This was a terrible idea. An excruciating, tantalizing car crash of an idea. Keith should never have agreed to this. It was everything he'd ever wanted and more. He was never going to be able to come back from this.

Careful metal fingertips traced his jaw, tipping his face up to meet gentle, storm grey eyes. He was close, so close. Keith could count each long, dark eyelash if he weren't so distracted by the way his lungs had stopped working and his heart was trying to escape his ribcage.

"Everything okay?" Shiro asked, quietly.

"Of course," Keith lied.

"It's not too late to turn back."

"It is. You know it is," Keith said. "But it doesn't matter. Everything is fine."

Shiro pulled him in closer, his hand resting at the small of Keith's back. His steady puffs of breath were warm against his neck. "If you're sure," Shiro murmured.

"I'm sure," Keith said.

It was a bald-faced lie; everything was not fine. It was wonderful and devastating and nowhere in between.

Earlier.

"I volunteer Shiro and Keith."

Keith balked, glaring at Lance with eyes too wide.

"Come on. You guys are practically married, anyway."

"We are not!"

Lance raised his hands in surrender. "Calm down, man. I was just joking. …Kind of. But for real, you guys could legitimately fake a relationship and look the closest to the Graxari, and we need every advantage we can take."

"Lance is correct," Allura said. "Don't forget, Graxarion is the only remaining supplier of rezanite we know of."

"And we need it to maintain the pods. I know, I know. But you can shapeshift," Keith said, looking at Allura. "Wouldn't that be better?"

The Graxari weren't a particularly open-minded race. Downright xenophobic, actually; they only trusted those who looked and acted similarly to them. Appearance-wise, Shiro and Keith didn't have their starry blue sclera or the same chalky complexion, but their pale skin and dark hair were a pretty close match. But acting…?

"I do not know Shiro the way you do," Allura said, as if merely stating a fact. And, well, it wasn't untrue. "Remember, according to our intel, the Graxari value long-standing intimate relationships above all else. Part of the trial involves an interrogation and careful observation to verify the relationship is real. It is supposedly quite rigorous; others have attempted to falsify a relationship in the past. I cannot be confident that Shiro and I have known one another long enough to pass such a test."

"Allura's right," Shiro said. He met Keith's eyes, his gaze soft and pleading. "It would only be for a spicolian movement. Would it really be so bad?"

A spicolian movement, and then it would be over, and the gaping hole in Keith's chest would be torn open even further. It would be the best, worst week of Keith's life.

"As long as you play the part, it'll practically be a vacation," Coran said. "And ancients know you could both use a break." He shot Keith a subtle glance: Shiro could use a break.

And there it was. Even if were able to resist the temptation, he couldn't refuse now. Shiro was always so stressed, so on edge. He needed this.

Keith could do this for Shiro.

"Okay," he conceded. "I'll do it."

"Excellent!" Allura said, grinning a bit too enthusiastically. "I will send a message to the Graxari right away."

"You guys are gonna make the cutest couple!" Hunk said, clasping his hands together, eyes sparkling. "You guys should hold hands. Like, right now."

"We're not on Graxarion yet," Keith said, folding his arms and glaring at Hunk. He didn't dare take Shiro's hand now; he couldn't be sure heat wouldn't rise to his cheeks, and he'd be damned if he let the others see him blush.

"In due time," Shiro said. His eyes flickered back to Keith. "C'mon. This could be fun. I know you used to play pretend all the time as a kid. It'll be just like that."

"That was confidential," Keith said with a scowl, hoping it hid from his face the way the words turned his heart into the Titanic.

"My bad." Shiro's lips pulled up into an easy, playful smile. And just like that, Keith's stomach filled with butterflies, flip-flopping and leaping into his throat.

Heart, lungs, stomach, lower; Keith's body couldn't handle a week of this. Takashi Shirogane was going to be the death of him.

Strike one.

"Why do you not show proper affection?" Their Graxari chaperone, whose name Keith had forgotten, narrowed his eyes. He'd introduced himself, but his name had gone in one ear and out the other; there was only one person on Keith's mind. "We have been in the carriage for nearly a varga, and yet you barely touch."

