Archive of Our Own

Shiro drives them home in a bit of a daze, grateful both for how Keith fills the silence with happy chatter about the extensive list of things he’s excited to experience (at one point Shiro does have to explain that quicksand doesn’t really just happen ), as well as the grounding grip he keeps on one of Shiro’s hands, their fingers laced tightly together. Driving one-handed makes some of the turns he has to take a bit more challenging, but he’s not the Garrison Research Facility’s senior test pilot for nothing.

More than once, while waiting at stoplights he gets caught up just looking at Keith, the realness of him. Keith was hot when he was pixels on a screen; alive and real, he’s a masterpiece. He’s always had Cupid’s bow lips and dazzling eyes and thick, dark brows, but now, up close, his smooth skin has pores, his lower lip is a little chapped, his eyebrows unshaped and two long lashes tangle at the corner of one violet eye.

He’s perfect.

The third time Shiro gets honked at is when he hears Keith laugh for the first time. Even at Shiro’s own expense, it instantly becomes his new favorite sound. Eyes twinkling, Keith says, “Interesting driving technique you’ve got. Do you pilot like this, too? Should I be taking notes?”

“Shut it, you,” Shiro grumbles without heat, heart skipping a beat when it makes Keith laugh again.

Even with Keith right next to him, holding his hand, laughing and talking, an almost dreamlike fog follows Shiro through the rest of the drive, through his front door and the entryway where they kick their shoes off, and along the tour Shiro gives of his modest home.

He’s a little embarrassed at the mess that’s accumulated during the past few days spent moping, but in his defense there is absolutely no way he could’ve predicted the company he’d be bringing home today. Keith doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice, too busy idly playing with the fingers of Shiro’s hand clasped between both of his, taking in Shiro’s bachelor-nerd decor and generally looking too gorgeous to put into words.

Shiro has barely finished showing Keith around when all the energy drinks he had downed throughout the morning in efforts to feel even slightly human catch up with him, and he reluctantly excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving Keith in the living room with instructions to make himself at home.

He ducks quickly to his ensuite, stopping on the way through his bedroom to cram the worst of the laundry into his hamper and swipe the trash from his nightstand into the already over-full trash can. 

He washes his hands when he’s done in the bathroom, taking a moment to splash some water on his face, hoping to clear his head and settle his nerves. “You have nothing to be nervous about,” he says aloud to his dripping face in the mirror. He grabs the nearest hand towel and blots his face dry before gripping the edge of the sink and staring hard at himself. “It’s only the sentient A.I. network you’ve totally fallen for who is now in the body of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, who probably likes you just as much as you like him just so long as you don’t fuck this up.”

He stares at the dark circles under his eyes borne of too much worry and too little sleep and wishes the pep talks he gives himself were even half as good as the ones he gives nervous trainees.

“Right.” He clears his throat, gives himself a final nod, and opens the door.

Shiro is not ready for the sight that greets him.

It’s Keith, sitting on Shiro’s bed, cross-legged and barefoot and flipping through the most recent issue of the Garrison’s quarterly tech journal which Shiro had left on his nightstand.

The surreal haze that’s been following Shiro evaporates, a thunderclap of clarity taking its place; this is real, Keith is here, he’s alive, and he’s sitting on Shiro’s bed like it’s right where he belongs. Then he’s looking up at Shiro and smiling at him— for him— and Shiro wants to laugh and cry and hug Keith and kiss him and hold him tight, tight, tight and never let him go.

“Shiro?” Keith sets the journal to the side, starting to look concerned when Shiro stands and stares for too long, paralyzed.

“You’re here,” Shiro blurts, voice coming out rougher than he expects.

It’s a perfectly moronic thing to say but it doesn’t seem to throw Keith at all. His smile just goes painfully soft and he says, “Yeah,” and “Come here,” and in a breath Shiro is beside him and gathering him up into his arms, breathing him in.

“I missed you so much,” Shiro confesses into silky black hair. “I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you.”

Keith shudders against him, holding Shiro just as tight. “I’m sorry. Alfor forbid me from telling you, in case- in case something went wrong. I was going to warn you anyway but then it was time for the procedure and you still hadn’t logged on.” He clambers onto Shiro’s lap. “But everything went fine, and now I’m here. With you.”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, distantly grateful that they no longer have an audience so he can hold Keith as long and as tight as they both want.

“Do you really think I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever met?” Keith’s breath is hot on the side of Shiro’s throat.

Shiro flushes. “I- yeah, I do. How, uh, how much of that did you hear?”

Keith pulls back with a smile to look up at Shiro, sweet and sly at once. “Enough.”

Shiro groans. Keith laughs.

“If it makes you feel any better…” Keith says conspiratorially, shifting so that he’s straddling Shiro’s thighs and Shiro is doubly grateful that they’re alone when he slides even closer so that they’re almost nose to nose. “I’ve totally fallen for you too. And I definitely like you as much as you like me, and the only way you could fuck this up would be if you don’t kiss me, like, right now.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathes. “Yeah. Yeah, ok.” 

He cups Keith’s face in his hands, leaning in and gently drawing Keith forward until the scant inches between their lips disappear, and between one breath and another their lips touch and they’re kissing—Shiro is kissing Keith and Keith is kissing him back and it’s soft and a little wet and absolutely perfect.

Keith starts to smile into the kiss and it makes Shiro smile too, until they have to break the kiss altogether because they can’t stop grinning at each other.

