts to curl up into a little ball, jerking his arm from Keith’s grip. “No,” he mutters, face pressed into his pillow, “I don’t want to. Just let me wallow in my misery.”

With a sigh, Keith gives up his struggle. He sits down on Lance’s bed, and pulls back the blanket to look at Lance’s face. Lance knows he looks pathetic; his eyes are still blood-shot and puffy from crying himself to sleep that night, and his face is a mess of dried up tear tracks. He didn't even wear his face mask last night, for God’s sake. “Lance…”

Lance’s mobile rings again. Keith grabs it from the night stand. Before Lance can move to stop him, he answers the call. “Lance is busy right now. He’ll call you back.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it at the foot of Lance’s bed.

“Keith!” Lance shouts, outraged. Keith simply waves him off.

“This is better than if they just kept calling, right?” He crosses his arms, attempting to look stern. Lance can see right through it, though; he knows Keith is trying to hide how worried he is. “What happened?” he asks.

Groaning, Lance sits up. He really doesn’t want to talk about it, but he knows Keith will never let it go if he doesn’t tell him what happened. “They want to hire me,” Lance spits out, “As an escort. They like me too, but apparently not enough to genuinely want to date me. Only hire me.”

Keith blinks. He runs a hand through his hair - his awful hair, which Lance has told him to cut about a hundred times. “Well, shit. That sucks, man.”

“Wow.” Lance barks out a laugh. “Thanks Keith! You always know just what to say to make me feel better. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he gets out of bed, pushing Keith aside as he does so, “I have to call my clients back.” He swipes his phone from the foot of the bed and strides towards the door, stopping only when Keith speaks up again.

“You know you can just say no, right?”

No, Lance thinks. No, he can’t. Instead of saying that, he shoots a smirk over his shoulder. “I know. But, hey, money is money, right?” The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He ignores it in favor of continuing his exit from his room. As he walks, he checks his phone. Seven missed calls. Damn.

There’s a message too, sent about half a minute after the call Keith picked up, sent from Shiro’s phone. Everything okay?

Lance’s finger hovers over the delete button. If he just deletes this message and blocks Allura and Shiro’s numbers, he won’t have to deal with any of this anymore. He can be free to live his life. But, honestly, he’ll probably only come to regret not at least giving it a try.

With that thought, Lance resigns himself to his fate. He calls the Shirogane’s back.

Shiro picks up on the first ring. “Hey, Lance.” He says more after that, but Lance talks over him. He doesn’t need to hear Shiro feign concern over him.

“Hey. Sorry for not picking up before. I forgot I lent my notes to somebody, so I had to run out and get them,” he lies.

“Sure,” Shiro says, though he doesn’t sound to convinced. “And that guy who picked up the phone…?”

Lance laughs. It’s only partially forced. “My roommate, Keith. Don’t mind him, he’s always that rude. Probably got sick of the phone ringing so many times.” In a way, it’s true. He’s just deciding not to mention the fact that he was there with Keith when he picked up the phone.

“Right.” Shiro pauses. “So, um. Allura and I had a talk.”

Holding his phone between his shoulder and cheek, Lance walks over to the coffee machine on the counter. There’s no way he can deal with this conversation without a little caffeine. “And?”

A part of him is hoping Shiro’ll say they’ve changed their mind about this being a business relationship. Of course, he knows better than to expect that. “We decided on a schedule. We both get one separate date with you, and one date with all three of us. The other days we’d like you to come over to our home. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Alright.” Lance says, turning the coffee machine on. “Will all of these dates be in the evening? Or will you be requiring my services in the morning and afternoon as well?”

“Allura and I both work in the morning and afternoon, and I imagine you have lectures to go to as well. So, yeah, only in the evening.” Softer, Shiro adds, “And at night.”

Lance swallows thickly. “That fine. With five times my normal evening rate that’ll be-” he does some quick calculations in his head “- one thousand two hundred fifty dollars. But since you’re hiring me the entire week, and I like you, I’ll give you a little discount. Let’s make it an even twelve hundred.” His coffee is done. He pours it into a mug, and busies himself with adding the right amount of milk. “Like I said, I’ll need payment up front. It’ll be fine if you give the money to me on Monday. Speaking of which,” done making his coffee, he takes his phone in his hand again, “who’s going to be my Monday date?”

“Uh,” Shiro responds, sounding a little overwhelmed. “Me. It’s me on Monday, Allura on Wednesday and all three of us on Friday.”

Lance takes a few large sips of his coffee. It’s a little hot, but nothing too bad. “Do you want me to arrange our date, or do you have something in mind already?”

“I was thinking we could-”

“Shh,” Lance cuts Shiro off before he can say anything else. “Don’t ruin the surprise. What time do I need to be at your house?”

