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[earthshine]

« Shiro »
[ TEXT + AUDIO + VIDEO + ACTION ]

Hi, this is Shiro.
Sorry I'm unavailable at the moment,
but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

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i love how they just keep yelling each other's name

[earthshine]

[ it’s a nightmare. no, not a. it’s one of his nightmares. most often, he’s caught up in a hellish sequence of poking, prodding, and experimentation gone wrong, but he does sit in the audience of the arena sometimes, looking down on matches he once fought through, but never consciously remembers. in those few seconds after he’s awoken, shaking and disorientated, he remembers the violence of watching himself kill something or someone else. in those moments before his mind forgets and the dream is altogether lost, he’s struck shamed and afraid, to the point that he feels he may become sick from it. this is so much worse. not just from the pain and terror of having weight bearing down on him, fists pummeling at him, but it’s the shape of those fists, the specific build of that body, the set of that jawline and those eyes. toe to toe with the champion, this is what it was like; this is what he once was.

– almost.

as champion, he’d been far more efficient. had to be. by now, the arm would have activated and neutralized the opponent. i would be dead, he thinks with a detached sort of confusion, mind still sluggish from both the onslaught of emotion and physical attack. he gasps, reeling, trying to get his bearings, still pinned under the weight on his back. the most he manages is getting his hands up, shielding his head. faintly, he recognizes the lack of force to his other self’s right hand. it isn’t weighty and solid as metal should be; it doesn’t crush his skull.

move.
fight back.

there’s a voice in his head screaming at him, commanding him to do something. and he’s gaining, he’s pulling himself together, he’s fueling on renewed purpose, adrenaline filling in all the gaps –

shiro!

that does it. that’s the last push he needs. foregoing his defensive huddle, he slams his metal hand to the floor and then leverages off of it with a strength enhanced push. pitching his body, he bucks the weight off of him and further knocks it off with a rearing back of his metal arm, slamming the elbow into the wicked thing. champion, creature, whatever it is, goes rolling off and then shiro is scrambling after it.

neutralize the threat.
kill it.
kill it.

he’s beyond the steadiness needed to dial back the violence. learned survival tactics keep him moving, until he’s the one pinning the altered image of himself to the metal grating. together, between the two of them, there isn’t much humanity left; the shiro with yellow eyes is screeching and clawing, whereas the real shiro does just as he’s been conditioned to do. he activates his arm and runs in through the base of the thing’s neck. through his neck? it’s odd, watching oneself die. no irises and no pupils, but shiro sees the moment the life snuffs out of those eyes. just before that? the thing gurgles, blood bubbling up from its mouth. it doesn't from it's throat. it's cauterized; burned through skin and vessels, his hand leaves behind a gaping hole that's more sickening from its charred lines than a wet spill of blood would be.

he feels something – remorse? no. pity? no. sick. yes. fear. yes. still. the corpse loses his familiar shape and becomes something else entirely, but shiro is already in motion, not even bothering to wipe his hand clean as he works on getting his feet underneath himself to move. ]

Keith!

lol in some au, they were each others first word.

[marmoron]

[ having left team voltron before lotor ingratiated himself with the princess and the others, there's little familiarity keith has with the former emperor's fighting. he'd briefly watched the ranged skirmish between lotor and sendak at the kral zera, but beyond the basic knowledge that the man prefers to fight with a sword, keith has no intel on what his hand-to-hand combat skills are.

and even if he did? who's to say the quintessence poisoning hadn't simply eroded his mind to the point of becoming a brainwashed brute like zarkon before him? the questions exist at the periphery of keith's thoughts, but never coalesce into proper suspicion over the nature of what precisely he's even fighting.

there's not much room to think about anything at all, really. hands still wrung tight around his neck, keith gets his chin pushed up and if the situation weren't fucking dire, it might've had some disturbingly intimate undertones. teeth rake along the underside of his jaw and renewed horror over the impending possibility of getting his throat ripped out makes keith thrash.

letting go of his bayard is counterintuitive, but with the sword practically useless to him at such close range, keith tries to grab for the knife handle at his back.

but something happens. there's clattering and slamming going on close by and while keith hasn't fully tuned that out because shiro is a part of that skirmish, keith had mentally put that on pause. reality, of course, keeps on chugging.

for no discernable reason, lotor lets out a rattling shriek, releasing keith's throat and falling off to the side where he curls into the fetal position. eyes round and uncomprehending, keith takes the opportunity to sit up and grab his knife, chest heaving as he watches lotor twitch and spasm, his form twisting and shifting into something wholly unrecognizable before going completely still. ]

Whuh...[ the question is barely out of his mouth before keith decides that's not important. he swivels, unsteadily getting to his feet to answer his name with: ]

Shiro!

[ heart in his throat, keith pauses mid-crouch as he locks eyes with his best friend rising froing from the ground where another unrecognizable mass lies broken at his feet. despite everything, relief floods his system as keith looks his best friend over for an y sign of injuries and finds none. ]

You're okay....

[ it's stated almost in a daze, keith's expression turning soft despite the fact that that this situation could flip at any second should more of these things show up. ]

I-I think you saved me somehow. Thank you.

... AU where they're baby neighbors who grew up together. ttly normal to say bff's name b4 mom + dad

[earthshine]

[ you’re okay. shiro barely hears it. he’s dialed in and narrow sighted, so direct in his movements that he crosses the distance between them in a matter of two ticks, three. no longer lost in the haze that rooted him to the spot, shiro is lost in a different kind of mind-frame, one that dictates that he can’t slow down and he can’t relax until he’s secured keith’s safety. keith is there, just within reach, thanking shiro for saving him even though shiro doesn’t understand how. that’s alright, shiro doesn’t need credit and understanding; all he needs is to know that keith is the one who is okay.

right. that’s what keith said before: you’re okay.

it comes to him then as he drops down in front of keith, not even flinching as his knees slam hard into the floor. looking keith over, shiro fixates on the vulnerable areas of his suit – eyes, nose, chin – gaze coming to rest lastly on the sloping of his neck. the undersuit is intact. everything is intact, actually. no cuts, no blood, keith’s okay. relief floods him, overtaking that meticulous detachment that’s kept him from falling apart completely. so he’s allowed to think it once more: you’re okay.

but is he? is he actually okay? shiro doesn’t feel like he is. he’s crashing. he’s bombing. coming down from an adrenaline high at intermittent, inconsistent speeds, shiro labors through his next breath, chest heaving and throat tightening for a hitched sound. metal fingers grasping at the hard form of keith’s paladin armor, shiro anchors himself to keith… but it doesn't work. he can’t get his bearings. once more spiraling, shiro falls prey to the confusing, overwhelming mixture of relief, horror, and shame.

he collapses in on himself. metal hand still holding tight to keith’s shoulder, shiro drops back to seat his ass on his heels and then bows his head, catching his face in the open palm of his left hand. all those nasty things the druid said, the sound of keith’s calls for help, the gurgling of the creature holding his likeness… shiro can’t hear anything else or perceive anything else. he keeps rounding back to the image of the monstrous version of himself dying. again, his breathing hitches on an unsteadiness that gives way to a weak, watery sob. ]

Dammit.

