A/N: Actual title of this is 'War is Hell' but ffnet is hella stringent with its titling feature
M for explicit sexual content
Enjoy!
It'd been far too long.
Months from Shiro's perspective, years from Keith's. But they found themselves feeling evenly matched, aching with what seemed to be eons of pent-up lust on the arduous road to get back to one another.
There was no time to be wasted, Black set forward on her course with Pidge's coordinates and Krolia keeping an eye on the cockpit, pretending she didn't know just what it was her son was running off in such a hurry to do.
The cargo hold was as good as they were gonna get, Shiro immediately finding a spot of the wall not stacked with boxes and shoving Keith against it. The sharp throb of metal pressing into his spine didn't deter, Keith greedily grabbing Shiro's collar and yanking him down to his level, lips finding one another automatically. Shiro crowded him against the wall, hand reaching up and grabbing Keith's helmet by the brim, tearing it off his head and throwing it down on a crate beside them. Keith moaned as thick fingers crawled through his hair and tore his head back, teeth claiming his neck and hips pressing against his own. The rare occasions of Shiro being as impatient as he was had always been a treat.
But even Keith could admit that even he wasn't used to being this exasperated. His head was absolutely spinning, he could feel Shiro's hand tightening and loosening in his hair, wanting to move but unsure of where to go with too much riddling his mind to keep straight.
Keith hissed at a violent suckle against his neck, eyes rolling back and hips bucking. "Eager," he teased breathlessly.
His voice guided Shiro back from his over-stimulated high, allowing him to pull back a hair and let hot breath wash over Keith's neck just to watch him shudder. "Would you like me to stop?" he asked, breath heavy as he turned to kiss his chin.
"You stop and I'm crashing this damn lion," Keith snapped, standing on his toes and latching his teeth into the only bare piece of Shiro's neck he could access. Shiro hummed, finding a new victim spot on Keith's throat as his hand slid down over his armor, stopping finally with his hand cupped over Keith's ass and urgently gripping at his skin. He forced him to press forward against himself, hips grinding against one another and the thin, tight fabric of their suits leaving little to the imagination.
Keith let out a small whine as hot skin pressed against him, lifting from the settling mark on Shiro's neck, hands on their own missions as they demandingly grabbed at the bottom of Shiro's chest plate, trying to push it off and over his head. Shiro yanked back his head to oblige, lifting his arm to easily slide out of his covering and Keith letting it fall aside with a loud thunk against the metal flooring. Keith hurriedly made way to tug off his own, overwhelmed and overexcited and getting himself twisted under the plating.
Shiro paused from his own hormonal frenzy to watch him struggling and cursing up a storm beneath the scarred red and white protection. He couldn't help but break out into a soft round of laughter, gray eyes smoldering fondly as Keith whined and hopped in place trying to get free. Slim fingers cresting over the neck hole waved at him in defeat, posture slumping and Shiro laughed louder, hearing a distinct growl from inside Keith's prison. His face shifted into a lopsided grin, hand moving to grip the neck of the armor and slowly sliding it off as Keith's arms fumbled to follow its path. Shiro tossed the damning piece aside, meeting the firm, embarrassed pout waiting for him underneath.
"We never speak of that," Keith said, lips twisted and cheeks glowing in the low lighting of the hold.
Shiro snickered, "Oh no. Never. Wouldn't dream of it," he teased.
Keith muttered under his breath before feeling that lump of skin pressing into his hip and immediately losing every ounce of humility as he melted into Shiro's touch. Shiro's arm made quick work to trap his slim waist in the crook, lips finding each other once more and satisfied moans seeping from their throats. Deft fingers moved to the collar of Shiro's jumpsuit, urging it to reveal more skin as another hand slid down, boldly planting itself on the outlines of a hardened cock. Shiro shuddered at the nearly-forgotten touch, Keith smirking at the way his breath stuttered as his palm made a show of stroking him nice and slow.
Shiro's own hand left its position, grabbing at Keith's suit and yanking it down to fall off his shoulders and wrap around his upper arms. Lips parted and teeth busied themselves with making marks on the new territory, hips pulsing against a keen hand.