Shiro chuckles. “Six. That way we’ll be in time to-”

Lance lets out a panicked shriek. “No! Don’t ruin it!” On the other side of the line, he can hear Shiro laughing. Clearly he did this just to get a rise out of Lance. A little miffed, he composes himself. “Six o’clock. Cool. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” A trace of laughter is still audible in Shiro’s voice, though it faded with his next words. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah,” Lance says. In spite of everything, he still wants this more than he’s ever wanted anything before. “Me too.”

Lance arrives in the Shirogane’s neighborhood ten minutes before six o’clock on Monday. He lingers outside as long as he can without fear of somebody calling the police, but he’s still a little early.

Allura is the one to open the door. She looks stunning in a loose tank top and skirt. “Lance, come in.” She smiles, stepping aside to allow Lance entrance. “Shiro is still getting ready, but he’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”

“That’s fine,” Lance says, following her into the kitchen. She has her back to him, so Lance grabs her hand and spins her around to face him. “I have you to keep me company.” He places his free hand on the small of her back, using it to pull her close. Allura’s face flushes pink, causing him to smile.

She turns her face away from him. Even her ears are stained pink with her blush. “I was going to offer you some wine…”

“Who needs wine?” Lance cups her face with one hand, turning it so she’s looking at him again. He leans in until their lips are almost touching and whispers, “I have something much more tasty right here.”

“That,” comes Shiro’s voice from the doorway, “was absolutely terrible. Aren’t escorts supposed to be suave?”

The reminder that he’s only here as an escort leaves a bitter taste in Lance’s mouth. “No,” he releases Allura so he can strike a pose, only faltering a little when he sees the casual shirt and jeans Shiro is dressed in. “We’re supposed to be sexy, which I undeniably am.”

“Yes,” Shiro says. His voice softens in a way that makes Lance go weak in the knees. “You are.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Lance takes a moment to steady his legs, then steps towards Shiro. “Shall we? I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me.”

“Yeah, let’s go. But first,” Shiro grabs an envelope on the kitchen counter and hands it to Lance, “your money.” He then turns towards Allura and gives her a peck on the mouth. “See you later, ‘Lu.”

After he withdraws from the kiss, Allura is smiling. “Have fun.”

Lance’s stomach twists at the casual display of affection he’ll never be a part of. Shiro starts to lead Lance out of the house, but he stops him. “Wait.” He jogs the few steps over to Allura and cups her face in his hands again. “I want a kiss too.”

Allura laughs, and kisses him. It’s enough to make Lance feel a little better.

Once their out of the house, Lance presses himself into Shiro’s side and latches onto his arm. “So, where are we going? Somewhere nice, I bet.” He laughs softly, thinking of the bar where he first met Shiro. That was pretty expensive. “You seem like a man with good taste.”

“I thought you wanted it to be a surprise,” Shiro says teasingly. “I’m not going to ruin it now.”

“Alright,” Lance concedes. “But you’d better take me somewhere amazing.”

“What do you think?” Shiro asks, when they’ve arrived on their destination after a short car drive and an even shorter walk. He fidgets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Lance gives him an incredulous look.

“You’re kidding, right? You have to be.” When Shiro starts to look panicked, Lance adds, “It’s amazing!”

They’re on the roof of some building with a beautiful view of the city. On the hard concrete of the roof lies a picnic blanket and a pile of pillows, surrounded by multicolored strings of Christmas lights. Whooping with joy, Lance runs over to it and lets himself fall onto the pile of pillows. ‘Oh my Gods,” he groans, “and what is that smell?”

Shiro smiles and walks over to the edge of the roof, out of Lance’s vision. “You like it?” he asks.

“Like it?” Lance mimics incredulously. “It smells heavenly. Don’t tell me you cooked for us?” He raises himself up so he can look at Shiro who, sure enough, is holding a picnic basket.

“It’s just a pasta salad,” Shiro admits, “since I had to keep it on the roof for a couple of hours, and anything warm would have cooled off. Oh, and I have a bottle of wine.” He hefts said bottle up to show it.

“Mmm, a man who thinks ahead. Now that I like.” Lance makes grabby hands at the bottle until Shiro gives it to him, and cradles it as Shiro goes about getting out plastic plates and cutlery, and serving the food. Even this small amount of movement makes his muscles shift deliciously beneath his shirt. Lance takes the opportunity to fully enjoy the view. He’s not even embarrassed when he gets caught.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Shiro asks, brows furrowing in suspicion.

Lance answers without a second thought. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Shiro ducks his head, but it doesn’t hide the small smile on his face. It’s a wonderful smile. Lance feels immensely proud to be the cause of it. “Thank you.” Shiro reaches over to take the bottle of wine from Lance’s hands. As he does so, his eyes travel up Lance’s arm until he meets his gaze and he says, “You’re beautiful too, you know.”