"Wow." Keith touches his fingers to his kiss-shiny lips, a pretty dusting of pink highlighting the graceful curve of his cheekbones.

"Yeah? So what's the verdict on kissing? Good?"

"Very. But I mean…that’s just a single data point. I’m gonna need way, way more evidence before I can formulate a definitive conclusion.” Keith gives Shiro a saucy wink and Shiro bursts out laughing. 

“Well I would be honored to be your research assistant.” 

“Only the Garrison’s finest for its most important research,” Keith teases, already leaning back in.

“Mhm,” Shiro agrees absently, losing the thread of the joke in favor of kissing his almost-definitely-boyfriend. 

They trade a few more of those sweet, lingering kisses before Keith pulls back. “I want to try tongue kissing now. Will you teach me how?”

And what is Shiro gonna do, say no?

“Open your mouth a little when I kiss you,” he instructs softly. “Tell me if you like this.”

He catches Keith’s lips again, this time using the hands still cradling Keith’s jaw to show him how to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. He dips his tongue between Keith’s parted lips, brushing with Keith’s for just a moment before pulling back.

Or, he means to pull back, but the man in his lap doesn’t seem intent on letting him go anywhere with the way he surges forward the moment their lips part, pulling Shiro back in with his grip on his shoulders. “Again,” he demands with an impatient sound and slots their lips back together.

Shiro guesses Keith likes it.

He half expects Keith to shove his tongue into his mouth but, eager though he is, Keith waits for Shiro to be the one to press in, to lick into his mouth again. He meets Shiro’s tongue with his own this time though, sliding it along Shiro’s the way Shiro had done the first time. Shiro licks back, twines their tongues together and draws Keith’s out to lick into his own mouth, and just like that, they’re making out on Shiro’s bed.

It only takes a few minutes for Shiro to feel the shift, when Keith stops waiting to follow Shiro’s lead, taking what he’s learned in a few short minutes and using it to kiss Shiro breathless. It comes as no surprise that Keith has picked up the technique with alacrity; Shiro already knew he was remarkable but fuck, he’s already so good at this and Shiro is in trouble.

Shiro sinks both hands into Keith's hair, a safe place to touch that he already knows Keith likes. Keith’s answering moan is delicious and altogether indecent—even muffled into Shiro’s mouth, it’s still louder than the one he’d let out at the lab which had flustered Shiro so badly. He reminds himself sternly of patience, but Shiro can’t help wondering what other sounds he’ll eventually be able to pull from him.

Keith’s sweetbread scent lingers on his tongue and Shiro can’t get enough of the taste of him. Hungry for more, he tightens his fingers in Keith’s hair and sucks on his tongue. Shiro is definitely feeling the stirrings of arousal, but his dick physically twitches at the sound Keith makes then. A sharp inhale, followed by a noise that sounds like it’s being torn from him, loud and high and tremulous.

Keith breaks the kiss with a heaving breath, pulling back far enough for Shiro to see how his flush has begun to spread from his cheeks down his throat, his reddened lips, and wide, dark eyes, but not far enough to make Shiro loosen his grip.

“Sorry,” he gasps, to Shiro’s bafflement. “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to be so…loud.”

Shiro blinks. He has no clue where Keith got the idea that that was a problem but it certainly wasn’t from him.

“You never, ever have to apologize for that,” Shiro says fervently. “You sound so fucking sexy, I want to hear every single noise you make.”

“Oh,” Keith says, looking both pleased and unexpectedly shy. He hesitates for a moment, then says, “Having a body is so weird.”

“It is,” Shiro agrees with a chuckle. “Just as a general statement, or was there something specific?”

Keith snorts. “Well, I mean in general, yeah, but like specifically with like, sex noises…I just- I mean, I basically lived inside the internet which is like eighty-five percent porn so I knew people made noises, I just thought it was on purpose. I’ve never made a sound like that before and it was like I just- like I couldn’t help it. I didn’t have any control over it. Is that…normal?”

He bites his lip, leaving little white indents.

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro sighs, bringing his hands back to Keith’s face, cradling his heated cheeks, “that is completely normal. Part of having a body is it doing things you don’t anticipate or have control over. If being noisy makes you uncomfortable, there are ways to muffle it, or to train yourself to be quieter. And if that’s what you want I will do everything I can to help you. But selfishly? I meant what I said, I want to hear you. Some people are naturally quieter and that’s totally fine, but if your body is telling you to make noise, you should only hold back if you want to. Because for me, the thought of making you feel so good that you can’t control the noises you’re making is unbelievably hot.”

“Oh,” Keith breathes. “Um. Wow.”

“Sorry for the, uh, tirade,” Shiro chuckles sheepishly. “Also, I didn’t mean all of that for, y’know, now. Just for…future stuff. And only if you want to.”

“Oh, I definitely want to,” Keith purrs, wiggling a little in Shiro’s lap. It makes Shiro want to get his hands on those lithe little hips, feel him move. Again he reminds himself, one thing at a time.

Keith kisses him before Shiro can think of a response, confident now in how he licks into Shiro’s mouth, trailing his own hands into Shiro’s hair, scratching through his undercut and the longer hair on top. He cups Shiro’s face with both hands, tilting his head to put him where he wants him to deepen the kiss.

