Okay, yeah, I know, this one took 3 weeks to get out, I'm sorryyyyyy! There was stuff going on, and stuff I had to take care of, so yeah. If you'd like to be in on all that stuff though so you know when I'm not gonna be able to release a chapter, you should follow me on Tumblr (yes I am using my extended absence as a self plug in)! Link can be found on my profile page, heh...

Anyways, I really am sorry if you've just been waiting with no update *orz*

***

Lance clung to Lotor like a magnet to iron the entire car ride back to the estate, refusing to detach his head from his chest for even a second. In all honesty, a part of him had never expected to see his biological father again, ever. He'd done his best to just never think about that man or about any of the other people in his family, so seeing him without any sort of preparation had Lance completely shaken, his mind and body overrun by a thousand stray emotions. Amongst all the turmoil, there was only one thing he could truly fall back to; his need for Lotor.

Even as they left the limo, he continued clinging to Lotor even more than he had the entire day out, practically stepping on him while squeezing his arm. Lotor didn't push him away or give any indication that he minded, of course, because Lance knew his daddy loved him and wanted him to feel safe.

Several of Lotor's maids greeted them as they came in through the front, but Lance paid them no mind. He had no intention of paying attention to anyone or anything other than Lotor, because he didn't need to. Lotor would take care of all of that for him. He didn't need to focus on anything outside of their little world.

As they approached the stairs leading up to the second floor, however, Lance couldn't help but catch sight of the cellar door in his peripheral vision, and suddenly, that was completely in his focus.

He could feel his heartbeat picking up pace as the world closed in from all around him, screams resonating through his aching head. Shackles that he hadn't felt in a very long time were holding him down again, and as emotionally draining as the day had been, he felt like he could break down all over again as his knees trembled, threatening to let him fall.

"Hey." Lotor cupped his cheek and kissed the root of his nose with prolonged intensity, sending waves of warmth through his nervous system. "It's okay, baby. Daddy's here. Let's go back to the room and we can make sure you feel better. Come on."

Lance gulped, somehow managing to tear his eyes away from the door, and squished his body up against Lotor's even more. He couldn't speak, and he couldn't think of anything to say in that moment anyways, so he just nodded and let Lotor lead him up the stairs, blinking away the sting of tears and leaving the cellar door behind...although, he could never truly leave it behind...

Lotor lead him back to their room, where Lance immediately spotted several familiar bags leaning against their bed, each one bearing the logo of Balmera.

His eyes lit up, and he pulled on Lotor's arm excitedly, gladly accepting the chance to be happy about something. "Daddy, daddy! You got them for me?"

He was met with a snicker as Lotor patted his head and took them over to the bags so Lance could peer into them. "Yep. I made sure my servants bought everything you tried on before we left. Go on, take a look. Tell me if I missed anything."

Lance didn't need to be told twice. He bent down and began sorting through all the clothes, smile rising by the second. Of course Lotor would go and surprise him with something like this; Lotor loved him, after all. He knew seeing his father would upset him, so he prepared accordingly to make it up to Lance.

He immediately rushed back to Lotor, throwing his arms around him with a jump. "Thank you, daddy!"

Lotor stroked his hands through his hair, accepting the hug and letting Lance nuzzle his face into him. "Of course, baby. Daddy loves you. Now, why don't you dress up a little for me and we can see how it all really looks on you? That'll cheer you up, won't it?"

Lance's perked up at that, and he pulled back so he could look Lotor in the face with shining eyes. Lotor always knew how to treat him. "Yes, that sounds fun, daddy! I'll do it right now!"

He rushed back to his bags of clothes and began picking things out to show off first. Getting himself all prettied up for Lotor's enjoyment was one of his favorite things to do, because it meant pleasing Lotor, and that was all he wanted to do.

Wasting no time, he slipped his clothes off and began putting on different sets of revealing lingerie, smiling at Lotor confidently. His body was one of the few things he was proud of, after all.

Lotor had already told him at the mall that he thought Lance looked good in everything, so it came as no surprise when he approved of his look no matter what he put on. Because of this, he went through his stash of new clothes relatively quickly, taking moments to fawn over his favorites before ending with his newest pink ones.

"Do I look okay, daddy?" He asked, even though he'd asked this exact question at the mall already.

Lotor's grin slipped away into a straight face, and he beckoned for Lance to come to him, patting his lap.

Lance eagerly rushed over and mounted Lotor, throwing his legs over each side of him until he was straddling his lap and looking down at him. It didn't take long for them both to initiate a passionate kiss, tongues sliding together with joyful content. Lance always melted at every kiss with Lotor, but this one especially felt nice after having to go through that entire experience at the beach with his father. He desperately needed something like this.

They made out for a good minute, with Lance grinding his hips down onto Lotor's lap for added passion and friction, before finally separating, staring at each other and taking several moments to catch their breaths.

"...you look very pretty," Lotor stated, basically just repeating what he'd already conveyed through the kiss. Still, hearing it from his mouth made Lance keen in delight, and he hugged himself closer as they pressed their foreheads together.

"I'll make sure to wear it tonight!" He exclaimed with a giggle. "...or are we not performing tonight?"

He hadn't considered that he might not be allowed to perform anymore due to how poorly his performances had been without Lotor there to keep him in line. It was a scary thought; he couldn't even imagine what it was like to not perform. Lotor quickly put that notion to rest, though.

"Of course you'll perform, baby, and I think the men will like that color on you." He stroked the back of Lance's head repeatedly, speaking in a hushed, reassuring voice. "...however, we're going to be changing your stage name."

Lance's eyes widened at that, and he leaned back a bit to look Lotor straight in the eyes, panic flaring up in his stomach. "But...isn't that bad, daddy? What if not as many customers recognize my name when it's announced? What if they don't like it? What if I'm-"

"Shhh. Sweetie, don't worry." Lotor shushed him, grabbing his chin and successfully quieting him. His thumb traced its way over Lance's bottom lip in an erotically soothing manner. "It'll be okay. People will adapt to it soon enough. We're getting rid of BabyBlue to show that that version of you is gone. People have come to associate that name with you when I wasn't there...and that's no good. We need to show the world that the 'old you' is back. The 'better you' is back."

Lance let Lotor's words sink in, and the more he explained his reasoning, the more sense it made. It was true that a new stage name would represent a new stage for him, or rather, returning to an old one. Like Lotor said, going back to a time when he was 'better'.

"...okay," he muttered slowly, relaxing himself into Lotor's arms and letting his panic ease up. "What's my name going to be?"

"The only other name it could be, of course. 'Daddy's Boy'." His fingers graced over Lance's cheek, stroking with the lightness of phantom hands. "You remember that name, sweetie? From long ago?"

