Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shiro doesn’t remember how his life came to this. Not exactly, anyway. Disillusionment comes with the package, with the gift of life, and the whole point is to find what lights his soul on fire once more. 

He has to admit he’s exhausted the cycle. He’s not even in his forties yet, and he’s grown out of it all. Status, fame, money, being among the elites, breaking record after record—none of that provides him the fulfillment his heart craves. 

He has simultaneously everything any human can want and nothing at all. 

But then a fateful encounter at his local pub gives him the refreshing change of pace he hoped for—across the far right end of the bar sits the most stunning man he’s ever seen in his humble 37 years. 

While the man can’t be any younger than his early thirties himself, he maintains himself well. Clearly takes pride in looking after himself—he’s rooted in his ability to keep himself afloat. 

Before the inevitable highs and lows of life took a slight toll on his physique, Shiro himself enjoyed daily workouts and clean, while eating, maintaining a pristine profile of health—standard given at that time, he may die regardless. He let himself go a little bit after his treatment was ultimately successful, and he isn’t going to blame himself. It takes a long time to be happy, to be truly healthy, so of course he isn’t. But now he wants happiness again. 

And now he may have a reason to care a little more again. 

“Excuse me,” he calls for the bartender’s attention. “Can you put that lovely man’s orders under my tab?” 

The man behind the counter nods as he processes aforementioned request. “He’s a regular. He’ll appreciate that.” 

Piquing his interest, Shiro gestures the bartender to come closer: “Any interesting background?”

He shrugs. “Not much of one for conversation. He’s some journalist and graphic designer. He works at a fancy social media company.”

“He doesn’t talk to anyone yet you gathered enough information.”

“My wife’s a master at Google Search, and I let curiosity get the better of me.”

Shiro snickers, “And I still don’t have a name.”

“Why not leave that for a proper introduction?” The bartender gestures to the man in question sauntering over. 

“Lance, who covered my drinks? I came up to pay—.”

‘Lance’ swipes Shiro’s empty mug from the counter and begins wiping it down before pivoting on his heel to another direction, likely to another customer. 

“—This beautiful gentleman right here! You two have a blessed rest of your evening!”

And with that, he bolts away, leaving them both vulnerable to a round of awkward silence. 

Then Beautiful Boy breaks the ice. 

“This your way to make a grand gesture and show off, or are you trying to hit on me?” 

This guy’s cut-throat. Shiro coughs and slicks his hair back, grinning and showing off those pearly whites he meticulously maintains. 

“Maybe a mix of both. Why, a bit too bold for you?”

“Just not used to it,” he quips. “I tend to have an expression that reads ‘fuck off’ instead of ‘fuck me,’ which brings me to the million dollar question of the night, who the fuck are you?”

“Shiro,” he answers, offering his hand. “And you?”

“It’s Keith.”

Keith. Rolls off his tongue nicely. Shiro’s eyes venture southward. 

He has other ideas of what else his tongue will roll off of nicely… 

“Hey, Shiro. Up here. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Shiro doesn’t lose his composure and meets stunning amethyst eyes, threatening to suck him in like a black hole. Keith doesn’t even accept his handshake, and Shiro still has his hand held in the air for a few more lingering seconds until he ultimately retracts it. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Well you haven’t been lucky enough for a first date, so what makes you think you’ll get lucky tonight with me in bed?”

“We can go slow,” Shiro winks, “I’m not expecting anything, except maybe starting with knowing about you.

“You can have fun figuring that out. Thanks for the drinks.” 

Keith exits the bar. Not looking back. Not once. 

Shiro can’t believe that—the way he just brushes him off, clearly uninterested, and that makes Shiro grow more curious about him and his life. It may serve him the redirection his life sorely needs, and he can start from gathering more intel from Lance’s FBI agent for a wife. 

Speak of the Devil, Lance creeps back to his spot at the bar. “Get his number?”

“Nope. Not even his last name.”

“Ouch, buddy. Need to down another shot to get over that painful sting of rejection?”

“No,” he replies, “But clue me in on at least his last name, and I’ll be in debt to you.”

“Sorry, that’s not what I’m paid to do. I’m sure you understand that clearly, ey, muchacho?”

“Crystal,” he answers as he prepares to leave, too, in hopes of catching Keith before he slips out from his fingers. 

If not, then the Internet’s become an integral part of world communication for a reason (among many other ventures)—he can navigate, he can find out the next move, and he is going to make Keith an integral part of his life. 

He’s found someone who lights his soul on fire. 

Chapter Text

“What the hell was yesterday, Lance?”

Keith’s fingers danced along his keyboard brewing up an article as Lance’s brewing him a fresh cup of Joe to start his long day here. While his eyes are glued to the screen, he flashes his card the minute Lance sets the piping hot cup onto the coaster. Keith welcomes the steam floating toward his direction and the fresh scent of brewed coffee tickling his nostrils. 

Lance accepts and takes care of the expenses, and even Keith notices the confused look on his face as he opens a new window at the corner of his eye.

“Says here your expenses for the entire day are covered,” he announces. He turns over and flashes the note attached to the name.

I’m taking care of that beautiful boy from now on.

--Shirogane, T. 

Keith’s jaw hangs open, but immediately melds back into his usual stoic expression. 

“The guy from yesterday dropped by again?”