"-eith?" a voice breeched among the sounds of heavy panting and sloppy kisses.
They paused, stomachs dropping as they glanced towards the abandoned helmet resting beside them.
"KEITH! ANSWER US, YOU ASSHOLE!" Lance's voice picked up with clarity, Shiro unwillingly pulling himself up from Keith's shoulder and Keith's teeth gritting in frustration.
He took his hands back from Shiro, shooting him an apologetic glance at his subtle, longing flinch as he snatched the helmet from the crate and held the device between their faces. "WHAT?!" he snapped, feeling Shiro giving a weak chuckle as he remained pressed against him, both unwilling to lose the closeness they'd been missing out on for so goddamn long.
"Hey, Leader," Lance drawled, "maybe listen to the rest of your team when we're talking?"
Keith rolled his eyes. "What? What is so fucking important?!"
"We're approaching some kind of weird anomaly," Pidge answered, Keith and Shiro hearing the background noise of the subtle beeps as she typed a plethora of information onto her screen. "I'm not sure what it is, and I doubt we should risk going straight through since we're limited on power, but to go around it, we're going to have to manually head through a pretty big belt of debris."
"Oh my god," Keith mouthed, teeth grinding and shaking his head. "How long until we get there?"
"Uh, we're like… there," Hunk replied. "We got about three minutes, tops. Are you not looking out your window or-"
"I had something to take care of," he spat, Shiro finally taking a step back from him and both of them aching to just goddamn risk it and hope Black could figure it out and take over. "I'll be up to the cockpit in a minute."
The clear sound of Allura scoffing flew through the speaker. "Well hurry up," she insisted. "It would be rather pathetic if you were taken out by trash of all things."
Keith rolled his eyes, putting the helmet back on the crate and going back to cursing up a storm as he and Shiro parted ways to each retrieve their breastplates on opposite sides of the hold. Shiro watched him angrily stomping about as he forced the armor back over his body, shaking his head with a long sigh. He joined him in returning to fully clothed and grabbed Keith's helmet, walking over towards his fuming posture and tapping his chin up with two fingers.
He gave him a smile as Keith looked up with a pout, gray eyes marred in a mess of yearning and duty. "We'll get time," he promised him.
Keith sighed, falling forward and plopping his forehead on Shiro's chest. "We goddamn better. We've fuckin' earned it." Shiro nodded, planting a small kiss atop his head and taking a deep breath of the sweated, leathery scent that Keith always carried on him like a badge. He missed it, far more than he thought he could find it in himself to verbally admit.
They stood together for a few seconds longer, forcing their bodies to will themselves the fuck down before finally managing to stand and step apart from one another. Keith twisted his lips. "Ready?"
Shiro shrugged, "I'm just the observer. Are you?"
"No," he muttered, grabbing his helmet from Shiro and shoving it down over his mussed hair, gripping Shiro's hand in its place and turning to lead him out of the hold and their lingering tension back into the fray.
Keith was always considered a quiet person by nature when he was feeling anything but angry. Talking came hard to him and he had more than enough issues trying to force himself to not even yell in pain amid a battle to acknowledge some form of weakness an enemy exploited.
But here, in moments like these, nothing could keep him quiet.
He was nothing but hungry moans and stifled, satisfied hums with Shiro's cock situated so pleasantly in his mouth. The heat pressed against his tongue, rounding each curvature as his head slowly bobbed along the thick length.
Shiro let out a long, happy groan, head falling back and fingers moving to slide through Keith's thick hair to tautly grip the back of his head, urging him along. Keith shuddered, propping himself up higher on his knees with his elbows on Shiro's thighs. A slim, firm hand pumped along his shaft with each lift of his head, the tip of his tongue slipping up through salted drips with each pass-by.
Shiro watched him, stomach twisted in lust and affection. He couldn't help a silent, if not a bit guilty, thankful prayer that Krolia had departed their group and left with Kolivan. He and Keith hadn't had one goddamn moment alone together in months, each attempt to sneak off met with another disaster to be averted or one of them just too goddamn tired to do much more than a heavy make-out session.
