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[earthshine]

« Shiro » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Takashi Shirogane ✦ Voltron: Legendary Defender
RESIDENCE ✦ Emerald District Apartment #51
JOB ✦ Gembond Guardian
GEMBOND ✦ Sapphire

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.

INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA

Comments

no i hate it. just gimme more sheith icons.

[earthshine]

[ the point has been made. they can touch. they can kiss. they can toss up metaphorical middle fingers to malachite and come out of that recklessness unscathed. there’s no reason to drag this out. well, no reason shiro wants to put voice to. good thing his mouth is otherwise occupied then, huh. still, his mind whispers the truths to him and he doesn’t know how to compartmentalize the growing awareness that he likes this. keith’s hands on him, keith’s mouth on him -- his body molds to his just so and they fit together in a way shiro refuses to overanalyze.

this whole thing is backwards anyway. upside down too. it’s a mess of miscommunication and forced expectations, leaving shiro to feel as though he’s lost what little control he’s held. he may be physically anchoring keith to him, but he doesn’t feel like the leader here. are either of them? maybe not, but shiro still thinks keith has the better of him, because keith’s got him ensnared and trailing, hooked on the taste of his mouth. this all boils down to what keith is doing to him and that’s... sobering. there’s that wait again, but then the warning lapses; there’s too much hazy want feeding into the loop for him to draw himself away.

and then there’s his tongue.

all it takes is one tentative brush. keith’s already taken his mouth and shiro offers the rest of it up freely, lips mildly slack, mildly sloppy on the push an’ drag as he touches his tongue to keith’s. he gathers keith closer next, only in the sense that fingers tighten in hair, teasing the wetness out of strands that for once aren’t a tangled mess. another tilt to change the angle and he exhales heavy into the space between their mouths, tongue pressing, swiping --

he feels warm. it’s there in the flush of his cheeks and color across his nose. his head feels stuffy from it, heady too. in the span of two breaths, he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself or keith or the situation as a whole. either way, he can’t say puffing out a breathless moan around the wet sound of their mouths is helping him figure it out any faster. ]

you may get more depending on how this goes pfff

[marmoron]

[ the bump of their tongues sends a tiny electric jolt down the length of keith's spine. he isn't sure what he was expecting -- it's wet, it's a little sloppy because he doesn't know what exactly he's supposed to be doing here and by all accounts this should be exactly as weird as the excited gossiping in the garrison bathrooms had made it sound. words like magical, amazing, fireworks all tossed around far too easily by cadets over something as uninteresting as sharing spit in one of the most invasive ways conceivable.

but this doesn't feel invasive at all. if anything, it comes distressingly close to a couple of terrible cliches about firsts that keith refuses to accept he may be a little susceptible to. he's angry -- he hasn't forgotten that despite shiro's machinations, damn it. fingers dig into shiro's back in some show of force as keith leans a little further into the kiss. whether that should be interpreted as a don't let me go or some roundabout way of saying fuck you while his mouth is occupied is up for debate.

you want a lot of things is what shiro had accused him of in the bathroom. keith well and truly doesn't have any rebuttal for that anymore. it's hard to want when you don't know what you're missing and well... whether keith wants to admit it or not, his entire being feels as though it's splitting into contradictory elements: airy but grounded, warm but not warm enough, safe and yet.. kinda terrified of what'll happen when the kissing stops.

at least the short term solution for that last one seems obvious enough: don't stop kissing. of course, that's not an actual solution at all, but his inner cynic abandons ship, thoughts sputtering into radio static when shiro breathes that soft ah into the kiss.

fuck it. if this is potentially the one and only time keith can have this, then he wants to hoard it all. the way shiro tastes, feels and sounds. it's unfair really -- shiro just has to be incredible in so many ways. heart racing, keith kisses in earnest, each movement an unspoken I want you. maybe that should make him madder, huh? pissed off or not, it just doesn't seem to make a difference.

instead here he is, pushing up onto his toes to get a better angle to kiss. whatever limited self awareness that stokes however, disappears when there's an accidental bump of teeth. it isn't painful, but just jarring enough that keith pulls back. ]

Oh. [ cheeks flushing crimson, keith quickly looks away and mumbles: ] My bad.

this is too much pressure

[earthshine]