“I dunno, maybe sometime before this shift? This is a 24-hour pub, man. I thought it was a one-time deal.”

“Thanks for looking out for me yesterday.”

“Dude, that guy gave me weird vibes. Don’t sweat it.”

“Are you going to take it off?” Keith inquires. “I don’t want to feel like I owe this guy something.”

“You don’t, man! Just because he does gestures like these, or anyone for that matter, doesn’t mean you owe them shit. Kindness isn’t transactional.”

Keith smiles. “Allura really did help you grow up.”

“Hey! I was mature in our college years too.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway, I entered your card number instead and—what the fuck?”

Keith’s expression faltered. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“Maybe it’s a glitch, but it’s just not allowing me to take off his card for your orders.”

“And that’s… possible?”

“How the heck should I know? Anything tech is up Pidge’s or Hunk’s alley, not mine! Our system could just have some flaws and just needs to be upgraded.”

“Well this is unfortunate. Hey, free food and drinks anyway from some stranger who gives off serious gas station creeper vibes despite being actually pretty and—eh?” 

“What? What now?” 

“Is the “T” for Takashi, or something?” 

“Yeah.”

“He owns one of the companies I write for. How the hell did I not piece that together?”

Lance’s eyes doubles in size.

“Dios Mio! Is this world that small? Do you think he already knew who you were?”

“He asked for my name, so I don’t think so. I’m one of millions who works for the guy. How can he know every single one of us?”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I mean, I can’t quit so abruptly over some guy. I can quit sometime later?”

“But my man! You’re working for Technicolor Lions! The biggest branch among them is The Black Lion, and you earn some serious cash. I mean, I can make sure I keep this guy out of your hair to the best of my abilities, but what if you can get more benefits if he finds out you work for him?”

“Unlike you, I’m not motivated by money.”

“Literally everyone and their mother is motivated by money. It’s essential for survival in a capitalist society, Keith.”

“Any society, but anyway, yeah. You’re right. It’s a stable stream of income, and I do have two more jobs stacked on top of that. It’s just a strange occurrence.”

“Well, why’re your feathers all ruffled up from someone being interested in you? You’re not forgetting us fooling around back in the day?”

Keith flushes. “Well you are a happily married man now.”

Lance perks an eyebrow and grins. “So you don’t deny we had our fair share of fun times.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off, Lance.”

“By the way, Allura’s asking for you for dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” Keith hums, “Sure. Why not? I miss her cooking.”

“Yeah, right. Just her cooking.”

“Okay! I love her too!”

“I’m fucking with you!”

“I hate you.”

“There is way too much evidence to the contrary for me to dignify that with a proper comeback.”

Keith’s in the middle of sipping his coffee and only shoots him a look. (It’s Keith code for do not disturb.) Lance shakes his head and attends to other business behind the bar. 

Keith slips out of the bar sometime mid-afternoon, strolling down the sidewalk with the unforgiving sun beating down on his back. He wishes to be back in Lance’s and Hunk’s bar with that glorious air conditioning and 5-star treatment, but alas, with Lance around, his productivity in there is always shot.

Plus, he’s starting to feel like he’ll feel safer back at his dingy old apartment everyone keeps bullying him out of leaving. They can’t wrap their heads around his attachment to the place. With that fancy six figures he earns juggling three jobs, why not upgrade, they ask? 

He just prefers the location, he vehemently argues back. Walking distance to all three of his offices.

That and it’s all paid off anyway, it was my dad’s.

It’s not much, but it’s home, and he doesn’t desire so much luxury. The fact that he’s gotten this blessed with work is enough, more than enough, and he may have to cut off one of those jobs and eventually present his two-week notice because the CEO gives him the creeps. 

Just a little bit. 

Somehow, it works on the guy. He’s got that tall, dark, and handsome part all covered, and had some nice muscle tone. A fluffy silver fringe on his head of otherwise dark hair, and what’s interesting to note is the deep scar across his nose. Is he a former gang leader, or something? Just a history of getting into lots of trouble? Things get ugly for him or something? Maybe a military background somewhere along the line? Whatever the reason, it adds to the air of mystery and whatever’s unsettling about the guy. 

It’s largely just the fact that he’s a hot piece of ass with an off-vibe, and out of all the people in that bar he targets, he’s interested in him. Nothing about Keith stands out, at least he’s the only one who thinks that; if even Lance says there’s something about him… 

Keith shakes himself out of that thought process. Maybe he shouldn’t read too much into it. Maybe it’s just one of those incidents of unwanted advancements at the bar gone a bit overboard, and he hopes Lance handles that glitch.

He enters his apartment and is immediately greeted with an overly eager golden retriever, wriggling his body and wagging his tail.

Keith grins and pats his chest to welcome a hug. “Hey, Kosmo, good boy! Did you have a nice, relaxing day?”

Kosmo reverts back to a seating position and barks in affirmation.

“Good boy! Let’s get you some lunch, yeah? And a walk?”

Kosmo barks again as if to confirm.

A little more semblance of normalcy and relief because Kosmo always gives him that after a little chilling encounter and experience again that morning. Only hopeful that it’ll continue through him joining Allura and Lance for dinner. 

Speaking of, what do I wear…? And knowing them it’s not just going to be dinner… 

“Alright! First we focus on you and then we’ll figure out tonight’s fashion statement!”

