Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A soft, broken sob was lost among the harsh gurgle of his stomach as he retched and coughed the contents into the bowl. Clutching at the rim and gasping, vision blurry. 

It came on in the dead of night, like he always remembered nausea did. Waking up from a fitful sleep to a horrid churning in his gut. Denying and denying, swallowing saliva and taking long, deep breaths until he was forced to rush to the nearest bathroom. 

And so that was where he was. Hunched over the toilet and spitting bile into the bowl. Ribs heaving, belly aching with exertion.

He went lax when his stomach had nothing left to give, shivering against the bowl, rearing back at the rancid stench. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t rest just yet, not until he pushed himself upward, closing the lid, flushing his mess away. 

He went to the sink, cupping a handful of water to his lips. There was a weariness in every move he willed himself to make, a resignation, perhaps. Two or three mouthfuls of water, another splashed on his skin to wash away the grime and tears from his cheeks. 

He lifted his head, panting, studying himself in the spattered mirror. He looked as bad as he felt, pale, lips stark against his skin. 

He shook his head, returning to bed to shiver and curl in on himself. 

The nausea wasn’t gone. Lingering gently in the corners of his awareness. 

The shiver intensified, his breath catching behind his teeth, his veins gone cold and his belly stricken with a deep set ache. Lower, intimate. It sent a chill down his spine, flashes of a memory, a hiccup in his throat. 

A low dread welled like nausea in his gut. 

“Fuck.”

He couldn’t sleep. He closed his eyes and waited for his body to return to it without success. But at the very least he was grateful that he didn’t vomit again. 

The lights brightened for the day cycle and he heaved a long sigh. Exhaustion bled into every movement. Sliding his legs out and down to the floor, stepping into the bathroom to brush his teeth, pulling his clothes on. Sweat was beading on his temple by the time he was ready to step into the cockpit. Creeping down his neck. Skin hot despite the chill of the ship. 

He swiped his sleeve over his forehead, shaking his limbs out and tilting his neck until it clicked. 

“Okay…”

The door slid open and he stepped down, settling into his seat with a grunt, tapping at his controls and setting the final course.

Returning to Earth felt like revisiting the memories of a different person. A person he shut out of his own head a long time ago to spare himself. He couldn’t believe he was going back. His own mind was a stranger to him, but maybe that was to be expected. All things considered. 

He wasn’t even sure if he was headed to the right place. 

Moving in a daze he barely remembered, he landed his ship at the closest docking bay, murmured something to the people there, and then he was on the back of a hoverbike. Flying across the desert he grew up in. 

Funny how he stayed here of all places. He thought he would have moved somewhere green and cool. Away from dust and heat. Full of trees and maybe bordering a lake or an ocean, he himself would have liked that… 

But no. The modern right angles and sharp white walls of the residence came into view just as the sun began to set. It was somewhat small, considering the location and the neighborhood of winding mansions up the side of the mountain, but no doubt luxurious. As expected of a retired Admiral and Paladin. 

He parked his bike on the street, turning the key in the engine and staring at the door. 

There was no vehicle in the driveway, but he wondered if he was home all the same. 

Shouldering his pack, he slipped off of his bike and approached the door, breath held, heart racing as he raised his hand, hesitating, and then rasping his knuckles against the wood. Each knock was so loud. He hunched his shoulders, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as if he were being watched. A glance thrown behind him proved that wrong, and yet he remained tense. 

He startled to attention at the muffled sound of footsteps, the jiggle of the doorknob as a lock was turned, and then the door swung open. 

He met wide eyes, his own burning with the urge to shed tears. 

“Keith?” 

He swallowed over the lump in his throat. 

“Hey, Shiro.” 

The man in question looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“What…what’re you—“ 

“Can I crash here for a couple days?” Keith asked, a note of desperation in his tone, a crackle in the facade he was trying to hold on to. Nonchalance, casual. 

“I…uh…sure. Yeah, come in.” 

Keith pushed past him almost as soon as space was made. His head was heavy and stuffy, his body was slicked with sweat he didn’t notice until he was standing under the air conditioner vent and it all began to cool, condensing and rolling down. 

“You…are you hungry?”

“No.” 

“Thirsty?” 

He glanced at him, silent in confirmation. 

Shiro went to the left, and Keith followed him into the vast space. Open with archways above the staircase, a couch that looked cozy enough to rest his head for the night and a large screen built into the white wall. The kitchen felt like a mile away from the living room, separated by a lengthwise island, stools along one side and a sink embedded in the center. Shiro collected a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water from the sink. 

“Here.” 

Keith took it and gulped it down, gasping softly as he finished, setting the cup down and bracing his arms on the island counter. 

Shiro was quiet, watching him, and Keith closed his eyes, a tremble in his bones he couldn’t hide. 

“Keith…are…are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You look—“

”I’m tired. Just…I’m gonna go lay down.” he rasped, “Where’s your bathroom?” 

“Down the hall. Keith—“ 

He nodded and moved back to the living room, setting his pack down on the floor, shrugging his jacket and boots off, and flopping onto his side. His breath was labored and heavy, fingers digging into his own arms, hot to the touch and yet he was trembling with cold. 

“Do you have a blanket?” he wondered, low and hoarse. 

There was no reply, only the sound of approaching footsteps, and then a quilt draped over his body and he sighed in relief. 

He could feel that questioning gaze for a long time, until his body started to go lax and he began to drift into sleep. 

He lurched upward, stumbling in the low light of dawn and taking in his surroundings desperately until he remembered instructions from the previous night and made his way down the hallway. He burst into the first door he encountered and barely closed it behind him, shoving the lid of the toilet up so he could curl over it. Gurgling and retching into the bowl with a wet cough. 

He didn’t have much to give. 

He rested his cheek against the bowl, panting, quivering, a tear rolling down his nose. Reflex. His body ached and his ribs were thrumming with the aftermath. 

He spat the remaining saliva in his mouth out, hoisting himself up with a shuddering sigh to flush it, closing the lid and moving to the sink to rinse his mouth once again. Reminiscent of the past three days. 

“God.” 

He breathed it into the empty bathroom, hunched over the sink while the water continued to run and swirl down the drain.

By the time he gathered strength in his legs again, startling back to himself and shutting the water off, there was motion behind him. 

He turned, meeting curious eyes with bated breath, a chill of terror that perhaps he had already been found out. 

“You’re awake?” Shiro prodded, voice low and husky with the remnants of sleep. 

“Sorry, had to use the bathroom.” Keith said, “I didn’t mean to wake you guys.” 

Shiro made a strange face at that, and then he left him be. 

Keith reached for one of the fluffy, white towels hanging by the sink. Patting his face dry, burying his head into it for a moment before he tried to fold it as best he could. Setting it back on the hanger. It didn’t look quite right, but he didn’t have the energy to fix it. 

He stepped out into the hallway, peering down toward the back of the house. It seemed to open into another living room, and then a wide sliding door to the backyard. The sun wasn’t exactly coming up yet, but there was a teasing blue illuminating the outside. 

A light clatter from the kitchen gathered his attention. The clink of glass as dishes were shifted in a cabinet, perhaps. 

Shiro was setting a mug down on the counter before he returned to the cabinets, rummaging around as Keith stared at his back.

“It’s early.” he pointed out.

“It is.” 

“You…don’t have to stay up.” 

Shiro hummed, “I’m not.” he said, turning with a little packet in his hand, a stop by the fridge, and Keith gulped when he realized his intentions. 

“This is for you.” 

Shiro gestured with the tea and the little nub of ginger root. 

“I heard you, you know.”

Keith shifted in place, ducking his head. 

Shiro was quiet for a moment, and he could feel him studying him, but regardless, silence reigned as he chopped little bits off of the shaved root into the mug. He wrapped the tea string around the handle and poured hot water into it when the electric kettle began to boil. 

“My mom always used to make this for me when I had the flu or food poisoning.” 

“Yeah?” Keith pulled one of the seats out, sitting heavily with a muted wince. 

“So which is it?” Shiro prodded. “Flu? Bad goo?”

Keith didn’t reply, crossing his arms pointedly and avoiding his gaze. 

“You don’t look very good.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You look sick, Keith.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Pretty sure that’s the dozenth time you’ve said that in less than ten hours.” Shiro exaggerated as he set the mug in front of him. “…we used to talk.”

“Yeah. Key word.” Keith snarked.

Not like it was his fault that they weren’t close anymore. 

“You…I tried—“

”No you didn’t. Not since you woke up.” Keith said coolly, “Don’t act like you did because I have fuckin’ memories too, okay?” he breathed a wet laugh, rubbing at his face and taking a sip of the hot beverage. ”I don’t know why I’m here.” 

A long beat of deathly quiet followed, and then a soft huff of breath. 

“I don’t either.” Shiro whispered, “Care to tell me?” 

Keith considered it, the urge was something sudden and unexpected. Begging to pour past his lips, and then a swell of disgust and shame as potent as nausea swallowed it all up and he shook his head. Subtle, barely-there as he took another sip. 

“Keith…”

”Where’s…what’s-his-name?” Keith glanced toward the stairs idly, “Your husband? He’s not awake?” 

Shiro shifted, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. 

“He’s not here.” 

“Hm. Garrison business?” 

“Keith…don’t you ever read the news?” 

“Never have, don’t see a reason to start now.” Keith sipped at his tea.

Shiro made a noise, something like disbelief. 

“We divorced two years ago.” 

Keith stared at the mug, his own reflection. Dark circles under his eyes, the sickly paleness to his skin. The starkness of the scar against his cheek. 

He huffed a laugh, incredulous. 

He didn’t believe it. 

“You…got a divorce?” he couldn’t help another laugh as he lifted his head to meet Shiro’s solemn expression.

He wasn’t amused, but Keith didn’t really care. 

“How long was that?” he took a moment to calculate it in his head, looking at some point on the kitchen cabinets for a beat, “Jesus, like eight months?” 

“Ten.” 

“Stars, Shiro. Why did you marry him in the first place if it wasn’t even gonna last a fuckin’ year?” he muttered. 

“What does that mean?” 

“What should it mean? I think it was stupid, is all.” Keith shrugged. 

Shiro’s fingers twitched, drawing Keith’s attention up to his furrowed brow, his lips where they quivered. 

“I was…” he floundered, unable to come up with a reason, an excuse. 

Not as if Shiro needed an excuse. It was selfish of him to think that, but if he was braver in those days he might have slapped him with this dose of reality sooner. 

“Stupid?” he offered up. Petty, to be sure, but Shiro sighed, resigned to it with a slight nod. 

“Yeah. Guess I was.” he said, soft, an admission that almost seemed like one he hadn’t allowed himself to realize. 

“Nobody’s perfect.” Keith said. A harsh lesson he realized on his own after all of that horrid business with the Lions. People like Shiro, for instance, were not perfect. 

