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Keith doesn’t mean to have more than a drink or two, but after the vows and the speeches and the dancing…
Well no one else leading up to Shiro’s wedding expected him to get through this sober. In fact, every so often his mom or a paladin would swing by and deliver him a cautious glance and a glass of champagne.
By the time the evening is winding down Keith isn’t sure how many he’s had. Only that it’s getting more difficult by the minute to keep himself contained. He promised he wouldn’t make a scene. Had committed completely to not bringing up his feelings after Shiro had cheerfully told him of his and Curtis’ engagement.
But his strength is waning after being through a whole day of watching Shiro wrap his arm around Curtis and kiss his cheek. You can want the love of your life to be happy, but that doesn’t mean your insides don’t burn to cinders.
When the song changes over to a slow dance and Curtis leads his new husband out onto the floor beneath the twinkling lights, Keith calls it quits. He snatches another full glass of champagne off the nearest table and turns heel.
His mom catches his eye as he beelines it out of the tent, and he makes a gesture to detail he’s leaving. They’d discussed it earlier today, so she’s not surprised. Still her expression goes soft and painful to look at. She mouths, want company?
It’s so kind that the tears blink right into his eyes. Keith shakes his head and pulls the anger forward. He’s not ready to break down about this, not here and not now.
Anger has always been so much safer. He coats himself in it now and turns away, striding out of the tent.
The reception is in the center courtyard of a beautiful building with an attached hotel. Keith has his key and could go back to the room, but then he knows he won’t be able to hold himself together and he really doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night crying.
Instead he walks around to the side of the building that is likely to be unoccupied. They’re in the middle of a mostly deserted area. It’s sand dunes and cacti in every direction, and perfect for hosting loud parties. It’s also good for finding a dark and quiet space.
Keith stops and leans against the building, facing the desert. He’s far enough from the party he can’t even hear the music anymore. It’s pitch black because the planet has no moons, but that’s perfect for star gazing. Above in the sky there’s a pinkish cloud similar to Earth’s Milky Way.
Keith sips his champagne and digs into the anger. It’s unfair that after everything, after the missing and the saving and the whole fucking war that this is where he should end up.
Not alone, but lonely. Aching in a way he cannot fix, in a way he has no right to complain about. Keith had thought for so long that when the timing was right, that when all their looks and touches began to roll into each other there would just be a moment.
But the war got worse and Shiro got distant and they were just so busy that Keith didn’t have the time to look at it, to patch it. They were too busy saving each other’s lives to worry about feelings.
And somewhere in there Shiro fell in love with another man. Some nobody bridge soldier without enough personality to fill a thimble. Keith grits his teeth.
He knows he’s not alone in the thought. He’d seen the looks on the paladins faces when Shiro introduced his new boyfriend. It had almost been enough to break a bitter laugh from his chest.
Since when did Shiro go for quiet and complacent?
His footing stumbles a little in the soft sand and Keith curses as he rights himself. A little drunker than he thought he was.
Still he sips at his drink and enjoys the bristling bubbles as they go down his throat. The wind is colder on this side of the building and that’s good too, he feels overly hot beneath his suit.
Keith ruminates on the unfairness. On the bittersweet taste of things he’ll only ever get to see and never experience. He gets so deep into his head that he almost misses the sound of someone nearby. There’s no reason for someone to be coming this way, and no place to hide against the long wall of the building.
Keith downs the last of the drink and decides to eviscerate whoever it is. At least it’ll be a good funnel for the anger tearing at him.
Except the head that pokes out to look down one side of the building and then the other is none other than Shiro’s. He spots Keith immediately.
“Hey,” he says, walking off the cement and down into the darker, sandy area where Keith is lurking. “Krolia said you headed this way.”
“Got tired of the party,” Keith says, voice clipped.
“Yeah,” Shiro comes to stand behind him, leaning against the wall. “It’s a lot.”
“Uh huh.” Keith grips the glass in his hand tightly, this is the absolute last thing he needs.
“So—”
“Look—”
They both speak at the same thing. “Sorry,” Shiro grins, “go ahead.”