Kosmo just stares back, tilting his head as if to study him.

Keith meets his eyes, eyes twinkling. “Who’s a good boy?”

Kosmo reacts more positively to that, at least… 

Chapter Text

Since that night’s encounter, Shiro’s already been preparing his next project. He knows what he can do to make himself worthy for Keith’s affections, so he went back to using his at-home, overzealous gym, something of his own design, down to every nook and cranny. He’s returned to basics with grooming himself.

He even remembers how to hack most companies’ systems, getting lucky with that tricky pub, and any transaction Keith makes will go to his card instead. It may mean watching that pub like a hawk, but he goes there as often as Keith does, probably. It won’t be much effort. Even if it eventually may be, Keith is worth all of that effort. 

Suddenly Keith’s made himself feel alive again. 

Just the idea of having Keith all to himself is motivation alone, but what if Keith returns his affections? Obviously that’s the ideal turn out, but even if Keith doesn’t want him, when there’s a will, there’s a way. There’s always a way. 

He always, always, always makes it so it goes his way. 

After spending a significant chunk of this morning with a grueling workout, Shiro hit the shower and examines himself in the mirror. His hair is dry and tamed, he’s adorned in his cleanest casual clothes that hug his muscles in all the right places, and upon further, thorough analysis, his teeth are all speck-free. 

Deciding he passes his personal inspection, he grabs his necessary belongings and bolts out the door, determined to get some answers for his inquiries about Keith. 

He’s met with a rush of the fresh, piny afternoon air and he can’t help but grin like the madman he’s feeling like within. It’s like he’s been set out of the confinements he probably imposed on himself. It’s definitely his fault he allowed the weight of the world to bring him down, but now that weight has been lifted. He’s got Keith to thank for such a wave of euphoria he’s been missing all of his life, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to feel like this again. 

Hell, he doesn’t know if he can feel at all like this until him. 

He finds himself back at the pub, and putting on his best facade, his best everything is perfectly okay and normal, he slips inside, only to be met with a deathly glare from the bartender who also served him that night. 

“Can we help you?”

Lance’s body language signals he’s not welcome here, by the way his face drains of some color and vibrancy and how he stiffens in place, gripping onto the counter, but Shiro persists. 

“Did Keith receive my message this morning?”

“He did.” He shares nothing else. Shiro frowns. 

“And?”

“And he’d like to be left alone, not be seen as a challenge.” Lance crosses his arms. “I’m familiar with men like you. I was one of them. Thought I won and then broke millions upon millions of hearts back in the day. Actually I was just a whole asshole. But Keith doesn’t need that, so fuck off.”

“—You sound like you two are closer than what you let on that night.”

“As if that isn’t obvious?” he sneers, “I’d hate to go as far as to refuse you service here and even ban you from ever returning, but that won’t do you or I any favors. You are a valued customer as any, but please, for the love of God, keep things harmonious and civil here. NOTHING here will escalate beyond pleasantries and just mere acknowledgements of each other’s presence. And if you are genuinely interested in my friend, you better not hurt him or provoke the guy, or it’s not me you should be scared of.”

“Then who?” Shiro challenges with a scoff. “Your wife?”

“I mean, sure, but no actually, I mean him. Don’t be afraid of what I or people who love him will do more than what he will do.” 

Oh shit—that makes things far, far more interesting. A man so fiercely secured in his own masculinity and independence must desire to be taken care of beneath all of that bravado! 

He can feel Lance’s gaze boring through his skull, and he meets his eyes, a wolfish grin spreading across his cheeks. 

“Well then, how about I propose a fair deal? You give me his full name, and I don’t make a spectacle over this while we are present here together.”

“No.”

“A hard one to sway to the other side, huh?” Shiro pulls out a handsome amount of 100 dollar bills stashed in his breast pocket. Likely stacks up to a few thousand dollars. “Not even for a little compensation? Think of it as a chivalrous act, helping a struggling businessman, eh?”

Lance stands his ground: “I believe chivalry isn’t dead, but it’s not so chivalrous if you’re throwing someone’s right to privacy under the bus, isn’t it? Get out of my sight.“

“You’ll see me again, my friend. You won’t rid of a powerful man like me so easily.” 

Spinning on his heel, he makes a show of an exit, the afternoon sun peeking through the windows helps him give off a glow, like a direct spotlight, attracting an audience from nearby tables by the entrance who finally recognize who he is. He loves how much power he still holds over the mass public, and he’ll put it to good use. 

For now, though… 

Shiro whips out his phone out of his back pocket, tapping into the security system cameras surround the block, seeking footage of Keith. He finds some of him walking to the direction of his home, and he’s overjoyed with how he hasn’t lost his hacking touch. He’s tried the civil approach but unfortunately Keith’s bodyguard or bodyguards are stubborn fucks. 

All mine, he thinks, zooming in on what appears to be Keith’s address. 

After getting the distraction he sorely desired having “dinner” with Lance and Allura, Keith’s retired back to his rickety home for a few more days. Regrettably, he feels like he can’t go back to the pub until they get rid of their… or truly just his… pest. He hasn’t returned since that morning. It’s become impossible to get any work done with just Lance working his shift when he’s there. 

Now he has to worry about some quasi-Alpha Male who can’t accept ‘no’ for an answer. 

