nysalogs | We were the victims of ourselves

[Keith's succumbed to sleep; he hasn't been knocked out for long, but in his quest for warmth and overall survival, he's nodded off and achieved a level of sleep where her stirring -- shifting ever-closer doesn't immediately rouse him.

It's the noise, the sudden movement. His eyelids blearily part, his brain immediately concerned by the sound but the rest of his entire being can't catch up to that. He blinks once, twice, regards her with an air of vague alarm, mostly confusion...he is expecting to hear a predator outside of their igloo, or for her to inform him of some looming threat she'd noticed in his negligence--

But there's nothing. Just a belated realization that they're lying awfully close.]

Uhh --! [Dignified, as expected from the team leader. He won't amend that awkward murmur with anything more. He'll just start to sit up, mumble a quick apology. It's as if he's walked in on her naked.]

Agh—Ahem! [Eloquently, as expected from a royal diplomat. Hands plant on his chest and she half scoots, half pushes him away. Next she seems to realize that having her hands on his chest is also unacceptable so she yanks her hands back to mess with her hair—as if she very suddenly found a knot that desperately needed untangling. Very smooth and casually handled.]

A... Apologies. [It comes out as more of a squeak, and she clears her throat, sitting up as she tries again,] It's cold! Much colder than I thought it would be!

[It's the truth but the way she says it makes it sound like an excuse. But she's not wrong, and every time she says the word cold the room seems to drop by a few degrees. Now that they weren't wrapped up in each other's warmth, (and with the blankets askew in their contest to see who could be the most awkward) the cold seemed that much more potent, seeping straight through her jumpsuit. She clasps her hands together to stop them from shivering.]

[He's shoved, and while it isn't the worst shove he's ever experienced, in this very specific context...it's...it's high up there. He's scrambling to sit up because while he was able to immediately ascertain how awkward this arrangement had become, he wasn't fully aware of how. Revolting. He is to spoon with.

Something like that.

Normally he's allergic to all forms of intimate contact, barring when ya gotta Bear Grylls it up..but maybe, just maybe this sort of thing is different for her kind? Lying with the opposite gender -- a Galran, he may have breached far more barriers than intended.]

Sorry. [Murmured while mopping his eyes with his fingertips. This is embarrassing, how does one even address this???] I didn't mean to get that close to you.

[No offense.................]

But I don't know if we have a choice.

[How very ~~fuck to survive meme of him~~ mature?? of him to say.]

[It's.... complicated in a few ways. Actually, not that complicated. Mostly childish embarrassment, she's aware. It's not as if she finds Keith distasteful or untrusthworthy. The rational, down-to-business part of her is fine with the arrangement, as long as it gets them through the night. She nods,] I know.

[Yet she hesitates. Hands still clasped in her lap, a shiver wracking her body despite the heat that burns at her ears. His instincts aren't wrong, but not for the reasons he thinks. It was equal parts upbringing (princesses do not spoon casually) and still nursing a wounded heart. After all, the last person that had held her in a way she could call intimate had been a different half-Galran. One that may or may not have been present in her dreams moments earlier.

She rubs her palms over her eyes, letting go a sigh,] I'm sorry, I'm being irrational. Of course you're right. We must think of our survival first and foremost.

[...Which sort of implies she wasn't thinking about that earlier.]

[Listen, Keith was on vacation for two (?????????????) years and only assumed Lotor had integrated into team Voltron, not necessarily into Allura...and maybe it was fine for them to do so as royalty? Opposing royalty...but...whatever.]

Just -- turn the other way?

[With a chin motion forward; it should be easier, less awkward if they're not made to breathe into eachother's space. Still really unfortunate (??????) circumstances...but....

He'd shift himself, but this makes more sense in his mind. He's pointedly not looking at her all the while.]

Edited 2018-08-25 17:18 (UTC)

What— [She blinks, not following his train of thought, and she can't help but look a little crestfallen as she confuses his request with dismissal. The whole situation is just so... awkward! And the feeling of freezing, combined with her annoyance at her own irrationality that was causing the freezing was starting to win out over her more delicate sensibilities.

