Day 7! Alright guys, last story, so let's finish it off with some angst. This is totally theLiterator's fault, FYI. Day 7 was the 'Free Day' of the week, and I may have been the one who brought up A/B/O (it's been on my mind lately) but she definitely asked for... this thing. And she enjoyed it too so like, no real guilt here. XD Enjoy!
Warnings for: Brief explicit sexual scene, mentions of Mpreg, and past forced sterilization.
The thought occurs to him while he's got Shiro spread out on their bed, mouth and fingers between his thighs as he brings his partner off. Shiro's still, restrained except for the trembling of his thighs, and the way he's biting down on his metal fingers. He mentioned once how hot he thought that was, and it went miles towards helping Shiro accept the Galra limb as part of him now, not just a tacked on reminder.
He rocks his fingers in as he sucks Shiro off, determined to get him off once and make him loose and pliant before he takes him, when he looks up and gets a flash of sense-memory. Of holding Shiro down with an arm across his hips, occupied just like this, as Shiro sweated and cried out and the scent…
It's a good thing that he can't speak with Shiro in his mouth, because he probably would have spat it out right there, in what might be one of the worst possible moments for this realization. It being that Shiro hasn't had a heat since he's been back.
He shoves the thought down, underneath the importance of satisfying Shiro and then coaxing him to sleep afterwards, after they've come loose. The next day he does the math, and then concludes that something isn't right. Shiro's been back for almost four months; even if he'd ended a heat the day before escape he should have had another by now. He can't base it off of anyone else, since they're frustratingly all alphas, but his timing is right. He's sure of it. (Pidge hasn't presented officially yet, but early assignment has advanced to nearly perfect levels; the chance that she's not going to be an alpha are a million to one.)
Coran did excuse himself for what turned out to be almost four days one time, but… He doesn't know if that was omega-related, or just a weird Coran thing. The Alteans don't smell the same, and he hasn't been quite blunt enough to ask what genders they are. He's come close though.
It's a strange thing to realize, but once he's confirmed it he knows he has to talk to Shiro about it as soon as possible. Maybe Shiro knows why; maybe it's some weird Altean birth control or something that he's taking. They're using the Altean version of condoms — which is something he hasn't quite gotten used to yet — but who knows whether those are long-term compatible with a human. Who knows anything about this new world that they've stumbled into?
One attack on a Galra ship later, and the subsequent data retrieved and given to Pidge, he finally ends up alone again with Shiro.
Shiro is in the middle of changing into his regular clothes, and he leans against the wall and just watches, meeting Shiro's little smile with one of his own. He knows he's not… the best, at normal social interaction, but it seems like a bad idea to ambush someone who's only half dressed with something this theoretically important.
"What's up, Keith?" Shiro asks as he zips up his vest, preempting whatever he was going to say.
"Hm?" is about the only thing he can manage for a second, a little startled.
Shiro gives another smile, turning towards him. "You've got a look. What's up?" The smile slips a bit, and — voice sharper — he asks, "Did something happen during the attack? Are you alright?"
"Yes," he says quickly, pushing off the wall. "No, I'm fine." He pauses for a second. "Shiro, there's something I noticed that… I'm not sure how to…"
Before he fully knows what's happening, Shiro is moving closer and reaching out, tracing gentle fingers across his cheek and then back into his hair, before leaning down to press their foreheads together for a moment. He breathes in, hands coming up to lightly grip Shiro's arms as he takes the air deep, scenting his partner and how calm he is. Another deep breath, as Shiro rests a light hand on his waist, humming deep in his throat. The sound is just shy of the way Shiro purrs when they're tangled together; low rumbles from his chest that never fail to make him sleep (almost like the way mothers comfort their children).
"Easy," Shiro murmurs, stroking along his scalp. "It's alright. You can just say it, Keith. Promise."
Shiro pulls back a bit, enough that he opens his eyes and looks up. There's a soft smile, and he tightens his grip on Shiro's arms and says, "You haven't had a heat."
