"You're not taking the floor."

"We are not sharing the bed, Keith," Shiro said, his voice firm.

"Look," Keith said. "I don't like it any more than you do—" a lie, a complete and utter lie, "—but we agreed to see this through, and unless you want to wreck our chances at an alliance, we don't have a choice. Vas-whatever—"

"Visran."

"—Yeah, him. Earlier, he didn't wait to come into the room after knocking. If he comes in and sees you'd rather sleep on the floor than with me, it's over."

Shiro pursed his lips, knowing Keith was right. He still didn't look happy about it.

"It's not like we've never done this before," Keith said. After finding Shiro in the Galra fighter, amidst a slew of nightmares and after a week of isolation, Shiro hadn't wanted to be left alone. "You were the one who asked me to stay."

Shiro's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't thinking clearly back then. I could hurt you, Keith."

"You didn't hurt me before."

Shiro scoffed. "Because I could barely move."

Keith shook his head. "I've faced things a lot more dangerous than my best friend sleeping beside me." Physically, anyway. "I'm not afraid."

"Well I am!" Shiro snapped. "I'm fucking terrified at night. I wake up, and I don't know where I am. I lash out. I burn holes in bed sheets. I break things." He looked away, shoulders hunching. "Keith, I could never live with myself if I—if I…"

"Shiro," Keith interrupted, gently. "Come here." He wrapped his arms around Shiro, holding him close.

"We put our lives on the line every day," Keith said, keeping his voice low. "Taking risks is part of what we do. I've done way more dangerous things for the Coalition; this is nothing. And even if it were, you know how much we rely on the pods. I'd be in a lot more danger if we didn't have those, don't you think?"

Reluctantly, Shiro nodded against his shoulder.

"I'll be careful, okay?" Keith said. "If you're having a nightmare, I'll get out of the way. I won't try to wake you up. …You trust me, right?"

"You know I do."

"Then believe me when I say it's going to be fine."

With a slow exhale, Shiro slumped against him. Keith tugged him down to lie on the mattress, arms still around him. It was far too intimate; Keith didn't give a damn. He let the steady rise and fall of Shiro's chest lull him to sleep.

…

True to his word, when Keith woke in the middle of the night to erratic gasps and thrashing beside him, he rolled out of bed and stood far away, back pressed against the wall. His fingers twitched. He wanted to wake him, make it stop, but that was a bad idea.

Patience yielded focus, but this was the last thing Keith wanted to focus on. Still, he waited, watching him under the stark moonlight, listening in the dead quiet of night.

Eventually, Shiro bolted upright with a sharp inhale, eyes flying open, Galra arm at the ready. It wasn't hard to see why Shiro was so afraid of hurting him. Shiro heaved for breath, shaking like a leaf.

"Shiro?" Keith said, cautiously stepping forward after a moment. "You with me?"

"K-Keith," he gasped. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—"

"Stop that," Keith said. Carefully, he approached the bed. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"I—I told you—"

"Shut up, okay? I'm fine. Everything's alright."

Slowly, making sure Shiro saw it coming, he pulled him into a hug of sorts. He brought Shiro in close against his chest, one hand threading through his short hair, the other resting on his flesh arm. He tucked Shiro's head under his chin. Shiro was drenched in cold sweat; Keith couldn't care less.

They stayed like that until Shiro calmed down. After Shiro had gone still, in a gesture Keith should have repressed, he pressed his lips to the top of Shiro's head. "Let's go back to sleep, alright?"

Shiro nodded once. "Thank you, Keith," he whispered.

Lying back down, Keith nestled against him. Eventually, Shiro found sleep again. Keith, not so much. Shiro was a restless sleeper, and occasionally, his metal arm would hit Keith—not with too much force, thankfully, but it didn't take much to wake him.

Even though Keith barely slept at all that night, it was worth it.

…

It was a good thing they hadn't slept apart. Visran knocked at the door and entered before they could disentangle themselves.

"I trust you slept well, Paladins. Breakfast will be served in ten doboshes, after which we will depart for the first trial. Please be ready to leave."

The door clicked shut, and they sat up, extricating themselves from one another's limbs.

"Morning," Keith said, voice muzzy with the dregs of almost-sleep.

Shiro eyed him, taking in his appearance. "You look tired. Sorry for waking you."

Keith shrugged. "Nah, I got back to sleep fine," he lied.

"…So did I," Shiro said, a sliver of wonder in his voice. "Well, you were right." He gestured at the door their chaperone had entered from. "Unfortunately, it looks like we'll have to share the bed every night until this is over."