So instead of laying back, she leans forward, rising up to look at him, even if he won't look at her,]

Keith, please. We need each other— [Ahem. She gestures to the blankets around them.] This isn't even close to the worst thing we've been through together. [Ah, that doesn't sound good either. She scoots closer, reaching to grip the elbow of his sleeve, like she had before.

Pleading,] Let's just lay together. I don't mind, really.

[Keith's immediately taken aback by how close Allura immediately gets to him after...after being inelegant about the whole waking up together thing -- putting it lightly.

And, he's just as quick to realize she's misunderstood something in his words, which shouldn't be a shock to anyone. Not because she's dumb or anything, but Keith can be sort of. Bad. With words. Even after vacationing with mom & cosmo wolf. His eyes follow her gesture before settling squarely back onto her face. His mouth falls ajar -- protest, clarification at the tip of his tongue...

But it never finds a voice, only because it's easier for things to pan out like this. Should he rectify things, he'll just be making them more awkward. Thoughts that coincide with her scooting closer, touching him....

There's a hard swallow; virgin behavior.]

Right, that's... [what I meant] good. Good idea. There's a quick nod of acquiesce.]

Right. [Again, more confident as he focuses on looking to the side and not the person directly before him.] Good -- I don't either.

[There's another moment that feels 15hrs longer than it actually is..before he's lying down, resting flat on his back...he'll adjust once Allura lies with him. He could offer his instructions again in a less-obscure way but

But this is fine.]

[She's relieved that they seem to be making some ground. They're both just too tired and cold to care much more about social boundaries, and it's really no big deal. They've fought in countless battles before, been stuck out in space, he rescued her from her crashed mecha. Stars—now that she thinks of it, during the fight with Yversai, she'd been practically sitting in his lap the whole time-

Allura clears her throat for no reason, wondering when her face suddenly got so warm.

The point is, he's been her only companion from home ever since she arrived on this planet. What was curling up together under a blanket (in an igloo, miles from the next living person,) compared to all of that?

Keith lays down and Allura hesitates for a fraction of the time before she slowly lowers to join him, scooting close enough to wrap her arms around him again, but she refrains from the last bit, just pulling the blankets up to her chin, and keeping her arms tucked in close to her body, as she stares at Keith, giving him a shaky, but reassuring smile,]

See? This is better, right?

[thisisfine.jpg]

[See, everytime they've been inappropriate it was for a practical reason.

Overall, there's a difference when Allura settles close. It could be better -- more awkward, but better, if their limbs were slightly tangled and they were bodily arranged in a way that kept heat in, but this is definitely fine. The blanket levels out around his chin, he'll spare a one-eyed sideglance...]

Yeah, this is better.

[If he weren't larping an echo chamber, he'd sound more stilted. It takes approximately fifteen seconds before the arm closest to her shifts; he'd intended on snaking it under her head, drawing her closer but...like..that's awkward and elbowing her in the face becomes a real threat? He just.

Lowkey highkey stretches his arm above her head, effectively cramming her into his armpit which is a separate level of uncomfortable.

Perfect.]

[Things are better for half a dobash before she's jammed into the crook of Keith's armpit. Is this how human's cuddle? If so, she's not a fan.

Or maybe he's waiting on her to move? Either way, she withstands about another half dobash of armpit before she sits up a little scooting up and turning to her side so that his arm fits in the crook of her neck and she can rest her head against it. Which is actually much more comfortable...except now it places their heads exactly at the same height and they're so close she's breathing on his cheek and it's somehow way worse than when she was sleeping with her head on his chest earlier.]

Keith...

[Her voice wavers uselessly.]

I don't think this is working.

[This. Is actually super uncomfortable and he can't pinpoint what is making it so bad, specifically, besides general awkwardness. He's glad Allura's the first one to speak up about it -- that it's mutual, but he also isn't sure how to remedy the situation without freaking her out again. Turning Away is forbidden.]

You're right. [He's sitting up again; he could very easily turn away and simulate what was implied earlier. Instead, he adjusts himself, turning toward her to slot their bodies together all at once. It's an inevitable part of the plan, closeness, pussyfooting just makes it weird.

Or so he's decided.

