10:34AM on November first is the day that Keith marked as the day that tragedy struck his apartment, in the form of stubble.
Painfully swallowing the bite of cereal in his mouth, pushing it past the knot of lust that was threatening to choke him, Keith tried to make himself look away from Shiro's chin. Although the hairs were dark in color, they had already gained length beyond any five o'clock shadow Keith had ever seen Shiro sport (during their entire year and a half of friendship) and were surprising strong in number. Keith always thought Shiro was a meticulous shaver due to the potentially patchy nature of Shiro's facial hair and part of him was rebuffed by his incorrect assumption.
Another part of him (a much larger, much louder, much hornier part) was screaming for Keith to reach out and touch the small hairs, begging Keith to imagine Shiro with an even fuller beard.
"We're almost out of milk," Shiro casually mentioned, unaware of Keith's emotional meltdown at their shared table. "I'll get some on the way home today." Taking the jug from the fridge, Shiro tossed the plastic cap in the trashcan and tilted his head back to drain the remaining liquid from the gallon.
Helpless in his desire, Keith watched Shiro's Adam's apple bob in his throat, highlighted by the light catching on the soft black hairs poking out from Shiro's skin. Clamping his teeth together to shove back the desperate whine climbing out of his chest, Keith forced himself to stare at his now soggy bowl of corn flakes. "Um, what's with the…" Unable to say the words, Keith motioned to his own face and then waggled a finger in the direction of Shiro's jawline.
"Ah, some of the football guys I'm working with told me they don't shave for the month of November and raise money for charity while they grow beards." Leaning over the sink to wash out of the milk jug, Shiro shrugged a shoulder. "Someone made a comment about how I probably couldn't grow a beard and I guess my competitive side got the best of me. I'll send you the link if you want to donate."
Keith's thoughts skidded to a screeching halt in his mind. "A month?" He could hear the choked sounds of his question and winced.
"Yup!" Shiro declared, tearing open a banana and biting off half of it. Keith wondered if he could pay death to take him as Shiro came around the counter to bend into Keith's space. "A whole month of fuzzy face." Laughing, Shiro rubbed his chin against Keith's cheek, planting a loud kiss to the reddened skin. When Keith shoved him away with a hand planted firmly over Shiro's face, Shiro continued to laugh, flicking Keith's ear as he wandered back into his own room.
No shaving for a month. Shiro was already ridiculously hot, but with only one day of stubble, he had practically caused Keith to have an aneurysm. And Shiro wasn't going to shave for a month.
Keith was absolutely positive that he was going to die.
One week into Shiro's hiatus from shaving and Keith was feeling pretty proud of himself. He had managed to train his eyes away from Shiro's growing facial hair, telling himself that it was just another part of Shiro. And just because Shiro was quickly becoming the epitome of every rugged man fantasy Keith had ever had, he should not be considered any more or any less attractive. Through the power of denial, Keith had made it through movie night and cleaning day, and had even enjoyed their weekly dinner at the closest diner to campus. Keith was extremely proud of his adaptability.
Until his name was called from the depths of Shiro's bathroom and Keith realized he was not very adaptable. At all.
Standing shirtless in the bathroom, Shiro wiggled a bottle in Keith's direction as Keith appeared in the doorway. "I need your help." Unconsciously, Shiro stroked his prosthetic fingers over his chin, a habit he had developed in the last couple of days that was easily taking years off of Keith's life. "Another intern told me about this beard oil, but I read the ingredients and I can't pour it on my robo-hand." Keith couldn't help his snort at Shiro's running joke. "It's best applied with two hands so it's even. Can you do it for me?"
And this, Keith thought, is how I die.
Walking across the small bathroom, Keith plunked himself down on the counter and held out his open palm, concentrating on willing his fingers not to tremble. The bottle was heavier than he expected and Keith flipped it around to read the directions instead of paying attention to the way Shiro's hands were settling on his thighs while Shiro stood nestled between Keith's legs. Screwing open the lid, Keith dumped oil into his palm and slowly warmed it between both of his hands, stalling for time to allow himself to get his heart rate under control.