[ he doesn’t need more reason to cast scathing judgment on the brokenness of this body and this soul, but here he’s given it all the same. more weakness. more inability to cope and endure. tightening the fingers clutching at his face, shiro continues to hide in the safety of his palm, hoping to pull himself together. ]

i'm vaguely charmed

[marmoron]

[ whatever relief there is to feel over the situation remains heavily tempered with confusion. keith still has no answers to the basics of what just happened. the fight started with lotor and a druid, but the two still bodies no longer bear any resemblance. is it a trick? hallucination? it's not that the questions have ceased to matter, it's simply that in the moment shiro's< safety had been the most pressing of keith's concerns.

and perhaps it shouldn't be. leaving lotor behind in the rift between realities had been a forced choice. of course, the paladins were more important than rescuing a man who'd been ochestrated a shadow genocide of alteans hidden away in the bowels of a distant galaxy. the only reason it continues to nag at keith's conscience is the fact that this exact scenario had been the reason for zarkon and haggar's genesis ten thousand years ago. it's often said that history repeats itself and keith had been haunted for some time over being the black paladin to preside over the rise of a seco scourge upon the universe.

but more often than not, being leader in war isn't about making carefully debated calls. everything boils down to snap decisions made purely in the interest of surviving long enough to fight the next battle and hoping those calls don't come back to bite you in the ass.

all that said, keith hasn't articulated a damn word of this to anyone, and if there is something loose in the facility that's able to pick up on fears and insecurities, in the same way it knew in an instant to take on the shape of a druid when facing his best friend, then surely this is an even greater problem in the making?

who's to say that the warden hadn't been deliberately bringing these creatures in as a means of forcing people's hands? or that this isn't some beta trial for a new form of torture while prisoners are confined in solitary?

all of those new concerns get maybe three seconds of breathing time before shiro falls heavily onto his knees and his best friend once again eclipses every other spiraling thought in his head. ]

Shiro!

[ hands fly to shiro's armss, keith desperate to provide some semblance of stability. expression faltering instantly, keith wonders why the fuck he'd ever blurted out something so casual as you're okay when he knows his boyfriend is a fucking iceberg. sobering fast to the insensitivity, keith wraps his arms around, a hand reaching up to cradle the back of shiro's skull. he doesn't try to pull shiro's hand away fro his face, instead pulling him in close, shiro's head flush to his chest. ]

Babe, it's okay.... it's okay. I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you again, remember?

[ keith had promised that months ago after the vr incident had left them both shaken. since then they've run into more danger, like the ghost girl from the lighthouse, but for a time shiro hadn't been rattled or retraumatized. repressing a bone deep sigh over his uselessness tonight, keith presses his lips to the crown of shiro's head and holds him tighter. ]

You're safe.

[ except shiro isn't. none of them are. the lie leaves ashes on keith's tongue, the absurdity of the lie made all the more apparent by the dound of footsteps coming from within the hangar at the end of the tunnel. the fact that it isn't bothering to communicate is at least a dead giveaway that it's a sentry doing a perimeter sweep.

the timing would almost be funny if keith weren't suddenly exhausted by their unending escalation of their predicament. he amends: ]

You will be. C'mon, we should regroup at your cube.

[ the footsteps come to a stop. out of sight, the sentry begins unloading heavy boxes from within the cargo ship. the boxes, of course, contain various items, most notably a shipment of something that smells like potpourri when unsealed. for the time being, the sentry works diligently and efficiently, though one particular box is soaked through with blood on the bottom. once that one is lifted, the heavy contents will siimply fall through the compromised bottom and smash on the ground.

would be a real shame to get caught up in that mess, eh? ]

the potential for cute aus is strong w them

[earthshine]

[ no. it’s not okay. and no, there is no guarantee that nobody will hurt him again. as the pattern shows, the universe is rather set on ensuring that shiro continue to be battered around, physically and perhaps more so, mentally. he hates this, though: doubting keith in the midst of the boy’s reassurances. truthfully, the doubt doesn’t come as readily as it would otherwise, because just as the universe is dependable in torturing shiro, keith is dependable in being there to counteract it. keith takes care of him, more than any best friend or boyfriend is expected to. the list of reasons as to why shiro values, cares, adores this boy is so long that shiro is close to saying it’s endless, but near the top of that list–? yeah, keith’s willingness to be shiro’s rock throughout every high-risk situation and throughout every breakdown of shiro’s psyche, is right up there, humbling shiro into heart pangs that have him recognizing that he can never fully repay this boy.

which is the steadying thought he latches onto in order to pull himself out of his spiral. he’s burdened keith enough. just because keith is willing, doesn’t mean shiro needs to milk that care for everything it’s worth. pull it together, compartmentalize, deal with this later, always later – he repeats the orders to himself, over and over in a loop, trying to focus beyond the comforting nestle of keith’s chest. gosh, he just wants to stay here. can’t he stay here?

no.

he tenses in keith’s arms, head lifting, marginally, from its hiding place, both from his hand and against keith. footsteps. shiro’s opinion for himself continues to crash, both unforgiving and embarrassed by not only his show of weakness, but his continued inability to recognize how dire their situation can become. this is neither the time nor the place to fall apart. keith is of a similar mind, the boy amending his earlier statement and then rerouting them to a goal of shiro’s cube. ]

Okay. [ one word and somehow, it sounds labored, like just breathing through it is exhausting to shiro. he clears his throat and starts detangling himself from keith, trying again for a slightly more firm. ] Okay.

[ mind made up but body slow to follow, shiro delays them in his climb to his feet. keith is there, of course, willing to help steady him to legs that ache through the knees and threaten to buckle. he hasn't gained twenty pounds out of thin air, but he feels heavier; slowed and disjointed in this body that worked so efficiently the moment he gave into instinct, but now can't seem to remember how to do the simplest of tasks. none of this would matter if it weren't for the sounds echoing down the tunnel, first as footsteps, then as shuffling goods, and finally… a crash?

shiro winces violently, anxiety skyrocketing and body locking up, that it's a wonder he doesn't collapse down to the grating again. surely he would have, if it weren't for keith's continued support. half led and half by his own volition, shiro starts down the opposite way of the noises, giving the murdered remains a quick glance as they both pass. if he wasn't brittle from a deteriorating mental state, he would think to check the bodies over for clues as to what the fuck it is, where it came from, what it wanted, anything, because they won't be getting another chance. once the sentries and deputies come across the scene, they'll clean it up, as though nothing ever happened.

though, maybe that's for the best? how deep does shiro's curiosity go? further now, shiro faintly recognizes where they are; not enough to lead them out, but it settles, a little, that adrift feeling that has him perpetually feeling lost. the sweet, flowery scent is different, though. he doesn't remember that. fast moving from the broken shipment to the vents to the circling air, the potpourri fragrance comes out surprisingly strong. shiro's steps slow after the second lungful and then stop completely be the fourth. he doesn't say anything. he recognizes that it's strange that he says nothing, yet he blinks slow and stares after keith, uncomprehending and distanced for the fifth breath.

it truly is fast moving, because it floods shiro's system in a way that is beyond logic. the apprehensive tension that's been coloring his expression? gone. replaced, instead, by hazy, softened eyes and a quirk to his mouth that reads fond. ]

See… I knew it. You’re so pretty when you’re leadering.

[ that is definitely not what shiro's been saying all this time when he first started pushing for keith to take over as voltron leader. i like it when you're bossy, is closer, but this isn't that either. this is shiro easing into shy flirtation at the most inappropriate time, peeling back metaphorical layers. ]

You’re so good, Keith. I don’t tell you that enough. [ true. very true. ] You take care of me. Always.

[ wasn't he just telling himself not to depend so heavily on keith? to pull himself together and not lean on that care? the sudden acceptance of such selfishness doesn't alarm shiro, for he lacks the self-awareness to recognize it. so he steps closer, body buzzing all the way to his fingertips, which reach for and clutch at keith forearm with both hands. ]

I wanna feel safe. [ pleading now, he gives keith's arm a shake. ] You make me feel safe. Especially when you put your arms around me and hold me close. There’s nowhere I feel safer than in your arms. I never want to leave them.

distressing...