No matter that his love-addled mind had convinced him of it. Everyone was—in the end—destined to hurt him somehow. He’d forgiven his mom and his dad a long time ago, but with Shiro…his heart still ached. He wasn’t sure if they would ever be the same. If they could be the same.

“Where did you go?” 

He blinked up at him, humming for clarification. 

Shiro looked almost wistful, looking off toward the window, the tease of a rising sun. 

“You left after the wedding.” he said, “I didn’t know until I came back from the honeymoon. Krolia kept saying she’d give me your new comm address…she never did.” 

Keith hunched his shoulders, guilt whirling in his gut. 

“Allura says you did the same to her, and the others…” 

“I needed some time to myself.” 

“Three years?” Shiro looked at him, a crease of hurt in his brow. “That’s a lot of time to keep to yourself. At some point I had to start treating you like a memory. A dream I wasn’t sure I really had.” 

Keith frowned at him, tilting his head in thought. 

“A good dream or a bad dream?” he wondered. 

Shiro stared at him, gaze darting between his eyes, lips parting and closing until he finally managed to rasp: 

“I’m not sure.” 

Keith’s breath caught in his chest. Words were stolen away and all he could do was keep that intense gaze. Study the hurt he didn’t think Shiro deserved to feel when he pulled away first. Study the stubborn defiance burning in his silver-flecked eyes. See the veil they were for the concern underneath. Concern he wished Shiro might have shown after his resurrection. 

He broke it at last only to wrap his arms around himself in a weak mimicry of the tenderness he craved.

Neither of them spoke a word. 

Keith couldn’t muster one if he tried. 

Slowly, he gave a nod, “M’kay.” he rasped as he turned in place to slip back to the couch. He sat down like his legs had given out, lurching onto his side with a hitch of breath. He almost wondered if he might cry. 

He didn’t, but every atom of his being felt as though he would. 

He vaguely recognized that his gut ached, bruises too fresh throbbing on his hips, his thighs…

Shiro remained in the kitchen for a time, and then the light flicked off, plunging the room into that soft blue of early dawn before his steps finally rounded into the hallway and up the stairs. 

Keith closed his eyes, shifting in place with a soft groan, a hiss, and a tear tickling its way over his nose. 

Chapter Text

He stirred, sluggish, heavy like he had overdone it in practice again. Back in the day. 

It hurt. 

His body ached, his bladder was too full, and his head was throbbing. 

Shifting in place had a lance of pain rolling up from his legs to his spine. A hand rubbed over his stomach, a soft moan escaping him while he pressed down like it would somehow make it hurt less. 

Instead, as if in defiance, it grew. 

He turned his face into the pillow and grit his teeth, breath hissing through them as he tried to hold back a moan of agony. 

“Fuckkkk…” he rasped, biting the fabric with a whine. 

His body shifted without his permission, rolling onto his knees, resting atop them and gasping into the foam of his pillow. He muffled a cry, a low sob, and then, like it was never there, it was gone. 

He went lax and shuddered, trembling under the now-painless thrum. It pulsed in his gut, reverberating through his body. Foreign, a constant reminder of its presence. 

He expected it to hurt for a while, why wouldn’t he? But this pain was something otherworldly, fucking alien. 

He huffed a laugh, a hysterical thing, and pushed himself up from his fetal position to stare down at himself. 

He traced tentative fingers over his belly, grasping the hem of his shirt and tugging it upward. His hand went flat, mapping the delicate curve of his belly. Visibly distended.

“Fuck.” 

No wonder it was hurting so much. 

His stomach churned with nausea so suddenly he lurched off of the couch, stumbling down the hall into the bathroom, barely in time to dry-heave into the bowl of the toilet until he’d lost whatever water remained to him, until nothing but bile could come up. 

He spat the ugly substance into the bowl, retching once, twice, three more times before his body finally seemed to realize it had nothing to give. 

He coughed and sobbed, trembling hands gone to press the button. He was almost flimsy, hauling himself up on muscles he was certain worked just a few days ago. He pushed at his pants, sitting down to relieve himself. It was a miracle he hadn’t already, if he was honest with himself. Nothing but the fact that he couldn’t soil the soft white rug under his knees with it held him back, he was sure.

That and having Shiro find him in a puddle of his own piss, vomiting into the toilet…

He wasn’t sure he could ever look him in the eye again. 

Washing his hands and cleaning his teeth, he finally made his way back out to the couch. 

The sun was shining into the house from somewhere up high. Mid-day, maybe. Maybe a little later than that. 

More than that, the house was dead silent. Empty. He could feel it. And though there had been no vehicle in the driveway even when Shiro was home, that didn’t mean the garage had been empty. 

He laid himself back down on the couch with a low sigh, reaching a hand up to grasp the remote. 

The screen flickered on and he mindlessly scrolled until he hit some sort of documentary channel. Something to stare at and keep his mind off of wandering thoughts. Keep it from reliving fresh memories. 

His belly ached again, low, a throb that felt like something his body used to know. Keeping him on the edge of relaxation. Close enough but never crossing that line where he could actually go lax. 

The sun was setting, bathing the world in a reddened glow that slated through the open blinds onto the walls by the time the door opened. Keith didn’t move, keeping a steady gaze on the screen as bags rustled and a soft grunt, a sigh, and the thump of booted footsteps moved into the kitchen. 

He vaguely listened as the bags continued to rustle, metal and plastic clacking and scratching against surfaces, bags crinkled as they were maybe shoved into a pantry. 

“Long grocery run.” he murmured. 

Shiro didn’t seem to hear him over the bustle and the noise from the television. It took him a couple minutes before he seemed to finish. A few more sounds, the clatter of silverware, and then his form rounded the couch, settling down on the other side of the L. He had a container, Keith recognized it as Chinese food after he got a whiff. 

Shiro opened the box and set it on the coffee table, and Keith kept his eyes on the television all the same. 

“Did you sleep the whole day?”  

He hummed in response. 

“I’ve never seen you like that.” Shiro said, “Couch can’t be very comfortable.” 

“It’s good enough.” Keith rasped. 

“I have a guest room.” 

Keith looked at him, then. 

“I only said a couple days.” 

Shiro took a bite of his food, “Yeah, I know. Nobody said those days had to be on the couch. Bed’s a lot more comfortable.” 

Keith nodded, “Yeah. Okay.” 

“It’s upstairs.” Shiro added, “But it has a bathroom, so…” 

Keith gulped and shifted in place. 

“Are you hungry? This is a lot of food.” 

Keith shook his head. 

“No. I don’t…I don’t feel good.” he whispered. 

Shiro went quiet, “How long have you been throwing up?” 

Keith shifted again, rolling over and facing the back of the couch. Emotion was roiling up, bleeding into his lungs and his eyes. 

“A couple days.” 

“Did you see a doctor?” 

He gave a noncommittal shrug. 

“Keith—“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Keith.” 

A hand rested on his thigh, so warm it bled right through the thin blanket, his pants, his skin…

He gave a squeeze and Keith reached down, hoisting his hand away with a soft gasp, it left even though he didn’t want it to. But he was sore, and the bruises on his skin were still there, it hurt. 

He pulled his legs up, curling into himself and biting his lip against the sting of tears. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“…I’m sorry.” 

Keith exhaled shakily, “Please don't touch me.” 

“I won’t, Keith.” 

He reached downward, whimpering, pressing the heels of his palms to his swollen belly. Roiling with that ache once again. 

The television didn’t exactly drown out the noises he was muffling, biting his lip, hissing through his teeth and taking sharp little breaths that he tried desperately to control. He could feel Shiro watching him, and somehow that seemed to make it all worse. He didn’t want him to see. 

He didn’t want to feel like this in the first place. 

“Hey.” 

Fingertips skated over his arm, “Keith, come on, you gotta talk to me.” 

He shook his head frantically. 

“You’re in pain.” 

“M’fine.” 

“Stop lying. Come here.” 

He couldn’t fight the way he rolled him over, hoisting him up like a doll. He could only tuck his head against his neck, losing his desperate fight to stay aloof. Tears welled in his eyes and poured out over his cheeks, a soft sob choked down in his throat. 

“It’s okay.” 

Shiro murmured it as he took him upstairs. 

“What feels better? Your side? Your belly?” 

“Hm?” 

Shiro moved, one hand leaving him for a moment before he laid him down and pulled the blanket over his legs, “Get comfortable, I’ll be back.” 

Keith shuffled and rolled onto his knees, hoisting his hips up, panting into the soft sheets. The plush mattress that swallowed him up a little as his weight sank into it. 

Shiro was gone for a time. 

Keith groaned and writhed, sobbing softly as the pain continued to double. At some point he sincerely wanted to scream for help. And that was when it subsided and he went lax with a whine. 

A rattle deep in his gut didn’t bode well, not to mention the way something gushed and he lurched up from the bed in a panic. 

“Shit…shit!” he shoved at his clothes as soon as he got to his shaky feet, pausing only at the sight of blood dripping down his thighs. He could only stare, holding the hem of his pants away from his body with a lump of horror in his throat. 

Shiro appeared in the doorway and he released them to look at him in dismay. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Shiro set the steaming mug down, as well as a thermos, and moved to support his trembling form. 

“I didn’t…I don’t want to get your sheets dirty.” he rasped, “I have clothes in my bag. Downstairs.” 

“What happened?” 

“I can’t…” Keith shook his head, “Just go get them.” 

Shiro made a noise, frustration, but he did as he was asked. 

Keith waited, uncomfortably wet. He could feel it trickling down to his calves, and he started shuffling over to the bathroom. Cautious, until his feet met tile and he could push his pants and his underwear alike down his legs without fear of staining the carpet. 

He stepped into the tub nearby, coincidentally just as another gush of blood made its way down his legs. He collected the showerhead and turned the water on, sitting down and pressing his legs together so he didn’t have to watch it pour out of him. 

Shiro returned, Keith’s bag thumped down on the floor as Shiro bent to inspect the wet clothes. A pinch of worry in his brow when he pulled his fingers away and found them painted with streaks of red. 

“What the fuck is going on, Keith?” he asked, holding up his hand pointedly. “Are you…?” he trailed off in confusion. 

“No, I'm not.” Keith clarified. “That much I do know.” 

Shiro stared at him, and then, drawn like a curious puppy, he slowly made his way over, peering down at him. 

“You’re sure about that?” he settled beside the tub, a minute gesture of his hand to Keith’s belly, “You’re…a bit round.” 

Keith was trying not to think about that, the way his flat, muscular stomach was slowly being diminished. Whatever was growing inside him was doing so fast. He’d thought maybe he’d at least have some time, but he could feel it all shifting inside him. A clatter almost like beads of glass. 

Disgust and a swooning dizziness hit him like a physical blow at the thought, and he dragged the warm water over his legs, washing the blood away and down the drain. 

He was trapped, now. His body was forcing him to confess the words he didn’t want to push past his teeth. Pinned between a rock and a hard place. 

He blinked away tears. 

“Here.” 