A deep hum vibrated through Shiro's chest as Keith began to stroke his face, using the pads of his fingers to massage the oil into the skin under Shiro's beard. The hairs were an unfair mix of soft and slightly coarse, making Keith's hands tingle as he worked carefully against Shiro's jaw. Another hum of satisfaction brought the fluttering closure of Shiro's eyelids and Keith felt his stomach flip. Beneath his sweatpants, he felt the unforgiveable twitch of his dick, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood in hopes of killing his growing arousal. When Shiro gripped his thighs harder while leaning into the touch of Keith's hands, Keith knew he had to get out.
"Alright, all done old timer." Pressing a hand to Shiro's chest, Keith jumped off the counter turning quickly toward the bathroom door. He didn't linger to hear Shiro's response, the musk of Shiro's new beard oil tainting Keith's hands and flooding his brain with unnecessary thoughts.
The instructions on the bottle said application needed to occur once daily. Checking the date on his calendar, Keith groaned as he mentally calculated the days left in November.
Twenty-three applications left to go. Twenty-three more chances for inappropriate boners.
Keith gave himself five days at best before he needed to throw himself out of a window to escape the torture of rubbing his best friend's face.
It turned out that five days was an overly optimistic estimate. Walking into their shared apartment after surviving four hours of classes, Keith wanted nothing more than a cold beer, hot pizza, and the comfort of a night spread over his couch. His head was spinning from the detail-heavy lectures and discussions that he had endured and he really wanted to shut his brain down for the night.
Luckily, Shiro was evidently prepared to help him achieve this goal.
Twisting to look over the back of the couch, Shiro grinned at Keith from behind his glasses. Internally, Keith whimpered over the combination of the glasses and Shiro's ever-growing beard, his libido purring like a sex-deprived lion. "You… uh… glasses?" Keith asked, clearly at the height of his intelligence when faced with such a stunning man as his own best friend.
"Ugh, don't make fun, I tore one of my contacts and had to call my grandfather to mail me another set." Pouting a little, Shiro turned more squarely to face Keith. "I ordered pizza already and beer is in the fridge. Get comfy so we can veg out, you sound exhausted."
"Exhausted… yup… that's what I am." Keith mumbled, throwing his bag on the ground. "I'm going to… yeah… shower…" Waving nondescriptly toward his room, Keith fled to the sanctuary of the hot water, banging his head repeatedly on the blue ceramic tiles of his shower walls. If he hit his head hard enough, he hoped he could damage that part of his brain that kept picturing Shiro wearing his glasses while on his knees between Keith's legs. With a groan, Keith flipped the shower to its coldest setting and stayed there until his raging hormones were silenced by frozen numbness.
He drank the better part of the six pack Shiro had bought for them to split before the pizza had even arrived, trying to drown his brain in a steady onslaught of alcohol. When they fell asleep, Keith sprawled over Shiro's chest in a tangle of limbs on the couch as they did every Friday night, Keith's left hand betrayed him and found its home around the curve of Shiro's jaw. His thumb gently stroked the hairs underneath it and right before he lost consciousness entirely, he could have sworn he heard Shiro sigh.
Fighting the losing battle of his own exhaustion, Keith's eyes dropped closed, his hand still cradling Shiro's face as they slept.
Hunk jumped, nearly toppling off his stool as Keith banged into the chemistry lab. "Sorry," Keith muttered, dropping down on the stool closest to Hunk and banging his head onto the cool slab of the lab table.
"What brings you to my lair on this fine Saturday?" Poking Keith's head, Hunk laughed when Keith groaned.
