Work Text:
“I love you.”
Shiro’s thought process came to a halt - eyes widening, blood throbbing. His mind was a mess. His body ached, his voice faltered. He was someone, he was created to be someone, and now he wasn’t anymore. Just give up. Haggar’s voice still echoed in his thoughts, claws nagging at his scalp at the back of his head. His whole arm ached - hot, blinding, and malicious. You don’t have to fight anymore. Did he? Did Keith?
I love you.
Keith screamed as Shiro had never heard him scream. It was a shock, it was painful, the kind of pain Shiro was sure he’d share and bear with Keith, if only he could. He was trying to kill Keith, and yet something felt wrong. Something was wrong. He was wrong, and wrong , and he needed to- just give up just give up just give up. Burned flesh. Don’t fight anymore. Who were those words for? I love you too.
The blade crumbled against Keith’s knife and Shiro fell on his knees, hands clamping down the panels next to Keith’s face. Breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples, Shiro screamed. His arm was throbbing more than ever, now. Haggar’s grasp was weaker by the second, and yet her voice lingered, her claws had dug deeper than Shiro thought, and they hurt like hell. She was travelling far away, she was so sure she’d won, she left him an inch too much of free will.
Shiro clenched his hand on the Garla arm, shocks of purple flashing here and there as he crumpled his own body in foetal position. Keith was yelling something, following on top of him, but Shiro couldn’t understand anything. Shiro’s own voice filled his ears, searing pain rushing through him, vision blurred. Confusion rushed through him, twisted and played with his own sense of balance. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ever do it.
Shiro managed to focus his eyes. He didn’t know what he was looking at until an explosion had it falling down, just a few inches away from the edge of the metal circles they were stuck on. The whole structure was coming down on them, it was just a matter of time before they’d get dragged down together with it.
Shiro forced his whole body up, Keith right there by his side to help him stand up. How could he trust Shiro once more? How could he still be close to him? Guilt blended in at the edges of his pain - took him back to what really mattered to Keith. To the real Shiro, the one he was supposed to replace. Hadn’t Keith realised? When did Shiro find out? It felt like he’d always known.
Shiro shook his head as if that alone could dissipate any thought. There were more pressing matters. He needed to keep Keith safe, to help him out of the hell Shiro had put him through.
“We have to get out of here.” Husky voice and wet eyes, Shiro barely recognised himself. He was breathless. His vision was still filled with purple, everything was sharp and focused one second, blurry and distant another. His body still ached, fought him to put his hands around Keith’s neck and squeeze. Shiro cut out a long, frustrated breath, held it tight until his temples throbbed and his heart felt like exploding. This wasn’t him. Shiro would never hurt Keith.
Keith made a low growl, desperation and confusion crystal clear in his voice. “How?”
Shiro looked around - his body was shaking, but he was still able to force it through the day. He could still be of use. He could still save Keith. Right above them, there were still some chunks of stalactites hanging from the main structure - Shiro followed their path until he found one close enough. It was just separated by a trembling gangway - a few pods got stuck at the end of it, stopping everything else from falling down and unbalance the the gangway. Shiro pointed at it and Keith was already running towards it - Shiro only a step behind.
They jumped and jetpacked halfway through. Shiro landed on the separation-grill, Keith wasn’t so lucky. A sudden and powerful wave of panic surged inside Shiro as Keith grasped the grill, and was yanked away from it by the momentum, feet pushing against the pod’s glass and slipping. Shiro reached for Keith, urgency forcing his body to fight the adrenaline. A split second later and he wouldn’t be able to catch him and haul him on the grill. Keith panted as Shiro helped him getting a proper hold of the grill.
The platform creaked under them, weights shifting and losing equilibrium.
“Move!” Shiro shouted, helping Keith upright and pushing him ahead.
They ran, platform slanting higher and higher as they crossed it. Shiro could feel the whole grill shifting underneath them as it started its descent.
“Keith! Jump!”
