“I’m gonna mess up the vows,” he said for the tenth time, pacing the length of the room.
“You know them by heart,” Keith insisted. “You’ll be fine. We’re gonna be right there with you.”
Shiro didn’t look too sure.
“At the end of the day, lad, you love him, and he loves you,” Coran said. “You’re gonna go home married to him when the day is out. Isn’t that what matters?”
Shiro smiled, still nervous, but his confidence was building. “Yeah, it is.”
“Then let’s walk you down that aisle,” Coran said cheerily.
“Great,” Keith said with a clap. “I’ll get everyone in position, before he gets nervous again.”
Shiro jabbed Keith playfully before the sound of people scurrying around was heard from outside the dressing room. The guests were seated, and Pidge was doing the last round of finishing touches.
Just then, Krolia peered her head through the doorway looking frantic.
“Coran! There you are!”
“Is something wrong, Mom?” Keith asked as he stepped aside for her.
“I just need Coran really quick,” Krolia said, pulling Kolivan into the room. “He’s the only person alive that can figure this out.”
“Apologies,” Kolivan said. “I haven’t worn dress robes in a very long time. I forgot—um, I’m not sure where this goes.” He held up a piece of fabric.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Coran smiled. As he took Kolivan in, he noticed that his outfit did look incomplete. Coran hadn’t laid eyes on a traditional Galran dress robe in a very long time, but he remembered them well from all the balls he attended in Daibazaal.
“Are we ready in here?” Pidge asked from the door, seeming to have just appeared there.
“I’ll be just a tick,” Coran said. “Shiro, go wait for me outside, I won’t be long.”
“Krolia, please follow me,” Pidge said, exiting as quickly as she came. Krolia raised an eyebrow at Keith.
“It’s better if you do as she says,” Keith said gravely. With that, the only people left in the dressing room were Coran and Kolivan.
“This would be your military marker,” Coran explained, taking the scarf from Kolivan’s hand. “It indicated your loyalty to the Daibazaal crown. It goes around your neck, under your collar.”
“But I’m not loyal to the crown,” Kolivan pulled his neck away from Coran’s hands.
“It stopped meaning that a long time ago. By the time Altea was wiped from the star system it was just a fashionable accessory. Young boys that were not in the military would wear them. Could you take off your coat? It’s easier to wrap around then.”
Kolivan shrugged off his coat just enough to ease access to his neck and stayed silent for a tick. “Funny thing. Youth.” He vaguely gestured around them.
Coran nodded, concentrating on the knot of the scarf. “I remember being young and in love and all of that. It’s a sweet, silly thing.”
“That it is,” Kolivan had a small smile on his lips, his eyes were far away. It made Coran curious to know what he was remembering. With a light tone he added, “It’s also stupid.”
A surprised laugh escaped Coran. Kolivan’s smile grew wider. “Yes, it is,” Coran chuckled, fixing Kolivan’s collar. “You’re all set.”
Kolivan shrugged his coat back on. “Thank you, Coranic.”
“N-no problem,” Coran stuttered, flustered and confused by the name. Kolivan took a bow and exited the dressing room.
1st extension | 5th extension
Check out the Worlds Apart series for a look at Lance and Keith’s story!
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For the ship ask meme... I know how you feel about Lotura ;) so some other Voltron shops I like... Punk? Kolivan/Coran? Kolivan/Coran/Krolia? Shiran? Coranwich II: the Holts?
Oh boy! To save ppl’s dashes I’ll put all but the first one behind a cut. :) edit: idk why the cut isn’t working; I’ve done it like three times, sorry ;_;
Happy Valentine’s Day @meythecat ! You were my giftee for the @alteasvalentinesexchange . I hope AUs are your thing, because when seeing the ships you wished for, I couldn’t unsee teachers Kolivan and Coran and Coran taking care of a cold having Kolivan. So here a bit of ill h/c.
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1720
Pairing: Kolivan / Coran
Kolivan might be ill.
As he sits in his office with an almost empty tissue box on his table and a hill of used tissues in the bin, he is in the process of admitting that he might be ill. That a cold might have him in its grasp. A cold.
Kolivan snorts and reaches for the next essay on the top of the neat pile. As if that would stop him. He has no fever, he is clearly not dying, he can power through this and finish grading the essays.
Except his head is spinning as if he is rolling around the room and he should figure out what to do after his two last tissues are gone. Because they will be soon.
Something tickles inside his nose and he grabs a tissue just in time before he sneezes. With half closed eyes and a vein pulsing on his forehead with pain and annoyance, Kolivan stares at the last tissue hanging out of the box. Last one and he feels like he is counting minutes before this one will be gone too.
A knock on the door startles him and breaks his impromptu staring contest with the tissue. His eyes flick to the wall clock and then to his planner. Today are not his office hours and there is also no appointment scheduled. Normally the only person who dares to come along unannounced…
Kolivan watched the door open and a mop of red hair peek inside.
Coran.
The last person he needs right now.
“Hello dearest.” Coran waltzes in like this is his living room and he had just walked in from the kitchen. “I was just passing by and thought I might see how you are doing with the essays.”