He took the offered thermos, opening it to sniff curiously. Savory and familiar, soothing. He brought it to his lips and sipped lightly at the broth. 

“You’re pretty calm about this.” 

Keith glanced sideways at him between sips, wary at his tone. 

“Has it happened before?” 

“No.” 

Shiro seemed to be trying to keep his gaze upward, inevitably drawn down and following the stream of blood only to be wrenched right back up with a fluttering blink and a clearing of his throat. 

“Are you still bleeding?”

Keith parted his legs, he didn’t want to check, but he didn’t want to bleed out, either. He brought the spray of water between his thighs, washing away the blood that was there until it went clear. 

He moved the water at that point and waited a beat, and Shiro looked away when he glanced up at him. 

“I don’t think I am.” he said, quavering, relief and anxiety bubbling up like bile in his throat. 

Shiro nodded, “Okay…are you gonna talk to me?” 

Keith gulped, reaching a shaky hand upward, grasping frantically when he offered his own for him to hold. 

“Yeah.” 

Shiro squeezed his hand in response. Silent in wait, gently prodding for him to start. 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

He licked his lips, trembling as he took a steadying breath.

There was nothing particularly threatening about the planet. Not at first glance. If anything it felt tranquil. 

A deep purple sky, shimmering slate spotted with quartz and diamonds, various shelvings of fungus grew like outcroppings on the rocks. Tiny and towering toadstools alike, some smaller than his fist and others large enough to be compared to skyscrapers. 

Everything gave off an otherworldly, bioluminescent glow in the dim light of the blue sun. A warning that he didn’t know how to read. 

He stepped out of his ship onto crackling rocks, taking stock of his surroundings and the way the low chirps of the forest went quiet. 

According to his scanners the air was deemed breathable, with a strong atmosphere, plenty of oxygen. But, of course, there was a minor risk of spore inhalation with a side of ammonia poisoning after a prolonged exposure of a set amount of vargas. 

He elected to keep his mask on…

He began a cautious trek, navigating the fungal wilds in a winding trail. Tracking his progress along the way for the rare possibility that he might get lost. 

Rumor had it there was an old Empire base here. So old it may have been out of use. But there had also been rumors of ships manned by Empire restorationists headed out this way. And if there was some way they were docking and resupplying on their way out to the deepest corners of the universe…

Keith didn’t need to hear more than that phrase before he was volunteering. The furthest place he could be from Earth. As was the case for the past three years. 

Kosmo didn’t come on these missions anymore. Seeing as he was bigger than a draft horse…he didn’t exactly fit in the ship. And while his skills were valuable, he wasn’t the best fit for stealth missions any longer. 

So here Keith was, making his way down through the marsh toward the signal source. 

A decrepit ruin. The old base barely stood out among the planet’s surface. Only recognizable by the occasional sharp corner visible in the low light. One would assume from a first glance that it was long abandoned. 

But Keith was something of an expert in subtlety by now. He wouldn’t deem it to be clear without a thorough inspection. He couldn’t count how many times an apparently empty base ended up bustling with activity once they infiltrated it back when he was a Paladin. Catching them off guard. 

He crept down the side of the shale cliff, careful to keep to the shadows as he moved from rock to shroom. Peering out to survey before he continued on. 

So far so good. 

No activity. No lights. 

No reason to abandon caution just yet. 

He reached the edge of the structure by the time the dim sun had set. The planet plunged into a low, blue glow. There was an opening in one of the outside ducts. Unnatural. Like it had partially collapsed at some point. 

Or—as his cynical mind surmised—perhaps broken into by either beast or humanoid. Either way; it was a way inside. And so he began a crouched climb through the duct. Up and up into the base. 

Inside he opened a vent and dropped down to the metal floor with a muted clatter. Quiet met his ears and he had to turn his night vision on to see. No lights. Another clue toward the conclusion of abandonment. 

Fungus had crept into the building, winding up the walls like a sort of web. Illuminating it just barely in that glow. 

Yeah. He was sure he could say it was empty. But he would take the opportunity to download the database before he left.

He was less cautious from that point, tracing idle hands along the walls as he made his way through the base. Humming a tune to himself while he collected his comm and set the number for the Blade base. 

The main console was dark as the rest of the compound. A low flicker of purple light pulsed through it when he plugged a device into the matching port. A brief supply of power to collect the data from the blackbox. Two or three flashes before his device beeped and he plucked it right back, plugging it into his comm instead. 

“Base secure. No activity. All data is being transferred now.” he recorded, sending the message and stuffing his comm back into one of the pockets on his hip. 

“Mission accomplished.” he murmured to himself, turning on his heel. 

Time to go. 

The base remained silent. Only his pattering footsteps to fill the halls as he made his way back to the vent. 

There were flickers of light sparking in his periphery as he moved. It did raise some sort of distant alarm bell in his mind, but a glance at the walls only served to provide the webbing fungus along the surface as the answer. Pulsing with little specks of that light. 

It was new, they didn’t do it upon his arrival and careful venture into the base. He paused to watch it, and it paused in kind. He reached out, dragging his fingertips over the little lump on the wall. 

It shimmered, light pulsing outward from his touch. 

He glanced down at his feet and found there were more than there had been when he arrived. Blanketing the hallway floor like a carpet. Rapid growth, perhaps? 

Either way, he kept a wary eye on it and quickened his pace. The flashes of light went ignored in his mind’s eye while he sought the exit. His hand kept a vice grip on his blade. There was something uncanny in the air, his body sensed it. Hair raised on the back of his neck, a chill down his spine, apprehension in his gut. 

He was too seasoned not to notice that he was being watched, and he was inclined to rescind his statement that perhaps it was abandoned. 

He could feel the strike coming from a mile away. Ducking and tumbling to the ground as something swiped at the space he had been. A response he would soon find to be a mistake.

The webbing fungus on the ground shimmered and rippled, and he found himself tangled as tendrils snapped up and coiled around him. The casual thrill of a fight, the adrenaline, quickly changed its tune when he struggled and realized that he was stuck. Pinned. 

Restrained. 

A sharp stab of pain in his thigh stole his breath away. Like a knife wound, piercing and white-hot. A sensation like a wave as his body went limp and he blinked in shock at the floor. Unable to will his limbs to shift, to fight. 

The creature chittered and he could feel it patting at his form with strange, paw-like appendages. Three or four. Grabbing and tugging, tearing. 

Fear wasn’t something Keith was familiar with. Not for a few years, now. It bubbled up in his gut; the notion that maybe he was going to die. He was so…helpless. His fingers didn’t so much as twitch at his command, his breath came in shallow and low, gaze darting around frantically as he tried to find and identify his assailant. All of his knowledge, his skill, and his training were suddenly useless. There was nothing more harrowing he could think of.

Not yet, anyway.

Those paws gripped and tore at the fabric of his suit. Purposeful. The cold air meeting his back and lower had a whimper spilling out from his lips, terrorized as the creature snuffled against his back. Those limbs hoisted him up and he startled with a strangled noise of pain as something bulbous and large pressed against him, pushing. 

There was a sharp horror of realization over what was happening, an intense pain, and then he could only gasp and whimper through tears until his head went fuzzy. He didn’t exactly remember much after that. His body went limp, thoughts muddled and thick like tar, and he finally became conscious of himself a little while later. 

The beast was still huffing atop him, his core was pulsing with pain, and he was shivering as his fingers finally found the strength to curl and twitch. He shifted and the beast pulled away, a wet noise and a spurt of liquid between his legs as he pressed them together with a high keen. 

It ambled off, the fungus uncoiled from around his form, and he heaved with a breath that burned his lungs. He was reeling over it. Unsure of how to feel, how to collect himself. Who to tell? 

He moved without thinking. Pushing himself up on weak, shaky arms, falling right back on his face with a hiss. Whatever venom he’d been attacked with was still in his system. He couldn’t do much but crawl…so that was what he did. Frantic shuffling to drag his body as far away as he could. 

He still had no idea what the beast looked like aside from mild, peripheral flashes that his brain hadn’t taken the time to store away. It was gone now…or for now, rather. And he wasn’t going to give it a second chance to do whatever it did. 

His feet started working just as he pulled himself beneath the vent he had dropped into the base from. He heaved, gasping and trembling as he pulled himself up against an old, creaky table. 

Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. 

Without it he may have stood there staring at that vent without a plan. But the low chitter that echoed through the hall had his gut seizing in terror, his limbs suddenly sparking to life as he clambered up on the table and leapt for the vent. It was a sure struggle, a soft sob escaped him as his arms shook with the effort, but he hoisted himself up with scrambling legs and shoved the vent back into place. 

“I don’t know how I made it back to my ship. Kind of felt like I just woke up in my bed on my way to Earth.”  

He looked up from the stream of water trickling over his legs. There was a blanket of horror painted onto Shiro’s face, at least until he noticed that Keith was looking at him. He gulped and his brows creased in empathy. Lips agape and floundering as he tried to think of something to say. 

“Did you tell anyone else about this?” he settled upon, “H—how long ago…did it…?”

“A few days. A week maybe. I don’t really know.” Keith reached to turn the knob. The water had run cold and he was sure he wasn’t bleeding anymore. “Do you have a towel?” 

Shiro made a noise, frustrated, perhaps. 

“You’re way too calm about this.” he asserted as he went to fetch said towel. “Here, can you stand?” 

Keith nodded and took his offered hand, gasping softly as he was hoisted upward onto legs that didn’t want to cooperate. 

Shiro handled him like a child. Hushing him and swaddling his lower half up before he swept him back into his arms and carried him back to bed. Tucking the blanket around his form, propping him up on pillows and sweeping his sweat-smattered bangs from his face. Keith closed his eyes and leaned into his touch with a wispy sigh. 

The pad of his thumb rubbed a circle into the apple of his cheek, slow, soothing. 

Keith’s hand twitched, and then he reached up and covered Shiro’s hand with a nuzzle and the barest hint of a smile on his lips. 

He blinked when his presence suddenly left. Warmth replaced by a low shiver even bundled up as he was. He watched Shiro’s form scurry around and collect his bloodied clothes from the floor. 

Shiro left the room, and in the distance Keith heard the washer start up. There was a long pause between that moment and when Shiro finally returned to the room. He had a look that almost registered as guilt. Secretive as he went back to the bathroom and returned to Keith’s bedside with the thermos. 

Keith muttered a thanks, sipping at it once again. Still hot, and the more he drank down the more he realized just how hungry he was. 

“You were gone for a while,” he pointed out.

Shiro hummed, staring at some spot on the floor while his jaw visibly worked. 

“Why did you come here?” 

He sounded tired, strained. 

Keith considered that, a little stab of offense in his chest. 

“What do you mean?” 

Shiro glanced at him, “You haven’t talked to me in three years. Why did you come here, to me?” 

“…I…” 

Keith looked down at his lap, breath hitching as his thoughts scrambled to find an answer he could say aloud. 

