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Shiro manages a full hour before he calls it a night.
He completed his usual routine: show up, say some nice words, have a drink or two, say a few more words, and then excuse himself for the night. No one bats an eye as they wave him off, nothing more than a Have a good night, Admiral, before he’s slipping out.
Weekly nights out is a tradition created by Nadia, however many years ago, and maybe the Shiro from years ago would appreciate that and jump at the opportunity to promote team bonding, but the Shiro he is now would rather just crawl into bed.
Shiro from Before would make forming connections with his crew a priority, put effort and time into getting to know the people he works with every day, and enjoy every second of it. It’s why the Garrison always thought he’d be an amazing leader.
But he isn’t Shiro from Before. This Shiro, the man he is now, is just an empty husk of a body, insides all scooped out and void of anything he used to be. Besides, the war is over and there’s no real use for who Shiro had been before. He has a new role now: Guiding the Atlas throughout space to promote the Coalition, a mascot to be shuffled around war-torn planets with a wide smile and prewritten speeches about hope and unity.
He tells stories of Voltron, talks about the humanitarian work the Blades are doing, and sits through meetings and attends galas in hopes of adding new allies to the Coalition. It’s not exactly the work he thought he’d be doing after the war, but Shiro is used to following orders.
The lack of action makes his husband happy, at least.
“The war is over, Shiro, you already did your part in saving the Universe,” Curtis tells him during one of their many arguments, “why do you want to run off and risk your life, again?”
Marrying Curtis had been one of Shiro’s more impulsive decisions.
The return to Earth and being given the Atlas and everything that came after happened too soon after he’d been brought back from death. Being pulled from Black, shoved into a body that resembled his but still felt so wrong, the onslaught of memories that weren’t his overloading his brain, the fight with Keith.
Nearly killing Keith. Burning a thick scar onto the side of Keith’s face, remembering the cruel words the clone said to Keith, the split second of clarity when Keith pleaded with him, a cry of I love you.
There wasn’t any time to sort through it all. The war was still going on and they needed to get to Earth before the Galra did.
Shiro had gathered up his trauma, created a pocket in the back of his mind, and shoved it in there to deal with later.
Only, later never comes because when they get to Earth, they find out they were too late. Galra had already invaded and now they have to deal with Sendak, and then after that, it’s the witch, and then after that, they need to start rebuilding Earth, and there’s just no time.
Shiro’s been on autopilot for so long now, that he’s not sure he even wants to unpack his trauma. The blank, empty, almost lifeless state he’s been existing in is almost a comfort. He’s been brought back to life physically, but that’s all he is: a hollow shell of a body.
He has moments, though.
Moments where he feels closer to being alive, closer to the person he was before dying. Times when he feels flashes of emotion, warmth spreading throughout his body like molasses, slow and sticking sweetly to the empty spaces of his being.
It’s when Shiro thinks of Keith. When he allows himself to linger on the memory of him, trying to remember the sound of his voice or the comfort of his body pressed against his. He gets glimpses of his shy smile, his pinched expression when he’s in deep concentration, the way his lips would push out into a pout when he was confused.
The memories hurt. They cut into Shiro like glass, and rub into his wounds like salt, but it makes him feel alive and real. He doesn’t allow himself these thoughts too often.
Shiro remembers Keith’s devotion. How he had torn himself apart to find Shiro, searching countless galaxies and refusing to give up, not allowing anyone to stand in his way of finding Shiro. And for all of Keith’s grief, he only found a clone, a mockery of who Shiro had been.
Even now, after Keith almost allowed himself to die to bring back the Real Shiro, he’s not the man Keith’s been looking for.
Keith radiates sunlight and bathes everything in his orbit with warmth and life. A sun condensed in the kindest, most precious soul Shiro has ever known. He bleeds life back into Shiro. Keith has a way of making Shiro feel like he deserves to be alive, that he is allowed to just simply exist without needing to justify himself.
Despite everything, Keith remains good. The tragedy of war only enforces just how good he is, unlike Shiro, who has become something cold and unfeeling. Keith is too alive, something bright and loving and soft. Shiro has been broken into something so unrecognizable from his old self, he’d only ruin Keith. He would poison Keith, suck all the life and tenderness from him until he was just as empty as Shiro, and he can’t do that. Not to Keith.