There's a murmured apology as he rests his head where his arm once stretched, atop her head, while that arm curves underneath his head. His other limb stretches across her shoulder, bending at it so he can reel her in close. It's an Advanced Move that he probably shouldn't know about, but these are trying times.

He's holding her, but not so firmly that she can't escape if this ends up being too much. For him, this is makes staying awake in hyper-awareness all the more easy.]

Oh!

[It's a sound that's better off kept to herself, but he surprises her with the way he pulls her close, bypassing another ten minutes of awkward shifting and apologizing by cutting to the chase. The warmth from his body burns down the length of her and she's grateful that her face is hidden in his neck, so he can't see the slow creep of heat up her neck to her cheeks and ears.

This Is Fine. Wordlessly, she takes his lead, slowly easing her arm from where it pressed between them to loop around his side, and briefly, she worries that he could feel the rapid, unsteady thud of her heart through her chest. He felt sturdier than she'd expected, solid and strong—unwanted observations. Mentally, she chastised herself for the physical (and sentimental) response that threatened to make all of this much more complicated.

But it was warm. She nestles her face into the hollow of his neck and closes her eyes. At this point it would be best just to sleep, or at least stay quiet and pretend, but—]

Are you... Is this comfortable for you?

[Physically. Emotionally.]

[As much as the outward-facing spooning situation would have been preferable to him, this makes more sense in his brain. He may have had more inhibitions about it had Allura not made it so confusing...so that was actually helpful. Easing into this arrangement might have been...weirder anyway, more time to fuss and overthink.

So here they are, entangled; it's immediately warm, not so express in being comfortable....but he'll get over it. A small sacrifice to last the night. Come morning, they won't ever have to think about this again.

Unless they have to...camp again.

There's a hard swallow as she nestles close -- she may feel his Adam's apple bob against her forehead. Overall, he hasn't anything to complain about. His knees bend slightly, lightly knocking hers but not daring to slip between.]

...Is this comfortable for you?

[Please, don't ask him hard questions. He'll just parrot them back and sweat nervously -- which is terrible, because the toiny bits of sweat beading at his hairline will cool and chill him eventually.

Despite this, he barely offers time for her to answer.]

I'm not gonna do anything weird. [Another swallow; his throat feels dry suddenly.] It's -- we can't have a fire in here.

[He's sounding ultra defensive all at once, like in his bipolar vlog. It's hard, trying to address something awkward that's happening in realtime. He's already behaving as if she called him a pervert & went in depth on how uncomfortable she is.]

But we don't have to stay like this. If you can't sleep, it defeats the purpose.

[Or something. It will , however, prevent freezing to death in a state of unconsciousness, theoretically..!]

What kind of weird things would y—? [She chokes on the end of her sentence, regretting it the moment it came out. She meant it as a “See, this is so casual and normal, who’s thinking of weird things! Definitely not me!” But the words come out wrong and she struggles to clarify.]

Rather! I mean. What I meant to say is! [Now it’s her turn to sound defensive, as if he called her out for un-princessly conduct. She’d pull back to look at him but at this point she’s dedicated to staying right where she is, for fear she wouldn’t be able to commit to this level of closeness once again if she were to pull away. Or guarantee that Keith wouldn't notice the way her face was burning. A huff of breath (against his neck) and she tries again,]

I'm... comfortable. With you. I trust you. [And that’s also the wrong thing to say, but for different reasons entirely. With Lotor’s betrayal still so fresh in her mind, trust feels like a fragile, precious thing, and thinking about it too much made her heartsick. Carefully, she eases the arm closest to the ground under Keith—the soft of where his belly meets his ribs to try and not create too much discomfort of laying on her arm—so she can more comfortably loop her arms around him in a hug.]

You never answered me. [Is this comfortable for you?]

You don't --

[He's not ignorant to the warmth at his neck, though he'd feign as much to save face. Sentimentality doesn't apply to him -- processing closeness results in brain breakage...or used to. It was fine for a while, and it all turned into a regrettable affair if only because a major plotpoint in his life is having close bonds abruptly removed. It isn't worth indulging, acknowledging, enjoying...