"Which of these," not lifting his head, Keith idly waved at the test tubes lined in front of Hunk, "could you use to burn away my eyesight? Like temporarily… let's say for another twenty-one days." Tipping his head so his cheek was smashed on the surface of the table, Keith narrowed his eyes at Hunk's knowing smirk.
"I saw Shiro's beard. Looks pretty good."
"Kill me," Keith grumbled, plucking a test tube and pretending to tip it toward his mouth.
"Alright, well that one's water…" Taking the tube from Keith's fingers, Hunk sat back on his stool and crossed his arms over his chest. "You could just… I don't know… tell him how you feel." The exasperation in Hunk's voice was nothing new and Keith rolled his eyes in response.
"Yeah, let me just be like Hey, Shiro, we're best friends right? And roommates? But here's the thing, I kind of want to fuck you senseless, because BEARD but also I'm in love with you. Good talk, bye. Then I can high five him." Keith resisted the urge to kick Hunk's stool out from underneath him when Hunk started to shake from his own laughter.
"Maybe not in those words, but you're getting the idea." Planting his hands flat on the desk, Hunk studied Keith's face for a moment. "Indulge me for a minute." He only paused in his thought to roll his eyes at Keith's stubbornly grunted "no." "You met Shiro at orientation over a year ago, yeah?" Hunk waited for Keith to complete his sarcastically slow nod. "In that time, neither of you have dated anyone and you moved in with him halfway through our freshman year. Who does that?!" Throwing his hands in the air, Hunk expressed his frustration over Keith's abandonment of their room without having to say the words.
"You got your own room! And I had to get away! Our stupid RA hated me!" Keith distinctly remembered the way Sendak had snarled at him from the first second they had collided in the hallway.
"Hated you… wanted to bang you… it was one of those," Hunk argued. Taking a deep breath, Hunk waved a dismissive hand. "Not the point. Tell me, what are your plans tonight, Keith?"
"Uh… Monsters and Mana like every Saturday night." Not knowing where Hunk was going with this, Keith shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"And last night, let me guess, you, Shiro, takeout, a movie, and falling asleep on the couch… cuddling." Hunk raised an eyebrow at Keith when he hesitated to confirm. "And tomorrow, you'll… go to the gym together and then clean your apartment and then meal prep for your week… together."
"Holy shit!" Sitting up, Keith caught the edge of the desk so he wouldn't fall backwards. "Am I dating Shiro?"
"No, you're both way too oblivious and stupid to have actually made it to that level… but the fact that you asked that question, as if you two could be dating and you didn't realize it, that proves what a giant idiot you are." Hunk didn't even flinch when Keith punched his arm. "Don't worry, you're in love with an idiot too. A match made in stupidity." When Keith tried to punch him again, Hunk caught his fist and jokingly kissed Keith's knuckles.
Yanking his hand free, Keith frowned. "Are you saying Shiro… likes me? Like more than a roommate?"
"You make me want to befriend a monkey. Because a monkey would be less oblivious than you." Sighing, Hunk rubbed a hand down his face. "Yes, Shiro likes you… now what are you doing to do about it?"
Stunned, Keith stared at Hunk. He never thought he would get this far, and voiced this opinion out loud. It was his turn to be punched which Keith begrudgingly accepted as his punishment for being obnoxious. Still, he begged Hunk for help, willing to take any measures needed to test Hunk's theory.
Glaring at his reflection in the mirror, Keith wondered if he should have been more discerning when it came to taking Hunk's advice. The red button down shirt, tucked into fitted black dress pants looked nothing like Keith's normal attire. Hunk had called his ripped jeans and faded t-shirts grungy even though Keith had defended his style as being comfortable. Despite Hunk's confirmations that Keith was attractive in even his "hobo-wardrobe," Hunk had still insisted Keith attempt to change up his look in honor of their Friendsgiving event.
"If Shiro is making you all weak in the knees by running around looking like a hot dad, then why don't you return the favor?"