[marmoron]

[ keith is quiet, straining to listen for signs of danger as the two of them walk back to the tunnel's entrance. staying focused on potential threats is what keith chooses to ground himself with, but leaving behind unanswered questions and an unknown enemy easily starts nagging at his conscience.

perhaps it's nothing more than a consequence of being reminded of the fucking druids and their orchestrated massacre of the blades, but it's hard not to feel guilt. no individual comes before the mission. it's the single mantra that kolivan and the others had tried to beat into his head for months that keith had never managed to internalize.

here and now, he isn't part of a group with some organized mission, but all the same, walking away from the promise of intel feels jarring too. perhaps like another mistake in the making? but whatever that anxiety is, it can't possibly be more important than the need to get shiro to safety. something out here is trying to kill them as always, and neither of them are in the correct state of mind to tackle this.

a point that's easily reinforced by the way keit very nearly jumps when something behind them smashes and shatters, his free hand rounding behind his back to grab for his knife. breathing hard, keith first looks to shiro, releasing the knife handle to keep his best friend steady on his feet, before taking a quick look behind them.

nothing.

another deep breath and this time keith catches a strong whiff of something flowery in the air. nose wrinkling,, keith once again looks to shiro as if to ask do you smell that? before coming to pause in lockstep with his best friend. the fact that the confusion is ebbing away ought to be concerning in and of itself, but his racing thoughts start to slow. shiro speaks, and the unexpected commentary on his leadership scatters all else to the wind. ]

... You think that about me?

[ it's a bizarre time to be getting sidetracked. honestly keith doesn't even know what to make of that opinion. his leadership of voltron had always been a point of tension, largely characterized by criticism and resentment, both fair and unfair. his attractiveness as leader, however, is an entirely different angle . shiro doesn't give him much time to process that before swiftly taking his arm hostage.

keith blinks, momentarily owl-eyed in his surprise. embracing his vulnerability and actually leaning on keith isn't like shiro at all, but that awareness is fleeting, easily washed away in a high tide of affection as keith puts his arm around shiro's waist. ]

I never want you to leave them either.

[ they've had a variant of this conversation before, but shiro had batted that aside with a reminder of the white-haired shiro waiting back in his reality. but perhaps that doesn't matter either. right now, this shiro wants to feel safe and so, keith coaxes strong arms around his neck, then bends to scoop his boyfriend up. ]

We;ll go back to your cube, just like this and you can hold on as tight as you want.

[ with a lean and seemingly zero concern for the fact that they're still in hostile territory, keith presses a soft kiss to shiro's forehead. ]

Sound good, big guy?

Distressing! ... Actually, true. Too easy to add aus to the list

[earthshine]

[ shiro's mind has been clogged with a disconnecting fog for awhile now, but now it's twinged with a different haze. it's sweet and affection-laden, synapses firing slow in awareness for everything not centered around this boy. it's as though his very makings depend on being accepted by keith and keith, perhaps not fully in tune with shiro's direction of thought but always willing to be the rock for shiro to cling to, readily puts his arms around him. there are layers between them – vest, shirt, gloves, armor – but shiro's body knows these arms well, so he doesn't need much for an immediate flutter in his chest or a deep-seated thrum that threatens to liquify him into a pleasurable goo.

he redirects his hands, grasping at the ridiculously rounded, armored shoulder pads. the points of contact help stabilize his weakened knees, the whole of him already leaning into the hold, subconsciously searching for more. needing more. keith, of course, provides. those arms of his are coaxed into a loop and then his legs are swept out from under him. the subsequent moment is filled with wonder. awe. the kind of feeling that digs deep into his belly and has him squirming. not long, of course, because even his compromised brain recognizes that he shouldn't be making this more difficult for keith, even though he's strong, even though he's capable, even though he's the finest man shiro has ever known. ]

Mmhm.

[ humming his approval to the direction of his plan, shiro goes pliant in keith's arms, even going so far as to curl further, resting his head to the gap of his arm and keith's shoulder. a paladin dressed in, mostly, white armor; it's pretty close to those fairy tales of white knights riding in to save the fair maidens. does that make shiro the damsel in distress? The thought comes unbidden but it's humor that welcomes it, rather than the more usual rebuke that dominates shiro's response any time his capability is called into question.

so he continues to allow himself to be cared for, absolutely submissive to the comforting hold and warmth of keith's body that may not be able to be felt through the armor but is imagined through other means. throughout the walk back, shiro barely comprehends the change of scenery. out of the cargo bay and into far more familiar territory, shiro still doesn't think much of the path they're on or anticipate how much longer until they reach the cube. Instead, he finds himself focusing on fellow prisoners. ]

People keep staring.

[ not everyone does a double-take, but it happens often enough that it calls a pleased, somewhat dazed smile to shiro's lips. they do make a sight, don't they? keith is effortlessly gorgeous, even all covered up in gaudily designed armor, but it's the size difference, he thinks, which is the attention draw. well, that and – ]

Do you think they know I belong to you?

[ the jovial quality to his musing leaves no doubt: shiro is pleased by the very idea. ]

I hope they do. [ a beat, a huffed laugh. ] They should. Look how you spoil me… of course I’m yours.

i do love how easily the aus multiply..

[marmoron]

[ with little to show for their efforts down in the tunnels, the walk back to shiro's cube isn't necessarily something that should make keith swell with pride, but how can he not with shiro lifted and held securely in his arms? while they haven't made any grand secret out of their relationship in prison, they don't go out of their way to display their care for each other in any bold, dramatic way. in a place where public sex is fairly easy to stumble across, carrying shiro in his arms like the precious man that he is doesn't necessarily stand out in a crowd.

or at least, keith wouldn't have thought so. shiro's the one who points it out and keith, who normally pays greater attention to his surroundings. finally tears his besotted gaze away from his boyfriend to glance at the prisoners watching him and his sweet boy. grin broadening, keith hefts shiro up in his arms to kiss his nose while pointedly making eye contact with an onlooker. ]

Well now they definitely know.

[ and if they don't? well, keith takes care of that by leaning down to press a lingering kiss to shiro's mouth. keeping it chaste, keith pulls away after three long beats, this time with a warm, shy smile that's reserved purely for shiro. ]

I love hearing that you're mine. Makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive.

[ and that being the case, keith succumbs to the temptation of a brief nuzzle of his nose to shiro's before finally getting his feet moving again. naturally, being inside with shiro means getting to spoil him with even more affection, right?

but while waiting for the scan to register his anklet to open up the cube door, keith gently nips at shiro's ear, whipsering low and filthy: ]

So maybe we should stay outside just to show everyone the extent of it.

[ the scan pings and the door opens up, however, and keith doesn't push the suggestion any further than with a raised eyebrow. ]

just too little time, woe

[earthshine]

[ no. shiro is the luckiest guy alive. here he is, cradled in the arms of the most gorgeous boy in all the universes and all the realities, completely adored and completely kept safe. shiro rounds back to that word as he obediently tips his face, closing his eyes and giving himself over to keith’s indulgent nose nuzzles. his lips are still buzzing, his fingers, toes are still restless, his heart is still fluttering through its heartbeats; the feeling would be uncomfortable if it weren’t for the steadying repetition of safe, safe, safe in his head. that’s what he asked for and keith, as always, delivers. this boy is everything. this boy does everything. shiro is convinced that, if he asked for it, keith would move mountains for him. he’s already saved him one, two, three, how many times now? countless times during the war and dozens of smaller, less apparent, but still meaningful ways, yes, shiro owes this boy his life, his soul, his –

ah. shiro thinks, maybe, he loves him. he does love him through years of familiarity, but he thinks it’s crossed that line from familial and friendship. that love has saturated itself in affection, grown with fondness, and sprouted into the kind of bond that has him realizing that he doesn’t know how to exist without this boy. he adores him. he wants him. he loves him.

huh. now that he thinks it, he wonders why it’s taken him so long to realize. it’s not so difficult to see once he stops weighing it against responsibility and expectation, neither of which his influenced perception is allowing him to dwell on at present. right now, his mind is slowed with molasses-honeyed affection, leaving him clear-headed and void of inhibitions. nonetheless, he doesn’t blurt out the words, though they can be gleaned just as easily by the way he continues to cling and stare up at keith, eyes doe in their gentleness.