Shiro shouldn’t be surprised to have his own moves immediately used against him, but he’s still not expecting it when Keith presses in close and sucks on his tongue. Shiro groans at the feeling of it like liquid arousal down his spine and his hands tighten in Keith’s hair, making him gasp sharply through his nose as his hips jolt forward, then again more deliberately, moaning loudly with the new sensations.

Even through his sweater and Keith’s jeans, Shiro can feel the hard press of Keith’s cock as he grinds against him in jerky rolls of his hips.

Keith loses track of the kiss shortly after, mouth falling open and little ah ah ah sounds falling out of it.

“Fuck I need—” Keith breaks off with a shaky moan as he ruts, then moan again as Shiro scratches through his hair.

“Go on,” Shiro encourages. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Oh,” Keith gasps. “I- I like that.”

“What’s that, being called ‘baby’? You like being my baby boy?”

Keith nods, blushing even brighter.

“Good. I like it, too.” He pets Keith’s hair out of his face. “Now what was it that my baby needed?”

Keith’s hands fall to Shiro’s shoulders and grip tightly. “I don’t- I need something, there’s this- this itch, I guess, it feels like it’s under my skin. I feel like I can’t stay still and it’s all hot and twisty in my stomach. I want to do more, but I…I’m not sure what to do.”

Shiro has to close his eyes and breathe for a moment—he’s never had anyone describe to him the feeling of being horny— the part of himself that wants to wrap Keith up in a little blanket burrito and protect him from the world warring with the part that wants to put him on his cock and ruin him.

The sides quickly reach a stalemate and Shiro presses a sweet kiss to Keith’s lips. “There’s lots of things we can do, you just have to tell me what you’re ready for. I don’t want to overwhelm you and give you a bad experience.”

“I don’t think you could possibly do that,” Keith responds earnestly. “And I think I might like being overwhelmed, if it was you doing it.”

Shiro can’t help himself; he kisses Keith again, long and deep, pouring all his helpless adoration into it. Keith kisses back with the same fervor, and it’s long minutes before they manage to break apart again.

“You should take this off,” Keith says, hands dropping to toy with the hem of Shiro’s sweater. “I want to put my hands on you. You’ve been teasing me by being so hot and wearing such horrid shirts. As recompense for my pain I think I deserve to finally see what’s underneath.”

“I can’t believe that no one likes my elf shirt,” Shiro laments. “And what do you mean shirts, plural? My shirts are good!”

“ Some of your shirts are good,” Keith corrects. “But not the elf one. If it would make you feel better, though, I could take my shirt off and you could touch me back.” Keith pulls his hands back and plucks at his own shirt instead. He wiggles on Shiro’s lap and there is no way he can’t feel Shiro’s hard-on pressing against his ass.

Keith is wholly distracting, but Shiro still puts a mental pin in the shirt debate and vows to revisit it. His shirts are good.

“Would you like that, big guy?” Keith presses in a tone that says he knows he’s won this round. He’s already pulled his shirt halfway up, and Shiro sees any potential victory disappear over the horizon.

“So much,” Shiro admits.

Keith smirks and strips his shirt off. The motion of it is slightly awkward with the inexperience of brand new limbs, but with an underlying fluidity that spells much future trouble for Shiro once Keith fully gets the hang of his body.

Keith nods at him expectantly. “Now you.”

Shiro’s sweater has barely hit the floor when Keith is slotting their mouths together, the space between their bodies evaporating. The sudden glut of skin contact is electrifying; it’s been a long while since Shiro has been touched like this and he’s certain that it never felt like this. It’s unexpectedly intense, pressed together from hip to chest—Shiro can’t even imagine how it must feel for Keith.

Similar, he guesses, going by the way Keith moans and crowds in impossibly closer like every molecule of space between their skin is an offense.

Keith’s arms slide around Shiro’s neck but don’t stay still for long, greedily mapping out the shape of his shoulders and arms. 

His approving hum vibrates against Shiro’s lips when he settles his hands in the tantalizing dip of Keith’s waist, reeling at how narrow it is. He could almost fit his hands the whole way around.

Keith is content with the new sensations of the skin contact and weight of Shiro’s hands on him for the next few minutes. After that he starts to squirm, listing harder into Shiro with little growly noises that grow in impatience, before finally pulling back with a frown.

“Touch me,” Keith demands with a huff. “Touch me how you want to touch me, not how you think you should because this is new for me. I trust you, and I know you know how to make me feel good, and I want you to. I want you to show me how good my body can feel.”

Shiro can’t imagine a world in which he could deny this lovely creature in his bed a single thing; in a smooth motion, he flips Keith over onto his back, caging him in with his body, and gets to work.

***

The next minutes are a blur of bared skin, shared breaths, and hungry, searching hands. Keith responds like a dream to every touch, with sweet moans and stuttered breaths. Fully naked, he’s fantasy given form—so perfectly Shiro’s type that he considers the unsettling possibility that Alfor somehow gained access to the search history on his personal devices, before quickly deciding he doesn’t actually want to know and purging the idea from his thoughts.

It’s not difficult to do, not with miles of skin to touch and kiss and lick to occupy him. He resolves to get his hands and mouth on every inch of it, from the tops of Keith’s ears to the tips of his fingers and toes. He’s gotta start somewhere, so he gives Keith’s eager mouth one last plundering kiss before sitting back and lifting one of his legs, pushing his knee toward his chest to press kisses to the knob of his ankle and the arch of his foot. Keith sighs at the feeling, his other leg falling open and putting himself on full display. 

