earthshine | reparacija ic inbox

[ the shuffling steps come to a stop. without looking, keith knows the cot must be behind shiro then, and hazy thoughts that seem to meander aimlessly before inevitably drifting back around to back to the canvas of bare skin and muscle made inaccessible with one flimsy layer of clothing. fingers grip harder around shiro's hips, palms sliding down to encourage shiro's tight pants down his thighs.

progress is once again cut short as strong hands grip his shoulders and force him back. keith startles, and releases shiro's pants only to start reaching up to cup his best friend's face. he blinks, trying to focus, but doesn't get any further than locking eyes and drowning all over again.

amongst other reasons, shiro had always been galaxy garrison's poster boy. handsome face, gorgeous smile and a devastating jawline. keith's seen it all before, but note like this. up close, hands touching shiro's cheeks, away from every reason keith was never supposed to look. a boyfriend turned fiance, a broken off engagement, war,, a clone with murder his eyes. a friendship that keith could never forgive himself for messing up.

hie voice drops down to a whisper, something almost comically awed as he tries to re-close the gap between them. ]

It's just me in here, Shiro. Aphro's not talking. I'm talking. So just sit back and listen.

[ breathing hard, keith pushes forward yet again trying to get shiro settled on the bed. ]

[ so here shiro is, standing with his legs to his shitty cot, the waistband of his pants stretched tight and low enough that he feels it on the beginning crease of his ass. he doesn’t dare let go of keith long enough to fix the fit however. he doesn’t trust the haziness of keith’s gaze or the purring quality of his voice as he leans into the hold of both hands, once again trying to eat up the space between them.

is it bad to find the hands upon his face… nice? it’s intimate in nature, only made softer by the lack of leather. it’s an odd time to think it: that keith isn’t wearing gloves. he hasn’t been the whole time shiro’s been in prison with him but it hasn’t been until now that shiro’s found reason to care. touch warm and fingers curled sweetly, shiro falters for a moment and lets another inch shave off between them, his knees wanting to go weak…

but. ]

No. [ he locks his elbows and keeps what distance is left. ] I can’t have you hating me when you sober up. [ because he would. shiro would hate himself too for taking advantage of keith's trust. keith had been so distressed over his sentencing when they spoke before. he didn’t even want shiro to see him like this and while that part can’t be avoided, shiro can certainly keep this from becoming worse. ]

So just… [ he gives up on worse for the moment and huffs instead, fingers gripping tighter as he manually hauls keith around to switch their positions. with keith’s back facing the bedding now, shiro pushes down until keith cooperates in bending his knees to sit upon the cot. ]

Sit.

[ despite keith's insistence from just moments ago, when its met with resistance and a show of strength on shiro's part, keith goes oddly pliant, allowing shiro to twist them around. keith swallows, cheeks burning a dusky pink as shiro gives his shoulders a solid push down. knees bend and keith does as instructed, sitting on the edge of the cot as he slowly drags his gaze from shiro's eyes down the length of his torso to stop right at his crotch. ]

Oh... [ his tone stays soft, almost dreamy in his slow comprehension. ] You want me to suck you off?

[ now that he's at roughly eye level, the lack of tenting in shiro's pants does seem like a big oversight on his part. his expression turns slightly sheepish then, but he wets his lips and leans forward to try and nose at his best friend's inner thighs. ]

I can do that. Heh. [ fuck, he might even be good at this. not that he'd stuck around long enough to ask the guy at the library but clearly he didn't have any issues getting off. ] Why would I hate you anyway? You'd actually take care of me.

[ it’s a strange juxtaposition of many things happening at once… and yet, nothing going on from shiro himself. or at least, the one reaction he should have doesn’t come to fruition nearly as quickly as it should. the direction of keith’s gaze should tip him off. it doesn’t. the question clears that up, but shiro nearly swallows his own tongue as his throat locks up on surprise, lungs trying to both inhale and exhale at the same time. he sputters unattractively and only grows more tense as keith’s face finds a section of his inner thigh to nose against. stock still, shiro tries and fails to slog through the shock deafening all the warning bells in his head for three, two, one…

his hands abandon keith’s shoulders and go for the hair. curling tight, his fingers knot and then he pulls. the length and feel of the strands wound around his fisted fingers is familiar in a way he can’t place and soon, he doesn’t care to follow that feeling to an answer because then he’s letting go and fretting. ]

Shit.

