Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron.

Two by Three

The Arus night was warm and humid, the perfect ending to a late summer day. It was past midnight, and the castle was dark and quiet.

The bedroom windows were open to catch any passing breeze, and the curtains swayed. The air in the room was heavy with heat, and the scent of sex swirled about the bed. Two figures lay entwined there, where the faint moonlight couldn't reach.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Doesn't this . . . bother you?"

A careful shrug. "Not as much as it bothers you, I guess."

The first speaker was silent for a long while, his head pillowed on his lover's shoulder, fingers tracing circles on the other's broad chest, unable to move otherwise, though he wanted to.

"Stop that, it tickles." The second man grabbed the offending hand, held it for a second, then, grinning wickedly in the dark, brought it to his mouth to nibble the fingertips. His tongue flickered lightly over each digit, then, singling out the index finger, he slowly sucked it in, up to the knuckle, his tongue undulating sensuously against it.

"Hey . . . oh."

The protest died into a moan, as he was almost certain it would. His grin widening further, he gave the next finger the same treatment, and felt the man at his side begin to move restlessly against him, his senses awakening again. "You like that, Lance?" he asked softly, his breath whispering over the damp fingers.

"Yeah . . ." Lance's response was breathless.

He laughed, deep in his throat, and, lightning quick, pulled Lance on top of him, straddling his stomach. He heard the other's gasp at the sudden change of position, but he ran his hands over the hard, slim body above him, and the gasps took on a much different tone. Tweaking the perked nipples drew forth a groan, and caressing the long thighs, a whimper.

Lance bent down over him, to kiss him, but he moved, and led his head to his own chest. Taking the hint, the other placed kisses over the broad chest, laving the nipples with his tongue, suckling gently, then harder. Now it was his turn to groan, arching his back, pressing himself up into Lance's attentions, his light caresses. He could feel the blood rushing to swell his cock, and planted both hands on the other's ass, squeezing softly.

When he sat up, he was at the perfect height to repay Lance in kind, and did so, his tongue dancing lightly over the other's chest, making him pant and groan. He lay down on his side, pulling the other with him, kissing him deeply, then flipped them so he was on top. He reached out toward the bedside table, while their tongues twined about each other, then nibbled his neck, stroking his body with his free hand. After fumbling in the darkness for a moment, finding and discarding the now-empty box of condoms, he rediscovered the tube of lubricant he'd tossed there earlier, and opened it one-handed. Squeezing out a dollop, he quickly coated his cock, then, using what was left on his fingers, he probed between Lance's legs.

"Ah!" There was just enough light for him to see Lance tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, and he smiled. His lover's manhood was as straining and eager as his own; he could feel it pressing up against his belly as the other moaned beneath him. He positioned himself at the entrance he sought, and pushed in gently.

His rhythm was slow and steady, almost maddening, and he could hear whimpers of pleasure and desire beneath him. "Please," he just barely heard the word, muffled as it was against his chest, "please, harder . . ." He could feel fingers digging into his shoulders, teeth grazing his chest, his throat. Panting, smiling, he increased his pace, his force, and was rewarded with groans and the scrape of fingernails along his spine.

He heard the gasps begin to rise in volume, but was not quite quick enough to stifle the first cry. "Oh, God! Oh . . ." He dove down to smother it with his mouth, and Lance bucked against him, and he felt the clench of muscles around his shaft as he drove the other to his climax. With a groan that came from deep, deep within, he felt his own orgasm roll over him, and buried himself deep, shuddering. He collapsed, hiding his face against the other's sweaty neck.

The next thing of which he was really aware was the soft touch upon his face, Lance's breath stirring his hair. He pulled back, smiling down in the dark, and rubbed his thumb over the other's cheek.

"You're a screamer," he whispered. "But I'll take it as a compliment."

He could see the white gleam of Lance's teeth in the dim light. "Yeah, well . . . you make me want to scream. I like the way you make me scream."

He chuckled. "When you put it that way, I like making you scream." He rolled away, then pulled Lance back into his arms. Lance curled comfortably against him, resting his head on the offered shoulder again. "But that's what you get for tickling me."

