Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lotor ran.

    Not as hard as he could, of course; it was far too early for him to waste his energy like that. It was a steady, ground-eating pace, one he could (hopefully) keep up for hours, if need be.

    He had a head start, and so it was prudent for him to put as much space between him and his pursuer as he could, but he needed a plan , too. 

    He was only half-Galra, and while his blood was meant to carry oxygen and nutrients as efficiently as possible, his heart was already beating triple-time, and his lungs could not quite expand to full capacity, due to the inflexibility of his Altean rib cage. 

    He could not outrun and outlast his wholly Galra pursuer, no matter what sort of head start he’d had. Galra were persistence predators, capable of running any other creature down, whether it took hours or days.

    He might try standing his ground and fighting, but that was doomed to fail, too: he was dressed only in his thin flight suit, and he had no weapons, and his pursuer was much larger and stronger than he. 

    He culdn’t run forever, and he couldn’t stand and fight… What did that leave him with?

    (He had a distress beacon strapped around one wrist, if he truly needed to call the game off, but he wouldn’t, not so soon.)

    The tall grass, which reached well above his head, hid the night sky from him, just as it hopefully hid his movements from his pursuer.

    He didn’t need the stars to navigate; this planet’s magnetic field gave him a good idea of where he was and where he was going, and he’d studied the map of this area before he’d landed.

    He broke out of the grass, skidding to a sudden stop at the rim of a canyon. 

    (‘Canyon’ was perhaps too generous a term.) 

    The ravine was too wide for him to jump across, and anyway, it marked the border of their field of play.

    Lotor stopped to catch his breath and consider his options.

    One: he could go back the way he came. A stupid idea; he’d just run right into his pursuer.

    Two: he could stay here, set up some kind of ambush. Not the worst plan, but not a particularly good plan, either. There was nowhere to hide here.

    Three: he could follow the ravine upstream. It was uphill, but the river was at surface level in about half a mile, and the running water might hide his scent from his pursuer. The night was not cold, and so hypothermia shouldn’t be an issue.

    There was also no wind, so the grass shouldn’t be rustling, but-

    Time to go.

    His heart rate hadn’t settled back to resting, but unless he wanted to get caught so soon, he needed to put distance between himself and the pursuer. 

    His pursuer already had his scent; that much was certain. The river was his best bet.

    He ducked back into the cover of the grass -he felt so exposed along the rim of the ravine -and picked up his pace.

    His senses were not as sharp as his pursuer’s, but he could hear the river and smell the water and sense the magnetic north. He might be a little short of breath, but his muscles weren’t tired yet. He could keep going.

    He had to keep going.

    The grass turned into chaparral after some time, dense enough to be difficult for Lotor to get through; surely his pursuer would have more difficulty, unless he stuck to the rim of the ravine; what fear would he have of being thus exposed? Nothing on this planet wanted to hunt him . 

    The sound of the river drew closer, and Lotor  broke out of the chaparral onto the riverbank. The river was wide and lazy here, bending back around to the east, back to his landing site. 

    It seemed shallow enough for him to wade in with relative ease, so he removed his boots and rolled up the legs of his flight suit.

    The water was brisk, but not too cold, and the bottom was largely sand -probably glacial sediment washed downstream. Moving through the river would slow him down, but hopefully it would hide his tracks enough that it wouldn’t matter.

    He couldn’t hear his pursuit, but he had no doubt it was there, perhaps just beyond the range of his hearing, and that made his heart beat just as fast as running did.

    Even a quarter mile in the river would at least confuse his pursuer.

    (And then what? He still had no plan.)

    Every minute he remained uncaught was a victory.

    But he would eventually be caught, and then what?

He’d be exhausted by then, utterly helpless…

Lotor shivered (not from the cold). 

    He waded until he came to a stretch of rapids. It would be dangerous to try to traverse them. He wasn’t a strong swimmer, and even if he was, the sharp, slick rocks were hazardous enough. 

    He wasn’t quite ready to leave the river yet, though. Not without some way of hiding his tracks.

    There was a copse of trees, with low-hanging branches that projected far over the river.

    Low enough for Lotor to grab and haul himself up into the canopy.

    He took a moment to catch his breath and put his boots back on, trying to inhale as deeply as his rib cage allowed.

    The trees weren’t particularly tall, but they were still the tallest things around. Maybe…

    Once his heart wasn’t trying to escape his chest anymore, Lotor set about climbing up to the highest point of the copse. His night vision was slightly below average for a Galra, but the stars provided enough light even for his eyes.

    He saw the chaparral, and beyond that, the grasslands.