[ he pets his hair back, as though that will soothe away the roughness of his treatment. that too is abandoned soon enough and afraid that keith may resume, shiro bends his knees and drops down, balancing on the balls of his feet. remorse has his expression going softer, while hastiness to smooth over his actions has honest words slipping free. ]

Yes, of course I would. I’d take care of you.

[ even though he just yanked his hair…? yes. shiro thought of it before in laundry, of how he could – perhaps even should – be among keith’s firsts, just to ease him into feeling comfortable and safe in sharing his body with someone else. he was quick to dismiss it then and now isn’t any different. ]

But not like this. [ he grabs for keith’s hands and holds them in his, resting there along keith’s knees as shiro pointedly doesn’t stare at the tenting in his pants. instead, he stares up into keith’s face, brows knotted and arched high. ] Let me take care of you in a different way.

[ but while shiro trips over his concerns about rough treatment, keith on the other hand lets out a soft moan as his head gets yanked back by the hair, eyes clouded with need as he looks up at shiro's face. neck craning up to bask in the subsequent oetting, keith's voice stays in whispered tones. ]

Okay.

[ it's not okay. keith isn't following shiro's desires at all. one second he wants keith seated, the next shiro has courched down to keep his cock out of reach. but with the way his hands are held captive and shiro looks up at him from the below, keith can't bring himself to upset. confused, yes, but so very far from upset. he gives shiro's hands twin squeezes and smiles. ]

Okay.

[ this time, keith sounds a little more confident as comprehension sets in. grip still tight on shiro's hands, he brings them up higher on his body while widening the spread of his legs. ]

You can take care of my dick first then.

[ oh. he’s cooperating…? daring to hope, shiro’s expression clears and that wrinkled brow relaxes as he, tentatively, breathes out his relief. he matches keith’s smile on the second okay and squeezes right back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. good. good. now all he has to do is make sure keith is as comfortable as he can be as he lounges in his bed. half an hour to an hour, that would be shiro’s estimate on the aphro effects. shiro can keep him entertained with meaningless chatter until then and once keith is clear-eyed again, then… wait… what is he…

the movement of their combined hands isn’t a mere shifting. it’s a dragging. keith pulls his hands upward and god dammit again, surprise halts shiro’s reaction for one, damningly significant moment, just long enough for his knuckles to brush the tenting of those yoga pants. it’s only a whisper of heat and shiro’s cheeks explode with a flush as he yanks his hands out of keith’s hold. ]

Keith. [ bad! ] No.

[ he pushes himself to his feet and stumbles backwards, nearly colliding with his locker. ]

No one’s dicks are being sucked here.

[ keith blinks -- stares more accurately, as shiro rips his hands free and stumbles away like merely touching the tip of his clothed dick burned in some way. keith bites the inside of his lip, unsure of how to proceed as a storm of conflicted emotions grows wild in his head.

shiro isn't interested in his cock. that standalone thought teeters on the cusp of being outright hurtful, but where his dick should be going soft with that thought alone, he stays unrelentingly aroused. swallowing hard like that might keep the disappointment at bay, keith bows his head and stares down at the strain in his pants for an extended beat before looking at shiro inploringly. ]

Fine. You can have my ass then. Is that what you want?

[ the words are out of his mouth, and keith falters before taking any kind of action. he's never offered that to anyone, never thought he would. the thought sits strangely in his head, making him shiver from head to toe just imagining himself bending over this cot, spreading his cheeks for shiro while shiro stuffs him full of cock. again, keith bites his lip, but isn't able to keep a whine held back as his cock twitches and leaves a wet spot on his pants.

keith stands up straight, then turns abruptly, both hands on the waistband of his yoga pants to pull them down his hips before pressing both hands firmly to the cot as bends low.]

Take it. I want you to be the first to take me like that.