So, Shiro pulls away. He limits interactions with Keith to just meetings and other work-related occurrences. He pretends to not see any of Keith’s texts or emails, makes excuses to avoid seeing him outside of work, and treats him as nothing more than a coworker.
Marrying Curtis was the final straw. Shiro knows how much it must have hurt Keith; he’d been planning on it, even. Keith stops trying after that. He doesn’t even show up to the wedding, only messages Shiro one last time before going off with the Blades.
The only constant in Shiro’s existence, throughout his time as a prisoner for the Galra, escaping back to Earth only to be thrown into fighting a war, dying and being trapped in the astral plane, and being brought back to life in a clone body and making it to the end of the war, the thing that has persisted is his love for Keith.
Shiro loves Keith, and only wants the best for him, so he knows he can’t allow himself to be around him.
The walk back to the Atlas is short, and Shiro finds himself roaming random hallways, not quite ready to head back to his quarters when he knows Curtis is still awake.
He’s turning a corner when he hears it: a hushed giggle and then something wet and slick sounding before a telling slap slap slap of skin echoes the hallways.
Shiro sighs, annoyed, but peers around the corner, wanting to see who would be so shameless to fuck in the middle of the hallway that leads to the crew’s living quarters.
Keith.
Keith pressed up against the wall, long, bare legs wrapped around a Galra that is easily five times his size. His head is titled back, eyes closed with his small, pink mouth hanging open, wet gasps being forced out of him.
Right. The Coalition had requested a few Blade members to accompany the Atlas on their next couple of stops. Shiro hadn’t known Keith would be one of them.
A loud whine forces his attention back to Keith, who is now squirming against the wall, seemingly trying to both get away from whatever pleasure he’s feeling and also get closer.
The Galra is someone Shiro has never met, but he’s aware that he’s Keith’s husband.
He hadn’t been invited to the wedding. Or even told about it before he overheard someone on his crew mention it in passing. But once Shiro had known about it, it was all anyone seemed to want to talk about.
Keith and his extremely handsome and wealthy husband. His handsome and wealthy husband that dotes and spoils Keith rotten. Gifts him with only the very best the Universe has to offer and then parades Keith around like a show dog.
And Keith just lets him. Even seems to enjoy it, if the rumors are true.
Before, Shiro had been the only one Keith allowed to care for him. Before, Keith hadn’t dared to look or even think about anyone else besides Shiro.
This is your fault, Shiro tells himself as he watches every twitch of Keith’s body, catalogs each moan and whine, You did this.
He has no right, but seeing Keith give himself so willingly to someone that’s not Shiro has him struggling to breathe, hot sparks of anger bursting from every nerve in his body.
Shiro imagines himself storming over to the couple, using his Altean hand to crush the neck of Keith’s husband before filling Keith with his own cock, fucking him hard and brutal until Keith is mindless with pleasure, and can only babble about how much he loves Shiro’s cock.
As if Shiro had projected his fantasies out loud, Keith’s eyes snap over to where he’s standing.
Keith’s eyes find him, and his face goes blank for a few ticks before a high-pitched whine is fucked out of him. Keith sees how Shiro’s hands clench, the tightness of his jaw, and the icy steel of his eyes as he watches his former best friend get fucked senseless.
A smile spreads across Keith’s face as he looks at Shiro, a smug upturn of his mouth.
Shiro forces himself away soon after that.
He storms off, anger and jealously and hurt prickling all over his skin like fire ants. Keith’s moans still ringing in his ears.
Eventually, Shiro ends up in his office, and while it’s late and he’s not in the right state of mind for work, there’s no way he can go back to Curtis when he’s wound up like this, so Shiro takes several deep breaths and starts sorting through the handful of files on his desk.
The reports he fills out are half-assed at best, and he’s just about ready to give up and go exert his energy in one of the training rooms when there’s a brief knock at his office door, followed by the swish of it sliding open.
Shiro barely manages to avoid choking on his own spit when Keith slinks into his office, hair rumpled and only wearing what looks like one of Shiro’s old t-shirts.