“You really don’t know.” 

He swallowed, throat gone tight. 

“I called Allura. She’ll be here tomorrow.” 

Keith wrapped his arms around himself with a nod, shame welling in his gut. 

“…okay.” 

“Keith…” 

His hand was still so warm. Bleeding through his skin and eliciting a shiver. 

“I’m not trying to punish you, you know.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m trying to help.” 

“Yeah.” 

Shiro sighed, another hint of frustration that had Keith flinching in shame at himself. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” 

It was fond, a gentle murmur enough to coax Keith’s gaze upward once again. 

Shiro was studying him. He had that puppyish look about him that Keith remembered. A dear thing that used to make his heart flutter with a feeling he didn’t understand at the time. 

“Are you in any pain?” he wondered. 

Keith shook his head. “It’s…strange. I feel very  strange.” he surmised, “But I’m not hurting anymore.” 

“…okay.” Shiro nodded, looking down at his hand, squeezing Keith’s arm gently. “I guess there’s not much to do. Gotta wait ‘till Allura gets here.” 

“I guess.” 

He patted his arm, and Keith reached for him frantically when he made to stand. 

“Shiro?” 

He looked at him once more, wide-eyed, expectant. 

“Yeah?” 

Keith floundered, squeezing his hand, desperate to convey and yet unable. 

“I…wanted to feel safe.” he managed, “That’s…that’s why I’m here. With you.” 

Shiro stared at him, color blooming in his cheeks. Bright red splotches even in the low light streaming through the bathroom door. There was something unspoken in his eyes, pained and rendered open, but regardless, Keith couldn’t read it. 

His fingers curled between Keith’s, the only response he gave aside from the barest of smiles, and then he was gone. 

And Keith could only bury his face into his hands. 

Yet again, he slit his chest open, bared his heart out for him, and he was sitting in the dark alone as a reward. 

He really should have known better by now. 

Chapter Text

The pain returned in the night. Something he was aware of in his dreams that bled into waking. 

He shuffled, panting softly and rubbing at his belly as it squirmed and rattled. His gut contracted, legs spreading automatically, instinctively. A low, reedy moan breathed into the room. 

For once, it wasn’t accompanied by nausea. 

Unfortunately he couldn’t be thankful for that. Not when a familiar gushing became apparent to him, frantic hands pressing between his legs as if he could stop it. Now he had no strength to pull away, to avoid staining the sheets and making a mess of the bed. He whimpered and curled in on himself. There was something wet, round, and slimy straining against his flesh beneath his fingers. Trying to come out. 

He wriggled in place to sit up, heaving with the effort. Falling back against the pillows with a grunt and a sharp, hissing breath. 

“Shiro…” he rasped, tears prickling in his eyes. He gasped and a low cry escaped him, unable to form around the syllables of his name again. 

Luckily it summoned him all the same. 

His form all but skid to a stop against the doorway, thumping his metal shoulder into it. A panicked look about him as he stumbled into the room. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he went to sit beside him and recoiled immediately, pulling the blankets back to stare at the mess. 

“M’sorry.” Keith panted. 

“It’s just sheets. It’s okay.” Shiro said, gaze drifting upward…a blink before he avoided that destination.

“It’s not blood.” 

Keith huffed, “Well thank fuck for that.” he snarked, ending on a whimper. 

Shiro shushed him, careful hands cupping his face. He was sitting beside him again, no regard for the mess. 

“It’s okay. Allura is coming. Just tell me what’s going on.” 

“I don’t know.” Keith whined, “It just hurts.” 

“Yeah…okay. I…Keith do you mind if I…check?” Shiro’s head gave a tilt, and Keith stared at him in a measure of disbelief. 

Shiro winced, “Fuck. I know it’s…I know you’re scared. It’s just— I want to see what’s going on. So I can help.” 

“Yeah. Yeah okay.” Keith nodded, “You can check.” 

Shiro gave a nod of his own, panic and apprehension written in the wrinkles of his brow as he moved, settling between Keith’s legs. He watched his eyes dart around, nervous, almost like he had to will himself to settle and focus his gaze. 

And it seemed he was having trouble doing that. 

“For god’s sake, Shiro! You asked to look!” Keith snapped, “It’s only a cunt, just look at it.” 

Shiro startled, giving another curt nod. 

“I’m sorry. I want to be respectful.” 

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter right now!” 

“Yeah.” 

Shiro rested his hand on his knee, pushing it just enough to urge him to part his legs a little further. 

“Okay…um…”

Keith grimaced and huffed through his teeth, holding his breath as his body went tight. 

“It’s…well it’s blue.” 

“What is?” Keith panted. 

“The…thing.” 

“Excellent.” 

Shiro made a noise, sighing in frustration, “I don’t know what it is, Keith.” 

“Can you…can you maybe grab it?” 

He looked absolutely horrified at the notion. 

“Please just do it? I want it out of me.” 

His gaze drifted upward, a hand coming to rest on his belly, well rounded by now. 

“I think there’s more than one.” 

“No shit.” 

“Easy. I—I’m gonna help, just keep breathing.” 

Keith nodded, a jolt he couldn’t help rocking his body as fingers tentatively brushed over his sensitive, aching flesh. Pressing ever so gently, a resting touch, and then his fingers went firm. Keith’s breath hitched, held as he rubbed two calloused fingers over lips stretched so taught it ached. Back and forth, a press more forceful, and then the pressure abated with a slick pop. He gasped softly, letting his head loll back in relief. 

“Okay…” 

Shiro shuffled in place, his hand returned, and Keith rolled his neck to the side, peering down at him through heavily lidded eyes. 

“So, it’s like an egg.” 

“Mm.” 

“I don’t know if Allura is coming quick enough.” 

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Keith muttered, pushing himself up just a little further. “I gotta get them out.” 

Shiro nodded once more, rubbing the heel of his palm into his thigh. 

“Yeah. You’re doing fine.” 

Keith took a shaky breath, reaching out a hand for him, gaze averted as he panted and bore down. Shiro’s metal hand curled into his, thumb swirling against his knuckles. His flesh hand seemed to gain more confidence, pressing against him once more, gently spreading. 

There was a low pulse, a sensation that Keith least expected in the throes of this strange experience. His breath caught. Heat spilled into his cheeks and his breast. In that moment the next egg made its way down with an ache, a prod for him to push. A moan escaped him, one Shiro didn’t seem to understand was anything more than pain.

He pressed and it slipped free into his palm.

”That one went easier, huh?” 

Keith exhaled shakily, “Y—yeah.” 

Shiro glanced up at him, a fleeting thing. 

Keith gulped and rested back against the pillows, swiping his hand over his belly with a moan of genuine pain as it shifted. A new hitch of breath when Shiro’s fingers swiped over his cunt. He didn’t necessarily want it to feel good, but this was Shiro. He was touching him, caressing him…

It was a slow awakening, hindered by the discomfort of passing one egg after the other. And yet there was a sensuous air regardless. The pulse of his heartbeat against Shiro’s fingertips. He wondered if he could feel it, pumping beneath his plumped, heated flesh. Erect, standing out for him to see. 

Any measure of guilt he could have felt wasn’t strong enough to banish the pang of arousal in his gut.  

“You okay?” 

“Mm.” 

Shiro was concentrated, coaxing the next egg out of him with those dedicated fingers. They delved ever just so, sliding against his insides and eliciting a shiver, a jolt, a clench that had the next egg popping out without so much as a breath of effort. 

“There you go. Seems easier now that you got a couple out.” 

“Mhm.” 

Shiro looked up at him. 

Keith panted, meeting his gaze with a shudder and a bitten-back moan. 

He almost wondered if he was imagining the flash of clarity in his eyes. He mused on whether it titillated him or repulsed him. 

“Don’t go.” he whispered. 

Shiro blinked, confusion flitting across his features. 

“I wasn’t going to.” 

Keith nodded. 

“I’m here, I’ll always be here when you need me.” 

Keith didn’t want to open that can of worms, so he bit his tongue. A good thing, considering the discomfort was hitting a tipping point, bleeding over into a strange sort of pleasure. Maybe it was the fact that his swollen belly could deflate with each egg that came spilling out of him. Maybe it was the fact that he was aroused. 

He would take it over agony. He could ruminate in the semantics of it all later. 

The next one caught on the lips of his cunt, straining just a bit more than the others. Shiro’s fingers responded in kind, swiping gently over his skin, pressing, coaxing him open. Dipping inside. 

He didn’t have any experience to fall back on, but he could say with confidence that for some strange reason it was the most erotic thing he had ever felt. The idea of him just barely delving with mere fingertips. Rubbing him open, brushing against his clit in sheer accident. 

Keith’s moan was muffled under his teeth, sharp breaths taken through his nose. 

“Sorry.” Shiro murmured, patting his leg. “Does it hurt?” 

Keith couldn’t answer, staring down at him with heat in his cheeks. 

Shiro’s fingers kept moving, one sliding inside and curling around that egg. It came loose after he gave it a little tug. Keith arched and gasped a ragged moan, hips twitching into his touch. 

“Keith?” 

His head was all fuzzy, heavy and hot as he rolled his gaze back down to meet Shiro’s. 

He knew. 

There was something in his eyes, darting all around Keith’s face, taking in the aspects of his expression. His own cheeks were bright with color once again, lips parted and his chest heaving under his button-down night shirt. 

He didn’t prod. He only kept Keith’s gaze while his fingers moved again, upward, curious, but not at all hesitant. 

Keith’s breath hitched, his body jolted, a breathy keen pulled from his lips. A firm grasp on his erect clit, a stroke or two. The pad of a thumb pulling the hood back. Keith didn’t need to see to feel every minute detail of his touch, and Shiro finally broke his gaze to look down at his work. 

He exhaled visibly, shakily, stroking him continuously. 

“Is this okay?” 

“…yeah.” 

“You’re hard.” 

“Guess so.” 

“Does it feel good, now?” 

Keith bit his lip. 

Shiro hummed, “Better than hurting, right? Does it help if…if I do this?” 

He was rubbing his clit, harsh, confident strokes that sent that building pressure in his gut ablaze. The next egg was already teasing at exiting, his body poised and ready. 

“I think so.” he gasped, closing his eyes, hips rolling into the feeling. 

He almost wondered if he was dreaming. He had to be. Shiro would never—

His breath went tight in his lungs, muscles rippling, toes curling, head lolling back with a sharp huff of a moan. Pulsing against Shiro’s touch, spurting hot slick to join the growing pile of eggs.

“Shit.” 

He barely registered hearing him speak. Gathering his presence of mind to lift his head and prop himself up took a few moments of effort. 

“That got two out of you.” Shiro said, swallowing, petting a wet hand over Keith’s thigh. 

“Yeah?” 

Shiro licked his lips and leaned to rest his temple against Keith’s knee, gaze riveted between his legs. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” he said, a shaky whisper. 