It wasn't a good sign—their chaperone was to report to the Queens on their behaviour, which would determine whether or not they got an audience. Keith felt Shiro stiffen beside him ever so slightly, before saying, "Keith's just a little shy."

"You do not trust us to see?" the Graxari asked. A warning.

"Of course I do," Keith said. He leaned against Shiro, letting him take his weight. It was a safe gesture; nothing they hadn't done before.

Too safe, apparently.

Shiro took his hand in his. They'd held hands before, a subtle squeeze for reassurance, or a desperate grasp to hold on in dire situations. But never like this, not with their fingers laced together, fitting together just right.

And then, and then, Shiro leaned in closer and pressed a tender kiss to Keith's cheek. Keith froze. His heart lurched; his lungs stuttered. Blood rushed to his face, and there was no doubt Shiro could feel the warmth of his blush against his lips.

Shiro smiled as he pulled away. "See?" he said to the Graxari, gesturing at Keith. "Shy."

Keith's face turned even redder, this time with embarrassment. He elbowed Shiro in the ribs, which only made Shiro's smile broaden into something genuine.

"Hm." The chaperone nodded, still suspicious but seemingly appeased, for now. Keith felt the tension fall away from Shiro's shoulders.

It took a while to get from where they'd landed on Graxarion to the heart of the crowded capital city, where the palace was located. The city was so different from what they'd seen before; most of the places they visited had much smaller populations. Here, twisting, colourful skyscrapers reached higher than the eye could see. A mix of futuristic and old-fashioned, animal-drawn carriages travelled across skywalks through the pink clouds.

Keith didn't care all that much about the architecture—buildings were buildings—but he did quietly appreciate the open awe on Shiro's face as he gazed out the window of the carriage, taking in the view. It filled Keith with warmth and nostalgia. Even after everything he'd been through, Shiro was still an explorer at heart.

After another half varga of Shiro observing their surroundings and Keith observing Shiro and their chaperone observing them both, the giraffe-deer-unicorns pulling the carriage ground to a halt.

Shiro hopped out of the carriage first and offered Keith his hand in a ridiculous gentlemanly gesture. Keith rolled his eyes, but he took it. Shiro didn't let go, threading their hands together once more as the chaperone led them inside the massive palace and took them to their quarters.

The room was small, intimate. Notably, there was only one bed in the middle of the room, and it wasn't particularly large. There was no couch. Keith shoved it to the back of his mind. They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.

"I will escort you to the welcome feast in a varga," the chaperone said. "Until then, please make yourselves at home."

"Thank you," Shiro said, his voice tinged with what Keith knew to be relief. It had barely been two vargas since they'd landed. Was he that sick of pretending to be in a relationship with Keith already? Maybe… maybe he was just tired. But once the chaperone had left, he couldn't let go of Keith's hand fast enough.

It was a reminder that this was all just an act. Keith couldn't let himself forget.

Keith flopped down on the mattress. Shiro sat down at the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. If he didn't want to touch Keith any more than he had to, that was fine. Completely, one hundred percent fine.

Shiro caught his eye. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there."

Keith shook his head. "It's not like you've never made fun of me before."

"No, I meant for… you know."

"It saved us," Keith said. "It's fine. I—I wasn't uncomfortable."

Shiro gave him a wry smile. "You don't have to lie to me. You were so tense I thought you were going to snap in two. We're alone, now. You don't have to pretend. If—if you want us to find another way to form this alliance, I'm sure we can figure something out."

"No. I…" I want this. More than anything. Keith was just a slip of the tongue away from admitting it, but he couldn't; he couldn't mess up their friendship with his stupid feelings.

If Shiro ever found out, he would pull away, put distance between them, the way he had with everyone who'd ever shown interest in him. He didn't want to give them the wrong impression; it wasn't fair to them when he didn't return their affection.

If Shiro found out, it would change everything, and Keith couldn't handle losing what they had. Their friendship was the only constant in Keith's ever-changing universe; Shiro was the star that kept him from falling out of orbit. He couldn't lose that, couldn't lose him again in any capacity. Shiro could never know.

"We can't back out now," Keith said. "But it's fine. Really. There are worse things than a week of having to pretend I'm in love with my best friend." Like years and years of having to pretend he wasn't in love with his best friend.

