Archive of Our Own ^beta

Being allies with Voltron certainly had it perks. More resources and insight to help defeat his father and that witch were definitely a big one. The opportunity to talk to actual Alteans were another that he never thought he'd be able to take advantage of; not to mention that fighting alongside the giant robot if legend, rather than against it was also appreciated.

None of these things, however, compared to here and now, standing at the edge of the training deck, watching the Paladin that had caught his eye not so long ago swing his sword at the training dummies. The stretch of muscle under that pale skin, the glistening of sweat, that dark hair flipping with every move; well, it was downright captivating. He'd seen the man fight in the midst of battle, yes, but unfortunately he’d been covered with armor at the time. Now he wore only dark, baggy pants, and Lotor couldn't help the way his eyes roved over his bare torso. It wasn't his fault this man had such a spectacular body.

Keith. That was the name that belonged to the swordsman that held his attention, as he'd only recently learned. Keith, who had slashed down the last dummy and was sheathing the sword-turned-knife (was that a luxite blade? Oh, Lotor had much to learn about him, it seemed) before turning with dark eyebrows raised.  Lotor quickly schooled his expression to one of mild curiosity rather than the raging interest he truly felt as the man walked closer.

"Enjoy the show?" He asked, his voice deep and husky. The sound of it sent a thrill down Lotor's spine.

"Mmm," he hummed, "you are quite skilled. I can't say I'm not impressed."

Keith grinned and his eyes dragged lazily over Lotor's form. "Would you like to take a shot?"

"What, spar with you?" Lotor leaned forward, "Only if you think you can keep up."

Mindlessly fiddling with the hilt of his knife, Keith shrugged. "Try me."

Two little words, a simple proposition, yet the man managed to make them sound so combative, Like he knew he would win this challenge. Lotor wondered what made him so certain, wanted to both prove him wrong and right at the same time.

He walked to the weapons rack on the adjacent wall, running his fingers over the various objects. He paused on a simple, elegant sword, his lips quirking as he drew it from its place. With the grace of a dancer, he turned and pointed the blade at Keith. "Lets see what a Paladin of Voltron can do on his own."

"I'm not just a paladin." Keith said as he drew his knife, the blade glowing as it shifted to its larger form. Lotor was momentarily distracted; that certainly didn't look like something a human from Earth would own. His eyes flicked back to the determined face framed by dark hair. He swallowed. Not just a paladin, indeed.

"Enough talk. Let's dance."

Who moved first? Both men sprang into action too fast to tell. Blades flashed as they swung to their adversaries, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the room. Even as he concentrated, Lotor still managed to admire how Keith's body twisted and spun as though spurred by a burning flame. Lotor sprang and lunged and was more than a little pleased that Keith proved to be more of a challenge than most. Sweat plastered his casual shirt to his purple body as he leapt to the side to avoid the edge of that glittering blade.

Keith was a challenge, but Lotor was still confident in his own abilities. Confident that he would soon win. Too confident, it seemed, as he overstepped and Keith seized his opportunity, managing to knock his larger opponent to the ground. Lotor huffed as his head made contact with the mat below them, his vision swimming momentarily, before focusing on the man that leaned over him. Keith, who was straddling his waist and pinning his wrists above his head, wore a triumphant smile like a trophy.

Shining purple eyes pinned Lotor more than the hands around his wrists and his heart began to thump unevenly. Both of their chests heaved, both were covered in sweat, but Keith was almost glowing. There was a silence as Lotor could only gaze up at him, having momentarily lost his vocal chords. Slowly, Keith's grin faded and he cleared his throat, sitting up and releasing the wrists. Still, Lotor didn't move, merely watching the man with what was almost reverence.

"Good match." Keith rolled off of Lotor, who mourned the loss of the weight against him.

"Indeed." Lotor agreed, after finally locating his missing voice. Slowly, he drew his arms down and planted his hands firmly at his sides. He began to push himself up, but paused at the sight of a pale, proffered hand. His eyes flicked up to Keith's blank face, then back down to the hand, which he grasped in one of his own. The contact spent sparks shooting down his arm, which he ignored as he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

Keith dropped his hand and looked away, scratching at his neck. "I'm going to hit the showers."

"I should do the same."

Looking again at him, Keith give a small jerk of his head in the direction of the door. "Let's go, then."

Keith was still glowing. Lotor wondered what had caused that.

"You really are more than just a paladin." He wasn't sure why said that. He wasn't sure why his heart was still pounding, or why he wanted to close the distance between the two of them, or why he didn't mind losing their little match if it meant Keith looking like that.

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Keith's chest. It sounded like a song Lotor wanted to listen to again and again. "You're something else, Lotor."

Even the sound of his name on that tongue sounded like music.

With a small jolt of alarm, Lotor realized that this was much more than mere physical attraction. That, he could live with. That was no big deal. But he wanted to get to know Keith, make him laugh until he was out of breath, make him happy. That changed things. This was turning into a dangerous attachment. He had to do something about it.

For now, he would settle for heading for the showers and then asking Keith if he wanted to spar again some time. Maybe they'd talk between now and sparring session number two. Maybe they'd even become friends.

Lotor was going to have to swallow the urge to pin Keith to the wall and kiss him senseless and substitute it with pinning him to the training mat. He could live with that.

He just had to stop himself from feeding the attachment he could already feel growing.

Keith smiled at Lotor, his violet eyes flashing, and he knew he was fucked.