Chapter Text
"Lance, pick up the pace!" Keith shouted over his shoulder. Shiro glanced back, disappointed to see the blue paladin at least 10 yards behind him.
The jungle was hot and muggy, and the feeling of sweat dripping down his skin was one he didn't think he could bear much longer. His heavy armor wasn't helping either, but the suits were still running a biocompatibility test and he didn't dare take off his helmet until he knew it was safe to do so.
Keith huffed in frustration ahead of him, impatience evident in every sharp movement he made. The alpha had never been particularly patient, and his short temper was on the verge of exploding.
"Not my fault you two are freaking machines," Lance shot back. He most likely meant to sound annoyed, but the breathlessness of his voice took away any sting. Keith growled.
"Just a little further," Shiro said, attempting to ease any tension between the two. He couldn't help, however, the budding impatience welling in his own chest.
They'd crash landed on the jungle planet after a surprise attack from the Galra, and had been separated from the team for two days now. All three had somehow survived the crash with no more than scratches and bruises, but they were completely stranded. Their lions had escaped the planet moments after the paladins had grouped together, leaving them alone and helpless. Shiro tried not to let it get to him too much. Obviously his lion knew something he didn't, and the abandonment had to have been necessary, but if they couldn't find a way back...
Well. It wouldn't be good.
"We only have 20 minutes," Keith reminded them. "We can't miss our window."
They'd gone over the plan a hundred times. After crash landing, they'd found that communicating with the team was nearly impossible. They could only get a signal once a day for five minutes at a time. Pidge had explained that it had something to do with the orbiting moons. Their orbit cycle made it nearly impossible for anything to come in or out of the planet, even radio signals.
"There's only one way to get a ship in, and it's pretty tricky business," she'd explained the night before. "The cycle of the moons only leaves one gap every ten days, and it's only open for 70 ticks. You all need to get to these coordinates by the next window, which is in... seven hours." She'd paused, the only noise that of her computer monitor humming in the background. "Can you guys make it that far that fast?"
"Of course," Shiro had said confidently. "We'll be seeing you all in seven hours."
Now he was a little less confident. He hated to admit it, but Lance really was dragging them down. It was odd, because Shiro had never thought of Lance as being weak or slow up until that point. Sure, he was arrogant and clumsy and sometimes did dumb stuff, but he'd always kept up in missions and was an amazing marksman. He'd wondered absently if it had something to do with his dynamic-- Lance was a beta, which was normally not a problem. However, Shiro had started to notice a huge difference in their levels of tolerance. He'd had never before felt inconvenienced by the blue paladin, but at that moment he couldn't help but be frustrated by the slow pace.
"Guys," Lance panted, pausing to lean against a tree. "I--"
"We don't have time to rest, Lance!" Keith snapped, turning to face the blue paladin angrily. "It's not an option at this point."
"I know, but--"
"Lance, Keith is right," Shiro interrupted, trying to stay calm. "We have to go now ."
"I just--"
"NO, Lance," Shiro snapped, his patience finally wearing out in a rare display of frustration. "This is our only chance to meet the team and get the lions back. We don't have time for you to rest, regardless of how tired you are. You're holding us back, and if you can't push through for 15 more minutes, we're going to miss our chance. Am I understood?"
Lance had remained silent during Shiro's tirade, shrinking in on himself the longer Shiro went on. He nodded soundlessly when Shiro finished, but before they could say anything more, a loud blast sounded from the nearby trees.
"You've got to be kidding me," Shiro heard Keith mutter, and then they were fighting.
It was kind of amazing the way one's instincts could develop-- the sound of blasters firing no longer even startled him. A single blast and he was ready, hand glowing menacingly at his side. In little time the three were swarmed with galra sentries, glowing purple reflecting off of their metal plating. Shiro dropped into a fighting stance, feeling a little grateful for once that he hadn't taken off his armor.
The galra drones had to have followed their tracks from the crash site, Shiro mused as he fought. It couldn't have been difficult-- they'd been trying for speed, after all, not stealth. It was a miracle they'd even made it as far as they did.
