He trusted Keith with his life. He knew that. Keith was a fantastic pilot, but there was something about being pressed between him and the handles of a hoverbike, racing through canyons at top speed, that set Shiro's nerves on edge. Leveling him with steel eyes, he asked an unspoken question.

Keith didn't need to hear the words to know what he was thinking. "Weren't you always the adrenaline junkie, babe?" he retorted, leaning forward to nuzzle at his nose.

"Yes. When I was driving—and could see the trail," Shiro grumbled.

A dangerous smile sprouted across Keith's lips, and he winked. "I promise. You'll like it."

Shiro huffed, tearing his gaze away from those mischievous eyes to stare at the sky. This whole situation had been Keith's idea. Racing was apparently too tame for him now, and he'd wanted to up the ante. A single bat of those long lashes and the curve of his smile while he would say 'please, babe' and Shiro was putty in his hands. That was how he'd found himself seated between Keith's arms on a hoverbike—backwards—about to dive off a cliff, clinging to his waist like Keith was a life preserver and he was drowning. Wind whipped around them as they barreled towards the edge. Shiro tightened his grip, sliding their bodies closer.

"We can't have the leader of Voltron and the Captain of the ATLAS dead at the bottom of the cliff," he murmured.

"Nope. But death never stopped us before," Keith chuckled, placing a quick, messy kiss on his lips. "Shut up and trust me."

Hairs prickled on the back of Shiro's neck; rock formations he knew all too well faded into the distance. They were close. His pulse pounded in his ears. Only about thirty seconds left.

Suddenly, Keith revved the engine, shouting, "Hang on, old-timer!"

Shiro's heart nearly leapt out of his chest as his world tilted on its axis. He grabbed hold of Keith as tightly as he could, and together, they fell off the edge. Time seemed to slow as he watched the man above him in awe. He was biting down on his lower lip, a cocky smile plastered across his face and wicked gleam in his eyes that told Shiro this was exactly what he'd wanted all along.

Losing himself in the drop, Shiro closed his eyes and exhaled long and low. Here, he had no meeting to sit through, no stack of papers waiting to be read and signed, not another memorial speech to write. Weightless and wrapped around the person he trusted most in this lifetime, he could be free from the burdens of the world for a fleeting moment of peace. He didn't have to be sword and shield; he could just be safe in Keith's embrace. But there was only so long they could freefall.

Muscles tensed around his legs. Things were about to get rough. Within the space of a breath, Keith switched gears and pulled them up. Shiro slammed into him as they landed just above the base of the cliff and sped onward. Every nerve he had crackled with lightning. His breath came fast and shallow. He hadn't felt a rush like that in a long time—couldn't—with the weight of responsibility that rested alongside the bars on his shoulders.

He sighed. Keith knew—Keith always knew when he needed a helping hand. Even if that hand was more of a push off a cliff. A smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. There must be a special kind of crazy for people who could relax during a drop like that. Even more so for those who wanted to do it again. Dazed, he let his chin fall into the crook of Keith's neck.

"Wow," Shiro breathed, electricity ebbing from his system, "that was—incredible."

His head filled with a pleasant buzz as the walls of the canyon rolled by in comfortable silence. He felt in the heavy beating of Keith's heart against his own, that there was no place he was more at home. Just the two of them pressed against each other on a bike, except he was no longer seated on the bike. The landing had jostled him with enough force to slide him from his spot on the speeder into a straddle on Keith's lap. Shiro burst into laughter, burying his face in his skin until the endorphine fueled giggles subsided.

Deep chuckles resonated in response in Keith's chest. "You know—you might get a better grip if you were holding my hips instead of my ass, babe."

"What?"

Slowly, Shiro eased the tension in his fingers, still firmly anchored to Keith. Blush burned his face. There was no mistaking it. Of all the places he could've chosen, of course that had been what he'd reached for when they'd dropped. With a sigh, he relinquished his hold on the soft skin and opted to lace his arms around his waist in a loose hug instead.

"I didn't say you should let go entirely," Keith teased, angling his hips to brush back against his palm. "Your hand makes for a pretty nice seat warmer."

Shiro laughed and gave him a quick squeeze. Settling his other hand on Keith's hip, he began to rub small circles into the sensitive spot. Soft rumbles of contentment tumbled from his lips at the touch. Shiro mouthed at his shoulder with warm, open kisses. A bump in the rough terrain jostled the speeder again, and he bit down harder than intended. Keith groaned, slipping into a dark register that Shiro knew was reserved for when he wanted more. Excitement bubbled inside him.

He dug his fingers into Keith's skin and tilted his hips so he could drag his growing arousal languidly between them. A hungry moan filled the air, sending fire searing through Shiro's veins. He loved how he could practically make Keith purr under his touch. It might just be his favorite noise, save for the way Keith's voice would rasp and crack around his name when he fell over a very different kind of edge.

Keith ground back against him, his own burning need separated only by the fabric of their clothes. The speeder lurched forward.

"Easy there, baby," Shiro crooned, planting heated kisses anywhere he could find exposed skin.

"You need to take it easy. Think that dive got you more excited than I'd anticipated."

"So what if it did?" Shiro's hands ran under his shirt and over his body, tearing sounds from Keith's throat best left for secluded corners and darkened rooms.

"Then I suppose I'd better push this thing as fast as it'll go. We need to get you home and onto a bed, Captain."

Shiro's nerves tingled with need. Hot, dangerous desire. He slid his tongue up Keith's jawline, sucking a kiss into the spot he knew would make him squirm. Keith looked so beautiful between his legs, little beads of sweat forming on his brow, hungry to be touched in a way that rivalled his own hunger to touch. But they were both still far too clothed.

"Pull over. Now," Shiro groaned into his ear, the throbbing in his gut threatening to overwhelm him and burn them both to ash.

Keith sighed and leaned his head against Shiro's. "We don't have any on us, babe. You gotta wait til we get to the house." Shiro whined low in defiance and rolled into him harder. Keith bit back a moan. "Let me watch the road. I'll make it worth the wait."

Shiro reached up with his human hand and cupped his cheek. "You always have been."

The tenderness in his words made the universe melt away for a single breathless moment. Unable to contain himself any longer, Shiro grabbed his lips in a kiss that curled his toes and filled his veins with the passion of a burning star. Keith shuddered, surrendering a string of moans into his open mouth.

"From now on we're keeping some in the bike bag," Keith rasped, fighting for air though gasps as he slammed down on the accelerator. The hoverbike roared under them, and they shot forward.

Shiro licked his lips and wound one hand around Keith's back. Slowly, he trailed a line of hot kisses down his neck.

"Fine then." He nipped at his collarbone, sliding his other hand down between them. "Since you're such a good pilot," his fingers found his mark, "don't crash."