[ magical and fireworks -- heh. shiro outgrew soft-sentimentals ages ago. sappy descriptions lost their appeal somewhere around month seven of an extended engagement and severed completely when someone refused to wait. he’s not jaded about intimacy but he’s found it easier to live without it. there are bigger things to worry about, namely purple aliens and an expanding empire. death has only made it easier to let go of any lingering wants or needs and weeks into an unasked resurrection, he’s held onto the delusion that he’s better off alone. well… not alone; he tried that and keith wouldn’t let him damn himself in the name of the greater good. guess keith isn’t going to let him be alone in this aspect either.

it isn’t like that. this doesn’t mean that. however, kissing keith is kickstarting the awareness that he isn’t beyond wanting to share himself with someone. it’s been a long thing coming, really. fucking manna. every evening of set aside time to hold hands has become less an’ less of a chore and more of something to enjoy. throw in every hug held longer than necessary and that one night he settled into keith’s bed, for once sleeping through until morning. it’s been -- nice. wonderful, even. having someone to come home to… there’s something incredibly grounding about knowing there’s that solid presence ready to reach out and hold on the moment he starts to falter. so maybe he’s been thinking about it the wrong way. maybe he hasn’t made himself stronger by denying a deeper connection with someone. so maybe he does need someone back in his life. and by someone, perhaps he really means…

that thought is terrifying. here though, the two of them close, breathing the same air, sharing the same warmth -- it has him thinking it’s exhilarating too. it’s almost like driving a hoverbike straight off a cliff. caution to the wind, it’s horrifying on the first drop, when gravity takes over and adrenaline kicks in. but it’s freeing too. all it takes is getting the timing right and then everything comes together just right to have the hoverbike leveling away from disaster. they’re friends. they’ll always be friends. but maybe they could --

except here, it isn’t leveling out at the last second. here, it’s like slamming face first into an explosion of dirt and sand. there’s hardly any pain to it. it’s just a bad angle that clips wrong but keith pulls back and the collateral damage has shiro losing the thread of his thoughts as everything in him immediately turns toward concern. briefly, that is. as soon as he flutters his eyes open and has keith coming into sharp focus, that concern for chipped teeth broadens for the more general oh shit, what did they just finish doing?

forget kissing. he made out with keith. that on top of what he’d just been thinking…

talk about getting caught up in the moment. the excuse doesn’t sit quite right but shiro barrels on before he can analyze every which way it fits wrong. ]

It’s -- fine.

[ the pause in-between doesn’t help his cause. he pulls in a lungful of air, feeling the slightest bit winded -- from kissing, from panic, from surprise… one of those. all of those? either way, he can feel the tension knotting in his shoulders and he tries to expel it with the following exhale. staring at keith’s carefully averted gaze and reddening face is difficult but what’s downright lethal is the way his gaze drops to the fullness of a ruddy mouth that’s a little wet and a little ruined.

ah, fuck.

he forces his gaze toward the ceiling and distracted on trying not to think about the obvious, he tongues at the tooth that suffered the brunt of keith’s miscalculation. two seconds in and he thinks tongue and more specifically, where it had just been. abruptly, he hides his tongue behind his teeth and looks back to keith with a half-hysteric smile that’s only barely winced. ]

No, uh. [ pause. try again. ] No harm done?

[ why the hell is that coming out as a question? and why hasn’t he realized he still has a hand in keith’s hair and a hand around his waist? detangling would be a good idea right about now… if he wasn’t a moron with a slow moving brain, that is. ]

[marmoron]

[ it doesn't feel remotely fine actually. especially now that the unsettling flusteredness has finally hit keith upside the head. heat climbs up all the way to the tips of his ears, heart practically tripping over its own erratic rhythm. desperate to find some composure, keith presses his lips together like that might make the residual tingle from the heat of shiro's mouth fade. it doesn't.

god, he botched this one pretty badly huh? but that begs the question of why it should even matter if shiro thinks he's awful at kissing. the obvious, defiant answer is that it doesn't matter in the slightest. the point, insofar that there was ever a point, was to prove shiro wrong and well -- mission accomplished??

keith peeks up very cautiously, ready to look away again if shiro happens to be looking at him. mercifully, shiro seems to be preoccupied with the ceiling, but it dawns on keith a beat later that this skittishness is familiar and not in a good way. shit, all that's missing is some giggling behind hands and he'd fit right in with all the other cadets making goo goo eyes over a crush.

wait, no. no that's not a train of thought he wants to entertain while their arms are still wound around each other like this. but then... he doesn't not want to be bundled up like this either. especially while shiro's smiling in that relatable awkward way and that look he hated so much from before is gone. ]

...oh.