But now, they had the lion all to themselves.
As soon as they'd boarded from helping send Krolia and Kolivan on their way and got back on course, they'd wasted no time. Keith had immediately stood and shoved Shiro back into Black's pilot seat and made quick work of helping him tear down his jumpsuit to his calves. Shiro definitely couldn't find himself complaining about such a rapid flurry of events, Keith's mouth already back at home around his cock before he could even think of any kind of protest.
Keith's own cock throbbed incessantly in the confines of his suit, but ignored it, far too preoccupied with the taste of hot skin flooding every sense. Closed eyes tried to roll back with fingers gripping even tighter through his hair and a small whimper breaking through his throat.
He'd missed this, how Shiro would have every ounce of attention focused on him, how happy and satisfied they both could be. He'd found himself longing for this taste for fucking years, had driven himself mad with brokenhearted memories and vivid dreams that had him awakening in a sweated mess time and again. But now, he had it once more. He had Shiro's quiet murmurs of praise and his harsh but loving hand. He had the way Shiro's thighs quivered under his touch, he had the gratification in knowing that he was the one person that could completely break Shiro from a practiced mantra of patience, driving him crazy until he couldn't take it any longer and couldn't stop himself from all but attacking Keith in a heady frenzy.
Shiro let out another breathy moan and Keith smirked, body giving a smug wriggle in his excitement hearing those noises again. "Hmmmm?" he taunted, sliding his mouth off and keeping his hand going, trying to catch his breath with his tongue darting forward to slip around his head.
Shiro grinned, tugging fingers loosening and petting him affectionately. "You missed this," he teased.
"Mhmm," he agreed with a subtle nod, blue eyes half-lidded and smoldering, making damn sure Shiro was watching him so eagerly lapping at his dripping cock like it was his last chance of sustenance. His teeth parted, and he took him in once more, hand slipping off his cock and both making their way down Shiro's thighs to grip his hips. He pressed himself forward, throat convulsing in a light choke as he took him down deeper into the wet chasm of his mouth.
Mouth dropping agape and jaw trembling, Shiro's fingers curled along black locks yet again, unsure if he wanted to press him down deeper in a fit of greed or just let Keith keep doing what he was so damn good at on his own.
A sharp beep tore his attention away from Keith's eager, bobbing head, expression dropping as Hunk's face appeared onscreen in front of him. "Keith whaddya want-" he paused, blinking at the unexpected and very red face he was speaking to. "…Hi, Shiro. Where's Keith?"
Keith paused, turning and looking back up with Shiro's cock hanging out of his mouth, eyes wide with panic. His heart slowed in the slightest, remembering that they could only see at head level and heaving a quiet, long sigh of relief.
Shiro blinked, at a loss before urgent fingers dug into his thighs. "Uh… b-bathroom," he stammered. "He's… he's there. Not here. Definitely not here."
"Well what do you two want for dinner?" he asked.
Keith looked between the screen and his fumbling boyfriend, a wicked grin spreading over his face as he dove back down into place, Shiro's hand nearly ripping out strands of hair in his surprise.
"Uh… uh…" Shiro tried, eyes fluttering and nearly choking on his words. "Whatever you wanna make, Hunk. We're not picky."
"Well, I got sandwiches made up, no preferences?" he pressed.
Shiro shook his head rapidly, "No, no preference, that's fine is that all?" he said, voice turning to a near whine as Keith pressed himself faster, tongue sliding so fluidly in a sloppy bliss around his throbbing dick.
"The heck is the matter with you?"
"I'm tired," he insisted, so vehemently torn between ripping Keith off him or making him work harder, his mind found itself in a misty muddle of desire and apprehension.
Hunk nodded slowly as he packed lunches, Shiro just about to just switch off the fucking feed. "Makes sense, I can only imagine it's been hard for you these past few weeks."
"You have no idea," Shiro muttered, having to stop himself from glaring down at Keith for his silent snickering around him.
