Lance sits across from Shiro in a nearby burger joint that is 80s themed with retro hot rod red booths, checkered floor and What's New Pussycat playing quietly from the jukebox in the corner, sipping loudly from his soda. Shiro did not order any food, for obvious reasons, and has his arms folded neatly on the polished table, his grey eyes alight with amusement as the werewolf continues to drink his soda in nervousness.

"You don't have to be nervous, Lance, I don't bite." He said with a flash of teeth, making Lance snort into his drink, a smile pulling at his lips.

He had been a tad hesitant when Shiro had asked if he could buy him dinner after he had finished crying into the guy's chest, unsure of the ground they now stood on. Not knowing what Shiro expected of him, and far too anxious to ask.

"...so, where is Keith?" Lance had been under the impression that if Keith wasn't with Shiro, he was with him.

"Dunno," Shiro said, leaning back in his seat. "He had some business with the Blade, and left late last night."

"Oh…" Lance said, taking a bite of his burger. "Does he know that you're here?" his stomach twists in anxiety for some reason, he can't really pinpoint why.

The man across from him hesitates "Yes…" he finally said.

That hurt for some reason, deep in his chest "So...so you planned this? You - you plotted with Keith to… to what? Corner me at my job and force me to talk to you when I explicitly said I didn't want to?" He isn't mad, really. More hurt than anything else, and that is almost worse.

The vampire in front of him looks startled, "Lance, it wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it?" he mutters bitterly, jabbing his fries in ketchup.

"I swear to you that I never meant to make you uncomfortable," Shiro whispers, "I didn't even know you worked there until after a commissioned a new arm," he says, grey eyes beseeching.

Lance doesn't know what to say to that, so he stays quiet. Munching on his fries and looking out at the rain, he belatedly realizes he is acting like a child and squares his shoulders to look back at Shiro. He sighs loudly, drooping his shoulders and gazing up at Shiro with bright blue eyes.

"Why did you invite me here?" he finally asks, his voice calm and not unkind.

Now Shiro laughs a little nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "To tell you the truth, I wanted to get to know you. Keith sings you nothing but praise and I wanted to meet the man that has him so smitten."

Of all the things to describe Keith, smitten was certainly not one of the terms that Lance would use. But he, for some god awful reason, feels his ears start to burn and he tries to distract himself by taking another bite out of his burger. He can see Shiro grinning at him from his peripherals. The asshole.

"I've never really met a werewolf before," Shiro says next, after a silent beat. Somewhere in that statement there is a lie (being a werewolf, Lance's bullshit sensor is on point), but he doesn't say anything about it. "You're not really what I expected."

What did you expect? A feral beast with a taste for human flesh? Lance thought bitterly, and Shiro seemed to catch on to his train of thought because he quickly adds "You're so nice, Keith usually went for the bad boy types." he laughs, "You're the farthest from bad boy, I think."

Lance smiles tentatively, the churning in his stomach lessens, "If Keith heard you say that you'd get punched."

The vampire laughs, "Maybe so, but why do you think I said it? He likes to think he is dark and mysterious but he really isn't." his voice is warm and Lance smiles shyly down at his food that is almost completely gone.

"Yeah, he...he is very sweet. If there's a spider in the house he insists on putting it back outside." Lance holds his breath, feels like he just jumped off a cliff and is waiting for the impact.

But the world doesn't shatter, Shiro isn't angry, quite the opposite in fact, his eyes are alight with joy and he is smiling softly at Lance and suddenly something breaks within him and he just begins to talk. It's suddenly so easy. He wants to tell Shiro everything, everything that has happened with him and Keith, the good and the bad. And Shiro listens, leaning towards Lance and there is something in his face that the werewolf can't quite decipher but he is too busy talking about how Keith had once ridden around on Lance's back during a full moon last winter and Lance, in a fit of mischief, had bucked him off into a deep snow bank.

But that isn't all, Shiro talks too. He tells Lance about the time he had tried to teach Keith how to drive on some abandoned backroad and they had managed to drive into a tree and Lance is delighted because that explains why Keith hates cars so much. About how Keith had once pole danced in a strip club back in the 70s on a dare (Lance actually knew about that one but didn't say anything because Shiro was a much better storyteller than Keith).