Hunk's suggestion haunted Keith's memories and he had threatened to pour acid into his ear canals to wipe away the lingering ringing of Hunk call Shiro a hot dad. Shuddering at the words for the hundredth time since Hunk had said them, Keith took one last look as his reflection and muttered "fuck it" under his breath. Turning on his heel, he marched out into the living room.
"Ready to go?" Shiro asked, pulling the container of cranberry jelly from the fridge.
As a pair they had been relegated to cranberry and alcohol duty, none of their friends trusting either of them with anything more complicated. Keith noted the box of wine bottles and the case of beer on the counter, lifting his eyes in time to see Shiro gaping at him. "What?" Keith demanded, instantly fidgeting under Shiro's gaze.
"You look… wow… you look great!" The pink danced across Shiro's cheeks, complementing the light purple of his own dress shirt.
Unsure of what to do, Keith shoved his hands in his pockets. "Uh, thanks… so do you…" The heat on his face felt hotter than sticking his head in an oven and Keith looked anywhere but at Shiro. "So… um… is the car here?" A beeping from Shiro's phone made them both jump.
"Looks like it," Shiro blindly stabbed at his phone on the counter, his eyes never leaving Keith.
As they walked out of the front door, Keith pausing to lock it behind them, Shiro's hand lingered at the small of Keith's back and stayed there until they were both nestled in the back of their Uber.
A fully belly and a brain damp with alcohol left Keith feeling less inhibited than he had been all semester. Dinner had been a wonderful mix of great food, good friends, and lots of joint complaining about their impending doom of finals. Throughout every minute of it though, Keith had been next to Shiro, their arms and knees touching every time they shifted.
"Shiro, beard's looking pretty great," Lance commented from across the table, "don't you agree, Keith?" He winced as a distinct thud sounded and Lance turned to glare briefly at Hunk. "I think my beard is pretty sazzy, too."
"Who even says sazzy?" Pidge piped up. Nudging Allura with her elbow, Pidge nodded in Lance's direction. "Your boyfriend is a nerd."
"I'M the quarterback of our DIVISION ONE team, thank you very much, and decidedly not a nerd." Stuffing another bite of cherry pie into his mouth, Lance softened when Allura pecked him on the cheek.
Shoving his empty pie plate away, Keith felt his grip on the conversation slipping. He felt relaxed and peaceful after a day of Hunk's food and the always rambunctious company of their closest friends. Catching Shiro's eye, Keith smiled, shifting to press their thighs more firmly together. Resting his chin on his hand, Keith reached up to trail his fingertips over Shiro's beard. "Soft," he murmured, ignoring any of the looks being tossed around the table by their friend group.
Leaning into Keith's caresses, Shiro sighed. "I love when you touch it like that." Perhaps Shiro had also consumed his fair share of wine, but Keith wasn't worried about that as he continued to trace the perfectly trimmed line of Shiro's beard.
"You know… if you keep getting hotter, I'm going to have to fuck you." It had been a thought in his head, which Keith didn't register voicing out loud. His friends' laughter made him wonder if they could read minds, but he was quickly distracted from his ponderings by the heat of Shiro's eyes staring directly at him. Daring to brush his thumb across Shiro's lips, Keith felt his breath catch when Shiro's tongue darted out to tease the pad of it. Inching closer, Keith saw Shiro's gaze roam over his face, settling undeniably on Keith's lips.
"I like this..." Tugging on the front of Keith's shirt, Shiro leaned closer into Keith's space. Around them, the excitedly uncomfortable grumblings of their friends were nothing more than white noise.
Following Shiro's lead, Keith leaned forward. "I like-"
The sound of Shiro's phone alert broke their shared trance, and a relieved sigh echoed over the table. "I mean, I want them to just bang already, but not in front of my pie." Lance stated, doubling over when Allura elbowed him in the side.
Flushing bright red, Shiro held up his phone and nearly knocked Keith in the face with it. "Car's here," he stated as if Keith couldn't see the flashing notification on the screen of Shiro's phone where it hung an inch in front of his face.