    To the east, his landing site, his ship gleaming dully in the dark. He could only just make out the orange glare of his carefully banked fire, where dinner was waiting.

    He’d been at this for hours already, and while he wasn’t especially thirsty (Daibazaal had been very dry most of the year), he was hungry.

    The pursuit would be over soon enough. 

    He turned, scanning the rest of the environment for his pursuer.

    Nothing.

    No movement. 

    The chaparral wouldn’t betray movement the way that the grass did, but even so-

    He knew his pursuer didn’t need rest the way he did, and surely he was too large to move with complete stealth. 

    There was no way the pursuit had been called off; once a Galra got on the scent of prey, there was very little that would stop them. 

    (The distress signal -a two-way model -was silent and dark on his wrist.)

    He scanned the scenery before him again. The night air was still and quiet; the only thing he could hear was his still-ragged breath. 

    Cautiously, he climbed down from the far end of the copse, as far from the river as he could get.

    He could not quite force himself into anything faster than a brisk jog, but hopefully-

    Something slammed into him, bearing him down to the ground, brutal and fast.

    Lotor thrashed as much as he could, adrenaline forcing his body past exhaustion. He tried to roll over, to face his attacker, to kick or bite or punch or claw-

    His pursuer pinned him down by the back of his neck, keeping his face pressed into the dirt. 

    That didn’t stop Lotor from struggling futilely, despite his pursuer’s warning growl. 

    Suddenly, the full weight of his pursuer was on him, pinning him in place, and for all that Lotor wanted to struggle, it was simply impossible. 

    He growled, but it was a weak, breathless sound, and his pursuer merely laughed.

    The feeling of fangs on the back of his neck -long and sharp and brutal -turned his blood to ice. One wrong move, and those fangs could easily paralyze him, if they didn’t kill him outright. 

    He went limp, out of instinct and exhaustion. Hopefully this would be over quickly. He’d already lost; no reason to drag this out.

    Sure enough, the catches at the crotch of his flighsuit were undone, and his legs and flightsuit were shoved open.

    He screamed as he was split open by his pursuer’s thick, hot cock, his toes curling in his boots. He couldn’t escape from the onslaught (not that he really wanted to); he could only take it.

    It was brutal. Some primal, Galra instinct drove his pursuer on, the success of a good hunt turning into a savage lust.

    Lotor could hardly blame him: he’d been half-hard from pure anticipation for most of the chase.

    The pursuer, apparently satisfied that Lotor wouldn’t try anything, removed his fangs from Lotor’s neck, and sat back, still viciously fucking him.

    His mistake. Lotor hated losing. 

    Lotor broke free, using his pursuer’s distraction to his advantage.

    (Yes, he could have absolutely stayed put and enjoyed the brutal, primal fucking, but where was the fun in that?)

    Unfortunately, one should never attempt to run from a Galra, no matter how distracted they might seem. The prey drive was still incredibly strong, especially under certain circumstances (circumstances like these).

    The pursuer pounced before Lotor got five feet, bearing them both back down to the ground. 

    This time, at least, Lotor was on his back, and was able to pull a knee up to his belly, forcing a little space between them. His other leg was pinned beneath one of his pursuer’s.

He slashed at the pursuer’s eyes, hissing and growling like a feral thing, driving his knee up into his pursuer’s exposed belly.

(Literally exposed; the pursuer had his flightsuit rolled down to his waist, likely to prevent overheating.)

The pursuer pinned both of Lotor’s wrists together over his head, far enough away that all leverage was stolen from him. He only needed one hand to do it, which had Lotor seething.

“Keep fighting,” the pursuer growled. “I can go all night.”

He could, too; Lotor might be running on empty, but this was an adult Galra in peak physical condition.

Lotor kneed him again. 

His pursuer took that knee and pressed it back towards Lotor’s shoulder, leaving him utterly unable to move, unable to do anything but take what was coming to him.

The pursuer bit down on his collar bone, hard , hard enough to draw blood, which he then lapped up. 

Then he kissed Lotor, smearing the blood on both their faces.

Lotor felt dizzy, from breathlessness, from adrenaline, from arousal; it all boiled together in his veins.

The pursuer thrust against Lotor’s ass a few times, almost a tease, except they must both have been too impatient for any teasing, after all that foreplay; another thrust, and Lotor was once more impaled on that glorious cock.

The pursuer fucked him, harder than Lotor had been fucked in a long while, and Lotor finally admitted defeat.

The pursuer, seeming to sense that somehow, released Lotor’s knee, and instead of pushing him away with it, Lotor slung his leg over his pursuer’s hip to pull him closer. 

