Their cries in battle could never rival their cries in the bedroom. But after their carnal passions were spent and their bodies lay satisfied and exhausted on either side of the bed, neither utter a sound. By now he could predict when he would hear her quiet knock against his door down to the tick. By now he didn't bother wearing clothes to bed, except when he felt particularly vexing on some nights. By now she was used to his cocky attitude. As long as she got what she came for, she could ignore his less appealing qualities. By now there is an unspoken rule and that was to not speak– before or after.

On one of these nights, they don't even make it to the bed. Allura barrels through the sliding door as soon as he opens it and pins him against the wall, attempting to guide him into her. Lotor regains his footing, lifts her by her hips and spins them so that she is against the wall. He slams into her, using the wall as support. She gasps then bites his shoulder, as he thrusts in and out of her. "Rough is obviously what you want, Allura. I'm only obliging," he whispers between short breaths. She only moans in time with his rhythm and digs her nails into his back. He continues pounding her until he feels her tense and her whimpers reach a high pitched crescendo. The anticipation grips her core as she urges him on, her forehead pressed to his shoulder, eyes clenched shut. Then he stops.

Her breathing slows, and she gulps, confused and more than a little irritated. "What are you doing?" Her voice is hoarse against his skin. He remains silent, smirking. Then he begins rocking back and forth, focusing on depth rather than speed, his movements slow and deliberate. She feels every inch of him, which draws out deep, guttural moans from some hidden place within her. She is ready to burst, but his measured pumping teases her, leading her to the edge then pulling her back. He tugs her ear between his teeth, as if to further drive her mad. "Look at me," he hisses, revealing that he's as close to shattering as she is. She shakes her head, refusing to yield.

He suddenly drives into her roughly, forcing a gasp from her open mouth, then slows his pace again. "Look at me." She raises her head, her electric eyes burning with equal parts arousal and annoyance. His mouth cocks upward, as he leans his forehead against hers, mixing their heat and clinging sweat. "That's it, Love. I want to see your face when I make you come." His ragged voice brushes her lips and causes a shiver to roll down her spine. Her defiant attitude is buried beneath her desperate need for release. So, she swallows and trains her eyes on his glowing yellow gaze. He returns to the erratic, ferocious rhythm from earlier. Both of their mouths hang wide, trading heated breaths back and forth.

She is more than grateful for the thickness of the walls, as she can already feel the bruises forming on her back. His nails dig into her hips and hers into his back. By now they're both panting, glazed eyes still locked together as they reach the peak. Her screams are muffled by his lips, as he rocks them to infinity. He trembles inside of her as she clenches around. Her mind explodes into little shooting stars, until everything bursts into white hot light; but somewhere on the frayed edges, she registers his lips moving against hers. This is their first kiss. They topple from the high, but his impressive stamina allows him to still hold her up with her legs clinging to his waist.

Despite being finished, they stay wrapped in each other. The air surrounding them smolders, like cool, glowing lava is pouring over their exposed bodies. Allura stares into his turbulent eyes. Something has cracked, shifted, changed. She can feel his sporadic heartbeats against her breast. That odd, tickling feeling burns in his chest again. Until now, he was able to chalk it up to insatiable lust, but he watches as the lavender in her eyes twinkles and his breathing hitches. Slowly, so slowly, she trails her deft fingers from his back to cup his jaw. He follows without much coaxing, as her gentle touch draws his chin toward her and their lips meet again.

Their mouths lock in a tender caress, exploring, reaching for what the other has locked away. They kiss– soft, hesitant, insecure, for the first time openly displaying their true desire for intimacy. They break apart to regain some air, but Lotor instantly begins peppering kisses on her cheek, her nose, her eyelids. "My Love," he purrs. He nuzzles his nose into her neck, tasting the sweat on her skin. Her heart flips and curls in on itself, hiding from the unexpected waves of affection and a desperation of an entirely different kind rolling off him. Her fingers continue idly combing through his long, silky strands.

He pauses his loving strokes and catches her half-lidded eyes in his nervous stare. He gulps. Her gaze softens, encouraging whatever's in his thoughts to find its way to his tongue. "Will you stay with me? Just for tonight."

"I will."

He blinks in utter surprise. She slides down from his torso, but soon her feet aren't on the ground again. He picks her up and cradles her in his lean arms. She rests her head against his chest, content to be carried to his bed, since she doesn't trust her legs at the moment. Once they're in the bed, her back against his chest, his hands travel down to her thighs and begin massaging the achingly sweet pain away. She sighs her affirmations, eyelids becoming heavy, mind drifting to slumber. He wraps his arms around her torso and kisses her back before resting his chin on her shoulder. He revels in her warmth, feeling safe and serene with another person for the first time.

Instantly, he can feel his demons crawling on his back. He shudders, fear snaking its way between his ribs to strangle his lungs. He doesn't want to jeopardize the fragile bond, if he can even call it that, that they've formed. And so, he sleeps, hoping and praying to ancient Altea that Allura, his love, his sweetest downfall, can ward off the darkness if only for a night.