If Lance got a dollar every time one of his clients called him beautiful, he’d have enough money to take a nice vacation somewhere sunny for a couple of weeks. The way Shiro says it is different, though. It almost makes him want to believe it.

“Thank you,” he says, mouth dry. Gratefully, he takes the wineglass - one of those tiny plastic ones - Shrio offers him, and immediately takes a large sip. “Good wine.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Did you even let it touch your tongue? I could swear you just inhaled it.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Lance leans forward. He places a hand on Shiro’s knee and says “I can think of some other things I’d like to inhale.” Shiro chokes on - seemingly - nothing but air. Lance leans back with a self-satisfied smile.

“Your gratuitous innuendos are going to be the death of me someday,” Shiro says, though he’s smiling.

Deciding he’d better not mention that, with the way things are going, he probably won’t be around long enough to do so, Lance takes a small sip of wine. He was right - it really is good wine. “Gratuitous innuendos,” he says, mulling it over in his head. “That’s good. I might make that my next band name.”

“Okay, one -” Shiro raises a single finger “-that’s a terrible band name. And two-” he raises his second finger “- you were in a band?” He looks hopeful, like a little kid in a candy store.

Lance grins. “Yeah. I’m a guitarist.” He doesn’t catch the way Shiro’s eyes flicker down to his hands. His grin grows wider. “Does that turn you on?”

Instead of spluttering incoherently the way Lance was expecting - or maybe just hoping for - Shiro catches his gaze. His eyes are dark with desire. It makes a shiver travel down Lance’s spine. “What if it does?”

Jesus, but Shiro’s voice is sexy. It’s unfair how he can make Lance’s entire body feel hot with just one sentence. “Just,” Lance can feel his cheeks heat up, and resists the urge to cover them. He’s not the one supposed to be embarrassed during this date. “Ugh. Shut up.” He reaches over to grab one of the plastic plates. “Let’s just eat.”

Shiro’s eyes sparkle with mirth, but he doesn’t say anything about Lance’s undoubtedly cherry red cheeks.

The food, it turns out, tastes as good as it smells. Lance lets out more than a few moans of pleasure, which he maybe exaggerates a little because Shiro is there. They make casual conversation as they eat. It’s - nice. Lance rarely gets to simply talk with somebody anymore, especially not during his work as an escort. Usually it involves fancy older women toting him around like some kind of trophy at fancy parties to make their fancy friends jealous. Sometimes it’s married women looking for an escape from their husband. There was even one eventful time when a woman paid him just to insult her. That certainly was an… experience.

Around seven thirty, Shiro stands up suddenly. He stretches out a hand to Lance and says “Come on. Let me show you why I really brought you up here.”

Lance looks around him at the pile of pillow and christmas lights, then back up at Shiro. “You mean there’s more? Are you, perchance, the most thoughtful person alive?”

Shiro rolls his eyes, and shakes his outstretched arm a little. “Will you just get up?”

Laughing, Lance grabs hold of Shiro’s hand and let’s himself be pulled up. “Fine, fine. I’ll allow you to wow me even further. Though I should warn you: if this surprise is anywhere near as amazing as your cooking I might just drop my pants and offer myself to you here and now.”

Shiro chuckles. “We’ll see.” He wraps his arms around Lance and spins the both of them around until they’re facing to the left of him. “Look,” he whispers, pointing at the skyline, to where there’s a gap in the buildings around them, leaving a tiny sliver of room with an unobstructed view of the horizon. From their vantage point, Lance can just see the place where the sun meets the ground. The sunset lights up the sky in shades of purple and pink, and the edge of the buildings have an orange glow surrounding them.

“Damn,” Lance breathes.

“Damn is right,” Shiro says. He sounds just as awed as Lance feels, though being the one who brought them here he must have seen this before. Lance supposes this kind of view isn’t something you get used to that easy.

They stand in silence until the sun finishes going down completely, at which point the only light illuminating them are the Christmas lights placed on the floor. Lance turns his head to look at Shiro, whose face is painted in various shades of purple and blue. “I’d never have pegged you as such a sap,” he says, mostly just to rile Shiro up.

“I may be a sap,” Shiro leans in close and lowers his voice, “but you’re the guy falling for it. Who’s the real winner here?”

In answer, Lance just kisses him.

Chapter Text

When Shiro arrives back home, Allura is nearly asleep. The noise of him entering their bedroom brings her back to full wakefulness. She cuddles up to him as soon as he lets himself fall onto the bed.

“Hey there, sexy,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s neck.

