Author's note: *sigh* There's a reason I don't write lemons. This is it.

Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron, in all of its incarnations. I'm glad they don't know about this. *grin*

Debriefing

Chip sighed, leaning back against the lockers in the gymnasium. When would the Drules learn? He took a sip of water from his bottle. He was almost too tired to move, but his mind was buzzing with thoughts, whirling a mile a minute. He knew that when he returned to his quarters he wouldn't be able to sleep right away, no matter how much he would like to, so why go back? He pulled his laptop out of his bag, and began typing.

A noise, quickly hushed, on the other side of the lockers made him look up. Someone spoke in very quiet tones, leaving Chip unable to make out the words. I thought everyone had left, he thought, slowly setting aside his laptop. Rather than announcing his presence, or just leaving, he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. As soundlessly as he could, he pulled on his uniform pants and shirt. He tiptoed down to the end of the bank of lockers, and peeked around, wondering who it was.

His eyes bulged.

Yes, it was Cliff and Jeff, he recognized them immediately, but it was what they were doing that boggled his mind. He leaned against the locker bank for support, mouth agape.

Cliff had Jeff pressed against the lockers, his hands buried in the captain's dark hair, devouring his mouth. Jeff didn't look like he was fighting . . . his arms were wound around Cliff's waist, his body molded pliant against the other. As Chip watched in amazement, one of Cliff's hands drifted down, stroking Jeff's side above the towel he wore about his hips, then kneading his ass. As the blond head moved down to nibble his neck, Jeff's hands clutched at Cliff's uniform, and Chip could hear him whimper in the absolute silence.

"You delight in it, don't you?" Cliff's usually cultured voice was rough with emotion. "You live for taking chances . . . making me worry about you . . ." His fingers plucked the towel from between them as he whispered against Jeff's neck. He immediately started to caress the skin now bared, teasing the other's hardening member.

Jeff shook his head back and forth against the lockers as Cliff suckled on his collarbone. "No," he panted. "No, I don't . . ."

"Then what was that stunt today all about?" But there was no chance for a reply, as Cliff kissed him savagely again. When he absolutely had to break it for air, he only pulled back the barest centimeter, his hands still roving the other's slim body. "Sometimes, you scare the hell out of me," he murmured against Jeff's lips, before dipping back in for another hard kiss.

Jeff's own fingers trailed down Cliff's chest, undoing his uniform top, and stroking the pale skin beneath. The touch of his hand made Cliff shiver, and he moaned as he ended the kiss.

"I'm sorry," Jeff offered softly, leaning forward to press his own kisses to Cliff's neck and chest, as if in further apology.

In the small corner of his mind that wasn't stunned by their actions, Chip knew what they were talking about. Jeff had distracted the ro-beast, while the rest of the force was waiting for the Sea Team to fight its way to them. Over the com, Chip had heard the quick intake of breath from someone as Jeff had narrowly avoided being sliced in two, but had no idea of who gasped. Now he knew.

Cliff groaned quietly, eyes closed, head thrown back. Jeff applied suction to one of his flat nipples, while his hand deftly unfastened Cliff's uniform trousers and dove inside.

"Ah!" Cliff shuddered, arching forward for more contact for a second, before grabbing Jeff's wrist. "No, turn around . . ." After reaching up for another kiss, Jeff did as ordered. He bent over slightly, bracing himself on the lockers. Cliff immediately spread the cheeks of his buttocks apart and thrust a finger into his hole. Jeff trembled, but pushed back onto the invader, biting his lip.

Chip could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him, though he knew he should leave. He should have left when he first saw them. He could feel the sweat dripping from his brow. But he was unable to move, transfixed by their actions.

Cliff worked him for a brief moment, then slid another finger into him. At this, Jeff moaned, and his erection quivered as more blood rushed to swell it. His motions became more urgent as he backed to meet Cliff's hand, whimpering.

As if waiting for that signal, Cliff pulled his hand away, and stepped forward, freeing his own erect manhood from his pants. Wrapping one arm around Jeff's waist, with his other hand he guided himself into his lover. Growling, he pushed in to the hilt.

Jeff stiffened, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He straightened, as if seeking more contact with the body pounding into him. Cliff slid his hand up over Jeff's hip, then down, to wrap around his penis. He pumped it in time with his thrusts, all the while whispering into the back of Jeff's shoulders, or maybe just nipping at them.

Jeff's moans became louder, "Harder, harder!" and he pushed back as forcefully as he could. Then suddenly, he gave a breathless cry, his hips jerking, as he reached his orgasm. Cliff bit down into the flesh of his shoulder, body shaking as with a couple more thrusts, he joined Jeff in his climax. For a moment, they were frozen, a tableau of ecstasy, panting, muscles stiffened, glistening dimly with sweat. Then they slowly collapsed together onto their knees, Cliff's arms still locked around Jeff.

Oh, gods, Chip thought. I can't believe this . . . He was horrified, but not so much that he couldn't feel the warmth of arousal coursing through him. I can't believe they did . . . that . . .

I can't believe I watched them . . .

Cliff rested his head on the back of Jeff's neck, breath slowly calming. His arms tightened briefly. "I'm sorry," he murmured, almost too low for Chip to hear. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me . . ."