"You guys already did the dinner dishes, we'll handle the rest, get out of here, lovebi-" Hunk's last word was cut off when Pidge slapped a hand over his mouth.
Standing from the table, Keith waited until Shiro had also risen before accepting quick hugs from all of his friends. "Do it," Hunk whispered in his ear, making Keith growl. Taking the hand Shiro offered him, Keith waved one final goodbye and let himself be pulled into the chilly night air.
The cab ride had been oddly quiet, Shiro and Keith exchanging sneaky glances with each other over the seven blocks to their apartment building. In the elevator they had stood uncharacteristically close, sides pressed together and feet tapping random rhythms against one another. At the front door of the apartment, Keith unsteadily unlocked the door, the feeling of something heavy hanging between him and Shiro as he finally pushed it open.
Two steps into their apartment and Keith felt himself yanked backwards by a finger hooked in his back pocket.
Off-balance, Keith crashed into Shiro's chest, knocking him back against the door. For a moment, they were frozen, Shiro's hands on Keith's hips and Keith's hands pressed between them flat on Shiro's chest.
Then they were moving, lips finding each other in desperate need and opening with shared moans as they gripped tightly to each other's bodies. Backing toward Shiro's bedroom, they knocked into the back of the couch and the end table, neither of them acknowledging their clumsiness as they attempted to tear the clothes from each other's bodies.
"We should… talk about… this…" Shiro tried to say, moaning as Keith dipped down to nip at his throat.
Relieving Shiro of his shirt, Keith ran his hands up Shiro's beautifully strong back. "We should… after…"
"After," Shiro agreed, yanking Keith's shirt over his head and shoving Keith back on the bed. Greedily, Shiro reached for Keith's belt, pulling it free and dragging down Keith's pants before Keith's mind could catch up and return the favor of removing Shiro's pants.
"Fuck, you're so hot." Leaning up to capture Shiro's lips again, Keith let himself be guided to the middle of the bed. "That damn beard, I swear."
Making sure to scrape his facial hair over Keith's nipple, Shiro became impossibly hard against Keith's hip when Keith gasped. "Like it, do you?" Shiro whispered, continuing his path down Keith's body. "How about here?" Dragging kisses along Keith's inner thighs, Shiro smirked at him when Keith began to whine.
There was definitely going to be a beard burn left behind, but Keith couldn't find an ounce of care inside of his mind. "Shiro… I… god I want…" The second whine was low and born from Keith's soul when Shiro took him in his mouth and swallowed him all the way down.
Every single time Keith had imagined Shiro (glasses slipping on his nose, beard decorating his face and in between Keith's legs) paled when faced with the vision of Shiro actually there. They had never strictly discussed anything of a sexual nature so Keith hadn't been sure that Shiro even liked sucking dick, but the way he was swallowing Keith to the hilt made the need to ask that question evaporate.
"Hooolllyy…. Hellll…" Keith groaned, fingers finding their way into Shiro's hair and scraping against Shiro's scalp. His spine curved away from the bed, his toes curling into the mattress as Shiro took him all the way down and hummed. The numbness built in his fingers and toes and his head began to spin, the edge of his orgasm dancing temptingly in his belly.
Letting Keith slowly slip from his mouth, Shiro buried his face into the muscle of Keith's thigh to suck a bruising kiss into Keith's skin. "Do you want to… like this?" he asked, voice rough and breath ghosting over Keith's throbbing erection.
What Keith wanted was to drag Shiro up by his hair and flip him onto his back and fuck the daylights out of him. Knowing that such an intimate act should take place after a proper conversation, Keith nodded instead, a whimper escaping him as Shiro reclaimed him in one long, torturously slow slide.
