[ oh. oh so they're definitively back to throwing things at each other, huh? keith laughs, managing to dodge the volley of pants and shorts with a well timed hop to the side, but stiletto heels being what they are, keith wobbles on the landing and twists around with another hop to keep himself from losing his balance completely.
too bad this means both socks hit him smack dab on the ass cheeks before bouncing off harmlessly. feeling sheepish once again, keith clears his throat, keith entertains the thought of tossing shiro's socks right back at him until he realizes that would entail bending over. faltering visibly, keith awkwardly swings himself back around to face shiro head on and tries not to look down at himself. ]
Because it's the best color. And it looks good on me.
[ at some point, the novelty of seeing keith’s ass will wear off. at some point, shiro will be able to receive a glimpse of two perfectly round ass cheeks and not almost swallow his tongue. today, they are not at that point. shiro makes a soft noise in his throat, part choking and part protesting, although a good portion of him does not, in fact, protest to any of this. he’s seen keith’s bare ass a few times now and oddly enough, the twin strips of fabric make this more obscene. he thinks, maybe, this is on par with keith stripped naked and bent over his bed. the underwear accentuates the curves and the size, giving each cheek a lift that makes them look plumper than he remembers.
and shiro remembers, frequently and in detail, especially when he’s alone in his cot, staring at the ceiling.
here, he doesn’t stare at the ceiling and he’s trying to convince himself to. instead, he drinks in the eyeful for as long as he’s able, up until the moment keith twists back around. shiro, remembering himself, lifts his gaze, though it’s slow with a dazed sort of quality. it takes him another moment, but he gets there eventually: keith is putting himself down.
sort of.
at the very least, he’s downplaying any affect he has here and shiro is tempted, as he always is, to revert back to the safety of their preestablished boundaries. don’t acknowledge the attraction, don’t spell it out for keith, don’t try – where has that gotten him these past weeks?
he draws in a breath and releases it slow, finding a softened smile as his lungs empty. he’s going to do this. he’s going to try. he wants to. ]
You look good, Keith.
[ he holds keith’s gaze and then deliberately lets it trail down, sweeping slow and approvingly from eyes to chest to hips to thighs. ]
The outfit is… what it is, but… [ and right back up the same way to find keith’s eyes. ] You’re hot. [ and just to be sure it’s spelled out enough for keith to understand: ] I think you’re hot.
[ for better or for worse, the admission makes keith burst into incredulous laughter. how could it not? there are times keith's thought maybe he could pass for looking cool. usually that involved having a sword in his hand and a space wolf at his side. wearing a white tank top, a red jock strap and thigh highs is the most awkward he's ever felt wearing clothes and this? this of all things is what prompts shiro to tell him he's hot?
keith laughs and laughs, clutching his stomach and wheezing for air with the widest grin on his face when he thinks he can finally hold eye contact without laughing all over again. ]
Sorry -- [ he's quick to clarify between little gasps for air. he coughs, then smiles so hard his cheeks ache. ] Heh. It's not you, it's just -- I feel really ridiculous.
[ maybe his sense of self awareness is broken considering he'll wear a midriff jacket and go go boots without so much as registering what's wrong with the outfit. keith sucks down a deep breath then lets it out with another laugh, softer this time and accompanied by a distinctly mischievous glint as giddiness dusts his cheeks pink. ]
Heh. So that's what you like? The scantily clad look?
[ … okay. shiro’s got the softest, sweetest spot for a happy keith. it’s a side that doesn’t come out nearly as often as it should and so, shiro’s weak for the wide grins and the peels of laughter that aren’t at all self-conscious. he wants keith to be this delighted, always… just, maybe not when it’s directed at shiro finally mustering up the courage to put words to his attraction. shiro’s rusty, he gets that, but he didn’t know his flirting was that bad…
is hot not a hip word to use anymore? it’s been awhile since he’s been on the market or on earth, for that matter, so…
does he sound old-timery?
the laughed through explanation helps clear some of that up, however, it does little to reverse that silly, awkward feeling of putting himself out there. he knows keith means nothing cruel by it, at least. still, keith gets that mischievous look and shiro, stubborn and embarrassed, huffs as he scoots back on the bed, drawing his legs up onto it. ]
No, you lost your privileges to honesty hour. I’m not telling you anything.
[ it’s not a lost cause though. he does crack a smile. the feeling enduring, but some teasing infiltrating his voice nonetheless. ]
[ uh oh. shiro is retracting, both physically and rhetorically. as always, keith registers his faux pas late, but this time rather than giving shiro space and another apology, keith feels a little emboldened. maybe being called "hot" even while wearing a terrible outfit really does do miracles or maybe it's just the teasing atmosphere who can really say?
one way or another, as shiro shuffles back onto the bed, keith follows, hands pressing down on the mattress on either side of shiro's hips, caging slightly as he leans in, mere inches between their faces. he's still grinning hard, clearly having given zero thought to the fact that his asscheeks are as bare as ever and easily looked at down the line of his back. ]
I want honesty hour back.