In front of him, Keith jumped without direction. Shiro followed him, jetpack firing up and galra arm circling Keith’s hips. Shiro barely registered the stretch of his arm as he shot his grapple towards the giant stalactite. There was little time to think - he screamed in pain as soon as the cable tensed, putting both their weights on his only arm.
Keith caught up fast with Shiro’s idea and shoot his own grapple too, relieving some of the pressure off Shiro’s arm. “C’mon Shiro! We’re almost there!” he incited.
Shiro caught his breath, nodded, limbs throbbing. They could do it. They could get out of here alive - or Shiro would die trying to get Keith to safety. He was so tired. His body felt more and more heavy by the second. He could fall, and he wouldn’t even bother - if only he wasn’t sure, Keith would follow.
Keith pushed his feet on the uneven rock, pointed his knife and dug deep into the rock, before awakening the blade. Now Keith could use it as support, even though there was enough space for just one foot on the fuller. Keith moved fast, tied the cable around his own waist, Shiro following his movements absentmindedly before urgency came rushing back into him. He had to move.
As soon as Keith was secured, Shiro planted his galra arm in the rock and dragged himself up. He held tight onto the handhold he’d created, the time necessary for Keith to do the same with his own cable, securing Shiro to it.
They climbed after that, up until they’d met Keith’s grapple. Shiro held him tight as he detached the grapple from the stalactite and shot it up to the top, where the stalactite connected with Galra machinery and they could make out a hatch to the elevator shaft.
They kept climbing until they reached it - a few discharges had them shaking and clinging to the rock for dear life, dread crippling through them, and still lingering now. Shiro breathed through the whole climb, his feet felt like slipping every step, and yet he managed to reach and burst the hatch wide open. He let Keith in first. Keith was the priority - his mind felt like tearing apart. He was fighting everything he was born to do. And it was ripping through him like fangs.
Keith let himself fall into the hatch, followed by Shiro. They rested on the edge of the beam, could see the point where the elevator had been tore to shreds and brought down with the rest of the facility. Air rushed through the shaft, it helped Shiro cool down. It helped him breathe again.
“Ready to climb again?” Keith asked. He was breathless too.
Shiro allowed himself a few seconds, before nodding and standing up. On the back wall of the shaft, there was the emergency ladder. A jump and he almost missed one step, sliding down. Keith choked his name in a scream, before breathing again. Shiro could only let out a weak, “I’m okay,” before giving space for Keith to jump too.
The ladder was easier to climb, but extenuating nonetheless.
They reached another hatch and decided to take a break. The whole facility was long gone, and the shaking had stopped. Shiro was relatively sure they were out of danger - the main structure wouldn’t fall down, and no galra was stationed inside the station.
They collapsed in a secondary cave, probably an emergency access in case the elevator shaft needed reparation. It was mostly dark, apart from a dim purple light. They were both breathing hard, but eventually, they were able to calm down and rest. Keith was silent beside him, and Shiro didn't dare to speak again.
His head was still spinning, Haggar’s voice still nagging at his insides, twisting his guts. He had orders , he had a purpose. He was betraying everything he was born for. And yet, here he was, defining his own creator in the name of memories that weren’t truly his.
Keith was the first to sit down, back against the wall. He was removing his upper armour, leaving only the black tight one - only to open it and let his collarbone exposed. Shiro could feel his dark purple eyes on him, could still smell the burnt flesh sometimes. It was painful. It stung in the right place, where he could hold on to and remind himself why he stopped.
Guilt choked him.
“It’s gonna be alright, Shiro.” Keith’s voice was soft, understanding. Was Shiro that easy to read? Or were they that close? How could Keith still do that? After everything Shiro did to him, to the team.
Shiro closed his eyes, a pained noise escaping his throat. “I tried to kill you.” He forced himself to stand up, away and alone. He was scared of what he’d do, what he could still do. His arm- his whole arm had swallowed up his shoulder. It was still throbbing, still hurting.
Before he could move, Keith was up. Before Shiro could stop him, Keith put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. Keith was about to say something, Shiro knew, but it only took a second and Shiro’s whole body jerked back. A loud snarl escaped him as he tightened his galra hand on Keith’s neck, pushing him against the wall with his whole forearm, rage and hatred getting the best of him.