Keith’s not about the dating scene. Never has been, never can be, never will be—social skills as it is don’t come easy to him like it does Lance, for instance, or even Allura, who’s got all of that diplomatic experience under her belt to account for as well. With how strong his introversion is, it’s a wonder how he acquired as many dear friends as he had. 

Maybe that’s all Lance, though. He’s the social butterfly. He just kind of… brings them together, like the last, fitting puzzle piece. 

Keith’s just the confused one who’s not sure how he ended up in the rowdy, quirky bunch. 

Ding! His screen lights up with a message from Katie Holt. Ah, someone who understands his aversion to society as much as he does. Just the person he wants to talk to. 

PIDGE. Heard some fuck tried to get in your pants. Need me to break his kneecaps? 

Keith snickers. Classic. 

KEITH. Nah. Lance can hold him off, but if reinforcements are necessary… 

PIDGE. Right. Of course. But we found out why Lance couldn’t take that guy’s card out—some hacker issues. We built in stronger protection, so it shouldn’t be a problem again. 

KEITH. Oh that’s perfect. Thank you! I refused to go back until that was resolved. I don’t appreciate it even if the gesture is pretty nice actually. 

PIDGE. Lance told me this guy’s apparently your boss?

KEITH. Yeah. At Technicolor Lions. I work at one of their headquarters in town. Still debating putting out that two week notice… 

PIDGE. Over some creep? I don’t know, I’d like a piece of that ass from what I’ve seen of Shirogane, even if he’s got the social aptitude of a cryptid. Besides, if he’s your boss, he could promote or upgrade you. 

KEITH. Come now, gremlin. I’d like to think I have a little thing called dignity! I’m not going to let a creepy guy feel me up just to get a raise. I don’t need it anyway. 

PIDGE. Spoil my fun. But that’s a good thing. Hey, you’re still going to be here for Matt’s rocket project, right? 

KEITH. Wouldn’t miss it for the world! 

At that moment Kosmo begins to stare directly at his front door, barring his teeth as his lips curls into a frightening snarl, hoping to ward off whatever or whoever he may have sensed. Keith perks an eyebrow as Kosmo, an otherwise the model of the happiest go lucky golden retriever, an ever personable, excitable old pup, begins to inspect the door crack with aggressive sniffs, anxious and on edge and digging his paws into the fragile wood. 

“Hey, hey! Down, boy. What’s wrong?”

Kosmo obediently gets into a ‘down’ position, still with his snout pressed against the door, still on guard. A slip of paper manages to get through the crack, and Kosmo snarls again, directing his snout toward the note. 

There, in the neatest handwritten brush script Keith’s ever seen as he goes to pick up and inspect it, reads an ominous: 

‘You are truly a sight to behold—like the stunning Northern Lights dancing in the inkiest, blackest sky. I’m always watching you.’

Keith inspects the lock to his door and ensures it’s secure before hastily ripping up the paper. He feels the warmth drain out of his face and entire body, his hands shaky and clammy as he scurries to his bedroom and closes the blinds, locks the windows, and sets a rifle at his bedside. Kosmo is close to him.

Keith sits at the foot of his bed, a strained smile on his face as he gestures for Kosmo’s attention. 

“You’re a good boy, Kosmo.” 

A response is a whimper as Kosmo hops onto the bed and curls up next to Keith. 

Unwanted advancements gone awry is an understatement now… 

Taking a deep, shaky breath Keith pulls out his phone and opens back up the chat with him and Pidge. 

KEITH. Reinforcement needed. Come over ASAP.

Chapter Text

UNKNOWN CALLER ID — ANSWER OR BLOCK?

Block. 

Block. 

Block. Block. BLOCK. 

BLOCK. 

BLOCKBLOCKBLOCKBLOCK. 

UNKNOWN CALLER ID — ANSWER OR BLOCK?

Yet it circumvents the block system every. Fucking. Time. What the hell else is Keith supposed to do? What does he want? 

UNKNOWN SENDER. Keith, baby. My beautiful baby. Why won’t you put out for me? Can’t you see how you set me on fire? 

UNKNOWN CALLER ID — ANSWER OR BLOCK?

Keith hits the green button this time, hitting the speaker icon and bringing the phone up to his mouth. 

“What do you want from me?”  he demands, surprisingly keeping an even, firm tone. These advancements ARE NOT welcome, not by him or by any sensible human being. Shiro’s allowed all of that power to get to his head, like he’s above the law just because. 

It may not be entirely wrong but it’s not entirely right, either. 

“Only you,” the familiar voice on the other line responds. “And for there to be no one else for you except for me.” An unnerving silence follows until: “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”

“A gun,” he retorts dryly. “And a murderous canine.”

“Kinky.”

“What does it take for you to fuck off, Shiro?”

“Now how can you expect me to do that? You’re too gorgeous to ignore, baby. And what have I come to find out in all of this in spite of your friends’ unwillingness to cooperate is that you work under me in one of my firms? And what I cannot even begin to understand is why not be working under me in… another way?”

Keith hears something akin to a tree branch snapping by his bedroom window, and some leaves rustling like some wind rushed through them, but there’s no gusts of wind he can attest to hearing, and his head jerks toward the potential source. He hasn’t heard anything back from Pidge or anyone else but he has enough confidence to know they’re doing the best they can to be there for him. 