[ heart hammering in his chest, keith shaves another inch and bumps the tip of his nose to shiro's. ]
[ so keith’s not going to let shiro escape, huh? keith's good at that: giving chase when shiro wanders too far. shiro thinks he would have anticipated it better if keith’s modesty were intact. it’s not, however, and so, when keith bends over and sticks his hands to the bedding, shiro blinks wide, elongating his expression with raised brows and a slack mouth. his gaze darts over keith’s shoulder because curiosity is damning and the fuzzy glimpse of rounded ass cheeks in the background isn’t nearly enough to settle it. he gets one full beat of white fabric bunching at the small of keith’s back, that then gives to a thick band and the swell of a pretty ass, but then the beat passes and keith’s crowding in.
shiro’s breath stops. he goes still, both hands pressed to the bedding to steady his position, and it’s like that, partly leaned back, that shiro wanders off again. he goes lost. it’s okay though, because keith is right here to find him, with his nose brushing his and encompassing all of shiro’s world, filling all of his vision with his closeness.
he called him hot before, but shiro thinks now, it doesn’t do him justice. he’s gorgeous. with the framing of his hair, the color of his irises, the sharpness of his cheekbones, his chin, his nose. even the scar that tapers from jawline to his eye only enhances his face, showcasing the strength shiro knows keith packs away in his body, in his soul.
he’s beautiful, so: ]
It’s not the scantily clad look.
[ not entirely. shiro’s a human man in his prime, with working bits and a libido that isn’t quite dead, thanks, so of course seeing skin has him warming and thinking and feeling certain things. the jockstrap and thigh high boots though? it’s not that. ]
It’s just the… you look.
[ he smiles helplessly at the end of that. if he thought he lacked game before, now… – was that too cheesy? does it count as cheesy if it’s true? ]
[ being crowded into shiro's space is a double edged sword. sure, shiro can't hide from him when they're close together, but neither can keith. honestly, keith thinks he should be above any juvenile thrill from being told he's attractive. it's silly, through and through, to be putting any worth into something so superficial, isn't it? besides, if his appearance mattered all that much to him, keith would have cut his supposed eye-sore mullet ages ago.
he's twentyone, head of voltron and a member of the blade of marmora. hardened by war, loss and the heavy weight of making life or death calls that he tries not to overanalyze with hindsight. it's partly why being here, looking every bit like a victim of an intergalactic sex trafficking ring put up for ogling has punched right through the boundaries of keith's comfort zone.
but the thing is? here, in this moment, keith doesn't feel any of those things. not his usual festering resentment for his captors, not the background white noise of shame. instead, it's just shiro and him alone in his cube, together, his heart beating fast behind his sternum because someone amazing thinks he's desirable.
maybe that doesn't really mean a whole lot, considering this place is full of people shiro's presumably been fucking for credits, but keith is determined not to think anyone else. just them. a guy and his best friend. ]
The me look....
[ the mood had been teasing up until then, but keith doesn't manage to hold onto it. instead, his expression softens. grin easing into a moonier smile, keith murmurs: ]
I like the you-look, too.
[ and with that, he steals the sliver of space between the lips and seals it with a soft kiss. ]
[ so maybe shiro’s still got some game left in him. his eyelids slip close and he softens the press of his mouth, humming a quiet, approving sound. close-lipped and chaste, the kiss is similar to all those that have come before. he likes it though, slow and sweet like this. it’s a comfort in its own way, that despite how fast-paced and chaotic everything can become out there, with the whims of the prison, they can still take their time together.
tentative in affection and careful in execution, it’s their way. they’re doing it their way. and for the first time, it feels natural to lift a hand to keith’s face and cup a hand over his scar. to gently thumb at the seam of his lips to his cheek and then nudge his mouth closer, parting his own to give the faintest taste of wet heat as he tries for something deeper.
only a taste though, because this kiss is similar to those before, remember? and a commonality between them all is that they’re brief. he pulls back with a smile and a flutter of his lashes, his expression bewitched with heavy affection. ]
So.
[ he’s still got his hand on keith’s face, thumb skimming in a crescent moon shape over his cheek. he drops his hand soon enough and falls back on the comfort of teasing, both hands to the bedding to manually pull himself backwards to escape the cage of keith’s hands. ]
How about you finish taking those boots off and come lie down with me?
[ it takes an embarrassingly small amount of effort on shiro's part to make keith's heart skip beats. the part of his face that's scarred over is numb from having nerve endings burned away, so the patchwork sensation of fingers and palm on his face is strange, but not unwelcome. keith leans into the touch, angling for a light nuzzle while their lips stay pressed together.
he doesn't expect this to last long -- none of their kisses do. but he's bainted into thinking otherwise when shiro parts his lips and keith actually gasps, suddenly unsure of how to work tongues into this without being a sloppy mess.
in the end, he doesn't have to work it out. shiro pulls away, leaving keith caught feeling warm and disappointed. really, he shouldn't be disappointed at all because a hard on is difficult to hide with pants on. and fucking impossible to do so when all he's got on is a jock strap. keith clears his throat, taking a half step back and straightening up as shiro scoots further away. ]
Mm...
[ he sits, resisting the urge to lick his lips as he tugs the zipper down one of his boots. ]
Should probably change back into my normal boxers too.
[ the outfit truly is atrocious. shiro gets an eyeful of keith standing there, red jockstrap, white tank and black thigh highs, and then he gets a glimpse of skin. the boy turns to sit and of course shiro’s gaze zeroes in, but then the mattress dips and shiro breathes out a barely there laugh, part chastising himself as he shakes his head. ]
If that’ll make you more comfortable.
[ honestly, it would likely make shiro feel more comfortable too. he’s riding high on momentum right now: a few things have clicked into place and the relief is overwhelming, as well as the excitement. but he isn’t so foolish to think that it will continue to go this smoothly if there’s a lull, in which the two of them are curled close, keith nearly naked from the waist down.
it’s a lot. not bad a lot, but – a lot.
he picks up the pillow and plops it down, butted against the headboard. he stretches out then: head to the pillow and feet to the other end of the bed, flat on his back with his head turned toward keith. he reaches out a hand, having just enough reach to brush the tips of his fingers to keith’s back. ]
[ keith pulls the zipper all the way down and tugs off the first boot. he pauses then, when he feels fingers brush lightly against his back, looking over his shoulder at shiro stretched out and comfortable with a warm smile. ]
Heh, okay.