… but then keith’s nipping and whispering, and those eyes go half-lidded and distant behind a haze. it takes a moment for him to get his tongue working, the appendage rolling uselessly inside his mouth even as his lips flop and form. ]

Yeah. [ goodness; one word and he’s already pausing for a soft, needy sound, hands less clinging and more pawing at armor that is frustratingly solid. ] Maybe we should.

[ shiro has no green thumb, so the greenery around the cube isn’t anything worth admiring. nonetheless, there’s a patch of grass that looks soft enough. that is, of course, assuming keith means here. maybe he’ll walk him right back to the community center and undress him there, where it’s the busiest. the thought of so many eyes on him should unnerve him – nevermind the intimacy, he never warms to the idea of others seeing the flaws of his body – but instead, the mental image of keith holding him throughout that, demonstrating to everyone that shiro is his, only makes shiro’s cock throb and stiffen.

so he makes another noise, far higher and far whinier, desire overpowering any thought of self-restrain and self-preservation. ]

You could fuck me, too. Really lay claim to me in a way no one else has.

BIG WOE.

[marmoron]

[ the suggestion had been playful and heartfelt in its own right, but not one to be taken seriously. it's easy to be possessive of each other in a place where breathing in a whiff of aphro can, and routinely, overrides their promise of exclusivity. heh. if anything, that's exactly the reason why keith adores when shiro leaves bruises and marks on the canvas of his skin because it broadcasts to the world that keith has someone.

but leaving hickeys and love marks in visible places is one thing. taking that to the next logical step of fucking each other to educate an audience is another. keith knows shiro well enough to know that his best friend is self conscious about the mutilation of his body and that being shown off in the throes of vulnerability and pleasure isn't what he'd choose for himself. at least, not on a whim.

but none of that knowledge actually comes to the surface in meaningful ways. instead, keith is mentally reeling from the suggestion and the spiral galaxy's worth of implied trust shiro must have in him and their bond to even suggest such a thing. ]

...wait, really?

[ expression owlish, keith doesn't know where to begin in schooling his shock into something more casual. it's just ... shiro means everything to him, despite knowing they have obligations to their respective realities. shiro's always been the one who'd been better able to keep that perspective grounded, leaving keith to constantly push away the loneliness that comes into sharper focus in the moments after shiro empties his balls inside him and pulls out.

his heart skips. more than skips. cartwheels, trips, free falls, sprintss. soars. surprise softens into a deeply moony smile as keith ignores the open door of shiro's cube and kisses the boy in his arms. shiro's never offered this to him before, and just that spark of suggestion for role reversal is enough to get his cock filling out in the skin tight cling of his horrible undersuit. ]

I'd be honored to claim you like that, babe.

[ honored, har and eager. with one last indulgent kiss, keith gently lowers shiro to the grass, hovering briefly to kiss his forehead and cheeks. ]

I wanna make you feel so good and treat you perfect like you deserve.

[ with obvious reluctance, keith pulls back to start loosening up the pieces of his flashy red and white paladin armor. whoever designed this clearly didn't have sex on the mind though, and keith is busy scowling as he fumbles in his impatience to get the chest plate up and over his head. throwing it aside like it's trash, keith puts his hands back on shiro, indulgently feeling out his chest and teasing nipples over fabric before yanking down the zipper of his vest. ]

and w a wave of my magic rp wand, the grass turns into snow

[earthshine]

[ keith bends and shiro finds footing with the frost covered ground, lamenting the loss, even if keith tries to soften the disconnect by giving him a few kisses across his face. treat him perfect, like he deserves? in another time, in another mind frame, shiro would have an inner commentary on that. his concept of what it is he deserves has vastly changed in recent times. it’s the sense of responsibility and the ever lingering effects of unresolved trauma that have him questioning the quality of happiness he’s allowed to seek out for himself. thankfully, there’s a mental barrier right now, blocking his access to mood ruining thoughts. so shiro, blissful and eager to please keith, is obedient and sweet, bobbling his head like that is an adequate answer to keith’s statement. yes, yes, yes, okay, do that – is the extent of that nodding, eyes alight throughout to give him a puppy-like earnestness to be a good boy.

he watches first, simply standing there as keith fights at his armor. arguably, being a good boy would involve him aiding keith in ridding layers, but it’s somewhat fascinating – and delightful – to watch keith wriggle out of his chest plate with such an obvious, exasperated air about him. not that keith spends all that much time on himself. one piece down and then keith is in his space again, this time pinching the zipper and roughly yanking it down.

zip! the vest splits apart and while shiro has the long-sleeved undershirt, the sense of exposure runs high, making him a little dizzy with the headrush. he’s yet to trail his gaze away to give a genuine surveillance of the area and who may be around to see this; he only has eyes for keith. ]

You’re impatient. [ not even the slightest hint of a reprimand can be found in his voice. it’s too breathless and wanton. ] Fuck, me too.

[ which translates to: the bed is indeed too far and the layers are far too time consuming to deal with. which in turn, leads to: shiro picking out a patch of snow, powdery and freshly left not more than a day ago, stepping over to it as he fumbles with the fastenings of his pants. nothing removed just yet, but fly open to show the waistband of his boxer-briefs, shiro sits himself down in that snow pile. it’s chilly, an immediate shiver running up his spine and making him work his jaw in a clench of his teeth. but then he’s sighing and relaxing, reclining back on his elbows. ]

I’ve thought about it before. [ off and on, never too deeply or confidently, so it isn’t a stretch to believe: ] I know you’ll be better than anything my mind’s come up with.

[ keith likes his nips; shiro knows he does, especially with those greedy touches not two minutes ago. so he grips the hem of his long-sleeve, simply pulling the front up to his armpits and collarbones, putting himself on display in what he hopes is an enticing image. ]

Just give me direction, sir. How do you want me?

i just keep laughing at how quick this escalated

[marmoron]

[ one tick ago, and the desert gremlin that used to wear multiple layers of clothes when it dropped below fifty in the desert would have had an easy answer to shiro's question: not on top of the snow. funny how a tease of shiro's boxers and a flash of chill-peaked dimes readily make an easy convert out of keith's lizard brain.

he gapes, staring with open-mouthed, shameless appreciation as he follows up and down the enticing line of his boyfriend's beautifully sculpted body. every word out of his perfect lips is candy sweet, though the enormity of the fact that shiro's been wanting keith to claim the first of his ever gets lost in the delighted thrumming tingle that leaves keith's toes curling in his boots.

and fuck, shiro calls him sir. for all that keith absolutely detested leadership being forced onto his shoulders, this... is something he could actually get a real thrill out of. for years, there's been linearity to their relationship -- shiro is the mentor and senior officer, keith is the cadet and mentee. shiro is the leader, keith is his right hand, and second in command. outside of the hierarchy enforced by external factors like the garrison and voltron, there's nothing that says these dynamics have to carry over in reparacija -- and for the most part, they don't.

