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It is the last night of the summit. One banquet, then closing negotiations tomorrow morning, and after that, Shiro and the crew of the Atlas are free for four whole quintants of uninterrupted shore leave. All he has to do is get through a few more rounds of diplomacy and then he’s free to catch up with the Paladins, and give Keith all the attention he deserves.
It’s a good thing that Shiro can do diplomacy in his sleep. He is standing with Allura and a group of Tieflings, tall humanoid aliens who all remind him of Acxa, if Acxa was bluer and had horns curling backwards over her ears.
The Tieflings are, to put it mildly, being stubborn. Which is to say that, so far, they have been aggressively uninterested in joining the Coalition. Shiro would like to say he doesn’t care either way whether they join or not, but given that their sector is rich in quintessence, it’s important that the Coalition be able to protect them from Empire remnants.
Allura, bless her, is the epitome of grace and poise as she tries, for the fifth time, to explain to the Tiefling Council why joining the Coalition is in their best interest. Shiro, beside her, is quietly drinking champagne and wishing he had the freedom to roll his eyes.
It’s a very good thing, Shiro distantly notes, that he hadn’t been speaking at that moment, because if he had, it would have been very bad and embarrassing when he stopped talking abruptly due to his mouth having fallen open. As it is, there is just a quiet crack as Shiro snaps the stem of his champagne glass.
He couldn’t care less. Because across the room, having just walked into the banquet hall, is Keith dressed in a suit that is currently making Shiro’s mouth water.
It is new and blue and beautiful, with a high collar and accents of periwinkle and indigo. There is some kind of furred capelet over top, secured to one shoulder by a belt across his chest.
Shiro’s eyes drift downward in a slow slide. The slacks are black and deftly tailored, moulding to Keith’s long legs and strong thighs, cinched to his tiny waist by a belted half skirt. The picture is nothing less than breathtaking. Shiro can see the violet of his eyes even from here.
His hair is tied up in a purple ribbon! Shiro is going to die.
He moves to walk in that direction, his brain completely taken over by thoughts of Keith and what it will feel like to wrap his hands around that narrow waist, to kiss those pretty lips, to tug that little ribbon.
But he feels nails against his wrist, and he looks down to find that Allura has deftly gripped his arm. When he meets her eyes, she is smiling politely in a way that says, If you leave, I will make your life extremely difficult.
Shiro bites the inside of his lip and shoots her an equally polite smile that says, Respectfully, I despise you right now.
Allura sends him a knowing nod before turning back to the Tieflings, leaving Shiro to seethe internally. He’s fairly certain he’s pouting.
He keeps telling himself that patience yields focus, but how is he supposed to be patient when he hasn’t seen Keith in three movements and that new uniform makes him look like Shiro’s personal knight in shining armor?
Mentally shaking himself, Shiro forces his attention onto the conversation enough to minimally participate, his eyes never straying far from Keith. The last Shiro saw of him, he was catching up with Acxa in the corner, a small frown between his eyebrows as he listened to her briefing, likely concerned with the lack of progress.
But when Shiro looks to find him next, he’s no longer with Acxa, but instead is standing alone with the Tiefling Prince Rullut of Tiord.
Shiro watches as the Prince smiles at Keith. Keith says something and then smirks in return. Then the Prince leans forward and places his three-fingered hand on Keith’s elbow.
Had he been holding one, Shiro would have broken a second glass of champagne at this display. He knows he looks petulant, and does his best to smooth his features as Keith, now a rather graceful diplomat, casually gestures to the refreshment table, thereby pivoting away from the offending hand in a way that doesn’t stave off further conversation.
Shiro is proud to see it and mentally shakes himself for his own failings. Keep it together, Shirogane. You’re at work. Do your job.
It helps when Keith and the Prince move out of Shiro’s sightline. Shiro still wants to look for Keith, of course, but it would be rather awkward in his current position, and Shiro’s not that desperate. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he consciously unclenches his fist.