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, because he did indeed remember that name from a long time ago. From when things were much different. Just hearing it brought back images of an empty room and a single cam recorder, light flashing red as it took in every second of him exposing his body to the world for the first time.

He gulped and leaned his face into Lotor's hands, tilting his chin down in a small nod. It was fitting that he go back to that name, and it wasn't like he would ever argue with one of Lotor's decisions, anyways.

"Okay, daddy."

Lotor made a satisfied humming sound. "That's a good boy; that's the boy I'm proud of. Perfect little daddy's boy, that's what you are." He planted kisses against Lance's face, eliciting small giggles from him. He was okay with this. If it made Lotor happy, then he was okay. Lotor always knew best, anyways. If he thought this was for the better, then it was.

"Oh. I need you to do one last thing for me, baby." Lotor pulled back from the kissing and gently set Lance aside on the bed as he tilted his head curiously.

"Anything, daddy!"

Lotor clapped his cheek lightly before getting up and walking to a drawer, with Lance's eyes following him all the way. Somehow, he could feel the atmosphere in the room had just changed. Unlike with the renaming, Lotor wasn't giving him much details as he walked a paper and pen back over to Lance. Something about this was sending warning signs through Lance, but...no, he had to trust Lotor. Lotor knew what was best.

He accepted the paper and pen upon Lotor offering them to him, gulping and looking it over with apprehension. "Um..."

"Sign it." Lotor leaned down, pointing to a blank line at the bottom of the page. "Go on. Sign your name there."

Lance's eyes traveled down to the blank spot where his name was apparently supposed to go, stomach tightening into a knot of uneasiness. He thought Lotor was supposed to take care of these things for him?

"...what is it?"

"You don't have to worry about that." Lotor stroked his hand through Lance's hair and down the side of his face. "All you have to do is do as I say and sign it. All you have to do is trust me. Daddy knows best, baby."

Sweat began accumulating in Lance's palms, and he gulped in indecisiveness, eyes briefly scanning through the top of the paper. It was some sort of contract...

Lotor growled, tightening his grip on Lance's face, and the mere promise of a threat instantly brought images of the cellar to mind.

"You're taking too long," he snarled. "Don't you trust me? Don't you love me? Or...do you not anymore?"

Panic flashed through Lance like a strike of lightning, and he immediately reached up to hold Lotor's wrist. "N-no! I-I do! I do love you, I promise, I swear! Here!" He quickly scribbled his name on the line Lotor had indicated, immediately looking up at Lotor, desperate to prove himself; desperate to make sure Lotor didn't think he didn't love him for even a second.

"That's perfect." Lotor wasted no time in grabbing the paper from Lance before he could direct his attention towards it again, ignoring the pen and kissing Lance's forehead in approval. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. You're such a good boy. You make daddy so happy."

He pulled Lance into an embrace, and even though his arms were warm and his praise made Lance's panicking brain settle down in relief, he couldn't seem to control his heart as it drummed against his chest in warning, as if he'd just made a huge mistake.

No. Stop. It's Lotor, he scolded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into the embrace. No matter what, I can trust Lotor. Lotor will take care of me.

He took a deep sigh to calm himself down, and although it didn't fully work, he pretended it did, to get rid of that nagging voice in his head. He didn't dare doubt Lotor.

Lotor knew best.

***

As soon as night descended, Lotor and Lance made their way back to the Web of Sins, the familiar atmosphere serving as a huge comfort to Lance. Dancing and showing off at the club had always been his main escape from the troubles of his mind, and right now, he needed that escape more than anything.

He expected to see the same velvety decoration that usually lined the inside of the club, so when he saw symbols that resembled that of the Galra business, his skin began to crawl, and he had to huddle closer to Lotor's arm as they walked in. The atmosphere may have been the same, but the look was definitely not the look of the club he remembered.

"Daddy..." He murmured, gulping as he turned his head in every direction to take in the new look.

Lotor shushed him, linking their arms tighter as they disappeared into the backstage room. "Don't worry, sweetie. I know everything's changing, but it's for the better. You see, I went into a deal with the manager, and as it turns out, I run the club now."

Lance released an inaudible gasp, eyes increasing in size. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that. Happy? Impressed?

Lotor ran the back of his fingers down Lance's cheek, as if smoothing his skin out. "Since it's my place now, I had my men do a bit of redecorating, so everyone will know who the club belongs to now. And of course, since I own the Web, all the bouncers are also my men." He leaned forward, whispering into Lance's ear breathily enough to tickle him. "That means I've got my men all around the club. I've got eyes on you at all times. I won't be with you all night, but I'll know if you behave like a naughty boy. I'll know if you don't do your job good enough. I'll know if you deserve punishment."

Having Lotor's breath on him was chilling enough in this scenario, but hearing his words froze Lance even more. Goosebumps that had been steadily rising suddenly sprouted across his skin, and his breath caught in his throat, basically leaving him a lifeless scarecrow. Of course he wanted to be a good boy at all times for Lotor anyways, but now, there really was no room for a slip up of any sort. And with all the changes to his stage name and the look of the club, Lance was already feeling the pressure and stress...and it all just made his knees tremble, because he didn't want any more stress, he just wanted to escape his troubles...but being good always came first—especially when he'd been so bad lately without Lotor.

His silence was taken as understanding, and Lotor patted his cheek a few times before pulling back with a grin. "There's a good boy. Now, I have a few check ups to do with the place, so while that's going on, you're going to do a few rounds around the club taking lap dance requests, like usual. We'll have our performance together on stage just like last time in a bit. Be a good boy, and make me lots of money."

He kissed Lance's forehead, holding his lips to his skin for an extended period of time to emphasize the temporary separation.

Admittedly, Lance didn't know how comfortable he felt right now without Lotor next to him, but he wasn't about to argue. Lotor had already made the threat of knowing when he deserved punishment once tonight, he wasn't going to tread that line. Instead, he just nodded and sunk into Lotor's body when he hugged him.

"Okay. I can do that for you, daddy. I'll make you lots of money!" He put on his best smile for his daddy to send him off with positivity, and it worked, because Lotor smiled back at him.

"Until our performance, then, sweetie." There was one last forehead kiss before Lotor disappeared deeper into the club, leaving Lance by himself for the first time in what seemed like forever. He'd already forgotten what it was like to not have Lotor with him, and he didn't like the feeling. He needed Lotor...but right now, he just needed to focus on his job.

Lance quickly slipped his clothes off until he was only in his pink lingerie before heading out into the main club floor, scanning the area to see if he should find a customer by the bar counter or if he should catch a customer who had just arrived. In his observation, though, he couldn't help but linger at the sight of the multiple uniformed men around the room, standing cross-armed with all eyes on him. It was just as Lotor said—he was being watched at all times.