Keith takes a long breath and then unhinges his jaw. “I’m not really in the mood for company right now.” He says, and then because maybe that came out too angry. “Sorry.”
Keith keeps his eyes straight ahead to avoid seeing Shiro’s expression.
“Oh. Uh, everything okay?”
The glass in Keith’s hand splinters, and Shiro jumps up off the wall. It’s just so incomprehensible that he should be here asking Keith that on today of all days.
And maybe Keith is a little drunk.
“Woah, careful,” Shiro says, trying to take the glass out of Keith’s hand before it can shatter and hurt him.
Keith slaps his hand away and then tosses the glass out into the desert. There’s a distant sound of it breaking, but it’s not nearly enough. It doesn’t encompass how big the break is in Keith.
“Don’t touch me!” Keith hisses. “Not today.”
He catches Shiro’s eyes then and can see the bewilderment and hurt. It makes him angrier.
“Don’t look like I kicked your puppy,” Keith spits. “If there’s anyone who should look like that,” Keith gestures wildly to his face, “it should be me.”
“Keith, what’s going on?”
Keith is breathing hard now, turned completely to face Shiro. “No. You cannot honestly be this stupid. You know,” he waves at the building. “And I’ve done it all, the best man stuff, the speeches, the smiling. I did it all until I couldn’t do it anymore and had to leave. Then you follow me out here and have the audacity to ask me what’s going on?!”
Keith shoves at Shiro’s shoulder. “And you know I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this. There was only one thing I didn’t want to do today, because today was about your happiness, but then— but you’re— argh!”
Keith steps back to grab at his own hair and tug.
Shiro looks surprised at being pushed, or maybe at what Keith’s saying. It’s hard to tell. Keith feels like a bottle coming uncorked, out of control.
“I need you to leave before I ruin the rest of it. Go back to the party and your hus—Curtis.”
“No, you’re obviously hurting, I’m not just going to leave you.”
Keith could scream. He tears harder at his hair to keep all the words down.
“Hey, hey stop that.” Then Shiro is in his space, pulling his hands out of his hair.
Keith has a fit— tries to free his hands to hit or maim himself or Shiro, anything to pull himself back from the edge.
But Shiro tightens his grip on Keith’s wrists and shoves him into the wall. When Keith tries to kick him, he pressed his hips into Keith’s firmly.
Keith growls and strains against him, but Shiro is unmovable.
“That’s enough,” Shiro says.
Shiro’s face is inches from his, brow furrowed and mouth in a flat line.
Keith bares his teeth. “It’s never enough.”
“Explain.” Shiro’s voice is hard.
Keith tries once more to push off the wall, but Shiro has him completely boxed in, a strong line of heat all the way down. He leans harder with his hips to counter Keith.
The anger slides into something more dangerous.
“It’s never enough to just watch you have your happiness.”
“What do you mean?” Shiro says, but his face is doing something like he’s starting to get the shape of it. He looks angry.
Keith burns everywhere they’re touching. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
His tone is still overly aggressive, and Shiro always rises to the occasion. “Yes.” The word is biting, a dare. It’s the challenge when he asks Keith to spar, the fire when he clips Keith while hoverbike racing just to get the advantage. It’s requesting trouble.
There’s an answer that could stop this, could pacify Shiro, but when Keith opens his mouth that’s not what comes out. “Your husband fucking sucks.”
Shiro tightens his hold on Keith’s wrists, his face is a fury.
Before Shiro can say anything, Keith goes for the kill. “I don’t know how you could choose him when you could have had me.”
That cuts right through the anger, but raggedly like a serrated knife. Keith is damaging something right now, but he’s wound too tight to care. Too wounded to care.
Shiro loosens his grip just enough for Keith to grind his hips into Shiro’s.
Keith does what he always does, goes in headfirst, fists swinging, not a thought to spare for failure. He already broken the promise to himself, so everything is going the way of fire or ash.
“Have you?” Shiro looks completely sidelined, cheeks red and eyes wide.
Keith doesn’t miss how he glances at Keith’s mouth.
“Oh, did you not know?” Keith says, shifting in the hold to rub against Shiro. Immediately Shiro tightens his grip and presses his hips back into Keith’s.