-
The evening drags as Allura flits from group to group trying to woo the Tieflings. Her attention is always on her quarry, and yet somehow she is still too sharp to allow Shiro to slip away.
Shiro is nodding in response to one of the Tieflings in their new group, and about to speak when he catches sight of Keith again and freezes.
He’s leaning against the wall in that casual stance that Shiro finds so lovely, and yet he can’t even appreciate it because the Prince is beside him, leaning into Keith’s space with a flirtatious smile.
Shiro has had enough.
He’s about to march over there, Allura be damned, when Pidge swoops into their circle, declares, “I need you,” and then tosses a belated, “Excuse me,” over her shoulder as she drags Shiro away by the wrist.
Shiro, shocked and annoyed, goes willingly, until Pidge stops them near the balcony doors on the far side of the room. He can no longer see Keith.
He turns to Pidge for an explanation when she says curtly, “Shiro, your look could kill. Calm down.”
She isn’t wrong and Shiro feels a little ashamed, though not enough to completely quench his anger. “Pidge,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That Prince is coming onto Keith.”
Pidge shoots him an unimpressed look. “Keith can handle himself, Shiro. And, in case you’ve forgotten, he’s madly in love with you.”
Shiro sighs, shoulders drooping. “I know,” he says. “I just miss him, and he’s over there looking so pretty, and that damned Prince who won’t join the Coalition is flirting with him, and all I want to do is leave this party so I can kiss him and give him the welcome-back he deserves.”
“First of all, ew,” says Pidge, adjusting her glasses. “Second of all, did you ever think that this Prince might end up joining the Coalition precisely because he thinks Keith is hot?”
Shiro squints, affronted. He’s about to retort, but Pidge beats him to it.
“Fully four planets have already joined the Coalition because their representatives think you’re hot. And Keith and Allura have two a piece.”
Shiro opens his mouth to say, What the hell Pidge, when Pidge says, “Matt and I have been keeping a tally on reasons various planets have joined the Coalition. You’d be surprised at how many are with us just because we have eye candy.”
Shiro raises a brow. “So, you’re telling me you think this Prince Ratface-“
“Rullut.”
“-Might join the Coalition because he thinks Keith is hot?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” says Pidge. “Now put your big boy Admiral pants on and suck it up. I’ve seen Keith swallow down this jealous shit before, so you can too.”
Shiro is honestly insulted, but, thoroughly chastised, he can admit that she is correct. It’s Pidge, so she usually is.
Shiro sighs again. “Fine.” Then he stands up straight, squares his shoulders, and pastes a charming smile on his face. “Admiral Shirogane, at your service,” he says. The subtext is, I hate you.
Pidge smiles. “You love me. Good to have you back, Admiral.”
-
Shiro is pressed and polished and perfect the rest of the night. Allura finally deigns to let him out of her sight, and the line of people wanting to talk to Shiro does not cease. If Shiro catches sight of Keith and the Prince in the background, he looks away.
And finally, after what feels like years, it’s over. He and Allura give their speech, one last attempt at getting the Tieflings to see sense before closing negotiations tomorrow. And then the aliens are making their goodbyes. There’s an endless line of handshakes for Shiro. He unwillingly catches sight of the Prince kissing the back of Keith’s gloved hand as he exits. Shiro bites his cheek.
But at last, the remaining people trickle away, and Shiro, now free to search as he pleases, finds Keith ducking out one of the doors to the balcony. He’s probably checking for stragglers, or in Keith’s mind, assassins. But Shiro can’t wait any longer. He’s been patient. He’s been good. He did the pomp and circumstance, and now all he wants is to kiss his boyfriend and take him to bed.
Shiro marches after him, and he hears Pidge call, “Go get him, tiger.” He doesn’t bother to turn around, but gives her a short wave over his shoulder.