"Really?" Lance grinned up at him impishly. "Every time I tickle you? What about right now?" He reached up to slide his hand across the broad chest, always needing to tempt fate.

He grabbed the hand again, and growled, "If you try that again right now, you'll get booted right out of this bed." But they both knew there was nothing behind the threat. "You've worn me out."

"Oh, poor Hunk," Lance mocked, still grinning. "You know you enjoyed it."

Hunk turned onto his side, facing Lance. "Yeah," he replied softly, stroking Lance's cheek again, "I did." He yawned hugely. "Now, I need to sleep, O insatiable one. So do you, you just don't know it." He wrapped both arms around Lance and drew him against his chest.

"Hey, let me breathe, here!" Lance protested, and pulled away a little bit. With the necessary space to let air in, he relaxed, and listened as Hunk's breaths settled into the steady rhythm of sleep. After a few minutes, Hunk flopped onto his back, freeing Lance from his embrace. Moving carefully, not wishing to disturb him, Lance sat up and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Yeah, it bothers me a lot, he thought soberly, glancing down at Hunk, before resting his chin on his knees. Why doesn't it bother you?

Maybe because I'm the one who made the first move. He stared at the far wall, shrouded in darkness. Damn it, now I almost wish I hadn't. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have responded and everything would be like it was before. If I'd just kept my hormones under control, I wouldn't be screwing over my best friend by screwing his man.

He felt his face heat at the word, for he knew, while it was appropriate, it wasn't the right one. I love his daring, his stubbornness, just like me, I love his skill with machinery, I love tonight, the sex, but I love him, above all. Oh, God, I love him, I just wish I didn't.

And there's no way, no way Sven's going to ever believe this was an accident . . .

Just the thought of his friend's reaction, if he ever found out, made Lance shiver. He imagined the cold gray eyes, the expression stony and unreadable. There's also the possibility of a fist in my face . . . but that would hurt me less than this betrayal would hurt him. And it wouldn't even begin to take away the guilt I feel, no matter how much I deserve it.

So why can't I leave? Why am I still here in his bed?

He buried his face against his arm. Because I'm an idiot in love, that's why.

Doesn't Hunk love him? How could he be with Sven for all this time and not care about what this would do to him? Is he even going to tell Sven about us?

Does this even constitute an us to tell him about?

Oh, God, Sven, you're going to kill me for this . . .

***

The sunlight beat hot on his bare shoulders, and Sven shielded his eyes with one hand as he peered back up to Blue Lion's head. He grinned as he recognized the next diver by the flash of his trunks.

He knew the others sometimes thought that he was always the first to dive because he thought his dives were somehow better, more graceful than everyone else's. The Princess, being kinder hearted, perhaps, thought that he minded the heat more than the rest of them, and just wanted to get cool quicker.

But the pure truth of the matter, Sven thought, is that I admire the male form, and this is a great way to do it. He moved a little closer, cutting easily through the water, until he was by the Lion's mouth. "Go for it!" he shouted up to Keith, who had stepped to the edge of the Lion's nose.

Keith waved briefly in acknowledgement, then leapt up, arced over, completed a twist and slid cleanly between the molecules of water. He was a much better diver than Sven, and Sven applauded when Keith broke the surface again, not too far away. He admired Keith's lean body, muscular without being overwhelming . . .

Though I like that, too, he thought happily. I love days like this. My face is going to hurt later from grinning so much . . .

It looked like Hunk was next . . . but why was Pidge carrying on so? Then he realized with a laugh that Hunk held the squirming Pidge under his arm, and Pidge was practically screaming to be put down. He called, "Be careful what you . . ."

But then it was too late. With a grunt, Hunk threw Pidge up into the air, well away from the snout of the Lion. Shrieking, arms and legs flailing wildly, Pidge sailed quite some distance before gravity caught hold of him again. He made a spectacular splash, and came up spluttering.

"I'll get you for that, you big lug!" he shouted, trying to glare furiously while blinking water out of his eyes. "Just you wait!" Keith turned away, snickering, and was immediately dunked as Pidge threw himself on Keith's back. Sven couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. It was just too funny.

"I'm sorry, Pidge," Hunk called back, unrepentant. "I thought you wanted to be next!"

"Not like that!"