It’s more to get him to settle, but Keith can feel the hardness and heat between them. It lights him up all the way down to his toes. “I’ve always been yours, I thought you knew.”
Shiro makes an agonized sound and buries his head into Keith’s throat. His breath there is heavy, leaving dampness on Keith’s skin.
“I’m married,” Shiro says.
“I know, it’s why I was leaving.” Keith nudges his nose down Shiro’s neck, smelling the thickness of his sweat and cologne. He smells amazing.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Shiro accents this with a pulse of his fingers around Keith’s wrists.
“I don’t want to leave either,” Keith whispers, his mouth just resting on Shiro’s pulse point.
Shiro swears and pulls his head back. “I can’t do this.”
There’s an inch of space between them, but Shiro moves no further. “I know,” Keith says.
They stare at each other in the dim lighting and neither moves. Shiro’s completely hard now, the dress pants of his suit doing little to hide it. “I didn’t know.”
Keith feels the edge of his mouth tilt up. “I see that now. I would have mentioned but I thought you… knew.”
Shiro hides in the crook of Keith’s neck. “Fuck.”
The tension is so thick that Keith has to think about breathing. He can feel himself positively dripping, so keyed up he can hardly think. A small, breathy sound escapes him.
“We can’t,” Shiro says, even as his hips shift against Keith’s.
“We can’t,” Keith agrees, and pushes his hips back. The angle is bad through all the clothing, but Keith still gets just the edge of pleasure.
“I love Curtis.” Keith can feel the words mouthed into his throat. He should feel bitter about them, but in the moment it feels like a victory. Of what, Keith couldn’t say.
“You do,” he says, and nuzzles Shiro’s ear.
“But you—” lips are grazing up Keith’s jaw. It’s not a kiss, but his nerves feel electric anyway. He’s buzzing.
He has to know. “What about me?”
Shiro’s almost at his mouth now, and they’re not touching but it’s palatable in the air. Keith meets his eyes, dark and mesmerizing.
“I didn’t know,” Shiro says again, this time like a curse.
“I’d always want you,” Keith says. It’s not exactly a plea, but the connotation is undeniable. I want you.
His lips are so close that Keith can feel his breath. “I can’t.”
Keith nudges his nose. “I’m not trying to make you.”
Wind rustles Keith’s hair. “Would you stop me?” Shiro breathes.
It’s almost too difficult to look at Shiro this close, so Keith closes his eyes and tilts his chin up. “No.”
Shiro’s breathing is bad, but his hands are loosening bands on Keith. Keith’s heart jumps, excited and afraid. He shouldn’t, but he doesn’t want to lose Shiro. Doesn’t want to lose him before he ever got to have him.
He licks his lips and says so softly it’s can barely be heard, “Takashi.”
The next second Shiro is kissing him, hot and hard, their breaths scrambled together, gasping. Keith’s wrists fall out of Shiro’s grip, a little numb but Keith can’t think about that.
Can’t think about anything but clutching Shiro and holding him tightly to him.
Shiro crushes him into the wall, hips following a haphazard rhythm neither one of them are really trying to perfect. It’s enough just to feel Shiro’s body strong against his.
Shiro kisses like the edge of space. It’s wild and fizzling, unpredictable in the way he dips his tongue into Keith’s mouth and nips and sucks. Keith can do nothing but let himself be devoured.
“Please,” Keith manages to say between their lips.
Shiro holds his face and kisses him again and again. Like he can’t stop.
It’s so good.
In unspoken agreement they tear at each other, clothes flung down into the sand. Keith feels like a thing possessed, trying to touch Shiro everywhere, trying to lick and suck and bite. He wants to claw into him, leave his mark so deep that no one could ever think they could have him. That everyone would know he belongs to Keith.
When Shiro gets his hands in Keith’s underwear, Keith whines high and thready.
“You’re so wet,” Shiro says. He kisses Keith’s ear.
“Only for you,” Keith’s heart is battering in his chest.
Shiro swears and then dips a finger down and into Keith’s cunt. Keith bites at Shiro’s shoulder, tightening around the digit.