"Shiro, cover my left!" Keith shouted, his sword whistling through the air. Shiro turned to see the red paladin nearly surrounded by galra drones. He sliced his way through the few bots around him until he was at Keith's side, galra drones closing in. The rythmic sound of Lance's blaster firing reassured him that the blue paladin was ok, although he couldn't see him over the hordes of galra. He frowned. Why were there so many of them?
"We have to leave now ," Keith growled, slicing clean through a robot's head. Shiro grimaced, noting the time. Thirteen minutes, and still half a mile to go.
"We can make it," Shiro replied, voice full of a confidence he wasn't sure he felt.
"Duck," Keith said in response. Shiro dropped down into a squat, the sound of Keith's sword whistling through the air above him following a mere breath later. Galra drones dropped at his feet, and Shiro was already moving, his galra arm heavy and hot at his side. Keith didn't say another word, but the two danced through the galra as if they could read one another's minds. Every move Shiro made, Keith was following to cover him, and when one moved forward, the other moved back. It was as beautiful as it was ugly, and Shiro let himself get lost in the task at hand. There were no thoughts of Voltron, of their hopeless race to meet the team, of Zarkon plotting somewhere far away. Just the sound of his breath echoing in his helmet and the feeling of metal melting at his touch. It was moments like these, in whatever wretched situation they found themselves in, that he felt the most free.
"Shiro," came Keith's voice, a hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Shiro blinked, suddenly snapping to. Keith stood at his side, his hand gripping Shiro's shoulder like an anchor. They were surrounded by a graveyard of metal, galra drones carpeting the jungle floor. Shiro was still crouched in a fighting stance, and his hand glowed a deadly purple at his side.
"You can relax now, Shiro," Keith said, patting his arm. Shiro immediately relaxed his stance, drawing himself to his full height. His hand faded back to silver and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"Thanks," he said. Keith shrugged.
"Don't sweat it."
Shiro's attention was suddenly drawn to the ticking clock on his helmet visor.
"Quiznak! Keith, we have to go! We only have six minutes before the team..." He stopped. Keith was shaking his head slowly, lips drawn into a scowl.
"We aren't going to make it, Shiro. We missed it."
Shiro's heart dropped into his stomach. Keith was right, of course. There was no way they could make it that far so fast. The next opening was ten days away, and Shiro felt his stomach clench as the reality of their situation sunk in.
"Quiznak," Shiro muttered, drawing a hand across his face slowly. "We're stranded here."
Keith said nothing, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. They stood in silence for a long moment, contemplating the days to come. Shiro was in the middle of brainstorming ways to build a shelter when he heard a loud crunch behind him.
Shiro whipped around, hand already glowing as he scanned the trees for the source of the sound. There were no galra drones, and he paused in confusion a moment before he saw a flash of blue among the shrubbery. His stomach lurched.
" Lance !" Shiro called, scrambling to climb over the piles of galra drones. How he'd managed to forget about the blue paladin, he had no idea. "Lance, are you ok?"
There was no reply. As Shiro drew closer he could make out more details. Lance was slumped at the base of a wide tree, his bayard clenched tightly in a white-knuckle grip. He flinched as Shiro approached him, and Shiro could see his chest heaving.
"Lance, what's wrong?" Shiro demanded, dropping to the blue paladin's side. "Are you hurt?" Vaguely he could hear Keith stepping behind him, the sound of footsteps pausing a slight distance away.
"Shiro," Lance panted, his voice thin. "I wanted-- I tried--"
"What?" Shiro probed, inching closer. His eyes raked over Lance's body, but there were no apparent wounds.
"I tried telling you," Lance finished. He was shaking all over. Shiro felt a rising wave of panic, his mind racing a million miles an hour.
"What happened?" Keith asked, slowly moving to stand at Shiro's side. He was uncharacteristically timid, his voice betraying a sincere concern for the beta.
"I... I'm not sure," Shiro replied. "We need to check for a wound." He pressed a button on his visor, the biocompatibility test appearing on the screen. The test had come back unsure. As far as the armor could tell, it was 84% likely that they would be able to breathe on the planet without space gear. Shiro frowned. Not a high enough percentage to risk Lance's life, but with his own...
