.

.

Artificial gravity has been on the fritz since the Castle of Lions took a seriously damaging hit against their enemies. Tensions are higher than normal.

Hunk thinks the issue has been resolved for now, after working with a yawning, grumbling Pidge in the late hours and discovering a severe malfunction with oxygen levels, quickly patching that as well. Throwing himself into a kitchen chair, Hunk pushes a hand roughly over his face and half-listens to the bustle.

When the name Keith hovers in the background, Hunk's attention slams into full-gear performance.

Nearest to the double, automated kitchen-doors, the other man purposely avoids eye-contact with Allura cheerfully greeting him, walking around her and glaring when Lance scowls and rolls his eyes at Keith's dismissive mood. Sweat clings to Keith's brow and jawline and dampens the armpits of his off-white tee.

Must have been training with Shiro again. It's all Keith ever does.

Hunk's eyes trail over the obvious, wonderful bulge of Keith's arm-muscles and the narrow trim of his waist, as he passes by Hunk, ignoring him as well.

They're not friends, but Hunk kinda wishes that—

A rush of further, loud commotion.

Pidge and Lance yell over each other, and suddenly, Keith gets bumped into, careening forward and into Hunk's space. "WHOA—!" Hunk says, wide-eyed in shock and gripping onto Keith's hips. He can feel most of Keith's weight on his legs and kinda on his lap, where Keith lands after falling.

Grey-blue eyes peer at Hunk wide-eyed, and then blinking slowly.

"You okay?"

Keith's words are soft and stern. The realization that Keith is practically nose-to-nose with him catapults a whispery-warm, pleasant quiver in Hunk's back.

"Me?" Hunk asks, flustered and smile-grimacing. "Y-yeah, are… are you okay?"

"You're Hunk, right?"

A nod. "You called me, um… big man. When we met," Hunk explains, getting a little more hot under the collar when Keith peers over him again, his lips tilting upwards.

"You saved our lives," Keith points out, sounding as matter-of-factly as possible.

That shouldn't be a reason why Hunk feels himself harden more and more underneath Keith's ass. Incontrovertibly hard and twitching. "Shit—" Hunk mutters under his breath, his dark brown features scrunching up in pure mortification.

For some reason, Keith doesn't bolt away or frown, but chuckles tonelessly.

"It's okay… … "

The commotion lessens in the spaceship's kitchen, fading into a dreamy, honeysweet haze. Keith's features sharpen, and all sensations. His weight heavily resting on top of Hunk's legs and thighs lifts, up, up, down to grind directly on the tip of Hunk's erection. It's a careful, too-slow rhythmic roll of Keith's hips and ass, continuously applying pressure until Hunk thinks he sees white-hot specks in the edges of his vision, his breathing erratic.

Keith's palms slide and clutch tightly over Hunk's shoulders, to hold himself upright, to keep the pace going. Those grey-blue eyes still meet Hunk's overwhelmed gaze, amused.

A feeling like disconnection swoops over him. Hunk quivers visibly this time, now bare-naked in the kitchen's silvery, thickly padded chair, his companion reaching underneath himself. He grabs onto Hunk's thick cock, pressing the sticky-moist head between Keith's clothed, muscular buttocks, squeezing and releasing—

—that's when Hunk wakes from a deep dozing, jolting in place and completely alone in the kitchen. He looks around, and then down at his flagging erection in his cum-stained pants, groaning.

Shit.

.

.


Voltron isn't mine. IT'S BOTTOM KEITH WEEK, EVERYBODY! WOOOOO! IDK I'M HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AND YOU KNOW WHAT DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE? Hunk/Keith does not get enough love. Boooo. Time to change that. I went with Day 3 "Fetish" and decided on frottage/clothed sex for mine. Fun fun fun. Hope everybody enjoyed this piece of goodness and thoughts/comments appreciated if you got a second! Bless!