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« Shiro »
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Hi, this is Shiro.
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[ 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!

[ well shit, apparently he should have handcuffed his legs too. how does he have them so tightly locked? shiro shouldn’t be all that surprised by the strength of them. he’s seen keith knock the wind out of sendak with one well executed kick and that was back when keith was smaller. trying not to hurt him, shiro doesn’t yank with all his strength and certainly doesn’t utilize his cheats in a certain galra arm. so he’s stuck in this yo-yoing of push-pull, hands sliding down his calves to grasp his ankles instead.

every failed moment of breaking himself loose has them brushing together. with the positioning, keith’s ass is more or less in his lap, meaning… – ignore it. difficult to when there’s weight and warmth nestled against a part of him that is a little more awake than it ought to be. he doesn’t know which part is more damning: that his interest had piqued almost immediately upon seeing keith bent over or that a knee to the back didn’t kill his completely inappropriate, fully unintentional bodily reaction.

keith talking about fucking other dudes sobers that reaction though. panic for both his inability to fully control himself and for the unraveling of their friendship, at least temporarily, has shiro snapping: ]

I said no! [ and he gives into forcing his strength, handling keith rougher as he breaks the tight lock of his ankles. ] It’s not up for discussion.

[ he huffs through the words and grunts by the end, breath sporadic because he’s manually moving those uncooperative legs around, trying to detangle himself. ]

You don’t see it right now, but I’m doing this because I care about you!

[ shiro is strong. keith's known that for a long time now. after all, just how many people have the grit and balls needed to defy an entire military chain of command and go to space with a muscle wasting illness? that defiance is something keith admires intensely about his best friend, but right now that strength is manifesting in a way keith wholly dislikes, shiro is strong physically, too -- the reminder had been burned into his face not too long ago, and though the galra arm isn't lighting up or anything, a part of keith that's more alert is starting to panic.

again, it doesn't quite manifest in a way that makes sense. instead, the aphro warps the fear into something else -- fear that something bad could happen if keith fails to calm shiro down with sex. he cries out sharply when shiro finally prises his legs apart, then flinches at the metallic scrape of the chain keeping his hands overhead. teeth grit, he attempts to twist and lets out a pained hiss when it strains his shoulders unnaturally. ]

How - how is this caring about me? [ he pants heavily, ignoring the burn of his shoulder. ] That doesn't make sense!

[ but then it sort of does? keith's next painful attempt to sit up is cut short by shiro's hands pressing him back down on the cot, weight fully bearing down on his body between the v of his legs. he gasps as air gets knocked out of him, head thrown back on an uncomfortable pillow.. where he'd been snarling seconds ago, keith groans the next, calves winding tight around shiro's ass as he grinds mindless in his enthusiasm. in lieu of having hands, he arches up to snag the shell of shiro's ear in his teeth. ]

C'mon, Shiro. I know you want it. I can feel your cock riding hard up against my ass. You want it, I want it. Fuck me, fill me -- fuck, c'mon, give it to me.

Edited 2022-05-25 02:24 (UTC)

[ ten minutes ago, shiro walked into this cube, confident in his fortitude to sit by and keep keith company as the aphro worked through his system. sit down and relax, isn’t that how he started this? so how did he go from such an innocent request to him pushing nearly all of his weight into the split v of keith’s legs? hands at the backs of keith’s knees and holding down into a stretch that should be too deep, shiro blinks, looking startled as the scene before him – no, underneath him comes into crystal clear focus.

keith’s flexible. that’s not new. the acrobatics this boy pulls off are impressive and awe-inspiring; shiro’s gone toe to toe with him enough times to be familiar with how effortlessly fluid keith is in the movements. as most things today though, this is different. his body bends and everything strains, but keith takes it beautifully, even with the agitated twist at his shoulders. shiro only has the briefest of moments to wonder how much deeper keith’s legs can split when those same legs hit behind him.

shit. not again.

he lets go of his right leg – because what’s the fucking point now? – fully intent on pulling that calf free. keith is faster. keiht’s pelvis angles up and now shiro is the one with breath being slammed free of his lungs. he chokes on spit and goes wide-eyed, very certain that his heart stops for a moment at that initial grind. shiro buckles to the rush of desire that slams into his headspace, only to catch himself instead with his right hand. palm to the cot, he winds up bowed more fully over keith, shivering and twitching all over as the grinding kicks up a notch. it’s messy and embarrassing in its enthusiasm, but it’s addictive too, because those filthy words keith is breathing against his ear? not all of them are untrue.

god, it’s like he’s paralyzed. why isn’t he throwing keith off? this is wrong. this isn’t right. this is a complete violation of trust. he can’t use keith and he can’t let keith use him either. except one beat bleeds into two and keith is groaning something about filling him. shiro clenches metal fingers into the sheet and similarly digs into keith’s leg with the other, not to push away, but to hold steady. he squeezes his eyes shut and falters, slipping into temptation as his body chases that sweet, dirty pleasure by forcing his hips down into the press of keith’s. cock to cock, he feels keith roll against him and shiro chokes on his next breath. ]

Oh… fuck.

[ it's weird to exist in a state of doublethink while also not caring at all for anything more than the throb and pulse of his cock. all of this is wrong because this isn't how him and shiro are meant to be, but if it's so wrong why is shiro lining up their hips and cocks like that? keith rolls his hips, grinding his cock nice and slow against the full, thick bulge between shiro's legs and digs his ankles into the backs of his thighs. ]

Shiro please >... please , put it in. Wanna feel it thick inside.