"I don't mind," Keith said. His response was too quick, too eager, and he regretted it immediately. He turned away and scampered to the bathroom, hiding the traitorous blush that had spread across his cheeks. "What d'you think the first trial's gonna be?"

"Could be that interrogation Allura mentioned," Shiro said. "…Maybe we should've discussed it ahead of time."

"What's there to discuss?" Keith asked. They didn't have time, anyway. By the time he brushed his teeth, washed his face, used the toilet, and changed out of his sleep clothes, Visran would be back. "If they ask, we can just say we've been dating for five years. We'll be fine. It'll be easy."

…

The first trial was the interrogation. It was not easy.

They were brought to a large building with twisting turrets and tall spires that screamed intimidation. Before they were split up and led in opposite directions, Shiro squeezed Keith's hand and pressed a kiss to his temple. "See you after," Shiro said.

Mind blank, Keith merely nodded.

The room Keith was brought to was unnecessarily large, with sky-high ceilings and walls that echoed. It looked a bit like a church, but it was set up like a courtroom, and he was at the witness stand. The panel of Graxari watching him was unnerving. The Graxari didn't smile, and they didn't blink as often as they should.

Keith relaxed, though, when they started the interrogation; the questions were easy. Shiro's full name, date of birth, home planet, occupation; background, relatives, childhood dreams. Interests, preferences; desires, fears; strengths, weaknesses. Keith knew Shiro well. These, he could answer.

But then the questions got harder. They moved into their relationship—and more than just how long they'd been together.

Who initiated the relationship? When and where was their first kiss? Where was their first date? Where was their most recent date? Who professed their love first? Who proposed, and how?

Keith was a poor liar in the first place, and his ability to make things up on the spot was absolutely abysmal.

The questions became more and more intimate, and by the end of it, Keith knew they were completely, utterly doomed.

…

Shiro laughed. It was a quiet, beautiful thing. The sound was restrained so the Graxari on the other side of the room couldn't hear, but his eyes sparkled with unadulterated amusement. "Don't tell me you actually said my favourite position was 'head of Voltron'."

Keith stepped forward, a challenge. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Shiro smiled. He pressed a kiss to the base of Keith's neck, making his breath catch. Shiro murmured, "You're not wrong."

Keith flushed. "…But yeah. You were right. We probably should've prepared ahead of time."

"Mhmm."

Really, though, Keith couldn't actually have discussed his turn-ons with Shiro—broad shoulders, strong jaw, grey eyes, long eyelashes, taking command, bad sense of humour…

The even clack of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Shiro took Keith's hand, linking their fingers together as Visran approached.

"Well, Paladins. Your performance in this trial was… subpar, to say the least," Visran said. "However, we will not discount the remote possibility that your poor performance was influenced by the Red Paladin's shyness and the Black Paladin's anxiety I witnessed yesterday. I am hardly convinced of the veracity of your relationship, but you may proceed to the next trial."

"We're so glad you understand," Shiro said, relief creeping into his voice around the edges. "Keith really does have a hard time opening up to strangers, and I… I do experience anxiety. Thank you for giving us another chance."

"Yeah," Keith nodded.

Shiro's arm snaked around Keith's waist. "I love Keith more than life itself. I hope you'll be able to see that." He managed to sound like he meant it. He was good.

"Hm," Visran said. "For now, we will return to the palace for lunch, and then you have the rest of the afternoon off. We will take you wherever you would like to go."

"Is there a park or something somewhere?" Keith asked. Keith preferred being outdoors whenever possible; more importantly, so did Shiro.

"Certainly," Visran nodded. "There is one not far from the palace grounds."

Shiro smiled at Keith. "Sounds perfect."

…

They found a large tree to sit under and settled down in the lush grass. Leaning against its gnarled, blue trunk, Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith's shoulders. Visran was still watching them, but for the first time since the trial, their chaperone was far enough away that he couldn't hear them.

Keith sagged against Shiro, twiddling with a long blade of tangerine grass. "That was close."

"Yeah," Shiro nodded. "Too close."

Keith absently picked the blade apart. "We're gonna have to work harder to convince him."

Shifting, Shiro plucked the grass from between Keith's fingertips and tossed it aside. He turned Keith's shoulders so he was facing him. "You know 'we' means you too, right?"

"Um, yeah?"

"I'm trying, Keith. I really am. But you…" Shiro's gaze flitted away. "I know acting isn't exactly your forte, but please. Can you just… can you try a little harder to pretend you love me?"