as a general rule, when they're being intimate with one another, keith isn't thinking about shiro as his superior, commanding officer. shiro is his best friend and boyfriend ... and yet being bent over shiro's knees for insubordination wound up scratching an itch that keith wasn't aware needed scratching. in clearer-headed moments, keith rationalizes it away as an expression of joy for the complete trust he has in shiro. whether that be in allowing shiro to play or punish, but having complete confidence that his best friend will take care of him feels good. more than that, it feels right.

but that fucking sir and the way it makes his cock throb exposes the lie. it's not just about an extreme expression of trust, is it? no. paradoxically clearer-headed in his desires, keith sees this for the kink it is. it's about playing with their roles, their entire friendship, twisting it inside out .... and taking care of another itch that they're not supposed to scratch.

i like when you're bossy.

heh. so in a roundabout way, maybe this is about trust again, but more than that.... keith wants to be worthy of whatever this is and wherever it'll lead. even if it leads into a goddamn pile of snow. at least shiro lying on top of it makes the prospect amazingly enticing. ]

Heh. That's right, you keep calling me sir. [ keith steps over, kneeling to straddle shiro at the knees, palms planted firmly on the snow on either side of shiro's thighs. the chill makes keith repress a shiver, but keeps his hands where they are as he leans in to press their foreheads together. ]

Take your pretty cock out and play with yourself for me while I play up here.

[ and of course, the reason for that extended contact with the snow? it makes for a nice icy brush of fingers over already hard nips. pulling back to pinch, and then squeezing shiro's pecs, keith pauses to appreciate his handiwork before dipping even lower to warm his boy back up with his tongue and lips, licking and sucking in turn.

it's stupid, perhaps, not to even bother checking to see if anyone's around, but keith is thoroughly engrossed in his present engagement. ]

shiro is blameless. he's high on potpourri

[earthshine]

[ so he likes that. what a pair they make: two ex-military men, thriving on one very familiar word. how stereotypical of them. later, when shiro is in full range of his mind and capable, again, of feeling something akin to shame, he’ll grin embarrassingly and tut about how easily they both feed into the very unoriginal authority kink. for now, however, shiro only feels an overwhelming rush of satisfaction. he’s pleased keith. he’s given keith something he wants and gained his approval. he’s been a good boy. encouraged both by that and the fact that keith is now straddling his knees, leaning into him, shiro welcomes him in with a smile and a tip of his head, eagerly meeting that press.

there isn’t any resistance to keith’s order, either. acceptance is an odd reaction for shiro; he isn’t the type to expose himself in public, but here, he does it readily. so eager to meet keith’s expectation, shiro gives up the support of his elbows to fumble at his waistband. he has strong abs; they flex and harden, right there on full display, keeping shiro in the reclined lean despite his arms abandoning their support. however, the moment shiro pulls the waistband down to pull out his cock, it’s a different story.

his hands are cold. he hisses through the initial wrap of his snow chilled fingers, abdominals spasming and body teetering, his galra arm knocking back to catch himself with that elbow digging deep into the snow. the weakened, borderline uncomfortable feeling isn’t helped by keith’s equally cold fingertips that now tease and pinch at his nipples. goosebumps arise all along his body, sending a shiver down his spine that expands and overtakes, making the whole of him tense with a clenching of his teeth. keith is there though, with a wet, warm mouth, lips teasing and tongue soothing as he suckles the chill right out of him. experimentally, he runs his left hand up his length, squeezing his palm over his cockhead. it isn’t good but it isn’t bad either. he’s undetermined, yet determined to make it great for himself, simply to appease keith.

so he doesn’t complain and he doesn’t whine. he keeps stroking, warming to the friction and inevitably, thickening as the enormity of the situation begins to dawn on him. suddenly, it doesn’t feel like winter at all. the snow loses its chill and the air loses its nip, shiro’s body running hot both from his own hand’s motion and by having this beautiful boy draped over him, lavishing him with attention. shiro’s own drifts in the next moment, awareness prickling in a way that has him feeling watched. down the path but so clearly in sight is a man. a neighbor, actually. shiro recognizes him as the inmate that claims the cube two down from his own. they’ve said hello a few times and even had a conversation or two. nothing in-depth to make any sort of lasting impression.

not like this. ]

That didn’t take long.

[ there’s a hint of humor in that sighing of words. shiro finishes the next pump of his fist and then comes to a pause. he can’t deny the way his skin prickles with anxiety, but it isn’t his place to call this; it’s keith’s. keith’s the one leading, the one telling, the one deciding. shiro is merely here to do as he says and, hopefully, please him along the way. so slowly, shiro drags his gaze from the man who is making no indication of leaving or politely turning his gaze away. he looks to keith. ]

What’s your order, sir? Should I keep stroking for the both of you?

as long as shiro remembers keith was also high on potpourri..

[marmoron]

[ that didn't take long? contented as keith is with sucking little marks on his good boy's chest, he initially assumes that's in reference to the way shiro has gone firm in his hand. keith pulls away, looking down from his vantage point to the cock head pointing back up at him from within the tight circle of shiro's fist. keith purrs, clearly pleased with the luscious sight of his boyfriend hard nad perky, only to pout a little when he notices his gaze has drifted elsewhere.

following shiro's line of sight, the meaning of the phrase that didn't take long takes on a different meaning. having been in prison long enough to be generally familiar with each inmate, this one is at least more memorable than the others simply by virtue of being one of his boyfriend's neighbors. keith eyes him up, unmoving from his position of straddling shiro's knees, and for a moment it's the most bizarre standoff keith has ever been in.

shiro with his cock out. the neighbor ogling with open fascination and keith caught between wanting to tell the guy to fuck off wanting to make a point. all in all, he ought to be far more attuned to the tension that's crept into shiro's body language, but his lizard brain is only finding fault with one thing in particular.

first, he cups shiro's face in both his hands, kissing and sucking his lips with pos[sessive indulgence. ]

Stroke for me, babe. Just for me. Ignore the idiot.

[ the instruction is wildly hypocritical though, as keith keeps the neighbor trained in his peripheral vision while kissing and giving shiro's nip a final pinch. ]

Gona teaches him something.

[ perhaps a little alarmingly, keith takes his hands off shiro and grabs the handle of his knife. pulling the crotch flight suit away from his pelvis, keith then cuts into the fabric and reaches inside to pull out his own hard cock. eyes still trained on the interloper, keith squeezes his cock to shiro's and slowly strokes them off together.

the inmate stares open-mouthed, face warming ... right up until the point keith switches his knife out for the bayard. the bayard which becomes a laser rifle that's pointed right at his head. keith doesn't have to issue a threat, the man runs off to his cube metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

perhaps it's wrong to laugh, but in his addled state, keith can't help preening over the victory. he kisses shiro on the lips, murmuring: ]

There. Let's go be warm inside. I'll carry you.

yes... tho i dunno if he'll be able to look keith in the eye for a few days after this

[earthshine]

[ he’s not an exhibitionist. his sentencing sheet may call for it with that unchecked box labeled dogging, but shiro can honestly say, that in all his twenty-five years, he has never once wanted to fuck or be fucked in front of an audience. but with cold against his back and heat on his thighs, right here, right now, shiro wants it. it’s the look in keith’s eyes that does it for him. he’s hazy, yet determined, generous, yet greedy, open, yet possessive. it’s that last one that has shiro giving a full-body shudder. keith’s beautiful on any given day, but he’s absolutely breathtaking when he’s in control. and he is here. he moves with purpose, knowing exactly what it is he wants and what he needs, slicing his own suit open like it’s nothing. and maybe it isn’t. maybe that suit is meaningless compared to the necessity of feeling skin to skin.

shiro has no attention for his neighbor. keith said something about teaching him something but shiro is being taught, too; taught that he belongs to this boy. so he watches keith with rapt attention, mouth parted and breath heavy, only to stutter weakly as keith squeezes their cocks together. those ridges press hard against his shaft and it probably should be uncomfortable, but shiro is so embarrassingly turned on by keith’s direction that, with the squeeze, his cockhead spittles out a glob of pre. so consumed by the dizzying affect keith has on him, shiro barely registers why keith’s laughing until he’s kissed soundly and told there, with the kind of finality that finally gets shiro to blink a glance to where his neighbor once stood.

let’s go be warm inside.

the promise of being held in keith’s arms again is a tempting, very wanted thing, but shiro blurts out: ]

No.