And then he’s outside, the damp and fragrant air washing over him from the gardens below. The sky has that just-after-dusk quality where the shade is darkest blue but it’s still light enough to see.
And leaning against the pale balustrade is Keith, face tilted up to the sky. Shiro’s boots make a sound on the stones and Keith turns. Then his face lights up in a beautiful smile as he moves to face Shiro fully.
Shiro is already there. He wraps his hands around Keith’s waist, pushes him back against the railing, and kisses him. He feels desperate and needy, and he immediately licks into Keith’s mouth. Keith melts against him, and Shiro can feel him purring where their chests are pressed together.
Keith breaks the kiss to say, “Hi, sweetheart,” but Shiro is already kissing down his neck, sucking a bruise onto the front of his throat where it’s visible between the flaps of the high collar. “Mine,” he growls, his teeth against Keith’s neck.
Keith laughs as he arches into Shiro, moving his hands to ruck up Shiro’s jacket and slipping beneath to find the skin of his lower back. “Eager, are we? Did you miss me?” he teases.
Shiro raises his head, brushing his nose against Keith’s as he meets his lovely eyes. “So much, baby,” he whispers. “I thought about you every day. I thought about you all night tonight. You look so beautiful and all I wanted was to go to you and kiss you, but you were with that Prince,” Shiro nearly spits the name, “and Pidge and Allura said I wasn’t allowed. But baby, I missed you so much.”
Keith’s smile is wobbly and his gaze is soft and open. “Sap,” he croaks, reaching up to caress Shiro’s cheek. “I missed you, too.”
Shiro feels something inside him loosen at the words. His hands tighten around Keith’s waist. “I want to show you how much I missed you, baby. Can I do that?”
Keith smiles at him, looking endlessly charmed. “Of course, Shiro,” he says. “Show me.”
It’s all the permission Shiro needs. He snakes one hand fully around Keith’s waist and reaches down with the other. Then, in one smooth motion, he hoists Keith up into his arms in a bridal carry. Keith laughs, surprised and fond, and a little giddy. “So strong, Takashi,” he says, smirking.
Shiro smirks back. “Oh, I’ll show you how strong I am, baby.” Then he begins to walk, taking them down the stairs and deep into the lovely, empty garden.
It’s like something out of a fairytale with the indigo sky and honest-to-god faelights floating in the air like stars. The garden blooms with purple and silver night-blossoms, and the air is cool and sweet. If Keith was a place, Shiro thinks, this would be it. Beautiful, but secret, blooming for only a chosen few.
Shiro wants to take him everywhere, to show him the whole lovely garden. But more than that, Shiro just wants to kiss him, so he carries him to his favorite part of the garden - a clearing, empty but for a bubbling fountain carved with what look to Shiro like roses.
He kneels down on the mossy ground, soft as a feather bed, sets Keith down gently, and moves to cover him with his body.
Keith opens to him willingly as always, as ever, making a cradle of his body for Shiro to lie against. Shiro’s hands caress up his legs, his torso, and Keith hums into his mouth as they kiss and nip and suck, wrapping so close around each other Shiro thinks they might fuse into one person.
Keith’s hand is rubbing the back of Shiro’s skull, nails teasing on the sensitive skin, and the other hand is on his back, caressing his spine beneath his jacket. His legs are wrapped tight around Shiro’s waist, and Shiro’s hand grips one of them, hoisting him up by the thigh so he can grind their hips together. His other hand is fumbling around Keith’s torso, half in a caress, half to search for some kind of zipper or opening so he can get his hands on Keith’s skin.
Keith breaks the kiss to pant against his mouth, still grinding his body against Shiro’s in a sinful slide. “It opens in the back,” Keith says, husky sweet. “And the pants are standard. Just take the belt off. Opening’s on the side.”
Shiro groans against Keith’s mouth at that. “Baby,” he whines. “That means I have to let go of you.”