[ the agreement comes easily enough, but as keith turns his attention back to the other boot, he speaks up again, tone contemplative and quiet. ]
But so you know? I am comfortable here.
[ really, porn prison as a whole makes his skin crawl, but being around shiro and his cube is relaxing, so long as he doesn't think too much about the aftermath of his sexperiment. keith grimaces slightly, swallowing as he works the zipper down and frees his other foot. the socks come off next, keith continuing to talk throughout like words come easier when his hands and mind are partly occupied with something else. ]
...Not in these clothes specifically, but you know. Generally.
[ whether it's necessary to explain or not is hard to say, but keith wants this much clarified at least. ]
I don't know. It's weird. I don't mind you looking. [ a beat, then he shakes his head, folding, unfolding only to refold his socks. ] No, I mean -- I like how you look at me. A lot. I just... I guess I feel awkward in my own skin most of the time.
[ finally he drops the socks and laughs sheepishly. ]
I'm sorry if that made you think I wasn't comfortable with you.
Edited (:/ i tried to edit and then my icon reset to default somehow) 2022-07-18 05:43 (UTC)
[ shiro appreciates the over-clarification. as in sync as they are in other aspects of their friendship, they seem to suffer the biggest hurdle when it comes to communicating what it is they feel toward or want from each other. so much of it has been implied throughout the years that, perhaps, shiro’s taken it for granted that keith doesn’t intrinsically know how dear he is to him. or how, out of everyone shiro has left in his life, keith is the person shiro feels the most secure with. he’s been there the longest, afterall. he knew shiro before and after the most trying time in his life, and still, seems to know him, the real him, despite all the changes.
sometimes shiro wonders if this keith feels the same way. maybe he does for his shiro, because this shiro, the one stretched out and retracting his hand to lay over his stomach, hasn’t been there to the end. there is so much time between them; so much time that shiro has only the cliff-notes of and can’t be of any real use to help keith through.
he can, at the very least, help keith through this trying time though. so, silently, he listens and watches as keith fiddles with his socks. he can’t see much of it from his position, but he can see the motion of keith’s biceps, triceps, and the line of his shoulders as his hair brushes over his nape, through the shaking of his head. he frowns faintly, not finding comfort in the laughter or the apology. ]
You haven’t made me think that.
[ not exactly. there are isolated moments of doubt but overall: ]
You’ve done the opposite, actually. [ he has no control over how his mind drifts to keith drugged out on aphro. the way he’d pawed at shiro, the things he’d said… – shiro flicks his gaze back to the ceiling. then there’s the night keith urged him to sleep over and how they’d curled together, followed up by kisses and flirting and –
keith’s done his best to make the transition easy. the problem is with – ] I’m the one who’s been acting like I’m uncomfortable.
[ still, partly true. his frown deepens further, trying to work out the explanation in his head. ]
As stupid as it sounds, I think I’ve been like that because I care so much about you. [ ultimately, he sighs and rolls onto his side, arm slung out over the bedding beside him. the bedding that keith really ought to fill but shiro doesn’t urge for, beyond a brief patting of his fingers. he does smile though, the curve sheepish and apologetic all at once. ]
[ boots and socks off, keith gives his toes a wiggle as he listens, still glancing at shiro over his shoulder. honestly, he's relieved at first, but that gives way to a gentle confusion. it's true enough that physical affection between them has stayed relatively innocent when there aren't any outside influences at play, and keith did assume that it had to do with shiro being uncomfortable on some level. hearing that much confirmed is a strange mix of deflating and illuminating, but the explanation gives him something different to puzzle over.
it's kinda funny. at this point, keith isn't sure what shiro could even do to mess up their friendship so badly that they wouldn't recover. then again, this shiro hasn't (and won't) hear about murderous clones. keith turns his face forward after that, head ducked slightly. after all, with the destruction of the castle of lions and the rest of the fallout from lotor's death, it's not like keith's really gotten the chance to pick shiro's brain about the clone incident. he assumes that shiro forgives him for not realizing he'd been replaced, but ... if that's not a mess up of colossal proportion, then what is?
moreover, if this shiro knew the whole truth ... would he really want to be cuddling and kissing uncertain, keith idles, neither getting up to change nor sinking backwards onto the bed. ]
I don't think... [ he pauses, brow pinching as he shuffles up to his feet and looks towards the counter where he's left his boxers. ] ... I don't think you have to worry about htat. No matter what happens, we don't give up on each other, remember?
[ years ago, when shiro took keith under his wing and promised to never give up on him, he did not, for one second, think that one day that vow would be echoed back at him while his protégé stood there, bare assed and beautiful. when shiro thinks about it too long, it’s a little weird – but then again, what in his life isn’t categorized as weird at this point? beneath the weird though, there’s a ping of softhearted elation. it warms him to know that all this time later, that moment has stuck with keith; that he firmly believes it to be true. it is true of course. shiro will never abandon keith, whether their best friends or lovers or something in between. it’s the thought of keith being right there with him, steadfast and certain in the value they hold in one another, that has shiro ducking his face into the pillow, smiling soft and pleased, even a touch bashful, to himself. ]
Yeah. I remember.
