And in hypnotic scenes

by slimerencek

Summary:

When Shiro wakes up in Keith's body, he can't shake the thought of all the possibilities that having Keith like this could entail...

Chapter 1

When Shiro eventually retires to his room that night, he knows what he’s about to subject himself to. Or rather Keith to.

The lights are dim. They usually are at such a late hour. And Shiro’s spent the last few in the training rooms trying to exhaust the tension out of his body, distracting himself from the dangerous solitude of his own quarters. But as he took on bot after bot in the training rooms, all that occupied Shiro's mind was awe at the compact, whipcord strength entwined in Keith’s limbs, and his seemingly limitless flexibility.

The shower that followed was perfunctory. He washed off Keith’s sweat and kept his eyes fixed on a cracked tile the whole time. Keith deserved better than to be hurriedly appraised in a public locker room. No, Keith deserved to be savoured.

Above all, Keith certainly deserves better than him… Shiro, Captain Takashi Shirogane of The Atlas, Earth’s mightiest hero and the one of the best pilots the Galaxy Garrison has ever produced. A mentor, a best friend, a brother. God.

He vividly remembers what it was like waking up this morning feeling too big for his bones, with black hair tickling his nose and feet that no longer came close to hanging off the edge of the bed.

How as the initial shock wore off, he dashed out of his room in search of Keith, but instead found himself barrelling into Lance, who suddenly demanded where Keith was rushing off to – sneaking out of Shiro’s room so early in the morning, wearing Shiro’s clothes.

As if waking up in his best friend’s body wasn’t enough of a mindfuck, seeing his own body inhabited by Keith in a shirt that was literally tearing at the seams was by far one of the most bizarre experiences Shiro has ever been subjected to.

And Shiro hated himself for the corrupted thoughts that lingered his mind all throughout the day. Even with everything Shiro’s gone through, the universe always outdoes itself trying to figure out new ways to torture him.

But now Shiro’s faced with the inevitability of it all as he looks into the mirror, with deep, purple eyes staring right back. He knows it’s wrong, and he wishes he was a better man. But even he has his limits, and he’s been stretched thin for far too many years now. He’s just had Keith fucking handed over to him, on a silver platter, and he’s still supposed to play nice? To live up to his reputable name? Even in the dark, where no one will ever find out that — God forbid — he has one moment of weakness…

Shiro lets himself look. Admires the thickness of Keith’s lashes, the elegant slope to his nose and pronounced cupid’s bow. He reaches up with dainty, deadly fingers and drags it through strands of dark hair. He commits every fleck in his irises to memory. Counts the barely noticeable freckles on his pale skin. He follows the long lines of his neck, the ridge of his Adam’s apple, the hollows made by his clavicle. Keith is beautiful. Well and truly the most beautiful person Shiro’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. A body like his deserves to be worshipped. In a way, Shiro is simply giving Keith what he’s due.

Beyond that, the rest of him is hidden away by Shiro’s black t-shirt that’s practically hanging off Keith’s slim frame. Shiro doesn’t think as he peels it off.

He’s seen Keith shirtless plenty of times. Changing rooms… treating wounds… they’ve even sparred shirtless so many times. But when has he ever had the chance to just look? To feel…?

Keith’s hardly anything compared to Shiro when it comes to muscle mass. Shiro is all bulk and rippling muscle, Keith is taut and long lines. The dim lights cast shadows in the ridges of his abs and the taper of his waist. Shiro strokes up the sides of his torso, imagines how small Keith would feel in Shiro’s own hands, and flicks his thumb over a dusty pink nipple—

Shiro gasps suddenly, breath caught in his throat. Keith’s sensitive here.

He does it again. Only this time, he twists the nub ever so slightly – just enough to elicit the slightest spark of pain. It has him tossing his head back with a low groan that he’s never heard from Keith before.

This is dangerous. What is Shiro supposed to do with this information now? When they inevitably do get swapped back into their own bodies, how is Shiro supposed to act knowing that Keith could probably come just by playing with his nipples alone?

It’s only then he notices how hard he is. Even the massive sweats he has on doesn’t hide it.

Fingers trace the edge of the waistband. He knows he’s not wearing any underwear. Is he really going to do this? This feels like a turning point. Shiro could back out now.

But he’s achingly hard and his heart is beating furiously. The flush that paints Keith’s cheeks makes him look so desperate for it. And Shiro’s never been good at denying Keith anything.