The werewolf realizes that they have been talking for hours and his thighs are sort of suctioned to the booth seat and the rain has slowed, but what strikes him the most is that his cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his stomach is sore from laughing so hard. He hasn't had this much fun since before Shiro came back from the dead and the constant weight in his chest has been lifted, at least for the time being.

"You aren't what I expected," Lance tells Shiro as he pulls his jacket tighter against himself as the two walk out of the restaurant side by side. And truly he isn't, Lance expected him to be cruel and nasty because that is the only thing that had made sense to him. How could someone that caused him so much pain and anguish be so kind? But Shiro isn't cruel, he is wise and brilliant and fierce...Shiro.

"You weren't what I expected either," Shiro says, looking up at the overcast sky. It is strange to think that just a thin layer of clouds is what is stopping him from turning into a pile of ashes. There is a smile in his voice and he rolls his head to look down at Lance, "Thank you," he says. "For...everything."

He isn't sure exactly what he means but Lance thinks he kind of gets it. He nods his head, waves goodbye to Shiro as he climbs into his beat up blue ford and heads home, blasting the radio and singing loudly to the music, feeling better than he has in months.

It is another three days before Lance sees Keith; the vampire crawls into his home like a skittish stray cat. His hair is wild and untamed, he is covered in a layer of dirt and grime, and his violet eyes are slanted and glowing as he walks silently into the living room. Lance is laying across his recliner, shoulders propped up by a throw pillow on the arm rest and his legs crossed, a thick book in his hands. A pair of black rimmed glasses on his face, he only really needs his glasses for reading and rarely wears them in front of others, even Keith. His phone rests on the coffee table, playing music softly as background noise.

The brunet glances at Keith from the corner of his eye and raises a brow as the man just stands there, staring. He says nothing and turns back to his book, not wanting to be the one to talk first. He turns back to his book, but the words do not process and no matter how many times he reads the same sentence over and over he cannot make sense of it. He is too high strung and Keith isn't helping, with him just looking at him with those strange purple eyes of his. It is very distracting.

Abruptly, Keith apparently comes to a decision what feels like an eternity later, he stalks across the room and snatches Lance's book straight out of his hand. The lycan growls in protest and reaches for his novel, Keith tosses it gently onto the couch and gently but firmly grips his wrists together.

"What's wrong?" The vampire demands softly, his eyes hard. Lance growls at him, tugs experimentally on his wrists but Keith does not budge, if anything his grip tightens. He pouts a little, steadfastly ignoring the heat that curls deep in his gut. He is very much aware of how long it has been since the two of them have been together, how long it has been since he has gotten off at all. But he doesn't dare try anything because he is still very much unsure what Shiro meant exactly by share.

"I talked to Shiro," Lance blurts, doesn't give himself time to articulate or back out. The warmth in his stomach is replaced by cold dread as he averts his eyes and waits for the other's reaction. Keith's takes a sharp breath in and his grip tightens even more until it is painful, it isn't a bad hurt though. It's grounding. It gives himself something to focus on other than the slimy twisting thing in his gut. It is comforting, in a strange way. "He… came to Carpe Noctem the other day, for a arm prosthetic." Lance says, he keeps his eyes firmly fixed on his hands in Keith's grip.

The vampire is silent for a moment. "I knew," he says, "I knew that he- er - commissioned Allura." he stares at their hands too. His shoulders are up to his ears and he looks more nervous than Lance feels (which is really saying something, because Lance is almost shaking), his eyes are wide with something like fear but not and maybe there is just a little bit of hope there too. "But we haven't… I haven't seen him since I left with the Blade a couple days ago. I came straight here." That surprises Lance for some reason, he would've thought that the man would've gone to Shiro first, and gone to him as an afterthought.

He hasn't seen Keith this nervous…ever. Keith had always been this confident and resolute figure, if with one of the biggest tempers Lance had ever seen and a stubborn streak a mile wide. The vampire had barely even blinked when he was shoved into the same cage as a half feral Lance and had been calm at the aspect of his own death as the sun rised. It's bizarre. And a deep dark part of his brain thinks its empowering, but he does his best to ignore that.

"What… what happened?" Keith finally choked out.