[ forgive him, it’s partly muffled into the pillowcase. and forgive him, too, for not quite catching the dip in keith’s mood. keith’s expression is mostly hidden from him, though shiro does peek at his turned face, watching his profile as the other boy directs toward the counter.
he’s hesitating. they both are. shouldn’t keith have stepped away by now? gotten his boxers and covered up, rather than standing there, flashing shiro his ass? he’s tempted then, to scoot closer and drag keith into bed himself. maybe that’s what keith wants too…? maybe he’s waiting. maybe he’s giving shiro the opportunity.
shiro has nothing to worry about, right?
shiro’s fast when he wants to be and right now, he utilizes his speed by pushing up and crawling to the edge of the bed to then heft himself up on his knees and hook his arms around keith. ]
You don’t need ‘em.
[ the boxers. neither does shiro. he thought, maybe, he’d feel more comfortable with keith covered up, but he’s reconsidering that as he puts his weight into pulling keith down into the bedding with him. they don’t quite land correctly to have them situated correctly on the bed; they’ll need to arrange themselves properly. for the moment, however, shiro keeps his arms around keith, spooning him from behind. ]
[ being preoccupied with heavy questions has a way of slowing keith down. lingering by the bed for that extra beat trying to think of what else to say to a shiro who doesn't know what he knows proves to be one of the better inadvertent decisions he's made all day though. strong arms encircle his waist from behind and keith actually sputters a: ]
Hey!
[ before being hauled back onto the soft bed. he laughs despite not knowing how to articulate what's funny, but the sound tapers off as shiro brushes his bare ass from behind. face feeling hot, keith glances behind him. they're not properly aligned, so he gets a view of the top of shiro's head rather than his face, but maybe the lack of eye contact is better anyway? again, he couldn't say. ]
Sneak attacking me like that.
[ not at all honorable. clapping his hand down on shiro's shoulder, he gives it a playful shake as he starts to shift lower into the bed to catch shiro's eye. ]
[ keith could probably get away if he wanted to. no, not probably. shiro is certain keith could wriggle away, especially because shiro’s arms would slack if there were any genuine resistance. keith doesn’t try though, not even for show. for all his protesting and teasing, it’s made even more obvious that this is something keith is basking in, by his lack of squirming. his laughter too. gosh, it takes so very little to have shiro beaming. just the sound of his best friend happy and then shiro is right there with him, chuckling, even as keith’s tapers off.
with the way they’ve landed, keith’s ass is cushioned against shiro’s abdomen. it’s nice. it’s comfortable. it’s – easy to ignore. but nothing in shiro’s life remains easy and soon enough, keith is shimmying down, shaking shiro’s shoulder and subsequently, jostling shiro to almost have him rocking his crotch up into that descending ass.
okay. perhaps shiro didn’t think this through. perhaps the boxers really would have been the better plan.
he cranes his hips backwards, giving keith plenty of room as he keeps shifting lower. throughout, he keeps his arms around him and meets his backward glance, smiling wide despite the heavy thump-thump of his heart. ]
You left me no choice.
[ shiro may be shying in some places but he isn’t when he pushes his face in close, chin brushing over keith’s shoulder once they're level with each other. ]
I’ve been trying to coax you into this bed for twenty minutes now, but you – [ a huffed laughed. ] – are exceptionally stubborn.
[ they've shared a cot and cuddled before, but not while keith's asscheeks were just hanging out. try as he might, it's just not possible to outright ignore the feel of shiro's abs as he shuffles down the bed. the only saving grace keith has here is that nervousness is at least keeping his dick well behaved. he falters, heart skipping errant beats as shiro presses in close, but it doesn't escape his notice that the lean is very top heavy. looks like shiro's staying clear of his ass, huh? leith laughs, torn between amused and shy. ]
You bandit.
[ he twists, turning his face more towards shiro. the teasing is accompanied by a ruffling of floof. ]
Don't drag me into your bed and act like it was my fault. Hehh. And all this time, you were the one going on about patience yields focus.
[ shiro sputters. he can’t decide between laughing and making an affronted sound to the floof attack, so he ends up doing both and – yeah, sputtering right in keith’s turned face. when he manages to stop doing that, he settles on the laughing part and laughs through a: ]
I was being patient!
[ throwing his favorite line in his face, that’s such a cheapshot, keith. that deserves a bit of punishment, which shiro will be handing out in the form of him tightening the lock of his arms and curling his body tighter, blanketing it fully along keith's, tucking him into shiro’s chest, abdomen, hips, thighs in the world’s comfiest, human cage. so much for keeping his hips back. ]
Doesn’t matter now, anyway. You’re here and you’re not thinking about leaving.
[ right? keith should be careful how he answers, because fingers curl underneath the hem of his tank top, ready to pinch. ]
[ the floof attack is glorious and keith is swept up in his own laughter simply because shiro is laughing as well. he isn't any less conscious of the realignemnt of shiro's body against his comparatively bare one though, and soon enough he feels that nervous flutter in his stomach again.
provoking shiro with teasing never goes without retaliation, and maybe this is just going to lead down a familiar path of mutual joy: wrestling. but keith can't help squirming slightly, pinching his thighs closed at the thought of his dick slipping out of the strip of fabric holding everything in.
a little pinker around the cheeks, keith nonetheless puts up a tiny show of reistance by wriggling an arm free to wrap fingers around shiro's wrist. ]
[ and this is where there’s a bump in the road. shiro slams right into it and for a time, that easy camaraderie derails into shiro looking a little surprised, a little speechless, brain going static. ]
I…
[ – didn’t mean it like that? – would never do that again? – want to go back to pretending that never happened?
his body goes rigid in the indecisiveness for one beat, two beat, three. he’s carried quite a bit of guilt for that whole thing. the subsequent talks he’s had with keith have helped alleviate some of that feeling, but when it comes down to it, they’ve barely talked about it. not about shiro fishing out the cuffs. not about tricking keith into them. and definitely not about letting keith grind against him until he soiled his own pants. the instinctual response is to shy away, stay the course and keep things light, flirty, but restrained.