“Baby,” Shiro takes his mouth again, kissing him over and over again as he plunges his finger into Keith.
“More,” Keith urges, trying to lift his leg but stopped by his last article of clothing.
Between the two of them they manage to get Keith fully stripped and then his legs wrapped around Shiro’s waist. When Shiro’s hand grips the backside of Keith’s thigh he can feel the coldness of Shiro’s wedding band.
He tugs Shiro back in and kisses him.
Shiro goes back to fingering Keith now with two fingers. It’s not enough, but every time he whines for more between kisses Shiro pulls his fingers almost all the way out and plays with Keith’s sensitive opening and the wetness dripping from it.
“You want it real bad, don’t you?” Shiro slides a finger through Keith’s folds and up to where Keith’s cock is red and throbbing.
“I need you.”
Shiro groans and bites Keith’s lower lip. “You’re so hot, I can’t—" Keith tightens around the fingers when they slip back inside him. “Gonna feel so good on my cock.”
Keith’s nails dig into the back of Shiro’s neck and he keens, writhing down to take those fingers deeper. “More.”
Shiro teases him a moment longer and then adjusts Keith higher on his waist so he can pull his cock out of his own underwear.
Keith can’t see it from this angle, but he feels Shiro’s fingers slide through his wetness, gathering it to slick his own cock.
It’s so mind-numbingly hot Keith thinks he’s dying. “Shiro, Shiro,” he clutches at Shiro’s hair, his shoulders, peppers kisses across his face. He needs it so bad. It’s like a full-body ache.
“I’m here, shh.” Shiro kisses his temple, the apple of his cheek, and then just off-center his lips. “I’m going to give you what you need.”
“Takashi.”
Shiro makes a gorgeous sound and aligns the tip of his cock with Keith’s opening. “I didn’t know,” he says, “but now, god.” The tip slips into Keith with the position and gravity.
“Fuck me,” Keith can barely breath. Another pulse of wetness drips out of him with how turned on he is. He’s never wanted anything this badly.
“I shouldn’t,” Shiro says, but the words are at odds with how tightly he holds Keith, with how Keith slips down another inch on his cock. “But you.”
Keith mouths at his throat and when Shiro doesn’t go on, “Me?”
Shiro pulls Keith the rest of the way down, settling him on his cock and filling Keith so full his mouth drops open with a cry.
“But you,” and Shiro’s voice sounds wrecked, “how could I resist you?”
And Keith doesn’t have any words. Not for the huge cock that is bumping his cervix, or the hands leaving bruises on Keith’s thighs. Shiro nips at his throat and up to his ear.
“You feel so good,” Shiro whispers.
Then he starts to move.
It starts slow, but the heat between them is already stifling, and the rhythm quickly becomes brutal.
Keith loves it. He grabs at every part of Shiro, blinking tears from his eyes. The feeling is scouring and blissful, wrenching him tighter and tighter. His cunt clenches around the thickness and he still wants more. Wants Shiro to destroy and remake him. Own him.
Neither of them spare a hand for his cock, but it doesn’t matter. It feels so good and he needs his hands around Shiro’s neck more, needs to keep him close.
Drunken laughter from a distance disrupts their flow. Immediately Shiro stops, his cock as deep as it can go inside Keith, one of his hands covering Keith’s mouth. The odds of anyone beside Shiro choosing to look around the backside of the building are astronomical, but also not zero.
They don’t move, listening to the chatter of two women move closer and then pause on the other side of the wall. They’re slurring and saying something that can’t be understood from the distance.
Keith curses them, his body so tense with the need to come. He’d been so close and now reality was encroaching and Shiro was going to—
Shiro’s cock slipped out of him and then plunged back inside.
Keith almost bites through his tongue to keep quiet at the spike of pleasure that runs through him. His eyes snap to Shiro’s, and he looks positively devilish. Like he knows exactly how to ruin him.
Inside Keith, Shiro’s dick twitches. Keith would whine if Shiro’s hand wasn’t still pressed right to his mouth. It’s obscene how huge he feels.