Surprisingly, Shiro pushes her away. “Not tonight, ‘Lu. I’m so tired.” He huffs out a laugh. “I swear, if I cum one more time tonight my dick is going to shrivel up and disappear.”

Allura moves away, creating some space between them. She props herself up on one elbow to look down at Shiro. Indeed, he does look thoroughly exhausted. Now that she’s taking a closer look, she can even see some signs of what he and Lance got up to; his shirt is rumpled, his hair is a mess and a very faint hickey is poking out from beneath the collar of his shirt. “I thought the whole point of this was for us to have more sex, not less.”

Now Shiro hefts himself up as well. He meets her gaze, but he’s clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “It is! I just overdid it a little.”

“A little?” Allura repeats incredulously.

“A little,” Shiro confirms. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”

Allura scowls at him. “Sure. Whatever.” She lowers herself onto the bed and turns onto her other side, so her back is facing Shiro. “Goodnight, Takashi.”

There’s the sound of movement behind her, and soon she can feel Shiro’s arms wrap around her. “C’mon, ‘Lu, don’t be mad. When we first got married, we promised never to go to bed angry, remember?”

She does remember. They’d been so naive back then. “That was before you had a thousand orgasms without me.” She makes an attempt to shrug her husband off, but without success. Shiro holds on, nuzzling into her cheek.

Shiro laughs a little. His breath blows across Allura’s cheek, making her shiver. “It was hardly a thousand…”

“Fine. Then I am going to have a thousand orgasms on my date with him.”

“Yeah?” Shiro asks. He doesn’t seem bothered by what she said; if anything, he sounds as if he’s amused. “What are you going to do?”

“I-” Allura falls silent. She hasn’t actually thought about where she wants to take Lance on their date. “Somewhere where we can have lots of sex.” She says, in lieu of a more concrete answer. “Just, non-stop porking. We’ll be going at it all night long.”

Shiro chuckles. “I’m sure you will-”

He doesn’t get to finish what he’s trying to say. Allura flips them over so she hanging over him. A smile blooms on her face. She just can’t stay mad at him. “Just shut up, will you?”

She moves in close to him. Shiro’s eyes close in anticipation of the kiss, but she halts just before her lips can touch him. “Night, Shiro,” she says, laughing. Ignoring Shiro’s indignant cry, she rolls over and settles in to sleep.

“Told you so.”

Allura rolls her eyes. She’s really not in the mood for Pidge’s gloating. “Yes, you did. I’m just worried…”

“About what?” Pidge asks. Before Allura has a chance to answer, she grabs onto her arm and points at the window of a shop with her free hand. “How about that?”

She’s pointing at an outfit consisting of a frilly white skirt, a light pink blouse and a cropped jean jacket. “Sure, if I was a fifteen year-old. Maybe.” Pidge releases her, laughing, and Allura slaps her arm lightly. “Take this seriously.”

“Alright, alright.” They keep walking, peering into shops to see what outfits they have on display. Pidge stuffs her hands into the pockets of her coat and glances at Allura from the corner of her eye. “What could you possibly have to be worried about, though? You made out with an escort, you worked it out with Shiro and now the two of you are having mind blowing sex.”

“We went three rounds this morning,” Allura can’t help but gloat. If she closes her eyes, she can almost still feel the post orgasm-glow on her skin.

Pidge makes a noise of assent. “My point exactly. Why would you be worried?”

“Well…” Allura averts her face from her friend’s searching gaze. Talking about this is still more than a little uncomfortable. “What if it’s all Lance? What if the only reason Shiro and I are doing better is because of him.”

“That’s absurd,” Pidge says immediately. “You and Shiro are just a great couple. That’s all.” Seeing Allura’s doubting look, she continues to try to reassure her. “It’s not like one night with an escort is enough to change your relationship that much. Now if you were still seeing him - oh,” she stops walking abruptly when she catches sight of Allura’s expression. “Oh my God. You’re still seeing him.”

Ears burning with embarrassment, Allura nods. “Yes.”

“But-” Pidge blinks. She looks like somebody just shoved an unsolvable math problem in front of her face; confused, but determined to figure out the solution. Unconsciously, Allura takes a step back. “What about Shiro? Does he know that you’re still- still-”

“It’s not just me. Shiro too.”

Pidge stares at her, face carefully blank. “So, instead of following my advice and using that escort to revive your sex life, you- what? You’re in some sort of kinky, three-way relationship?”

“Not kinky…” Allura mutters, but her words fall on deaf ears.

“Are you absolutely insane?” Pidge hisses. She leans in close, getting right up into Allura’s face - as much as possible with their height difference, at least. Allura can see her shoulders tense up beneath the fabric of her jacket. “You know how this ends, right?”