[ afterwards, he bites his lip, looking cagey and uncertain for outright denying keith’s wants. he wants to please keith. he wants to be and do whatever it is keith needs. but part of him is still caught up in the idea of being claimed, of being seen as keith’s. doesn’t keith want that too? so he tries again with a softer: ]

Please. [ lowering himself to the ground, he shivers but not solely from the snow at his back. With both hands, he pulls his shirt impossibly higher, putting as much skin on display as he can. ] Cum on me first. There are others… they need to be taught, too. Need to know I’m marked as yours.

forsooth it shall be fine....

[marmoron]

[ there is such a fucking expansive list of reasons why this is a terrible idea. over the years, keith has gotten far better at exercising restraint and judgment rather than flying high on impulses and throwing up middle fingers to the world, though it hasn't always been easy. especially when something feels so right that it resonates with the core of his soul.

see, right now it's not that keith can't see that obliging shiro in this won't lead to potential embarrassment if lance or pidge, or hell even the wolf, happen to pass by at an inopportune moment, it's that shiro is a fantasy ripped right out of his filthiest dreams, laid back, pecs out and begging to be marked.

shiro's always gorgeous, of course, but he isn't usually so brazen and open about how he wants keith to touch and claim him. keith groans, finally understanding why his boyfriend had been so adamant about making him state all his dirty wants out loud because fuck, watching shiro presenting himself in this fashion is hitting so many buttons that keith is starting to wonder if everything is just going to be a fucking button when it comes to this amazing guy.

his amazing guy.

his amazing guy who makes an excellent point. ]

Heh. Can't argue with that. There are a lot of people who need to be taught that here.

[ keith scoots up higher, to straddle shiro's thighs, putting both his bayard and knife off to the side. he keeps their dicks squeezed together in his right hand, pumping steadily as he leans forward, faces hovering above shiro's. ]

You need that refresher too, don't you big guy...

[ not just for when they're together in prison, but beyond that. when they're home, in their own realities, incalculably far apart and separated by space and time, shiro will still be keith's. lizard brain thoroughly appeased, keith pumps his fist up and down their combined shafts as he dips low to suck at the hollow of shiro's throat. ]

So tell me. Nice and loud. Who do you belong to?

and watch, that person will never tag me again

[earthshine]

[ big guy. might as well dub him obedient guy at this point, because there is no quip to meet that. shiro doesn’t even bat an eye. keith says he needs a refresher and shiro bobbles his head in agreement, top incisors catching his bottom lip for a back and forth gnaw down. it works for about two seconds in muffling him. but keith’s got their dicks aligned in a tightening grip, that fist pumping and pumping to provide steady friction. shiro’s weak for it; weak for this man. his ass flexes and his hips push up, squirming that extra inch to rub himself into the rubbing, sparking the pleasure that much more.

so yes, the way he’s biting down does little to stop him from moaning. the sound is embarrassing: too high, too needy. he’s keening at a fever pitch, digging the back of his head further into the snow as keith sucks at his throat. fuck, shiro hopes he leaves a mark. he wants keith to cum on him and paint him filthy, but a deep purple bruise right there, front and center, in the shape of keith’s mouth would be that much better. no mistaking he belongs to someone then, huh?

he relaxes his mouth just enough to release his lip and then he’s groaning louder, deeper, just so keith can feel his throat vibrating underneath his lips. that’s loud, but when it comes to words? ]

I belong to you.

[ they come punched out, far too breathy to carry beyond shiro’s makeshift yard. not good enough. that isn’t what keith told him to do. nice and loud. right. people need to be taught. people need to know. so he kicks his voice higher, near shouting for whatever unfortunate neighbors and passerbyers are near enough to hear. ]

I belong to Keith! I don’t need anyone else.

[ the rhythmic sound of a beating fist is unmistakable. shiro’s dribbling, easing the motion with slick that spreads and sticks and coats. he reaches for keith then, grasping at keith’s hips and digging his cold fingers in, wanting to feel him through the suit. ]

Just you. [ voice softer now, he redirects to speak to keith directly. ] Just, hhh – you’re it. You’re so it for me.

that person would be a coward then :/

[marmoron]

[ whatever questionable brain to mouth filter that's normally in place gets a hole blasted straight through it when shiro squirms and shouts. ears ringing, heart pounding, and every stray noise and touch seemingly going straight to his dick, keith simply blurts out a heady: ]

Fuck.

[ moaned through a delirious intense fog that's made all the more potent by the urgent beating of his fist, keith warbles a little mindlessly between sucks and hard nips at shiro's throat. ]

Fuck, you're such a good boy, babe. SO perfect for me in every way.

[ free hand coming up to squeeze and pinch at a pec, keith groans as he pulls back to get an eyeful of the deep purple love mark he's left behind. perfect. it's not a word that keith throws out regularly, but what can he say? there are more reasons than keith has fingers to count on why fucking out in the open is a terrible idea, but they're here anyway with shiro declaring who he belongs to for the entire world to hear.

of course, it smashes all the buttons in keith's head, making him a barley coordinated, filth-fueled idiot who just wants to give shiro everything he's asking for in return. grunting as keith beats them off faster, he dips low, licking a hot stripe over shiro's pert nipple then speaks between panted breaths. ]

Gonna cum all over you. Gonna show everyone you're mine. And you're gonna show me just how perfect you are by cumming with me, got it?

[ grip twisting to get his thumb on shiro's cock head, keith swirls the pad around the slit, no longer pumping but grinding his hips to rock their cocks together.. ]

You're gonna feel it like this inside. [ rutting faster, keith moans and ins shiro's shoulder into the snow. shiro's first time should be gentle, careful, and tender, but keith quickly loses that line of fantasy imagining just how perfect his boyfriend is going to feel squeezing around his ensheathed cock, all the while straining and groaning to take him. ]

Fuck, Shiro....!

[ it's not even a complete warning, keith has a little mind for that. instead, his voice pitches with urgency as he hits a crest and shouts shiro's name while his cock unloads a sticky mess. ]

forsooth l:

[earthshine]

[ at present, shiro is beyond shame. so when keith drops a command on when and how shiro is meant to cum, shiro does not balk from the memory it immediately brings to mind. in fact, shiro is quite the opposite. he’s eager and pleased, head bobbling into the snow as he needlessly nods in frantic jerks. keith is busy elsewhere, licking his chest and teasing his already hard nip nops, and shiro’s hazy, cotton-stuffed brain comes to realize that, no, keith can’t see him nodding and that he really ought to say something. ]

Sir, yes, sir.

[ … later, he will remember his shame and groan aloud for a completely different reason. for now, he groans and whines and squirms to that lovely thumb drawing circles over his slit, swiping every bit of pre that beads there. it’s endless it seems. embarrassingly, stupefied shiro hopes there’s enough left when his actual orgasm hits, because he wants to be good, he wants to be perfect, he wants to make keith proud of how filthy he becomes with both of their messes splattered on him. no one will mistake that he’s been claimed.

who he’s trying to prove this to remains to be a mystery. since that neighbor, no one else has come to stare. for the best, really, because shiro is making these short, punched out sounds to keith’s grinding, legs trying to splay wider despite the restriction of his pants. ]

Want you inside. Want, nngh – your cock.