… but keith’s plastered against him, held tight and barely faking the effort of a fight. his senses are filled with him: the smell of him, the feel of him, the look of him flush pink, the… taste of him…?
not anymore. shiro’s gaze drops down, brief and fleeting, to keith’s mouth and then right back up, blurting out a: ]
I still have those cuffs. [ he blinks, not quite relaxing yet, but still following that line of thought. ] They worked pretty good last time. [ a beat, a slight easing of that surprised, slightly cagey look. ] Made you behave…
[ another beat and finally, a smile that’s tentatively teasing. ]
[ there's a reason neither have them have bucked orthodoxy by bringing up that incident in any detail. keith remembers that reason the instant shiro goes rigid and awkward around him. flustering in turn, keith goes shy and ducks his chin.
honestly, he's not even sure what prompted the commentary in the first place. they'd been teasing each other and the handcuffs had been topical. but of course, the handcuffs are inextricably tied to ... the rest of keith's behavior that day. swallowing, keith presses his thighs tighter still.
part of him wants to ask why shiro even has a pair of handcuffs, but the answer seems obvious enough considering the paraphernalia activities has handed off to him as well. tragically, however, what keith ends up blurting is much much worse. ]
Do you uh... get a lot of people to behave like that?
[ so. to recap. shiro has keith in his bed. his bed that he specifically bought in order to get keith into it. in this very specifically purchased bed, the two of them are pressed tight together, minimal clothing involved. throughout this, they have been flirting and touching and hoping…
and now keith is asking about shiro’s sex life.
the smile wilts at shiro’s lips and his eyes go wider with surprise? confusion? mortification? perhaps a combination, with him leaning heavily into the confusion, because – what? ]
No…? [ he doesn’t know how to process the idea that keith thinks he might be a regular with the fuzzy-handcuff, kinky sex. ]
[ and once again, keith wishes he hadn't said anything at all. the lurch of iertia is almost physically painful as keith rounds his shoulders and turns his face away. ]
I didn't mean anything bad.. [ then, aborting the sentence mid-thought, keith winces and mutters: ] ... Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking.
[ except maybe he was? because it's porn prison and shiro's been more adamant than any of the other paladins about completing sentences. deflating a little further, keith releases shiro's wrist. ]
[ ah. keith may have thrown shiro a curveball by bringing mention of other people into this bed, but shiro certainly butchered his delivery of an answer. shiro hates it when keith goes small and closed off, especially when he knows he’s the cause of that confidence loss.
they’re still wrapped up in each other, so keith letting go of his wrist and turning his face forward shouldn’t feel like a separation, but one, two, shiro’s breath locks up and he gives chase by craning toward keith, face ducking into one of those hunched shoulders, arms squeezing tight. ]
You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine.
[ fine; god, that sounds fake. he huffs into keith’s shoulder and tilts his face up, nose dragging and mouth bumping, briefly, against both skin and strap before he hooks his chin there. he exhales, sighing a soft sound, voice kind. ]
[ frankly, "it's fine" does a poor job of reassuring keith of much, but the tightening of shiro's arms around him and further crowding into his space are both far more xonvinxing. at the very least, shiro isn't retreating and with keith's next exhale, the tension leaves his shoulders and he turns just enough to brush shiro's face cheek to cheek. ]
Do you...
[ want to? but the question dies in keith's mouth. does keith really want to talk about toji right now? this time, he flicks just his gaze away to look at the pillow. should he even really be caring about shiro's lovers?
a little hesitantly, keith places his hand ontop of shiro's. the touch is light, experimental and then he lets his hand flop onto the sheets. ]
... never mind. I don't know what I want. I want this.
no subject
too bad this means both socks hit him smack dab on the ass cheeks before bouncing off harmlessly. feeling sheepish once again, keith clears his throat, keith entertains the thought of tossing shiro's socks right back at him until he realizes that would entail bending over. faltering visibly, keith awkwardly swings himself back around to face shiro head on and tries not to look down at himself. ]
Because it's the best color. And it looks good on me.
[ ... wait. his brow pinches. ]
Uh... not this though.
no subject
and shiro remembers, frequently and in detail, especially when he’s alone in his cot, staring at the ceiling.
here, he doesn’t stare at the ceiling and he’s trying to convince himself to. instead, he drinks in the eyeful for as long as he’s able, up until the moment keith twists back around. shiro, remembering himself, lifts his gaze, though it’s slow with a dazed sort of quality. it takes him another moment, but he gets there eventually: keith is putting himself down.
sort of.
at the very least, he’s downplaying any affect he has here and shiro is tempted, as he always is, to revert back to the safety of their preestablished boundaries. don’t acknowledge the attraction, don’t spell it out for keith, don’t try – where has that gotten him these past weeks?
he draws in a breath and releases it slow, finding a softened smile as his lungs empty. he’s going to do this. he’s going to try. he wants to. ]
You look good, Keith.
[ he holds keith’s gaze and then deliberately lets it trail down, sweeping slow and approvingly from eyes to chest to hips to thighs. ]
The outfit is… what it is, but… [ and right back up the same way to find keith’s eyes. ] You’re hot. [ and just to be sure it’s spelled out enough for keith to understand: ] I think you’re hot.