You don't have to say anything, it's a near-gripe that remains unfinished, quashed by that warmth he's so supposedly detached from. Trust -- she should trust him, by all means, but it's surprising to hear outloud. Like how couples need to be reassured occasionally of their affection with words, thoughts taking form. He very nearly feels vulnerable -- the hand looping around his middle works a strange tightness in his chest.

He's accommodating either way, shifting and brushing his hips to hers in the process of.]

Huh?

[As if he needs to buy himself more time.]

It's fine.

[He's being virginal about this, but his hand does move to cradle the back of her head, rather than just lying across her like deadweight.]

[He shifts, hips against hers and her heart is hammering in her chest so hard. She's not oblivious that she can't put a name to the feeling—she knows what infatuation feels like. Part of her is aware of the way things are escalating incrementally—his hand cupping the back of her head, her knee gently nudging into his legs, between them for warmth—each movement innocuous on its own but building towards something that isn't. It was like that before: Lotor's hands on hers, finding reasons to lean in close, unnecessary touching to emphasize a point of discussion. Her heart had hammered then too.

It hurts, but stars— more than anything, she hated that she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Her hands flatten on his back—Keith's back—hugging him closer, as if there's any space left between them, close enough now that her lips brush against Keith's skin when she speaks.]

Keith...

[It comes out like a sigh and fades into nothing. It's a statement, another tether rooting her into this moment instead of another. Her hands idly run along his back, following the outline of his shoulder blade under the fabric of his suit, up until the ends of his hair tickle at the back of her hands. Incremental. Innocuous.]

Edited 2018-09-01 18:14 (UTC)

[There's a natural separation as her leg treads the separation of his own, like knife through butter. He had considered this move earlier on but refrained from acting on it for the sake of modesty, something they discarded in entangling this to begin with. It's been some time since he'd held someone like this and he very nearly feels like pushing away, but his limbs aren't working counter-productively at the moment. They're filled with lead, fingers trembling slightly as they dip into her hair -- silky, as expected of royalty.

Or someone who uses high-end shampoos, conditioners and beauty products.]

What-?

[Kneejerk, borderline damsel-ish but, not sharp as much as just abrupt -- soft enough. He's certain she just kissed him -- unofficially -- it's an immature way of thinking inspired by their closeness, the way she's touching him. He can't tell if it's deliberate; maybe she's just getting emotional over something unseen?]

I'm not leaving, so you don't have to worry.

[A quick reassurance, in case she's still hung up on that. Without getting into too much detail...elaborating on a misunderstanding always feels odd.

Extra virgin olive oil.]

[Her hand mirrors his, carding through the ends of his hair. It's longer than she remembered, grown out like the rest of him during his time with the Blade and she wondered if they were still the same height. It's impossible to tell like this, bodies curved together unevenly and legs entangled.

His words make her chest feel tight and her eyes burn. She hadn't been worried, but the reassurance washes over her all the same, bringing back those fragile and precious thoughts about trust and comfort.]

I'm not worried. [Voice soft. He's still worried about her, and that doesn't help the burning at her eyes, or the dryness of her throat, and her body shifts along with her thoughts, just a gentle adjustment of limbs that would go unnoticed were their bodies not slotted together like this.]

I— [Her voice is uneven, half muffled against his neck,] I cannot stop thinking about everything that happened. Back home. I keep trying to take my mind off of it, but all I can think about is everything I should have done differently.

[She's not sure why she suddenly decided to get talkative. It came suddenly, like Keith's decision to put them in this arrangement in the first place, pussyfooting just makes it weird.]

[He'll take her word, relieved to not...have to offer reassurance in relation to what they're doing -- what they're not doing. He's shit at expressing himself on a good day, nevermind trying to reassure Allura that it's totally fine to snuggle in an igloo for the greater good. He does, however, feel her go a bit rigid beneath his touch; against him.

For a moment, he assumes she's not being completely truthful. His hand drags back about an inch or so, just withdrawing from her hair, but still holding her in place. His fingers fall into a loose fist at the crook of her neck.]

Allura... [This would be less personal if literally any other paladin was around/had woken up, jeeze.] You mean when you saved the entire universe? [Including Shiro...] Sacrificing the castle was necessary.