"Okay. Well, if you change your mind at any point, I want you to let me know. You're more important to me than this alliance."

Keith shook his head. "More important than restoring the pods? I shouldn't be."

Shiro shrugged. "Should or shouldn't, there's nothing you could do that would change my mind."

Keith couldn't help but smile. "Sap." Back at the Garrison, Shiro used to wear his heart on his sleeve, open and honest and unbearably genuine. That had changed, and Keith didn't love him any less for it. But once in a while, Garrison-Shiro would resurface, and Keith could lose himself in memories of happier times.

When Shiro slipped to the bathroom, Keith pulled out his tablet to check in with the Castle. He regretted it as soon as Lance answered.

"Hey there, lovebird," Lance greeted. He turned around, calling to the others, "Hey guys, it's Keith. Aw, look at that little smile. He's got it sooo bad."

Keith glowered at him.

Hunk popped up beside Lance. "Have you guys confessed your true feelings for each other yet?"

"What? No!"

"Told you," Pidge said, poking her head out. "Keith's just gonna keep quietly pining over Shiro until it kills him."

"I'm not pining over anyone," Keith growled.

Lance let out an obnoxious, too-loud laugh. "Yeah, and Hunk doesn't like food, and Pidge doesn't like computers."

"Go away," Keith hissed. "I don't want to talk to you guys. Where's Allura?"

The Princess pushed her way onto the screen. "Hello, Keith," she said. She clasped her hands together with a wide grin. "Have you and Shiro kissed yet?"

Keith let out an exasperated groan, dragging a hand through his hair. "Our mission is going fine, thanks for asking. We made it to the palace. We have a chaperone—"

"Oooh."

"Shut up, Hunk. The intel checks out. We're under observation most of the time. We'll get to meet with the Queens at the end of the spicolian movement as long as we pass some trials and the guy watching us buys the act."

"And that is going well? Your chaperone does not suspect anything so far?" Allura asked.

"We've… got it under control."

"I'm sure they found a way to convince him," Lance said with an exaggerated wink, to which Allura giggled.

Keith scowled. He hated all of them. "That's it. Nothing else to report."

"Give Shiro a kiss for m—"

Keith cut the line, and not a moment too soon. Barely a tick later, Shiro emerged from the bathroom.

"I heard voices. Were you talking to the Castle?"

"Uh. Yeah. Did you hear any of that?" Keith asked.

Shiro shook his head, and Keith silently sighed with relief. "Did I miss anything?"

"No. I just gave them a really quick update. Told them we made it to the palace."

"Well, thanks for doing that." Shiro settled back down beside Keith on the bed. "So what do you wanna do until Visran comes back?"

"Who?"

Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Our chaperone?"

"Right. Whatever. Doesn't matter. Anything, as long as it's not those stupid cat videos you got from Pidge."

Shiro grinned. "I'd forgotten about those."

"Worst varga of my life."

Shiro had been inordinately excited when Pidge had found them, and just like he used to make Keith watch all sorts of not-actually-funny videos he'd find when they were back at the Garrison, he'd gone straight to Keith and made him watch clip after clip of mildly amusing cat antics.

Keith knew Shiro didn't honestly find them that entertaining; it had been an exercise in nostalgia more than anything. So he had indulged him. Outwardly, he'd been grudging about it, but he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"Round two will be better. Promise," Shiro said, reaching for his tablet.

"Can't be worse," Keith grumbled, hiding the way his lips turned up. He scooted over until their shoulders touched.

Shiro didn't seem to mind.

Strike two.

"No."

"We have to," Shiro said, though he was barely holding back a grimace. "It's—it's just food. My hands are clean. I'll use my left. Or right, if the metal would be less weird?"

"I don't care which hand it is. I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."

"I don't think anyone is questioning that," Shiro said, faintly. He gestured to all the other tables around them, where every Graxari pair was feeding each other with their bare hands, fingers in each other's mouths. Keith pulled a face. "This is about fitting in. It'll—it'll be fine."

Gingerly, Keith picked up one of the items on the plate: a slimy, orange, wakame-like substance. "You first."

"What? No, it's your turn," Shiro insisted.

Keith frowned. "How is it my turn?"

"You've already fed me. Remember?"