Shifting slightly, Jeff pushed back his sweat-dampened bangs, and smiled over his shoulder. "It's all right."

Cliff shook his head. "No, I guess I do know . . . I just needed to feel you, to touch you, to know that you were still alive . . ." He moved one hand to gently caress the tanned shoulder he leaned against.

"It's all right, you know. I understand. And . . . I am sorry."

Cliff nodded mutely, and Chip was shocked to see tears in his eyes. Jeff must have felt one land hot on his back, because he quickly twisted about in Cliff's embrace to face him. "No," he said, wiping away the tears with his thumb, "no, please don't . . ." He drew the other against his chest, wrapping his arms around him.

"You always have to be the hero," Cliff whispered brokenly. "You always have to take chances . . . chances with a life I care about . . ."

"I know," Jeff replied softly, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of the other's neck. "But you know I don't mean to . . ."

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean you have to keep doing things like that. D'you know how close you came to getting killed?" Cliff asked fiercely. His hands clenched Jeff's arms almost tightly enough to bruise. "You're not invincible, you know. And I'm so afraid . . ." He choked back the rest.

Jeff coaxed Cliff's head off his shoulder. "Afraid of what?" he asked quietly, eyes solemn. "Afraid I will die?" Cliff looked away. Chip ducked back behind the lockers, hoping he hadn't been seen. When after a moment there was no outcry, he peeked around again, surprised at the direction this had taken, but still overwhelmed with curiosity . . .

"Are you afraid I'll die?" Jeff persisted, as the other's hands fell away from his body.

"Yes, damnit!" Cliff burst out, pulling away, pulling into himself. "I'm afraid you will die!" He wrapped his arms around his knees. Chip's heart went out to him; he looked so miserable. "I'm not sure I can live without you." Cliff's voice was muffled against his legs.

His face betraying his uncertainty, Jeff scooted over to sit beside him. He embraced Cliff again, bending his head close to the other's. "I don't think I could live without you, either," he said very quietly. "I've seen you pull stunts sometimes that make mine look like nothing. You frighten me to death, and when we get back, it's all I can do not to scream at you in front of everyone . . . and at the same time, I want to just hold you, to convince myself that you're still alive." He squeezed Cliff slightly. "So I know what you're feeling."

"Then why did you do it?" Cliff asked softly. He was leaning against Jeff now, needing the contact.

Chip thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to know what Jeff would say.

Jeff sighed. "Because I can't ask anyone else to do what I would not. Could you?" Cliff shook his head. "So there you go. We're a well-matched pair of hero wannabes."

Cliff snorted, and Jeff smiled. "How about next time, you help me?" he asked, stroking the other's blond hair. "That way, we can watch out for each other, right? And neither of us will have to be upset with the other for taking chances."

"I like that idea." Cliff smiled shyly up at Jeff, through his disheveled hair.

Now grinning widely, Jeff kissed him gently. "Good." He climbed gracefully to his feet, and stretched. Seemingly unconcerned with his nudity, Jeff leaned down to give Cliff a hand up, and then wrapped his arms around him again. Looking into Cliff's eyes, he whispered wickedly, "Though I might miss these after-battle . . ." He was cut off by a sudden deep kiss, his eyes wide and surprised, then slowly drifting shut as he melted against Cliff.

"Who says it can't be anytime?" Cliff's voice was as teasing as Jeff's had been a moment before. "Get dressed, and we'll go back to your room."

"So you can undress me again?" Jeff grinned.

Silently, Chip backed away, around the lockers to the other side. He quickly gathered his things, stuffing his laptop into his bag. He'd thought his mind was filled before, but that was nothing compared to the images and emotions swirling there now. Their quiet baiting of each other still echoed in his ears as he left the locker room. Once outside, he clutched his bag to his chest, and nearly ran back to his quarters. Thankfully, he met no one. In his room, he rested his back against the door, panting.

Wretchedly, he wished he hadn't stayed to watch. He was aroused by what he'd seen, almost against his will, and that was part of it, but he was also uncomfortably aware that the encounter- their entire relationship- was against regulations.

Ignoring his excitement, hoping it would abate, he sat down on his bunk and opened his laptop.

***

In amazement, Pidge stared at the message he'd just received from Chip. Thank all the gods that he'd remembered to put it into a language that few would know, Pidge thought. I'm glad I could remember when he was learning this dead tongue, how he dragged me into learning it, too.

But his reply could be made in the common tongue, because he wasn't going to betray any secrets. He looked up from the terminal in the rec room, and grinned. Keith lay curled up asleep on one of the couches, his head resting in Lance's lap. Lance absently played with Keith's hair as he read his book, though he looked down from time to time, smiling.

On the other side of the room, Hunk was watching an old movie on the vid. When he looked up, he caught Pidge's eye. "Hey, squirt," he called, voice rumbling, "you gonna finish watching this with me?"

Lance shushed him irritably, making Hunk grin. His dark eyes held a wealth of promises when he looked at Pidge again. Pidge smiled. It was going to be quite a night, he thought.

"Just a minute," he replied, and turned back to the terminal.

~

January 1, 2002

© randi (K. Shepard), 2002.