Keith smirks and says, “I can help with that.” Then he places a palm flat against Shiro’s chest and pushes, sitting up as Shiro does. Before he knows it, he’s sitting on his calves and Keith is in his lap, kissing him just as deeply as before, his hands deftly opening and sliding inside Shiro’s jacket, smoothing up Shiro's torso and squeezing his pecs.
Shiro groans, arching into Keith’s touch. The way Keith moves is incredible and it never fails to turn him on. He places one hand on Keith’s hip, resuming their grinding from earlier, and the other he places on Keith’s nape, quickly finding the catch and undoing the suit. It peels open like a flower, and Shiro takes a moment to thank the stars for the Marmora and their gift with uniform design.
Shiro grips Keith’s face and breaks the kiss, guiding Keith’s hands away from his body and forcing him to lean back as Shiro drags the suit from his chest and arms, exposing the gorgeous lines of Keith’s torso.
He’s glowing with a light layer of sweat, and his abs flex as he sucks in breath. His cheeks and mouth are pink from kissing, and his little bun has almost fallen out, the purple ribbon trailing over his shoulder. He’s the most beautiful creature in the entire universe and he wants Shiro. Shiro is the luckiest man alive.
“Beautiful,” Shiro breathes.
Keith smiles at him and says, “My turn.” And then his graceful hands and nimble mouth are on Shiro’s chest, slipping the jacket from his shoulders and pulling the tank top over his head, kissing the skin that is revealed.
Shiro shivers at the gentle kisses, and at the wetness left to dry in the cool air in the wake of Keith’s mouth. He runs his hands up Keith’s sides, hovering over the join where skin meets fabric. The pants are high-waisted and cinched to Keith’s waist, and Shiro is obsessed. He’d like to stop and admire, really, but more than that, he just wants Keith naked, so he unbuckles the belt and slides it off, and then he tugs the pants open.
He moves to lay Keith back down on the moss, but not before Keith’s hands have Shiro’s pants open too. Then they tumble down to the ground together, their pants and boots thrown somewhere to worry about later.
Now, it is only them, just Shiro and Keith, skin to skin, wrapped up in the feeling and the love of each other. It has been so long since Shiro has tasted Keith’s skin, and he tastes it now, kissing down Keith’s neck and chest and leaving a constellation of bruises, some just for them, and some of which will be perfectly visible tomorrow above Keith’s collar.
Keith moves against him, pressing their chests together and making little jerks and gasps as Shiro runs his lips and tongue and teeth over Keith’s sensitive skin. Shiro melts into it, intoxicated, drunk on Keith, on his lithe curves and the way he feels in Shiro’s arms; on the unbreakable love burning between them.
He kisses his collarbones, the scars on his arms, the heaving planes of his abdomen, his long, beautiful legs, and all the while Keith is gasping beneath him, “Shiro, Shiro, Shiro.”
If Shiro could purr like Keith can, he’d be doing it now at the slow-moving heat and bone-deep pleasure he feels at hearing his name in Keith’s mouth and Keith’s body writhing against him.
Shiro brings one of Keith’s legs up and drapes it over his shoulder, kissing the inside of his knee. The tenderness of the caress makes Keith sob.
Shiro looks down at Keith and marvels at how wrecked he is, just from this, just from kissing. His face and chest are flushed, and his breath comes in little, open-mouthed pants. His eyes are glassy and glowing gold in the darkness, and that ribbon is just a few strands away from falling out completely. Shiro would do absolutely anything for him.
He leans forward, pushing Keith’s leg up so that his knee rests against his chest. Keith moans at the stretch, and Shiro locks eyes with him as he does the same with the other leg, gripping it and draping it over his shoulder. Keith’s eyelashes flutter and he whispers, “Shiro.”
Shiro smiles at him so tenderly. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he vows. Then he leans forward and licks over Keith’s hole.
Keith’s entire body jerks as he moans, and his legs flex where they rest over Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro just tightens his hands on Keith’s thighs and does it again, and again, tasting him and caressing him with his tongue.
