Keith tells the truth, makes a friend, and bleeds. Lotor falls hard. “Did you… Did you seduce the enemy?” Lance asks. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” Keith frowns. “I didn’t seduce him.” Silence descends and it’s one of those moments when he’s not in on the joke, because everyone is sharing looks. “I didn’t,” Keith repeats.

They think it will be funny to leave him with a Galra in heat. It whimpers. It's a sound of pure pain, one Shiro's heard a hundred times now in the arena. The sound of something wounded and helpless; the sound of something that knows it. "Are you hurt?" Shiro asks in the bare silence of the cell, and moves a few steps closer. The creature on the floor twitches violently at his voice. It's not dressed like the other prisoners. It's hard to tell in the poor lighting but the back of its skin-tight suit is glowing in circuits, the same purple he's come to associate with the Galra. "I won't hurt you," he says, softer. It doesn't make a sound but its back arches, head lifting from the floor, dragging black hair along the floor. It's dripping wet with blood or sweat. Shiro realizes the small sound he's barely been registering is breath—it's panting. It rolls, just enough to eye Shiro through its dark bangs. He. It's a boy, and he's beautiful.