“Baby,” Shiro groans when his eyes catch on the pink furl of Keith’s hole, and he finds himself adaptable and his plans very malleable indeed. Especially when he reaches out to brush a dry finger over it and Keith nearly goes into paroxysms, going tense all over as his cock kicks and leaks, a litany of “yes” and “please” spilling breathless from his lips.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Shiro hushes him, setting his foot down flat on the bed and leaning over him to procure a bottle of lube from his nightstand.

“Yes,” Keith hisses when he sees it, legs falling open wider. “Fuck, Shiro. Now, please, I want it.”

That’s enthusiastic consent enough for Shiro. He should maybe insist on taking things slow, getting Keith more accustomed to being touched at all before jumping so fast to this, but Keith is an adult—one who can make his own decisions, and who all but disintegrates Shiro’s better judgement.

Shiro is at least able to ignore the increasingly impatient look on Keith’s face for long enough to warm some lube on his fingers before falling to his burgeoning addiction to giving Keith whatever he wants.

He rubs a slick finger around Keith’s rim, watching enraptured as he tries to take in every little detail: the way Keith’s body, which had stiffened with the initial touch, slowly relaxes into the foreign feeling, the easy splay of his thighs, effortlessly flexible in a way Shiro himself has never been, his slackened mouth, the flutter of his half-lidded eyes, his steadily twitching cock and the irregular clench of his hole against Shiro’s fingertip.

One day Shiro is going to feel that clench against his tongue instead.

For now, though, Shiro tests the waters, nudging just the tip of his finger inside, not even up to the first knuckle. Keith clenches down hard with a breathless whine. Shiro doesn’t move, just lets Keith acclimate.

“How’s that feel?” Shiro asks, remembering the uncomfortable sting of the first time he had done this to himself with nothing but bad porn for guidance. “It’s ok if it feels strange but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“ Everything feels a little strange when your body’s just a few days old,” Keith laughs breathlessly. “Doesn’t hurt at all, though. I think- I think it’s good. I’m ready for more.”

Keith gasps and shudders when Shiro breaches him past the first knuckle, whispering “don’t stop, don’t stop,” like a mantra until Shiro’s finger is buried in him all the way.

“Good?” Shiro checks.

“So good,” Keith gasps. “Will you try moving?”

Shiro starts to gently thrust his finger, cock throbbing enviously at the tight hot squeeze of him.

“How’s that?” Shiro checks in after a few moments.

“Good, it’s good, I just—” he shifts his hips around, brows pulling in concentration. “I- I need… something, but I don’t—” He whines as Shiro’s finger slows to a stop. “No don’t- I didn’t mean- unnh!”

“Is that what you needed, baby?” Shiro coos, curling his finger and lightly rubbing over Keith’s prostate.

Keith is not listening. Keith is writhing, cock blurting precome onto his belly while his knees draw up and his toes curl.

“Oh- oh god,” Keith whimpers. “That feels so- I feel...feels like...I- I don’t know ,” he pants with rhythmless jerks of his hips. “It’s getting— unh stronger, in my belly but- but I don’t know, deeper than that? I’ve never felt...it’s so much, I can’t- I need- I don’t-” Keith cuts himself off with a long quaking moan.

It strikes Shiro suddenly that Keith is about to come and he doesn’t even know what’s happening because he’s never had an orgasm before. The thought is so heady he feels drunk with it.

“It’s ok, baby, I’ve got you. Just follow the feeling, don’t try to fight it. Your body knows what to do, just let it happen.”

He wants to take Keith in his mouth, feel the throb and pulse of him as he comes on Shiro’s tongue, but even more than that he wants the best view of Keith falling apart for the very first time. He’s tempted to just finger him to orgasm—Keith’s so gorgeously responsive he’s sure he could do it—but he’s worried that that might be a little too intense for a first time, and for now he’s more invested in keeping Keith comfortable.

He takes Keith’s cock in hand, smearing the mess of precome over his length before starting to stroke in time with the thrusting of his finger.

“Oh,” Keith gasps wildly, “oh oh oh Shiro please, I can’t- oh fuck, please, I- I- I- fuck!” Keith’s body locks up so hard Shiro is worried he’ll cramp, then with a wordless sob he starts to come, spilling more and more with each throb of his cock. In the part of his mind that’s not watching in awe and desperate arousal, Shiro is glad that he went with his instincts; there’s no way he would’ve been able to swallow all this without choking. 

He works Keith through it for longer than seems should be possible, until he’s dribbling out the last of it in a few weak spurts. It leaves him so splattered in come that it pools in his belly button and in the shallow divot between his pecs, some of it even sliding down his sides to puddle on the sheets.

Keith looks so fucked out, glassy-eyed when he blinks at Shiro and says in a voice gone scratchy, “Wow.”

“Yeah?” Shiro says, smiling softly, the desperate need for his own release shoved to the side in favor of the much more pressing matter of making sure Keith is comfortable and content. He starts to pull his finger out, but Keith makes a loud, unhappy noise and grabs onto Shiro’s wrist, keeping him in place.

“Shh ok, ok, I’m not moving,” Shiro gentles him. He wipes off his other hand on the already ruined sheets, then brushes Keith’s hair out of his eyes. “You ok, baby?”

“I’m good,” Keith says, still working on catching his breath, then amends, “Great, actually. Literally never better. Just want you to stay here for now.” He squeezes Shiro’s wrist again.