He falls into a rhythm, Keith trembling and mewling beneath him as Shiro licks into his body. Shiro licks Keith like he was born to do it, and soon Keith is crying out and bucking against his face.
Shiro pulls off with a wet sound and grins down at Keith. “Don’t come yet, baby,” he says. “I still want to fuck you.”
Keith groans at that, lashes fluttering. “Fuck yes. Yes,” he chokes out, voice nearly a growl.
“Hold your leg, sweetheart,” Shiro says, letting go and leaning forward so that his face is hovering above Keith’s. This close, he can see the tiny teardrops clinging to Keith’s lower lashes from crying out for Shiro’s tongue. He’s so close that he might come before Shiro can get inside him. But that’s alright. Keith’s got a very fast recovery time and this wouldn’t be the first instance where Shiro makes him come twice in a row.
Bringing his prosthetic up to Keith’s face, he places two fingers over Keith’s mouth. “Slick them up for me, baby,” he orders.
Keith’s eyes roll back and his lips fall open on a moan. Shiro takes the opportunity to slide his fingers into Keith’s mouth. “That’s it,” he croons. “Get them nice and wet.”
Keith begins to purr and closes his lips around Shiro, licking around and between his fingers. Shiro starts pumping them in and out, slowly, and Keith’s eyelashes flutter as he tries to keep them open.
Shiro’s arousal is demanding now, encompassing his every thought. If Keith touched him, he’d come in a second. Thankfully, Keith’s hands are occupied.
His fingers now sufficiently wet, Shiro slips them from Keith’s mouth and then spits on them for good measure, making Keith twitch again. If he doesn’t get inside Keith soon, one or both of them is going to come. But they only have to wait a little longer, and when Shiro slips a finger inside, Keith’s prepared, already relaxed and loose from Shiro’s tongue. It goes in easily so Shiro doesn’t waste time, sliding the second finger in beside it.
There’s definitely a stretch now, but as he watches Keith’s face for any sign of discomfort, Keith moans, bearing his neck to Shiro. Shiro leans down and bites it at the same time that he pumps his fingers inside Keith.
Keith clenches around him and lets out a long, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck, Shiro, yes.”
Shiro gentles the sting of his teeth with his tongue, and begins to move his fingers in and out of Keith in earnest, stretching and massaging as Keith purrs and writhes, his throat vibrating beneath Shiro’s lips. It’s everything, and Shiro growls against Keith’s throat.
Keith grunts, clenching around him and then he’s chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me, Shiro, fuuuuuck.”
Even if Shiro wanted to make him wait, he couldn’t. “Yes,” he gasps, slipping his fingers from Keith. “Yes, fuck yes, Keith.”
And it’s so easy. With Keith pliant beneath him, still holding his trembling leg, the other still draped over Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro rises onto his knees, lines up, and sinks inside.
Keith’s moan is a long, punched out sound, graveled with a purr, and it’s wholly erotic as Shiro sinks into the tight heat of his body. It’s so fucking good and Shiro groans his pleasure, dropping his forehead against Keith’s and panting into his mouth as he bottoms out.
Keith presses up and into him, his legs and arms wrapping around his body and pulling Shiro as close as he can get him. It drags Shiro even further inside and they both moan at the depth. And then Keith whispers, “Shiro, make me come on your cock.”
At that, Shiro’s last thread of control snaps. “Baby, I’m gonna fuck you until you cry.”
And then he begins to move, rolling his hips into Keith’s in long, slow thrusts. Keith writhes against him, trying to make him go faster, but Shiro is having none of it, and he grabs Keith’s leg from around his waist, draping it over his shoulder to match the other and sinking deep.
Keith purrs at the new angle, tossing his head back as his eyes slip shut in pleasure. Shiro reaches forward and grabs his chin, forcing his gaze to meet Shiro’s again. Keith’s eyes open in violet and gold and Shiro says, “I want to see you. I want you to see me. Keep your eyes open. You’re with me. You’re mine.”