[ how is it possible for him to feel guilty for doing the right thing? halting keith’s influenced advances is undoubtedly the correct action to be taking and yet, watching keith pause and stare, before hiding his face with a downward bend has shiro feeling as though he’s done the exact opposite. he feels as though he’s wronged keith. a ridiculous notion, truly. the only way shiro can wrong keith here is by giving into his aphro demands. which he won’t, because it’s not like shiro is tempted. it’s not like he wants. except…

in the next moment, keith’s offering his ass both in words and in action, and as per usual, shiro is dumbfounded, standing there with his mouth softly parted, staring at keith’s bare ass. he should look away, he knows he should, but he keeps on staring, wide-eyed and embarrassingly unblinking. the booty shorts were a tease and not nearly enough to prepare him. voluptuous and round, keith’s ass is, surprisingly, fatty, looking both solid enough to take a beating, yet soft enough to meld under squeezing, coaxing fingers. those of his left twitch at the mere suggestion before promptly squeezing into a fist. ]

I…

[ he trails off, having no idea where that thought was meant to go. keith’s attractive, there’s no shame in acknowledging that under normal circumstances… but these aren’t normal circumstances and instead of him being a supportive best friend wanting to bolster his friend’s self-confidence in pursuing others, shiro is stuck thinking about how keith looks good bent over in his bed and in full offer to him.

he takes a step forward as though he has no control over himself. and maybe he doesn’t, because he feels something else twitch and this time, it’s not his fingers. ]

Keith…

[ when at a loss, saying keith’s name is his go-to. he takes another step and pauses, finally with effort, shifting his gaze from keith’s nakedness to stare at the floor paneling next to the bed. he’s not going to. he’s not tempted. he’s not. just. ]

I… [ that again, huh? he frowns and swallows through the thick feeling in his throat, voice curious and oddly vulnerable. ] You really want that?

[ what feels like an eternity passes between keith bending over on the cot and shiro's next full sentence. he's never been good at reading people to begin with, and in the moment keith has to admit to himself that maybe it's not just other people, but shiro as well. it's true that they haven't been on the same wavelength since bumping into each other in the laundry room, but maybe that's been true for even longer. before pron prison. dating all the way back to that tine they were stranded on that one planet and a dying shiro had told him i want you to lead voltron.

the thought comes and goes, like footprints washed away by the tide as aphro fueld imagination refocuses his priorities. any second now, one of shiro's storng hands will be on his hips, and something hard and solid will be pressed between his asscheeks. keith shivers pathetically as pre runs down the length of his cock.
but any second now stretches out far too long and keith looks over his shoulder anxiously. his best friend has stepped closer, but that space between them is still a fucking chasm. ]

Of course I want that.

[ his reply comes quickly, though marred by the heaviness of his breathing. ]

You're...

[ you're my borther. i love you. keith squeezes his eyes closed, facing forward again abruptly. short circuiting on his own thoughts, he gives himself a mental shake and desperately shoves two fingers in his mouth to wet them. index and middle fingers glistening with spit, keith reaches behind, leaving a saliva trail between his cheeks, breath hitching as he brushes over his hole. ]

You're the only one I trust with this.

Edited (pink virgins) 2022-05-23 03:33 (UTC)

[ of course he wants that. just like of course shiro would take care of him. they say it so freely, like it’s a given that they could fit sex within the carefully constructed boundaries of their friendship, because their friendship is so strong, that not even sex could topple it. shiro isn’t so sure though. shiro knows first hand how strong these alien, aphro concoctions are. they make you forget yourself and do things you would otherwise never do… right? yeah. shiro regrets the library. he doesn’t still think of it and wonder what a second meeting would be like. if the same happened for keith and keith came to in an hour to regret and feel sick and run away from this situation as quickly as shiro had in the library…

shiro feels a little sick himself, because he’s a lech, taking advantage of his best friend in his most vulnerable state. you see, his gaze is drawn to the movement of keith’s hand and shiro can’t bring himself to do the honorable thing of looking away as before. his breath hitches almost in perfect synchronization with keith’s own, eagerly watching the pale softness of keith’s inner cheeks go glossy with spit.

he trusts me, he repeats to himself, and can’t decide what it is he’s feeling. honored? happy? proud? that out of everyone keith has come to know both here and during the gap in their timeline, keith still values shiro above all else. it’s humbling. it’s inspiring. it’s… a little bit of everything for shiro, because shiro trusts keith impeccably and as much as he loves seeing keith become more than the tiny cadet who followed in his footsteps, shiro doesn’t actually want to be left behind. he wants to always be a part of keith’s life; hopefully with the continued title as his most trusted friend.

which is why this is difficult. violate keith’s trust by delivering on what he trusts him to do? or keep keith’s trust by arguing that keith can’t possibly entrust him with this?

he draws a breath, watching the slickness of keith’s index brush at his rim and then exhales: ]

Okay.