He took a few deep breaths, letting the uncomfortableness leak from his body and replacing it with determination. He would prove to Lotor that he could be good for him even when he wasn't personally there to moderate Lance's behavior. He would prove that he could make his daddy lots of money.

He would do anything for the man who would be there for him for the rest of his life.

***~Keith~***

Keith wasn't sure whether Lance would be performing at his usual times or if he would even be at the Web to begin with, but he arrived relatively early just in case. Ideally, he wanted to catch Lance before his big performance with Lotor, since they apparently always had sex on stage, and Lance probably wouldn't be out and about after that.

The mere thought of having to watch Lance have sex with another man again was like bullet wounds to the chest, but that only served to further Keith's desperation.

He sat at the bar counter with one leg propped on his knee, refusing any drink offers. He wasn't here to get drunk, nor was he here to forget his problems; he was here to sort things out and to hopefully protect Lance.

Keith didn't actually know much about Lotor, but after asking Coran about it some more, combined with the information Matt had given him, the performance last night between Lance and Lotor seemed to be pretty standard for them. Just remembering the spanking and the way Lotor dragged Lance by his hair made Keith's blood boil, but knowing that that was 'standard' for their relationship multiplied his disgust tenfold.

He'd literally been on the edge of his seat for the last hour, scanning the club for any sign of Lance, ears perked in search of that familiar bubbly giggle. And, of course, he had his eyes peeled for the unsightly ghostly white of that demon's hair. Besides the occasional boisterous ruffian, however, the only thing that caught Keith's eye was the seemingly increased presence of the bouncers standing stationary around the room, and while he was somewhat impressed with himself for being able to tell when something seemed different about the Web, none of this was what he was looking for.

"...I'll be back later, Coran." Keith waved with the back of his hand as he left to wander the club.

Despite his strong distaste for strip clubs, Keith had always found the general atmosphere of the Web enjoyable thanks to its tidiness and style; excluding the spider webbed entrance sign, of course. Tonight, however, the flashing red lights above him were nothing more than a headache—and red was usually his color, too. He could only hear sirens blaring in his head as he shouldered past groups of people, eyes always hunting for a glimpse of Lance's ocean-blue eyes.

He must've been exerting an aura of hostility, because even when he stopped moving to just look around the room, not a single stripper even tried approaching him. He wasn't complaining, of course—if anyone tried talking nonsense to him right now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep himself from getting cross with them.

There was so much movement going on in the club around him that he was constantly afraid he may have just missed Lance. He kept twisting his head, looking each person over at least twice to make sure they weren't Lance. Due to this, his eyes quickly began to feel like raw olives by the time he figured Lance just wasn't here tonight.

His heart sank into his chest, and he let his shoulders slump forward, frantically trying to work out what his next plan of action would be. Naturally, that was when he saw him.

He almost couldn't blame himself for not recognizing Lance; the pink lingerie adorning his body was unlike anything Keith had seen him wear before. Also, for all he knew, Lance could've just arrived or something, but that wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was that Lance was right there with no Lotor in sight; the scenario couldn't have been better.

Keith strode up to him from behind, grabbing Lance's wrist and leaning in close when the unsuspecting boy whipped around to face him.

The fire that burned in his blue eyes didn't even last for a second as his face dropped in shock upon coming nose to nose with Keith. Both of his eyebrows were rising to create an expression Keith had never seen on Lance's face before, and he felt his heart ache at the feeling of Lance trying to pull his wrist out of his grip.

"Lance! It's okay, it's just me, I'm not some creepy old dude!" Keith assured, pulling his face back a bit so Lance could get a better view of his face. That didn't help at all, unfortunately, as Lance just tugged harder against Keith's hold, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Suddenly, Keith felt bad, like he was some aggressor holding Lance against his will.

"Lance...? Can we talk?" His voice quivered just slightly, fingers loosening around Lance's wrist the more Lance struggled. He seemed to be panicking, letting out small whimpers as he wriggled his arm against Keith's to try and free himself.

Keith's chest caved in on itself as he let go of Lance, hating the feeling of controlling his movement. He quickly ran to catch up with him so they were side by side, though.

"Hey, what's wrong? Come on...you gotta talk to me, Lance!" He urged, voice tipping near the point of cracking. He hadn't gotten very much sleep between the time when Lance and Lotor first performed on stage to now, but even so, he was feeling more awake than ever. Adrenaline was pumping hot air through his muscles like a hydraulic press, and while Lance had been the one frantically struggling against him earlier, Keith was the one who felt like he could have a heart attack at any moment.

"Lance...please?" He tried reaching out again, words getting caught in his throat, but before he could touch his shoulder, Lance recoiled and turned on Keith once more, eyes wide and lined with distress.

"Keith..." He murmured, voice so soft he might as well have been whimpering with each word. "Keith, I...I can't. I can't talk to you anymore, Keith. Please...go away."

He tried hurrying away again, but between the ache in Keith's heart and the shock crackling through his veins, he wasn't exactly capable of thinking before acting, and his hand reflexively shot forward to grab Lance's wrist one more time.

Keith had no clue what he was doing or what he even should be doing. He knew holding Lance against his will was wrong, he didn't want to be like Lotor, but there was clearly something wrong here...Lance wasn't snubbing him, he was nervous; scared, even. That much was evident by the pleading glint in his eye as he looked up at Keith, still trying to pull his wrist away.

He just needed Lance to talk to him; he just needed the chance to have time with Lance. So, he let go of Lance's wrist, speaking quickly as Lance turned to run away again.

"Dance for me." He didn't like sounding commanding, but he was desperate, and his approach seemed to work as Lance froze.

Keith gulped. "I'm a customer, and you work here...right? I wish to buy a lap dance from you." He never thought he would say these words while sober for as long as he lived, and for good reason. It felt so wrong to him, offering money in exchange for sexual stimulation...but he didn't have any other plan right now.

Lance hesitated for at least two verses of a pop song before slowly turning back to Keith, shoulders stiff and head hanging slightly. "...I'm at your service."

Keith was both relieved and disgusted by that answer. On the one hand, it meant he would get to talk to Lance, but on the other hand, he couldn't help but get the implication that Lance just wasn't capable of turning him down, not because he was Keith, but because he was a customer.

"Come." He gently grabbed Lance's hand, frowning and leading him towards the back of the room. There were several sets of couches for customers to sit on while receiving lap dances, and while he was mildly disturbed at his own knowledge of where to go for a comfortable dance, that was the least of his worries right now as he let himself sink down. Naturally, the Web had furniture that was way too good for such an immoral place.

Now that they were supposedly doing business, Lance didn't hesitate to approach, turning around to give Keith the perfect view of his ass and backing it up to press against his chest, and yes, it was hot enough to give Keith a nosebleed, but it was also pretty hard to focus on sex appeal when his chest was still on the verge of splitting open.