"Are you coming down?" Sven asked. "Or are you going to stay up there and miss out on all the fun?" He floated away on his back, and looked suggestively up at his lover.

"On my way!" With a cry that sounded like "Geronimo!" Hunk jumped off the Lion's nose, curled himself into a ball and dropped like a rock. His splash was much greater than Pidge's, and Sven was almost swamped by the wave. He managed to right himself, and glanced over at the spot where Hunk had landed. The ripples were still spreading, but the water was slowly calming. He frowned slightly as the seconds passed and Hunk failed to surface.

Without warning, he felt the water eddy about him, felt large hands encircle his legs, felt the water close over his head with hardly a chance for a breath. Opening his eyes under water, he saw Hunk grinning at him. Hunk pulled him closer, hand over hand, up his legs, until he could wrap his arms around Sven's waist, and nuzzle his cheek. Sven let his hands rest on Hunk's broad shoulders. Then, with a mighty kick, Hunk pushed them both toward the surface.

Cool water, warm air, and Sven yelped, feeling himself flying as Hunk tossed him. He tucked and the water sprayed up again as he fell. He could hear Pidge and Keith laughing as he rose again, shaking the water from his face. But he couldn't begrudge them their humor, because Hunk was there to steady him, still smiling at him, teeth gleaming in his tanned face. His big hands stroked Sven's sides, under water, where the others couldn't see.

"I guess I should have expected that," Sven said ruefully, smiling up at Hunk.

"I guess you should have," Hunk replied. "You know I like water sports, and" he lowered his voice, and brought his face close to Sven's, "you know I like playing them with you." One hand came up to cup Sven's cheek, the other pulling him closer, and then he was against that solid, muscular body he loved to admire, and Hunk's lips covered his.

After a moment, and a chorus of "Get a room!" from Pidge and Keith, Hunk released him, his brown eyes bright with promise. Sven took a breath, glad the water hid his reaction.

Oh, yes, he thought hazily. I definitely love days like this.

He glanced up over Hunk's shoulder, and saw that Lance was still atop the Lion's head. The sun was in his eyes, but it seemed to Sven that Lance was staring at them. "Hey, Lance! Your turn!"

After a moment's hesitation, Lance executed his dive. When he reached the water, his splash was slightly bigger than Keith's, but it wouldn't have lost him any points had it been a true competition. He broke the surface, and headed for the lakeshore with strong, almost angry seeming strokes.

"Lance?" Keith called after him, confused. Usually, he had to drag Lance away from the lake. "Is something wrong?" He struck out after the other, as Lance strode from the water, and caught up with him just as he reached for his towel.

Still in Hunk's embrace, Sven watched as Keith attempted to discover what was the matter, and debated going over himself. But when he made a move in that direction, Hunk tightened his arms around him. He couldn't hear quite what they were saying, but now that he wasn't against the sun, it was easy to make out the expression Lance wore, a scowl, out of place on him. Absently keeping himself afloat, staring at them, he leaned into Hunk's warm body. He rubbed his cheek against his lover's shoulder and said quietly, "He's upset."

"Yup." Hunk, too, glanced at Lance and Keith from the corner of his eye, but most of his attention was directed toward Sven's ear, and he nibbled upon it.

Sven closed his eyes. "You know why?" he asked.

"Maybe." Hunk's mouth moved slowly down to his neck.

"You gonna tell me?" Sven tried to be exasperated with his uncommunicative answers, he really did, but it was so difficult to think past the heat of his lips . . .

"Later."

He gave up. "All right." He hummed as Hunk nipped at his throat.

"I missed you . . ."

The sudden wave in his face made him gasp, and suck in water. Coughing, he opened his eyes to see Pidge glaring at them.

"Jeez, are you two gonna swim or do each other right here?" Pidge asked, rolling his eyes.

Recovering, Sven smiled sweetly as Hunk released him. "Oh, we're going to swim."

With a growl, Hunk lunged for the boy, who squealed and tried to backpedal. He simply wasn't fast enough to evade Hunk's long arms, and was caught.