It was wonderful. That cock stole his breath with every thrust, forcing its way inside, leaving Lotor’s body no choice but to accommodate.

He felt his heart pounding in every part of his body still, playing counterpoint to the pounding he was receiving, making him feel fuller than ever before, more alive than ever before.

The pursuer released his other leg, guiding it up around his hips with the other; Lotor locked his ankles together and used this leverage to force himself back against every thrust, wanting that cock deeper , harder . 

“ Sendak ,” he pleaded. “Sendak, Sendak !”

Sendak growled (more playfully this time), and leaned down to mouth at Lotor’s throat. He pressed his tongue to the pulsepoint underneath Lotor’s jaw, feeling it hammer away. He traced his fangs over the soft, vulnerable skin of Lotor’s throat.

It would be so easy for him to bite down and tear Lotor’s throat out, and there would be nothing Lotor could do to stop it. 

Lotor shuddered, his cock throbbing in time to his heartbeat. “ Sendak .”

Sendak kissed him again, vicious and feral, all teeth and tongue, utterly dominating Lotor’s mouth the way he’d dominated every other part of him. 

It was so good, and Lotor never wanted it to end. He could no longer tell if this was punishment or reward or somehow both, but it hardly mattered. 

Sendak was not exhausted, and that was clear from the way he fucked Lotor, almost as if he was still on the hunt, merciless and determined and singleminded. He knew exactly what Lotor liked and what he didn’t, knew how to be quick and knew how to make it last for hours . 

A sudden shift in Sendak’s tempo, his hips, and Lotor came utterly undone, breathlessly calling out for Sendak.

Sendak bit down on Lotor’s other collar bone, giving him a matching set of bite marks, and came too.

Lotor was too exhausted to push Sendak off of him, and anyway, now that his sweat was starting to cool, Sendk’s warmth was quite nice.

He could just lay here and enjoy this for the rest of the night. Maybe the rest of his life.

Sendak allowed him to bask in the afterglow for a while, and then he pulled away. “Alright, my love,” he said, “let’s get back to the ship. You need to eat and rest.”

Lotor hissed at him; Sendak just laughed and picked Lotor up.

“You can’t carry me all the way back,” Lotor protested.

“Of course I can. It’s not that far, and you’re exhausted. Actually, I want to get out the nebulizer when we get back. I heard you wheezing.”

“This was your idea, as I recall.”

“It was supposed to be fun,” Sendak pointed out. “Not a way for you to kill yourself.”

“I had fun.”

“You pushed yourself too hard, my love,” Sendak said. 

“If you were that concerned, you wouldn’t have fucked me first,” Lotor grumbled, as he did anytime Sendak brought up his limitations. 

“You would have fought me the entire way back if I didn’t uphold my end of the bargain,” Sendak said. “Now, I can have my way with you, and you’re as docile as a kitten.”

Lotor grumbled some more, and Sendak just laughed and kissed his forehead. 

Sendak’s steady walking pace lulled him into a light sleep, but he woke when Sendak set him down next to the banked fire.

The smell of roasting meat made his mouth water.

“Here,” Sendak said, draping a blanket over Lotor’s shoulders. “Can’t have you catching a chill.”

He sat down next to Lotor, and pulled him close, before cutting the choicest portions off of the roast and giving them to Lotor.

Lotor was too hungry to protest, and anyway, they’d be here for a few more weeks; plenty of time to catch more game.

He leaned up against Sendak, pressing in as close as possible. “I love you,” he murmured. “Happy anniversary.”

Chapter Text

Sendak watched Lotor sleep for a few moments. He always looked so peaceful when he slept, especially when he was completely worn out. 

    Sendak liked him like this: the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheeks, the even rise and fall of his chest, the utter laxness of his body.

    He knew that Lotor was deeply asleep; the nebulizer treatment tended to have that effect, and so Lotor often resisted using it if he was alone or felt unsafe.

    He needed it, though, or risk diaphragmatic spasms so intense that he couldn’t breathe.

    Tonight, it had been easy enough to convince Lotor to do the treatment. Lotor had been too worn out to resist, and anyway, Sendak made sure he always felt safe when it was just the two of them.

    After dinner and the treatment and their shower, Sendak had asked Lotor what he’d like to sleep in, and Lotor had mischievously chosen to wear one of Sendak’s old shirts -threadbare and much too large for him -and nothing else.

    And well… Their game had been fun, but.