It’s the first time they’ve been alone together since before landing on Earth. A chill goes down Shiro’s spine as the door slides shut behind Keith. He watches as Keith takes in how bare and empty his office is, devoid of anything that’d claim the space as Shiro’s.
“So this is what the Admiral office looks like,” Keith murmurs. His voice is rough, scratchy, like he just had something bullying his vocal cords. Shiro clenches his jaw so tight his teeth feel like they might shatter. “It’s kinda disappointing, actually.”
Keith turns to look at him, his pretty eyes just as cold as the starry skies they remind Shiro of.
“Shouldn’t you be with your husband?” Shiro asks, unable to keep the shortness from his voice.
That white-hot burn from before is still there, licking at his veins and bringing all his ugly emotions to the foreground. He has no right to be this angry, to feel this possessive and hurt over Keith, not after pushing him away. He knows it's wrong; Shiro hasn't spoken to Keith properly for years, probably not since he first woke up in the clone's body. Both of them are married.
But none of that stops him. The image of Keith being fucked stupid by his husband in such a public area is imprinted in his mind, tattooed on the backs of his eyelids so it's all he can see.
Shiro is wrong and unjust and horrible, but he burns with hot anger at Keith for finding pleasure in someone else, someone who isn't him.
"What's got you looking so mean, big guy?" Keith's smile is a cruel little thing, making the points of his fangs look sharper, dangerous. "What, you don't like that I moved on from you? That I have someone who treats me like I deserve? Someone who takes care of me?"
Keith moves closer to him, keeping his steps slow and loose, showing off the bare length of his legs. "I mean, you saw, right?" he asks, stopping an inch away from Shiro. "You saw how good he takes care of me? Never had someone fuck me like him. I couldn't even wait for us to get back to our room; I begged him to take me right there in the hallway, was so desperate for it."
Shiro's jaw clicks, tense. He wonders when Keith got so mean, and thinks it might be when Shiro abandoned him.
"His dick is so big, Shiro. First time I saw it, I was so scared, thought it was gonna break me," Keith whispers, so close Shiro can feel his breath, the heat from his body. “He even has a goddamn knot. Keeps me so full and plugged up when he comes in me, has me crying when he pulls out because I'm so empty without his fat cock shoved in my pussy."
Keith licks his lips and smiles wide when Shiro tracks the movement. "When he comes in me, it takes hours for it all to come out because his cock fucks into me so deep.” Keith trails a hand over his stomach and moves it down until it's playing with the hem of the shirt he's wearing, placed high on his thigh. "I bet I still have some in me from earlier. You wanna see?"
Shiro grabs Keith's wrist before he can lift his shirt, grip tight enough to bruise. He tries calming down, takes deep breaths in through his nose, and exhales out of his mouth, but that only has him picking up the scent of Keith, who is laughing at him.
The sound snaps the last bit of patience he had left. He growls, shoves Keith face-first against the closest wall, and can't help but feel satisfied at the pained grunt he gets.
"Think you're funny, Keith?" Shiro hisses into Keith's ear, collecting both of his wrists in one hand, and holding them behind his back. "Your husband treats you well? You love him, baby?"
Keith tries to break Shiro's hold, but Shiro just holds tighter and presses his body flush against him. "You moved on from me and you love him so much but here you are, teasing me, trying to prove a point."
"Maybe you can convince your husband and everyone else, but not me, baby. I know you, doesn't matter how much time has passed. He might treat you right, make you happy, but he's not me. He won't ever be me."
Shiro uses the hand that's not holding Keith's wrists and slides it around to his front, cups his sweet pussy, and squeezes hard. He can feel how wet Keith is through his underwear, and laughs when Keith shudders in his arms.
"I've never even had your pussy, but it's still mine, isn't it?"
Keith whines and tries to roll his hips against Shiro's palm but Shiro stops him, biting at his earlobe. "Even after all this time. Even after I pushed you away, treated you like you were nobody, you're still mine."
"We both know all I have to do is ask," he says, allowing Keith a gentle rub of his palm on his cunt, smiling at the wail he gets for it. "I just have to ask and you'd come running back to me. You'd leave him, your work, your entire life, behind without a second thought if I asked you to."