It would have to be enough.
Shiro reached up to his helmet, taking a deep breath before pulling it off in one jerky motion. He was immediately bombarded by a wave of heat, the jungle air wet and sticky on his face. The breeze was all but non-existent, but it still felt better than the stale air of his paladin armor.
Shiro took a tentative breath. The air was thick and muggy, but breathable. They were lucky-- the planet was probably one of the few that he'd encountered that had a high enough oxygen level for human survival.
"The air's breathable," Shiro said with relief. It felt freeing to be speaking into the air instead of the close confines of his helmet.
Keith took off his own helmet, his long hair sticking to his face and neck. He dropped into a squat at Shiro's side, face screwed up in concern. As much as Keith tried to hide it, Shiro knew he cared for the blue paladin. Keith had always been pretty bad at showing emotion or vulnerability, but in this moment his emotions were getting the better of his self control.
Lance's breath suddenly hitched, his face contorting, and Shiro snapped his attention back to the matter at hand.
"Lance, we're going to get you fixed up, ok? We're going to take off your armor now to see what's wrong." Shiro reached towards Lance's helmet, but he jerked back violently. His eyes were glazed and frightened, and his chest heaved with every loud breath.
"NO, Shiro, you can't," he panted. "Alpha... can't... not now."
Shiro blinked in confusion, glancing up to see Keith looking equally bewildered.
"Lance, we're just going to check you for injuries," Shiro pressed. Lance seemed to be barely hanging on to consciousness, his eyelids fluttering at every blink. Still, he managed to pull even further away, shaking his head dizzily.
"Just do it, Shiro," Keith demanded, his voice tight with concern. "He barely knows what's going on."
Shiro grimaced, still hesitant to do anything against Lance's will. He had just opened his mouth to say so when Lance suddenly spasmed violently, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Shiro!" Keith shouted in alarm, his voice high and frightened. Shiro didn't hesitate a moment longer. They needed to figure out what was wrong immediately.
Shiro grasped Lance's helmet in his hands, finding the small release mechanism and pushing down. The helmet hissed as air flooded out, and Shiro pulled it off in one smooth motion. He was about to move on to the rest of the armor when Keith suddenly jerked back, gasping sharply.
Shiro was immediately on the defensive, whirling to find the source of Keith's alarm. He scanned the forestry fruitlessly for a moment before turning to look at Keith in confusion.
The red paladin was as pale as a sheet, his eyes wide and panicked. His gaze, however, wasn't on a galra drone or a jungle animal, but rather was frozen to Lance's quivering figure.
"What's wrong?" Shiro asked, searching fruitlessly for the source of Keith's alarm. Keith took a single step backwards, a million expressions crossing his face.
"Keith, what's wrong?" Shiro repeated, more insistently this time. Keith finally tore his gaze from the blue paladin, turning to look at Shiro with wide, frightened eyes.
"He... You... You mean you can't smell it?" he asked, panic mixing with confusion in his dark eyes. Shiro blinked, taken aback.
"Smell what?"
"Shiro, he's... Lance is in heat. He's an omega."
Shiro felt his blood turn cold, his entire body freezing in disbelief.
Lance... an omega?
It wasn't possible. Omega's weren't permitted to attend the Garrison, for one, and besides that, they'd known Lance for months and he couldn't have possibly hidden something so... big. Lance was a goofball, a cocky know-it-all. It just didn't make sense.
At the same time he was desperately trying to deny it, Shiro's rational brain was putting the pieces together. Lance had been slower and weaker that day, which would only make sense if he'd been pushing against an oncoming heat. He was always playful and caring and touchy, and forever tried to be the peacemaker of the team. He was beautiful and soft, but also very sure of himself. Shiro had seen him be merciless when necessary. And now, stranded on a jungle planet, Lance certainly looked like an omega in heat. His face was covered in sweat and he was breathing hard-- panting, really.
Shiro took a shaky breath. Lance was an omega in heat, and Shiro and Keith were both unmated alphas stuck with him on a planet for ten more days.