Kosmo’s ears perk up from the sound and he growls. 

“I do want you beneath me, or above me. Any way I can have you, I’ll have you, Keith. Fucking you silly on my cock or me using you to get off instead. Using your gorgeous little cock to tickle my throat with, or to fuck myself on with, why does that not appeal to you, beautiful?” 

“Stop talking to me like that!” Keith snaps back. 

“Ah, but you enjoy it. That’s why your face is so flushed. Don’t be too shy to let me know you’re hard at the thought—they’re truly tempting ones. Thank you for giving me such a gorgeous sight to behold, baby.”

“Where are you? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” 

“You’re too hard to ignore, baby. Too hard…” Keith hears a sharp, but subtle inhale, a disgruntled groan following suit. His eyes widen as realization hits him like a tidal wave. 

He’s getting off to it — he… he just got himself off. 

He absolutely hates, hates, hates this. Of all the people Shiro targets, it’s him. 

Keith's free hand clutches a fistful of his hair as his heart pounds like the sound of a gong. 

Let it stop. Let it stop. Make it stop. Make it STOP. 

And as if the Angels above answers his pleas… a satisfied sigh is heard over the line. 

"Another night, beautiful. Sleep tight. Hope I’m all you think about in your dreams.”

Click. 

In nanoseconds it’s as if the world stops turning on its axis. The nature sounds he’s greeted with this time of night is nonexistent. It’s only a terrifying silence, like a record’s ceased playing. He feels like his body’s been sucked dry of any livelihood that he even had left in him. The last thing Keith consciously remembers is another strained whimper out of Kosmo before his eyes seal shut, met with an all encompassing darkness. 

Keith’s eyes snap open as his body is shaken by the shoulders. He’s greeted with a pair of concerned amber eyes. 

“Oh my god, you’re okay!” The relief in Matt’s voice is soothing to Keith’s ears, and Pidge and Lance are standing behind him. 

“What took you guys so long?” he murmurs through a yawn, head still pounding from his anxiety episode. “He was here.”

“He as in Shirogane?” Pidge nods at Matt. “Christ. Don’t get me wrong, Keith. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and anyone with eyes can see how much you’re worth, but what’s this guy’s problem?”

“Matt,” Pidge addresses as Matt turns to her, “Didn’t you intern for him once?”

“Yeah, and he seemed like a regular ole’ chap, but that was also seven years ago. He’s a powerful man, but I didn’t think he was capable of this.”

Lance scurries to Keith’s side and sits by him. “Can we get you anything? To eat? Drink? I brought some leftovers from the pub. Hunk’s covering my shift now, but he’d be here if he could.” 

Keith scans the room. “Allura?”

“She’s sound asleep.”

“Let her be, she needs it. T-thanks.”

Suddenly Keith feels a paw resting on his knee and he smiles down at his protective furry friend, scratching behind his ears. 

“You’re a good boy, Kosmo,” he whispers. 

“So what do we do now?” Matt inquires. Everyone exchanges glances until Lance ultimately shrugs. 

“Hard to say.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Pidge mutters, “How much money does this guy make?”

“—Rivaling Bezos and Musk,” Lance interjects. 

“Christ,” she replies, “What does one do with that much money?”

“Defy God and the laws of the world and ever-expanding universe,” he quips, “I don’t know, man, billionaires are a different breed of humanity. Like politicians and world leaders.”

“Or priests,” Keith adds. 

Lance nods vehemently. “Or priests—“ Then his expression falters as realization settles in. “Well just don’t say something like that to my mom, it’ll break her heart!” 

“They have to learn the realities of those things eventually.” 

“Eh. With how influenced the world is by that stuff, I doubt it, and this is coming from the former Bible-thumper.” 

Keith snorts. “Right. Like you were a good little church boy before.” 

“Man…” Lance chuckles, “You just live to give me Hell, huh?” 

“You signed up for it by befriending me.”

“Fair.” 

“Are you okay? I can’t stay for long and neither can Matt or Pidge. But if you need another place to stay for a few nights…?” 

“Better than okay now, thanks to you guys. I don’t want to impose. I’ll just sleep with the rifle in my hand and my dagger under my pillow.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Lance laughs, before leaning on to press an affectionate kiss on the crown of his head. “We’ll be on high alert, don’t worry, and you can call us at any time.” 

Keith yawns through his next question. “What time is it?”

“Well past yours and our bedtimes,” Pidge teases, “Nighty night, Keithy-cat. We’ll stay for a while longer while you settle into bed.” 

He smiles, “Thanks. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

Chapter Text

Events quiet down for a few days, as if someone’s tossing eyes of newt or spoiled milk into a witch’s cauldron while dancing and chanting Latin to brew up Keith’s next tormentor. 

Regardless, life must move on—he has already put forward that two-week notice, and is out of at least Shiro’s firm. That’s as far as what Keith is “putting out” for Shiro. 

That doesn’t mean Shiro’s out of his hair just yet. 

Sighing, Keith stretches his arms over his head and slightly opens the blinds to allow some sun to peep through as he’s hard at work on another article. 

“Hey, Keith! Got any moisturizer with sunscreen in it?” Lance calls from his bedroom’s restroom. 

“Yeah, under the counter.” 

“Great, thanks!” Lance returns to the office and slides into his seat… directly onto the desk. Keith isn’t amused. 