[ it's moaned between heavy puffs for air in shiro's ear. the whole thing should be weirder than it is. shiro's a good looking guy, of course, but it's not like keith's ever deliberately stolen glances at his best friend coming out of the shower. ever gave much thought to size or girth. best friends don't do that, after all. brothers don't do that. but he grinds and grinds, desperately digging in his heels as he rocks back and forth. the nature of their relationship doesn't matter now and there's a sick kind of freedom in imagining fucking shiro in vivid detail and forcing shiro to imagine it too. an even sicker thrill from knowing it makes shiro firm up like that for him.

there's a very real danger here that this is crossing lines, pushing boundaries that were never meant to be tampered with, but the way pleasure rockets down his spine turns that fear into nothing but white noise. keith moans loud and lewd, breath hitching uncontrollably as his muscles tense up , balls tightening before: ]

Fuck, gonna cum just thinking about it....

[ releasing shiro's ear, keith angles lower, mouth urgently pressed to shiro's neck to stifle a long, deep moan as his cock spills and spills warm slick that runs down his thighs and stains the front of his pants. the vice grip he had around shiro's hips lets up only slightly as keith rocks back on the cot, back flattened against the thin mattress as he takes several mindless breaths. ]

[ that slip turns into a full on crack in his will power. temptation wins and shiro stays, neither pulling away, nor pushing closer, merely keeping position to endure the slow grind of keith’s cock. fuck, it’s everything. destabilizing, addicting, frightening, and so, so good, especially with breath still teasing his ear. shiro’s weak for it. heh, he’s weak for keith. he’s always been weak for keith, just not like this, never like this… and now that he is? he’s stepped too far and he can’t seem to remember how to backtrack, at least not when he’s locked cock to cock, every thought in his head cotton-soft and just as flimsy.

keith’s moaning directly into his ear and now, shiro knows exactly what keith sounds like when he’s overwrought in pleasure, teetering so close to the edge. shiro’s going to have to square with that someday. this is wrong breaks through the haze, but it’s too late. shiro’s still holding onto his leg, still hovering above, and still being the terrible friend that he is as he allows keith to use his body for one last grind. shiro’s throat bobs underneath keith’s mouth as he swallows hard, forcing down his own groan. keith’s shuddering through it; pressed as close as they are, shiro can feel keith spilling through the breakdown of every tense line, hips quivering and legs going lax.

shiro’s still hard. when keith goes boneless into that panting heap, there’s a moment in which shiro’s hips chase after him. a slight rock keeps them together and he’s mindless with the desire to follow through until he’s chased down his orgasm too. but it’s only a moment. without keith at his ear, goading him, even commanding him, shiro is able to think and when he does…? he pushes himself up. ]

You…

[ … came? his cock throbs. he ignores it. he’s sitting up, with keith’s legs strew uselessly, barely keeping shape around him any longer. from here, he has a pretty clear picture of keith sprawled out, lines made longer by the extension of his arms chained to the railing. from his soft-panting mouth to his nipples to his flat belly to the dampness he can see already forming in those thin, yoga pants, shiro’s gaze keeps fluttering around, cataloging everything, despite his well-meaning intentions. ]

We…

[ … did that, actually did that? he draws another breath and opens his mouth to, hopefully, say something more substantial but he’s interrupted. from his tablet set over there on the kiosk, is a noise. a noise that shiro remembers getting after a certain conversation over the network. something on his sentence sheet has been checked off. dread drops down into his stomach and he grimaces. ]

Dammit. [ under his breath and barely there. shiro shakes it off and untangles himself entirely, pushing back on the bed to give himself distance. keith should be sated but just in case. as for saying something substantial? shiro never gets there. he goes mute, trying to rationalize what just happened and barely making ground with it. ]

[ eyes closed and lax against the bed, keith doesn't put up any resistance when shiro untangles himself and marches away. the horrible sound effect from the tablet similarly gets no real reaction or commentary save for a very quiet heh between panted breaths. feeling warm and sticky, keith makes a half-hearted attempt to try and shimmy out of his pants by wiggling his hips down low, but stops when the chains pull taut and his progress gets impeded. pants riding dangerously low, keith lies back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. three beats of silence and then he glances towards shiro. ]

Did you finish too?

[ of course, he isn't patient enough to wait for an answer. keith twists, trying to get a look. whether intentional or not, keith couldn't say but shiro angles his crotch out of sight. curiouser and curiouser. but when another attempt to get closer is blocked by the cuffs, keith ends up murmuring filthy enticements until his lids feel too heavy to stay awake. he falls asleep purring, and isn't sure how much time has passed when he wakes up again.

frankly, there's a part of him that wishes he could stay asleep forever as that'd mean he wouldn't have to come face to face with shiro or deal with any of what happened. denial isn't all that easy when his pants are a sticky congealing mess, but pretending to be asleep only goes as far as needing to pee. too mortified to speak, he tries to flip the locks on his handcuffs without rousing shiro's attention, but the plan goes sideways almost instantly. shiro hasn't actually left the cube -- or maybe he did and came back? keith couldn't say. but sensing the change in keith's conduct, his best friend undoes the handcuffs and then ....

it's awkward.

in fact it's every bit as awkward as keith feared it would be. sure, they've agreed that they're not upset or holding what happened against each other. better yet, shiro doesn't seem keen on avoiding him either. the question of what was said however, doesn't get addressed and keith is feeling far too mortified to even think about the last hour or so. he doesn't manage to keep his head held high or fake some dignity by the time he leaves shiro's cube. if anything, he walks out, head bowed and jacket pressed tight over the front of his pants, for once actually looking like a caught criminal. ]

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