"But I'm not quite sure what you're going to do from your hospital bed!" Hunk went on, his voice raising so that he shouted the last two words. He forced Pidge's face into the water, grinning wickedly at Sven, while his victim burbled and thrashed. Letting him up after a moment, Hunk then attacked Pidge's ribs, tickling him with one hand while holding him up with the other.

"Hey, that looks like fun. Can I try?" Sven looked in the direction from which the voice had come, and saw Keith swimming back towards them. He was alone. He quickly scanned the shore, and saw Lance walking back to the castle.

"NO!" Pidge shrieked through his helpless laughter, wriggling furiously to break Hunk's grip. "Help!"

Keith mock-pouted. "Oh, all right. Hunk, stop torturing Pidge."

"Spoilsport." But he kept Pidge's head above the water while the boy regained his breath.

"Did you find out what Lance's problem was?" Sven asked softly as Hunk swam away with Pidge in pursuit.

Frowning, Keith shook his head. "No. He said the sun had given him a headache, but I know that's not it. It's no use for me to talk to him when he's like this . . ." His dark eyes pleaded mutely with Sven.

He sighed. "All right. I'll ask him later."

Keith smiled in relief. "Thanks, Sven. I appreciate it." He turned back to the Lion. "You gonna dive again? I want to watch."

***

It was a delightfully warm and sticky afternoon. While looking for something in the kitchen after lunch, Sven found a container of Nanny's homemade hot fudge sauce. He grinned as the evil idea struck him. Making sure he wasn't observed, he heated up a sufficient amount, then took the pan back to his room. Hunk was waiting for him.

"Did you find . . . What's that?"

"Let me show you." He dipped a finger in the pan. It was just the right temperature. Slowly, he sucked the finger clean, staring at Hunk as he made sure he got every last bit of the sauce. Hunk's eyes went wide.

A few chocolate-covered hours later, Sven smiled down at his lover as they sprawled sated on the floor. "What a great way to spend an afternoon," he sighed. Seeing a bit of sauce on Hunk's cheek that he'd missed, he dipped his head to lap it up.

"Mmm," Hunk agreed sleepily. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked up. "'Cept now we're all stuck together." His hands lightly stroked Sven's back.

"We were going to get sticky anyway, love." Sven rested his forehead against Hunk's.

"I guess." He yawned. "'Scuse me."

"You ready for a shower?" Sven asked, sitting up. "It looks like I couldn't get all the chocolate off your chest." Indeed, Hunk's chest hair was a matted mess.

"Not just yet. I don't want to move." Hunk pulled him down again, smiling. "You're so different now than when I first met you," he murmured. "So open and playful. I can't imagine you doing this back then. Sometimes I can't imagine you doing this even now."

"You mean cool, calm and collected Sven? That's just a mask I wear around people. Sometimes, I can't stop myself from wearing it even around people I trust. But I've always shown you the real me." He caressed Hunk's cheek, his fingers still tacky with chocolate residue. "I'm always like this, happy . . . and playful, yes, when I'm with you. I love you."

Hunk's hand covered Sven's, grasped it tightly. "I love you, too."

Sven felt like drowning in those melting brown eyes, and smiled.

For several long moments, nothing was said as they relaxed against each other. Then Sven propped himself up on an elbow, and said, "Well?"

Hunk opened one eye. "Well what?"

"You said you'd tell me what was wrong with Lance. Was I right?"

Hunk sighed, and sat up. "Yes."

"And while I on patrol last night, did you and he . . .?"

"Only because you said . . ." Hunk broke off. "Sven, I thought about what you said, about maybe . . . including Lance, asking him if he wanted to join us, and I know I agreed to give it a trial run. But I . . . I don't want anyone but you. I love you."

Sven embraced him from behind. "You love Lance, too," he said softly.

"Only as a friend," Hunk protested. "And not as much as you do." He turned in Sven's arms, and put his hands on the other's shoulders. Looking into his eyes, he whispered, "The whole time I was with him last night, I was thinking about you. Even though you said it was all right, it felt like . . . like I was betraying you. I don't think I can share myself like that, and I know that I don't want to share you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have agreed." He pulled Sven to him, and rested his head against the other's shoulder.