Keith felt overwhelmed. This was Shiro. After over a year of wanting Shiro so badly in was like a physical ache in Keith's chest, they were finally tangled in a way Keith had always imagined. The emotions swelled inside of him, racing to fill his heart as his orgasm filled Shiro's throat. For a moment, Keith could only gasp at the ceiling, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, silent tears making treks down his face.
Feeling Shiro shift, Keith quickly shook his head, wiping at his face before lunging forward to kiss Shiro hard. With a strength built from their shared time at the gym, Keith easily flipped Shiro onto his back, shimming down his body to return the favor.
Heaven, Keith thought, dragging his tongue over Shiro's length and listening intently to Shiro's gasp. He took his time mapping the sensitive skin of Shiro's thighs, his fingers teasing all of Shiro's most intimate areas while he memorized the sounds Shiro was making. Neither of them had ever brought anyone else to the apartment and Keith had no idea what to expect from Shiro at this point. He considered himself blessed when Shiro moaned loudly, muttering Keith's name like a one-word prayer on the altar of the orgasm gods.
Keith got to enjoy the taste of Shiro for less than a minute before Shiro's muscles were tensing and he spilled down Keith's throat with an elongated sigh of Keith's name. With a quirked eyebrow, Keith rested his cheek against Shiro's thigh and peered up at Shiro's flushed body.
"Not a word," Shiro commanded from behind his hands, both of which were clamped over this face. "I have thought about you doing that… forever… I couldn't hold out to save my life."
Crawling up Shiro's body, Keith braced himself over Shiro with his arms bracketing Shiro's head. "Forever, huh?" There was a tickle of pure elation sizzling through Keith's body.
"Yes," Shiro admitted, looking adorable as he peeked out from beneath his fingers. "I've wanted you from the moment that you stopped that football from smacking Lance in the head at orientation." Letting Keith pull his hands away from his face, Shiro blushed and turned away. "I know that's lame."
Dropping one of Shiro's hands to cup his cheek, Keith urged Shiro to look at him. "Remember that paper I wrote for that ill-advised English lit class last year? The one in which I argued that Romeo and Juliet were totally valid by falling in love so fast?"
"Oh my god, your professor hated that paper. I will never forget all that red…" Shiro chuckled as Keith leaned closer.
"You made me believe in love at first sight. Not lust… love." Pausing to watch realization sink into Shiro's mind, Keith smiled softly. "And you almost caused me to fail that class."
Bursting out in laughter, Shiro threw his arms around Keith's shoulders and tugged him closer. Laying with his cheek pressed over Shiro's heart, Keith smiled at the familiar rhythm.
Fingers trailed down Keith's back making him feel sleepy and relaxed. "I have a confession," Shiro whispered, looking sheepish when Keith sat up to look at him again. "I have to donate one hundred dollars to Lance's charity page." Confused, Keith merely raised an eyebrow at Shiro. Sighing, Shiro ran his fingers through Keith's bangs. "I did the… no shaving thing… because Lance bet me that it would be a way to… well he said a way to get you to jump me… I… that wasn't…" Shrugging, Shiro seemed incapable of continuing his thought.
"Hunk made me buy that red shirt," Keith blurted. It was self-sacrificial to admit to his own attempts to get Shiro to want him, but he wanted to make Shiro feel less embarrassed. "And those pants. He told me to after I went to him to whine about how hot you are with your beard. I mean, you're always hot… the beard just…" Finding himself with the inability to put into words the exact level of Shiro's hotness, Keith just shrugged.
"So… in summary… we are… both stupid?" Tilting his head, Shiro continued to stroke Keith's hair, smiling with his own summarization.
Grinning, Keith leaned down to steal a kiss from Shiro's waiting lips. "Match made in stupidity according to Hunk." His heart skittered happily in his chest when Shiro laughed again.
Tangling his fingers more securely in Keith's hair, Shiro pulled Keith into a deep kiss, cementing their newfound status as couple without needing any more words to do so. "We'll put that on our wedding invitations someday," Shiro teased between kisses.
Three years later, they did just that.