Shiro held back a groan as the feed switched to Lance's face. "Hey, quick question," Lance started, Shiro's face tightening but permitting a nod through a twitching eye as Keith's hand slid back onto his shaft for a round of steady pumps. Lance paused, blinking at him. "Well. Two, actually. One: Do you think the Garrison will be pissed at me, Pidge, and Hunk for running off?"
'You've got to be kidding me,' Shiro thought in a desperate exasperation. "I-I don't know, Lance, that's not my c-call," he gulped, forcing down a heavy moan.
He nodded, "All right. Well, two: Where the hell is your shirt?"
Shiro's face erupted with more color, gray eyes wide. "I was… hot. Black can get… overheated. Because she's bigger there's more… cooling needed to… other… parts and not the… here," he said ineloquently.
Lance quirked his brow, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You sure you're just tired?"
"Yep. Yep yep," he nodded vigorously. "Exhausted. Wiped. Busy few months you kno-" a sudden flash of blue and white light blazed beside him, body jerking up in shock and Keith losing grip on him, getting a throatful of unexpected cock and instinctively jumping up and back in a choking fit. He fell back onto the front console, hacking and gripping at his throat. He panted, looking to see Kosmo staring at him expectantly with their dinners around his neck, tail wagging.
Shiro slowly looked back at the screen, Lance's face twisting in realization before he started to shout. "OH EW! EW GUYS WHAT THE FUCK!"
"What? What happened? You okay?" Pidge's voice came through past a yawn.
"NO! I'M SCARRED FOR LIFE!"
"Lance, what is the matter with you?" Allura asked, Shiro's face falling to hide in his hand and shake his head. Maybe death was more tolerable than this.
Lance's hands went up beside his face, waving in disgust. "Keith was fucking blowing Shiro!"
Keith finally found his breath again, face blossoming as he stomped over angrily and bent down to stare at the screen head-on. "I was not!"
"YOU STILL HAVE FUCKING DROOL ON YOUR CHIN!"
"Boy, I hope it's just drool," Pidge muttered.
Hunk popped up with a long whine. "Guys, come onnn. I was talking to you, that's not cool!"
Keith growled, glancing behind him at Shiro awkwardly slinking to the ground out of view to pull his suit back on. "We weren't doing anything," he insisted, nearly flinching as the screen shifted to Pidge's face, looking at him wryly.
"Then why are you so red?" She asked coolly.
He forced out an indignant scoff, "Because Lance is accusing us of-"
"The truth?" she finished, watching Keith's face twist into a further scowl. She rolled her eyes, "Next time, could you maybe not involve us in your little exhibitionism fetish?"
"WE WEREN'T-" he stopped as the screen switched to Allura with a disappointed frown on her face, nearly groaning and beating his head into his hands as Shiro managed to stand up and hide himself behind the pilot seat. Keith plopped down into his chair and heaved a long, frustrated sigh, trying to stop his aching cock from throwing its unfulfilled fit. "What?" he snapped.
She shook her head, "The lions are not your little playhouse. They deserve more respect than that."
Shiro sighed, forehead falling onto the back of Keith's chair. "We're sorry," he muttered.
"For nothing!" Keith spat. "We didn't do anything wron-"
"Keith, you're a terrible liar," Allura cut him off. "We're switching passengers on one of the asteroids coming up ahead. Shiro can go with Pidge and you can take your wolf back."
A flare of fury sparked in his chest, unable to cope with the idea of even more time without Shiro's touch. "I'm the leader and I say the arrangements are fine as they are," he said, jamming his index finger onto his leg.
She rolled her eyes, "And as leader, you should be fine with a paladin vote since we're a team. All in favor of separating them so they don't besmirch the black lion?"
"Aye," three voices chimed in.
"Pidge, find us an asteroid to land on," Allura finished firmly, the screen switching off in front of them and leaving a pair of angry and desperate faces alone once more.
Keith frowned, nose scrunching in frustration. "This is mutiny," he hissed.
Shiro sighed again, finally reaching down and grabbing the sandwiches from Kosmo's knapsack, handing one to his infuriated boyfriend. Keith scoffed, throwing it on the console in front of him and crossing his arms, bristling childishly. "It's not mutiny, Keith."