"Lance...talk to me. Tell me what's going on," he pleaded, wanting nothing more than to lift Lance off of his lap to squeeze him in a hug.

He wasn't focusing on the dance at all, but even still, he could tell Lance wasn't putting his heart into it one bit as he pressed his ass to Keith's crotch and swayed his hips despite his trembling.

"Lance!" Keith exclaimed, brows furrowed worriedly. He could just feel Lance's nervousness coming off him in waves, and the dancer even ended up hugging himself while bucking his hips against Keith.

"...I'm sorry..." Lance's voice was barely a whisper, speaking as weakly as he was dancing. "I'm sorry, but we can't be around each other anymore Keith..."

Panic was quickly settling back into Keith as the worst case scenario began to develop right before his eyes.

"Why? Why can't we be around each other anymore?"

Lance was silent.

"Lance, why?! Tell me why!"

"I'm sorry!" Lance cried more than shouted. "I just...please. Please don't talk to me anymore...I can't-"

"Is it Lotor?" Keith blurted out, already knowing the answer. Lance had paused and wasn't answering him, but Keith already knew he was right. "I know about Lotor, Lance. I was there last night, and I heard all about him from Matt Holt." His eyes fell to the ground as Lance's dancing stopped completely. "...are you going back to Lotor? Are...are you breaking up with me, Lance?"

The words alone felt like saws against his heartstrings, and Lance's silent contemplation just made Keith's chest that much heavier. When he finally did turn to show Keith his face, his lips were pressed tightly together, as though trying to stop him from speaking. He spoke anyways.

"Yes."

Keith's surroundings shattered and crashed in on him from every side, and he went limp beneath Lance, who continued as though he hadn't hurt Keith enough yet.

"I...I can't be with you, Keith. Lotor is the only one for me...I'm so sorry..."

"Why?" Keith's voice broke a little, but he didn't care. He'd seen the way Lotor dragged Lance by the hair and he'd heard Matt's opinions on the guy, so while he was hurt, he was also incredibly confused.

Lance was refusing to make eye contact, but kept his face turned so Keith could see his expression of finality. "You don't...I...Lotor, he understands me, and he loves me for me..." His hips started up again to resume dancing, but Keith immediately grabbed a hold of Lance's arm, turning his body towards him.

"Lance, please, you have to tell me if Lotor is hurting you," he pleaded.

Shock visibly turned to disbelief on Lance's face as he recoiled away from Keith, turning around fully and leaving his lap empty.

"What?! What would make you think that?" He exclaimed, still hugging himself.

Keith gulped. There was no going back now; he had to play this card and lay it all out on the table.

"Matt said he once saw Lotor hit you, and I saw the way he treated you on stage...please Lance!" He stood from the couch. "Please, tell me if he's hurting you. I'm worried-"

"No!" Lance protested, backing up whenever Keith stepped towards him. "You...that's not...! Lotor would never hurt me! He only hits me when I deserve it—he does it to teach me better, because he knows I'm capable of better, because he believes in me, because he loves me!"

Keith didn't know whether he wanted to rampage or sob upon hearing Lance's disgusting claims, but it was probably somewhere in between.

"Lance, people don't hit the ones they love, no matter what the reason-"

"Lotor is the only one that loves me!" Lance argued, interrupting Keith once more. His voice wasn't loud enough to draw attention to them over the music, but it was enough to cut through Keith's body; particularly his chest.

"Lotor is the only one that loves me...he's the only one who knows everything about me, and somehow still loves me anyways. Everyone would hate me if they knew how hopeless I am..." Lance rubbed his arms up and down his own sides, stumbling back more. "Only Lotor could ever love me despite everything..."

He fell silent, and Keith fell silent with him. He didn't completely understand what Lance was talking about, but he knew that Lance had confirmed that Lotor hit him, and that was disgusting and wrong no matter what the explanation was. He didn't fully comprehend why Lance claimed nobody else could love him, but he did know one thing...

"I want to."

Lance looked up in shock, meeting Keith's eyes for the first time and letting him see those blue eyes in all their glory, only the color seemed slightly faded. The life seemed faded.

"I want to love you," Keith continued, taking a bold step forward. Lance didn't step away. "Will you let me try, Lance? I...I don't know what you meant, but, let me try loving you. Let me try understanding you, and I promise, I'll never hit you, I'll never lay a hand to you, and I'll never use your body for myself in front of a huge crowd of men. You said you preferred what happened between us in my car more than the public stuff, remember?"

He slowly outstretched a hand towards Lance's wrist, but Lance flinched back, eyes shaking along with his entire body. He looked like he could collapse at any given moment, which only made Keith want to hold him and help him stand that much more.

"Stop!" Lance shrieked, taking a step back. "It's pointless. You'll hate me, Lotor said so. Lotor said nobody loves me but him."

Fire went off in Keith's veins, eyes flickering dangerously as the imaginary target on Lotor's face grew bigger and bigger. There were more pressing matters than his anger right now, though, so he somehow stuffed his rage into the pits of his core while extending his hand further.

Lance almost looked like a tortured animal, cowering in the corner, and it shot needles through Keith's heart to know that he was the one Lance was cowering from...although in a way, it was really Lotor who created this image of Lance.

"Lance, that isn't true, that's only what Lotor says. He's just trying to manipulate you."

"Stop it!" Lance barked, face paling until it was the most colorless Keith had ever seen it. "That isn't true, Lotor knows best. Daddy knows best, only Lotor understands...I...!" He wasn't able to finish his sentence as he turned tail and fled.

"Lance!" Keith rushed forward, but he couldn't bring himself to force Lance to stay by the wrist again, and so, he ended up watching Lance disappear into the crowd, heart sinking past the floor to the pits of hell.

He was a huge clusterfuck of fluctuating emotions, each one so volatile they threatened to take over him. His eyes never left the opening where Lance had disappeared into the crowd, as if still following him in a wishful attempt to bring him back. He wanted to slump to the floor and roar in frustration, but he also wanted to find Lotor and to beat him against the wall.

The fact that someone would tell another person that they couldn't be loved was disgusting, and it was even worse when the person on the receiving end of that manipulation was Lance. Keith wasn't going to stand for it. Lance's words had cut straight through him and shattered him...but at the end of the day, he knew it wasn't Lance's fault. There were still some things Keith didn't know, but what he did know was that what Lotor was doing was emotional abuse. He was using Lance, toying with his beliefs and degrading him...

Keith felt like an empty corpse that had bled out, but Lance must've felt even worse. That was why Keith was going to save Lance from Lotor, no matter the cost.

***~Lance~***

In all his years as a stripper, Lance had never before walked out on a customer. He'd always been the most diligent worker, making sure no man walked away from him without being properly satisfied—but he'd broken that now.