Shiro presses a kiss on Keith's temple, the one that isn't pressed against the wall. He wants to fuck Keith and knows Keith will let him. Practically scoured the entire Atlas looking for him, wearing nothing but one of Shiro's old t-shirts, leaving his husband to come and beg for Shiro's attention like a whore.
"You can pretend all you want, baby, but I'll always be the one you really want. The one you'll always love, above all else.”
The sound Keith makes is pathetic, something small and heartbroken. Shiro thinks he might have taken it too far, too mean with his words, but even with guilt flaring in his chest, he finds he doesn't really care. He wants Keith to be hurt. He needs that confirmation he still has a hold on Keith; Shiro needs to know he still means something to Keith like Keith still means something to him.
"C'mon, baby, tell me," he says into Keith's hair, kisses it into his skin, "Tell me how much you still love me, how much you want me, even now. Beg for my cock."
Keith's panting, chest heaving with the force of his inhales. "Please..." he whimpers, barely audible, "fuck, Shiro, please give me your cock."
Shiro grins, a greedy lift of his mouth. "All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”
And then he's lifting Keith up, one hand grabbing a thigh and the other settling under his ass. Keith wraps his legs around Shiro's waist, claws at his shoulders as he's carried to Shiro's desk.
There are a few loose papers and sticky notes on the surface of his desk, but Shiro shoves them off along with a few other things so he can drop Keith down, keeping his legs wrapped around him.
Shiro looks down at Keith, and freezes when glassy violet eyes stare back.
He's tried so hard to stay away from this. Keep his distance and ignore Keith. The past couple of years has felt like a slow death; every day he wakes up with mild disappointment, knowing he has to exist through another day depriving himself of the only person who's ever made him feel worthy. It's his own doing, something he can't blame anyone else for but himself, and he thought time was supposed to heal all wounds, but Shiro just feels the pain deepen, and become stronger. The Keith-sized hole he cut from himself just continues to gape and bleed so he's reminded of all the ways he's fucked up.
Shiro hasn't felt anything since pushing Keith away, just pain and if he's lucky, cold numbness. Part of him still feels dead and there are times he isn't sure any of this is real, if he truly is alive and in the physical world again.
But here with Keith, with all the hurt and anger, and resentment between them, Shiro has never felt so full of life. He feels so human and alive looking at Keith, touching him, cutting mean words into him.
Shiro's tried to stay away from Keith and has done everything he thought would push him away, but he should have known: Keith being in his life is something inevitable. It doesn't matter what happened in the past or what will happen in the future, Keith will always have a place in his life and he's so tired of trying to fight it.
He cups Keith's face in greedy hands and kisses him.
Keith's mouth is soft and wet when he licks into him, and he opens so pliantly for Shiro. It's dirty and rough, spit drooling from both of their mouths. Keith's little fangs catch on Shiro's bottom lip, ripping the skin open and Keith moans as he sucks the blood from Shiro’s lip.
Shiro could come just from the taste of Keith's mouth, but then Keith's squirming against him, tries rutting his hips up to get some friction between his legs, and Shiro is reminded of something else he'd like to taste.
He pulls back and kisses down Keith's jaw and into his neck. He knows not to leave marks of his own, but he finds a fresh one left by Keith's husband, feels that possessive anger curl in his stomach, and bites down on it, breaking the skin.
"Fucking asshole," Keith hisses, tangles a hand in his hair, and tugs hard, but Shiro ignores him, and licks the beads of blood pooling from the bite.
"Hurry the fuck up, Admiral," Keith pulls at his hair again, but this time uses enough strength to lift Shiro's head, ripping a few strands of hair out, "Or do you not remember how to fuck? I doubt your frigid bitch of a husband puts out for you."
Shiro grits his teeth because no shit Curtis doesn't put out. He can count how many times they've fucked on two hands. They've been married for five years.
Keith grins at the lack of response, and coos at him, "Poor baby hasn't stuck his dick in a warm hole for a long time, huh?" Reaching down, Keith rubs at the obvious bulge in his pants, eyes gleaming, "Mm, he's probably too uptight to fit anything up his ass, anyways."
"But your sloppy cunt will take me just fine, won't it, baby?" Shiro says through clenched teeth, breaking free from Keith's grip on his hair, "Such a slut, no wonder your husband married you. Nothing but a little fuck-toy for him, a pretty hole he can show off and use whenever he wants."