"May as well be," he grumbled, looking down at coordinates flashing on the screen before him. "We got three minutes, pretty sure even a quickie couldn't help before then."
"Not even we're that good," he chuckled flatly. He looked down at Keith's frustration and twisted his lips, hand reaching down to grab his chin and tilt him to plant a long kiss on his cheek. "Keith, I promise, when we get back to Earth, we'll find somewhere and have more than ten minutes alone."
Dark blue met his stare and a long sigh wormed its way through Keith's nose. "Promise?" he muttered.
Shiro gave him a small smile and a nod, pecking his pouting lips and chuckling. "They'll have to drag you away from what I'm gonna do to you, because you sure won't be able to walk," he purred, grinning at Keith stiffening in attention and an excited glitter shooting through his eyes. He gave him another kiss. "I promise."
The Garrison hadn't exactly been the definition of accommodating to the paladins, at first trying to cram them all into one small apartment to save room in case of additional support being added. It'd taken a few days, but Shiro had finally managed to convince Admiral Sanda to give him his own quarters.
For the time to conceive the most effective of battle strategies, of course.
But defense grid layouts and Atlas blueprints had been shoved aside as the night patrol went on duty and Shiro and the paladins were merely put on-call, ordered to get rest for the day ahead of them. Rest, however, was the furthest thing from the minds of the two on Shiro's bed.
Keith had found himself shoved in and thrown to the bed by Shiro's shining new arm before he could so much as blink. This was the kind of rough treatment he'd been missing in the flurry of battles he'd underwent over the years. Those had nothing but the satisfaction of victory, this satisfaction extended far above and beyond anything a mere downed enemy could.
Forced onto spread knees and his face slammed against the mattress, he found himself letting loose and moaning wantonly as a pleased tongue found itself dancing around his ass for minutes on end. He shivered, fist curling into the blanket beneath him and hips pressing back against Shiro's teasing mouth as it toyed with delving inside. Shiro tauntingly reached up, tugging on his cadet shirt and Keith groaned, trembling hands trying so hard to make quick work of the requested job.
Fumbling fingers barely managed to undo buttons without breaking them clean off, shoulders rolling and arms bending awkwardly as he tried to pry the jacket off. Shiro helped, grabbing the fabric with force and hurling it to the other side of his room, both hands returning to the globes of Keith's ass to pry them apart. That damn tongue continued its provocative games and Keith let out a loud, long whine.
"Shirooo, come on," he urged, bucking back and growling at a low chuckle as Shiro evaded his pressing and lifted his head.
He planted a hot, wet kiss along his lower back. "Whaddya want, Keith?" he purred.
"You know what I want, you prick," he hissed, fingers scratching anxiously on the mattress.
"Gotta tell me what," Shiro grinned, nipping one of the round globes in his hand and watching Keith squirm.
Keith's face was beyond red, lost in a mess of pleasant humiliation and irritation. "Get your fucking tongue inside of me, god-fucking-dammit!" he snapped.
Shiro smiled wider, glancing down at the hole so eagerly awaiting him and humming before pressing his face down, tongue slowly swiping its way to its target before pressing inside.
Keith's head was spinning, suddenly beyond aware of how very naked he was and how Shiro still remained fully dressed in his pilot's uniform. But any embarrassment that could have came with such a realization melted away with a happy hum from Shiro vibrating against his skin, his insides rattling. A yip left his throat as Shiro's metal hand reared back and smacked his ass, eyes rolling with the intense pressure that pulsed through the impact point. He could feel his cock dripping onto the sheets underneath of them, his spread legs quivering.
Shiro was beyond himself, so fucking giddy at the taste of Keith's showered skin and the heat of his body passing through to his tongue. He loved how Keith lost every ounce of the dignity he attempted to uphold in daily interactions when he had him in this position. He couldn't help but grin, thinking of watching Keith battling so many foes, growing into the leader he'd become with a stoic demeanor and a mind for getting the job done. And now, he had him here, whimpering and moaning like he was being paid to do so, panting through an open mouth and begging for Shiro to destroy him in the way that only he knew how.