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keith laughs and laughs, clutching his stomach and wheezing for air with the widest grin on his face when he thinks he can finally hold eye contact without laughing all over again. ]
Sorry -- [ he's quick to clarify between little gasps for air. he coughs, then smiles so hard his cheeks ache. ] Heh. It's not you, it's just -- I feel really ridiculous.
[ maybe his sense of self awareness is broken considering he'll wear a midriff jacket and go go boots without so much as registering what's wrong with the outfit. keith sucks down a deep breath then lets it out with another laugh, softer this time and accompanied by a distinctly mischievous glint as giddiness dusts his cheeks pink. ]
Heh. So that's what you like? The scantily clad look?
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is hot not a hip word to use anymore? it’s been awhile since he’s been on the market or on earth, for that matter, so…
does he sound old-timery?
the laughed through explanation helps clear some of that up, however, it does little to reverse that silly, awkward feeling of putting himself out there. he knows keith means nothing cruel by it, at least. still, keith gets that mischievous look and shiro, stubborn and embarrassed, huffs as he scoots back on the bed, drawing his legs up onto it. ]
No, you lost your privileges to honesty hour. I’m not telling you anything.
[ it’s not a lost cause though. he does crack a smile. the feeling enduring, but some teasing infiltrating his voice nonetheless. ]
You laughed at me, you goon.
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one way or another, as shiro shuffles back onto the bed, keith follows, hands pressing down on the mattress on either side of shiro's hips, caging slightly as he leans in, mere inches between their faces. he's still grinning hard, clearly having given zero thought to the fact that his asscheeks are as bare as ever and easily looked at down the line of his back. ]
I want honesty hour back.
[ heart hammering in his chest, keith shaves another inch and bumps the tip of his nose to shiro's. ]
Please?
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shiro’s breath stops. he goes still, both hands pressed to the bedding to steady his position, and it’s like that, partly leaned back, that shiro wanders off again. he goes lost. it’s okay though, because keith is right here to find him, with his nose brushing his and encompassing all of shiro’s world, filling all of his vision with his closeness.
he called him hot before, but shiro thinks now, it doesn’t do him justice. he’s gorgeous. with the framing of his hair, the color of his irises, the sharpness of his cheekbones, his chin, his nose. even the scar that tapers from jawline to his eye only enhances his face, showcasing the strength shiro knows keith packs away in his body, in his soul.
he’s beautiful, so: ]
It’s not the scantily clad look.
[ not entirely. shiro’s a human man in his prime, with working bits and a libido that isn’t quite dead, thanks, so of course seeing skin has him warming and thinking and feeling certain things. the jockstrap and thigh high boots though? it’s not that. ]
It’s just the… you look.
[ he smiles helplessly at the end of that. if he thought he lacked game before, now… – was that too cheesy? does it count as cheesy if it’s true? ]
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he's twentyone, head of voltron and a member of the blade of marmora. hardened by war, loss and the heavy weight of making life or death calls that he tries not to overanalyze with hindsight. it's partly why being here, looking every bit like a victim of an intergalactic sex trafficking ring put up for ogling has punched right through the boundaries of keith's comfort zone.
but the thing is? here, in this moment, keith doesn't feel any of those things. not his usual festering resentment for his captors, not the background white noise of shame. instead, it's just shiro and him alone in his cube, together, his heart beating fast behind his sternum because someone amazing thinks he's desirable.
maybe that doesn't really mean a whole lot, considering this place is full of people shiro's presumably been fucking for credits, but keith is determined not to think anyone else. just them. a guy and his best friend. ]
The me look....
[ the mood had been teasing up until then, but keith doesn't manage to hold onto it. instead, his expression softens. grin easing into a moonier smile, keith murmurs: ]
I like the you-look, too.
[ and with that, he steals the sliver of space between the lips and seals it with a soft kiss. ]
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tentative in affection and careful in execution, it’s their way. they’re doing it their way. and for the first time, it feels natural to lift a hand to keith’s face and cup a hand over his scar. to gently thumb at the seam of his lips to his cheek and then nudge his mouth closer, parting his own to give the faintest taste of wet heat as he tries for something deeper.
only a taste though, because this kiss is similar to those before, remember? and a commonality between them all is that they’re brief. he pulls back with a smile and a flutter of his lashes, his expression bewitched with heavy affection. ]
So.
[ he’s still got his hand on keith’s face, thumb skimming in a crescent moon shape over his cheek. he drops his hand soon enough and falls back on the comfort of teasing, both hands to the bedding to manually pull himself backwards to escape the cage of keith’s hands. ]
How about you finish taking those boots off and come lie down with me?
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he doesn't expect this to last long -- none of their kisses do. but he's bainted into thinking otherwise when shiro parts his lips and keith actually gasps, suddenly unsure of how to work tongues into this without being a sloppy mess.
in the end, he doesn't have to work it out. shiro pulls away, leaving keith caught feeling warm and disappointed. really, he shouldn't be disappointed at all because a hard on is difficult to hide with pants on. and fucking impossible to do so when all he's got on is a jock strap. keith clears his throat, taking a half step back and straightening up as shiro scoots further away. ]
Mm...
[ he sits, resisting the urge to lick his lips as he tugs the zipper down one of his boots. ]
Should probably change back into my normal boxers too.
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If that’ll make you more comfortable.