His grey eyes flickered with something that looked like hurt. Maybe it was worry for the alliance, or disappointment that Keith wasn't pulling his weight, but whatever it was, it sent a sharp pang through Keith's chest, and he wanted it to go away.

"I'm sorry. I'll… I'll try harder. I promise."

"Thank you." Shiro's lips pulled up into something that didn't meet his eyes.

Words weren't enough. Words had never been enough, not for them. Keith moved in closer. "Is Visran watching?"

Shiro nodded.

Keith reminded himself that this was just for show, and it was what Shiro had asked him to do. For the alliance. It didn't mean anything. Forcing himself to keep that in the back of his mind, he let himself do what he'd imagined doing a thousand times before.

Keith tilted his head up and pressed his lips to Shiro's jawline, soft, fluttering. Shiro's clean-shaven skin was smooth and warm, the bone beneath sharp and perfectly angled. The action brought a smile back to Shiro's face, so Keith did it again. He moved up his jaw and planted a kiss to the corner of Shiro's lips, feeling them turn up a fraction more.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself if he went any further, and if he did, he'd definitely give himself away. So he shifted and sank forward, resting his head against Shiro's chest.

Shiro draped his arms over Keith's shoulders, hands coming to rest against Keith's pounding ribcage. "Thanks for playing along."

"Sure," Keith said, closing his eyes. "Anything for you."

…

Keith drifted off in Shiro's arms. He spent the rest of the afternoon dozing, making up for lost sleep. He felt better by the time dinner rolled around, his head and limbs less like lead, his body enveloped in the residual warmth of Shiro's embrace.

Dinner didn't taste particularly good, but at least they knew what to expect. Thankfully, by their fourth meal here, Shiro was a lot more comfortable with the whole feeding each other thing.

Dessert was messy—a sticky, honey-like substance that required an awful lot of sucking and licking. With Visran watching, they turned it into something of a game, each daring the other to go further. The teasing began to border flirtation, but at the same time, it stayed within the fringes of their comfort zone. It almost felt natural.

By the end of the meal, Keith was starting to think they might be able to pull this off after all.

And then Visran brought them to the public baths.

Keith blanched as he took in the soft, low lighting; the heady, floral fragrance wafting through the air; the small, intimate pools, and the people occupying them. "You have got to be kidding me."

Shiro let out a quiet laugh. "Oh boy."

Apparently, just as the Graxari needed their partners to feed them, the same thing applied to bathing. The couples in the bath were washing one another in a stupidly sensual manner, as closely and as slowly as possible.

"Are these people incapable of doing anything by themselves?" Keith muttered. "This isn't very efficient."

Shiro's lips quirked up. "I don't think they're going for efficient."

It wasn't as if Keith and Shiro had never seen each other naked before, but this was something else entirely. This, Keith didn't trust himself to do. But they didn't have a choice.

There was nothing to do but bite the bullet. Keith claimed the bench by the nearest pool, and promptly stripped off his clothes. "You can go first," he said. Not that the order mattered; he was done for either way.

Shiro shrugged. "Fine." He took off his clothes, too. All of them. Keith turned and waded into the steaming bath, keeping his gaze focused on the water's surface. The water was warm, bordering on hot. It was the perfect temperature. He wished it weren't; he wished this could be a miserable experience, one he wouldn't replay in his head over and over when all this was done.

Ripples behind him told Keith when Shiro had joined him in the bath. Even still, Keith started when Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder to hand him the bin full of soaps and shampoos Visran had supplied.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," Shiro said.

Keith didn't respond. He had seen Shiro without clothes before, but somehow, he got more beautiful every time. He was an Adonis, carved of marble; every muscle was impossibly sculpted. The scars that interrupted smooth skin were objectively ugly, but his body was perfect all the same. "I-it's fine," he eventually stuttered.

"This gonna be okay?" Shiro asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Keith said, weakly. "It's just a bath."

"Yep. Just two friends, with no clothes on, bathing one another," Shiro said, with a light laugh. "I know it's a little weird, but remember, it's just me."

Please. That was exactly what Keith was trying to forget.

Shiro sat down on the shallow ledge, crossing his legs. He tilted his head, gesturing for Keith to join him.

Keith sat behind him, carefully making sure his knees didn't bump against Shiro's back. He peered into the bin and frowned. None of the soaps were in bar form; there was nothing to apply the soap to Shiro's body with. Nothing but his hands.

He pumped one of the soaps into his palm and worked it into a lather. It was oddly viscous. Curious, he brought his hands below the water's surface. The soap stayed where it was, coating the front of his hands. He rubbed his hands together, back and forth. It required a considerable amount of rubbing until the soap dissolved into the water. ...Great.