The smile falls, and he watches Shiro's brow furrow in what looks like confusion. He swallows as Shiro glances away, towards the bed. "I… How long has it been?"
"Four months," he answers quietly. "You should have had one by now, even if your last one was just before you escaped. Right?"
"Yeah. No, I've always been… regular." Shiro starts to pull away, and it might be a bad idea but he drags his partner back, letting go of Shiro's Galra arm to loop it around his waist and hold him close instead. Shiro shivers, but yields to it like he always does, leaning in closer instead of actually pulling away.
"Do you know why that might be? I mean, it wasn't… We didn't… Did we?"
There are only two disruptions to heats that he knows are common. The first is aging, and Shiro is nowhere near the age he'd have to be for that, and the second is, well, pregnancy. Maybe Altean condoms don't work the same. Maybe they screwed up. Maybe Shiro is—
"No," Shiro denies, voice fairly calm, considering. "There would have been symptoms; I'd be showing. We were careful. Maybe—" Shiro takes a deep breath, and he can hear the very faint shake to it, even though when his partner speaks it's undeniably steady. "We need to talk to Allura. There have been a lot of foreign chemicals, foods, things in the air. Maybe I've been… eating something that acts as a suppressant to humans. It could be a lot of things."
Which is all true, but… "What else? What are you thinking?"
Shiro's hand flexes against his waist, fingers curling a little tighter in his hair. "I— It doesn't matter. It's probably not right."
"Shiro," he stresses. "Uh-uh. You're worried; tell me."
There's hesitation, but then Shiro sighs and gives a small shrug. "It's nothing new. I just... worry that maybe the Galra might have done something to me. First thing I think, whenever something is wrong." A last pause, before Shiro pulls away, more firmly now. "No point in worrying yet. Come on, let's go find Allura. She can give us an actual answer. Hopefully."
He nods, taking Shiro's hand and — for once — not caring if anyone else sees it outside of their rooms. Shiro needs it.
Allura is easy enough to find. The Castle is pretty big, but they find her on the bridge with Coran, where she tends to be if she's not eating, or overseeing some of their training. Coran is busy across the room, but Allura turns to them upon arrival, and her smile is wide and open.
"Shiro! Keith! I thought you would be down in the training rooms. Sparring?" The word is lifted into a question, paired with just a slightly wicked smirk. Everyone knows, but Allura is the only one apart from Coran that actually talks about it. They keep things quiet; private. There's too much between them, and in Shiro's hidden past, for them to be so open.
Shiro smiles back and he honestly doesn't know how. He's a mess of nerves, and he's not even the one that might be damaged. No, not damaged. Nothing could be wrong with Shiro, not that way. Maybe something is different, but it couldn't be wrong. Shiro, however much he's hurt, however much he's been hurt, is good just the way he is. He wouldn't want to change him.
"Actually," Shiro says, softly, "I know there are the healing pods but I was wondering if there were any more… extensive, medical facilities?" Her face falls, and clearly anticipating her question he says, "There may be something wrong."
Coran must hear something, because he heads closer with a bounce.
Shiro waits until he's standing next to Allura, probably so he doesn't have to repeat himself, before he starts, "I'm not sure how Altean biology work, but, do you have what humans do? Alphas, and omegas?"
Maybe the Castle translates the words, or maybe it doesn't, but Allura and Coran share a glance. Allura is the one to answer, "I believe we are mostly the same, yes. You are the… receiver, of the types, yes?"
"Omega, yes. Human omegas go into what we call 'heats;' they're like, mating periods?" Allura nods, looking familiar with the concept, and he relaxes just a touch. Shiro continues, "I haven't had one. The period should be every three months, but Keith pointed out it's been longer than that. I'm— We're concerned something may be wrong."
Coran is frowning, and sweeps forward past Allura to draw Shiro aside, hands prodding at his face, his arms. "Have you been healthy otherwise? Any aches? Pains? Loss or increase of appetite? Anything?"
