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Lotor’s foot bobs beneath the table, legs crossed, as he scans over the text of the book in his hand. He startles slightly as the clinking of a coffee cup and saucer hits the table. His blue gaze darts up to meet dark eyes full of light, haloed by long black eyelashes. He’s done this oh so many times before, and as of late the boy has been the sole reason he’s come to this side of town so often.
The young man gives him an apologetic look, “sorry,” he murmurs shyly before he meanders back to the counter, grabbing another cup. Lotor eyes the back of the apron, nearly coming untied from movement about the bar. He quickly snaps his gaze back to the book in his hand, pretending to read but very aware of the movements of the other as he turns back around. Soon, the chair across from him is slid out, gently scraping against the floor, and the barista sits, cradling the warm mug in his hands. “Do you mind?” he asks quietly.
Lotor smiles softly, “not at all.” The response makes the other smile too. They did this sometimes, especially now that he was a regular. The spitfire had caught his attention so long ago now that he’s been able to see the more bashful side of him shine. The other’s personality had intrigued him, and his beauty had helped reel Lotor in - his eyes, his laugh, his smile - until he was utterly fucked. Now he made his way to this cute little hole-in-the-wall cafe solely for the boy before him: Keith. He’d grown quite the soft spot for him.
“What are you reading today?” Keith asks innocently, and Lotor tilts the book further toward himself to allow the other a view of the title.
Keith cocks his head slightly in curiosity, something that continues to endear Lotor to him, and huffs out a short laugh, “astrophysics, huh? You’re into some odd stuff.”
Lotor gives a slight smile, “perhaps it could come in handy one day, whose to know?”
Keith eyes him, “maybe.” His fingers tap against the mug softly and a thoughtful look plays on his features, “you...you’re a scientist, right? With the Galra Foundation?”
Lotor winces internally, “in a manner of speaking. It’s owned by my father, but I was... relieved of my duty there due to ethical differences.”
Keith nods slowly and sips his coffee, “I’m glad,” he says before he realizes the implication of what he’s just said. Quickly, he adds, “the Galra Foundation has always sort of creeped me out. My brother used to work for them.”
Lotor closes the book, not entirely invested anyway, and sets it delicately down on the table. He’d much rather talk with the barista anyhow. “What does he do now?” he asks.
Keith bites his lip, shifting uncomfortably. Lotor quickly picks up on the discomfort and addends, “uh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have asked.”
The young man shakes his head, black hair swaying a little against his downturned face. His eyes rise up to meet Lotor’s. “It’s...nice having someone to talk to about it. He, uh,” his voice wavers a little, so he clears his throat before continuing, “he disappeared. Takashi Shirogane. I don’t know if you knew him.”
Lotor’s eyes widen slightly. He did know him. Not well, though. He was one of the astronauts that went missing. He’d met him once a few years back. What a small and twisted world it is. “I met him once, briefly. From what I could tell he had a good heart,” he offers softly and Keith gives him a grateful look.
They sit in silence a while, staring out the window as the rain begins to fall, sipping their warm drinks. And then Keith speaks up again, just between the two of them. “I think they know what happened. I know something went wrong. I’m gonna find out,” he turns a determined expression toward Lotor, eyes blazing. Lotor has no doubt he’d go to the ends of the earth to find his brother.
He sets his cup down on the saucer softly and returns the determined gaze, eyes narrowing, “watch whose toes you step on around them. They are not good people, Keith.”
Keith shakes his head, “I know, but I have to know what happened. It’s like everyone’s been brainwashed by them. Everyone just accepted the crash as the cause of death, but Shiro wasn’t even on that ship.” His fingers curl tighter around the mug, grasping it like a lifeline, “something happened to him, and they just tacked his name onto the list of dead for a mission he wasn’t even a part of.”
A pang strikes its way through Lotor’s heart at the pain in Keith’s voice, the bubbling emotion straining the words in the other’s throat. “Be careful,” he warns. You can’t get hurt, he thinks, and the presence of the symbiote within curves in loops around the words silently.