Lance hums, "Well, after I thought Shiro was going to literally kill me?" and yeah, there's a little bit of a bite to his words but he can't help it. The fact that both Keith and Shiro went behind his back to force him into a situation he did not want to be in was still sore and no, he was not over it yet. "We talked. And Shiro said that we-" he falters, his voice goes quiet and he finally looks up to meet Keith's eyes. "He said that we… we could… share you. If that would make you happy?" it comes out more as a question than he intends.

He is unsure what Keith's reaction will be, he has no idea if the man will be mad, upset, elated, or pitying. His heart pounds so hard against his ribs he is sure that it is going to burst free; he is positive Keith can tell because if he can't hear it (which would be a miracle), his hands are pressed firmly against the werewolf's pulse point.

He watches silently as the vampire closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. He lifts Lance's hands and places a firm kiss to his nuckles. The werewolf nearly jerks when the man falls to his knees and presses his lips more firmly against his skin, scrunching up his face and screwing his eyes shut. A salty tang hits Lance's nose and he can do nothing but stare in shock as Keith's shoulders begin to shake and tears begin to drip down his cheek.

Keith never cries and Lance is unsure what to do. He does not know if these are happy or sad tears, but something in him suspects that they are neither. He does not speak, doesn't know what to say. Instead the Lycan makes a sound in his throat that is almost like a whine but not a growl either. It's a comforting noise, one his mother used to make when Lance or his siblings were sad. He ignores the stab of longing that goes through his chest whenhe thinks of his family, and instead focuses on Keith.

He pulls gently on Keith's hands (which are still holding onto Lance's wrists so tight it nearly constricts blood flow) and silently corrals the man into his lap. The vampire immediatly lets go of his wrists and instead wraps his arms tightly around Lance's torso, burrowing his face into his shoulder and crying silently. He does not sob, he just lays on top of him and breaths quietly as tears leak down his face and soak Lance's shirt.

The werewolf fights off the urge to lick the tears from Keith's cheeks. Licking is not something normal people do; but it is sometimes hard for him to differentiate between acceptable behavior for a human when the wolf in him constantly wants to be close to those he loves. He wants to sleep curled around them, wants to drape himself over them, wants to lick them clean or just to show how much he loves and cares about them. But he is unsure how Keith would react, so in case that reaction would be negative he reisst the urge.

They stay like that for a long time, neither of them speak and Lance is content to keep it that way. But with his concern for the vampire slowly waning, the fact that the man's mouth is so close to the bundle of scars at the side of his throat begins to make his heart pound. He is like Pavlov's dogs, his stomach swoops pleasantly and he unconsciously presents his neck, not in submission, but in invitation. Of course, Keith immidiatly notices and pulls back from Lance to stare at him with those strange eyes of his. He looks so tired, his hair is more unruly than usual and dark bags under his eyes contrast unpleasently with his pale skin.

He licks his lips, "Lance...c-can I…?" his voice is so thick and fragile it almost breaks Lance's werewolf says nothing, instead he tilts his head to the side, further inviting the dark haired man access. Keith runs a hand through Lance's hair to cup the back of his neck and tugs him closer, he noses along Lance's jaw a moment before his fangs pierce skin. Lance hardly feels it and goes limp against the raven's chest as pleasant heat throbs through his body.

It is strange for Keith to feed from him when they are not having sex. Not a bad strange though, just different. Lance wouldn't say he necessarily enjoys when he gets his blood sucked out, but he does not dislike it either. Sure, it feels warm and safe while Keith is doing it (a fact that had unnerved Lance immensly when he had first allowed the vampire to taste his blood), but afterwards he is woozy and disconnected from himself. The process itself is actually quite pleasurable and Lance isn't sure if it is because he is conditioned to associate feeding with sex or because he really is that fucked up but his pants begin to feel tighter.

Keith is ravenous, his claws grow out and grip Lance so tight that he leaves behind angry red whelts that spot with small beads of blood. His teeth have sunk deeper than usual and Lance feels blood leak from Keith's mouth as he consumes like a starved man and stain the collar of his shirt. This is the first time Lance has ever felt unease whilst Keith drinks, he completly trusts Keith, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the raven's eyes glowing a deep shade of red that strike a horrible chord within Lance. Behind his eyes he sees fire and death, sees his family dead, sees a dark sillohuete in the smoke with red eyes stalking closer and closer.