Truthfully, Allura hasn’t thought about it. Whenever thoughts about the future - about her, their future with Lance - pop up, she ignores them like they’re an annoying toddler who won’t stop talking.

“Somebody is going to get hurt. Probably all three of you.”

It feels like Allura’s throat closes up. Whatever response she may have given gets caught behind her teeth. Ashamed, she averts her eyes.

“Well,” Pidge says. Her tone has softened some. “I guess I can’t blame you for doing something I told you to.”

Allura looks up. Pidge has her arms outstretched, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” she asks, but Allura has already wrapped her arms around her before the word has left her mouth.

“You’re a good friend,” Allura mutters into Pidge’s shoulder.

“The best,” Pidge laughs, “and don’t you forget it. Now let’s find you a new date outfit.”

“Actually...” Allura trails off. She bites her lip in thought, then looks at Pidge, determined. “I don’t think I need it anymore. I have a better idea.”

Shiro is already plenty nervous at the thought of Lance coming over and - potentially, he has to struggle to remind himself - spending the night in their home. His nervousness only increases when, minutes before Lance is supposed to arrive, Allura tells him she has something to discuss with both of them.

“What is this about?” Shiro asks, eyeing the way Allura is fidgeting with suspicion.

“You’ll see.” There is a smile on her face that’s obviously supposed to be sly, but Shiro can see the nervousness beneath with ease.

Shiro reaches out to grab her hand. “Allura,” he strokes his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing motion, “is this something we should have talked about beforehand?”

Allura hesitates. “I-” she starts, but the rest of her words are cut off by the sound of the doorbell. Gently, she extracts her hand from Shiro’s grip. “I’ll get the door.”

When Allura comes back, Lance in tow, Shiro is still focused on what Allura is keeping from him. The moment he sees Lance, though, most of his focus shifts to him. He can’t help it; Lance demands attention, even when he’s dressed as simple as this. The way he stands, walks, talks, moves - it’s like he does it all for some invisible audience, performing in a way that Shiro can’t bring himself to look away from.

Breathless, he greets, “Hello.”

Lance smiles at him. They lock eyes and, for a moment, Shiro can imagine he and Lance are alone in the world. “Hi.”

“Okay,” Allura interjects, breaking the spell Lance has put him under that kept him unaware of the world around him. “This is why we need to talk.”

Her tone of voice makes Shiro pause. Usually, when she tells him they need to talk, she’s angry about something. Now, she doesn’t sound angry. She just sounds hurt. Shiro can deal with angry Allura; hurt Allura is a whole other beast.

Even Lance seems to sense that something is off. His grin slips from his face, replaced by a more serious expression. “What’s wrong?” he asks, a note of concern in his voice.

Allura waves her hands towards the couch. Shiro recognizes the movements as an old nervous tick. During their first date, Allura gestured frantically whenever she was talking about something. Later, she’d told him she always did that when she’s nervous. To see her do it now only makes Shiro more nervous.

“Sit down,” Allura says. She stops waving her hands, wringing them together instead. “I, um. I have-” She falls silent. Her eyes follow Lance as he moves to sit on the couch, tracing the line of his legs up to his waist and finally to his face.

Shiro watches them look at each other. When they lock eyes, Allura softens. Her face relaxes, the tense muscles of her back and shoulders unwind. He can see in that gaze the feelings they have for each other and, unbidden, feels a wave of jealousy wash over him. Who it’s directed at - Lance or Allura - he doesn’t know, but it burns like acid in the back of his throat.

“I don’t think this is working.” She entwines her fingers, looking down at them instead of at her husband and her - lover? Boyfriend? Whore? Shiro doesn’t really know what Lance is to them, and he doesn’t think now is the right time to start thinking about it. “This,” Allura continues, “Us. The way we are now. It’s not really…”

At once, Shiro feels both immensely relieved and disappointed. Ending things with Lance would put an end to these feelings of jealousy he’s been having - though he’s done a marvelous job of suppressing them so far. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to end things with Lance. He doesn’t want to lose him; his bright smile, the flow of words that streams from his mouth when he’s nervous, his corny jokes. He wants to keep all of him close and not let go.

Lance stands up abruptly. He stumbles a little, as if he’s dizzy, and looks first at Allura and then at Shiro with a wan smile. “That’s my queue to go, I guess.” He makes a valiant effort at flashing a grin, but Shiro can see the cracks in his facade. He makes and attempt to reach out towards him, but Lance dances out of the way. “Well, this has been fun. Super swell, and all. Maybe I’ll see you around-”

His attempts to get away are thwarted by Allura, who puts and hand on his chest. “That’s not what I meant. Please,” she catches Lance’s eyes once more. Again, something Shiro can’t quite read passes between them. “Sit down. Wait a little longer.”