Keith whimpered, mournful, panicked, “I liked it.” 

Shiro’s eyes shifted, meeting his gaze. Guilt was carved into his face, that same guilt Keith had been keeping under wraps for years. 

“I did too.” 

Keith shivered at the notion. 

“But you were just…I’m just as bad as that thing…” 

“I asked you to. It’s different. It’s so, so different, Shiro.” Keith stressed, sitting up with a grunt. His belly was doing better, and he could finally catch a glimpse of the pile of blue spheres between his legs. He reached to touch one in sheer curiosity. It was surprisingly soft, squishy to the touch. If he had to compare it to anything he would say it looked like a frog egg. If massive in comparison and glowing softly. 

“And it’s helping.” 

Shiro hummed in acknowledgment, rolling his shoulders back with a sigh as he shifted in place. It was affecting him. Keith could see the shape of his arousal bulging against his thin pants. 

There was a low rush in knowing he’d gotten that reaction out of Shiro. A tremulous shiver running up from his spine all the way to his throat. 

“Can you…help me get the rest out? We…we can talk about it later.” he reached for Shiro’s hand, “I meant what I said, you make me feel safe.” 

It was a wounded sort of noise that Shiro made, disbelieving. 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

Keith shuffled, “I can make it less…I don’t know, maybe if you aren’t looking at it.” he grasped Shiro’s shoulders, getting to his knees and settling down with a huff of discomfort. 

Shiro moved, and Keith wondered at the logic in his own words when this position forced them closer. Shiro’s breath against his cheek as he reached downward. 

More intimate. 

He rested his forehead on Shiro’s shoulder, panting softly against his skin. 

Shiro was mildly reserved. His fingers rubbing over his swollen cunt once or twice before he pressed at him again, widening him for the next egg. It left him with a slick squelch, a breathy little gasp.

“There’s not too many left in there.” 

His metal hand was stroking over his belly, softening with each egg that left him. 

“Yeah?” 

“And it’s not hurting anymore?” 

“No. It’s nice.” 

“Yeah.” Shiro huffed a laugh, husky, breathless. His arm moved faster, Keith’s body jolted with it. A curse breathed against Shiro’s neck. That clatter in his gut was more hollow now, and the pressure of sitting up had his next clench pushing multiple eggs out. Almost falling freely out of him.

His fingers curled in Shiro’s shirt, tugging, gasping and trembling. 

“Hah…Shiro!” 

“That’s it.” Shiro rasped, “Come on.” 

It was devastating and titillating to hear him like that. Whispering in his ear, fingers working his clit until his body threatened to seize up with pleasure. That metal hand slid around his back, pulling him closer. Shiro’s breath was quickening, his nose was brushing against Keith’s jaw, then his lips, open-mouthed, breath hot and wet. 

Keith turned his head to meet him, and there was a brief, heated moment. One where Shiro’s hand moved firmer, more determined, practically panting into Keith’s mouth. Murmuring little encouragements as Keith’s hips rocked against his fingers, and then Keith gasped and clenched and there was a wet gush between his legs. He was breathing up against Shiro’s lips while he worked him through his orgasm. 

“Shiro…Shiro…” he panted. 

“You’re okay.” 

“Yeah…” 

Shiro’s hand slipped away, up to cup his face, tilting his head as if he meant to…perhaps kiss him? And then he recoiled. Blinking rapidly as Keith lifted his heavy eyes to meet his startled gaze. 

“Shiro?” 

He sat back on his haunches, Keith settled on his own. 

There was no moment of clarity for him. He was watching Shiro experience his own, his eyes going all glazed as he stared at a point Keith couldn’t discern. Keith dragged a hand down over his belly. It wasn’t flat, still gently rounded with the remnants of it, but he was empty. He could feel it. 

“I’m okay now.” he panted. 

Shiro stood up, breaking whatever haze kept Keith from swallowing the gravity of the situation. 

“I…should clean you up.” he said, his voice was tight and wet. 

“Shiro—“

”I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” 

Shiro didn’t answer, and Keith watched him go with a stab of fear in his gut. And still he didn’t regret it. He could say he was shocked at himself for what had just transpired, guilty, maybe, but…it felt natural. 

Shiro was right, he was under-reacting to this whole thing. Maybe he wasn’t capable of a proper reaction. A normal reaction. 

Not when it came to Shiro. 

He moved off of the bed onto trembling legs, looking down at the pile of eggs. There was a mild curl of disgust for them, and he averted his gaze just as quickly. Shuffling with unsure steps toward the bathroom. 

He didn’t make it very far, stumbling against the bed when his legs threatened to give out. Shiro’s presence at his side was sudden, a sure arm lifting him upward, “Jesus, Keith. I was coming back.” 

“Seemed like you were running away.” 

Shiro made a face as he hoisted him up yet again, “I was just getting some towels.” 

Keith hummed noncommittally. 

“I should have taken care of you first, anyway.” 

He didn’t have anything to say to that. He just settled back on his feet as Shiro set him down in the tub. 

“I can clean myself.” 

“Yeah. Here…there’s a stool.” Shiro opened that very stool up from a tab in the wall just in time for Keith to sit on it. “Just let me know if you need something.” 

Keith grabbed him as he made to leave.

“I need you.” he stressed, and Shiro stared at him, cheeks gone red. Keith sighed, desperate and exasperated, “I need you not to pull away again. Please. I don’t think I could take it.” 

“I’m not— I’m not pulling away.” 

“Yes you are.” Keith looked down at his lap. “Just like last time.” 

“…last time?” 

“I feel like all I do is ruin everything between us.” he whispered, curling his arms over his chest.

Shiro’s breath hitched, and he moved to sit on the tub, a gentle hand warm on his shoulder.

“That’s not true.” 

“Yes it is. First with…me being Galra and all.”

“You know I didn’t care about that—“

“And then with taking Black. And joining the Blades. Then when I told you…when we fought and I said I loved you.” Keith bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes, “And then when I ran. And…now, with this. I’m sorry.” 

Shiro went quiet. 

Devastatingly quiet. 

At first he registered it as a confirmation. That yes, he really had ruined everything between them. He was the catalyst despite loving him so much. Despite needing him like air. 

He was proven wrong. 

Fingertips brushed over his chin, lifting it up so he was forced to meet Shiro’s gaze. His face was so close that Keith was startled, and then shocked, wide-eyed when he leaned ever closer. When his lips were suddenly touching Keith’s. 

It was something chaste. Something so simple, yet it spoke volumes to quell his doubts. His self-blame. He exhaled shakily through his nose, and his inhale was choked, tears welling in his eyes as Shiro pulled away. 

Shiro looked nervous, flushed and earnest. 

“I don’t think any of that was your fault, Keith.” 

“Maybe a little.” 

“No. I think I should take the blame. I was too blind, too paranoid, and…I think that I made the biggest mistake of my life when I didn’t tell you I loved you too.” 

Keith worked his lip as he digested those words. 

“Loved?” 

“Love.” Shiro corrected.

Keith ducked his head, breath hitching as he wiped at his cheek. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he wondered, hoarse. 

“Because I was a coward.” 

“You’ve never been a coward.” 

“I am when it comes to you.” 

Keith looked up at him through his lashes. 

“Guess we’re the same, then.” he murmured, “I should have told you—“

“You did tell me you love me.” 

“Like a brother.” Keith snarked, “Jesus. I was so scared that you’d do exactly what you did anyway. I should have told you the truth.”

“…I did see beneath it.” Shiro admitted, “But…a lot happened. And I…made a lot of stupid decisions. You’re right. I was stupid, with that marriage and pulling away from you guys. And I get all defensive when people point that out because I know they’re right. Allura’s had a few choice words for me, these past couple years.” 

Keith hunched his shoulders with a hum, mildly amused that she was sticking up for him like that. 

“I had to stay away from you because seeing what I could have had with you hurt too much. And I felt so bad for feeling that way. Like you were mine. I wanted to be able to be just a friend to you because that was easier than loving you.” he said, “But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t—“ 

“It’s okay.” 

“It's not. I should have been your friend anyway. It was selfish.”  

“I think it was a form of self-preservation.” Shiro said, “Because I think if you stayed I would have done something pretty awful.” 

Keith looked up at him in confusion. 

“My marriage already didn’t end well. It started on a lie I told myself. You might have made it end worse, because…well, it’s an awful thing to say but I wanted you. I really did. I don’t think I could have held myself together when it comes to you, I don’t think I could have preserved a marriage I didn’t build on solid ground.” 

“That’s terrible, Shiro.” 

“I already said it was terrible. Would you have stopped me?” he wondered with a tilt of his head, “If I was that weak for you?”

Keith considered that, musing over the what-if? 

“I don’t know.” 

Shiro offered him a strained smile. 

“Damn. You’re just as bad as me, then.” 

“I didn’t say that I’d let it happen.”

“You didn’t say you wouldn’t, either.” 

Keith could only concede to that with a guilty aversion of his eyes. 

“What…what do we do now?” he asked. 

Shiro hummed, “Well, for now, take your shower.” he moved to turn the knobs, and Keith curled his fingers in the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head. Shiro’s eyes lingered on him momentarily before he collected himself. 

“I’ll go fix up the bed…”

”I’m sorry.” Keith whispered.

“It’s okay. Really. I learned a long time ago to get waterproof covers, you never know what’s gonna spill on ’em. You can use my bed in the meantime.” 

“You shouldn’t sleep on the couch.” 

“I didn’t say I would.” 

Keith flushed, turning his eyes downward in shock. 

“Oh.” 

Shiro snorted, “I don’t plan to do anything. You need to recover.” he said, standing and tugging at the curtain, “Don’t hurt yourself. If you’re having trouble, call me and I’ll carry you to bed.” 

“Okay.” 

“Allura messaged me a couple minutes ago. She’ll be here in a few hours. She had to make a pit stop.” 

Keith gave a single nod, and then he was alone. 

He brought his hand up to brush over his lips. Replaying the conversation in his head—the fact that Shiro had kissed him—over and over until it finally started to settle in that it was real. None of it was a dream. 

A disbelieving laugh spilled out of him, tears over his cheeks, and he reached for the showerhead with a smile. 

A pair of his underwear and then some pajamas that were decidedly not his were sitting on the counter when he pulled the curtain back. They were soft, oversized…

Shiro’s. 

He brought the fabric up to his face, breathing in the faint scent of detergent with a disappointed wrinkle of his nose. The shirt fell past his knees, and if he didn’t know that company would be here very, very soon, he might have just stuck with that. Instead he pulled the pants up over his legs, drawing the string rather tight and bunching it all up on his waist so it wouldn’t fall past his hips. 

Stars. 

Shiro peered into the room a few moments later. 

“I couldn’t find any pajamas in your pack.” he said. 

“I don’t usually wear any.” 

Shiro blinked at him. 

“I run hot.” Keith explained, “Sweat a lot. But I’ve been kind of cold, the past couple days.” he shrugged, “Thank you.” 

