The story of us (Shance Fluff Week 17/18)

Silver (2017 DAY 6: magic/tech)

"Do it again."
An impossible breeze blew through the sealed bedroom.
"Blue, are you ever going to get tired of this?" Shiro asked with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Lance's temple. In return, Lance pressed deeper into Shiro's side.
"Nope."

~

The astral plane had done many things for Shiro, as he discovered. He'd spent two months floating through some strange, detached consciousness whilst the team struggled on around him. Black relayed information back to him, causing Shiro to rely on the Lion and increasing the bond between them. Once he was deemed healed enough by the Lions, he had materialised back in the cockpit with a gale in his head and magic that allowed him breeze at his finger tips.
It turned out neither of the resident Alteans could explain it, having only seen anything like this before with the deepest of bonds between the Paladins of old. Even Coran had explained that Zarkon found it hard, only being able to summon a slight wind compared to the air that whipped around Shiro when his emotions got up.
A successful mission? The Paladins would exit their lions to a cool gust welcoming them home.
If a team member went down? Galra soldiers found themselves thrown against walls and floors with infinitely powerful arms of air.
Whenever Lance smiled at him, he was sure the air gained a salty, sea-like tang to it.

It also turned out to be the only thing better at calming down the blue Paladin than the circles that Shiro would rub on his back. On bad days, they'd sit in a dimmed room with Lance cradled against his chest, and Shiro's hands would work the air though his hair, drying his sweat-slicked chestnut locks and tear tracks on caramel skin. When Shiro would wake up from flashbacks, reaching for reality through mudded memories, Lance would hold him as close as Shiro wanted, the wind a constant companion at his back.

~

"How do you do it?" Lance had asked one bad night, curious voice breaking. Shiro smiled tenderly and pulled him closer.
"I don't really know." Admitted Shiro, grey eyes never leaving the silver wisps that lazily hung in the empty space above the bed. "I just think about it, and suddenly it's like being in a wind tunnel." His voice trailed off into a slightly sad laugh, aware of Lance tilting his head upwards on his shoulder.
"Maybe ask Coran, y'know babe?"
"Yeah." He nestled his cheek in Lance's curls. "He'll just tell me to keep training with it, like it's just another weapon."
The Galra arm felt heavy around Lance's waist.
"Hey." He felt an elbow jut into his chest as Lance rolled onto his chest, legs slotting between his and noses touching. It was slightly intimidating; Lance's eyes were staring into his, and he was acutely aware of Lance's hands on his shoulders. "It's not a weapon, yeah? It's a part of you now, and it's just as beautiful and soft as you, and if you think that just because, okay maybe you killed one or two Galrans with it-"
"Kitten."
Lance shook his head in apology, resting his forehead on Shiro's chin before looking back up. "What I'm trying to say is that it doesn't have to be a weapon if you don't want it to. But training will help you control it for good, not to help you kill with it."
A tan hand rested on his cheek, Shiro sending a small smile towards the concerned Paladin on top of him.
"Promise me you'll try?" Lance asked softly.
"Promise."
Lips briefly touched his, before pulling back when Lance rolled back off Shiro onto the bed. "I wish I could help you, y'know? So you're not alone with this."
"Stop worrying Blue, I'll be fine." Shiro assured, rolling over and letting Lance wrap lean arms around his middle.
There wasn't any reply.
"I know that silence Blue, what are you planning?"
Lance responded with a hum. "You'll see. Now, go to sleep. You need it."
"Yes sir." He snarked back.
As his eyes shut, he heard Lance huff behind him. They'd be okay.

~

When Shiro woke up the next morning, later than usual to his surprise, the bed was cold. Lance had obviously left earlier this morning and Shiro guessed he had let him sleep in. It took a bleary stumble around the attached bathroom and stubbing his toe on the doorframe to realise Lance's armour wasn't there either. Even after their extended period in space, the younger paladin still had a habit of rocking up to breakfast in his silk-like pyjamas, to the point where the Princess had stopped berating him on it.
Maybe his boyfriend was just having a productive morning. Who was he to judge?