Their odds were looking slimmer and slimmer every minute.
Keith took another terrified step back, and Shiro snapped his attention back to the matter at hand.
"Ok. Here's what we're going to do," he said, his voice coming out more certain than he felt. "I'm going to stay here with Lance. I can't smell him anyways, so I'll be able to take care of him without getting distracted. Keith, I need you to find a shelter. A cave or fallen tree or something that we can hide out in until the team comes to get us. Ok?"
Keith was still frozen in place, but he managed to draw his gaze to Shiro's face, eyebrows drawn in confusion.
"What do you mean you can't smell?" he asked. Shiro almost wanted to laugh. Of course Keith would focus on a detail so unimportant when there was so much more that needed taken care of.
"Galra," Shiro responded shortly, pointing to the long scar across the bridge of his nose. Keith frowned, about to open his mouth to reply, but Shiro interrupted him quickly.
"A shelter, Keith," he pleaded. "Please."
Keith, fortunately, got the message. He backed away slowly at first, uncertainly, and then broke into a run. Shiro watched him disappear into the foliage, listening until he could no longer hear his footsteps. Then he turned back to Lance, his lips pursed.
This was an issue he'd never once thought he'd have to deal with. And Shiro was a worrywart, so that was saying something. There was a reason omegas weren't accepted at the Garrison-- situations like this could arise, but around alphas with much less self-control. Shiro, fortunately, couldn't smell Lance's heat, although he suspected it would offer him little temptation even if he could smell. He thought of Lance as his kid brother-- his only instincts at this point were just to make sure Lance was safe. He couldn't speak for Keith, though, which was why he sent him away. Better to take precautions than to let the unthinkable happen.
Shiro slowly lowered himself to Lance's level, gently placing a hand on his forehead. It was burning hot.
"Lance, buddy, are you in there?"
Lance's eyelids fluttered, his eyebrows screwing together.
"Shiro?" he mumbled, his eyes opening a bare sliver.
"Yeah, it's me. How are you feeling, kiddo?" he asked gently. Lance's eyes slid closed, a tiny puff of air escaping his lips.
"Not too good," he finally said, his voice thin.
"Yeah, you don't look too good," Shiro replied, trying for light-heartedness. Lance, however, gave no reaction. It seemed to take all his energy just to open his eyes and speak even the few words he'd already said. Shiro frowned in concern. He really had no experience with omegas in heat, but from what he'd learned in school, this didn't seem exactly normal.
"Ok Lance, I think we ought to get this armor off of you," he said, brushing his hand back through Lance's sweaty mop of hair. Lance's eyes slid open again, the smallest flash of blue visible beneath his thick lashes.
"Shiro..." Lance started, his gaze slowly flickering up to rest on Shiro's face. "I'm in heat."
Shiro would have laughed if not for the sorrow and shame that was so nakedly obvious in Lance's voice. Instead, he smiled softly, brushing his fingers through Lance's hair again.
"I know, buddy. Don't worry. We're going to be down here a few more days, so we're just going to have to tough it out. Ok?"
Lance nodded, the motion so small that Shiro would have missed it if he hadn't been looking closely. Lance closed his eyes again, all his energy seemingly sapped from their short conversation. Shiro watched him with concern for a moment, his eyes following the movement of Lance's chest as if afraid it was suddenly going to stop. He almost moved to start on Lance's armor, but then thought better of it. If they took it all off now, they'd have to find a way to carry it all with them to their new shelter, wherever that may be. No, better to wait and take it all off when they were properly settled.
In the meantime, Shiro figured he could at least help the kid get as comfortable as possible. Slowly, he sat himself down on the forest floor, rearranging Lance's limp form until he was flat on the ground, his head pillowed on Shiro's thigh.
Lance didn't move once throughout the entire ordeal, other than the quick and uneven hitching of his chest as he breathed. He was like putty in Shiro's hands, completely limp and compliant as Shiro tried to help him get comfortable.
They stayed like that for a long time, the only sounds those of small animals in the shrubbery and Lance's halting breath. Shiro continued to run his fingers through Lance's hair, the motion more for his benefit than Lance's at that point. Lance's forehead was still burning hot beneath his fingers, and he once again found himself questioning the normality of the situation.