Nononononofirepackpaindeathnonononono-

He jerks in Keith's hold, fatigue pulling at his sense, but the man snarls lowly at him and tightens his hold till his claws truly breach skin. This has never happened before, and he wonders distantly how long it has been since the vampire has fed. If he has fed at all since Shiro came back. That was months ago though, surly he would have? The werewolf does not know. Keith had always been very good at knowing the lycan's limits and had always only taken what he needed. He seems to have compleltly forgotten that now, and Lance makes a small pitiful noise in the back of his throat.

"Fuck!" Keith apruptly pulls back, like he has been drowning. Blood is smeared across his mouth and drips down his chin, his eyes a dark burgundy instead of bright violet. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Lance, I am so fucking sorry!" he all but screams, frantically petting Lance's cheek as he blinks blurrily up at him. The lycan yawns softly as the raven hunches over him, all but cradling his face as he begins to cry all over again. This time though it is much worse. His shoulders shake with loud sobs and his tears cut through the blood that is smeared across Lance's cheeks from Keith's fingers.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Keith chants over and over again, pressing their foreheads together as he continues to stroke Lance face manically. Lance's thoughts are slow and he can't quite get his mouth to work, he feels almost drunk as he looks up at Keith. He doesn't quite understand why Keith is freaking out so bad, but he doesn't like it when Keith is sad.

"Are you okay?" The vampire whispers, cupping his jaw.

"M'fine," Lance slurs but that seems to make things worse because Keith just crues harder. In his confusion, Lance makes a high pitched whine. Keith shushs him gently, runs a hand through the brunet's hair making it stick up with blood.

"Keith…?" The werewolf breathes.

"Yes?" he sounds so broken that Lance whines again, shakily raising an arm to run his fingers along Keith's pale arm.

"'M tired… can we go to bed?"

Keith breathes shakily, sniffling as he nods his head, a watery smile pulling at his red lips. "Yeah, Lance. We can go to bed."

"Will you stay with me?" Lance wonders, hoping the answer is yes. He misses Keith.

"Yeah, I'll stay with you." the raven lifts him up easily. They go up the stairs and Lance reaches out to run the pads of his fingers against the wall as they pass, the texture scratches pleasantly against his skin.

They turn into the bathroom and Keith sits Lance down on the toilet seat, pulling off the werewolf's shirt gently, taking out the first aid kit from under the sink, and wetting a towel. He rubs the blood away gently from his skin and Lance doesn't complain other than pout that they are not actually going to bed yet. His breath is short and shallow and his skin is pale under the harsh bathroom light, the room spins as Keith patches him up with shaky hands.

"Tired," Lance tells Keith as he finishes washing out the last bit of blood from his hair.

Keith looks very sad, "I know, just a second okay?" and the pale man quickly washes his face and hands before picking Lance backup and carrying him back to his room. He places Lance on the edge of the bed, takes off his glasses and then kneels off to pull off his pants. Woah there.

"No sex," Lance tells Keith sagely. He is too tired for sex. He is bemused when the man stiffens and looks up at him like Lance has just squirted him with water.

"We aren't having sex Lance!" Keith squawks. Lance knows that they aren't, Keith is so weird. "I know you don't like sleeping with pants on, you weirdo." he says fondly. Oh.

"Pants are for squares." he says tiredly and Keith is gone but is back quickly with a bottle of water that he has Lance sip before he gently guides him to lay down, pulling covers over him. He presses a firm kiss to Lance's temple, his scent is drenched in sadness and Lance whines softly at the man.

"I'm sorry." Keith whispers to him, pushing his damp hair away from his forehead. "I am so fucking sorry, Lance. You don't deserve any of this." he says, "All I ever do is hurt you and I am so sorry, but I am too selfish to stop. Lance I...I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I don't understand how you - why do you even love me?" he sounds as if he has been gargling nails, his voice gravely and broken.

"Cause I do." Lance says stubbornly. He wishes he weren't so fucking tired because Keith just said the L word and Lance is so so happy he could howl to the moon.

The vampire's smile isn't a happy one, but leans down to press another kiss to his hairline and the lycan reaches out and grabs the man's wrist. "Stay." He mumbles. Please stay, he thinks.

And Keith hesitates for just a moment before crawling under the covers and holding Lance close to his chest, he does not sleep. Not with just having fed, but he is content to stay awake and watch over his love. He only wishes that Shiro was there with them.