[ his very unique cock with ridges upon ridges. shiro has nothing to compare it to. should he be nervous? is it going to feel strange? he’s had keith in his throat, though, and compared to the other cocks he’s sucked in his lifetime, keith’s is, unsurprisingly, his favorite. it’s the challenge of it, as well as the fun of mapping out its very unique shape. the fact that it is also attached to keith, his best friend who he’s just decided that he’s very much in love with, seals the favoritism. so if it feels amazing in his throat, then it has to be otherworldly inside his ass – right?

coherency is a fleeting thing. it takes very little to derail shiro’s thoughts and focus them elsewhere. namely? the tensing of his body as keith works his cock with hand, hips and the ever addicting friction of keith’s cock moving against him. keith hits it first and wildly, shiro scrambles his hands out, grasping at all the hard panes of keith’s armor, and kicks out his legs to hook them around keith’s hamstrings. almost, almost, he needs to – at the same time… !

keith’s dumped cum on him by the time shiro catches up. voice raising to match and intermingle with keith’s, shiro wails keith’s name, face awash with pleasure and eyes screwed tightly shut. shiro loses count of how many pumps of cum land on him, but by the end of it, his chest to belly is a mess. just as keith ordered. smiling on that thought, shiro slowly opens his eyes, everything about him lazy in the moment as he unhooks his legs and ungrasps his fingers, collapsing into the snow. ]

Did I do good? [ he’s got a hand between them, fingers splayed out as he smears their combined cum around and around. ] Was I perfect?

.... i walked right into that.

[marmoron]

[ fuck.there's so much going on at once, between his own climax and his boyfriend's squeezing and moaning and sirs ringing in keith's ears. keith tries to take it all in, but it quickly becomes sensory overload for his blissed-out head and he's reduced to little more than mindlessly dropping sweet kisses on shiro's chest while milking the last of shiro's cum with languid strokes up and down his softening cock.

breathing hard, keith stays on top of shiro, forehead pressed to his pec while he gathers himself enough to push up and kiss his boy's lips. ]

You're so perfect, Shiro. Every time I'm with you, I'm reminded of just how lucky I am.

[ lucky. heh. hardly the right word to describe a situation in which they've both been captured and forced into an alien fuck prison, but in looking down at the sticky mess they've created together on shiro's gorgeous body, what else is keith supposed to see, other than an incredible blessing?

face flushed, he dip low to recapture shiro's lips in a lingering, demanding kiss. murmured whisper soft, and only for his boyfriend's ears: ]

You're so it for me, too. Even when you're not trying.

[ and something about that knocks the balance of playfulness they've found here askew, tipping it towards something more heartfelt. ]

You're the most beautiful person I've ever met. Inside and out, and I...

[ i love you? floating and high from afterglow, keith still hesitates as the words practically write themselves. but why? why hold back on something that's been true for so long that it has to be obvious? keith blinks, then pushes back up onto his knees and circles around to get his arms under shiro to support him through a carry. ]

I want to love you. You should let me, Shiro.

yes. so blame yourself, not me

[earthshine]

[ the world around them, from the snow encasing him to the ever present knowledge that they’re stuck in a prison, has gone blurry at the edges. soft and languid, shiro is a contented heap of good feeling, the fading sparks of pleasure still teasing, still keeping his hand moving through the sticky mess now spread all over his torso. he hums and smiles as keith shifts higher, looking up at him with dazed, half-lidded eyes. those eyes slip shut in the next moment, freely giving himself over to the demands of keith’s lips. the moment is idyllic, only made better with murmured words that make his heart sing, even if keith is stealing his words. not just the ones he’s already spoken, but then ones that are inside his head, because that’s what keith is, too. the most beautiful person he’s ever known, inside and out.

the argument over who is the prettier of the two, thankfully, never comes to fruition. shiro is a touch too slow to form the words, his mind sluggish and his tongue worse, with how uncooperative it is to actually perform for any significant verbalization. so he hums again, hands coming up to loop around keith’s neck, cum dirtied hand smearing obvious lines across his undersuit. white on black, it's a poor imitation of the gaudy neck guard that usually comes with this ensemble. the thought has hum huffing with faint amusement, head lolling to rest against his looped arm as keith hefts him up.

there is little time to rest, however. keith is still saying the sweetest things, even as he begins to stand, and soon, it's like a shot of energy to shiro’s sated body. i want to love you. keith picks him up like he doesn’t outweigh him by forty, fifty pounds. the orgasm is too fresh for him to do anything with the fresh wave of heat that fills his belly, but he does help by wrapping legs to keith’s hips and lifting his head, swinging in close to touch their noses. ]

I’ll let you do anything. I belong to you.

[ the nuzzle that follows is indulgent in its affection, shiro’s face crowding keith’s, completely unconcerned that he’s blocking keith’s sight of where he’s meant to go to get them out of here. ]

So love me and I’ll love you, too.

[ simply said, like it’s easy. like it’s a given. he punctuates the statement with a chaste kiss, close-lipped and sweet. ]

but i am blameless. and also WHY the anon posting im yelling

[marmoron]

[ and just like that, there's a switch that goes off like the countdown to a bomb detonating, but keith doesn't see it. hell, he doesn't really see anything other than shiro at the moment, thanks to the way that his boy crowds the entirety of his vision. looming witth a smile that could light up the sky, keith's heart skips several beats as he holds shiro tight in his arms.

love is a complicated subject -- always has been, and always will be. in his own reality, keith's never found the courage to tell shiro, the real shiro, what he told the clone at the facility. perhaps that's cowardice, but shiro has to know right? if keith didn't love him in some capacity, then there's no way he would have pushed as hard as he did or fought as hard as he did just for a chance to bring shiro home.

not that it matters much now. because love is complicated and the more time keith spends with this shiro, the more he feels something stronger than anything he's ever felt before. not just love, but love as if rendered in the core of the sun.

love me and i'll love you, too.

fuck. it's stated so simply in a way that's so uncharacteristically shiro and keith still don't register that. how can he? arms wrapping tighter around shiro's waist, keith is so entirely engrossed in this moment that he ceases to notice the oddity of being out in the cold with his dick poking out of the newly cut glory hole in his undersuit. heart swelling and overflowing, keith arches up to catch shiro's lips for a brief, impassioned kiss. ]

I love you.

[ murmured against his boyfriend's lips, keith is a little breathless as he says it. warm, tingling, elated and nervous, his entire being is flooded with an overwhelming sense of being alive and so thoroughly whole that he ends up laughing, bright and sunny. ]

I love you so much, Shiro.

[ giddy, he starts to walk towards the cube, not really seeing where the fuck he's going or caring about the abandoned hull of his chest armor. it's a damn near miracle that he doesn't bump into the walls of the cube, though he overestimates the door by a foot and only recognizes the mistake when the scanner beeps and the cell door whooshes open.

still heady with giddy laughter, keith makes the adjustment and steps inside the familiar cube, and makes a beeline for the large bed. ]

I want to love you always. You know that?

[ despite the impatience, keith is careful in setting shiro down on top of the sheets. both hands come up to hold shiro's face, expression adoring as he leans into press another kiss to his lips. ]

You. Not anyone else. Not any other version of you. It has to be you.

dw clearly enjoys keith being anon. dw has been reading our threads.