"I'm not sure what I was thinking to suggest it," Sven replied quietly, stricken. He held Hunk tightly, letting his hands run up and down the broad back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I guess . . ." he sighed. "I guess I was feeling insecure. I thought you might want him, and it certainly looked like he wanted you. I thought that I could make both of you happy . . . and didn't stop to really think about it. I'm sorry."

"You've got no need to be insecure. Just don't let it happen again."

"I won't. I promise." Sven smiled, and closed his eyes. "Tell me what happened."

Hunk snorted. "What normally happens? Except . . ." his tone grew embarrassed, "as I was about to go to sleep, he . . . tickled me."

"Oho!" Sven sat back, and grinned at Hunk's red face. "And I take it you responded as you usually do?"

Hunk shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah."

Sven kissed him deeply, pressing him back onto the floor. "You know," he remarked offhandedly, pulling away an inch or two, "I think you are the only man I know whose ticklish spots double as erogenous zones." But the teasing note was lost on his lover, he saw, as he looked into Hunk's soulful brown eyes. He trailed his fingers over Hunk's cheek, leaning on his elbows over him. "Tell me the rest," he said softly.

"I felt like I was cheating him," Hunk confessed guiltily after a short silence. He ran his fingers, slightly sticky with sauce, through Sven's dark hair. "He seemed to want it so much, he was so there, so ready . . . and I was thinking about you the first time. But, the second time . . . it was like I couldn't stop myself and that's when it felt like I was cheating on you."

This time, Sven's kiss was gentle, a mere brushing of lips. "Gods, I don't deserve you," he whispered. "You're too good for me, love. Hush," he covered Hunk's mouth with a finger, as he took a breath to protest. "It's true. I should never have asked you to do that, especially without talking about it more. It was a stupid, stupid idea, and I am so sorry."

Hunk pulled him down and held him close. "I forgive you, because I understand why. But I need you to forgive me, too."

Sven struggled against the strong arms holding him. "But you didn't . . ." Then he stopped. They each felt that they alone deserved the blame. "I don't think you need it, but I forgive you," he whispered, and felt Hunk's arms tighten around him.

They lay quietly for a moment, then Sven sat up again and sighed. "The longer we wait, the worse it's going to be to get the chocolate out of your hair. And mine," he added, encountering a chocolate smeared tangle in his bangs. "And then . . . I've got to talk to Lance."

***

It was nearly evening when Sven found Lance, and then, it was only because the heat of the afternoon had driven him into the library to cool off. The library had a special air conditioning unit, to help preserve the books, though the rest of the castle had to swelter. Wandering quietly through the stacks, he came upon Lance sleeping curled up in one of the window seats, his head pillowed on his jacket.

It was then, staring at Lance, completely unguarded in sleep, that Sven realized he had no idea of what to say. He felt he'd nearly ruined his relationship with Hunk, whom he loved more than life, in order to make his friend happy. He was extremely angry with himself, but he couldn't let that spill over onto either Hunk or Lance, because he was not angry with either of them. Lance couldn't help how he felt about Hunk any more than Sven himself could. And Hunk felt bad enough about what Sven had asked him to do that he didn't want to make him feel any more guilt. He could not tell Lance the real reason why now, when Hunk was so against having him join them. With these thoughts running through his head, he bent down to shake Lance awake.

Lance groaned at the touch, and tried to bat his hand away. Chuckling in spite of himself, Sven shook him again and said, "Wake up, Lance. You're about to miss supper."

One eye opened at that. Sven smiled down at him. "Oh, good, you're awake. Supper isn't for a while yet."

"That's mean, Sven," Lance yawned as he sat up. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, then suddenly, Lance remembered. He stiffened and looked away, and Sven sighed inwardly.

He sat down next to Lance on the window seat. "Keith wanted me to find out what was wrong with you this morning," he said. "He's worried about you."

"Yeah. Well. It's nothing, and you can tell him to stop worrying." He drew his jacket onto his lap and started picking at one of the seams.

"No, it's not, and I can't." Sven yanked the jacket away from Lance's fingers, and set it on his other side. "There is something really bothering you, and, even if Keith hadn't deputized me to find out what it is, I would anyway. I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything."

"You don't want to hear it this time, Sven, you really don't." Lance was still staring down at his hands, lying limply on his legs. His voice was flat, as if he was trying to keep all emotion out of it.