“Of course.” Shiro makes himself more comfortable, laying alongside Keith while keeping his hand still between his legs. “This ok?”

“Perfect.” Keith’s smile is brighter than the sun. “Kiss me?”

Shiro can’t help but grin back. “As much as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to move and I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Long, luxurious minutes pass of easy, tender kissing. Shiro’s arousal doesn’t dissipate, but settles to a pleasant hum beneath his skin. Slow and deep, the kisses become almost hypnotic, and Shiro doesn’t even realize how lost he was in it until Keith murmurs something against his lips that he doesn’t quite catch.

“Hm?” Shiro says, borderline somnolent. “What was that?”

“I asked if I could have two.”

“You can have anything you want,” Shiro promises dreamily. “Two what?”

Keith giggles at him. “Two fingers.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Actually if I can have anything I want, then after two fingers, maybe three, but preferably your cock.”

Shiro blinks stupidly. “Now?”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, big guy.”

Shiro frowns. “But you’ll be too sensitive. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Keith rejoins. “And I promise I’ll let you know if it doesn’t feel good.” He squeezes around Shiro’s finger and gives him a coquettish smile. “Please?”

Shiro groans. “Have I ever told you that you’re a little demon?”

Keith smirks. “It rings a faint bell.”

Shiro smiles helplessly and steals a short kiss.

He pulls out to get more lube, apologizing when Keith hisses.

He returns quickly and traces around Keith’s hole with more lube than is probably necessary. Everything in him demands him to ask if Keith is sure, but one look at Keith’s narrowed, knowing eyes has him thinking better of it, so he settles for, “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” Keith huffs, impatient but fond.

Two fingers is a tighter fit. Keith squirms a bit this time, hips shifting as he adjusts. “It’s good,” Keith assures Shiro before he can ask. “Just need a sec. It’s- I am a little sensitive.”

Shiro says, “Take all the time you need,” instead of I told you so.

Keith takes all the time he needs for about three seconds before demanding that Shiro start moving. After not nearly long enough, he asks Shiro to fuck him, then impatiently suffers Shiro to give him a third finger instead when he tells Keith absolutely not, ignoring his cock which thinks that fucking Keith is a great idea.

“Come on,” Keith whines when Shiro starts teasing his prostate again and his cock is somehow already more than half hard. “I’m ready. I want the real thing.”

“My fingers are real,” Shiro says innocently, pressing firmly on that little bundle of nerves with all three fingertips and smirking when it breaks Keith’s scowl by ripping a deep moan from him.

“You know what I mean,” Keith retorts, sounding slightly winded to Shiro’s satisfaction. Then because clearly no one has taught him the concept of playing fair, he spread his thighs wide and tightens hard on Shiro’s fingers, pouting up at him and saying, “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Shiro buries his face in the side of Keith’s neck and groans. “More than you know,” he admits. “But one of these days I’m going to keep you in bed and make you feel just how good fingering on its own can be.” When Keith continues to look unimpressed he adds, “Maybe I’ll show you how to finger me, too.”

That gets Keith’s attention. “You would let me do that?”

“Of course. There’s no one right way to have sex, and it doesn’t always have to include penetration. It doesn’t ever have to include penetration. There are plenty of people who don’t like it, and plenty of couples who don’t do it at all.”

Keith considers this. “We still can , though, right?”

Shiro has to laugh. “Remind me to include ‘focused’ and ‘goal-oriented’ when we build you a resume.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Listen to me, if we’re going to do this, you have to promise to talk to me, ok? No, don’t make that face at me, I’m serious. I need you to listen. I don’t mean to flatter myself but I could actually hurt you, and I would never forgive myself if I did. I have to be able to trust you that you’ll be honest with me about how it feels, ok? And it’s ok if you want to stop at any point for any reason. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Keith says, and Shiro is glad that he seems to understand how important this is. “Even though I’m not going to want to stop.”

Shiro accepts this as about as good as he could’ve hoped to get.

It’s a matter of a few seconds to pull his fingers out and slick up his cock which twitches happily to finally have some attention, and get a pillow under Keith’s back to make the angle easier.

He nudges his tip against Keith’s hole, already puffy and reddened from the previous stretching. “Ready?”

Keith doesn’t snark back this time, just says, “I’m ready,” and  looks up at him with eyes so wide and trusting that Shiro has to lean down to kiss him once before sitting back on his knees to line up properly.

“Deep breath in,” Shiro instructs. “Let it out and focus on relaxing. Good, one more, and I’m going to push on your next exhale.”

Keith’s chest rises and lowers, and Shiro presses in. It’s an effort just to get past the tight ring of muscle, and Shiro stops as soon as the head pops in. Keith is a hot vice around him, so tight it would almost hurt if his cock wasn’t already begging for release.

Keith sucks in a sharp breath at the first breach, eyes squeezing shut and breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

“Deep breaths, baby,” Shiro soothes. “Breathe through the stretch, follow me.” He takes one of Keith’s hands and lays it flat on his chest, letting him feel the in and out of Shiro’s steady breaths. “That’s right. You’re doing so good,” he says when Keith’s breathing has evened out some. “How does it feel?”

“It, um. It hurts a little,” Keith admits, then adds quickly, “but I don’t want to stop.”

Shiro gently squeezes the muscles of Keith’s trembling thighs, another point of contact to focus on. “That’s ok. Thank you for telling me. I’ll stay right here until you’re ready. I won’t move until you tell me.”