[You say "Lotor" and then I say "WHO??"]

[She shakes her head.] The universe would not have been in danger in the first place, if not for me.

Going to Oriande, building the Sincline— I played right into Lotor's hands. He lied to everyone, but I'm the one who fell for him—

[She bites off that sentence too late, and it's out there, hanging in the air as awkwardly as any of the other energy that's been between them this evening. But she doesn't rush and try to amend it, or brush it under the proverbial rug. It's not a secret—she didn't keep secrets from her paladins, her friends—and even if it was, she'd made it incredibly obvious with the way she'd found every excuse to go spend time in Galra Central Command of all places, then float around the castle when she'd return. Stars, everyone except Keith had front row seats to their little lover's spat—My feelings for you are real.]

Those movements after he took the throne, I thought—For the first time, maybe, finally, there was future with the Galra other than fighting and he... I was touched that he was so interested in Altea. [It makes her sick, with the what they know now. His obsession ran deeper than she could have ever imagined. In any case, this is all too much, she's rambling. Rationalizing. Little by little, she's drawing away from Keith. Staying in place, but drawing into herself. Her leg slips back to lay on the ground, and her hand untangles from his hair, moving back around him to wipe at her eyes. Despite the obvious tears that are happening, when she speaks, it sounds more angry than sad.] I trusted him.

[This entire conversation has become a sandwich of FUCK wrapped in a bigger sandwich of SHIT. It's like nuanced things that Keith hasn't the capacity for. He opens his mouth to counter initially, but there's more and he's silent.

This is unrelatable content. Well, Lotor kinda saved his fucking life at one point and locking arms seemed like an okay idea, 75% based on that, the rest based on his seemingly okay bond with team Voltron, the latter being a third party observation. In the end, Allura was burned more harshly than the rest of them had been.]

So you're gonna take responsibility for everything the Galra ever did until now? How were you supposed to know none of it was true?

[He kinda fucked his own generals over too, not to say they should've taken a note from that -- quite the opposite.

Does anybody remember that time Lance came to him to have a heart to heart and started fretting over how there were too many pilots and he didn't really belong on the team and Keith kinda just told him he sucked at math and to shut up?]

You were being optimistic, he took advantage of something he shouldn't have.

[She's drawing away, she has been this whole time -- from going tense against him until this very moment. He's not sure whether to draw back just as well, let her catch her breath, or use that as impetus to keep her close. She...she's...not outright searching for comfort as much as venting...

Christ he shouldn't have to think about this for so long. He'll ease up against her once more, shift incrementally to make up for her retreat, extend his reach back into the depths at her nape (i'm guessin her hairs pulled up and hes fuckin ruining it with his piano fingers), compelling her closer to his neck.

Trust...can be a fickle thing; he's not going to claim that she can trust him, not because she can't...but it's cliche. She knows him well enough at this point to know he's not up to anything weird -- barring any cryptid exploits. He tucks his chin in, NONCHALANTLY resting his mouth against her forehead.

La, la la la.]

[His response is in true Keith fashion: no-frills and to-the-point. Cutting to the heart of the issue without dancing around too much the hows and whys. But he wouldn't say anything he doesn't mean, and that in of itself is comforting. It's not some magic fix—there's not anything other than time that will really mend the wound—but it's touches her heart all the same.

He pulls her in close, pressing his lips to her forehead (it's a kiss, no matter how narration describes it) and it's a warm feeling. More than the heat from their physical proximity, but the warmth of companionship. Being cared for and accepted. The comfort of knowing that no matter how much she messed up (and there's not much worse than being in bed (proverbially????) with the enemy), she was not on her own.

She responds by wrapping her arms around him once again, hugging tight and basking in his warm, solid, comforting presence. His companionship. It was love. Different from the sort that made her breath short and her heart race (though some of that might be happening as well), but an enduring bond that she shared with the silly little group of humans (and one half-galra) that came into her life.

Quietly,] Thank you, Keith. If not for you, we may have never— I wouldn't—

[She gives an aggravated sort of huff as she struggles for the proper words. For discovering the truth, for stepping up as a leader right when they needed it, for now. Finally, she lifts her head and, if narration may be so bold, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.]