As the women continue their chat nearby, Shiro fucks him. It’s slow because of how wet Keith is and the resulting noise, but it’s hard to protest when it feels this good.
“You like that baby?” Shiro whispers into his ear. Keith clenches and Shiro pulls out and then drives back in deep. It hits all the good places inside him. Shiro does it over and over again until Keith’s mindless.
Tears drip down his cheeks, he’s so close to coming. He wants it and doesn’t want it. Wants it to go on forever. Wants to feel this good for the rest of his life.
“Can’t let them hear you now.” Shiro whispers. “Don’t want anyone to see how wet and desperate you are, do you? That’s just for me, isn’t it?”
Shiro sucks his earlobe into his mouth and Keith tightens his thighs around his waist. He can’t handle this side of Shiro. Can’t deal with what it’s doing to him.
“You going to come just on my cock? I’m barely fucking you but you’re drooling. You like the idea of us sneaking around out here? Giving in to what we shouldn’t?”
Keith nods behind the hand, completely out of control. The only thing he can focus on is the pleasure. How tight he is around Shiro, how hot that cock is driving into him.
“Me too,” Slides his cock out, back in. “It’s never been like this, with anyone else.”
Keith would laugh hysterically if he was allowed to speak. Because of course it wasn’t. No one has ever had what they have. No one can ever have what they have.
His pussy pulses, tightens for his approaching orgasm. He wants to warn Shiro, but when he meets his eyes Shiro’s are wicked dark. He knows.
Shiro’s hand shifts, the fingers slipping into Keith’s mouth. “They’re walking away,” he grunts, picking up the pace once again. “Just hold on for a few more seconds.”
An impossible task. Keith’s already at his limit, strained, and as Shiro starts pounding into him he can’t stop the way his body crests.
“Taa—“ is all he can get out around the fingers before Shiro is pulling his fingers free and crushing his body into Keith’s, fucking hard up into him.
“Yeah, that’s it baby, come on. Fuck, fuck, you feel— I’m gonna— please let me come inside you— “ Shiro’s voice is still soft, but all gravel.
“Please,” Keith gasps through his orgasm, his cock spurting a mess between them.
Shiro slams up into him a few more times and then buries his face into Keith’s shoulder and comes. Keith can feel the pulses, the whuffing pleasurable noises Shiro can’t hold in as he grinds his cum up into Keith’s pussy.
It extends Keith’s orgasm, sinking deep into his muscles and bones. It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had, erasing everything straight out of his head.
In the blissful few seconds after, they clutch each other and breathe. There’s a heavy smell of sex, the slickness of sweat and come. Keith’s mind wanders in darkness before his eyes flutter open and take in the stars above.
Every part of his body is good and sore. Shiro helps him carefully unwind his legs and stand with the help of the wall.
When the weight of what they’ve done starts to settle back in, Keith waits for the guilt to hit. It’s bad, he knows it’s bad, but he doesn’t feel it.
He feels sated and tired. Drained of all his anger.
Still desperately in love with this man.
It’s hard to feel bad about any part of that.
Shiro finally leans away from him, his face flushed and sweaty, his hair a mess. He smiles. “So.”
Keith lets out a small laugh, because he doesn’t know what to say. “Yeah.”
“That was…”
It was everything. Good, bad. Perfect, ill-timed. Infidelity at a wedding.
Let no one ever say they aren’t peak disaster.
Shiro cups his jaw, his thumb clearing the tear trails off Keith’s face. “I don’t regret it.”
“Me either.”
Shiro leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his mouth. “I think, though, I regret everything that came before it today.”
The wedding. The hope that alights in Keith’s breastbone is so bright he should feel ashamed.
But, it’s Shiro.
“Then what now?”
Shiro looks down at their clothes scattered in the sand, at their nude bodies still pressed close. There’s cum dripping down the inside of Keith’s thigh and a hickey on Shiro’s throat.
There is absolutely no way they don’t look like they’ve just had life-changing sex.
“Do you think we can sneak to your room without anyone seeing us?” He tucks a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear.
“For you? Anything.” Keith says with a grin.
Shiro kisses him.