Keith laughs, something loud and mocking, a kind of laugh he's never heard from Keith before. "That's right, Admiral Shirogane," he purrs, scooting back just enough to spread his legs wider so he’s presenting his cunt to him, "I am a slut, especially for my husband."
"I spend his money, let him parade me around all over the universe, and take his cock whenever he wants, wherever he wants, but y'know what?" Keith leans in, and drags his lips against Shiro's in a mock kiss, "I fucking love it."
Keith pulls away and lifts the hem of his shirt up to his chest before leaning back on his elbows. "I love knowing he wants me so much he can't wait until later, has to have me right then and there. I love when he shows me off, tells his friends what a good little whore I am. I enjoy being wanted by someone."
"I have fun, Shiro," Keith says, looking him dead in the eyes, "but what about you? I see you during your video calls with Kolivan. I've seen some of your speeches, your little parade floats, and public appearances to promote the Coalition."
"You look dead," Keith whispers, and maybe if he looks a little closer, and tries to study the stars in Keith's eyes, he'd see something like sadness, but right now, Keith just looks pleased, like Shiro's lifeless existence brings him joy, "There's fucking nothing in your eyes anymore. If anyone's a fuck-toy, it's you, Takashi. For the Coalition, Curtis. You let them fuck you around without question, doing whatever they ask of you. At least I have fun being someone's whore."
Shiro can't find anything to say back to Keith, his words uncovering a wound he tried to pretend wasn't there, refused to admit hurt, and then poured salt all over, rubbed it in with cold eyes and a pretty smile.
It fucking hurts. He's angry Keith can still look right through him and see exactly what he feels, what he thinks, and then use it against him, something Keith's never done before. He's never known Keith to be cruel, even to their enemies in the war, but Shiro knows this is something he's done. He's made Keith into something spiteful and mean, who actually wants to hurt Shiro.
Keith's cruelty makes his cock throb something needy. It sends arousal tingling down his spine and makes his toes curl.
Even if Keith still loves him, will always come crawling back to Shiro, he's going to make it painful for the both of them.
Shiro sits and watches Keith. It's overwhelming, feeling so much, so intensely, after years of being numb, but Shiro wants more. He wants Keith to wring him dry of everything he has left to give because it's all for him. Everything Shiro is has always been for Keith.
"You're an empty shell, Shiro," Keith must pick up on how his callous words turn him on just as much as they hurt because he gets this hungry look in his eyes, smile turning just that much sharper, "The Coalition and your husband have hollowed you out, sucked you dry of anything that resembles Takashi Shirogane."
"But you know what?" Keith asks, lays one of his hands on a hipbone, and tilts his head, "From the second you saw me tonight, you look the most alive I've seen you since Kerberos. Right now, you look at me and all I see is Shiro. My Shiro."
Shiro's breath catches in his throat. He feels so exposed under Keith's stare, his bright eyes leaving nothing untouched. On anyone else, Shiro would hate that look, would hate feeling so vulnerable, but on Keith, it just excites him to be seen so intimately.
"Is it 'cause of me, Shiro?" Keith colors the question with an innocent tone reminiscent of when he was first getting to know Keith, shy and sweet, "Are you so empty, so fucking lifeless, because you cut me out of your life?”
"Am I the only one who can make you like this—make you feel anything, at all? Do I make you feel alive?"
Shiro's vision goes black for a moment. The heady rush of feeling alive and Keith is too much for him to handle, and when he finally comes back, he has a hand around Keith's neck, cutting off his air supply.
Keith, unable to breathe and his face turning red because of it, just smiles. Tries to laugh but can't manage it with the lack of oxygen.
He slowly loosens his hold on Keith's throat and hears him gasp for breath. It takes Keith a minute to get his breathing back to normal, and when he does, he reaches for Shiro, bruises his lips in a kiss, and grabs his dick.
"You're a fucking coward, Takashi Shirogane," Keith kisses into his mouth, and starts undoing the buttons on his pants, pure rage seeping out of him, "You're pathetic and I hate you for hurting me. I wish I could just be done with you, cut you out of my heart for good, but I can’t.”