A split second, and Shiro was back. His body froze, galra hand unclenching but unmoving. He couldn’t do anything but stare at Keith with disbelief. Until Keith stared back, unafraid. Shiro swallowed hard - a clump of bile.
Keith’s lips parted, shaky and hesitant. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” Keith exhaled, teeth scraping his lips - a quick glimpse of a tongue, and then a soft breath.
Shiro felt something different this time. It wasn’t just guilt. It pulled at his abdomen, heated his own guts and sent flashes of tension down his groin. Shiro breathed hard, eyes running on Keith’s body for the first time since he’d seen him in the Castle of Lions. The spike of desire that Keith’s tight bodysuit had sent through him. And now, Shiro noted something else - down Keith’s body armor.
Shiro let out a shaky breath. Keith was hard.
Shiro’s eyes darted back up at Keith, who was now showing a different shade of red on his face - not the out-of-breath one.
“I love you too,” Shiro said before he could even think it. His whole body had a spasm - galra arm going back to normal, slowly. It only left pieces of armour, bare skin on his shoulder, and strips that fell down as the plates retracted, fused back to their normal shape.
Keith held his breath but didn’t move - his eyes watered, and Shiro felt his whole world crumble.
“I love you,” he repeated with decision, his voice low and liquid.
Keith grasped him once more and Shiro was more than happy to oblige this time, pushing Keith against the wall with his whole self. It was primal, animal. They tangled up and fit one against the other, oxygen running scarce between them. Keith’s arm were just as strong as Shiro’s, tight muscle and fire in his blood. Shiro almost felt like he was grasping at a furnace.
Keith’s lips were dry on Shiro’s, eager and trembling. Head tilted, he forced them to open up a bit more, Keith complying and moaning against his mouth. Shiro took his time to explore Keith’s mouth, licking and tracing it. He was burning inside, raw heat and deep pants.
Shiro grabbed Keith by the waist, yanked him closer to his own hips and pressed their erections together. It was painful, their body armor was already tight as it was, but this? This was torture. Keith groaned against him, legs parting to allow Shiro’s thigh to rest between them, and then pushing upwards.
“Fuck, Shiro,” Keith called, biting down on Shiro’s lips until Shiro gasped, dick twitching. “We can’t. We have to-”
Shiro punched the wall next to Keith. Metal sinking in the concrete. Something dark and twisted growing inside him. He wanted to hurt Keith. He wanted to love Keith. He wanted to take care of him, and wear him out and make Keith his and his alone.
Keith swallowed, but pushed his head against the wall, away from Shiro’s lips. So Shiro changed the focus of his attentions. He kissed Keith’s neck, sucking and licking angry marks on his skin, until Keith was breathing hard against him.
“Shiro,” Keith called once more.
Shiro gnarled, low, against Keith’s trachea. Something nagged at him, it was bitter and needy. It was shouting at him, make him yours. Keith wasn’t his. Keith was Shiro’s - the Real Shiro. The one who had disappeared out of thin air. And Shiro wanted to snatch Keith out and away from his own memory, make new ones, memories he could call his. And Keith, God, Keith was open and wanting beneath him. Keith would’ve let him, Shiro knew it. If only...
“I want you Keith,” Shiro pleaded, voice cracking. “I can’t- I need to- I need you.”
Keith sucked a breath in. His body was tense, he was slowly reaching out, hips moving to find some sort of friction and release. Shiro groaned, leaned into the motion and almost sobbed out a moan. He was hard, he didn’t even realise which pain came from what part of his body up until now. Haggar still lingered though. Haggar still hadn’t left his mind completely.
“I need these voices out of my head, Keith, please. I can’t do it without you.” Shiro pushed his whole weight against Keith - his only way of giving a voice to his own desperation, - until he felt Keith’s legs circling his hips and lock him in a tight grasp.