[ he already knows he can’t handle keith playing with his hole. so three strides and he’s within distance to grasp keith by the wrist. another two steps and he’s a breath away from brushing the vaguely interested twitch in his pants up against keith’s ass. he almost seems surprised to be there, as though he had no concept for moving and with the brush of their bodies, he pauses and closes his eyes, chin tucked as he draws a steadying breath. one, two and then he reopens, letting go of keith’s wrist in favor of touching his hips to his thighs to his pants…

he grips the waistband and hauls it up, covering keith’s ass. he grips him at the waist now, partly to keep the waistband firmly in place in case other hands get ideas and partly to ground him through the sweetly addictive want that’s playing at his mind and leaving him feeling weak. ]

Then ask me again when the aphro is through your system.

[ if keith still wants it then, when he can think clearly… maybe… – shiro bites his lip and gives keith’s left hip a pat before letting go and taking a cautious backward step. behave, behave, behave… ]

[ fingers catch his wrist and keith moans, urgently pushing his hips back for a taste of friction. frankly there's little the aphro in his system does to blunt his awareness of how new this side of anal is. he's never been one to cower from the new and unexpected -- fuck, he'd never have joined galaxy garrison if he were afraid of new frontiers and all that. but still. space exploration and body exploration are different.... right?

maye, maybe not. but the longer keith dwells on it, the more ridiculous it seems that he's been to entirely different galaxies and realities, but still that barely there probe of his hole is still the first time he's ever touched himself there. the realization is so overwhelmingly stupid that it actually makes him laugh helplessly, part amuse, and partly in self loathing. twenty one years of being alive and because he'd never bothered to try and connect with anyone else, all his choices now in porn prison aren't really choices at all.

his hand goes slack, eyes squeezed shut as shiro drags his pants back up his thighs and covers the most intimate parts of him back up. shiro's last bit of commentary draws out one last stilted bit of laughter before keith gets his consolation pat on the hip and is let go once again. ]

You really think aphro changes how I feel about you?

[ ut;s asked quietly enough, head bowed and eyes boring holes into the cot. was he doped up on aphrodisiac at the clone facility? fuck. he almost starts laughing again, but curbs it by biting down on his lower lip. the fact that he's even asking the question is sign enough that he's not thinking straight, but he turns around and tries to drape himself on shiro with all the certitude of a guy who's convinced he's making sense. ]

C'mon. Take me to bed. Help me. Don't let me go.

[ well… yeah? because up until twenty minutes ago, shiro was off keith’s radar of possible hookups. keith specifically said, he wasn’t ready for shiro to see him like this: aroused and absolutely thirsty for dick. that’s a pretty clear indication that keith, actual keith, not this drugged up version, wants shiro’s dick nowhere near his hole.

he doesn’t even bother to disguise his frown or his sigh as keith drapes himself against him. shiro ought to know better by now and – actually, yes, he’s finally learning, because this is the last straw. he’s gentle at least, when he finds each other keith’s wrists and drags his arms down and away. holding them together in the space he forces between their bodies, shiro looks to keith’s face and musters a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. ]

Okay. You win. [ he brushes the thumb of his left over the pulse point in keith’s wrist and here, his voice rings more honest. ] I’ll help you.

[ just… not in the way keith imagines. he nods behind keith and then catches his gaze once more, letting go of both wrists as he does so. ]

Lie down on the bed. I just need to get something from the locker.

[ keith frowns, shaking his head. try as he might, his amusement is loudand clear when he follows up with: ]

I just said don't let me go.

[he gives his trapped hands a playful wiggle. ]

You're not listening. So gimme a reason I should listen to you.

[ when he looks up to meet shiro's eye, his expression is expectant, lips parted in not-so-subtle anticipation. ]

Seal it with a kiss.