Shiro takes over for Keith, undoing the rest of his pants and pushing them down to his ankles while Keith shoves his underwear down, and plays with his clit for a second before spreading himself open for Shiro to see.
“So you’re going to make it up to me. You’re going to fuck all the anger and hurt out of me. You’re going to fuck me dumb so I forget the past five years.”
Shiro nods dumbly. Grasping his cock in hand, he only swipes the cockhead against the glossy lips of Keith’s cunt enough to soak his cock until it’s messy, and without warning, he shoves himself into Keith’s hole.
Shiro thought Keith would have been stretched out enough from being fucked just a few hours earlier, but the grip on his cock is suffocating, and when Keith clenches around him, he’s unable to move any further.
Keith is panting heavily beneath him, body convulsing as he tries to adjust to Shiro stuffing him full.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Shiro groans and leans forward to press his forehead against Keith’s, “your body was really made for this, huh, baby?”
He circles his hips, trying to grind deeper into Keith’s cunt, and slowly, he forces his way completely inside Keith.
Shiro doesn’t give Keith time to relax, figures he’s waited long enough for this, so he pulls out only to fuck right back in, causing Keith to scream out, back arching off the desk.
Another snap of his hips follows another. “Yeah,” Shiro breathes, eyes glued on Keith’s face, cataloging his fat pupils and open mouth, a hint of drool threatening to leak out, “yeah, pussy like this was made to be fucked.”
It’s brutal, the way he’s forcing himself into Keith. Shiro doesn’t give him any time to think of anything other than the fat cock making room for itself inside of his pussy, and Shiro isn’t much better. The wet, plush heat surrounding his cock is enough to melt his brain.
Shiro can’t believe he’s denied himself this. Keith was made for him, he’s so sure of it, and now that he’s had a taste, he knows he’ll never be able to go without again.
“Uunh, Shiro!”
Keith finally gains enough presence to be able to do something other than whine like a bitch in heat, and there’s a sting on Shiro’s shoulders as Keith’s nails dig into his skin.
“Feel good, baby?” Shiro asks, “Know you’ve been, fuck, wanting this since you met me.”
Shiro wheezes a laugh at Keith’s answering moan. “Mm, yeah, I knew all about your little crush on me,” he says, reaching a hand out to pinch at Keith’s nipples, “you were so fucking obvious.”
“Even back then, you belonged to me, didn’t you?”
A painful twist of his nipples has Keith crying out a yes. Shiro grins down at him, the crook of his mouth feels wild and feral in a way he isn’t used to, but Keith seems to like it, judging by how his pussy tightens even more around his dick.
Shiro only grunts at the clench, thrusting into him quick and harsh.
“Too bad you were too much of, hah, a coward,” Keith sneers, “wanted you to be my first, but, hnng, had to settle for someone else.”
The thought of Keith trying to save himself for Shiro, remaining untouched until he couldn’t take it anymore, strikes him to his core. He gives Keith’s nipples another cruel pinch and when he scrapes a nail across the hardened buds, he feels Keith squeeze his cock so tightly it hurts, and then something’s pushing his cock out.
Shiro feels a wet and hot splash on his dick, and then hears something splatter onto the floor, and his brain whites out once he realizes what it is.
Keith squirted on his cock; he squirted so hard it forced Shiro’s cock out of him.
“Jesus fuck,” Shiro groans, using his Altean hand to slap Keith’s pussy, his dick throbbing painfully when the smack results in another weak squirt, “didn’t even have to touch your little cock for you to come, fucking slut.”
Keith’s whimpering as the high from his orgasm starts to slow, and before he can settle completely, Shiro’s already thrusting back into him.
Shiro can only imagine how sensitive Keith is right now, but despite the sensitivity, Keith cries out and pulls Shiro closer until they’re panting against each other’s mouths, breathing into each other.
The aftermath of Keith’s orgasm has him clenching rhythmically around him, the grip of his cunt still bordering on too tight, but Shiro just fucks his way in, molding a home for his cock inside of Keith, where he belongs.
He never wants to leave this moment; Shiro wants to stay wrapped up in Keith’s warmth for the rest of his life.
Instead of the bruising thrusts of earlier, Shiro grinds his hips against Keith slowly, trying to map out every part of Keith he can.