    Sendak could have kept going for much longer -days, maybe -and so he was still… revved up. It wasn’t Lotor’s fault, of course; his lungs just didn’t have the capacity he needed for his body to carry on for long during such an intense game.

    But the shirt… 

    The shirt meant…

    And Sendak had asked, pressing a kiss to Lotor’s shoulder, if he was sure, and Lotor had the audacity to laugh at him, so it was basically settled.

    It wasn’t that Sendak didn’t want to, either. This was far from the first time, and it was a different pleasure to fuck Lotor while he slept.

    (Just as it was a different pleasure to wake to Lotor riding him, both of them on the verge of orgasm.)

    Sendak kicked his pants off, still gazing at Lotor. He truly was the prettiest thing Sendak had ever seen, and he was so enticing while he slept, vulnerable and adorable.

    Sendak could do anything he wanted, and Lotor would never know.

    (Not that he would do anything he knew Lotor would object to, but-)

    A couple of brisk strokes to the opening of his sheath coaxed his cock out, already mostly hard. He had been, all night, just from the thrill of the hunt, and he had known it would take more than just catching Lotor to get it all out of his system.

    (Lotor had obviously caught onto that, too, and had purposefully used their signal to let Sendak know it was alright if he took what he needed.)

    He’d already taken the liberty of bumping the thermostat up a few degrees, so that Lotor would be comfortable when he finally pulled back the sheets. The shirt had bunched up a little around Lotor’s thighs as he slept, practically taunting Sendak.

    Sendak slid a hand up from Lotor’s knee, to the hem of the shirt, feather-light; Lotor didn’t stir. 

    And now Sendak had to figure out what exactly he wanted to do to his husband. The possibilities were nearly endless. It would take quite a bit to wake Lotor up when he was in this state, and Sendak had no real desire to hurt him.

    He turned Lotor onto his back, pushing the shirt up a little further, just far enough to expose his groin.

    As expected, his sheath was completely sealed and flat. Lotor had been relaxed, but not aroused, when he went to sleep.

    Sendak knew exactly how to fix that. 

    He nudged Lotor’s thighs apart and bent down to lick at the opening of his sheath.

    Sendak loved to listen to the sounds Lotor made when he did this while he was awake, the moans and sighs and cries of pleasure. 

    This was good too; the signs of Lotor’s enjoyment were much more subtle, but Sendak knew his body as intimately as possible, and he knew what the slight hitch in Lotor’s breath meant. He could feel the flush of Lotor’s inner thighs, the minute twitches in his muscles. 

    It did not take long at all for his sheath to start opening, for the taste of clean skin to be replaced by the salty tang of Lotor’s arousal. 

    Lotor did not need to be aroused for Sendak to take him, he knew. It was not part of their agreement that Lotor had to orgasm when he allowed Sendak to play with him while he slept, and in fact, he’d seemed surprised that Sendak had even asked, as if he’d expected Sendak to just use him for his own pleasure.

    While the idea had its appeal… Sendak enjoyed pleasuring his partners, and derived the greater portion of his own enjoyment from it.

    Besides, it did something for Sendak’s ego to know that, even asleep, Lotor’s body craved his touch. That he could make Lotor come when he was basically unconscious.

    Lotor sighed softly as his cock emerged in Sendak’s mouth. Sendak lifted his eyes, to make sure he was still asleep. He was, though his eyes were moving rapidly back and forth behind his eyelids.

    Sendak hoped he was having sweet dreams.

    Sendak slipped one finger into the space behind Lotor’s cock, gently pressing against the inner, extremely sensitive, base of his cock. Sendak didn’t care for the sensation, but it drove Lotor crazy. 

    Even now, Lotor’s hips jerked upwards, and more fluid spilled into Sendak’s mouth and onto his hand. 

    The taste of Lotor was what drove Sendak crazy, and he’d often thought he could die happy with his face buried in Lotor’s groin. 

    He allowed himself a few moments to enjoy himself, before glancing up at Lotor’s face again, to make sure he wasn’t breathing too hard. Most of the time, he could control his breathing well enough while awake, but asleep, Sendak needed to be more careful.

    Lotor’s chest was still rising and falling evenly, a little faster than his normal sleeping rate, but not dangerously so. Good. 

    Sendak slipped a second finger into him. He didn’t really understand how it wasn’t painful for Lotor, but Lotor insisted that he loved it. 

    Asleep, he was far more relaxed than he was awake, and so it was relatively easy, though the soft walls of Lotor’s sheath still clamped down on Sendak’s fingers.

    Sendak fucked him lazily with his fingers for a little while, and when he pulled them out, he was quite pleased with how wet they were, beads of slick dripping down Sendak’s hand, and strands of it still connecting Sendak’s fingers to Lotor’s sheath.