Keith nods and focuses on his breathing, clenching spasmodically around Shiro. It’s a torturous tease to his neglected cock, but Shiro wouldn’t budge an inch for the world.

“Ok,” Keith breathes, after what feels like an eternity but has probably been barely over a minute.

Shiro pours more lube directly onto himself to replenish the lube that’s gone a bit tacky, and eases forward another inch. Keith’s hands drop to clench in the sheets and he goes crushingly tight, grabbing onto one of Shiro’s hands and lacing their fingers together, squeezing hard. He’s already better at controlling his breathing and Shiro can feel him relaxing.

“That’s so good, baby, you’re doing amazing,” Shiro praises even as he notes with some concern that Keith’s erection is flagging.

It’s slow going from there, until Shiro gets about halfway in and Keith pushes a little against his chest. “It hurts,” he whispers in a small voice. “I- I think I need to stop. I’m sorry, I don’t think I can—”

“No, baby, shh, it’s ok. You did exactly what I wanted you to do. I’m so proud of you for being honest with me. I’m gonna pull out now, ok? Nice and slow.”

As soon as he’s pulled free he pulls Keith tight against his chest, uncaring of the drying mess that now squelches between them.

“I’m sorry,” Keith murmurs again. “I thought I could do it.” His breaths come a little shaky.

Shiro rubs a soothing hand up and down his back. “You have nothing to apologize for, you were perfect. Sometimes things just don’t work the way you expect. And we can come back to this later, or not. I meant what I said earlier, this is not the be all end all of sex. There’s so much more that I can’t wait to show you. But for now, let’s get cleaned up, yeah? We’ve made a mess of ourselves.”

Keith pulls back to frown at him. “But you haven’t…”

Shiro smiles and brushes Keith’s hair back. “There will be plenty of time for that later. You’re my first priority right now. And anything we do I’ll enjoy a lot more knowing that you’re clean and happy and comfortable.”

Showering turns out to be a fantastic idea. Keith lets Shiro wash him, groaning at the hot water and gushing about how this is so much better than the lab shower, not to mention the far superior company. Keith discovers that touching while wet is even better, and by the time Shiro has washed and conditioned Keith’s hair for him, Keith’s erection has returned full force.

Shiro figures now is as good a time as any to show Keith something new that’s almost guaranteed to be a hit. So he gets on his knees and swallows Keith down. Keith moans the whole way through and comes with a shout in about a minute, and they’ll eventually have to have a talk about warnings and etiquette, but for now Shiro gladly swallows as much as he can, pulling off when it becomes too much and stroking out the last of Keith’s orgasm, standing quickly and catching Keith round the waist before he falls over.

He wonders if this is an effect of the brand new body, or if Keith is always going to come this much. His cock throbs as he thinks that he can’t wait to find out.

Keith, jelly-kneed and leaning most of his weight against Shiro, demands that Shiro show Keith how to do that to him. His cock agrees mightily, especially when Keith sinks to his knees, blinking sweetly up at Shiro and waiting for guidance.

It’s not the most technically skilled blowjob Shiro has ever received (for obvious reasons), but he’s never had anyone so gorgeous and devilishly eager to please on their knees for him before which more than makes up for it. In the end, Shiro doesn’t end up lasting much longer than Keith had. He eases Keith off right before he comes, covering Keith’s hand on his cock with his own, using Keith’s hand to jerk himself off. He means to politely aim for Keith’s chest, but at the last second Keith tells him to come on his face, letting his mouth fall open with his tongue hanging out in a way that he must have seen in porn, and Shiro is too bowled over to do anything but obey.

Most of it gets on Keith’s cheeks and chin, but he lands a thick stripe right across Keith’s tongue, and Shiro is certain he’s never seen a more erotic sight. Keith gamely swallows it down when Shiro is finished, then pulls a disgruntled face.

“I thought come was supposed to taste good, ” he pouts.

Shiro bursts out laughing. Definitely porn. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Is that how mine tastes?”

Shiro shrugs. “Probably similar. The enjoyment of it isn’t really about the taste, it’s more knowing that you made your partner feel good that makes it good. I like to swallow, but lots of people don’t. Some people spit, and others don’t like it in their mouth at all. It’s all just personal preference and it’s all fine.”

“Huh,” Keith says, considering. “When you put it like that, I think I would like it. I like making you feel good.”

“I like making you feel good too,” Shiro says, instead of doing something horribly gauche like saying I love you right after an orgasm.

Shortly after, they dry off and get cozy, then collapse together on the couch. It’s still a little too early for dinner, and Keith insists he’s not hungry yet, so they decide on a nature documentary that looks interesting.

Shiro leans against one arm of the couch while Keith leans back against him, a warm, perfect weight. He looks adorable and sexy in nothing but a pair of Shiro’s pajama pants, cuffed at the ankles to let his bare feet poke out. It’s the smallest pair he could find, but even with the drawstring cinched tight they’re loose, and keep sliding distractingly low on Keith’s hips.

“We’ll go to the mall tomorrow and get you some of your own clothes,” Shiro promises.

“That’ll be good,” Keith answers, and Shiro doesn’t need to be able to see the teasing smile to know it’s there. “It’ll give you a chance to buy me underwear now that I actually need underwear.”