Kolivan rubs at his forehead before he forces on a smile. He hopes he doesn’t look to snotty.
“It’s going well.”
A ‘I’m half done’ dances on his tongue, but he and Coran have been together long enough for Coran to know his habits in and out. The right pile is the finished one and it’s the smaller one, so there is no fooling Coran.
“What about a lunch together, it might…” Coran leans down to press a greeting kiss on Kolivan’s lips, who is hard pressed not to lean back – that would be too suspicious. But his hope that Coran won’t notice something is off dissipates into thin air when his partner’s eyes go wide after the kiss, and after his cheek rubbed against Kolivan’s.
“Oh cricket!”
A chilly palm is slapped onto Kolivan’s forehead and against his better judgement, he closes his eyes and leans into it.
“You are like a bloody furnace. You should be in bed right now.”
“I’m fine, Coran. It’s just a bit of runny nose.” Kolivan tries to convince him, but when he opens his eyes and sees the look Coran is giving him, squinting at him like he had just caught a child stealing a lollipop from his store, Kolivan knows he is doomed. Well, he did knew that since the moment the door opened, if he is completely honest, but he was still hoping.
“Nonsense.” Coran grabs the essay Kolivan had just opened, and puts it back on the left pile. “This can wait. Right now you need to go back home and lie down. No discussion.” Coran cuts Kolivan off, when he opens his mouth, so he only lets out some air in a wheezing sigh.
“I can still… finish…”
There goes his last tissue, as Coran grabs it and presses it against Kolivan’s face before he can sneeze all over his student’s essays.
“You were saying, dearest?” Coran’s voice is dripping with thick-liquid sarcasm right into his ear as Kolivan blows his nose.
This is the worst. His next lesson in this subject for this class isn’t until next week, so he has plenty of time to finish grading the essays, but he wanted to be ahead of time because there is always too much to do and too little time. And now he will be out of commission for the rest of today, because no way is Coran letting him out of the bed earlier than tomorrow. Given he looks well enough then, of course. God damn. And he might also… Kolivan shudders when he remembers.
“We will go back home now and I will make you my grand-grand uncle’s secret recipe soup. It’s the best remedy one can wish for a cold.”
There it is. And no chance to run away, with Coran already holding Kolivan’s coat in his hands. Cursed be this cold.
Kolivan feels his nose running again, but all he can do is pull it back, because he has no more tissues left.
=
“Are you warm enough, dearest?”
There isn’t much but the tip of Kolivan’s nose peeking out of the blankets Coran had piled on him. When Coran started to gather these together after they came home, Kolivan pressed his lips into a thin line. Such amount was unnecessary. Aside from the runny nose and a slight head pounding, he was feeling fine.
But now, dressed in a tank top, a t-shirt and a hoodie, he is happy he has a pile to bury himself under. Because he is still feeling cold, his body wrecked by one shiver after another. That is definitely not warm enough.
Fingers curled into the layers of blankets, Kolivan pulls them tighter around his chin, sealing all of his body heat underneath.
“Tea…” he whispers, barely avoiding biting into his tongue. “Tea would help.” He forces out with difficulties, looking up when he feels a palm on his forehead.
Coran’s eyes are concerned.
“I’ll go and make you something much better than tea. And then you will take a long, healing nap. You will be feeling all better in an instant, then!” Coran’s smile is meant to be encouraging, but it just grinds in how pathetic Kolivan feels.
His body is sweating, but he is still cold and his eyelids are so, so heavy. Again and again they flutter close, but are pried open by some unseen force right after as Kolivan seems not to be able to keep them closed. He resigns and keeps staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Coran busying around in the kitchen that spill into the bedroom.
The rooms are right across each other, but the sounds are muted, like they are fighting their way through a thick curtain. Kolivan wishes the curtain was real, made out of a thick, warm fabric and he could wrap it around himself atop of all these blankets.
He doesn’t notice when his body starts to buzz, but when realizes it does, he can’t unfeel it anymore. It’s like his body wants to crawl out of its own skin. It forces him to toss and turn when he wants to stay still, because every movement makes him feel colder.
Kolivan misses Coran’s footsteps as he returns and startles when he sees him standing right next to the bed.
“Shhh, it’s just me.”
Fingers stroke messy hair loosened from his braid from his forehead.
“Tired,” Kolivan mumbles, his lips dry and cracking. How did his state got so bad so quickly?
“Just do me a little favor, alright? Drink this small cup all empty and then you can sleep all you want. You will feel plenty better after you wake up.”
Needles dig into his back when Coran nudges him to sit up. Kolivan is sure he is leaning against him more than he should, but Coran doesn’t say even one word, just lifts the cup up to Kolivan’s lips. A faint whiff of lemon and garlic hits him and he is suddenly happy his nose is clogged up, otherwise the scent might have knocked him unconscious right here and now. The liquid burns down his throat and for the span of one second, Kolivan wonders if it’s because it’s hot or because of something else. Then he closes his eyes and just swallows, one large gulp after another until the cup really is empty.
“There, see. That wasn’t so bad, right?”