“You’re going to have your flat ass print on the nice mahogany.” 

“You mean this juicy flat ass.”

“For it to be juicy it’d need to actually be there.” 

“Ouch!” Lance laughs, “You know you love this ass.”

“It’s not the ass I love, it’s you.” Keith shrugs, “Okay, the ass is a bonus.”

“Keeeeeeith! Quit doting on me like that, I’m married.”

“As if Allura doesn’t shamelessly flirt with me right in front of you.”

“You’re literally the only exception to the rule.”

“I know, and I milk out every bit of the golden opportunity I can." A pause for theatrical effects. "Like I did with Allura’s tits that other night.” 

“Okay, goddamn, you horndog!” He jokingly fans himself with a slip of paper he found on the table. “Save that all for the next time we want to be bedroom deviants!” 

“Like I said, you signed up for it the moment you decided to befriend me. And then date me. Briefly.” 

“Heh. Anyway, I gotta get going… he hasn’t bugged you for a while, right? You can handle another few nights on your own?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry.” 

Lance finger-guns his farewell. “Ring us up if you need anything.” 

“Mmhm.” 

And just like that Lance’s out the door. Not before securing both locks. Pidge’s taken it upon herself to install a stronger security system—not that it might do any good. 

Eh. It’s the thought that counts. 

What Keith also fails to acknowledge is honestly why Shiro is so adamant about this—there are millions of other ways, more admirable and healthy and actually flattering ways, to approach a person of interest. It’s like he’s in some horror adaptation of Nicholas Sparks’ The Notebook. 

If he has to compare his life to a shitty novelist, that’s probably the next-level approach to ‘saying something’ about how odd these series of events have been.

Maybe all of this is the result of letting all of that power go to his head, Shiro’s ego breaking that fabled ‘ceiling.’ 

All this has proved that there truly isn’t a limit to anything at all. No limit to the lengths someone will go to get what they want. No limit to the atrocities they’ll commit to get there, to achieve something. For these reasons, Keith’s prepared himself for anything, especially for any perceived worst case scenario.

Keith snaps back to reality as he eyes the word count on his unfinished draft. 

3,000 words out of 7,000. 

Time waits for none and life must go on, no matter how troubling and world-breaking it has been. Sucking up any fears or doubts and then banishing them with a deep exhale, he returns to his ‘flow state.’

He’s minding his business and staying in his lane—truly, he is, but Lance can’t help but try to find ways to work around how Shiro seems to be adding unnecessary stress to Keith’s life. It’s unfair, uncalled for, and in all honesty, if Lance had any power in him, he’d take such a dire situation to court. 

But he’s not that much of an idiot, contrary to what people may think, given his boisterous nature and his chronic inability to think critically where it counts. He likes to think he’s grown out of that side of him—some parts of it will always be his core personality and he’s come to accept it. 

He knows there’s nothing he can do, but Keith can, ultimately, take care of himself. The most he and the others can do is be his life support. 

While in the middle of tidying up the bar as his shift draws to a close, he hears the door ring as it opens, and immediately, goosebumps. Hairs standing on end. An unpleasant sensation dances up his spine as he spins on his heel to greet whatever asshole decided to show up at the last minute before his shift’s over.

Lo and behold, it’s the talk of the town (or rather within his group).

He proceeds to aggressively wiping down a beer mug. “Well well well, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You… stay away from him.” Shiro’s not pleased with something he did? Oh goodie fucking gumdrops! As if he gives a single fuck. He slaps his rag down onto the counter, nearby customers jumping or visibly wincing at the intensity of the sound. Clearly Shiro doesn’t give a single damn himself what kind of display of character he gives out to the public. 

“I’m sorry? Forgot the part where it even matters—I was always in his life and you aren’t going to change that.”

“Oh but I can.” He leans over the counter and as if in a flash Shiro grips tightly onto Lance’s face, nails digging deep into his cheeks. “I can destroy your life in a blink of an eye. I can rewrite it all as if you or your friends never existed. I don’t appreciate how intimate you are with my beautiful boy.” He shoves him back, tossing him carelessly as if he’s just a used napkin. Lance staggers backward, almost hitting the array of drinks behind him. “You see this pub is the perfect location to buy out and build a new corp building. You can lose your whole life’s earnings. Or I can make things easier on you and have your business booming instead. All you have to do is stop feeling him up and defiling him—the same goes for your wife, by the way. She can’t touch him like that anymore, either. I can always pay a visit any given time and screw around with your wife.” 

He leans into his ear with a sinister grin on his face, his voice below a whisper: “Or just screw her.” 

He pulls back far enough and dodges deftly just as Lance attempts to lunge for him. 

“Leave her out of it!” he barks. 

Shiro’s grin doesn’t move as he shakes his head, raising his arms in defense. “Ah ah ah. I didn’t bring her into this—you did. Now you can sleep on what I just offered you. You can still keep Keith around. It’s actually heartwarming to see you take care of him while I can’t—he needs to let himself be taken care of sometimes, hm? If I had it my way it’d be always. I just don’t want you touching him like that ever again.” 

“Now that we have reached an appropriate arrangement, I’ll be seeing myself out.” He unceremoniously spins on his heel and thrusts his hands into respective pockets, ambling out the door while whistling an ominous, embellished tune. 