[ honestly, it would likely make shiro feel more comfortable too. he’s riding high on momentum right now: a few things have clicked into place and the relief is overwhelming, as well as the excitement. but he isn’t so foolish to think that it will continue to go this smoothly if there’s a lull, in which the two of them are curled close, keith nearly naked from the waist down.
it’s a lot. not bad a lot, but – a lot.
he picks up the pillow and plops it down, butted against the headboard. he stretches out then: head to the pillow and feet to the other end of the bed, flat on his back with his head turned toward keith. he reaches out a hand, having just enough reach to brush the tips of his fingers to keith’s back. ]
I want you to feel comfortable here.
[ with him. ]
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Heh, okay.
[ the agreement comes easily enough, but as keith turns his attention back to the other boot, he speaks up again, tone contemplative and quiet. ]
But so you know? I am comfortable here.
[ really, porn prison as a whole makes his skin crawl, but being around shiro and his cube is relaxing, so long as he doesn't think too much about the aftermath of his sexperiment. keith grimaces slightly, swallowing as he works the zipper down and frees his other foot. the socks come off next, keith continuing to talk throughout like words come easier when his hands and mind are partly occupied with something else. ]
...Not in these clothes specifically, but you know. Generally.
[ whether it's necessary to explain or not is hard to say, but keith wants this much clarified at least. ]
I don't know. It's weird. I don't mind you looking. [ a beat, then he shakes his head, folding, unfolding only to refold his socks. ] No, I mean -- I like how you look at me. A lot. I just... I guess I feel awkward in my own skin most of the time.
[ finally he drops the socks and laughs sheepishly. ]
I'm sorry if that made you think I wasn't comfortable with you.
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sometimes shiro wonders if this keith feels the same way. maybe he does for his shiro, because this shiro, the one stretched out and retracting his hand to lay over his stomach, hasn’t been there to the end. there is so much time between them; so much time that shiro has only the cliff-notes of and can’t be of any real use to help keith through.
he can, at the very least, help keith through this trying time though. so, silently, he listens and watches as keith fiddles with his socks. he can’t see much of it from his position, but he can see the motion of keith’s biceps, triceps, and the line of his shoulders as his hair brushes over his nape, through the shaking of his head. he frowns faintly, not finding comfort in the laughter or the apology. ]
You haven’t made me think that.
[ not exactly. there are isolated moments of doubt but overall: ]
You’ve done the opposite, actually. [ he has no control over how his mind drifts to keith drugged out on aphro. the way he’d pawed at shiro, the things he’d said… – shiro flicks his gaze back to the ceiling. then there’s the night keith urged him to sleep over and how they’d curled together, followed up by kisses and flirting and –
keith’s done his best to make the transition easy. the problem is with – ] I’m the one who’s been acting like I’m uncomfortable.
[ still, partly true. his frown deepens further, trying to work out the explanation in his head. ]
As stupid as it sounds, I think I’ve been like that because I care so much about you. [ ultimately, he sighs and rolls onto his side, arm slung out over the bedding beside him. the bedding that keith really ought to fill but shiro doesn’t urge for, beyond a brief patting of his fingers. he does smile though, the curve sheepish and apologetic all at once. ]
I don’t wanna mess up with you.
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it's kinda funny. at this point, keith isn't sure what shiro could even do to mess up their friendship so badly that they wouldn't recover. then again, this shiro hasn't (and won't) hear about murderous clones. keith turns his face forward after that, head ducked slightly. after all, with the destruction of the castle of lions and the rest of the fallout from lotor's death, it's not like keith's really gotten the chance to pick shiro's brain about the clone incident. he assumes that shiro forgives him for not realizing he'd been replaced, but ... if that's not a mess up of colossal proportion, then what is?
moreover, if this shiro knew the whole truth ... would he really want to be cuddling and kissing uncertain, keith idles, neither getting up to change nor sinking backwards onto the bed. ]
I don't think... [ he pauses, brow pinching as he shuffles up to his feet and looks towards the counter where he's left his boxers. ] ... I don't think you have to worry about htat. No matter what happens, we don't give up on each other, remember?
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Yeah. I remember.
[ forgive him, it’s partly muffled into the pillowcase. and forgive him, too, for not quite catching the dip in keith’s mood. keith’s expression is mostly hidden from him, though shiro does peek at his turned face, watching his profile as the other boy directs toward the counter.
he’s hesitating. they both are. shouldn’t keith have stepped away by now? gotten his boxers and covered up, rather than standing there, flashing shiro his ass? he’s tempted then, to scoot closer and drag keith into bed himself. maybe that’s what keith wants too…? maybe he’s waiting. maybe he’s giving shiro the opportunity.
shiro has nothing to worry about, right?
shiro’s fast when he wants to be and right now, he utilizes his speed by pushing up and crawling to the edge of the bed to then heft himself up on his knees and hook his arms around keith. ]
You don’t need ‘em.
[ the boxers. neither does shiro. he thought, maybe, he’d feel more comfortable with keith covered up, but he’s reconsidering that as he puts his weight into pulling keith down into the bedding with him. they don’t quite land correctly to have them situated correctly on the bed; they’ll need to arrange themselves properly. for the moment, however, shiro keeps his arms around keith, spooning him from behind. ]
There we go. Much better.
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Hey!
[ before being hauled back onto the soft bed. he laughs despite not knowing how to articulate what's funny, but the sound tapers off as shiro brushes his bare ass from behind. face feeling hot, keith glances behind him. they're not properly aligned, so he gets a view of the top of shiro's head rather than his face, but maybe the lack of eye contact is better anyway? again, he couldn't say. ]
Sneak attacking me like that.