He'd never been around an omega in heat before. His parents were both alphas, and his little sister still hadn't presented when he'd left earth. There were no omegas at the Garrison, and before that he'd only attended private alpha schools. In short, the basis of his understanding came directly from his high school health class, and he couldn't say he'd paid much attention to omega biology.
Still, what he remembered learning about omega heats didn't really add up with what Lance was experiencing. He'd thought it was supposed to be more... pleasurable, at least. And the flush to Lance's cheeks was far from enticing-- he just looked sick and weak. Shiro wished he could smell-- in that moment, it could have been helpful. Lance's scent may be saying something the blue paladin couldn't.
Shiro's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of movement to his left. He remained frozen a moment, listening, then relaxed as Keith emerged from amongst the shrubbery.
"Did you find anything?" Shiro asked, his voice soft. Keith hesitated a few yards away, eyes flickering back and forth between Shiro and Lance's prone figure sprawled across his lap.
"Yeah," Keith said, crossing his arms. Shiro knew he did that when he was uncomfortable. "There's a cave not too far from here. It's right next to a spring of water, so it should be perfect."
Shiro grinned. "Good work, Keith."
Keith softened slightly, nodding minutely to accept the praise. Shiro had learned early on that Keith was almost desperate for recognition-- to feel valued and wanted. Shiro was happy to oblige. He did value and want Keith on their team, so the encouragement came naturally. He supposed uplifting his teammates came as part of being the leader.
"How's he doing?" Keith asked, concern once again bleeding through into his voice. Shiro grimaced, glancing down at Lance's limp form.
"Not too good," he replied quietly. "I don't know the first thing about heats, but this doesn't seem… right."
"What do you mean?" Keith asked, looking confused.
"He's really hot, for one--" Shiro began, but Keith interrupted him with a scowl.
"Well it is called a heat , Shiro."
"Yes, I know. But he seems more sick than anything. What does he smell like to you?"
Keith immediately tensed up, looking very much like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
"I-- Well, like an omega in heat," he finally bit out, looking flushed and uncomfortable. Shiro mentally sighed. Keith could be so… difficult about these things.
"Yes, but is there anything off about it? Any bitterness?"
"I don't know, Shiro. I don't even know what Lance smells like normally," Keith said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I'm not some kind of scent doctor."
"I didn't say you were," Shiro said patiently, somehow managing to not roll his eyes. "But even if you don't know Lance's natural scent, you should still be able to sense if he's distressed. Think about it. What are your instincts telling you to do right now?"
"Nothing," Keith bit back, somehow tensing even further.
"Keith, you're an alpha and Lance is an omega in heat. At the very least I'd expect for there to be some kind of protective instinct coming up," Shiro said patiently. "It's normal to feel like you want to help him."
Keith scowled, eyes darting away to glare at an unassuming patch of moss. Shiro waited, letting Keith mull over what he'd said. He'd never wanted his smell back as much as he did now.
"He smells sour," Keith finally said, breaking the silence. His eyes remained glued to the forest floor, and Shiro could see his jaw clench and unclench. "I don't know how to help him and it's freaking me out."
Shiro sighed, relieved. At least he didn't need to worry about Keith trying to jump the poor boy, at least not right then.
"That's ok, Keith. Honestly, I don't know if I know how to help him either." Keith glanced up at him, looking like Shiro's words were really not that helpful. "But we're going to figure it out. First, we need to get Lance to that shelter you found. Do you know how to get back?"
Keith nodded, eyes flickering down to Lance's unconscious figure. "He's going to be too heavy for you to carry."
Shiro shrugged, smiling a little. "I'll be ok. Lance is all skin and bones. And if I get too tired, I'll just give you a turn."
Keith looked like he wanted to faint at the very idea, but Shiro just chuckled. Keith would be alright. And Shiro would be there to make sure everything went smoothly. He trusted Keith, and he knew that Lance trusted him too. It was just a matter of getting Keith to trust himself.
What could possibly go wrong?