[earthshine]

[ held in strong arms, kissed by sweet lips, and told that he’s loved in his favorite voice, shiro is over the moon, part dazed by the overwhelming shock of it all. he had warning. keith all but said he was in love with him with that plea for shiro to allow him to. this is so much more, though. it floors him, it winds him, it has him going giddy, because keith is laughing as he keeps reworking those words over and over, restating his devotion until there isn’t a shred of uncertainty between them. shiro can only smile in response, face still right in front of keith’s to stare into those eyes. he has things to say, the obvious being that he loves keith, too; love me and i’ll love you, too, remember? the exchange isn’t that simple, though. shiro’s love isn’t conditional like that; he came to the realization some time earlier and would, hopelessly, love keith regardless of keith’s own feelings on the matter. the fact that keith does love him in the same capacity hits him hard, emotion clogging his throat and striking him mute as keith keeps carrying, keeps moving until the outside world is shut out with the closing of the automatic door.

you know that?

shiro gives one, two nods of his head, smile going shy. truthfully, he doesn’t know that. or didn’t, more like. but now he does and… goodness, isn’t that wonderful? keith’s already spoiled him throughout these years, doing everything in his power to keep their friendship alive – to keep shiro alive. having keith in his life as his best friend is already a gift, but to have this boy fully devoted to him, both in body and heart…?

it isn’t often that shiro looks back on the moments of his life, to thank the universe for leading him through necessary steps to bring him to his current situation. there are reasons to, honestly. his muscular dystrophy diagnosis set such a low bar for everyone’s expectation of him that it fueled an unbeatable drive to excel. the failure of kerberos and exposure to the galra gave him an insider’s knowledge of their enemies. the betrayal of galaxy garrison put four cadets in the desert to find him, as well as the blue lion. the metal arm is ugly and horrific, but it’s useful, making him far more valuable to the team than he would be without it. most days, shiro lacks the mental energy to consciously acknowledge the good in the bad, but here, right now, as keith lies him down on the bed, shiro can see it all with clarity.

every moment of his life, even the painful, half-remembered ones, have led him to keith bending over him to cup his face and press a kiss to his mouth. doctor visits, gladiator matches, space battles, and porn prison sheets have made it possible for keith to fall in love with him and for shiro to fall in love with him in turn. how can he not be grateful to the universe? ]

Yeah.

[ breathless, that’s what shiro is, the word coming out faint and awed. the loop of his arms has unwound, but his hands are still on keith, gripping his shoulders to keep him close. ]

I don’t want to share you with anyone else, not even myself.

[ well, the other version of himself: keith’s shiro. he knows what he said before, what he’s been saying for awhile now, but truthfully, deep down, when he buries beyond the obligation and logic of their situation, shiro holds a desire to remain with this keith. he doesn’t want to start over. he’s not even sure he can. ]

You’ll find a way, won’t you? You’re so good at finding ways to bring us back together.

[ keith defies all expectation. he’s the boy who continually tells the universe to fuck off as he reshapes the trajectory of their lives, just to keep them in each other’s orbit. if anyone can figure it out, keith can. ]

Please. [ a twinge of desperation leeches at his voice. ] I love you. Please… keep me. I can’t be without you.

[marmoron]

[ it'd be an outright lie to say that keith is surprised by the reciprocation. different realities or not, there'd been so much overlap in their shared history that it'd been easy to slip into the mindset that they know each other inside and out all the same. the fact is, it really shouldn't have been easy at all.

his shiro has a head of snow-white hair and a missing right arm. his shiro occasionally stares off into space with a despondent look on his face. his shiro would rather be in pidge's company than in his.

this shiro isn't like that at all. he's from an earlier point in keith's life, and maybe hopefully will go on to have a much kinder future than the one his own shiro got. their relationship in porn prison has been heavily influenced by ridiculous circumstances, but through it all keith's never truly doubted that this shiro cares. love may have been a little bit of wishful thinking, but that was always there, imperceptibly woven into the fabric of their friendship.

because nothing else would make sense of the way they hold each other at night with soft eyes and even softer kisses.

so even if keith can't say he's wholly surprised by hearing those words echoed back at him, he's throughly, completely thrown off guard and winded by the sheer depth of shiro's feelings. the one and only time they'd ever brought up how they felt about each other before had ended with shiro reminding keith of the shiro waiting back in his reality.

the outpouring of honesty lands like a punch to the gut as keith finally, finally understands that it's not just him who has difficulty saying what he wants. it's his best friend and boyfriend, too.

heart aching as he looks down to hold shiro's gaze, keith can't help being a little overwhelmed. he's always wanted the best for shiro, for shiro to be safe and happy and now....? there's a real weight on his back, huh? despite realities and obligations keeping them apart, shiro wants -- no, needs him to find a way to make things work so they can be with each other.

it doesn't matter that keith has no fucking clue how this might be accomplished. hell, it doesn't matter that this might even be impossible. he's brought his shiro back from beyond before ... this, in comparison, has to be doable. has to be because he can't bear the thought of the hope being extinguished from this boy's eyes. ]

I'll find a way.

[ promises like that shouldn't be made when there's no guarantee, but it doesn't matter. keith means every syllable. ]

I promise. As long as it takes, I'll find a way.

[ holding shiro's face in his, keith holds eye contact making sure shiro can see and hear his conviction before leaning down to press their lips together. ]

I love you. And I'll never give up on you.

[ promise sealed with a kiss, keith deepens the kiss with a swipe of his tongue to taste his gorgeous boy. slowly, his hands start coming down, fingers happily splaying in the mess of their combined cum on shiro's chest and dragging it down to his abs and smearing it furhter oto shiro's pants. ...well, his dad's pants. there's a weird joke to be made in that, maybe, considering shiro's latest pet name, but keith spares only a beat to huff before starting to tug the waistband to strip him down further. ]

[earthshine]

[ true. promises like that really shouldn’t be made on a whim, not when there is so little to fill in the emptiness of such a reassurance. the thing is, though, that it isn’t empty, because keith is the one making it. most days, shiro doesn’t believe in much of anything. teamwork, the value of hard work, perseverance, the good of the universe: yes, yes, yes, yes, everything gets a checkmark next to it, not because shiro is genuine in his belief, but because it is necessary that he upkeep the illusion that he does. most days, shiro doesn’t even believe in himself. hard to, when he shuts down at certain stimuli, can’t remember certain things, functions in a torn apart body, has a lion ejecting him into space – the point is, every day is a test of endurance and shiro is doing his best to simply exist.

keith is the exception. if shiro believes in anything, it’s this boy.

so shiro doesn’t balk at the readiness of keith’s words; he simply believes them. it’s the quickest shiro has ever come to calm, all doubt and all second guessing gone quiet in his head as he merely opens his mouth obediently and allows keith to taste him as deeply as he likes. tongue touching his, shiro moans easily and goes pliant, only moving to allow keith room to pull his pants down lower. yes, he wants the clothing gone, because he wants to be bare and open for keith to take him… but this necessitates the kiss being broken, to which he laments with a whine. still, he moves as needed, sitting up on his elbows to watch keith fiddle with the clasps of his boots.

he sighs now, smiling small and looking dreamy with it. ]

That’s my Keith. [ so sure. So dependable. So ready to take on any obstacle. ] My strong, beautiful Keith…

[ he’s languid in the moment, lounging on his arms and watching keith undress him, but soon, shiro sits up further to shrug out of his daddy vest and pull the shirt over his head. to the floor they go, piling close to his now discarded boots. keith’s finishing with his pants and underwear now and once free, shiro leans back into the pillow, dragging one leg up, bending the knee and planting the foot. ]

I didn’t think I could have this. Thought I was too far gone to find love. You make it so easy, though. [ that ceiling pointed knee knocks to the side, fanning out his leg to a forty-five angle and teasingly opening himself up. he exhales a soft, amused sound, smile still lazy. ]

You’re kind of irresistible, you know that?