He bites his lip and shrugs them off. And as even a blind person could’ve guessed, Keith is a marvel naked. That blades suit didn’t exactly hide much, but unwrapping Keith’s long, long legs still has him spiralling. Shiro swallows thickly as he takes his best friend in. His cock, like the rest of him, is slim and long, tinged ever so slightly purple. And he’s so fucking wet— Shiro immediately wants him in his mouth.

When he wraps his hand around himself he isn’t prepared for the way his knees buckle, the low whine that slips past his lips. Is it normal for the galra to be this sensitive? Is it maybe a quintessence thing? Or is this heightened sensitivity simply another irresistible facet of purely Keith?

Or maybe… maybe Keith is just inexperienced.

Shiro doesn’t remember being this responsive even when he was a teenager, but it forms part of it, right? But Keith’s certainly not a teenager – something Shiro’s noticed for a long time now. As he slowly starts to move his hand, twisting ever so slightly every time he reaches the head, the pleasure is nearly too overwhelming.

Has Keith ever let anyone else touch him like this? His gut twists sharply even at the thought of it. Keith has always been stunning; he probably has a long list of suitors lined up for him at any moment. And Shiro has no claim over Keith that would stop anyone from getting their unworthy hands on his body. There has had to have been sometime in the Garrison, or the Blades. Or maybe even now since they landed on Earth… How far would he have gone with them?

Mesmerised with the way Keith’s stomach tremble with ecstasy as he tightens his fist, Shiro thinks he knows the answer. But if Keith really is a virgin, then what the hell is Shiro doing using him like this?

Keith is probably saving himself for someone special. It should be enough to snap him out of it, but the idea of staking his claim – that he’s the one to truly have Keith first unbeknownst to whatever inadequate person he ends up with only galvanises his resolve.

Molten desire fills his gut, fluttering at the possibility of how much Shiro could actually have. He briefly wonders if Keith has ever been filled before… and once the thought flickers in his mind, it’s suddenly all he can latch on to.

He could do it. He has lube hidden away in his drawer. He could make Keith feel so good. And he’s already gone this far, no one will ever know…

Shiro doesn’t even try to put up a fight anymore. With one last, long look, he drags his gaze away from Keith’s half-lidded eyes and slack jaw, reaches into the bedside table and makes himself comfortable on top of the sheets.

With the lube thoroughly coating his fingers he reaches between spread open legs, ignoring his cock and trailing over his perineum before he finds his hole. He circles it slightly – once, twice – before taking a shuddering breath and pressing one of his fingers in and in.

Shiro can’t help but let out a luxurious, drawn-out moan, ringing with nothing but pure filth in his own ears. Fuck, fuck, he’s only got one finger in and the yearning need to be filled is innate and bone deep. He needs a cock. This won’t ever be enough. Shiro fears he won’t be satisfied until he gets one and if he could spare a thought beyond his urge to be fucked, he’d wonder how Keith was spending his whole life feeling so empty all the time.

Keith is incredibly tight, and Shiro gets the second finger in too quickly – too desperately. But the burn that accompanies it is wholly welcome when as he starts scissoring his fingers wider, stretching Keith whilst teetering on the edge of too rough. The third is in not long after, knuckle deep but only just shy on grazing against his prostate. Shiro could make Keith scream, would cause his voice to go hoarse in the way he loves so much if he was in his own body. Poor Keith probably doesn’t even know what he’s missing, with his fingers too short.

It’s good, still. It’s so, so good but also not enough. Even as he starts fucking himself on his fingers, the squelch of lube and Keith’s panting echoing within his quarters, he only stays on the precipice of something mind-blowing. It’s not until he reaches down with his other hand and frantically jerks himself off he feels it start to break, coiling so intensely in his core before it snaps and his back arches with an orgasm that lasts so long it leaves him dizzy.

Shiro’s still panting as he blinks open his eyes a few moments after. The lights are a blur and his mind is caught in a haze. He waits for the reality of what he just did to crash over him, but it never comes. Instead, he merely winces as he slides his fingers out of Keith’s thoroughly stretched hole – no doubt an ache he’ll be feeling for the next few days – before he lazily wipes off the come with a tissue, and then is immediately out like a light.

With unburdened bliss, he falls asleep and dreams of nothing.