It was a matter of pride, Shiro had figured out long ago, being the one to obliterate the inhibitions of someone so single-minded as Keith could be. But even that smugness aside, it was still just a thrill to make him so happy. He loved Keith, and he loved making Keith feel so damn good.
He pulled his tongue from its spot, adoring the distressed cry coming from Keith and grinning. He moved to perch up on his knees before leaning over the slim body waiting like a feast just for him. His hand trickled up a spiny back before clutching around Keith's chin, forcing him to look back at him with dazed blue eyes. He smirked, prosthetic gripping Keith's hip and holding him still as he pressed his clothed groin against his moistened ass. Keith whined, trying to buck back until being stopped by firm metal fingers. Shiro leaned further, pressing their lips together and Keith moaned, eyes fluttering.
"You've been waiting a long time, huh?" he asked with another emphasizing grind.
"Uh… uh-huh," Keith nodded, past the point of words. Such a long time. Such a goddamn long time.
Shiro's breath rattled at the desperation in his tone, the pleading over his expression. His own cock ached being confined for so long, wanting so badly to slide into the tight heat before him. "Tell me what you want," he urged.
"You," Keith said, eyes half-lidded against the intensity of Shiro's stare. "You, you, you, please," he whispered in a frantic fumble, fingers pained as they delved further into the blanket.
"Well you asked so nicely," Shiro teased, reaching past him towards the nightstand and ripping open the top drawer. He bent down and bit along Keith's back, loving the squeaks and moans each nip provided him. He blindly searched under papers and slim procedural manuals, finding a carefully concealed plastic bottle tucked into a corner and a box beside it, moving to rip them out. He threw them onto the bed and gave Keith's ass another heady slap, watching him flinch with a pleasured purr and shaking himself against Shiro's grinding for more. "There you go-" he started before a rapid knocking took his attention.
They both paused, looking back at the door with twitching eyes.
"You can't be serious," Keith said, head shaking.
"Misheard," Shiro said, half statement and half prayer. "Maybe we just mishear-"
"Shirogane!" a gruff voice called. "We need you in the briefing room."
"Oh my god," Keith said, eyes closing and teeth gritting.
Shiro looked between him and the door. "One moment!" he called out, hopping up from his spot and pushing on Keith's back to press him against the bed with a hiss at the sudden friction against his dick. "Just stay still," he whispered, grabbing the bunched-up quilt from the edge of the bed and throwing it over his disheveled form.
He cleared his throat, straightening up and smoothing out his uniform as he made way over to the door and pulled it open just enough for only his head to peek through, finding himself face-to-face with Commander Iverson.
"I'm sorry, Commander, what for?" he asked.
Iverson frowned, "Does it matter? You're being called on. We have reason to believe the Galra are planning a hostile mission against another city."
Shiro nodded, "Right. I'll be there in just a few minutes," he promised, getting a return nod from the commander. He watched as he turned heel and made way back down the hall before closing the door with a sigh, staring sadly at the lump under the covers. "I'm sorry, Keith," he murmured, moving to sit next to him on the bed.
"We're not getting time together until this is done. Are we?" Keith mumbled, face pressed down into the mattress. He could feel the quilt being moved from his head and dropped at his hips, a comforting hand coming up to stroke through his hair.
"I don't know," Shiro said, voice just as miserable as the sudden feeling flooding the room. "Doesn't seem like it."
Keith's face finally turned, looking up at Shiro with a long sigh. "I miss you."
He gave him a small, sad smile, "I miss you, too. More reason to get the job done and come out of it though, right?" he tried to offer him a more reassuring grin. Keith's eyes drooped down sadly, and he sighed, leaning down and kissing his temple. "I know, this really stinks," he winced. "There's nothing I'd rather do than just spend a whole week with you, but we have a job to do."
"I know," he mumbled, sinking.
Shiro moved to kneel beside the bed, coming eye-to-eye with him. "One day, this'll be done," he promised. "And you and I can do whatever we want, no distractions."
"If we come out of this," he rolled his eyes.
"Hey," Shiro's voice took on a firmer tone, eyebrows furrowing. "We're both going to get through this. All of us will get through this. Don't let being upset over this wreck your confidence, Keith."