It’s nothing like Lance’s heard of before—and all of this is nothing like Lance’s witnessed before in his life.

Chapter Text

The plan is set in motion, and Shiro can’t be happier. Kosmo’s been put on sedatives that’ll last… maybe a good 24, up to 72 hours, and that’s plenty of time to have a little fun while Keith slumbers peacefully. 

He may also have been drugged. Just enough to be submissive, just enough to keep him aware enough of his surroundings and what’s happening… he just can’t fight it if he ends up waking up. There’ll be no fun in it if he struggles, and Shiro just wants to make him feel good. 

Shiro’s standing just inches away from the foot of Keith’s bed, awed at the work of art below him. The way his skin gives off a milky glow under the bright moonlight, almost as if he’s an ethereal, a divine. The frumpy, crumply checkered duvet weaves around his body like a toga, but it doesn’t flatter his otherwise celestial look. He frowns, working swiftly to work away the bedding and the clothes that take away Keith’s whole form. 

All of this… all of him… his to devour.

Figuratively, of course. 

Shiro cannot hold himself back longer and milks every waking second exploring Keith’s body, starting from prying his legs apart and sliding his hands up to feel the velvety silky smoothness of his freshly shaved legs up to the sharp curves of his hipbones, eying the prize he’s yearned for from when he first laid eyes on Keith that fateful night. 

It’s more beautiful and appetizing than he imagined. A far from modest size for a man of his figure, with a considerable thickness at that—Shiro’ll happily let it choke him, which may be what he will have Keith wake up to if he ever does throughout the process.

His breath hitches as he shifts Keith to get a good few of his pretty little puckered hole, unable to resist pressing the nib of his thumb inside, and already, even asleep, Keith’s hole is sucking him in, hoping for something inside, to fill and to plug him up, it wants to feel full of fingers or cock or tongue. 

Shiro is more than happy to provide Keith’s desires.

Yes, he thinks, I will take my time with you, my beautiful boy.

He pushes his tongue out of his mouth, licking a line on the base of his cock, groaning at how addictive his taste is already, a sensation pooling in his stomach, a yearn for more of him already. As much as he wants to savor this, a part of him can’t wait, he wants to engulf his cock until his ball sack is nestled against his cheeks, to let it sit there until Keith’s crying for him to do something.

But no. Patience yields focus. Shiro must show Keith what he can have if he just lets it happen.

He presses feathery light kisses along his shaft and that elicits an adorably frustrated little groan, but Keith is still asleep, attempting to kick or slap whatever annoyance it is away so he can go back to a peaceful rest. Shiro only pins the hand down onto the bed, continuing his ministrations, tongue lapping up to the tip, slipping it into his mouth. 

An unexpected buck of Keith’s hips into Shiro’s mouth elicits excitement out of him but he tries not to make too much of a disturbance, he has to be calculated with this. There may be no right time for everything but Shiro can make anything go exactly as planned.

Keith’s hand that Shiro’s gripping digs into the sheets, and beads of precum already comes down his throat. It only gives him more motivation. Keith will wake up and see this. 

THIS is what he can do to him, FOR him, if he just let it. 

Both Shiro’s hands glide toward Keith’s hips to keep him steady as Shiro delivers his initial promise—the tip of Keith’s cock meets the back of his throat and already, Shiro feels the strain of his cock against the confinements of his pants, desperate for relief of its own, but patience. Patience is always, always, always rewarded. He can’t have his pleasure until he’s given Keith all of his.

ABSOLUTELY ALL OF THIS IS FOR KEITH. 

His world, his power, his heart, his mind—that’s all Shiro wants to give him, but Keith doesn’t want that from him. 

But… why… the hell.. NOT!? 

Does he not grasp what he can do? What he can be? The things that will bring him more happiness if he just allows himself to feel like he deserves these things and all of the happiness?

Shiro’s tempo is sped up as he repeats the process, only allowing Keith’s cock to warm up in his throat for seconds longer… gradually into minutes… if he can do this for hours he will… Keith just has to WANT IT as much as Shiro wants him.

He feels Keith’s hips jerk in his hold and at that point he knows Keith is conscious enough at that point to know what’s happening—to feel it happening—to allow the pleasure to encompass his entire body… 

“Sh-Shiro! No! S-ss-s-stop! I’ll—! In your mouth—!” 

Except Shiro doesn’t do as told; he feels the white liquid build in his mouth until it’s forced down his esophagus, and he reluctantly removes his mouth from the precious treat with a lewd pop, kissing the tip tenderly and pulling back with his tongue lingering behind. 

He brings his thumb to swipe away leftover semen, and rather than wipe it off with his sheets he licks off the remainder of it before locking eyes with Keith’s horrified, exhausted expression.

“How… are you here?” he rasps, coming down from the strong high after that orgasm. His face has that adorable deep flush, rosy, and a pout like a spoiled, angry little boy. Shiro loves that little quirk. 

Adorable.

Shiro chuckles. “Don’t worry about that now, baby boy. Let me take care of you.” 

“How…” Keith’s still fighting for consciousness. “Did… you get past.. Kosmo—!”

“Shhh, you’re hurting yourself by talking, baby. My pretty baby. Relax. Just want to make you feel good.” Shiro examines him quizzically and rests his chin on his hand. “Was that not good, baby?” 