Chapter 2

The world doesn’t just stand still for people like Shiro and Keith. Not when Earth is no longer at war. Not when they’re not at risk of imminent death. Not even when they’ve been transplanted into different bodies.

Iverson had been shocked into a stupor as he processed their dilemma. It took an awful lot of convincing on their part to prove that this wasn’t some elaborate prank – which, yes, is completely understandable. Though that doesn’t stop the prickle of annoyance that flares within Shiro, knowing that Iverson still has his reservations about the two of them.

In the end, it had been Coran who had pulled through with his genius. It had only taken him a day to figure out that the switch was down to melding of the Black Lion’s paladins, who now graciously welcomes Shiro back as a pilot alongside Keith. Shiro has the Atlas now, and he loves her dearly, but reconnecting with Black still caused him to well up with tears as Keith buried him in a crushing hug.

The day had been so busy that Shiro didn’t have time to even dwell upon last night. Unsurprisingly, an endless stream of paperwork and mind-numbing meetings will do that to someone. And that’s all whilst repeatedly explaining to every crew member he came across that he was, in fact, still Shiro. And that he was just momentarily inhabiting Keith’s body.

But that’s all about to come to an end. Standing here now in one of the two glowing teal cubicles Coran and Pidge had fashioned (and Allura infused with Altean energy), Shiro begins to mourn the loss of the gorgeous skin he's found himself in.

“Alright. Shiro, Keith, good luck,” Coran tinny voice announces through the intercom. He’s positioned behind the window of the lab, wearing a ridiculous pair of blackened goggles over his eyes. “Switch back happening in 3… 2… 1…”

Shiro clenches his eyes shut as the light becomes blinding. A seizing pressure threatens to crush his ribs and there’s an excruciating pain for a split second before it suddenly ceases and steals his breath with it.

But then it fades, and his eyes flutter open. Just like that, they’re back to normal.

Shiro’s now stood within the cubicle on the left. Sure, he may have no fucking idea how he got there, but that’s neither here nor there.

It’s done seamlessly, but readjusting to his own size and returning to his lingering shoulder pain is still jarring. Regardless, Shiro stretches his limbs and throws Coran a grateful grin.

“It worked!” Shiro exclaims elatedly. Who knows where any of them would be without Coran, honestly? Probably stuck pining in his best friend’s body forever until the Black Lion finally takes mercy on him.

After Coran frees them, vets them about how many fingers they have on each hand, and breathes his own sigh of relief, only then does Shiro realise that Keith remains awfully quiet.

Keith has a faraway look in eyes, a deliberating furrow etched into his brow. It’s unlike him to be so distant around Shiro.

“You okay, buddy?” Shiro asks.

He’s not trying to hide the concern laced in his voice. This is not some small feat they’ve just been subjected to, Shiro thinks with gnawing dread. Something could’ve so easily gone wrong with the switch.

When Keith doesn’t respond, Shiro’s about to suggest that maybe they should head to med-bay, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder when Keith suddenly darts his gaze at him.

His eyes are wide, frantically flickering across Shiro’s face.

“Keith.” presses Shiro urgently.

Keith abruptly shrugs Shiro off.

“We need to talk,” Keith snaps. “In private.”

Shiro blinks at his clipped tone. He knows there’s no room for argument there. “Okay, Keith.”

Surprisingly, they head straight past Keith’s own room. Shiro desperately longs to know what’s going through his head. He’s… not pleased, that’s for sure, but It’s difficult to get an exact read on Keith like this. His stiff shoulders and terse steps reminding him of the once misunderstood kid who only knew how to express his feelings through his fists. Shiro’s doused in a sudden wave of nostalgia as he follows the sullen, raven-haired boy – who’s always resided in such a special place in his heart – through passageways filled with cadets clad in orange and grey.

Shiro’s so torn trying to figure out why Keith seems so disgruntled that he doesn’t even realise Keith’s led them to his own captain’s quarters until they get there.

An easy way out, Shiro figures.

But he’s never known Keith is run away from anything – let alone from Shiro. Hell, he didn’t even run when he ought to have, back when Shiro had a searing, wicked blade for an arm and tried everything within his power to put an end to Keith in that crumbling facility.