“Okay. Okay, Shiro, I’ve got you,” Keith whispered, voice matching Shiro’s tone. His hands ran soft and calming through Shiro’s hair, brushed it backwards. A sigh and Shiro felt his whole insides melt. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”
Shiro bit down on Keith’s neck until he Keith almost screamed, his voice cracking up in a moan, body arching into Shiro’s. Shiro drew back only to lick the signs his teeth left on Keith’s skin, hands running down his sides until Shiro could grasp his ass - fingers digging in the firm flesh.
Keith let out a low sound of complaint. “Shiro- Shiro c’mon.”
Shiro didn’t let him ask twice. With a swift swing, he tore open some of the fabric from Keith’s bodysuit, before Keith himself hurried and opened it properly - skin finally showing. Shiro dragged down the bodysuit, voracious, until it rested against the armor plates on his legs. Keith was built for controlled strength and speed. He’d always been slender, but Shiro was at loss now, seeing defined muscles where he was used to much fewer. Keith was taller, broader, as if years had passed by - and Keith did say he’d spent time in a different way than the others. Shiro still couldn’t understand what or how it happened, and to be honest he didn’t have time nor the mind to clarify it now.
Shiro allowed himself to admire Keith’s body for just a second, flushed nipples, bruises, and scarring every here and there. Guilt ate his attention away as Shiro lowered himself between Keith’s legs. Keith’s dick rested on his groin, untouched, with only the smaller drop of precome. Shiro hesitated, mind bubbling with doubts and remorse. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths in, and almost jumped when a hand reached his cheek.
Keith was looking at him, accepting as he’d been a minutes ago, during their fight, even after all the ugly things Shiro told him. Shiro didn’t need Keith to talk to understand that look. He was forgiven, even before he could ask for forgiveness. Shiro managed a pained smile, need overcoming his own feelings and guiding him back on Keith’s body. Keith held his breath and then cursed, when Shiro licked his length. Shiro held down Keith, kept his hands on Keith’s hips, and pinned him against the concrete. Shiro was holding so tight he knew he would’ve left more bruises.
Keith’s breath itched. Shiro kissed the tip of his erection, followed the whole length and then teased again - licking, breathing on his skin, taking only the tip in and then sucking, only to kiss him once more. Keith was slowly losing his mind, before Shiro decided to take him in - one hand grasped the base helping him out as he lowered himself further down. Keith groaned, diaphragm expanding and then contracting as Shiro came back, sucking him all the way up. He repeated the motion a few more times, head bobbing. Keith tasted of sweat, skin and precome and Shiro own saliva.
This must’ve been what owning someone felt like, Shiro distantly thought. His own scent mixing up with Keith’s, his own teeth scraping and marking Keith’s skin. This must’ve been what being someone’s felt like. Shiro was Keith’s, and Keith was Shiro’s. It would drive Shiro mad one day, or drive him back from it, Haggar a distant and vanishing presence.
“Fuck Shiro,” Keith managed, hands reaching for Shiro’s hair and cupping his face. Shiro could feel the tension run beneath them, how Keith was trying not to tug at his hair and fuck his mouth.
Shiro went further down, gag reflex arising as soon as Keith’s cock touched the back of his mouth. Hell, he would’ve let Keith fuck his mouth if only Shiro wasn’t this focused on having Keith his way. It was worth it, though, when Keith let out a louder moan and arched his hips into Shiro’s mouth. The tip of Shiro’s nose brushed against his pelvis, where thicker and scarce pubic hair circled the base of Keith’s dick.
Shiro opened his mouth a little more, tongue sliding in the tight space and licking the shaft of Keith’s dick as he raised his head - lungs screaming for air. He was tired, but he could still manage. He wanted to - and he would. A low growl escaped him as soon as he could taste more of Keith’s precome in his mouth, licking his lips.
Keith’s eyes were hungry and only for him, the dim light bringing out the shade of purple in his eyes - hair framing his sharp features.
Shiro felt himself sigh. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before Keith sat up and helped him out of his own armour, opened up his bodysuit.