Hesitantly, Lance moves back to the couch. He sits down, though he looks ready to bolt at any second. Shiro wants to reach out and touch him to offer some sort of comfort, but he doesn’t think now would be the appropriate time.

“What I meant to say,” Allura says, a shaky, nervous smile on her face, “is that I don’t think this… arrangement we have now works for us. I- whenever you two are together, I-” Her breath catches, and she falls silent.

“You get jealous,” Shiro supplies. He understands perfectly; he feels the exact same way.

“Yes. But I’m not sure who I’m jealous of.” She looks at Shiro. He thinks he sees something apologetic in her face, which surprises him more than it should. Of course, these intense feelings he has for Lance bring their fair share of guilt with them, but somehow he hadn’t thought Allura might be having the same problem. “So,” Allura continues, “I think we should change our approach. Let’s stop these separate dates. All of us are together, right? So let’s act like it.”

Shiro chooses not to bring up the fact that they haven’t actually spoken about whether they really are all together like that. This - this arrangement makes sense. This is the piece they’ve been missing.

He looks over at Lance and notices that he, too, seem relaxed. A genuine smile is spread over his face, and he doesn’t look like he wants to run away anymore.

“I’m up for it,” he says, smiling at Allura. She smiles back, and she’s the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Lance says, “me too” and now Shiro does reach out to put a hand on his knee.

“Okay,” Allura says. Then, letting out a large breath of relief, she repeats, “Okay.” For a moment she fidgets in place. Then she asks: “What do we do now?”

Lance grins a wicked grin, and grabs one of their hands each. “I have an idea.” He starts leading them upstairs, in the direction of their bedroom. Neither Shiro nor Allura resists.

Out of the open window drift a few muffled moans, carrying just enough to reach the ears of one of the Shirogane’s perfectly normal, suburban, minivan-having neighbours, sitting on her porch. She turns to her husband and says, “That boy is there again.”

Her husband turns his eyes away from the newspaper he’s reading, to look at the curtain-covered window the strange noises are coming from. “Maybe it’s nothing,” he ventures. It isn’t very convincing, considering he spent nearly an hour speculating who the strange boy coming to the Shirogane’s home was just yesterday.

“Oh, it’s something, alright,” his wife insists, “They’re definitely up to something.”

Chapter Text

There is a noise outside their window. Shiro hears it first, though at the time he pays no mind to it; he’s a little occupied with other things at the moment. Namely, Lance’s mouth wrapped around his dick. Later, though, when he’s taking a break after another mind-blowing orgasm, he hears it again. He can make out a voice, but not what the voice is saying. It sounds angry, though.

“Guys,” he says. Allura and Lance don’t respond. They, too, are a little busy. “Guys,” he repeats, louder and with more urgency. This time, Lance and Allura disentangle enough to look at him. “I think there’s something going on outside.”

“What are you-” Allura stops talking when the voice speaks up again, loud enough this time that some of the words can be understood.

“-just want to… happening… can’t be nothing-”

“Is it just me, or does it sound like there are people in our yard?” Allura asks.

Shiro nods, and rolls of the bed. He moves towards the window, and pulls the curtain apart enough to see some of their neighbors gathered in their yard. Before he has time to wonder what all the commotion is about, one of them looks up. Only when he sees the startled look does he realize he’s undressed, and his naked chest is on display for all to see.

Hurriedly, he closes the curtain. “I think we’d better go downstairs and see what’s happening.”

Allura, a concerned look on her face, immediately gets out of bed to start pulling on her clothes. Lance, who seems to be too dazed to really think clearly, takes a little longer, but eventually starts following her example. Shiro is the last to throw on his clothes and follow the others downstairs.

He gets there just in time to hear Allura ask, “What’s going on?”

Shiro joins Allura and Lance in the door opening, gazing at the neighbors gathered before them over Lance’s shoulder.

Nobody answers Allura’s question. Instead, one of their neighbors - Honerva, Shiro thinks, though he hasn’t really talked to her enough to be sure - points a triumphant figure at her husband. “See! I told you!”

Clearly getting agitated, Allura takes a step towards her. “Sorry? I don’t know what this is about, but I’d prefer you didn’t have a shouting match in our yard at-” she glances down at her wrist to check the time, realizes she doesn’t have her watch on anymore and settles for: “this ungodly hour!”

“We tried telling them to leave you alone…” Hunk offers, from the edge of the small crowd. Shiro hadn’t noticed he and Shay were here before, but now that he does, he does his best to communicate his dire need for help with nothing but his eyes. All Hunk does is shrug helplessly.

Shiro rubs at his neck with a sigh. “Whatever this is, can it wait until morning? We’re kind of busy.” He does his best not to let his eyes stray to Lance as he says this.