He wasn't sure what was causing his heart to pound harder, the fact that he'd just ran away from a customer, or the fact that that customer had been Keith. Whatever the case, he was having a hard time breathing as he stumbled towards the staff bathroom, knees shakily and barely supporting him.

His reflection in the mirror looked like a ghostly outer shell of the him he was used to seeing. Red was beginning to pop out in his eyes from all the crying he'd been doing lately, and his skin was unhealthily pale—no doubt a reaction to his nervous breakdown.

Obviously he never wanted to be someone who would walk out on a customer, but he just couldn't stay there with Keith for even a second longer...

The more he thought about it, the more strangled his breathing became, and he was fully convinced he would collapse at any second. Cold water was immediately being splashed up on his face as he slumped his body forward against the sink, burying his face in his wet palms so he could let out a collection of anguished sobs.

His mind was spinning like a broken record, assuring him over and over again, Keith is wrong. Keith is wrong. Lotor knows best. Lotor knows best. Lotor loves me.

He knew what was right for him; he had to. He didn't think Keith was a liar, not when it came to caring about him, anyways. He'd experienced being with Keith first hand...and he couldn't just forget all that. But Lotor reminded him that only he really knew Lance...if Keith got to know Lance more, he would eventually become disgusted with him, just like everyone else. Only Lotor could deal with him. Only Lotor could love him. Only Lotor could see him for who he was and still somehow want him.

As he splashed more cold water onto his face, he could just imagine the feeling of the water from when he and Lotor were running around at the beach, laughing and dancing with each other. Lotor loved him. Lotor loved him. And he loved Lotor.

His heart began steadying enough for him to catch a few stable breaths, and he staggered to get paper towels for his face. He focused religiously on his memories of him and Lotor at the beach, specifically replaying scenes of them splashing at each other in the water. Everything past that was blocked out of his head for obvious reasons.

By the time he left the bathroom, he was feeling much more sure of himself and sure of Lotor again, and even though his knees were still pretty weak, he was at least able to walk without stumbling too much.

Strangely enough, the first face he saw upon exiting the bathroom was Coran's. The mustached bartender was just standing around casually, almost as if he'd been waiting for something. As soon as he saw Lance, he waved and took four giant steps towards him.

"Well hello, Lance! Hope you're doing alright! You didn't look so hot rushing into the bathroom like that."

Lance's cheeks flushed a bit as he looked back at the bathroom.

"Oh, uh...no! I mean, yes, I'm fine!"

Coran raised an eyebrow, leaning forward like he was looking at Lance through a magnifying glass. "Are you sure? I could get you a drink if you'd like, freshen up a bit! It'd be on me!"

"Oh, no!" Lance exclaimed, quickly raising his arms up to decline. "Really, I'm alright!"

Coran inspected him more before straightening his back, coughing casually. "Well, if you say so. Anyways, I guess Lotor is back, hm? That's some news nobody can avoid."

Lance rubbed his wrist sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah..."

"So," Coran twiddled with the end of his mustache like he tended to do. "How are things with Keith now that Lotor's around?"

His attention immediately snapped back up to Coran, eyes wide as he scanned their surroundings like they were in a minefield. "We...we shouldn't talk about that...! And besides, I'm with Lotor, so...yeah..."

He fidgeted nervously as Coran rose an eyebrow. "I see that. But is that okay? After all-"

"That's enough."

Lance jumped out of his skin as Lotor's voice cut off the conversation, appearing out of seemingly nowhere to stand at Lance's side, and he was quick to lean towards Lotor for support—not just from this situation, but from everything from earlier, too.

"Leave us," Lotor commanded, holding his hand up in dismissal. He was the boss now, so naturally, Coran could only shut his mouth and back away. Lotor wasn't the type of person he would want to disobey, anyways.

As soon as they were alone, Lance jumped into Lotor's arms and kissed him, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to squeeze out all other thoughts currently occupying his mind. Keith, Coran, and everything else needed to go; Lotor was the only one he needed to be thinking about.

"Someone was eager to see daddy again," Lotor mused, running his hand through the back of Lance's hair. "Are you ready for our performance? It'll be just like last night; daddy will fuck you in front of everyone just the way you like it."

Lance nuzzled his forehead into Lotor's chest, sighing when he felt arms close around his back. "Yes, daddy, I'm ready."

Lotor made a purring noise, pressing his lips to the top of Lance's head in approval and making him radiate with joy. "Good boy. You're always ready, aren't you? Good boy...but, first things first..." He pulled Lance away from him so they could look at each other, hand sliding to cup his cheek. "...who was that customer you were speaking to earlier?"

The air around Lance suddenly turned to lead, weighing down on him and suffocating him as he stared into Lotor's gleaming eyes in horror. His breath was catching in his throat all over again, and he felt so stupid because of course, Lotor had warned him that he had men watching him at every second, and yet he had still gone and fucked up.

Despite his shaking, Lance managed to swallow down his whimpers, able to find his voice only thanks to his fear of punishment. "That...that was just a customer."

Lotor's thumb traced its way down Lance's cheek, swiping across his bottom lip, but it wasn't enticing in any way; it was threatening.

"A customer, hm. But you didn't even dance for him."

Lance froze up immediately, doing everything in his power to will back his tears, because if his eyes started to water then he would be screwed.

"You get one more chance to answer me," Lotor whispered, leaning forward so he was breathing down Lance's ear, causing him to shiver.

Lance was terrified, not just for himself, but for Keith as well. He knew what Lotor was willing to do to people who spoke to him...he would hurt them, and Lance didn't want Keith to get hurt. His brain was spinning like a top to the point where it almost ached, trying to find a way to salvage the situation.

"Did he disrespect you? Is that why you didn't dance for him? Because if he did, I can have this man hunted down and taken care of. He'll never come near you a-"

"No!" Lance shrieked, muscles tensing in panic. He knew he'd just messed up, but he was desperate and didn't know what else to do as Lotor rose an eyebrow.

No matter what, he couldn't tell the truth. If Lotor found out that Lance had been with Keith while he was away, there was no way he wouldn't go after Keith. The mere thought of withholding information from Lotor was outrageous to him...but he had no other choice.

"He...he was a friend. That's all. He was a friend, and so...it was awkward for me to dance for him."

Lance bit his lower lip, eyes dropping the floor. He knew that that alibi was flawed; if Keith was his friend, and if it was truly awkward, why did he have Lance on his lap in the first place? It made no sense, and he didn't know how he was going to get out of this grave that he'd just buried for himself and Ke-

"Alright."

He looked up in shock. Of all the ways he'd expected Lotor to retaliate, he hadn't expected him to accept Lance's excuse so easily. He was smiling and running his thumb back and forth against Lance's cheek without a hint of malice, and honestly, that just scared Lance even more...but at the same time, he wanted to believe in Lotor.