The fact that Keith’s being cautious enough to give himself a chance to flee if he needs it twists Shiro’s stomach into knots. And as Keith stoically places his palm on the scanner, allowing the door to open with a hiss and steps aside to let Shiro in first, Shiro can’t help but to feel cornered on his own ship.

Shiro enters as if he’s just stepped into the gallows.

And the door has barely slid shut before Keith slams him up against it. His forearm digs hard into his sternum. With sclera galra gold, and irises a stunning, incandescent storm.

“What the fuck, Shiro?” snarls Keith, his voice low and furious.

Shiro doesn’t try to break free. He’s had the wind knocked out of him and is arrested into place by a piercing glare that he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“What? Not gonna say anything?” Keith growls, pressing harder as his features twist into a beautiful scowl. “Just gonna stand there and look all oblivious?”

Shiro vehemently shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Keith laughs cruelly. “Don’t play dumb with me, Shiro.”

“I promise I’m not.”

When Keith doesn’t say anything, Shiro continues. “If something didn’t go right with the switch, you need to tell me. We need to tell Coran. We could easily be way in over our heads here—”

“Absolutely something didn’t go right with the fucking switch,” Keith grits out between sharpened canines. “I came back to my body wet and stretched open.”

Shiro blinks, not processing the words. “I— what?”

Keith hauls him forwards only to roughly shove him back against the door. It reverberates through his bones. His face is so close that Shiro can feel his breath on his mouth. “I know what you did to me, Shiro. I can feel what you did you to me.”

Shiro’s veins turn to ice.

“Keith, I’m so— I never meant—”

“Never meant what, Shiro? Never meant for me to find out?”

Fuck, fuck, how could he be so stupid? Shiro’s stunned into a stupor by the murder in Keith’s eyes – his best friend’s eyes – and Shiro knows he truly deserves what’s inevitably about to come next.

He knew what he did was wrong. He knew it was wrong while he was doing it. He knew it was wrong even in the moments leading up to it.

Keith’s right. It’s not like Shiro never meant to use Keith like this, an astronomical and sickening violation of his trust - because he did use him. Keith’s right. He only never meant for anyone to find out.

“Well fucking say something then!” Keith exclaims lividly, his fangs so close to his face Shiro wouldn’t be surprised if Keith strikes him down right here. “I’m sure you weren’t this shy when you were opening me up last night, huh?”

Shiro scrambles his mind for something, anything. “No I— Keith I’m so sorry. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I just had to know,” Shiro admits quietly.

As soon as the confession is out his mouth, he knows he’s done for.

Somehow, Keith looks even more furious. Unflinching with a more deadly, silent type of wrath that Shiro can practically feel radiating from him.

Keith harshly pushes off him, releasing his hold to pace the room with clenched fists. He somehow manages to make Shiro’s expansive living space feel like a shoebox, and Shiro doesn’t dare to even move a muscle.

Then, he suddenly pauses. His back to Shiro as he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“So, was I just supposed to be your dirty little secret?” Keith starts lowly. He turns around and glares Shiro down from across the room. “Did you have your fun with me then? Did you get it out of your system? Use me once thinking no one would know, so you could finally move on?”

“Keith, I am so, so sorry,” Shiro pleads, horrified with himself. He longs to close the distance between them. To seize Keith by the shoulders and beg for his forgiveness. He can’t even imagine a universe where he might lose Keith. “I wasn’t thinking at the time, it’s- I’m no good for you. If- if you want to hit me or never speak to me again- Keith, I get it.”

But Keith merely shakes his head, hardly even listening to Shiro’s rambling.

“I don’t think it’s fair.”

“Keith—"

Keith’s eyes flash as he stalks forward and suddenly closes the distance between them once again, his fingers winding tight around his collar.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you stayed up all night, playing with my body. Whilst I stayed up all night, trying to stop myself from doing the same.”

Shiro inhales sharply.

“But knowing you did… you, of all people? Fuck… what did you do?”

“Keith…”

“What did you do to me when you had me all to yourself?” Keith whispers as he leans closer, swallowing thickly. His voice is all gravel as he commands, “I want you to show me.”

Shiro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Keith yanks down on his jacket and kisses him hard.

Gasping, Shiro’s mouth falls open and gives entry to Keith’s demanding tongue. The kiss is messy and wet, but oh so good until—

Keith pulls away suddenly. “What? Not gonna play along? I know you want me.”

This is all wrong, Shiro’s mind blares. This is too fast. They should talk about this.