“Yeah,” Sendak snorts, “Busy fucking your boytoy.”

A series of outraged gasps follow this proclamation. Shiro moves toward Sendak, ready to give him the punch in the face he deserves, but is stopped by Lance’s hand on his arm. He takes a deep breath to calm down, shooting Lance a grateful smile.

“What! We were all thinking it!” Sendak has to shout to be heard over the noise everybody is making. “Somebody had to say it!”

“No!” Allura says, glaring at everybody to make them quiet down. He glare really is fearsome, and soon enough the shouting has dimmed to the occasional murmur. “That’s not what going on.”

“Then who is that boy?” Honerva asks snidely, while another neighbor chimes in with, “and why were you shirtless?”

Shiro’s mind blanks. Allura freezes in a way he knows means she’s frantically thinking about something. He’s so focused on trying to find a way out of this mess that he doesn’t even notice Lance stepping forward, much less reacts in time to stop him.

“I’m-” his eyes flicker to Allura for the briefest of seconds, the only sign of his hesitation “-Allura’s cousin. I’m studying to be a physical therapist. Shiro’s shirt was off because he’s letting me practice massages on him.”

Shay elbows Honerva. “See? We told you there was a perfectly rational explanation for this.”

Irritated, Honerva shoves her away and glares at Lance. “What if I don’t believe you?”

Lance squares his shoulders and glares right back. “Then that just goes how stupid you are.”

“Alright,” Allura puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder and carefully draws him back. “That’s enough. Everyone, I hope your… concerns have been put to bed. Now will you please, please, get out of our yard?”

“Fine,” Honerva spits, “but this isn’t over. I’ll get to the bottom of this.” With that, she whirls around and stalks off. Slowly, the rest of the crowd starts to follow her example, though Hunk and Shay lag behind.

“Thank you,” Shiro says, “For trying to diffuse the situation. I know it didn’t work but, still- we owe you for this.”

Hunk smiles. “Nonsense.” Abruptly, his eyes shift to something cold, though the smile remains. “Just make sure nothing like this happens again. Shay and I still have to raise our children here.”

“Crisis averted,” Lance cheers, once the door closes behind him. He does a little dance, just to get rid of the excess energy caused by stress. “Now all we have to do is make sure that hag doesn’t get suspicious again, and…” He trails off, noticing the oppressive silence. Taking a good look at Shiro and Allura, he notices that they don’t look happy at all. Lance just averted a crisis; they should be happy, not looking at him like they’re about to tell him his puppy just died. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Shiro and Allura share a look.

“Seriously,” Lance says, bouncing from one foot to the other, “you’re worrying me. There’s nothing wrong, right? I handled it, right?” When they still don’t answer, Lance repeats, “Right?”

“Yeah…” Allura admits. “But what if we can’t, next time? What if somebody finds out?”

“Then we tell them to not be whiny pissbabies and suck it up!” Shiro and Allura share another look. Lance clenches his fists in frustration. “Seriously? Why are you so worried about what your fucking neighbors think?”

Shiro shakes his head. “We’re not. It’s just… There are a lot of kids in this neighborhood, you know? We don’t want to be a bad influence on them…”

Pressure is building behind Lance’s eyes. He really doesn’t want to cry. “A bad influence? What, do you think our - our filthy threesome will - infect them, in some way? For that matter, do you think what we’re doing is bad?”

Once again, Shiro and Allura share a look. Lance takes an angry step forward. “Stop - stop looking at each other like that!”

“Like what, Lance?” Shiro asks. His voice is gentle, infuriatingly so.

“Like - like you know something I don’t. Like you’re keeping something from me. I’m so tired,” he says. Tears are gathering in the corners of his eyes, but he blinks them away. “I’m tired of being left out. Whatever it is you need to say, just say it.”

“We were only trying to spare your feelings,” Allura whispers.

Lance crosses his arms. “Well, don’t. I’m not some sort of child. You can tell me the truth.”

A moment of silence, and then: “We should probably stop doing this.” Shiro’s words cut through the air like a knife. “Stop now, while we’re still ahead.”

The tears finally spill over. Lance scrubs furiously at his eyes, turning away so Allura and Shiro won’t see him cry. “Sure. Whatever,” he says. A hand touches his shoulder, but he shies away from it. “We’ll stop. Just-” He pauses to take a shuddering breath. “If it’s over, let it be over. Don’t - don’t call me.” He glances back at his now ex-lovers one last time, just long enough to catch their stricken expressions, before he stalks out the door, shutting it decisively behind him.

He manages to hold it together during the cab ride home but, predictably, he breaks down the moment he gets back. Keith tries to get him to talk, to tell him what happened, but he ignores him in favor of burying himself under as many blankets as he can find.