“Yeah. You’re welcome. Um…how are you feeling? Up to a walk?” he approached and gently grasped his arm. 

“I think so.” Keith took a few testing steps with a sharp inhale and a wince. The event was catching up to him, now. Adrenaline and arousal were a thing of the past. He felt like his body was blown out and raw like an open wound.

He powered through a few more steps, making his tender way to the bed before he slumped against the bare mattress and shook his head. 

“No. I guess not—“

“I’ve got you.” Shiro picked him up, and Keith smiled to himself, bashful. 

“It’s like you’re itching to carry me.” 

“You’re hurting.” 

“Mm.” 

Shiro’s bed was almost the same as the guest bedroom, a slightly bigger bed with one side that seemed well-used and another that Keith could see from a glance was starkly empty. Made up each time and never undone until wash day.

It painted a poignant picture. That perhaps they slept so separately Shiro was used to it and kept to his side of the bed. 

It was almost sad, but if Shiro said it was built on a lie…

He was resolved to say it was a good thing. And he would not entertain any notion that it was selfish of him to think.

Shiro pulled that pristine section apart, settling Keith into the space without a second thought. Like he belonged there. Tucking him under the covers tenderly. 

“Here’s the remote, I’m gonna get you some more broth and water and then we can sleep for a few hours.” 

“Okay.” 

Shiro pressed his lips to Keith’s temple, cupping his face and heaving a low sigh before he left once more. A passing glance given over his shoulder as he met the doorway. Like Keith would somehow disappear if he took his eyes off of him. 

Maybe he had given him a reason to fear that. 

Not as if Shiro didn’t give him his own paranoias first. He was the original when it came to disappearing acts. Intentional or not. It definitely hurt worse when it was intentional. 

Keith settled into the mattress with a soft groan. All of the aches and pains were tugging at his thoughts again, pulsing between his legs, in his legs, and his gut. 

He was exhausted. Not like that was a new revelation, but he was finally free to just feel tired. A weight lifted off of him both figuratively and physically.

His eyes slid closed…

He startled when Shiro’s knuckles brushed over his cheek. All but asleep.

“Tired, baby?” 

He hummed in acknowledgment, pushing himself back up into a sit when he was offered a new thermos of broth. 

“We’ll get some real food in you later.” Shiro sat beside him on the bed, a hand grasping his thigh through the blanket with a squeeze. 

Keith could barely keep his eyes open as he sipped the broth through the thoughtfully provided straw. Nodding along idly. 

A soft hum of a laugh met his ears, that same hand cupping his cheek and stroking as he leaned into it. 

“I told Allura what happened, in a vague sense. She thinks she has some information on it. But she wants to examine you to be sure. We can’t exactly say it’s over until she does.” 

“Mkay.” 

“You don’t have to drink the whole thing. Just get some down and you can sleep.” Shiro assured him. 

Keith looked down at his hands cupped around the thermos. There was something nagging at him, something he meant to ask, and he couldn’t help a smile as it came to him. 

“Did you just…call me baby?” he prodded. 

Shiro stammered, and Keith only kept that smile. It was making him all fuzzy and hot inside, or maybe that was the broth. 

“I didn’t mean— we didn’t really say we were…um…I’m sorry.” 

“Didn’t ask you to apologize.” Keith said, sipping idly, “I don’t mind. It’s just new to me.” 

Shiro exhaled, relieved, perhaps. 

“Another thing to talk about after you get some rest.” 

Keith nodded, handing him the thermos, “Thank you.” 

Shiro set it aside almost as soon as he had taken it, reaching for Keith and helping him lay back. Tucking the blanket around his form with a little knit of worry in his brow. Keith watched him all the while. He might have complained about his fussing if he weren’t so entranced in realizing just how much he cared. 

And yet…

He reached tentative fingers up, brushing over his jaw. Shiro went still, his eyes sliding into focus on Keith’s face. 

The question had his throat going tight. 

“Why did you pull away?” 

It was a wispy thing, barely-there, almost enough that Shiro didn’t seem to notice he had spoken. He blinked as he registered his words, something pained in his eyes. 

“…I…I don’t know that it’s a conversation for now, Keith.” he said with a gulp. “You need to rest.” 

Keith kept his easy stare, eyes heavy, acquiescing in sheer exhaustion. He didn’t expect an answer. Shiro didn’t do well in expressing his feelings until he was backed into a corner. 

They were entirely alike in that regard. And for the love of god, he wished they weren’t. 

That was the last pervasive thought his brain could cling to before he slipped off to sleep once again. The vague sensation of another body climbing beneath the sheets registered to him, but it wasn’t enough to stir him back to wakefulness. 

Chapter Text

He woke sore enough that a wounded little noise escaped him. Shifting and turning into the warmth pressed against him. A warmth that moved in kind, an arm draped over his back, pulling him closer. 

Clarity was a distant thing. At least for a blissful few minutes as he slowly became aware of his own wakefulness. Aware of the fact that he was wrapped up in Shiro, hearing his heartbeat thumping beneath his ribs. His breath caught, stiffness bleeding into his limbs. There was a nagging thought that perhaps he was doing something wrong. As if everything said and done the night before somehow wasn’t enough to grant permission for something so intimate as this.

As if Shiro working him to orgasm during one of the most frightening moments of his life wasn’t permission enough to be wrapped up in him like this. 

Heat rushed to his cheeks at the thought. 

His hands curled, expecting to find fabric where there was none. Only Shiro’s skin. He halted again, exhaling shakily and then pressing his palms to his skin. Spreading out over his shoulder and the small of his back. Stroking gently just to feel him. He was smooth and his muscles were entirely lax, the soft brush of light fuzz against his fingers as his hands moved. 

An exploration he never thought he’d have the privilege of. 

It almost made him emotional, his throat gone tight with it. Whatever this emotion was. Something he could never describe to himself, let alone others. 

Something beeped beyond Shiro’s form, eliciting a sigh. His ribs swelling under Keith’s hands before his breath swooped over his hair. 

“Sorry, baby.” he rasped, thick with the remnants of sleep.

Keith hummed, and he closed his eyes with a wounded little noise at the kiss pressed to his temple. Shiro rolled over, displacing the both of them, and Keith curled his arms around himself to keep that fleeting feeling as long as he could.  

Shiro sat up and grabbed his communicator, tapping a message before he stood and stretched out his arm above his head with a shudder and a groan. The other wasn’t present, and Keith studied the clean new port that he probably had Allura fix up for him. It looked better. Streamlined. 

The Garrison never did a very good job of making something both comfortable and functional.

“Allura will be here any minute. Says she brought Krolia.” 

Keith hunched his shoulders. 

“Oh.” 

“What?” 

Keith pursed his lips, “Nothing. I just…I didn’t tell her what happened.” 

“Well, to be fair you weren’t trying to tell me either.” Shiro pointed out, “Wouldn’t have if you had a choice, right?” 

Keith flinched, “I…I’m glad I didn’t.” he whispered. 

Shiro stared at him for a moment. 

“Yeah.” 

“I was just scared of being hurt again, Shiro.” 

“I know.” Shiro moved to crawl back into bed, settling beside him once again so he could speak face to face. “I know, baby.” 

Keith looked at him, meeting his earnest gaze. Expectant. And somehow he knew to wait for him to speak. Like he could see the words caught behind his teeth. 

“You’re everything I ever wanted.” 

Keith only continued to stare at him, waiting, emotion swelling in his chest like a geyser. Pressure building up and ready to burst. 

“And I think— I had to think about it. I had to decipher a good answer for you. Because I’m pretty sure I don’t even know why I did everything I did.” Shiro licked his lips nervously, “Coming back was like being put in a box that already had someone else in it. Shoved in and forced to fit. And until I did…I didn’t feel like myself. I did stupid shit, thought stupid thoughts. Opened myself up to every regret under the sun and I’m paying for it. I’ve been paying for it for years now.” 

He paused to consider, “Do you know what I mean?” 

“I guess. He…was you but…you were also in Black’s head.” Keith said. 

“Yeah. It’s not like we’re separate anymore. I don’t even like to call it we. Cause I’m not. I’m me again. Just with extra stuff in here,” he tapped at his temple. “It’s not an excuse. I’m not trying to make one, I’m just trying to explain how I felt.” 

“Okay.” 

Shiro gave him a quizzical look, “Am I doing a good job?” he wondered wryly. 

“It’s…I get it. But it still hurts.” 

Shiro reached to cup his face, his smile wobbly and strained, “I’m sorry, Keith.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” 

“If I know you…” Shiro trailed off, “I want to know you again. I’m starting to wonder if I really did.” 

“You did. At some point you did.” 

“But I lost you anyway.” 

Keith hummed, and Shiro swiped at his eyes with another heaving sigh. Clearing the tears that Keith didn’t even realize he was going to shed. 

“She’s gonna be here any minute. Can you sit up? How are you feeling?” 

“Sore.” 

Keith shifted, huffing in exertion as he propped himself up on an elbow and moved his hips as if to test how he was feeling. 

Pain. 

Dull and aching deep in his gut. 

“Really sore.” he rasped, hanging his head with a sharp exhale. 

“Don’t strain yourself. Just rest. Allura will fix you up in a second.” Shiro gently pressed at his shoulder and he laid right back down with a grunt and a sigh of relief. 

As if on cue, the house rang with a soft jingle and a knock. 

“Guess that’s her.” Shiro went to his dresser and plucked a shirt out, tugging it over his head, “I’ll be right back.” 

Keith nuzzled into the pillow, waiting idly. Staring at the empty spot on the bed and reaching a hand over to feel that lingering warmth. 

The door opened with a poignant bang. Startling him into lifting his head as a very familiar voice loudly carried up the stairs. 

He sighed preemptively, tucking his face into the pillow and hunching his shoulders. Her footsteps were light, as always, though she all but crashed into the side of the bed to grasp at his arm. 

“Keith? Keith.” 

“I’m fine.” he groaned as he rolled over. 

“Why didn’t you say anything in your report?” Krolia’s hands pattered over his face, neck, and arms frantically. 

“Mom, I said I’m fine.” 

“Like hell you are. Why did you come here?” 

“Ahem.” 

Krolia turned a sharp look Allura’s way. 

“Come now, Krolia. Give me a chance to examine him. I’m sure I can heal whatever is ailing him.” 

Keith shifted, hoisting himself upward to lay back against the pillows. 

Krolia looked at him, brows crinkling with worry, and then she nodded. Vacating the space with a sheepish air. Though she did offer Keith a look. 

“We’ll discuss this later.” she promised. 

“I figured.” Keith mumbled. 

Allura smiled as she sat herself down in her place. 

“It’s been a long time. But it’s good to see you, Keith.” 

He nodded, glancing upward to see Shiro fidgeting where he was leaning against the doorframe. 