But then Keith takes Shiro’s big, big hands and guides them to his own tiny, tiny waist and Shiro, once again, is overcome by a moment of weakness.

Shiro squeezes, savouring the way his fingers meet around the middle, before using his grip as leverage to flip their positions and swiftly pin Keith against the door instead. He wastes no time before diving into another dizzying kiss, plundering Keith’s mouth and growing impossibly hard at the way Keith’s sharpened teeth prick against his lips.

Keith’s arms fly up to wind around his neck and is apparently incapable of stopping the most desperate of whines from slipping past his lips. God, it reminds Shiro of how inexperienced Keith is. For all his bravado tonight, could this be the first time he’s ever even kissed someone? Keith is a flame and Shiro’s blood is gasoline, the thought of being his first anything ignites Shiro’s entire body. Ablaze, he snatches up both of Keith’s wrists with just his prosthetic hand and pins them above his head.

He knocks Keith’s legs wide open with his foot, pressing an insistent thigh between the gap until he can feel Keith achingly hard against him. It causes Keith to gasp, his eyes fluttering shut as he arches his back and grinds into the contact.

But Shiro still has his flesh hand at his waist and keeps Keith’s hips pressed unyieldingly against the door.

“Okay, baby,” Shiro murmurs, pulling away from Keith’s reddened mouth to bite the sharp curve of his jaw. “I’ll show you.”

It’s been a while since Shiro’s done anything even remotely similar to sex. But he’s fuelled with so many years’ worth of wet dreams and repressed fantasies starring no one other than gorgeous, trembling man pinned against him, that being intimate with someone else once again is nowhere near as daunting as it would’ve seemed.

Instead, Shiro feels powerful as he tightens his grip around his wrists, mouthing along Keith’s slender neck where he can feel his bounding pulse under his tongue.

Last night, he had his chance to look and feel. But only now does he get to taste all the tantalising skin put up on offer for him.

He wants to paint Keith red and purple. Shiro digs his teeth into the hollow of his clavicle and sucks. He wants to leave bruises like a collage on the canvas of Keith’s pretty, pale skin. He wants the evidence of tonight to linger for days, the way that masterpieces last through centuries – faded, but never forgotten. He wants Keith to look into a mirror, marvel the artwork within its reflection, and remember who he belongs to.

“Shit…” Keith sighs, further craning his neck.

The noises he manages to draw from Keith are music to his ears, and Shiro can’t help but revel in its melody. He presses a secret smile into his skin. No one besides Shiro will even know that Keith Kogane turns to putty just by having his neck kissed.

But then Shiro is quickly reminded his discovery last night. He pulls back with a promise in his eyes as grabs the hem of Keith’s (Shiro’s) shirt and yanks it off.

He takes a step back to admire Keith in his own skin. Keith stands a little taller under his scrutiny, unashamed and unshy. Shiro smooths his hands down the side of his arms and the slopes of his chest, adoring the trail of goosebumps that follows the path. He can feel the fluttering of Keith’s heartbeat as his thumbs trace the lines of his pecs, the soft sigh he releases as he presses a gentle kiss right over his heart.

Keith’s breathing is a little erratic, but he’s still all too pliant beneath Shiro’s touch. He’s so open. So trusting. Shiro thinks it’s too naïve of him. Whilst he will never give up on Keith, after last night he wouldn’t be blindsighted if Keith gave up on him.

Without warning, Shiro leans down and takes one of Keith’s nipples into his mouth. The sudden, sharp cry he’s rewarded with stirs something thick and molten within his core.

God, he remembers how it felt even with just his own fingers. How it made his cock throb and mind blank. He looks up at Keith from beneath his lashes and notices he’s biting on his fist, tampering down the whimpers that long to spill. That’s just no good.

Shiro reaches and moves his hand, biting gently on the nipple as punishment.

“Fuck, fuck—!” Keith exclaims, his back taut. Shiro brings up his metal hand to play with the other. Keith’s jaw slackens, eyes wide as he stares down at Shiro, as if he himself is surprised by just how good it feels. He feels Keith quiver beneath him and pulls back when Keith starts pleading. “It’s too much… fuck... I can’t, I can’t, Shiro-”

“God, you’re so sensitive baby,” Shiro praises, rising to eye level and thumbing away the tears that have started to gather in the corner of his eyes. When did Shiro get so fucking lucky to have this? Keith’s face is flushed, eyes half-lidded as he pants through finely parted lips. “It’s so hot.”