Keith armed himself with more soap and brought his hands to Shiro's upper back. Shiro went rigid under his touch. It wasn't just a startle response; his powerful muscles remained taut beneath Keith's hands. His breaths were too slow, too even.

Keith pulled away. "Shiro, you okay? Is something wrong?"

"Sorry," Shiro said, his voice strained. He let out a metered exhale. "I'm just not used to my skin being touched. Or… maybe too used to it," he added, quietly.

Keith bit back his indignation. He had to stay calm. "Like I said last night, we don't have to—"

"Yes, we do," Shiro said. "We're out of chances."

"Yeah, but—"

"That doesn't matter. I want to go through with this. I… I don't want to be afraid of being touched. I want it to feel good again," Shiro said, quietly. "Please."

So Keith swung around and started instead where Shiro could see him. He worked the soap over every inch of skin with gentle but firm hands, applying just enough pressure to soothe. He was careful with his scars, careful with the part of the arm that met his prosthesis, keeping an eye on Shiro's expression to make sure he wasn't hurting him. When he moved to his back, he kept going even after the soap had dissolved, massaging the knots from Shiro's shoulders, his back, the base of his neck.

Little by little, Shiro relaxed. By the end of it, his eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on his face. Keith congratulated himself on a job well done.

"Thank you," Shiro said, pressing a kiss to Keith's hair as they shuffled positions.

Shiro slid in behind Keith, his knees resting comfortably against Keith's back. Shiro pressed his soaped up hands to Keith's skin and began.

It was as good—and as bad—as Keith had imagined. Strong hands roamed over each part of his body, lathering him with suds; one hand was rough and calloused, the other smooth with no give. Arms, shoulders, back, chest, abdomen. Feet, calves, …upward.

Keith stopped breathing.

"Okay?" Shiro asked, quietly.

"Yes," Keith said, his voice squeaking. Dammit.

Thinking about dead kittens and gross medical stuff and that time Coran accidentally put on the wrong video didn't work. There was no hiding his reaction, but at least Shiro didn't say anything.

Shiro did say something when he moved on to shampooing Keith's hair, and Keith was unable to suppress a moan. "Like that?" he hummed, working his fingers into Keith's scalp.

"Mmm," Keith sighed, eyes closed in utter bliss.

"Looks like I've found your weakness," he teased.

"Don't care," Keith said, his voice rough. "Keep going."

Shiro indulged him, washing his hair far longer than necessary. Keith whined when Shiro tipped his head back into the water to rinse the shampoo away, but returned to cloud nine when Shiro began working conditioner into his hair.

"I swear, the Galra in you is purring."

"It's happy."

Shiro tipped Keith's face back to meet his gaze. He gave him an amused smile. As if to say, "it's not the only part."

Keith blushed, though he was too enraptured to be properly embarrassed. "Hurry up."

"You actually want me to?"

"No. …Visran's still watching. You're not allowed to."

"Uh huh," Shiro said with a smirk, and kept going.

…

After Keith took a long, cold shower, they headed back to their room and got ready for bed.

This time, there were no objections from Shiro about sleeping side-by-side. He turned off the lights and slipped under the covers next to Keith without a word.

Just after Keith had closed his eyes, Shiro said, "Keith?"

Keith rolled over to face him. He could trace every angle of his face in the silvery moonlight. "Yeah?"

"I know you didn't really want to be here with me, and the main reason you were stuck with me on this mission was the trial, which we bombed… but I'm glad you're here."

Keith's words stuck in his throat. "I—I never said I didn't want to be here."

"You think I couldn't tell?"

Keith winced. It was true, he didn't—but only because he did so badly. "I'm just… not a very good actor. Don't you think one of the others would've been better?"

"No, I don't," Shiro said. "But even if I did, I wouldn't have wanted it to be anyone else. …Despite what the results of the trial might've said this morning, you know me. You know what I need. You know how to make me feel better, and you never stop trying. So, yeah, I'm glad you're here. I don't care how bad of an actor you are. I still love you. You're my closest friend."

Keith's eyes went wide. "You… love me?"

Shiro's smile was soft. "Of course I do."

A starburst filled Keith's core, warmth flooding him; happy tears prickled behind his eyelids. He didn't care that it was a reminder that their friendship was platonic. It was the first time anyone had ever said those words to him; they were words he'd gone a lifetime without.

He had to protect this friendship, at all costs.

He couldn't lose this. He couldn't. He couldn't.