Of course Keith remembered. He couldn't scrub the image from his mind, of Shiro in the days—weeks—after finding him in that Galra fighter, laid up in bed, too weak to lift a cup or spoon to his lips.

"I used utensils," Keith said.

"And I appreciate that," Shiro said. "It's still your turn."

"No way. You're the leader. Lead by example. Open up," Keith said, shoving a fist full of orange jelly strands in front of Shiro's face.

Shiro flinched away. "No."

"Don't be a baby. Open wide. Here comes the airplane."

Breath hitching, Shiro's eyes went wide and he ducked away. It was far too strong a reaction.

"Is there a problem?" The two of them whirled around to find their chaperone at their table. "Is the food not to your liking?"

"N-no. No problem," Shiro stammered. He couldn't seem to find his usual composure. What was with him?

"We were just reminiscing about the first time I fed Shiro," Keith offered. "It was, uh, very intimate. So I was just telling him it's his turn to feed me. Right?"

"I… Right. Yeah."

Keith gestured with his eyes to pick up the food. With a trembling hand, Shiro grabbed a clump of something lumpy and purple, bringing it to Keith's lips. Keith did his best not to wince as Shiro shoved the food inside his mouth, did his best not to notice the feeling of Shiro's fingers as they touched his lips and tongue.

Keith chewed and swallowed. It was too sweet and had a strange aftertaste. "It's great," he told the chaperone, with his best attempt at a polite smile. He wished he were a better liar.

Vis-whatever stared at him with his strange, night sky eyes. They were impossible to read. "Good to hear it, Paladin," he said. His voice betrayed no emotion, either, but it sounded like a warning. "Be sure to save room for dessert."

"Great. Dessert. Can't wait."

Keith wiped the orange slime from his fingers on the napkin provided, and then placed his hand over Shiro's. As soon as the chaperone was out of earshot, he asked in a low whisper, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Of course. I'm fine," Shiro said, tersely.

Keith gave him a flat stare.

"It's nothing. It's stupid. It's—it's just food."

"It's just food, but…?" Keith coaxed.

"But I just… I don't like not having control over it," Shiro whispered, not quite meeting his eyes. He gave a self-deprecating smile. "Like I said, it's stupid."

Keith shook his head. "It's not." He didn't need to ask about the circumstances leading to his aversion. "We don't have to do this. I'm sure nobody would be horribly offended if you just fed yourself."

"We have to blend in. We need this alliance," Shiro insisted.

"That's not what you said back in the room."

"This is different."

"Yeah," Keith said, pointedly. "It is."

Shiro took a metered breath. "It's fine, Keith. I'll be fine. Really. I—I know I can trust you."

"Alright," Keith conceded. "But if we have to stop, that's fine. Let me know, okay? We'll take it slow."

"Yeah," Shiro said with a steady exhale. "We'll take it slow."

They made it through dinner. They made it through dessert. Keith wasn't going to make it through this dance.

Keith's nerves were going haywire. Every muscle was tense, too tense.

"You can relax," Shiro murmured, his head resting on Keith's shoulder. As if he could when their bodies were pressed so tightly together. "We're blending in just fine."

"Feels like an elementary school dance," Keith muttered. Like all the other couples around them, they barely moved, just slowly swaying back and forth. They were synchronized with each other but completely off rhythm; neither was paying attention to the beat of the strange music over the speakers.

A soft laugh escaped Shiro. "You actually went to those?"

"Once. Foster parents forced me to go."

"I bet you had fun." Keith couldn't see Shiro's face, but he knew which smile he was wearing—the playful, teasing one Keith adored but pretended to hate.

"Worst two hours of my life."

"I thought the cat videos had that honour," Shiro said.

"The cat videos win for vargas. I wasn't measuring in vargas back then."

Shiro huffed out a laugh. "If you're really having that bad a time, we can tell the Graxari we want to retire early."

"No," Keith said, a little too quickly. "I'm—I'm not having a bad time."

He regretted his tone as soon as the words slipped out. It was too genuine. He had to more careful. It was only a matter of time before he slipped, just a matter of time before he gave himself away.

Shiro nuzzled closer. "I'm glad you're here with me."

"…Yeah."

This could only end badly. It was going to leave Keith in pieces. This was a terrible, terrible idea.