"R-really?" Lance stuttered, blinking away his fear in place of hope.

Lotor chuckled and kissed his forehead. "Of course. If you say that's all it was, then that's all. You aren't planning on finding him again...are you?"

"No!" Lance was quick to answer again, clinging to Lotor. "No, of course not! I only need you, daddy..."

He buried his face in Lotor's chest again, earning him a scratch against his head.

"I know. Good boy. But it took you too long to answer..." Lotor was whispering in his ear again, slipping the back of his fingers down his neck. "As punishment, I'm gonna have to be pretty rough with you on stage while we perform, but you understand. Don't you, daddy's boy?"

Lance shied away a bit, but was quick to lean into Lotor's hand as he shushed him soothingly. He was right—Lance had taken a long time to answer, so he did deserve the punishment. So long as it wasn't the cellar, he was okay with it. And besides, he much preferred Lotor taking things out on him than taking it out on Keith. He couldn't let Keith get hurt because of him. Keith shouldn't have to be involved with him anymore.

"I understand, daddy."

Lotor lightly smacked his cheek approvingly. "Good boy. Come, it's about time for us to perform."

Lance beamed and snuggled himself against Lotor's arm, resting his head against him and letting him lead him towards the stage.

"Oh, also," Lotor stopped suddenly, "that eccentric bartender from before, he was putting bad thoughts into your head, wasn't he?"

Lance blinked in confusion. "Coran? We were...just talking a-"

"No worries." Lotor cut him off, kissing his lips to quiet him. "I'm his boss now, and I'll have him taken care of. You'll never have to see him again."

Shock practically froze Lance in place, and he was only able to keep walking due to Lotor pulling him along. It quickly faded though, and he could only lean his head into Lotor, heart aching as if it had a terribly large crack running through it.

Coran had been there since Lance first started working at the Web, and now he was getting fired just for talking to him...it seemed so extreme, but he understood why Lotor did it. It was because he loved Lance so much, and he didn't want other people hurting him. He understood. Even so, he felt bad, because it was his fault Coran was getting punished like this...

He couldn't say anything about it, though. He just squeezed Lotor's arm tighter and hung his head in a silent apology for Coran—and a silent prayer that nobody else would try talking to him, lest they too end up punished by Lotor.

***

Their performance on stage was one of the more brutal things Lance had experienced in the last year—from a physical standpoint, anyways. Last night, Lotor had spanked Lance quite a bit on stage, but at least he had had Lance give him a blowjob before fucking him. This time around, Lotor pulled Lance on stage and went straight to entering him raw, holding nothing back. There was no mercy for Lance, no tenderness.

Obviously it was his fault, so it wasn't like he could feel sorry for himself or anything. He'd messed up by letting Lotor's men catch him talking to Keith, and then he'd taken too long to answer Lotor's questions, so of course he deserved the punishment...but that didn't mean he could stop himself from crying out in pain each time Lotor's cock tore into him.

It was less a 'performance' and more a 'demonstration' of what Lotor was willing to do to Lance, even in front of a crowd of people. The morality wasn't too questionable, though, since they were in the Web. The audience cheered each time Lance screamed and cried.

There were many times throughout the session where he thought he could just pass out, and between the pulling of his hair and the abuse of his rear, he almost wanted to. He knew that was impossible, though—Lotor would never forgive him if he blacked out while he was fucking him, and his body was trained enough to handle the roughest of treatment, even if it had been a year since he'd experienced this level of physical pain. That said, his body was growing increasingly more numb, which helped dull the pain a bit for the time being.

Lance received little to no pleasure throughout the entire thing, but thanks to practice, he was able to cum on command, giving the audience yet another close-up shot as Lotor dragged him by his hair.

"That's a good boy. That's daddy's little boy." Lotor praised, scooping him up in his arms and walking off stage with his limp form in his arms.

He didn't have the strength or spirit to move, so Lance just leaned against Lotor's chest, sighing and letting his eyes flutter. All he could focus on was the soreness pulsating from the very core of his muscles, and somehow, he found himself thinking back to Keith's words: People don't hit the ones they love.

"Here, sweetie. You wait here." Lotor set him down backstage, cupping his cheek lovingly. "Daddy has to go take care of some stuff, I need to speak with the DJ. Wait here for daddy to come back." He kissed Lance's forehead before walking away, with Lance staring after him from behind.

...maybe people didn't hit the ones they love, but this was different. He had deserved what Lotor did to him; he always did. Lotor was only trying to teach him lessons. Right. That's why Lotor did the things he did to Lance—because he had to. Everything Keith said was invalid, because he didn't know what Lance deserved the same way Lotor did. Only Lotor knew him.

He sighed, hugging himself and rocking back and forth on the bench as he waited for Lotor to return. He was going to just rest his head on his knees and sleep until Lotor came back for him, but from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his old clothes.

That's right—last night, Lotor just took Lance home right after their surprise performance. They'd left his clothes at the club, and apparently they were still there.

As he scooted closer to look over his clothes, body aching in harsh protest upon being forced to move, he saw his phone on a nearby table and quickly snatched it, as if out of reflex. Right; he'd left this behind, too.

He hesitantly turned it on and scrolled through his notifications, face collapsing as he saw all the missed calls from Pidge, Hunk, and...Keith.

In addition to that, there were even more text messages waiting for him from those three as well, with many of the recent ones asking him if he was okay. His heart throbbed as he looked through all of the messages, knowing he was just torturing himself since he could never be allowed to answer or look at past conversations ever again.

He clutched his phone to his chest, letting out sighs of resignation, when suddenly, his phone buzzed.

"Wha?" He gasped and pulled back to see a text from Keith—sent just now.

Keith: Lance, please answer me.

He bit his lower lip, having not expected a text now of all times. He certainly hadn't expected one from Keith; not after he ran out on him the way he had earlier. This was bad. Keith needed to stop trying to associate with him already, or else it would only be bad for both of them...

Lance looked around cautiously multiple times, heart beating out of his chest and making him tremble with anxiety, before he turned back to his phone, swallowing to try and convince himself to do this.

Lance: Keith...I told you not to talk to me anymore.

Keith: Lance, please, are you okay?

Keith: I saw you on stage. It looked bad...

Keith: Please tell me you're okay.

Lance was taken aback as he stared at his phone. Keith had responded immediately in a chain of rapid fire succession, but the thing that had him most surprised was that the first thing Keith asked was if he was okay. He had expected some reference to their conversation from earlier.

If there was any time to try and convince Keith to stay away, it was now.

Lance: I'm okay. Please don't talk to me anymore.

Keith: Lance, please listen to me. Lotor isn't who you think he is...he's bad, and he's hurting you.

There it was. He was back to accusing Lotor.

Lance: Keith...that's enough. We're done.