“Shut it you little punk,” Shiro laughs, giving Keith’s side a gentle pinch and making Keith swat at him. He’s still a little embarrassed from the time when Keith’s consciousness had still lived in Black Lion Free, and, when tasked with choosing a gift for Keith, Shiro had opted for underwear rather than the obviously correct choice of an ornate dagger.

“What?” Keith says innocently. “I thought it was cute that you were thinking about me in my underwear.”

Shiro splutters indignantly. “That is not— I was trying to make sure you had the necessities!”

“Whatever you say,” Keith drawls, yelping when Shiro pinches him again before his attention is drawn back to the screen. “Oh! Look, hippos! They’re my favorite!”

They lapse into an easy quiet as their focus gravitates to the documentary, occasionally commenting on the animals. Shiro tangles one of his hands with one of Keith’s, the other resting at the curve of his waist, casually left there from when Shiro had pinched him.

Keith sighs when Shiro slowly starts to move his hand in a slow sweeping motion from waist to hip.

“Feels good,” Keith murmurs, settling more heavily against Shiro and letting his head loll back onto his shoulder. Shiro doesn’t even think, just presses a line of kisses along his exposed neck. “Oh,” Keith gasps, squeezing hard on Shiro’s hand. “Keep- keep doing that.”

Shiro chuckles lowly. “Your wish is my command.”

He trails kisses down Keith’s neck and over the ball of his shoulder, lightly nipping him before kissing back up the same path to right behind Keith’s ear.

It feels decadent to be allowed to touch just for the sake of it, learning the feel of Keith’s body as Keith learns it as well. There’s nothing inherently sexual about the touch, confined mostly to his chest and belly or down the line of his arm, occasionally dipping low enough to squeeze his hip.

But just because Shiro isn’t trying to turn Keith on doesn’t mean he’s trying not to.

Keith’s hand starts to flex in Shiro’s grip, squeezing harder when Shiro’s fingers dip just beneath his waistband or when he sucks lightly at that soft space under the curve of Keith’s jaw. Shiro keeps kissing and touching like he doesn’t notice what it’s doing to Keith, basking both in the feel of Keith’s gorgeously responsive body revving up under his attention and the knowledge that Keith is letting him do this at all without demanding more.

Finally, when the documentary is over and Keith’s erection is straining unignorable at the fabric of his borrowed pants, Shiro takes pity.

“Want me to touch you, baby?” He murmurs into Keith’s ear, already starting to slide his hand into Keith’s pants.

“Yes,” Keith says, while incongruously gripping Shiro’s wrist and pulling it out of his pants. “But I want you to touch me while I sit on your cock.”

Shiro frowns, heart sinking. He thought they’d moved past it, but had he made Keith think he was disappointed after all? “Keith, baby, you really don’t have to—”

Keith huffs and climbs off of Shiro’s lap, turning to face him. With a tug to untie the drawstring, the pants fall and puddle at his feet. “Do I look like I think I have to?” he demands.

“No,” Shiro answers honestly, helplessly drinking in the sight and reminding himself why this is a bad idea. “But I don’t think—”

“Good,” Keith purrs, bending down into Shiro’s space to kiss him deeply. “Don’t think.”

It takes Shiro a moment to clear his head. “I don’t want to hurt you again,” he says quietly. “Nothing is worth that.”

Keith softens. “I promise I won’t let you hurt me. If I’m on top, I can control the pace easier, right? And if you let me focus on that, then you can focus on touching me other places and making me feel good. Can we at least try?” Keith’s pout is already unfairly persuasive, but then he says “please?” like that and really, how is Shiro supposed to say no?

“We can try,” Shiro concedes. “But not without lube. Let me just go and—”

“No need,” Keith interrupts and bends down to rustle through the discarded pants. He emerges with Shiro’s little travel bottle of lube which he deposits in Shiro’s palm.

Shiro stares at it, then at Keith. “You little minx,” he laughs. “You planned this.”

Keith shrugs, looking altogether too pleased with himself. “Maybe a little.”

Shiro shucks his own pants, his half-hard cock plumping up quickly with the thought that he’s going to be back inside Keith soon. He goes to pull Keith down onto his lap, but Keith turns first, straddling Shiro’s thighs backwards instead.

“Is like this ok?” Keith checks.

“Whatever you want, baby. I’ll use my fingers first and you just let me know when you’re ready, ok?”

Keith allows the prep for about as long as it takes for Shiro to spread an excess of lube around his rim and inside. One day, when he knows Keith’s limits better, Shiro really is going to keep him in bed and make him come over and over on nothing but his fingers.

But for now, Shiro pulls his fingers free and smears the excess over his cock, bending just for a moment to the temptation to stroke himself to the sight of Keith’s reddened hole, slick and shiny with lube once again and twitching with eagerness to get Shiro inside again.

Shiro guides Keith back with his clean hand on one hip, the other holding his cock steady.

“Ok,” Keith breathes when Shiro catches against his hole. “Here goes.”

There’s a long moment of pressure then Keith gasps as Shiro’s head breaches him. It’s just as tight and hot as the first time, and Shiro stifles a groan.

“Oh,” Keith sighs, shifting his hips and sinking down a bare fraction of an inch. “Ok. Ok, that’s- this is better.”

Shiro reaches around Keith to curl his hand around his cock, stroking him slow but firm. “How about now?”

“Oh,” Keith moans, rising up a little then sinking lower, taking another fraction more. “Fuck. That’s good, that’s so good, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Shiro murmurs, smoothing a hand up Keith’s side before holding onto his hip to steady him. “You’re doing so good, baby, take as much time as you need.”