“Shiroooo,” Keith whines, and Shiro feels as another orgasm washes through him, looks up to see Keith’s eyes roll back from the pleasure of it.
Shiro fucks him through it, memorizing the image of Keith’s hazy eyes and slack face, watching as a mixture of drool and Shiro’s spit drip down his chin. He’s so lost in the image before him he barely notices the soft rumble against his chest, a breathy purr vibrating the air.
The sound grows louder until Shiro realizes it’s coming from Keith.
Keith, fucked stupid and messy, purring on Shiro’s cock because he feels so good.
Heat flares in Shiro’s gut, and he has to grip hard at Keith’s hips to keep from coming, but the purr is vibrating all the way down Keith’s body to his dick, making Keith’s pussy something like a vibrating fleshlight.
“Sweet boy,” Shiro gasps as he smears wet kisses on Keith’s jaw, “you like my cock that much? I’m fucking you so good you’re purring for me?”
Keith’s purr kicks up and Shiro moans at the sensation.
“God, you’re perfect,” he says, reaching a hand down to play with Keith’s throbbing clit, delighting in how it makes him squirm. “No wonder your husband can’t keep you off his dick.”
At the mention of Keith’s husband, Shiro remembers something, a few rumors that spread through the Atlas and kept him up for days on end.
“Pussy so good he had no choice but to share, huh? He pass you around to his friends so they could see for themselves what a good little slut he has?”
He pinches Keith’s swollen clit between two fingers, increasing the pressure until Keith screams.
Shiro’s so close. He can feel the buildup of his orgasm seconds away from crashing over the edge, and he picks up the pace of his thrusts, returning to the brutal slam of his hips against Keith’s ass.
“B-but you’re not his sweet little slut, are you?” Shiro grunts out and brings his Altean hand to squeeze at one of Keith’s tits, not bothering to adjust his strength, and Keith hisses at the pain, bearing his fangs. “He thinks you’re all his but you belong to me, isn’t that right, Keith?”
“Tell me. Tell me who you belong to, baby.”
“You! Fuck, I belong to you, Shiro!” Keith cries out, voice rough and scratchy, “Only ever belonged to you—will always belong to you.”
The conviction behind Keith’s words, the raw emotion of them, is what sends Shiro into orgasm. He moans, long and low, as he spills deep into Keith, vision whiting out. He’s still mindlessly fucking into Keith like his body is trying to make sure his come is pushed so far into Keith it’ll stay inside him forever.
Shiro’s comedown is blissful as his mind empties of everything that isn’t the feel of the body beneath him. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours before Shiro feels himself slip back into himself, and when he does, it’s to Keith purring softly as he cleans Shiro’s neck of sweat in sweet little kitten licks.
He thinks maybe he’s supposed to be feeling something like guilt or devastation or regret as his mind comes back to him, the realization of what just happened settling into his brain, but all Shiro feels is contentment.
There’s no room for anything other than warmth and tenderness as he holds Keith close to him. It feels like coming home, feels like all the missing parts of himself are finally back together, and for the first time since waking up in this new body, Shiro feels like himself.
Shiro feels alive and whole again. The rush of feeling so much threatens to overwhelm him, and he knows there’s so much he needs to discuss with Keith and atone for, not just with Keith but with everyone else he’s pushed away, but right now, Shiro allows himself to soak into Keith.
He’s shocked Keith has anything left for him. Shiro’s amazed at how freely Keith gives his softness to Shiro, that familiar sunlight warmth washing over him and blooming life back into his being.
But then again, Shiro thinks he shouldn’t be so surprised by this, because Keith, even this heartbroken, bitter version of himself, is still just as intrinsically good and caring as he’s always been.
Before, Shiro believed he didn’t deserve Keith. But maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe he’s allowed to love Keith and be loved by him just because it’s what they want.
Shiro has denied not only himself but also Keith of love for so long, and it’s done nothing but make the both of them miserable.
Keith pulls Shiro back with a wiggle of his hips, making him realize his now soft cock is still inside of Keith, and the movement makes him wince with sensitivity. As much as he wishes he could reside in Keith forever, Shiro slowly pulls out, both of them mourning the loss of connection.