He was tempted to end the conversation there: block Keith and force them to go their separate ways. In fact, he was very sure that was exactly what he should've done—but he didn't. He waited for Keith to reply. Even when he took slightly longer than before, giving Lance plenty of time to end things, he continued waiting.

Keith: I don't know what he's saying to you, but you don't deserve to get hurt. No one does.

Lance: You don't know anything about me.

Keith: Then tell me. I want to know. I want to be here for you.

Lance furrowed his eyebrows pointedly at his phone even though it was just a screen.

Lance: Just stop. I have Lotor, okay?

Keith: Lance...Lotor isn't who you think he is, he's straight up abusing you and publicly shaming you! How is that okay?

Lance: You don't understand, Lotor makes me happy.

He wasn't sure when he had gotten so defensive, but his sore muscles were suddenly tensing up despite the ache as he held his phone close to his face. He was completely unprepared for the next message, though.

Keith: Didn't I make you happy?

Images of racing, shopping, eating out, and more racing flashed through Lance's head all within the span of three seconds, his heart picking up pace in that familiar adrenaline rush that he got whenever he remembered what it was like flying in Keith's car.

Suddenly, Lance's fingers trembled and struggled to type words as he involuntarily read Keith's text over and over again.

He was cut off before he could even finish his reply.

Keith: Did you not care about the time we spent together?

Lance was stunned, eyes falling to the floor as he curled into himself.

Keith: Were you just using me until Lotor came back?

He found himself shaking his head to no one in particular, eyes threatening to let more tears join the stained ones on his face from the performance with Lotor.

He hadn't just been using Keith; it was nothing like that, not even close. When he was with Keith, he felt like a car speeding down an empty road—free and able to speed past all the problems that followed him. He showed Lance what it was like to not have to rely on his body to define him.

Keith had shown Lance so much...but that life wasn't meant for him. It had been nice while it lasted, but that wasn't him—this was. It was just as Lotor said; going an entire year without him had lead Lance astray into believing he could lead a different life, but true happiness for him was right here with Lotor, because Lotor understood him. The only reason his life with Keith had been nice was because Keith didn't know him the way Lotor did. It would've eventually fell apart.

Lance: It wasn't like that Keith...it never was. But only Lotor can love me. I belong to him.

Keith: Lance, I'm begging you...I don't want to see you hurt anymore.

Keith: Lotor treats you like a ragdoll on stage, in front of a bunch of eyes. He's just trying to possess you like an object.

Keith: Does that sound like love?

Frustration twisted in Lance's stomach, but he wasn't sure if it was out of genuine anger...or fear.

Lance: We can't talk anymore, Keith. Lotor will be mad. He already punished me because we were talking earlier. You're only getting me into more trouble. You can help by going away.

Somehow, just texting those words were like nails in Lance's heart, but he knew there was no other option.

Keith, however, responded with a fury, and Lance could basically feel the heat burning through his screen.

Keith: What the fuck?!

Keith: He got mad just because you talked to me?! Does he even know me?

Lance: No, I can't talk to people, please just leave me alone now, okay?

Lance was quick to correct Keith, frowning. He needed to make sure Keith agreed to stop meddling, for both their sakes...unfortunately, though, Keith only resurged with a vengeance.

Keith: WHAT?! You mean he gets mad when you just talk to people in general?!

Keith: Lance please, this is beyond messed up, do you think what he's doing is okay? Don't you miss your friends? Are you allowed to talk to them?

He bit his lower lip at that, mind flashing to Pidge and Hunk and how they had just been starting to become more than just distractions to him. He did sort of miss them...they'd been around in his life for quite some time, and only recently did he begin to feel included...but Lotor made it clear that life wasn't for him, so that was that...right?

Lance: I do miss them...

He found his fingers moving before he could even think his actions through.

Lance: If Lotor says I can't talk, though, then I can't.

Keith: How does that make sense?! How is that okay?!

Keith: Lance, please, that isn't how love works. You know it too, don't you?

Every atom in Lance's body was shaking as he reread Keith's messages at least a thousand times. He was definitely no longer thinking before texting; all he had to go off of were the many confused emotions swimming inside him and whispering in his head.

Lance: I don't know...

Lance: I'm not sure anymore...

"I see you moved a little bit, despite me telling you not to."

Lotor's voice snapped Lance's attention up away from his phone, where Lotor was walking towards him, eyes already glued onto Lance and everything he was doing.

Never before had he felt as much panic as he did in that moment, and he desperately tried to text Keith and stuff his phone away at the same time. As a result, he was only able to send a message that read 'Lotor' before awkwardly cramming his phone in between his thighs, begging to any god, saint, or angel out there that he hadn't been caught. Obviously, things never went his way.

"Don't put it away, baby." Lotor was right in front of him now, fingers caressing the side of his head. "Don't put it away."

If Lance had been shaking before, now he was a trembling mess, whimpering and instinctively leaning away from Lotor's touch—a flight reaction. Despite his fear, or perhaps because of it, he slowly lifted his phone out from between his legs, clutching it to his lap for Lotor to see more clearly.

"...who were you talking to?"

The tears that had been growing from earlier were now falling for entirely different reasons as Lance melted beneath Lotor's stare like ice caught on a sunny day, avoiding eye contact at all cost. He couldn't afford trying to lie and he couldn't afford keeping Lotor waiting for answers.

"It was...just a friend."

Lotor leaned forward more, holding his hand out. "Let me see."

He immediately tried hiding the phone between his thighs again. "I-it was nothing important...I-I won't do it again, I promise."

He looked up desperately only to be met with Lotor's unsympathetic eyes. He wasn't asking for the phone; his hand was demanding it.

Lance wanted to break down right then and there. He could already see Lotor dragging him towards the cellar, beating him and reminding him why he couldn't talk to people...but maybe, just maybe, he could be spared if he cooperated.

He wasn't expecting any mercy for his crime, but he slowly and shakily extended his phone, gasping weakly when it was snatched by Lotor.

He didn't dare look up as Lotor scrolled through his texts silently, and the tension in the air was already enough to weigh down on Lance, torturing his sore body.

Lotor's thumb moved quickly, sending a text of his own before he confiscated the phone in his pocket. He then towered over Lance so that his shadow covered his meek form, arm raised, winding up to strike him.

Lance was quick to bury his face in his arms, sobbing and whimpering and pleading for mercy, chants of 'I'm sorry' leaving him over and over again as he prepared for the initial beating...

...only, instead of the pain of Lotor's fist, he felt the gentle caress of his fingers through his hair.

Lance was equally relieved as he was confused, continuing to hide away in his arms as Lotor sat on the bench next to him, whispering soft shushing noises as his long arms wrapped around Lance's bundled, crying form.

"Shh...baby...baby, it's okay."