"Not as far as I've noticed." Shiro stills sounds remarkably calm, even with the somewhat invasive touches. "I was thinking maybe there could be something I'm ingesting that's acting as a suppressant? There are a lot of unfamiliar chemicals out here; who knows how human biology might react to them. That's possible, right?"
"Quite possible!" Coran steps back, but only to loop an arm around Shiro's waist and start to steer him away. "Alright, come on, Shiro! Let's get you checked out and this sorted right away. No sense worrying longer than you have to, eh?!"
"Keith," Allura calls, as he turns to follow. One of her hands touches his shoulder, clasps over it, and he looks up at her. "It will be alright," she promises, with a small smile. "I know it can be hard to see your claimed uncomfortable, but Shiro will benefit most from your steadiness. Try and stay calm."
"My…? Oh, no, we're not—" He clears his throat, glancing away to hide his embarrassment. "We're not mated. Besides, Shiro's always been the steady one; he had to be." She looks curious, and he shrugs, crossing his arms as he watches Coran and Shiro slip from the room. "Our world's gotten a lot better about things than it used to be, but there's still some… gender bias. It takes a lot for an omega to be as well respected as alphas are, in positions of authority. It takes a lot of resilience."
She squeezes his shoulder, before letting go of him. "Then you are lucky to have such a strong partner, and should be there for him as he needs you. Come on, let's make sure that Coran is treating him right, hm? I know you'll want to be by his side."
He follows her lead, having to hurry just a bit to keep up with her quick pace and long stride. No different than being by Shiro's side when his partner is on a mission; he's got the same kind of confident, quiet determination that Allura does. They both walk like they're intending on going through anything in their way, more through pure determination than any kind of violence. He's not sure he's seen anybody else walk like that.
Shiro and Coran don't come back into sight, but Allura must know where they went because she doesn't slow. He follows her down into parts of the Castle he's never been to, since he doesn't make a habit of exploring the Castle when he's bored like Lance and Pidge do. Eventually she heads through a door that opens in front of her, and yeah, it does look pretty medical. Lots of white, clean lines, and metal. Shiro's standing by a table at the center of the room, in the midst of pulling off his shirt as Coran fiddles with some equipment on a computer bank nearby.
Allura sweeps over to stand next to Coran, and he heads to Shiro, who greets him with a small smile. Instead of saying anything, he just reaches up and cups Shiro's face, pulling him down for a soft, brief kiss. Shiro sighs into it, human hand touching his waist.
"It's going to be alright," he says, when he can bring himself to pull back a bit. "I'm here."
Shiro leans into him, head tilting into his hands. "I know. Keith, whatever's going on, I'm still healthy, alright? Whatever's going on, I don't think it's dangerous."
"Let's give this a go, shall we?" Coran says, almost too cheerfully. "Shiro, if you could lie back on the table. Keith, if you wouldn't mind stepping away so I don't scan you too!"
He lingers for another second, and then pulls away from Shiro and steps back, heading over to stand close to Coran and Allura. Shiro shifts up on the table and lies down, and Coran activates something that brings the whole room to life with a hum, blue light sliding down and over Shiro in a sweep, from thighs to throat. Twice more, before the room dies down again and Coran braces hands against the bank, squinting down at whatever he's seeing.
Allura gives him a small nod when he looks at her, and he heads forward to go back to Shiro's side and pull him up. Shiro's eyes are just a little wide, in the way he's come to associate with too-familiar input, so he wraps his arms around him to hold him close. Shiro presses into him, still sitting on the table, breath a bit too even and exact to be natural. Later, he'll ask what it was that reminded Shiro of something he'd rather not remember. Something medical, clearly.
"You're alright," he whispers, rubbing his nose against the side of Shiro's head. "You're safe."
Shiro nods against his shoulder, and then takes a deeper breath and straightens up somewhat. He follows the lead, and turns back to Allura and Coran as Shiro looks up at them, keeping one of his arms around Shiro's waist. He doesn't want to move away. He wants to feel the way Shiro breathes, and moves, and remind himself that his partner is here. Is his again, no matter what.