[ god dammit, keith. a few wrinkles appear between his brows as he draws them in, expression turning thoughtful and… pouty, quite honestly, to be called out. shiro is listening and doing his best to appease both impaired keith and what he believes actual keith would want. he’s only given a moment to consider what magical phrase he’s meant to construct in order to get keith to finally, finally follow his orders, because in the next beat, keith throws a figurative hand grenade at him.

surprise smooths out those wrinkles and he blinks hard, eyes opening wider. ]

Uh…

[ but he’s marginally better at recovering from the whiplash. he clamps his mouth shut and finds a more neutral expression, eyes slightly narrowing as he regards keith. gaze to his lips, to his nose, to his left cheek, to his right… and staying there over that scar he’s yet to ask about. will he ever? he's curious, but he’s empathetic to not wanting to discuss scars. afterall, he has a pretty nasty one in the center of his face. he hates it any time someone’s gaze stays there too long…

… and look at that, shiro is still staring at keith’s. his expression twitches, mouth briefly bunching tight together as frustration for himself takes hold… but in the next moment, he pinches keith’s chin and angles his face to turn. he ducks in and presses his lips to his cheek, right below his eye, to the point of that scar. two seconds of pressure and he lets off, straightening back up. ]

Now?

[ believe him? ]

[ .... oh is the single thought in keith's head when shiro pinches his chin. the uptick in his mood doesn't sour necessarily when the kiss doesn't end up exactly where he wanted it, but keith pouts for an extended after shiro pulls away.

hands on his hips, and for once not actually in a frenzy to take off his pants, keith holds the stubborn posture. ]

That's not what I meant.

[ ... and then he snorts, grin softening into a warm smile. a hand comes up to cover up his cheek, self consciously, but the look in his eyes is endeared. the burn scar's long since healed, sensation duller over that part of his face. there's something ... deeper to the idea of shiro being the one to kiss that scar, but whatever complicated feeling it should invoke is sweetened by aphrodisiac. keith looks up, expression moony and wanting. ]

... but you should kiss me there more often. Heh. And then kiss my other cheeks.

[ shiro knows the ones. but just in case, keith turns around, gently bumps his ass to shiro's crotch and then very obdeiently goes to sit on the bed. arms tug his white tank top up over his head, flicking it over the side before lying back with his arms crossed behind his head. ]

[ keith goes sweet faced, and being idiot that shiro is, falls for it. a smile comes to him upon being faced with keith’s obvious delight, feeling something warm and pleasant settle deep within his chest. sure, shiro’d been corralled into giving keith that kiss but shiro isn’t put off as he should be. he quickly finds himself deciding that it wasn’t bad at all, especially when an action so simple can have keith looking like that. seems he completely overlooks the aphrodisiac in the moment; luckily, keith promptly reminds him that the effects are in full swing.

he makes the fatal mistake of rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling, exasperated with that other cheeks comment and not at all interested in it. the inward groan he gives it promptly becomes an actual groan as said cheeks make contact with his crotch. startled, he jerks his head down, leveling it, and openly stares, again, as keith makes himself comfortable on the bed. far too comfortable, honestly.

he looks because how can he not? the last time shiro saw keith shirtless, he’d been a petite thing, with barely there definition. now the muscle is more pronounced. he’d gotten a preview of this before in laundry, but even a wet tank top keeps some modesty and so, shiro finds something new, and somewhat alarming, in the many inches of bare skin. the contours of his chest, the points of his half-dimes, the flatness of his stomach as it leads to a tenting in his pants that keith isn’t at all ashamed of anymore… – shiro clears his throat and twists on his heel to put his back to his best friend. ]

Good. Okay. Stay there.

[ the rambling seems to help him refocus and upon doing so, he crosses over to his locker, opening it up. among other knickknacks acquired here and there, sit the fuzzy handcuffs from that how not to break things class. snatching them up, he closes the locker and makes his way back to keith’s side. this time, he doesn’t stop. this time, he crawls onto the bed himself. settled on his calves, ass seated on his heels, shiro sits next to keith’s hip. the bed isn’t wide at all, so the fit is a tight one with shiro pressed up against him, the toes of his sneakers hanging off the cot’s edge. ]

Yeah? [ he holds up the leopard-printed handcuffs, eyes hopeful. ] Thinking these could be fun? [ a beat; feeling like he needs to sell it, he tacks on a: ] I don’t want you to be tempted to do anything other than lie there and enjoy while I take care of you.