The fire behind Keith’s gaze lessens into something of adoration, gratefulness, “always.” But it does nothing to settle Lotor’s nerves. Instead, he’s filled with an odd sort of dread, like stasis that’s endlessly cold and escape from its depths impossible. We’ll protect him, the voice in the back of his mind soothes.
He stares Keith down, brows furrowing, and he finds his mouth mimicking the other in a gentler tone as if a promise between them.
“Always.”
Rain beats the earth like a thousand drums, whips against his motorcycle helmet as he speeds through it. There’s somewhere he has to be, someone calling for him and every fiber of himself is pulling him in that direction. It’s a hunch really, a gut feeling, but it’s bone deep and denying it only deepens the anxiety enveloping him. He turns the gas trigger, yanks the handles of his bike to one side and hydroplanes as he turns, snapping upright fully as he hits the breaks, balancing on the front tire. He hits the gas once more and weaves through to slow driving cars. There’s a thrumming beneath his skin. It’s familiar, powerful, and he’s come to enjoy the feeling of completeness. Him and Sincline; they are one.
Lotor stops at the pier, stepping off the vehicle as it runs forward until skidding to a stop on its side. He marches up to the edge, boots stomping in the rain. The man with the gun cocks it, resting the barrel against the skull of another on his knees, hands raised. Eyes slide over to him, surprised, and quickly more guns are aimed at Lotor. Lackeys he hadn’t accounted for.
This will be fun , Sincline chirps in the back of his mind and he can’t help but smirk as he pulls the helmet over his face and tosses it behind him. Can I eat? I want to eat. They look tasty, Sincline hums excitedly, and Lotor can feel movement beneath his skin, and the sinew of his muscular back ripples with the symbiote attached to him.
“Just leave the victim,” he commands lowly, and Sincline vibrates with excitement.
“Who the fuck are you?” the aggressor drawls loudly in the rain. The man wears all black, and the wordless insignia of the Galra Foundation is stitched to the shoulder of his shirt.
Lotor feels the familiar creeping over his skin as his friend covers him completely and the man shakily raises his gun toward them in fear. He can hear himself laughing in chorus with his other half, “we are Sincline,” they hiss, and an arm shoots out at the man’s ankle, gripping it before throwing him against the docked freighter.
Sincline chirrups hysterically and lashes out at another of the men beginning to rapidly fire his gun off. Foolish, foolish, foolish! A mantra of insults hums in his head and one of the men that gets too close is suddenly swallowed whole by the jittering, black amorphous mass. This part Lotor will never get over, but they’re bad people. Very bad people. They deserve retribution. So he allows it.
The victim trembles, wide eyes turning up to stare at them, and suddenly Lotor’s world falls away from him, the earth gives away beneath him and his stomach drops. “Keith?” he whispers, and at the mention of his name, Keith’s eyes roll back and he collapses completely on the rain soaked ground below him.
The last of the men fires at Lotor and Sincline snaps their head sideways to glare the man down. A snack for the road, she smirks, and Lotor can feel the pressure forcing him to smirk as well. Within a foot of the man now, Lotor blinks, can feel and hear the echo of a crunch reverberate throughout his body, and as he opens his eyes the man is missing his skull. Sincline tosses the lifeless body to the ground, unimpressed. I’ve had better, she hisses and Lotor rolls his eyes, willing her back inside of him.
He quickly jogs up to Keith’s prone body lying limply on the tar. “Come on, come on, ” he hisses under his breath. He holds the young man’s face between his hands, “wake up Keith, come on, please wake up .”
Lotor let’s out a huff of relief when his ears pick up on a groan from the man in his arms. He’s fine, you pussy, Sincline jabs at him and Lotor’s brow twitches in annoyance. “Let’s take him back to the apartment, alright?” he extends to her.
Sincline seems to stir a moment. I don’t think that’s wise, Lotor, she hisses. What if he’s not okay with us? What if he’s not okay with me?
He sighs, “we can’t very well leave him out in the rain. Stop being self conscious.” There’s silence from his partner until she stirs beneath his skin again, slowly covering his body with her protective layers, weaving over him. Fine, she relents petulantly. He smiles, “thank you, Sin.” She doesn’t answer, instead they pick up the boy completely, cradling him close and launch off the ground in the direction of their apartment building.