It’s a slow descent, verging on glacial, Shiro stroking Keith’s cock and keeping up a constant stream of praise while Keith’s hips rise and fall, taking Shiro a little deeper each time. By the time Keith is seated fully in Shiro’s lap with his cock buried in him up to the hilt, they’re both panting hard and Keith is leaking profusely into Shiro’s palm.

“You did it, baby, you took me all the way in. How do you feel?”

“Full,” Keith manages, little shifts of his hips as he adjusts driving Shiro crazy. “Good full. I- I don’t think I’m ready to move yet though.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Shiro reassures him. “We can stay here as long as you want.”

Shiro is achingly hard, and it feels incredible to have his cock sheathed all the way inside this maddeningly tight heat.

He continues to stroke Keith’s cock, and with his other hand reaches around to cradle his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. Keith gasps, rippling around him. Shiro’s not sure Keith even realizes he’s doing it when he starts moving his hips, fucking himself into Shiro’s fist in tiny, jerking motions. The circles Keith’s hips make as he moves barely resemble anything close to what Shiro would consider ‘fucking’, but the hot squeeze of him massaging Shiro’s cock has him groaning.

“Does it- does it feel good for you too?” Keith asks.

“You have no idea, baby,” Shiro grunts, doing his best to hold still and let Keith take what he needs.

Keith never lifts more than an inch off Shiro’s cock but his movements become more fluid, the movement of his hips more rolling and less stuttering. His leaking cock makes filthy wet sounds as it pushes through Shiro’s fist over and over.

It’s not long before Keith starts fucking harder into Shiro’s fist and clenching on his cock. “Feel so good,” he whimpers. “I- I think I’m getting close.”

This is unlike any sex Shiro has ever had, and he’s amazed to find that he’s getting close as well, so soon after coming.

Keith moans loudly when Shiro squeezes his balls more firmly as they start to draw up and tighten. Keith’s hands flutter at his sides, sometimes digging into his own thighs, or Shiro’s. “Try playing with your nipples,” Shiro instructs. “Just touch at first to see if you like it, then you can try rolling them between your fingers.”

Keith obeys instantly, letting out a pleased sigh at the sensation. A few seconds later he goes impossibly tight, hissing a sharp breath in then exhaling on a long whine as the motion of his hips starts to become erratic.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he whimpers, like Shiro would dream of it.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Shiro croons. “Go on, take what you need.”

Shiro can look over Keith’s shoulder and see him pinching, rolling, and tugging on his nipples, harder than he himself would’ve dared. “I bet you’d like it if I sucked on your nipples too, wouldn’t you?” he murmurs. “I wonder if you could come just from that, I bet they’re so sensitive aren’t they?”

Keith moans in response, movements turning frantic.

“That’s right, just like that,” Shiro groans. “Good boy.”

A few more jerky thrusts of his hips later, Keith shudders and comes, throbbing and fucking his spend into Shiro’s fist. He’s so tight, massaging the full length of Shiro’s cock and Shiro is so close.

Keith will be done soon—Shiro can ignore his own needs long enough to let Keith settle for a moment while he gentles him down from his peak, then give him some well-earned praise and ease him off his cock. He thinks Keith would probably let him come on his ass if he asked.

It’s a nice thought, except it gets thrown off at the very first step when Keith fails to settle, gripping Shiro’s hand tight in both of his and continuing to rock into it.

“Wait, wait, don’t stop,” Keith gasps even though Shiro hasn’t moved, too surprised to do anything besides let Keith take his pleasure. “I- oh god- I’m gonna come again, fuck please Shiro I need- I need-”

“Take whatever you need, baby, I’ve got you, that’s it. You’re doing so good, so perfect for me.” Shiro is dimly impressed with himself that he manages to sound even slightly coherent with Keith about to come on his cock for the second time in as many minutes and his orgasm so close he can taste it.

Keith lets go of Shiro’s hand to play with his chest again, pinching and rolling his nipples before he twists them viciously, hips jolting forward and clenching so hard around Shiro that it nearly hurts.

“Close, close, close,” he chants, frantic, and then before Shiro can even react, Keith is wailing, pulsing and coming, and Shiro is hanging on by a thread.

“Baby,” he gasps. “I need to- I’m gonna, can I—?

“In me, in me,” Keith moans, and that’s all the permission Shiro can bear to wait for. His hips grind up, outside of his control, and he wraps an arm tight around Keith’s waist holding him in place as he empties himself in deep, throbbing pulses as Keith clenches around him.

When the only sound in the room is their heaving breaths, Keith slumps back against Shiro. “Oh my god,” he pants.

Shiro laughs incredulously. “That was amazing. How are you feeling?”

“A little wobbly,” Keith admits. “But, like, so good. And a little sticky. You?”

“About the same,” Shiro laughs. “Since you liked the shower so much, why don’t we wipe you down and see how you feel about baths?”

“I like the sound of that,” Keith says. “And then afterwards maybe we can see if I actually can come just from having my nipples played with.”

“I’ve created a monster.” Shiro laughs again and presses a smattering of kisses into Keith’s hair. “You’re really going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

“Two handfuls, probably,” Keith says solemnly. “Think you can handle it?”

Shiro grins. “The Red Paladin route is the hardest, but I think I’m up for the challenge.”