Lance instinctively flinched away from Lotor's touch, just waiting for the sudden turnaround of pain. Even as Lotor hugged his head to his chest, he refused to look up from his arms, crying and biting at his lower lip. He knew what was coming; it had to be.

"Quiet now...it's okay, you're okay, baby, daddy's not mad...don't be scared...shhh..."

Lotor's words and tone of voice offered a bit of a cushion for Lance's spiralling fear, but what really got him to bury his face into Lotor was the soft and gentle kisses against his head.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...! Please daddy, I'm so sorry, I don't want to go in the cellar!" He clawed at Lotor's shirt frantically, shaking his head into his chest and staining the fabric with tears.

"Come here." Lotor lifted Lance onto his lap completely, enveloping him in his warm arms and rocking back and forth. "Shhh...I told you, it's okay, daddy's not mad. Daddy forgives you."

Lance shook his head more, sobbing violently as his incoherent begging continued.

"Sweetie, look at me. Look at daddy." Lotor grabbed Lance's cheeks and forced him to look at him, tears overflowing down his face. "Sweetie, no one's going in the cellar, okay? Okay?" He shook Lance's face, refusing to let go of him until he got Lance to nod in understanding. "Good boy. Come here, sweetie."

He embraced him again, and even though Lance was listening to Lotor, that didn't mean he could just stop his crying. His nails dug into Lotor, leaving marks from how hard he was clinging, and they rocked back and forth as Lance tried to get his sobbing out, still seeing the cellar door in his mind.

"Do you...really forgive me for talking to somebody...?" He sniffled, forehead pressed firmly to Lotor's chest.

"Shhh...of course I forgive you, baby. Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you way too much not to forgive you. Everybody makes mistakes, baby, it's okay. As long as you don't do it behind my back again, okay?"

It took only a moment for his words to sink in before Lance was tasting his own tears, smile spreading wide across his face.

"I was so scared...oh god...daddy, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again I promise..." He was still very much shivering from his fear, but he was slowly restabilizing as he realized that Lotor did in fact love him. Lotor loved him so, so much, and he couldn't believe he had been listening to Keith just minutes earlier.

He began giggling softly as Lotor pet him, still making hushed sounds to quiet Lance's occasional hiccups.

"No talking behind my back, okay baby? Because then I can't make sure you're being treated right. You have to ask me before you interact with someone, because they might be bad for you. They might try to tell you bad things, and I need to protect you, baby." He caressed Lance's cheek with what was surely all the love in the world. "You can interact with people if you want, you just need to ask first and I'll let you. I just want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy. I know I haven't been a perfect daddy, so I need you to tell me when you need something and how I can be better."

Lance shook his head adamantly, throwing his arms around Lotor's neck and snuggling close. "No, you're perfect, daddy! You're perfect the way you are and I love you!"

Lotor made a purring sound from deep in his throat, rubbing Lance's back as they cuddled on the bench.

After a few moments of really mulling over Lotor's words, Lance slowly looked up at his daddy, swallowing and trying to be brave since that's what Lotor wanted him to do. He wanted him to talk to him more.

"Um...daddy..." He rubbed his own wrist while leaning into Lotor's chest. "I...I do want to talk...to other people. I want to be able to interact with other people...only if you say yes though!" He looked up at Lotor in alarm, heart pounding against his chest only for his apprehension to be quelled by Lotor's warm smile.

"Okay, sweetie," he said without hesitation, nuzzling their foreheads together. "You can interact with anybody I approve of."

Butterflies of incomparable sizes were fluttering in Lance's stomach as Lotor stood up, carrying Lance bridal style and giving him one more kiss on the nose. Lance was hardly able to focus on anything though, too starstruck by the fact that Lotor was willing to change for him.

They were sitting back in the limo before he knew it, with his body snuggled up against Lotor on his lap like usual.

"Are we going home now?" He asked, sleepily rubbing his head against his daddy.

"No, not quite. You see, daddy wants to show you more about his life now, baby...daddy wants you to be a part of every piece of his life. And, daddy has friends for you to interact with, just like you wanted."

Lance beamed up at Lotor, immediately losing all sense of fatigue.

"Really? You really mean it, daddy?!"

A nod was all he needed before he was practically squealing with joy and excitement. This was it. This was proof that Lotor for sure loved Lance. Previously, things used to always be about them being together, and Lance never really got to know much about Lotor outside of their relationship...but now, Lotor wanted to bring Lance into other aspects of his life, and even more than that, he was willing to introduce Lance to some friends.

Lance was positive things couldn't get any better than this as he nestled himself into his lover, eagerly awaiting what the rest of the night had in store for him.

***~Keith~***

Lance: Lotor

Keith stared at that text for a good while, a million things all clashing together in his head at once. Had Lance accidentally hit the send button early? Was he still typing his text? Should Keith respond? Had something happened?

He waited for a good few seconds, but ultimately had to play it safe—especially after having witnessed that brutal and disgusting performance, not to mention all the information he was receiving on Lance and Lotor's relationship. His distress was shooting through the roof.

Keith: Lance, are you there?

Keith: Lance, answer me, is everything okay?

Keith: Lance!

He looked around at the crowded club for something that could possibly help him, but he just felt so useless as he stared at his phone screen. He'd just been getting through to Lance, he couldn't just stop answering like that—

Lance: After tonight, Lance will be gone, don't worry. But still...I'd watch my back if I were you.

He stared at that message.

He reread it.

He reread it again.

After the fourth time, the situation sunk into him. Lotor. Lotor was threatening him, trying to scare him away. But yet...there was something strange about his wording.

After tonight, Lance will be gone. Just replaying those words in his head made Keith's heart thump against his chest, adrenaline taking control over his breathing.

Lotor hadn't just threatened Keith with that text. He had threatened Lance, too.

Keith was immediately racing out of the Web towards his car. He didn't know how well he could drive given how much his hands were shaking, but he could worry about his own safety later. Lance was in danger—he could just feel it. Something was off, and he didn't know if he could wait even a second longer, much less until morning, to take action.

His car sped down the empty road towards Matt's house, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he prayed to any god, saint, or angel out there that Katie would have some sort of answer.

And as he accelerated with what he thought was an appropriate level of urgency, those haunting words from Lotor's text continued to echo in his mind, striking him with a level of pure terror that he had never before witnessed.

After tonight, Lance will be gone.

***

Awwwww, see? Lotor's so nice! He forgave him, he's changing, maybe he's not such a bad guy!

*Looks at my notes for next chapter*

..............oh. Well, uh, in other news...

DID YOU KNOW THE WEB OF SINS ACTUALLY EXISTS?

That's right! Go to my profile, and there, you'll find the url link! You can ask me questions regarding this fanfic or about anything in general, and I would love to interact with all of you! Furthermore, if you follow me, you'll get regular teasers for the next chapter of this fic! Be like Keith and check it out!