“Now, Shiro gave me a few details when he contacted me. I don’t need much more explanation. I’ll just see what I can do to fix you up.” she waited for him to return his gaze to her, searching his eyes, and he realized abruptly that she was looking for confirmation. 

He nodded, “Okay.” 

Her smile widened, if briefly, and she raised her hands, glowing subtly as she waved them over his body with a pinch of concentration to her brow. She hummed softly, a wince, a look of sympathy, and Keith turned his eyes downward. Heat was building in his cheeks again, something like shame despite knowing he was not at all in the wrong. 

“It’s nothing terrible.” she said, “Seems the worst has already passed.” 

“…yeah.” 

“Did you keep whatever…came out?” she wondered. 

Keith looked to Shiro curiously. 

“Ah…it’s in a towel, downstairs. In the bathroom.” he supplied. 

“I’ll see to it later. Whatever it is, best not leave it here on Earth.” Allura said, and then that glow in her hands swelled as she placed them on Keith’s belly. 

A soft gasp escaped him, a groan. Eyes screwing shut and his body jerking as she seemed to practically weave her way through the fibers of his skin, muscle, and organs. 

It was the first time he had ever experienced quintessence healing, he realized. 

It felt good in a painful way. 

He panted, heavy and harsh through his teeth, and then he went lax, sighing in sheer relief. He hardly even understood just how much he had been hurting. His brain had set it on the back burner of his mind and now that he wasn’t feeling it…

A sob burst from his lungs. Sharp and guttural. Ugly and heaving. 

“Oh Keith…” Krolia went to replace Allura once again, cradling his head, and he reached shaky hands up to hold her. 

“I’m okay.” he whispered. 

“You are now.” she said, stroking his hair gently. 

“I—I don’t know why I’m—“ 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” 

Keith nodded, hiccuping softly, exhaling long and low with a sheepish smile despite the fact that not a soul could see. 

There was a low conversation by the doorway, and he only heard the tail end, just as soon as he realized it was being had. 

“…can I see?” 

“Yeah, it’s right down this way.” 

Keith opened his eyes, watching Shiro lead Allura away, and then he cleared his throat as he gently nudged at Krolia. 

“I wanna get up.” 

“Go easy.” 

“I’m fine, now.” Keith sat up, setting his feet on the ground with a steeling breath. 

There was no wobble in his legs. No ache deep in his core, the experience was vivid in his head and yet the evidence was gone. Erased from his body, left as nothing but a memory. 

It was almost terrifying. 

“Keith?” 

Her hands came to his back, his arm, supporting his steps until he waved her away. 

“I’m hungry.” he said, and then he breathed a laugh, “I’m really hungry.” 

Krolia finally smiled in his periphery, “Alright. Let’s go downstairs, then.” 

"I don’t have a record of the creature that did it.” Allura said, holding up one of the blue eggs with a gloved hand, “Seems it was a planet Alteans never got a chance to reach.” 

Keith shuffled in place. He was settled on the couch with a second helping of leftover Chinese when she came to sit with him and Krolia, Shiro in tow. 

“But…it does seem the creature was documented in the logs you sent to the Blades.” she looked at Keith pointedly. “There shouldn’t be any lingering effects, and these will have to be disposed of. It’s a consistent method of reproduction for them, according to the logs. Asexual beasts that deposit their fertilized eggs in other animals to incubate them with their body heat. Seems you stumbled upon a nest in your foray. We will have to issue a warning to travel in pairs or not at all for the planet.” 

Keith worried his lip between his teeth, setting the plate down.

He’d lost his appetite…

“There are a few Earthen insects that do the same for various purposes.” Krolia said. 

“On a much smaller scale.” Shiro muttered. 

“Can we not talk about it anymore?” Keith piped in, curling his arms around his torso with a shudder. “If I’m fine then I don’t wanna hear anything else. Just…get those away from me.” he gestured to the pile of eggs.

Shiro was moving before he could even finish speaking, and the eggs were set outside. 

“Thank you.” 

Krolia stiffened when Shiro returned to sit right beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Keith glanced sidelong at her as he leaned into him. 

A long, silent conversation passed between them, a raised brow, a pinch of amusement, and then a sigh as she patted his leg. 

“I had to leave my work rather abruptly.” she said, “I was worried about you, Keith.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Just…inform me next time.” she said, “As it is, I assume you’re well?” she looked to Allura, who nodded with a gentle smile. 

“He’s in perfect health.” she said, and then she looked at him, “Physically. Do take care with your mind. Take time to process the experience.” 

Keith didn’t have much to say to that, and she didn’t seek any response. 

“May we stay a night to be sure?” Krolia asked. 

“Of course. I just have the one bed upstairs, though.” 

“Keith can take it.” 

Shiro hesitated, and Keith looked down at his lap. 

“I…well Keith is…in my room.” he said, halted and nervous. 

“...with you?” 

“Yes.”

Keith could feel his mother’s eyes on him once more, and a daring glance upward only caught Allura’s grin, not quite hidden behind a hand.  

“I see.” Krolia cleared her throat, “I will take the couch. Allura, you may take the bed upstairs. We’ll leave in the morning.” 

“I…are you two hungry?” Shiro asked, patting Keith's shoulder before he stood. “I’ll go make you something. 

“I’ll help.” Allura stood, and Keith shrank in place when Krolia remained, shuffling a bit closer to him. 

“Keith, I do understand what happened, and I just want to ask,” she leaned in to whisper, “You have reconciled?” 

He nodded, wringing his hands, “We’re…not exactly clear about what is going on.” he said, “But I think we understand that the feelings are mutual.”

“Hm. I assume you’ll stay when we leave in the morning?” 

“Yeah.” 

Krolia turned his head, meeting his gaze with a smile, “I’m happy for you. Just be careful not to let your heart break again.” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “I hated to see you so sad.” 

He nodded, something tight in his gut at the notion. 

“I know.” 

“Shiro is a good man, but quite frankly he has hurt you. Willingly or not, and it will take time for me to reconcile with my own feelings towards him.” she continued, “Though I can say I have hurt you, too. I suppose if I deserve a second chance, then…” she shrugged, smiling even as she sighed in exasperation. “And in the same manner of betrayal. I have no high ground to speak from.” 

“I didn’t think about it like that.” Keith murmured. 

“Well, it is the same.” she settled against the couch with a note of finality. 

Keith went lax with a soft sigh. 

It wasn’t as if he needed her approval. She wasn’t that kind of parent. She may scold and she would warn and she would ruffle her wings with concern when he was hurt, but she had made it clear that she trusted him to make his own decisions. But regardless, to have it took a weight off of his shoulders. 

He was nestled against Shiro for the remainder of the day. Allura talked them through most of it. Catching him up on all of the news from the paladins he had missed out on in his self-imposed isolation. A movie was put on as the sun began to set, and Keith found himself nodding off, head jerking upward more than once before Shiro leaned down to whisper in his ear. 

“Tired, baby?”

”Mm.” 

“Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 

Keith nodded, sitting up with a sway, giving his mother and Allura a smile as Shiro stood and offered him a hand. He walked up the stairs, leaning into Shiro’s steady form despite the fact that he no longer needed any support. 

It was normal. Like falling back into a routine he had never even had, but his mind and body remembered it like it was carved into his bones. It was mundane, simple. Walking up to the bedroom with him, brushing his teeth with a spare brush Shiro kept.

“Just in case.” he explained with a shrug and a smile. 

He hadn’t brushed his teeth in at least five or six days, he noted as he gently circled the brush over them. They were tender, sensitive, and he didn’t spend too long on it before he rinsed his mouth and went to relieve himself. There was a little note of discomfort in doing so in front of someone, but Shiro didn’t seem to mind, and in fact he paid absolutely no attention to it. 

There was something soothing about such casual intimacy. 

And it remained casual, even when he tucked his thumbs into the hem of his pants and shoved them down to pool on the floor. Even when Shiro gently shut the door with a soft click, turning the lock pointedly. And even when he tugged his shirt over his head and disconnected his arm from the port to rest on a port mounted on the wall instead. 

Keith slid under the covers, and Shiro followed suit, shuffling up behind him after the lights went dark and the moon barely peeked through the corners of the curtains. 

That was when casual turned into something else. 

Keith worked his lip between his teeth, curious if he was the only one who felt that way. Like there was something hanging in the air, unsaid. Waiting to be spoken…or acted upon. 

Shiro’s hand was a hot brand on his hip, thumb rubbing a circle that had his thoughts jumbled and his cheeks hot with a flush. His breath hitched and he shuffled in place, closer. That hand slid down over a smooth, muscular leg, squeezing gently, and then back up to his hip, just under the hem of his shirt. It had ridden up, and his hand slid upward, beneath, down to his belly. Cupping and holding him close. 

It was no longer rounded, no remnant of the issue that had plagued him. Allura saw to that. He was good as new. 

Every part of him.

He shifted again, thighs shuffling together. Heat was pulsing between them, throbbing in his gut. 

“You okay?” Shiro wondered, lips brushing against his nape. His words quickly melded into a soft kiss. His hand went firmer, more confident, pressing into his belly and rubbing the heel of his palm into it. 

“Y—yeah.” Keith shivered, “I…I feel so—“ he cut himself off, unsure of how to say it. Whether it was even appropriate. 

“What are you feeling, Keith?” Shiro prodded, and there was a note of concern in his voice that he absolutely had to erase. 

He rolled over, facing him with a bated breath. Wide-eyed, hesitant. His heart was beating in his throat, his ears. 

“I…I wanna…” his hand moved, brushed against Shiro’s chest, and then downward. Fingers dragging over the soft skin, downward further and further until he met the V of his hip. 

Shiro’s breath was a shuddering thing, and Keith paused to lick his lips, looking downward at the darkness under the blanket. A place he couldn’t see, could only feel. 

“I wanna touch you.” he managed. 

Shiro gulped audibly. 

“…are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s so soon. You don’t have to do—“

”I want to.” 

Shiro exhaled again. His ribs were heaving, his hand returned to Keith’s hip, sliding upward to meet his arm. Down along the length of that limb until he had ahold of his wrist, and then he dragged it, moving him further. 

Keith’s fingers stayed above his pants, catching over thin fabric until Shiro placed his palm against his groin and left it there. 

“Okay.” 

Keith nodded, a little zip of adrenaline in his gut, his spine, as he pressed against the firm outline of his cock. He was hard, a shape that felt a lot bigger than he assumed it would. And he’d seen the teasing silhouette of him already, only the night before. 

He cupped it, rubbing, somewhat stroking, and Shiro sighed. 

He looked up at him, saw his eyes glinting even in the dark, watching him through heavy lids, lips parting for his heaving breath. 

“Can I…?” Keith wondered, gone to pry at the hem of his pants instead, and Shiro rolled onto his back, reaching his sole hand down, shimmying beneath the blankets. 

Keith’s hand gave a little jolt as he brought it back down on bare skin, and Shiro grasped his arm again, if just to hold. 