Keith keens at the words, and Shiro feels his heart squeeze. Even lost to pleasure, Keith is still so earnest as he says, “Yours.”
Shiro’s hips stutter hard into Keith, and Keith shouts at the feeling. Then his eyes go wicked, his mouth slanting in a dangerous line as he says in a voice that is gravel and honey, “Oh, you like that. You like that I’m yours and no one else’s. You love knowing that the only person who can do this to me is you.”
Shiro doesn’t even try to stop the hard thrust of his hips that elicits, and Keith smiles into his moan.
“Yes, baby, yes, mine,” Shiro sighs, rolling his hips hard into Keith. “You’re so good. So fucking good. So pretty. So gorgeous. All mine.”
Shiro leans forward, bending Keith in half as he wraps his hands around Keith’s hips so that they come together with enough force that their thighs make a loud slapping noise. Keith clenches hard around him and lets out a long, loud moan. If there’s anyone else in the garden, they can definitely hear this. Shiro finds he doesn’t care. Tears are leaking from Keith’s eyes again, and he’s so damn beautiful, and Shiro wants to keep him for the rest of his life.
Keith pants, words punctuated by small breathy moans as he says, “What’s it like, fucking me in the middle of a garden on a work trip where anyone could see us? Would you like that? Someone walking through the garden only to find us like this? The Black Paladin getting bent in half and railed by the Admiral of the Atlas? They’d see you claiming me and know that nobody else can have me. I’m yours. Only yours, Takashi.”
Shiro’s eyes roll back into his head. The sounds they’re making are obscene, and Keith’s talking like a phone sex operator, and Shiro’s hands are clenched so tight around Keith’s waist he thinks he’ll have bruises in the morning. It’s too much. It’s everything. He wraps a hand around Keith’s cock and whispers, “You’re mine. All mine. Come for me, Keith.”
Keith gasps, and in two strokes timed with his thrusts, Keith is coming around Shiro, clenching rhythmically as Shiro continues to fuck into his body. Keith lets out a broken moan as his lashes flutter, the sound stuttering out of him in time with Shiro’s movements. It’s all Shiro needs. He’s been ready for a long time.
He thrusts in deep, and then he’s coming too, pumping his hips and emptying himself inside Keith. It’s a long, incredible orgasm, and he moans Keith’s name through all of it before finally collapsing on top of Keith, letting his legs drop from his shoulders and pressing his face into Keith’s neck. Keith’s arms wrap around him and they stay like that for long minutes, chests heaving against each other, sweat cooling in the damp air.
When Shiro at last manages to lift his head, Keith is staring at him with blissed out eyes and a satisfied expression. Shiro hadn’t even noticed Keith was purring again until he moved away from him. He immediately drops his head back down to listen, but keeps his face turned toward Keith. “How do you feel, baby?” he asks.
Keith smiles. “Fucking amazing. You’re amazing.”
Shiro feels himself blush. “Glad I can make you feel good, sweetheart.”
Keith shakes his head fondly. “God, I love fucking you at work.”
Shiro lets out a surprised laugh before reaching up to poke Keith’s cheek. “You unprofessional gremlin,” he says.
Keith cackles so hard it takes him a moment to compose himself enough to reply. Then he says, “Unprofessional Gremlin is my middle name. I need Pidge to make me a business card. Keith Kogane, Black Paladin, Blade of Marmora, Unprofessional Gremlin.”
“Ew,” Shiro says, offended. “Don’t talk about Pidge while I’m literally inside you.”
Keith clenches around him again, smiling. “No problem, Shiro. You just gave me the fucking of my life. You can have anything.”
Shiro lifts his head again and smiles so fondly at Keith he feels his eyes crinkle. “Well,” he says, “that’s good, because all I want is you.”
“You have me,” says Keith. “Always.”