“It is?” Keith breathes, averting his gaze. “It’s embarrassing…”

Shiro kisses him hard. Then when he manages to distract Keith long enough, he twists both his nipples almost cruelly. It has Keith moaning brokenly into his mouth regardless, his lips dragging hotly over Shiro’s in a way that makes him dizzy with arousal.

“Then you have no idea what you do to me,” Shiro whispers lowly into his ear, tucking back a rogue curl of dark hair. “I’ve wanted you underneath me like this for so many years that I would fall asleep imagining what sort of noises you’d make for me. But I had no idea you were so responsive... The sounds you make are sexier than anything I ever dreamt of.”

Keith swallows, face flushing even more so. “But you already heard from yesterday.”

“And I enjoyed every second of it,” admits Shiro. “But having you here in front of me is so much better.”

Keith shakes his head, visibly mulling over his words. “I still can’t believe you wanted me like this,” he murmurs. “Enough to make you use me. I should be angry. I want to be angry – but I can’t. I can’t be mad. Not when I know you, Shiro. And how you’re just so- so- infuriatingly good and honourable. I know that you would never do something like that, not unless you were pushed to your very limit.”

Shiro still feels that twinge of guilt. He’s about to apologise again.

But then Keith flickers his gaze up, looking him dead in the eyes. “I like being your breaking point.”

You’re more than that, Shiro yearns. You’re my everything.

Yet Shiro’s too much of a coward to say it. So instead, he drops to his knees and palms along Keith’s thighs. Confessing his love in the gentle way he strokes his skin.

“I wanted this so bad,” Shiro proclaims, carefully watching the way Keith’s slitted pupils dilate instantly. He works to untie the drawstring of Keith’s joggers a little too frantically. “I wanted you in my mouth.”

Keith gulp is audible in the silence as Shiro slips his fingers underneath the waist band. The touch merely a tease but causes Keith’s hips to twitch regardless.

When he reveals Keith’s cock, it must be painful with how hard he is, blushing purple at the head and drooling pre already. Shiro leans in close to kiss the tip, mesmerised, as he lets his tongue drag across the slit only to pull out the most wounded of sounds from Keith, and finally, finally find out how he tastes. God, he’s addicted already.

Keith peers down at him so patiently that Shiro can’t help but tease him. He runs his lips along the length of him, then pulls back to catch the head loosely in his mouth, the hot and heavy weight of him so perfect. He can feel Keith tremble beneath him. He’s doing so well. Shiro rewards him by swallowing him whole.

For all his restraint, Keith’s shout is so loud that it echoes. Long fingers suddenly find themselves twisting into Shiro’s hair, and Shiro hums, encouraging it.

It comes back to Shiro like muscle memory. He uses every trick in book, hollowing out his cheeks and letting the head rub against the inside of it. His tongue tracing the base in a way that has Keith’s knees buckling – Shiro keeps him steady though, not even allowing him to buck his hips despite how much he can feel Keith fighting it.

“I- fuck- I’m not gonna last Shiro,” Keith manages between panting breaths. “Shiro you need to stop or I’m- hah-“

Shiro relaxes his throat, takes Keith in all the way, then swallows.

Keith hand clenches so hard in Shiro hair that it causes him to wince. He releases his grip on Keith’s waist, letting his bow forward and come deep into his throat with a ragged cry.

When he pulls back, Shiro’s merciful enough to give Keith a few moments to recover. But Shiro uses the time to greedily take stock of the Keith before him. Chest heaving. Eyes aglow. Shiro’s never looked at someone before and been struck by so much desire. It’s dangerous, honestly. As if Shiro hasn’t always been ready to lay down life or limb for the man. As if he isn’t constantly in awe of his unyielding loyalty and sheer bravery, how he acts only the ways he wants to, unashamed of what others think of him. The gods never really gave Shiro a chance by fitting all of those traits into such a gorgeous vessel.

He looks at Keith and remembers the same flare in his eyes from the kid who once stole his car. It seems like a whole lifetime ago.

If he the capacity to spare a thought for it in the moment, he’d settle on the fondness of those memories, think about how they started to where they are now and allow himself a little disbelief.