"If it makes you feel better, I certainly do." He draped one arm over Lance's shoulders.

Lance jumped up, flinging off his arm almost violently. Sven stared up at him in surprise. "You want to know?" Lance shouted. "Fine! Last night, I backed Hunk against the wall, kissed him, groped him and seduced him in his own bed! All right? Are you fucking satisfied now?" He choked and turned away, facing the shelves. In a quieter, but no less angry tone, he finished, "You can hit me now, you can hate me for the rest of my life, but you can't make me feel any worse about it than I already do."

Sven studied the stiff back, the clenched fists, the way his shoulders trembled, as if he was dreading an attack. He was a bit disconcerted at the crude way Lance had confessed, but he knew, in a corner of his mind, that Lance was trying to hurt himself, to expiate the guilt he felt. And he thinks the best way of doing that, Sven thought, is by hurting me, and getting me to beat him up. But he said nothing.

"I . . . I wish I hadn't," Lance continued in a whisper, perhaps confused by the silence behind him. "I've ruined our friendship, and your relationship with Hunk. But the worst is that it didn't seem to bother him as much as it did me, and I . . ."

He was starting to babble now, and Sven decided it was time to interrupt. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Lance looked over his shoulder in amazement.

Sven kept his face impassive. "Did you enjoy it?"

Lance closed his eyes, and bowed his head. "Yes. Right up until the point where I started thinking about the consequences again. Then I couldn't believe what I'd done."

Sven rose, and came up behind him. Lance tensed, waiting for the blow, wanting it. He was shocked when Sven embraced him instead.

"No matter what happens, Lance, you will always be my friend," Sven murmured into Lance's ear. "I'm not going to hit you, I'm not going to hate you, and I want you to stop torturing yourself with this. I'm not saying it's right because you feel guilty about it, and it's not wrong because you enjoyed it. It happened. It's done. Ok?" He wasn't sure if these were the right things to say, but they were true.

"But . . ." Lance floundered for a minute. "How can you not hate me for this?" he asked, stunned. "I betrayed you."

"And would you feel any better if I told you that I hated you, that I despised you for it?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "No," came his grudging response.

"So why should I say it when it's not true? It would hurt you; it would hurt me. Lance, you are my friend, my almost-lover, as close to me as any brother could be." He squeezed Lance slightly.

"What about Hunk? He didn't even seem to care . . ." Lance swallowed. "I wondered if he loved you and it made me feel even worse, to think that . . ."

"Is that what this morning was all about?" Sven asked in sudden understanding. "You thought he was just going to carry on with me and not tell me, when you felt so guilty?" Lance nodded, flinching. Sven tightened his embrace. "It did bother him. He told me the first chance he got, when we were alone."

"You already knew?" Lance asked incredulously, pulling out of Sven's arms. His eyes were wide and angry. "Then why the hell did you have to have me tell you, too?"

"You needed to tell me," Sven said simply. "If you hadn't, this would have torn you all apart, and the rest of us as well. I know you too well." Lance looked away, but Sven took hold of his chin, and looked into his eyes. "And I'm sorry . . . for being insensitive," he explained as Lance's mouth gaped open, "because I know how you feel about Hunk, and I keep talking to you about him. I'll try not to do that anymore. All right?"

"Sven . . ." His eyes filled with tears he couldn't control as Sven hugged him again.

"I love you, Lance. I want you to be happy. You need to start looking for someone . . ."

"I know," Lance replied, gulping back his sobs. "I know. Just give me a little time . . ."

"All right. Just, please, don't hurt yourself over this anymore. Please?"

"I'll try. I . . . I love you, too, Sven."

They stood in silence for some time, outlined in the reddening light of the sunset. Then Sven pulled away slightly, and asked, "So, will you join us for tomorrow's swim?"

Lance grinned somewhat shakily. "What, so you can ogle me when I dive?"

Sven returned the grin. "Why not? You need a little critique on your dives." When Lance laughed, he slung an arm around his shoulders, and guided him toward the door. "Let's go have some supper."

"Good. Nanny said we're having hot fudge sundaes for dessert tonight."

***

March 10, 2002

© randi (K. Shepard), 2002.