Keith let out a breath when he saw Shiro’s dick - flushed and untouched - and kneeled in front of him, torso bowing further down. Shiro’s blood boiled as Keith took him in his mouth and gave little tentative nudges - eager and meek almost. How did such a proud and sharp mind become so hungry and obedient? Shiro didn’t know, and he was happy to not know. The only idea of Keith under sent shocks of tensions through him. Shiro cupped Keith’s face, holding him still, and moved his hips. Keith jerked back at the first push, throat gagging at the intrusion, but slowly relaxed and found a better angle. Shiro gave him time, let Keith get used to it and then cursed. His control slipped for a split second and his grip intensified around Keith’s locks.
Keith moaned against his dick, throat vibrating and sending sharp pleasure through Shiro. Shiro cursed. “You like that?” he asked, a mix of awe and surprise at Keith’s reactions to pain and force.
Keith managed to nod, and Shiro almost lost it. Fuck if he wasn’t gonna split Keith open if Keith kept that up. Keith was already pushing for more, despite Shiro waiting for him, he still tried to bob his head and slide Shiro further down his throat. Choked sounds abandoned Keith’s mouth wet with saliva and precome. Shiro growled, grip steadying Keith’s head with the angle Keith’d found, and then he fucked Keith’s mouth with steady pushes, precome and saliva sliding down Keith’s swelling lips.
Keith managed to stroke himself, every now and then, making little noises that weren’t choked against Shiro’s dick. Shiro threw his head backwards, teeth scraping at his own lips. “God, Keith, your mouth feels so good,” he growled. “Have you been practising?”
Keith let out a strangled moan, shook his head slightly and shivered when Shiro drew back in, had Keith swallow him whole and kept him there. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, baby? Shit, I want to fuck you so bad.”
Shiro let Keith stand back, so he could catch his breath, but didn’t let him go. He kissed Keith, mouth open and tongue tasting his own precome on Keith’s lips. It was intoxicating. Shiro didn’t realise how addicted he was to Keith until he gave in. His mind still bubbled with rage and violence, always ready to attack and find a way to hurt more than make Keith feel good. It kept scraping to find a way into his head, into his brain. Shiro still felt as if he were Haggar’s eyes, although she let him loose. He was sure of it. She knew Shiro was going to end his own life to complete his mission.
Shiro drew away from Keith and grabbed him once more by his neck. This time, he noticed how Keith sighed in his own hands. “Good boy,” Shiro snarled, low and warm, voice curling in a wicked grin.
Keith nodded, lips parted and eyes shut. “Harder.”
Shiro’s head span for a split second. He strengthened his grip until Keith’s breath became laboured. “What do you say?” Shiro said, voice curling.
“Please,” Keith moaned, and Shiro obliged, choked him nice and good until he was gasping for air.
Shiro released some pressure when Keith’s body cramped. Keith caught his breath, still hard and flustered against Shiro. Shiro let him lean in, held him and let himself grind against Keith’s unresponding body - too tired to do anything but moan against Shiro’s mouth.
Once Keith calmed down, Shiro reached for his chin, raised it so he could stare at Keith - and Keith would be forced to stare back. “Tell me,” Shiro ordered, a promise in his voice. It was low and husky, lust lingering at its edges. Keith didn’t reply, too tired to put up with anything more. “I’ll tell you then,” Shiro growled low. “I want to fuck you against the ground until you can feel my dick in the back of your throat, Keith.”
Keith’s pupils widened as Shiro spoke, lips parting, breath catching. “Fuck, please,” he exhaled, hands yanking at Shiro’s waist - fingernails scratching at Shiro’s skin.
Shiro hissed, the same dark and twisted need raising inside of him. “Turn around Keith,” he ordered, and then pushed Keith down as soon as Keith’s shoulders faced him. Keith fell on his fours, and Shiro flashed a satisfied grin. “Get down and keep your ass up. I don’t wanna see your face,” he growled, and Keith pushed his head against his crossed forearms, arched his back and let his ass on display for him. Shiro’s hand itched to hit Keith’s cheeks, leave red marks on them that would remember Keith of Shiro every time he’d sit anywhere. Especially in the Black Lion. “That’s it, baby,” Shiro let out - pleased with Keith, - hands parting his cheeks.