[ it shouldn't be the case that a partial erection winds up being the source of some major vindication, but the shadow impression shiro's cock leaves on his ass is just about the only thing keith is thinking about anymore. is he nervous? of course. but it's an excited kind of anticipation that goes straight to his own aching dick. as shiro comes to sit on the cot beside him, keith rolls to face him, freeing up his one hand to touch the fuzzy handcuffs as they're dangled above his face.

it ought to be terrifying. it's hard enough relinquishing control over his body, the pace, giving shiro free reign to restrict his movements as well is a big ask even accounting for the fact that keith trusts shiro with his life. but aphrodisiac is one hell of a drug and keith is sold, hook line and sinker on the potential that shiro maps out for him.

has anyone ever wanted to take care of him while taking strides to ensure he isn't worried about reciprocation or owed debts? the question lingers, threatens to hurt, before it all smoothes over with a happy twitch of his cock.

carefully, he rolls back on the mattress, both arms held out in offering. ]

Wow. Nobody's ever spoiled me like that.

[ it’s been such a battle to get keith to cooperate that now that he does so by holding out his hands, shiro doesn’t quite believe it. and weirdly? shiro almost wishes the ploy hadn’t been successful. he hates deceiving keith, even if the motive is in keith’s best interest. it wouldn’t be so bad if keith wasn’t looking at him like that: happy and trusting, like shiro just promised him something worthwhile. it makes shiro think of what keith said before. you really think aphro changes how i feel about you. even hazy on a drug, keith trusts him immensely… too bad shiro is about to throw that right back in keith’s face. ]

Yeah, well… [ he heaves a heh and then swallows uncomfortably, opening one cuff, then the other. ] There’s a first time for everything.

[ he secures the cuff around keith’s right wrist and then leans forward to loop the other end through the metal bar of the cot’s frame. he grasps keith’s left and brings it closer to the frame, getting that cuff around his wrist with a resounding click. despite their ridiculous look, the handcuffs aren’t of cheap quality. they proved to be a challenge during that class demo… shiro only hopes that keith is discombobulated enough that he doesn’t immediately trick the locks and uncuff himself. at least not until he’s calmed down some.

for good measure, shiro gives each fuzzy cuff a tug and satisfied that the locks hold, he glances to keith’s face. that silly bit of guilt comes back to him in the moment and feeling himself falter with it, he can’t stop himself from brushing keith’s bangs, touch light and apologetic.

one brush and then he leans back, gaze still on keith’s face. ]

How do they feel?

[ a lot of novelty comes fast and hard here, though keith somehow manages to stay relaxed throughout. in the end, what's there to resist when shiro takes his wrists one by one and cuffs him up? arms bound overhead, keith smiles contentedly, experimentally yanking the chain taut on the cot frame.

this is going to take some getting used to, he thinks, but there's a gentle touch on his face and keith lifts up slightly to chase the brief bit of contact.. it's gone all too quickly though and shiro pulls away, earning him a drawn out whine and a pout. ]

Not as good as you.

[ kicking his legs out to spread them wide, he tips his head back, exposing his neck for shiro. ]

C'mon. Put your mouth on me. I need you.

[ now the hard part, which should be the easy part: do nothing. so, stubbornly set on not caving, shiro dismisses that pout, turns his gaze from that arched neck and literally puts his back to those spreading legs. his own off the edge of the cot now, shiro sits there and works one foot free of his sneaker. ]

Sorry, Keith. I’m not gonna do that.

[ one foot free, now onto the second. all the while, he’s grateful for the excuse not to look at keith; he’s not ready to face the betrayal he’s certain will be there. ]

I’ll keep you company though. It shouldn’t be too much longer before you feel like yourself again. [ hopeful, apologetic, his voice is a strange mixture of light tones. surely sitting together for the next hour chit-chatting is just as good as… whatever keith had going on in his head. ]

You....

[ keith trails off, eyes slowly widening as shiro turns around. the undistilled shock renders keith speechless, mouth gaping as he stares at shiro's back. the silence that comes after is thick enough to choke on. ]

You lied to me?