Thank you.

[He's not sure what he expected -- actually, he kind of expected, in spite of his attempts, that she would reject him entirely and they'd have to reconfigure some way to keep warmth while being respectfully apart. It's the opposite, however, and Keith has very little to fuss over.

Her praise isn't at all necessary, though. There was a time where he'd nearly gotten everyone killed, then proceeded to withdraw from the team entirely. He's made plenty of mistakes, all of which he'd be happy to regale her with but she's k..issing...him. Kissing him for sure, at the moment -- a peck, not even, and too lopsided to hold a ton of merit in terms of Regular Mouth Kisses but it's significant in every goddamn conceivable way.

An immediate flush takes his cheeks; it isn't enough to melt the igloo, a vague pink hue that could easily be mistaken for rosiness from the cold -- a dusting...only he's too warm, she's close enough to feel that radiation. I didn't do anything sits at the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he's selfish; he can't recall the last time he'd desired -- outright desired something he'd been fine to endure without for years on end. Maybe it's because he never truly opened up about his time here with Lance, never really mourned that loss, but...acting on nothing more than instinct, he's responding to that word of thanks with belated reciprocation. His mouth seeks hers for a proper, deliberate kiss, pulse beating so hard in his ears he can't even lay the groundwork for an apology.

It's just happening. Everything happens so much.]

[It shouldn't be surprising, all of those innocuous movements were building to it and she'd instigated, but even so, it catches her off guard. It lasts only a tick, but then she's angling her head towards him, pulse ratcheting up to drown out her thoughts. Well, not all of them, but the rational, responsible (guilty) part of her is easily ignored for the part of her that longs for companionship, closeness, anything to mend the part of her heart that still ached from betrayal.

And for once, there's no ghost of the past over her shoulder, it's just the warmth of the both of them together, isolated a million miles from the homes and the lives they once had. Somehow, for the first time in the whole evening, the space between them felt hot, so much so that it's almost a blessing when the blanket shifts as she moves to loop her arms around his neck, drawing him in closer.

Eventually, inevitably, there's a break in the kiss, and before Keith can get it in himself to feel embarrassed, Allura leans in for another, murmuring against his lips, pleading,] Don't... Don't apologize.

[Don't stop.]

[His pulse immediately spikes.

He's not sure...what he expected. At all. Not this, not ever this. Reciprocation falls short when mentally weighed against physical assault, vomiting, a lecture -- he could have breached her trust just then, if not for those mutual sentiments.

Apparently.

He draws in a breath at that separation, prepared to apologize -- prepared to stammer over something he doesn't truly mean, but he isn't afforded the opportunity. Lips find his own and she's already quelling those repentant thoughts. The grip in her hair goes unintentionally rigid, not yet pulling, but a firm grip seizes a handful of hair as his own lips part to utter something in turn; instead, a tongue rises to tread the seam of her lips. It's accidental at first, but it happens and it doesn't seem like they're doing takebacks atm.

So when he draws back, it isn't without a pull to her fuller lip, drawing it between his own, sucking lightly. Had he not been dragon married like...six months ago, he may be scrambling and acting like a virginal prick about this entire thing.

Alas, he's easing into it. Not without some inhibitions, but he's doing great sweetie.]

you're so brave...

Apparently I thrive on secondhand embarrassment

its a kink isnt it...

sdfjkdfs don't say it like that

WHY NOT....IF I DONT forget to change my icon from default its me forgetting to attack my rp partner

BEcause it's not true!! Also I'm sorry I made it worse.

please keep doing things like this

If anyone is stalking this thread I apologize because it is the worst

DONT APOLOGIZE TO THEM, THEY'RE BEING NOSY!!!

I'M STILL EMBARRASSED

this too shall pass... -gandalf

I wish this thread had never come to me - Frodo maybe

lets give up on it -sam

something something I don't know any more LoTR quotes.

time to heck this up -the gingers

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"touching Keith's mullet counts as second base" - me 2018

that was a really good statement tbh

this tag is a mess I'm sorry

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