But where they are now is Keith pinned against his door unashamedly staring down at Shiro like he’s starved.

Memories from yesterday flicker like a live wire in his mind. Shiro rises back to his feet and recalls vividly how it felt to be filled. The bone deep longing for more. Is that what Keith’s feeling right now?

“What do you want from me, baby?” Shiro then asks, because he craves nothing more but to hear Keith say it.

But he doesn’t give in that easy, Keith merely tugs at Shiro’s shirt and mumbles, “Off.”

He strips off his clothes and lets Keith look. His eyes rove across his skin so intently that Shiro can feel the heat just from the trail of them. It’s really a testament to how strong will Keith is if he managed to avoid looking all of yesterday.

Shiro sees the moment Keith’s gaze snags on his own erection and subconsciously licks his lips.

“I need you in me,” Keith breathes. “Right now.”

That would’ve been enough to kill lesser men, Shiro’s sure.

“Y-yeah okay,” manages Shiro, his resolve crumbling like an avalanche. He steps back and reaches for Keith’s hands to he can drag him to bed-

Instead, Keith tugs Shiro firmly against him. Forcing the distance between them to close once again.

“I mean right now,” Keith grits out.

Shiro hesitates, he knows this is Keith’s first time – he wants to treat him well.

Yet the steel in Keith’s eyes is unyielding. “Please.”

“We need lube, and the condoms are in the—”

Keith grabs Shiro’s wrist and forces his hand down between his legs. He urges his fingers to press forward, and fuck- he’s still wet. Shiro can’t help but dip a finger in, ever so shallowly, groaning at the feel of the tight heat sucking him right in.

“I’m still open for you,” Keith murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as Shiro delves a second finger in. He takes him so fucking well. “And I would rather you come inside me.”

Shiro groans into the crook of his neck. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“You’re not going anywhere on my watch,” Keith laughs breathlessly. “Now do you have any other complaints, captain? Or are you going finally going to take me against the wall?”

Shiro narrows his eyes. Keith’s such a little shit, sometimes.

“You sure do talk a lot for someone who’s never been fucked before,” Shiro intones darkly, hefting up one of Keith’s legs to wrap around his waist as he dips in a third finger. Of course, Keith would still act like a brat even now. It’s no issue though, Shiro has always known exactly how to put Keith into his place. “Always so damn mouthy.”

Keith opens his mouth, with a retort already loaded on his sharp tongue Shiro’s sure, but before he can utter a word Shiro crooks his fingers just so and—

“Fuuucck, fuck, Shiro—!”

Shiro is merciless, insistently rubbing against the spot that has Keith’s back arching as taut as a bowstring.

Keith’s grip on his wrist becomes painfully tight. Shiro can feel the indentation of his growing claws digging his skin. He’s desperately tugging at him like he needs Shiro to stop, but he doesn’t relent.

“What was that, baby?” Shiro asks smugly, soaking in the stunning sight of Keith’s slack jaw and those pretty red lips.

“I’m gonna come- oh fu— Shiro please let me come…” babbles Keith deliriously as the crescendo builds and builds. “Oh my god- fuck, fuck I’m coming I’m – !”

Shiro immediately stops and tightly circles his fingers around the base of Keith’s dick instead, cutting off his much-needed release.

Keith cries out as his hips twitch forward with no avail. “What…?” he breathes.

“What’s wrong, hm? Were you about to come?”

“Shiro… please.”

“Only good boys get to come, not mouthy little brats, Keith.”

Keith’s leans his head back against the wall with a long-drawn moan, still panting desperately. “Fuck… I’ll be good, I swear.”

Shiro smiles carries a depth of fondness that he can’t quite conceal. He then presses forward so Keith’s back is flat against the door, and hitches Keith’s leg so it settles over his shoulder. Of course, Keith follows through beautifully, just like Shiro knew he would.

Shiro slowly guides himself inside, carefully watching Keith’s face for any signs of discomfort as he pushes in. But he only finds himself too distracted by Keith’s gaze, unable to tear away his eyes even if he tried. All his world is narrowed down to Keith, who’s taking him like it’s his fucking job. Who instead of tensing up, relaxes in Shiro’s arms like this is where his body has ever wanted to be.