Come drools out of Keith, and Shiro almost loses himself at the sight of it, but then there’s a squeeze on his flesh wrist, and he forces himself to look away, bringing his eyes to lock with Keith’s.
“There you are, big guy,” Keith smiles and it’s so gentle and reminiscent of before that Shiro feels a little choked up, throat tight and eyes stinging.
“I love you,” Shiro blurts out, unable to stop himself, “I love you so much, Keith.”
There’s more he wants to say, so much more, but the tight burn in his throat prevents the words from escaping and Shiro can only hiccup a breath, his face crumbling.
Keith, beautiful, sweet, Keith, just continues to smile at him. “I know,” he says, “and I love you too, Shiro. I’ve always loved you.”
“I’ve waited for you for so long,” Keith confesses, and Shiro can’t help the sob those words force out of him, “and I’m not gonna lie, these past couple of years have really fucked me up. I’ve changed a lot, and most of that change isn’t good.”
“But the one thing that has stayed the same, and will always stay the same, is my love for you.”
Keith cups Shiro’s face in his tiny hands and Shiro has to blink through tears to see him, but the sight of pure love on Keith’s face just makes more tears cloud his vision.
“I love you, Takashi Shirogane,” Keith says, clear and proud, like his love for Shiro has never been something he’s been ashamed of, “and nothing is ever going to change that.”
Shiro should have known. He should have known he doesn’t need to explain himself to Keith because all Keith needs to do is take a single look into Shiro’s eyes to know everything Shiro thinks of.
Keith has only ever needed a glimpse to see all of Shiro’s fears and worries and hopes and dreams and he’d seen—he had seen how empty and numb Shiro had been, and how utterly terrified he’d been of dragging Keith into that void with him if he’d stayed with him. Keith saw and understood and allowed Shiro space to work it out, but once he saw how that space was slowly killing Shiro, he came back to save him.
And Keith’s right; he has changed over the years. Even now, as open and tender as he’s being with Shiro, there’s a slight edge to his eyes, a coldness that threatens to steal any warmth away if Shiro says something wrong, his patience clearly not as unwavering as it used to be. He remembers the cruel satisfaction in Keith’s eyes as he talked about Shiro’s pain, almost like he reveled in it.
But he’s still Keith and Shiro loves every part of him.
“I love you, Keith,” Shiro repeats through his tears, hands fumbling to touch Keith. He pats his sides, smoothes over his arms, squeezes his shoulders, rubs at his jaw, tangles his fingers into his hair, touches everywhere he can, “More than anything. I know I haven’t shown that, but, baby, you’re everything to me.”
Shiro hears Keith’s sharp intake of breath, and his heart aches at how he’s made Keith doubt his love for him so badly.
Silence surrounds them for a moment, the air creeping towards something tense, but then Keith leans forward, and brushes his lips against Shiro’s.
“You’ve got five years of making up to do, Shirogane.”
Later, after Shiro gathers Keith in his arms and has the Atlas transport them to some unoccupied living quarters, he bathes the two of them clean and hand-feeds Keith a mix of local fruits.
There’s still so much the two of them need to talk about.
Shiro knows as good as he feels right now, it’s likely he’ll drop soon. He’ll return to that numb place where he shuts himself off and they need to figure out a way for the two of them to handle that.
Keith admits he’s developed something of a sadistic streak. He tells Shiro how seeing him so miserable and visibly struggling gave him a sick sort of satisfaction, knowing Shiro was suffering just as much as he was. He says there are times when the hurt he feels is so strong and consuming he just spits out the most venomous words he can think of, aiming to cut deep and cause as much pain as he feels. It’s a habit that’s been causing severe tension in his marriage.
Speaking of their marriages, Shiro already has Atlas typing up the necessary paperwork to file for divorce, along with a notice to Coalition with his plans to retire from being their spokesperson.
A relationship with Keith isn’t something that’s going to happen overnight, or even within the next few months if Shiro’s being realistic, but he knows now—being with Keith is inevitable. The Universe created them for each other. There is no Shiro without Keith, or Keith without Shiro.
Shiro belongs to Keith, whether Shiro deserves him or not, and who is Shiro to deny Keith what is rightfully his?