    Sendak nuzzled Lotor’s lower belly, pleased with himself. “Oh baby,” he murmured. “My little slut .” 

    He moved away, and Lotor whimpered in his sleep, his hips twitching at the loss.

    “Hush,” Sendak said, rolling Lotor onto his side with his clean hand. “I’ve got you, baby.”

    Lotor’s entrance was still puffy and relaxed from earlier, and it was so easy for Sendak to slip his slick-covered fingers into him. It was also utterly filthy , using Lotor’s own slick as lube, but it was so arousing that Sendak had to take a moment to collect himself.

    (He’d leave that part out when he told Lotor about this later, although Lotor would probably figure it out anyway. Brat .)

    Sendak pressed his forehead to the back of Lotor’s neck and pressed his cock into him, after removing his fingers. Lotor’s body accepted the intrusion so easily and wonderfully, like Sendak’s cock was meant to fit there.

    Lotor made a small sound in his sleep, and Sendak froze, not wanting to wake him. 

    Lotor didn’t wake, and after a few moments, it was hard to remain frozen, so Sendak cautiously started moving, peppering Lotor’s neck and shoulders with little kisses and bites.

    “Gods, you’re perfect,” Sendak murmured. He was so lucky that Lotor had married him, that Lotor was his.

    (They were also lucky that both of them were absolute freaks in bed.)

    Sendak fucked him for a long time, pausing whenever it seemed like Lotor was on the verge of wakefulness, which really prolonged the experience.

    Sendak almost wanted to do this all night, starting and stopping at intervals so he could keep going and going and going…

    He doubted Lotor would mind.

    But.

    He could finally feel his growing exhaustion catching up to him. Having Lotor’s warm, lax body in his arms tempted him towards sleep.

He hitched Lotor’s leg up over his hip, opening him up and changing the angle. Lotor’s breath quickened -though not dangerously so -and Sendak nipped at his ear. “That’s it, baby, let me take care of you.”

Lotor moaned, a soft, sleepy, unabashed sound that he would never allow himself to make while awake (another perk of this arrangement).

Sendak had to stifle his groan. He really didn’t want to wake Lotor; he just wanted to make him come.

“Baby,” Sendak said, his mouth pressed to Lotor’s shoulder. “Baby, you don’t know what you do to me.”

And Lotor didn’t even have to do anything. 

Sendak reached down, between Lotor’s legs, and slid a finger into Lotor’s sheath.

Lotor’s body tightened up as he came. “ Mm…Sendak… ”

Sendak froze, hoping he hadn’t woken Lotor up, but then he realized…

Lotor was still asleep, and even in his sleep, he knew exactly who had made him come.

Sendak could not stop himself from coming at this revelation. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, “ fuck .”

How was Lotor literally so perfect?

Sendak fucked him through the aftershocks of both their orgasms, until Lotor was whining and shifting his hips in his sleep, the overstimulation seeping through.

Sendak did not particularly want to separate himself from Lotor, even just enough to pull out. Lotor’s body fit perfectly in his arms, soft and warm, his breath evening out once more, and it was a pleasure and an honor to be allowed this close to a man who trusted so few.

So…he didn’t pull out. There was a chance, as his cock softened, that it would resheathe itself on its own, and if not… Well. Lotor wouldn’t mind. 

“I love you,” Sendak whispered, hoping Lotor would hear it in his dreams, and settled down to sleep.

It took Sendak a few moments to figure out what had woken him.

Lotor, of course, thrusting back against Sendak’s cock, hard once more (as it usually was when Lotor and a bed were involved).

“Did you have fun last night?” Lotor asked, sounding more awake than Sendak felt.

Sendak hummed a reply, nuzzling the back of Lotor’s neck as he slung an arm over his hips, pinning him in place, flush against Sendak’s. “‘S too early, my love.”

Lotor wriggled as much as he was able, which wasn't much. “You got to have your fun last night,” he pouted. “Now it’s my turn.”

Sendak huffed a little laugh and kissed the back of his neck. “Alright, my love,” he conceded, because he could rarely deny Lotor anything. He pulled out and rolled onto his back, and Lotor followed, now facing Sendak as he straddled his hips, sinking right back down onto his cock. “Shall I tell you about it?”

Lotor’s eyes got big and dark, and he nodded.

Sendak pulled him down for a proper kiss, placing one hand on Lotor’s hips in order to guide his motions.

“First,” he began, “you should know that you are truly exquisite when you sleep…”