[ the syllable is faint, breathed out on a soft exhale that's almost on the verge of a nervous laugh. he won't giggle, damn it. but as flushed as he still is, he relaxes a little, slowly dragging his hand down from shiro's cheek to press the corner of that smile with his thumb. maybe the embarrassment is alright if it means he gets to look at shiro like this for a little bit. there's more that he should say to this, so much more than he knows how to put words to, but he lowers his gaze, leaning into hide a smile of his own in shiro's shoulder. ]

Good thing you're made of tough stuff then.

[earthshine]

[ he doesn’t feel tough. strange, because he knows what he looks like to everyone else. he’s the record-breaking pilot who survived gladiator pits, amputation and experimentation, only to somehow pull himself together to spearhead the resistance and win back the black lion from zarkon’s meddling. not many people would survive that. heh, he didn’t either in the end. still the point stands -- his stubborn will to do what needs to be done is what has carried him through all these years. so is he tough? he supposes. but as it always seems to be the case when keith is involved, shiro’s carefully constructed perceptions tilt and take on different meanings.

give him a physical hurdle to throw himself over or lay out xyz for him to pick apart an’ formulate an attack plan around. that’s easy. mentally, emotionally dragging down his defenses though, he’s never been well-suited for honesty when it comes to himself. this here is about being open to the idea, no the fact that he wants something. something from keith. with keith? hell, he can’t even get the wording right; he’s backpedaling in his own head and it just strengthens the argument that he’s so far from tough in this situation.

unlike keith.

he’s kind of inspiring in that way. the thought holds as shiro relaxes in slow increments and sags more comfortably from the straight-rod fluster a moment ago. his hands keep as they are and he swallows audibly, mentally bolstering some levity so that it -- hopefully -- comes out in his voice. ]

Have to be.

[ it doesn’t quite hit the mark. there’s a hint of emotion in his voice, one that drags the usual, steady timber lower, adding a strained sort of hoarseness to it. keith is just -- he’s the tough one. the brave one. the one who can endure any situation thrown at him, whether that’s by design of an alien empire, a petulant god or shiro’s long trailing baggage. keith’s reckless, sure, but he’s strong in his daring nature and sometimes shiro thinks that somewhere along the way, he stopped being the teacher. more and more, shiro finds himself learning how to be more than the broken soldier he became, all of which is largely due to keith’s guidance and support in his unending campaign rightfully dubbed stop shiro from being a self-destructive moron.

amusement follows that thought. faint as it is, it still helps settle his nerves and he tips his head, resting his cheek on that mop of hair. briefly, he closes his eyes, holding onto the feeling just as he continues to hold onto keith. ]

I’ve gotta keep up with you.

[ better. that comes out lighter. happier. he doesn’t keep clinging to it though. eyes open and head lifts off keith’s. then he gives keith’s lower back a gentle, parting pat before resting his palm loosely at his waist. as for the hand in keith’s hair? it’s found its way to his rear delt, pressure light, neither pushing away nor keeping keith there against him. ]

[marmoron]

[ there's probably something about the fact that keith is entirely contented to stay this way that warrants some reflection, but the complacent lull doesn't last long enough for his thoughts to drift towards introspection of that nature.

i've gotta keep up with you. it's stated with such disarming levity that it'd be easy to let it drift past with the current of the conversation, but it sticks out just enough that it gently bumps keith from his more incredulous yet pleased state of mind.

the phrase doesn't sound right at all. from the very start, shiro's always been the one with the accolades, the feats, the golden reputation. the list of incredible things that shiro's accomplished has only grown even more daunting since the day they met. certainly, they've far outstripped the days when shiro could render keith speechless with jaw dropping awe over pulling off a stunt like cliff diving on a hoverbike.

but of course, shiro is far more than what he's able to do or what he's able to give. the person behind it all is ... frustrating, stubborn, exasperating, yes. far more so than keith had previously imagined. all the same, keith huffs in amusement as both hands shift to more loosely cradle shiro's torso. ]

Okay. I'll pump the brakes. Just for you, big guy.