Keith shifted underneath him as Shiro licked his rim and then dragged his lips on the skin, depositing kisses here and there and then biting down with force. Keith squealed almost immediately, tensing and then letting out small complaints, hands slowly reaching back to stroke his own dick. Shiro took his time with Keith’s ass, he licked and pushed slightly, but never inside until Keith was a whimpering mess in front of him - begging Shiro to do more, to give more, to take more. Shiro grinned, and then proceeded to suck more angry marks here and there, before spitting a bit of saliva. He waited for Keith to realise it and brace himself, before Shiro pushed his tongue inside - felt Keith shudder and shiver.
Keith’s breath sped up, voice finding its way back into the silence and breaking it with small pleads - Shiro’s names, like it was a prayer, whimpers, yes, and less articulated sounds. Shiro slapped Keith once, hummed with pleasure when Keith’s voice broke into a moan by the end of it. Another few slaps and Keith’s skin was angry red, Shiro’s hand tingling. It took Keith a few more pushes, and another spank to shudder and stop Shiro with his hands - or at least, he tried to.
“Shiro, please!” Keith urged, and Shiro was more than happy to oblige. Still, he wasn’t going to fuck Keith raw. As much as Keith asked to be rough, this would’ve been too much.
Shit, Shiro hadn’t thought this through.
“Hold that thought for me, baby,” Shiro said, kneeling properly between Keith’s legs and gathering his mind. Think, what could he use? He’d never planned to end up in this situation, to be still alive, to be wanted by Keith. He’d never planned for any of this to happen. Shiro looked around, but the whole cave was as empty as any other galra facility. He wouldn’t find anything here, least of them lube. Hell, Shiro hadn’t even brought any from Earth when they left. He didn’t think he would be needing any of it, especially not to be considering once more sex.
His mind wandered for a bit, until an idea came up. It wasn’t proper lube, but it was still the only thing he always kept in his armor. Living with galra tech meant his skin would need care, especially after a fight - his skin, his scars got easily irritated with all the sweat, the heat his arm produced. Shiro tapped his belt pocket, opened it and drew out a small vial of oil. It was to deal with his scars, to avoid inflammation and pain - Allura and Coran gave it to him as soon as Shiro lamented his first injuries with the others. Shiro uncapped the vial, the soft, familiar smell of who-knows-what altean herbal remedy filled his nostrils. It wasn’t silicon-based, but it could make do. At least for some time.
“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” Keith snarled, he was staring with the corner of his eyes.
Shiro spanked him once more, hard, and emptied half of his vial between Keith’s cheeks. That alone was enough to shut Keith up, suddenly focused. Shiro didn’t hesitate. Keith was a furnace when his first digit slid in. His tongue had loosened up a bit the muscles, but it wasn’t as solid as a finger. Keith tensed, and Shiro started massaging slowly - finger curling until he could slid in more and more. Keith was once more a whimpering mess by the time Shiro could press his knuckle against his rim - a second finger ready to slide in. He eased his way inside Keith, taking his sweet time watching Keith melt from his fingers.
Shiro adjusted his wrist so he would scissor his fingers, test how loose Keith was. Then, he fondled once more, with intent, until he found a soft and higher bit of flesh. Shiro’s lips curled in a smile when he found Keith’s prostate, could almost foretaste Keith’s voice when he pressed his fingers, lightly at first, and then with increasing pressure. Keith had been complaining for the whole time Shiro had been fingering him, but then arched with a sharp moan when Shiro curled them - muscles clenching and sucking Shiro in.
“ Shiro! ” Keith gnarled.
Shiro laughed, dark and low. “Yes, baby boy?” He stopped moving his fingers.
Keith let out a frustrated noise, hips moving, trying to fuck himself against Shiro’s fingers. “C’mon, c’mon. You ass.”
Shiro stopped him, leaned forward until he could cover Keith’s body with his - almost, at least. Keith was bigger than he remembered. “I can’t hear you, Keith,” Shiro whispered near Keith’s ear, nibbling at his earlobe.