He just needs some time, is all. He’ll get over this eventually.

Two weeks later, the Shirogane’s life has gone back to normal. Mostly. Lance’s presence, while faint, still remains. Occasionally one of their neighbors will ask about him; some with concern, but most seem relieved he’s gone. The real trouble, though, is that Allura and Shiro can’t seem to forget him.

Allura decides to talk to Shiro about it after she catches herself thinking about Lance’s eyes - so blue, she could drown in all that blue, gods - for the fifth time that day. They’ve talked about it before, and they agreed they should just wait it out. Eventually they’ll forget about him.

Except, Allura has only been thinking about him more.

“I still miss him,” she admits in the dark quiet of her bedroom. It feels safer, somehow, to admit this all in the dark. In the light she feels so exposed.

Shiro fumbles around for a moment, before his hand finds her. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Me too.”

Allura shuts her eyes tightly, as if to make the darkness even more complete. “It’s not going to get better, is it?”

“I don’t think so,” Shiro whispers.

They’re both silent for a moment, as they think about their options. “I guess,” Allura offers hesitantly, “we really shouldn’t care about what our neighbors think.”

Shiro chuckles softly. “I guess not.” He tightens his grip on her hand, and Allura squeezes back just as hard.

Keith doesn’t know who the couple waiting around outside his building is, but he can take a decent guess.

This is the third time this week they’ve been hanging around outside. The moment he catches sight of them from his window, he stomps downstairs and crosses the street to get right up in their faces.

“Will you give it up already?” He snarls. “Lance doesn’t want to see you. Just go away.”

The guy, who he assumes must be Shiro, takes a startled step back. “What? Who are you?”

Meanwhile, the woman, who then must be Allura, only widens her eyes. “We’re here to make things right.”

“A little late for that, ain’t it?” Keith snaps.

“Wait,” Shiro says slowly, “are you Lance’s roommate? The one who answered the phone that one time?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Mystery solved. Now get lost.”

“No,” the Shirogane’s say at the same time. They look at each other and smile in a way that’s frankly sickening. “We just want to talk to him. I’m pretty sure he blocked our numbers on his phone, so-”

“You’ve done enough talking.” Keith drops his voice and takes a threatening step forward. Both Allura and Shiro are bigger than him, but they still seem intimidated by him. “Lance has been a mess for two weeks now, and it’s all because of you two. You lead him on and then you dropped him like he was nothing.” For a moment, it looks like Shiro might try to say something, but Keith waltzes right over him. He doesn’t have the time or patience to listen to anything this guy has to say. “He keeps crying! He hasn’t been able to go to class! You ruined him, and you’re fucking idiots if you think I’ll ever forgive you for it.”

“Please,” Allura begs, sounding like she’s fighting tears, “We want to apologize.”

“No.” Keith crosses his arms decisively. Then, because Shiro and Allura look so pathetic he takes pity on them, he says: “He’s not here, anyway.”

“We can wait,” Shiro says.

Keith snorts. “You’ll be in for a long wait. He’s going back to New York for a couple of weeks.” At the Shirogane’s confused look, he adds, “He’s going home. I told you, you messed him up. He needs some time away from all that.”

A moment of stunned silence passes before Shiro asks, “He’s at the airport?”

“Yes,” Keith says, “but don’t go after him. Seeing you two is the last thing he needs right now.”

The moment he sees the look in Shiro and Allura’s eyes, he knows it’s useless. In that moment, he’s convinced they’d follow Lance to the end of the earth, if need be.

Allura drives them to the airport, because she has no fear for God or death, and along with a blatant disregard for the speed limit. They run up to the front desk to ask after the next flight to New York, only to be informed that the flight they’re asking about just left. Defeated, Allura sits down on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“We’re too late,” she says. A few tears slip from her eyes to roll over her cheeks.

Shiro slides down to sit next to her. “Yeah. I guess that’s all we can do.” Before long, he too is crying. He doesn’t know how long they sit there, him with his head on his knees and Allura leaning against him, before a voice makes him look up.

“What’s got you two so down?”

“Lance,” he hears Allura gasp, as her weight lifts from his shoulder. Without really thinking about it, he scrambles to stand, nearly slipping a few times before finally managing to keep his footing.

“We-” he says, voice ragged from crying. “Lance, we thought you’d left-”

“I was going to,” Lance says, that same old grin on his face, “but then Keith told me you two losers were looking for me. So I came back.” He looks back and forth between Shiro and Allura. His smile falters, just a little. “So. What now?”

Allura grabs his hand and smiles at him, and then she grabs Lance’s hand and smiles at him too and she say: “We go home. All three of us.”