He sighed, moving and sitting up on the sides of his legs, the blanket coiling atop his thighs. "I did lose you, though," he reminded him somberly. "And ever since then, I haven't had any time with you. It's like the universe is telling us to just deal with not having each other around. Obviously, you dying and us just not getting to fuck are on astronomically different levels but it's like… the same baseline," he shrugged, looking down at the bed and tucking tangled hair behind his ear.
Shiro's eyes glazed, moving to sit next to him on the bed and wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Listen," he said quietly. "I know that this just isn't easy on either of us, but especially you. I at least knew where you were when all that was going down. I never really stopped to think about how hard that was on you."
Keith rolled his eyes, "I'm sure it was a lot harder on you, Shiro."
"Well, in some respects, yes," he winced. "But… I don't think I would've handled your position well either were the tables turned."
Keith took a deep breath, his fingers moving to twist on one another anxiously. "Every time we're not together, I think you're in trouble again," he muttered, unable to look at him. "This whole… interrupting thing is really fucking annoying," he spat, glaring at the door before looking back at his hands, "but… everyone keeps taking you places away from me."
Shiro bit his lip, hand reaching over and guiding Keith's head up, blue eyes still staying planted downwards. "Keith, come on, look at me," he pleaded, finally getting embarrassed eyes back on him and giving him a sympathetic smile. "I know. And I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "But you can't be with me nonstop every day, no matter how much we'd both enjoy it. Temporarily at least," he shrugged. "We're not exempt from getting on each other's nerves sometimes." Keith gave him a breath of a smile and he relaxed. "We're gonna get through it," he swore. "We'll keep each other updated, and we'll do what we always do."
"Protect each other to the point everyone hates us for it?" Keith guessed dryly.
He nodded with a chuckle, "Yeah. Pretty much." He stole a sweet kiss from sad lips and placed their foreheads together. "Just awhile longer. I promise, I'll be fine, and we'll celebrate getting the Galra out of here together, okay?"
Keith's breath shuddered, giving him a brisk nod. "Okay," he whispered.
There were few times in Shiro's life when he'd been utterly entrenched in fear.
Being captured on Kerberos. Dying in the battle against Zarkon. Watching his fellow paladins in risky situations that he couldn't help with as he remained trapped in the astral plane.
But never before had the fear been so palpable as watching Keith and the others falling so lifelessly from the sky from the safety of the Atlas.
Allura, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance had all checked in within moments of impact, although weakly, and Shiro had sent out squadrons of rescue teams to retrieve them as he grabbed himself a fighter jet from Atlas' hull and rushed to the site of the silent Keith and Black. He'd barely been able to open the door within the agape mouth of Black, speeding inside to find Keith unconscious and bleeding on the floor of the cockpit.
Sam had told him his calls for help were nearly unintelligible, hearing nothing but pure panic and pleas for Keith to wake up. Shiro didn't suppose that that was surprising, finding himself disoriented as Keith's limp body was taken away from him by medics and rushed off, leaving him standing alone in Black beside a puddle of blood with the crushing, silent weight of possibilities on his shoulders.
From leaving the battlefield until days later, he was lost in a constant blur of dissociation. Words didn't seem to have meaning and nothing seemed as important as the man still in the hospital that didn't seem to be able to wake up. A speech Shiro was elected to head to the world had to be practiced time and again with the other paladins as they tried to coach him through actual inflection instead of the monotonous, exhausted disaster that he'd become. He'd made it through said speech, though not without a constant, anxious shaking of his leg from behind his podium.
But, he'd learned just as the words wrapped up and the hands were shaken, Keith had woken up.
Without hesitation he'd rushed to the hospital, finding a meekly smiling Keith waiting for him and reveling in the taste of his lips and the conscious, familiar movement of his fingers through his hair. A croaking voice still beamed with the strength he knew so well, and a following visit from the other paladins showed his sarcasm was coming back to him just as fluidly as his determination to make it out of the hospital and back onto his feet.