[ he looks up, still smiling on the playful tease. no attempt to pull further apart is made, but there isn't any clinging either. it's weird to hear shiro suggesting he's the one doing the chasing now, but it makes the spot behind his ribs feel just a little fuller. and to think, no stolent cars were involved this time. ]

[earthshine]

[ big guy. big. guy. he thinks, maybe, if this were the first time, it wouldn’t amount to anything. just another throwaway tease between friends, right? similar to old-timer or any other title keith hits him with when he’s feeling particularly cocky. but there’s less than an hour of history tied to those two words and shiro abruptly tenses. that loose grip at keith’s waist? not anymore. fingers flex and he holds tighter, although it’s nowhere near anything able to cause pain. that in itself is an obvious tell that keith’s hit something, but the most damning is shiro’s face.

eyes rounding, lips parting -- surprise flickers across his expression and the fluster follows swiftly behind. he’s hardly had any time to recover from the heat that filled him when keith’s mouth was on his, so it doesn’t take much for it to come back full force. again, it touches his cheeks and his nose, the scar etched across standing in bright contrast. self-preservation is always a slow moving thing with him and so, it’s only after a long, pointed delay of staring at keith’s sweet smile an’ tease-lit eyes that shiro remembers himself.

hide would be optimal. he does a half-ass job of it though. he merely ducks his face and inwardly squirms on the fluttery, dumb feeling running rampent somewhere between his chest an’ gut. this is three times now. first, keith had been coaxing him toward a shared shower. second, it had followed a teasing urge to be good. before, shiro said he liked being called it and here, he finds he still likes it, clear-headed an’ all. it makes him wonder -- would keith like the affectionate name shiro gave him back in the bathroom too?

baby. that’s… not something friends say to each other at all.

he’s likely imagining it, but his face feels warmer in the span of one beat to the next. still, even though he’s rivaling the color of keith’s godawful jacket, that fluttery feeling is pleasant in its sweetness. it has him smiling despite all his reservations. soft and even a little shy, the smile stays and shiro glances up, peeking at keith from under lowered lashes. ]

You, willingly slowing down? [ there’s the answering tease in his voice. the beat that follows is punctuated by shiro briefly gnawing on his bottom lip, part out of indecision. you must really like me is the follow-up that’s on the tip of his tongue but… considering what just happened not five minutes ago, that’s… unfitting? insensitive? crossing a line? in the end, it doesn’t matter. instead of shiro’s voice picking up, there’s an annoyed meow from below.

shiro loses his train of thought and the shy expression on a hard blink as he looks to the floor to find the cat. all of a sudden, it seems to dawn on him that they’re standing in the middle of their apartment, hoarding each other’s space with full-body presses and unwavering grips. another meow and an accompanying tug of claws at his boot buckles has shiro finally releasing an’ pulling back from keith. he clears his throat as he goes and settles into a safer smile that reads friendly, rather than… whatever he’d been feeling ten seconds ago. ]

Call me a skeptic. [ detangled and free, he ignores how that airy feeling softens on misplaced disappointment. him crouching down to smooth his hand over the cat’s head helps though. ] But I’ll believe it when I see it.

[marmoron]

[ .... oh. oh what the hell is this precious reaction? an eyeroll or a playful shove and retort had been the expectation here, not shiro's metamorphosis into the most adorably flustered guy keith has ever seen. so shiro likes being called that after all, huh? that's a dangerous tug at the lid of pandora's box, now that keith has to wonder if other things said in the bathroom were true, but that's something to mull over in the future.

for now, the smile on his face turns mischievous, though he's torn somewhere between wanting to cup shiro's flushed cheeks and more teasing. either option is easier than addressing how stupidly easily it seems shiro is able to make keith feel just a touch giddy.

but then....

cat.

keith looks down at the grumpy interloper. for a beat, their expressions match damn near perfectly, though it's not like keith can really stay annoyed with the kitten. he steps back, shaking his head. ]

I thought you said the plan was to "listen to Keith and stop being a moron?"

[ he huffs, amused, then turns towards the couch where he takes a seat and pulls out his phone. ]

But maybe the kitten's right. We should all eat something. Let's get something delivered.

[ since uh... going outside again while it's bananas from powder shenanigans? yeah... no. ]