A nod is the only answer he can muster enough energy for before he slides back under the blankets, curling together in search of warmth.
His eyes fall closed and this time his lids stay down. It still takes him a while before he falls asleep. The only thing he is aware of before he drifts off are the shudders of his body and the cooling palm on his cheek, with the thumb slowly stroking over his cheekbone.
=
The first thing Kolivan notices when he wakes up is the dark. The second thing he notices is the absence of the shivering and the cold; his body temperature seems to be evened out again.
The third thing he notices is the sliver of light under the door. He has no clue how late it is, if it’s still afternoon, evening or night, but either way Coran has to be still up. With careful, slow steps he slips into the hallway.
“Coran?” Kolivan finds him in the living room, curled in his favorite chair. With a blanket tucked around his legs (they still had any blankets left? How?), with a book in his fingers and with his reading glasses on. He looks up when Kolivan enters, a smile spreading over his lips.
“Kolivan. I see you are feeling better.”
“Plenty better.” Kolivan uses his exact words and smiles back. “Seems like your magical remedy helped.”
“Of course, it always does. You shouldn’t be up yet, though. The remedy is not as magical as to cure you completely with just a few gulps, after all.”
“And I was sure I could get dressed and head to finish grading those essays already.” Kolivan leans down to press a short kiss on Coran’s lips, who accepts it before patting Kolivan’s arm.
“Hardly. It’s almost one in the morning. What you should do instead is head back to bed.”
“That seems like a good idea. But I think with someone at my side instead of in this chair would help me sleep better and get well faster.” His fingers sneak down to pick the book out of Coran’s hands.
For ship and number: 7 for Coran/Kolivan(if you’re okay with this ship)))
I’m okay with basically all ships! tho I apologize because I have literally never written either of these two
7 - a kiss to shut them up
“The princess is still resting and the other paladins will be in the pods for another varga,” Coran lists, tugging on the end of his mustache. “Only Shiro is awake, and the Black Lion took the brunt of the attack. If any of their forces return, we’ll be completely defenseless – ” A broad hand settles on his shoulder and, with a gentle force, turns him around. Before he can finish his sentence, a second hand cups his jaw and warm lips are pressed to his. His eyes shoot wide in surprise but only for a moment. He reaches his hand up to curve over Kolivan’s cheek and closes his eyes. It’s a brief kiss, chaste, but it reroutes Coran’s thoughts from his earlier panic. When they separate, Kolivan rests his forehead against Coran’s and keeps his hands where they’re framing Coran’s face. Together, it serves as a sort of blinders, keeping Coran’s focus on Kolivan’s steady gold eyes instead of the empty control room around them. “If they return, the Blade will protect you,” he says, low and even. “You cannot serve your team if you are distracted by potentialities. Breathe.” Coran exhales a little laugh and leans into his partner. Kolivan shifts so that his hands rest on his hips, overlapping in the back. He uses the new grip to pull Coran closer to his chest, and Coran resituates as well. Like this, he can hear the steady thump of Kolivan’s heart and feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath. “No matter what happens,” Kolivan says, “you do not face this alone.”
In further consideration of Coran/Kolivan, can I just say that Coran thinks Kolivan is the hottest thing alive? Those thighs, that handsome countenance, those shoulders...Kolivan could probably bend over in front of him and that would be all it took to knock Coran out.
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Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe had loved many things throughout his life. He had loved singing, he had loved being of service to his kingdom, his King…oh, how he had loved his King. He liked to say that there were no secrets between him and King Alfor, but Coran’s affections never saw the light of day beyond his loyalty and guidance.
Coran had lost Alfor twice. The first time was on his wedding day, when he married the woman he’d been promised to. The second time was the last day he would ever see Alfor alive again. He listened with rapt attention the orders he was to execute: make sure Allura is safe, make sure the Castle of Lions is ready, make sure something, anything survived. Coran had followed through, heart heavy, dutifully shifting his devotion from his king to the King’s daughter.
Of all the people Coran had loved, Allura was the one closest to his heart. She grew to be like a daughter to him, and she saw him like a second father. Allura was his last piece of home and he, hers. She was his drive, his hope for a better universe, his light…
And then, she was gone.
It’s finally here! I’m super excited to bring you the first glance into Stay a Little Longer! This is a story about Coran. How he mourned and began to heal, how in that healing he found love, and the obstacles he faces to finally be happy.
This overlaps with part of the season 8 finale and establishes a different chronology for the events that take place in the epilogue. We get to see old friends and new and even a peak into Shiro and Curtis’ wedding.
This idea originally spawned from the series Worlds Apart, but can work as a stand-alone.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Coran/Kolivan (Voltron)
Characters: Coran (Voltron), Kolivan (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Kythylian Mu
Additional Tags: Male Bonding, Drunk Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Porn Is the Plot, Alien Biology, Alteans are Magical Creatures, Power Bottom Coran, Dream Daddy in Space
Summary:
Being the only grown-up on a ship (or base) full of youngsters can be trying at times. Coran and Kolivan decide to take some adult time, and get to know each other better.
Now that @lionswap authors have been revealed, I can share this with y’all... :v