Allura looks up, and there's something in her expression that looks… bad. "I wish to preface this by saying that I am not a medical professional," she starts, and his heart sinks a little, "and while human physiology appears to be quite similar to Altean there are clearly some differences. But, from what the scans say…" She straightens, meets Shiro's gaze directly. "Shiro, I believe the Galra may have… removed portions of your reproductive systems. Probably to render you sterile, for whatever reason they may have had."
Shiro's gone stiff and tense beneath his arm, barely breathing.
"That's if I'm reading these right," she adds, softer. "I could be wrong, but it seems like a likely option, and would explain the lack of mating periods as well as the lack of other symptoms. Most complications would have passed while you were still in captivity, if there were any at all." A breath; Coran's eyes are shut tight, hands clenched against the bank. "I'm sorry, Shiro."
Shiro trembles beneath his arm, and he turns to his partner, stepping in front of him to catch his gaze. "Hey," he says, at the sight of Shiro's too-wide eyes. "Hey. Look at me, Shiro. It's going to be okay, okay? I'm right here; you've got me. You're safe." He wraps his arms around Shiro, drags him in close, and then looks back at Allura and Coran. "Can the healing pods fix it?"
Coran shoves up from the computer, his arms crossing. "Maybe. They don't usually work on old injuries, but if we had a healthy human data print to go off of we might be able to configure them to restore that. We'd need detailed information from an unchanged… omega, and it still might be very risky. I'd have to look into it."
"Do it," Allura commands. "If we can reverse this… This violation, I want it done."
"Yes, princess." Coran strides out of the room, the bounce in his step gone and replaced with a harsher stride. Something angry.
Allura steps around the computer banks, drawing a bit closer. Against all logic, against everything, he feels himself bristling, his mouth pulling into a snarl. Shiro is hurt, and no one should come near him. No one should have the chance to hurt him any more. She stops, and his growl sticks in his throat, threatening to come free if she moves any closer. Shiro shivers, and he lets that growl loose anyway, cradling his omega closer to his chest, threatening the other alpha.
"I'll leave you two alone," she says, something sad to her voice.
He watches every step she takes, until the door shuts behind her. Then he returns his attention to Shiro, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and running a hand up to curl through his hair. He doesn't have the practice at it, but he does his best to mimic how Shiro calmed him earlier, with the deep hum in the back of his throat. Shiro curls into him, bulk seeming too small even as a thick arm circles his waist and clutches at the back of his jacket.
Shiro shudders harder against him, breath catching, and then says, "I can't— I can't be in here. Our room; please."
He pulls Shiro off the table, pausing only long enough to reach down and grab the vest and shirt from the floor before he heads for the door. Not being willing to let go of Shiro makes it a little harder, but he makes do, even as he presses the shirt into Shiro's hands. It's jerky, but Shiro pulls it on as they leave. The second he can, he wraps his arm back around Shiro and holds him close, steering him down the hall. He thinks he knows the path well enough to get them back, even if his attention is split between his partner and the route.
Until Shiro pulls him to the side, up against a wall and then down to the ground at its foot. He startles, but doesn't fight, and ends up half-cradling Shiro as his partner clutches at him, head coming down to burrow against his shoulder. He can feel the way that Shiro's breath hitches, smell the sour note of pain in his scent, and he tries that soothing hum again as tears wet the side of his neck. He manages it for a few seconds, before it fades away, and he just wraps his arms as tight around Shiro as he can.
"It's alright, Shiro," he breathes. "We'll figure this out. It's alright."
"No," Shiro says into his neck. "No, I— They took—"
"I know," he soothes. "I know, Shiro. It doesn't matter to me; I'll care for you no matter what."
"But I— I can never—"
He crushes Shiro harder to him, giving a low growl he can't help before he says, "I don't love you because you can have kids, Shiro. Maybe— Maybe they can heal you, maybe they can't. I will love you anyway."
"God, Keith…"
"I love you," he repeats. "I don't care what they did to you." Shiro cries harder against his shoulder at the words, hands curled tight in his clothes, and he squeezes his eyes shut.
Damn the Galra.