“Fuck, please Shiro, please, ” Keith pleaded after a bit, hips erratic but still unmoving.
Shiro snickered, his hand circling the base of his own cock, stroking it and helping it reaching full length once more. He’d been so focused on pleasing Keith, he’d completely forgot about himself. A few strokes and he drew his fingers away from Keith’s ass to empty the rest of the vial on himself. Keith’s complains followed shortly, and then choked when Shiro drove in with steady pressure and no warning.
Shiro almost lost his vision. Keith was tight and hot and sucking him in. The mixture was enough to let him slide, but not too easily. He drove home slowly, waiting for Keith to breathe through it and adjust himself to the intrusion. It was torture, it was perfect, he was hurting and yet it was pleasure that bottled up in his abdomen. Liquid shocks and waves of heat.
Keith’s breaths were uneven, shaky, broken. Shiro’s too, as he pushed inside Keith until he could feel skin against his own groin. He cursed, breathless, and pushed a bit more - Keith almost screaming until his voice broke once more into a moan. Shiro gained every last millimetre he could, before stopping and silently checking on Keith.
Keith was pinned down by his only weight, although Shiro knew better than that - knew Keith could easily flip him over if he wanted, as he’d done during their fight. It did wonders to Shiro’s erection, knowing he’d had all that power on Keith - that Keith would let him, and Shiro would still treat him right.
“Tell me again, Keith,” Shiro breathed, “what is it that you want?” He was still waiting, even though he could feel his own edge coming closer and closer by the second. Yet, Shiro waited, tasted every groan and prayer.
Keith swore under his breath. “Fuck me. Please, Shiro, fuck me.”
Shiro bit down on Keith’s shoulder, possessiveness moving through him as he fucked into Keith with controlled thrusts. Keith steadied himself as best as he could too, gave Shiro something to push against without losing nor his grip or the pace. Skin smacking, breaths breaking, voice vibrating, Shiro lost track of time, of his own body, of his own mind. Small flashes of pain kept him present, focused. Keith was a sobbing mess beneath him when Shiro wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. Keith tried to escape him, to escape the overstimulation, but Shiro pinned him down, held him tight with his free arm and kept going. Until he could feel Keith arching more and more, walls tightening around him, and Keith’s voice stammering words.
“Shiro- fuck, Shiro, I’m...”
Shiro sped up the pace, held Keith still and fucked him until Keith moaned - high, broken, and exhausted - and came right by Shiro’s hand and thrusts. Shiro kept stroking Keith through his orgasm, hand covered in come and fatigue ready to catch up with him. It took him only a few moments before Shiro could feel his own orgasm bottling up in his testicles.
“Come on, Shiro,” Keith encouraged weakly, he’d gone limp underneath Shiro, but his legs still held his ass high so Shiro didn’t lose the angle.
Shiro picked up the pace once more, abdomen tensing. His moans became somewhat desperate, he could feel Keith arching as much as he could, opposing pressure even though he was being pushed against the wall. Shiro came with a cry, vision blacking out, breath strangled. His whole body had a violent spasm, until Shiro was able to move again and ride his orgasm through all its waves. Come leaked down Keith’s thighs as Shiro collapsed on top of Keith - breathing hard, kissing the bruises he’d left. Keith was silent beneath him, warm and giddy, stretched and worn out. Shiro inhaled, pressed his nose in the crook of Keith’s neck and exhaled. His mind was finally emptied, a blank page he could write on out of his own volition. It felt his once more, only for real this time.
Panting, they both waited a few seconds, before Shiro slid out and laid on his side next to Keith, admiring his own work. Keith was a sweaty and sticky mess, watery eyes and flushed cheeks, lips parted and heavy breaths. Shiro couldn’t help but huff some relief out when he noticed Keith’s smile. He closed his eyes and let Keith drag him on his chest, where Shiro could curl up and be held tight.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Keith reassured him. “I’ve got you.”
Shiro wished they could stay like this forever.