Once fully seated inside, Shiro has to take a moment to pause. Mostly to allow Keith to adjust to the stretch, but also partly for himself because he’s about two seconds away from coming at how perfectly Keith clenches around him. It’s an true effort to cast the urge away, but once it subsides, Shiro turns his head and presses a reverent kiss upon Keith’s ankle where it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Good?”

Keith nods feverishly. “So good, move, please.”

Shiro does. He keeps Keith pinned right against the door as he starts hitting home. Keith yields the most exquisite sounds as one of his hands reach behind Shiro’s neck, clawing at the buzz of his hair. Still, Shiro strains with the urge to not blow immediately, distracting himself with the taste of Keith’s lips.

Upon one particularly well-aimed thrust, Keith yells out loudly enough that Shiro would be certain the workers on the Atlas would overhear them. Thank God his quarters are soundproof – not even the paladin’s have that luxury in their rooms…

Shiro halts. Because fuck – that was some good planning on Keith’s part.

“Shiro…?” Keith breathes, his voice traced with worry as his fingers brush soothingly against his scalp. “Is everything alright?”

Shiro merely chuckles, though. Keith’s definitely going to be the death of him.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

Keith is still dazed. “Huh?”

Shiro pulls back and regards Keith knowingly. Keith is utterly debauched, from the red flush high on his cheeks to the hickies artfully etched across his neck. “You made such a scene after the switch,” Shiro begins with a casual hum. He starts to pull out, testing the boundaries of his own self-restraint as he only keeps the tip dipped inside. “All that yelling, pretending to be so mad at me, but you already decided what you wanted before we even stepped foot in here.”

“I told you I wanted this,” Keith tells him with admirable determination.

“But you didn’t have to create such a scene about it now, did you?” whispers Shiro into the shell of his ear, remaining torturously still. “If you wanted to get fucked, you could’ve just asked. What’s with these games, huh?”

Keith scoffs. “Games? Shiro this whole thing could’ve ended very badly for you.”

“Oh, and for a moment, I thought so too... I’m always so terrified to lose you, Keith. You really are everything to me, you know?” Shiro confesses softly before his tone becomes steelier. “But I should’ve never been worried. Yesterday, I had you, and you were just so fucking desperate to have something in you… Baby, it’s not normal. I could do anything to you, but you’ll still be here, begging to be fucked.”

Keith groans, not even denying it. “Only for you Shiro. You know that.”

Shiro smiles, pulling back to look Keith in the eye. “I love you too, baby.”

Ketih’s breath hitches but before he can get another word out, Shiro chooses that moment to start fucking back into him. Relentlessly.

The stark slap of skin on skin is strident, the sound only dampened by their harsh, wet breaths as it echoes around his quarters. Shiro hitches Keith’s leg even higher upon his shoulder, thrusting with a renewed resolve now that they’re finally synced after so many years of dancing around each other. It’s easily the best sex he’s ever had, the electricity and excitement kindling between as they move in perfect tandem.

There’s no warning when Keith suddenly becomes vice like around him as Keith slams into his release. Everything crescendos abruptly like a collapsing star. From the heat of Keith clenching him and his hot pants between the half kisses scorching his lips. From the burn of his come against his abs and the blaze that follows the trail of his claws scoring into his shoulders. How the sultry way Keith chokes out his name ignites his blood, all smoke and embers in that ragged voice of his.

It's all consuming. All Keith. Shiro doesn’t stand a chance. He comes immediately, hips pressing as hard as they can between Keith’s legs, painting him from within with a cry of his own.

For a few long moments, nothing happens. Neither of them moves, completely still besides the heaving rise and falls of their chests. The shock of the orgasm is still sparking down his spine. Shiro has never been more content in his entire life.

But then there’s a rumble that gently quakes the air around them. A dulled, distant sound, at first, to his ears – before Shiro feels the vibrations of it against his sternum.

Shiro forces his eyes open – when had he even closed them in the first place? – to find that the sound is originating from Keith.

“You’re purring, baby,” mumbles Shiro, reverently stroking Keith’s side.

“Hmmm,” Keith purrs. “This is nice.”

Shiro heart clenches. He’s so in love. “Yeah,” he says, gently letting down Keith’s leg only to wrap himself around Keith so they can bask in the afterglow for a little longer. “It is.”

Notes:

Keith’s shirosexuality defies the boundaries of consent. Everything is hot if shiro is involved ok?

Notes:

Damn. I wonder whether if Keith will ever find out what Shiro's been up to...