[ the accusation comes out, but it doesn't actually sound like one. confused, hurt, and wracked with disbelief, keith tries to shake off a sudden horrible image of shiro whirlig back around to say hello, keith in a dangerously low tone of voice.

whatever incredulousness that kept keith mostly still shatters then as he thrasehs and yanks the pulls and pulls at the cot frame, scraping metal on metal. ]

You said you were gonna take care of me! You --

[ teeth grit, keith twists adn knees shiro hard in the back. ]

[ there it is. there’s the broken trust. selfishly, shiro doesn’t immediately turn to keith. instead, he hoards an extra moment for himself, to close his eyes and breathe in deep as his own reassurances pile up in his mind: he’s doing the right thing, keith will understand, this is only a temporary set-back.

that stolen pause is much too long though and it proves to be a mistake when the cot abruptly shifts. bounces? rumbles. the low-quality of the frame-job becomes abundantly clear in just how high-pitch the screeching of metal links is as keith thrashes. shiro knocks his sneakers over, across the floor as he half-turns.

accusations fly and shiro’s defending himself even before keith’s fully finished. ]

I am gonna – augh!

[ … he doesn’t get to finish either, because his fucking spine takes a direct hit. pain shoots up and through him, momentarily knocking the wind out of him as he grits his teeth to weather the brunt of it. frustration spikes next and then he whirls around fully, clamping both hands over keith’s legs, right below his knees to pin them to the bedding. ]

Dammit, Keith! What the hell was that for?

[ if the expectation here is for remorse, shiro is sadly mistaken. keith's long since lost control over his dick and his wandering, easily sex distracted mind, and it turns out that a familiar outlet in rage takes even stupider turns when confronted with a sad reality of not getting laid. ]

For lying to me, asshole!

[ on some deeper level, it's entirely plausible that the betrayal stings more because it comes from shiro, but that's a blip in the radar. all keith knows is that shiro has gone from being an answer to an obstacle to his most pressing problem. he thrashes, kicking out his feet as shiro goes for the pin, knees locking tight around shiro's waist. ]

If you don't wanna fuck me, fine. Let me go, so I can find someone who will.

[ oh. that stung a bit. while expected, it’s been a good while since he was on the receiving end of keith’s ire and so, the sheer amount of rage being funneled in his direction doesn’t roll off his back with a simple assurance of it’s the drug talking. didn’t keith just say the aphro wasn’t strong enough to alter keith’s feelings toward him? this feels a little too real and momentarily, shiro inwardly crumbles at the idea of damaging even the smallest portion of trust and respect held between them.

again, faltering for even a moment is fatal when he’s trying to contain keith and just as before, shiro is swiftly taught a lesson. legs catch him around the waist and in another situation, perhaps he’d laugh at how quickly he’s knocked off his game by keith’s long, very long legs, but instead, he jostles awkwardly on the bed and falls into keith. he catches himself with his hands, but only barely. each palm lies flat against the cot and shiro is half bent over him, blinking wide and staring long as his mind runs to take note of the proximity, the press of something very close to his crotch, and words… very distressing words. ]

No! You said… [ that he only trusts shiro with that. does he not trust him anymore? does that bother shiro? yes. but why? he huffs and pushes himself up, sitting on his knees as he reaches behind, finding keith’s calves to push. ]

No one is fucking you like this. I’m not allowing it.

[ shiro lurches forward, just barely catching himself on his hadns before crushing keith under his weight. where there ought to be an abundance of relief, there's only disappointment to add to his burgeoning sense of betrayal. keith bucks his hips, shuddering through the barest taste of friction against shiro's abs and drops back down the cot with a frustrated noise.

shiro backs away after that, again like he's been burned, and starts trying to free himself from the vice grip keith has around him. it really says a lot that his best friend wants to get away from him this badly. a friend would register that, respect personal space and boundaries. maybe a brother would too. but then again, what part of this is all that brotherly?

keith grits his teeth, matching shiro's desire to be rid of him with all the force he can fucking muster. hell, this is technically easier than holding to a dangling 200 lb dead weight in one hand, isn't it? ]

I offered it to you and you don't even want it! So why the hell can't I get it from someone else? I'm not some kid you have to protect, you know. I wanna get off. So either help me get off or get off me and let me go!

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