A flood of relief seemed to be an understatement, it felt like something Noah himself wouldn't have been able to weather as the days passed and sharpness came back to Keith's eyes and he regained his agile mobility. Shiro had spent more time at his bedside than Keith's own mother, who just watched them with a knowing smile and a tired happiness at the recovery of her son.
It'd taken a week and a half, but Keith had finally been cleared to leave with only a slight limp in his way that the doctors assured him would be gone within the next week and a sutured scar along the side of his head easily covered by his hair.
Shiro and the paladins had finally had their official reconvening when he and Keith walked together back into the Garrison, quips and food flying at one another and a relieved laughter that they could all finally let out together. Shiro's hand, however, never left Keith's, and Keith certainly didn't mind, giving him a reassuring squeeze every few minutes.
But as the day drew towards its end and the group had decided to turn in for the night, Keith and Shiro gave one another a brisk kiss and unwound their fingers, moving to go down their separate halls to their rooms.
The other paladins looked at one another, a brief, silent consensus passing between them.
Lance cleared his throat, "Kosmo, c'mere boy!" he said, bending down and patting his knees exaggeratedly. Kosmo's ears perked, stopping his walk behind Keith and teleporting himself over to the waiting Lance's feet, tail wagging at head scratches to be had. Keith watched, brow raising.
"Uh, we're going to bed."
Lance shook his head, "Nope, Kosmo's stayin' with me tonight," he declared, looking back at the wolf watching him expectantly. "Aren't ya? Aren't ya, Buddy?" he asked in a high voice.
Keith frowned, "Hey, he's my-"
"You two need some time alone," Pidge finally said, pointing between him and Shiro, their faces shifting into red. "You've had a really shit couple of days, least we can do is give you guys a night where no one bugs you."
"That is… so unnecessary of you," Shiro shook his head. "Appreciated, but-"
"It is necessary," Allura scoffed. "Keith, stop looking like that. We've all had our time to ourselves while Keith was still in the hospital. It's only fair you get some, too."
"Yeaaahhhh," Lance smirked, nodding and wiggling his brows. "You two go n' get some."
Keith held up his hands to stop from charging forward at him, closing his eyes with a twitching, embarrassed scowl. "Lance, fucking watch it."
He shook his head. "I already watched you blowing him, I don't need the full show," he parried off with ease, gently grabbing Kosmo by the scruff and urging him forward. "Come on, guys," he sang, leading the paladins down the hall towards their own rooms.
"I'll bring you two breakfast, make sure you have pants on!" Hunk teased, he and the others waving back at them cheekily.
"AGAIN. UNNECESSARY!" Shiro nearly squeaked, getting a resounding laugh from the four of them as they pressed on down the way, leaving him and Keith standing alone in the lounge and staring at one another. "I… don't know what to do from here," he admitted.
Keith nodded, crossing his arms and shifting uncomfortably. "Feel like if we do do something, then Lance wins."
Shiro snorted, "Well… nothing wrong with him having an… occasional victory… right?" he gave him a suggestive smile.
Keith stared at him for a moment before his own lips quirked up at the corners, slowly moving to walk up beside him and bumping his shoulder against his arm. "I mean, it pains me to let him have that… But if I'm distracted enough…" he hinted, swaying and knocking against him again.
He laughed with a short nod, grasping his chin and leading him into a long, soft kiss. "I think I can manage that," he purred, hand dropping and intertwining between Keith's fingers. They made their way down the hall, shooting flirtatious suggestions and cheesy witticisms that had the other rolling their eyes and flicking the other's nose.
But as they crossed the threshold into Shiro's room, the talking stopped all at once as lips voraciously took one another and they clumsily made their way to the bed, collapsing on top of it and wrapping themselves up in each other at long last. Doting care and grateful, lingering touches dominated their agenda, completely lost in the essence of one another and the relief of having each other there in the flesh. The two of them found themselves melded into an undefinable shape of hot skin and moistened, trailing tongues without a care, without the bitter memories of fears since passed. No kiss felt too extensive, no thrust or moan seemed too prolonged as the hours waned and they found themselves on a slow, steady wave in no hurry to crest the shore.
After all, they had all the time in the world.