He was so warm under his touch. And he was a bit unprepared for how it felt to grasp a cock. He never was one to imagine. He’d been rather uninterested for most of his life, the only imaginings he’d had were about Shiro. Overblown, fantastical. It wasn’t so different from taking hold of his arm, if a little easier to wrap his fingers around. The only real novelty was knowing it was his cock. 

His fingers didn’t touch around his girth. That was the first thing he noted, and that was met with a new pulse between his legs, arousal burning hot and wet. 

He stroked him, tentative, and Shiro reached downward to grasp his hand. 

“Firmer.” he rasped, “You won't break it, y’know.” 

Keith nodded, breathing a little laugh. 

His grasp went tighter, his stroke a confident thing, and Shiro gave another sigh, a soft moan. 

“Just like that.” he petted over Keith’s arm encouragingly. 

Keith shifted, throwing a leg over his hip, moving as if to grind against him, finding himself denied by mere centimeters of space. He made a little noise, frustrated, but he kept stroking Shiro, finally going all the way to the head, pausing to thumb at the shape of him, pulling loose skin back to feel that plush, smooth shape. The bead of wetness dribbling out. 

Shiro’s hips bucked into his touch, and he rubbed his thumb into the shape of that hole, light and feathery.

”Unn…Keith, a bit…shit—“ Shiro grasped his hand again, “That’s sensitive.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, but you’re gonna make me cum.” 

“I want to.” 

Shiro hummed, “Alright. I won't complain.” 

Keith resumed, stroking him from root to tip, rubbing a circle just beneath the head, over it. He liked the little jolt of Shiro's hips when he did that. The beat of his heart under his palm. 

“Should have kept my arm on.” Shiro panted.

Keith smiled to himself, moving faster, firmer, and Shiro started to gasp, his breaths tinged with moans. A whimper as his hips started to buck into his touch. 

“Fuck…Keith.” 

His body arched and his breath audibly caught, huffing desperately. Keith slowed his strokes as his cock pulsed in his grip, watching the vague outline of his face as his jaw worked over strained moans. 

“Fuck!” 

Keith slowed entirely, dragging his fingers over the shape of his softening cock. Upward to just barely brush against the wetness at the head, pulsing once or twice more to pool on Shiro’s belly. 

“C’mere.” 

Keith startled, moving to prop himself up on his arms as Shiro grasped the back of his neck and brought him into a wet, desperate kiss. Nipping and licking at his lips. 

He didn’t have to ask whether he liked it, how he felt about Keith touching him. He expressed it so thoroughly that he almost couldn’t keep up. Panting against his mouth and chuckling softly. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I just…I’ve never kissed anyone.” Keith shook his head, returning to his lips with a curious, delving kiss. A slower thing than the frantic nature of what Shiro started. 

Shiro indulged him with a sigh, curling his fingers in his hair before he spoke. 

“Never…wait—“ 

Keith pulled back, sheepish as Shiro stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“You’re…you’ve never done anything? With anyone?” 

Keith shrugged, “I never wanted to. Except with you.” 

Shiro made a noise, distressed. 

“Shit. Uh…I’m sorry about all of this.” 

“This?” 

Shiro floundered again, “What happened…it shouldn’t have been your first experience.” 

Keith wilted as he went to lay beside him again. 

“Doesn’t matter now.”

“Hm.” 

“I don’t really count it. It wasn’t…”

He couldn’t articulate it. The words wouldn’t come. 

Shiro nuzzled at his hair. 

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” 

“It’s okay.” Keith licked his lips, heart racing in his ears again. An achy, nauseating feeling in his gut. “Is it a bad thing? That I’ve never—“

“No. No it’s…ah,” Shiro huffed a laugh, “It’s definitely not bad.” 

“What is it, then?” 

Shiro was quiet for a beat. 

Keith waited, shifting in place. 

“Um…I…god. I feel like a creep for saying it.” 

Keith lifted his head inquisitively.

Shiro laughed, turning his head, “If I wasn’t too busy thinking about all that…uh, stuff…I think I’d be hard right now.” 

Keith could see his eyes shuffling in the dark, that gentle glint of the moonlight illuminating him just enough. 

“Are you saying it turns you on?” 

Shiro hummed in affirmation. 

“…oh.” 

It was Shiro’s turn to ask.

“What? Is that bad?” 

“I don’t know. You’re the one who said it makes you feel like a creep.” Keith shrugged, “I don’t know much about this stuff. I only ever considered sex with you. But...I guess I understand why you’d think that?” 

Shiro huffed fondly, “It’s different for everyone, but some people don’t find possessiveness attractive.” 

“Is that what you are?” Keith wondered, laying his head on his chest. 

Shiro stroked his fingers through his hair, eliciting a shiver and a sigh. 

“A bit. When it comes to you.” 

“Mm.” 

Shiro’s hand came to rest at the base of his head, scratching soothingly. 

“Do you want me to…y’know?” 

Keith hummed again, “What?” 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” 

He considered that for a time, a pulse of arousal in his gut at the suggestion. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sure I didn’t kill the mood?” Shiro rolled the both of them over, pressing a kiss to his jaw before he stood. 

“I’m sure.” 

“Okay. Just give me a second.” Shiro tugged his pants pointedly, and Keith’s gaze zeroed in on the barest shape of him in the dark. “Gotta clean up and get my arm.” 

Keith settled in the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, hands curling anxiously beside his head. His breath quickened, excitement and nerves welling like a knot in his gut. 

Shiro returned before he could spiral too far into his own head. 

He crawled over him, bending to take his lips in a smoldering kiss. Slow, letting Keith feel the pace and moving to lead him. His hands were tentative in rising up to touch and grasp, clumsy and grappling at his skin for purchase. 

Shiro broke from his mouth soon enough, trailing downward and nipping at his jaw, a hand gliding down over his shirt, tugging at the hem of his underwear. 

Keith hoisted his hips up and Shiro grasped at them, pulling them down his legs, tangling them between his ankles and eliciting a hushed laugh out of Keith as they both fought to free his feet from them. Making it worse for a moment, and then his feet slipped free and the pair was tossed to some random corner of the room before Shiro dropped to his belly between his legs. 

Keith propped himself up on his elbows in an instant, shocked, gasping before he even got his mouth on him. 

“Sh—Shiro, wha—“ 

His body jolted with it, the desperate, wet lap of his tongue. Collecting all of the slick from him and gulping it down with a moan that reverberated through him from his cunt to his navel. Warm, uncoordinated but it felt good. 

It felt good and yet there was a low buzz just under his chest. A foreboding little ball of…something. 

Shiro was lost in him. Huffing and panting as he licked over him and suckled at his clit. His hands were smoothing over his thighs, spreading him a little more. 

Keith shivered at the imprint of a memory. Pressure being used to pin and bruise. Sharp, heavy breaths through his nose as he looked around in stark panic and tried to find the details on the walls. Pulsing with color as his body went alight with pain. 

“Shiro…” 

“Mm?” 

Keith curled his fingers in the sheets, closing his eyes. His lungs had gone cold, ears ringing, chilled like all the blood had left his body. He didn’t want him to stop. It felt so good, and he was trying to breathe through whatever was trying to tarnish this for him. 

He let his head loll back, a soft, wispy moan escaping him. His next breath was purposeful, long and heaving. Exhaled shakily. 

He was doing okay. He was fine, it was Shiro touching him and suckling on him and moaning at the taste of him. 

And then his fingers started teasing at the sopping folds of his cunt, tracing them and pressing. He held his breath and one or two slipped inside him. There was a poignant popping sensation and suddenly he was back in that cold hallway. Pinned down and limp, veins burning as something forced its way inside him, deep enough to breech his womb—

The noise he made was sharp and almost feral, his thighs tried to snap together over Shiro's head and he fell onto his back so he could push at him frantically. 

“Wait. Wait, stop!” 

Shiro startled and pulled away, instant, and Keith curled onto his side. He drew his legs up so he could wrap his arms around his knees, staring at nothing. The edges of his vision were blurry and dark and spotty. 

“Keith? Hey…” 

Keith slapped at his hand as it brushed over his hip.

“Don’t touch.” he panted. 

“Okay…shit. I’m so sorry, baby.” 

He felt him sit down heavily beside him, waiting. Patient. 

“I got overzealous.” 

Keith huffed, throat tight as he swallowed and tears welled in his eyes yet again. He didn’t want to feel like this. He wanted to be able to explore sexual intimacy with Shiro now that he had him. And here he was, grappling with panic instead. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, Keith. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have even asked—“ 

“I wanted it.” Keith trembled and wiped at his face, sniffling softly. “How— I thought it would be okay. You were rubbing and f—fingering me just fine yesterday. I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this. Why now?” 

“…can I touch your shoulder, baby?” 

Keith considered, rubbing at his arm, and gave a tentative nod. 

His hand was cool to the touch. His metal arm, resting gently and squeezing. In a way it was helpful. A little shock of sensation that had his winding thoughts spiraling back down to him. Tempered and grounded. 

“Yesterday was a fluke.” Shiro murmured, “The heat of the moment, and…Allura said there may have been an aphrodisiac involved. In any normal instance—if that could be called normal at all—I don’t think you would have wanted me to touch you like that.” 

“…I guess.” 

“I’m glad you wanted to touch me. I just wanted to return the favor, but I should have thought about how soon it is.” 

“I said yes.” 

“And then you changed your mind. That’s okay, Keith.” 

“I didn’t want to change my mind. I didn’t want to feel like this. I wanted you to do that, I even wanted you to fuck me. But I can’t and I hate it.”

“It’s okay. You’re feeling it, that’s all that matters. And I’ll wait.” 

“…I wanna feel in control.” 

“You are.” 

“Then why is this happening?” 

“It hasn’t even been a week.” 

Keith hunched his shoulders, sniffling again. He wasn’t on the verge of tears anymore, but his body was still wracked with a tremble. One that coursed its way down from his neck to his toes. 

“You just need some time. We can try again another day when you feel up to it.” Shiro laid beside him again, stroking his arm gently. 

“I’m not angry with you. I'm not even mildly frustrated. It’s okay.” 

“I’m frustrated with myself.” Keith whispered. 

“I know.” 

“I liked it. I really did.” 

Shiro hummed, “I’m glad I got to try it. I’m just sorry it made you feel anything but pleasure.” 

Keith shifted in place, curling his toes idly, his hands in the fabric of the sheets. 

“We can try again.” he said. Determined. A declaration to himself that he could absorb and accept. 

“We can. May be a few days before we do. Might be a week. A month. Whenever you want to try, okay?” 

Keith sighed, rolling over to face him, to shuffle close. He was tentative again, like somehow he had lost the privilege to touch him already. At least until he wrapped him in his arms and pressed a kiss to his hair. Petting over his back, shushing him softly. 

“As many times as it takes.” 

Keith’s breath hitched, a new swell of emotion in his lungs that he swallowed back with a watery smile. 

“Okay.”