[ not at all honorable. clapping his hand down on shiro's shoulder, he gives it a playful shake as he starts to shift lower into the bed to catch shiro's eye. ]
That's not very paladin like.
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with the way they’ve landed, keith’s ass is cushioned against shiro’s abdomen. it’s nice. it’s comfortable. it’s – easy to ignore. but nothing in shiro’s life remains easy and soon enough, keith is shimmying down, shaking shiro’s shoulder and subsequently, jostling shiro to almost have him rocking his crotch up into that descending ass.
okay. perhaps shiro didn’t think this through. perhaps the boxers really would have been the better plan.
he cranes his hips backwards, giving keith plenty of room as he keeps shifting lower. throughout, he keeps his arms around him and meets his backward glance, smiling wide despite the heavy thump-thump of his heart. ]
You left me no choice.
[ shiro may be shying in some places but he isn’t when he pushes his face in close, chin brushing over keith’s shoulder once they're level with each other. ]
I’ve been trying to coax you into this bed for twenty minutes now, but you – [ a huffed laughed. ] – are exceptionally stubborn.
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You bandit.
[ he twists, turning his face more towards shiro. the teasing is accompanied by a ruffling of floof. ]
Don't drag me into your bed and act like it was my fault. Hehh. And all this time, you were the one going on about patience yields focus.
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I was being patient!
[ throwing his favorite line in his face, that’s such a cheapshot, keith. that deserves a bit of punishment, which shiro will be handing out in the form of him tightening the lock of his arms and curling his body tighter, blanketing it fully along keith's, tucking him into shiro’s chest, abdomen, hips, thighs in the world’s comfiest, human cage. so much for keeping his hips back. ]
Doesn’t matter now, anyway. You’re here and you’re not thinking about leaving.
[ right? keith should be careful how he answers, because fingers curl underneath the hem of his tank top, ready to pinch. ]
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provoking shiro with teasing never goes without retaliation, and maybe this is just going to lead down a familiar path of mutual joy: wrestling. but keith can't help squirming slightly, pinching his thighs closed at the thought of his dick slipping out of the strip of fabric holding everything in.
a little pinker around the cheeks, keith nonetheless puts up a tiny show of reistance by wriggling an arm free to wrap fingers around shiro's wrist. ]
Is that your way of threatening to cuff me again?
[ is that tease flying too close to the sun? ]
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I…
[ – didn’t mean it like that?
– would never do that again?
– want to go back to pretending that never happened?
his body goes rigid in the indecisiveness for one beat, two beat, three. he’s carried quite a bit of guilt for that whole thing. the subsequent talks he’s had with keith have helped alleviate some of that feeling, but when it comes down to it, they’ve barely talked about it. not about shiro fishing out the cuffs. not about tricking keith into them. and definitely not about letting keith grind against him until he soiled his own pants. the instinctual response is to shy away, stay the course and keep things light, flirty, but restrained.
… but keith’s plastered against him, held tight and barely faking the effort of a fight. his senses are filled with him: the smell of him, the feel of him, the look of him flush pink, the… taste of him…?
not anymore. shiro’s gaze drops down, brief and fleeting, to keith’s mouth and then right back up, blurting out a: ]
I still have those cuffs. [ he blinks, not quite relaxing yet, but still following that line of thought. ] They worked pretty good last time. [ a beat, a slight easing of that surprised, slightly cagey look. ] Made you behave…
[ another beat and finally, a smile that’s tentatively teasing. ]
… Kinda.
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honestly, he's not even sure what prompted the commentary in the first place. they'd been teasing each other and the handcuffs had been topical. but of course, the handcuffs are inextricably tied to ... the rest of keith's behavior that day. swallowing, keith presses his thighs tighter still.
part of him wants to ask why shiro even has a pair of handcuffs, but the answer seems obvious enough considering the paraphernalia activities has handed off to him as well. tragically, however, what keith ends up blurting is much much worse. ]
Do you uh... get a lot of people to behave like that?
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and now keith is asking about shiro’s sex life.
the smile wilts at shiro’s lips and his eyes go wider with surprise? confusion? mortification? perhaps a combination, with him leaning heavily into the confusion, because – what? ]
No…? [ he doesn’t know how to process the idea that keith thinks he might be a regular with the fuzzy-handcuff, kinky sex. ]
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I didn't mean anything bad.. [ then, aborting the sentence mid-thought, keith winces and mutters: ] ... Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking.
[ except maybe he was? because it's porn prison and shiro's been more adamant than any of the other paladins about completing sentences. deflating a little further, keith releases shiro's wrist. ]
.... I don't know where I'm going with this.
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they’re still wrapped up in each other, so keith letting go of his wrist and turning his face forward shouldn’t feel like a separation, but one, two, shiro’s breath locks up and he gives chase by craning toward keith, face ducking into one of those hunched shoulders, arms squeezing tight. ]
You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine.
[ fine; god, that sounds fake. he huffs into keith’s shoulder and tilts his face up, nose dragging and mouth bumping, briefly, against both skin and strap before he hooks his chin there. he exhales, sighing a soft sound, voice kind. ]
It’s… good to talk about these sorts of things.
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Do you...
[ want to? but the question dies in keith's mouth. does keith really want to talk about toji right now? this time, he flicks just his gaze away to look at the pillow. should he even really be caring about shiro's lovers?
a little hesitantly, keith places his hand ontop of shiro's. the touch is light, experimental and then he lets his hand flop onto the sheets. ]
... never mind. I don't know what I want. I want this.
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