“S-s-stop calling me that. I thought I made it clear I don’t want you—to do this, any of this.”

Shiro’s playful expression melds into maybe one of the most malevolent he’s ever worn on his face. At least, around Keith. This is not a side he wants to show him. No, no. Shiro wants Keith safe with him, just him. No one else needs to be around Keith. Not even Kosmo.

Shiro will be all Keith ever needs.

“That won’t be an issue. It’s going to work out, baby.” His hands return to Keith’s hip, grip tightening like claws. “Nothing will spoil us, my beautiful, beautiful boy.” 

His fingernails dig deeper into Keith’s milky skin and a whimper escapes his pretty, plump, kissable, biteable lips.

“Nothing.”

Keith’s head is pounding worse than any hangover he’s experienced in his life. Upon waking up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. Initially thinking he just needs to blink the exhaustion away. But he’s right. It’s not his apartment.

He’s not at home.

This is… upon further examination… scanning the room. It feels fancier. Like an estate type of home. It’s far from humble to be called a home actually.

It’s… 

Well, something he can afford himself, maybe, but luxury he’d rather not have.

Luxury he just doesn’t need, because the trials and tribulations in his life are what shaped him into the person he is today. He doesn’t want such privileges to taint the image he’s painted of himself. He prides himself in honest work, in an honest identity, just as his dad wants. He’s had a humble career as a firefighter, but he did good work for the community. That’s more important than money, fame, status… 

This… somehow, to him, goes against that. Being taken care of by someone who isn’t an immediate family member, and even then, that’s a stretch. No one ever wants to be a leech. 

Regardless of how generous his family is… or was, in this case.

Suddenly his nose catches the aroma of German Chocolate Cake, his biggest weakness, and he allows his strong sense of smell to guide him to the kitchen. He’s met with what felt like a majestic grand hall as opposed to a typical, the kind you’d see at an opera house. The high, spacey ceilings, the harmonious shades of rich browns, elegant, warm lighting. 

This is way too nice of a place. It’s like something Donald Trump would waste billions on.

And he knows who he’s being led to, at this point. He’s not an idiot.

He rounds the corner of the hall and climbs down the flight of stairs, and the next floor (which he presumes to be the bottom floor) is just as huge and spacious and filled with a variety of little rooms, he feels like he can get lost in, like a maze.

But his scent is reliable, and he eventually finds himself in the kitchen. A modernized Victorian style. Huh.

Maybe not entirely consistent with the parts of the home he's seen thus far, but who cares? If someone has money, they can do whatever they want with it.

“Why did you bring me here?” Keith’s more about the matter at hand than his desire to devour that chocolate cake. “What the HELL kind of right do you have? What makes you believe you can just take me away like no one will notice?” 

“People will absolutely notice but that won’t be an issue. I’ve exchanged a few…thoughts with your friend Lance. And your dog is staying with him and his wife, by the way. I just wasn’t satisfied with your reaction last night.” He sets the pan of freshly baked gooey rich chocolate cake onto the counter by the oven, allowing it to cool as he removes his oven mits. “I will do whatever it takes to show you what you deserve in your life, Keith. The kind of life you’re living now isn’t fit for you. Think about all of that unmet potential. I just couldn’t bring myself to allow you to go on like that, believing you’re not worth the universe. You deserve everything and more, Keith. You deserve to be revered as a God, and you’re here to learn to feel like and to finally believe that.” 

Keith growls, “You can’t just expect me to—!” 

“I can,” he interjects, “And I have. And so it will be this way. You have been withdrawn from the material world so you can be with me.” He turns to his direction. “So you can love me. And we can be happy.” 

“You don’t need anyone else other than me, including your dog—“ Shiro raises his hand to stop Keith as he opens his mouth to protest. “That doesn’t mean you’ll be isolated from him. I’m not such a monster, Keith. When this works out, Kosmo can be living with us instead.”

“I loathe you with every fiber of my being.” 

Shiro only grins. “It’ll change, beautiful. I know you will see things my way.”

The aromantic scent of the cake torments Keith’s nostrils, and he can feel his mouth watering. Hell, when’s the last time he got to enjoy good cake? He’s such a stubborn ass about his nutrition that he forgets to let himself enjoy a little indulgence every once in a while. 

“Looks that good, huh?” Shiro seems pleased with himself, like he’s earned brownie points for the concoction. Can’t be further from the truth—Keith just has a weakness for sweets. It’s damn tempting to just steal the entire thing away and not share any of it with Shiro. When it comes to food for Keith sharing is not always caring! “This is for this momentous occasion. We’ll be living together. You’ll learn to appreciate me and all that I do and want to do to and for you.” 

Shiro’s eyes flash up and down, the same manic expression on his face. Keith feels his stomach drop, knowing he’s got nowhere to go for now. 

“You are everything, Keith. All I want is for you to believe it.”

Chapter Text

It’s unbelievable it’s come down to this.

Lance should have seen it coming—that guy is relentless, he’s cunning, and he’s always ten steps ahead of the rest of the world (otherwise he might not have gotten as far as he had)… 

But this? This—this is another level of audacity Lance has never witnessed before in his life. 

Kosmo’s alright and safe with him and Allura, but that doesn’t change that Shiro has stolen Keith from his own life. 

This is far from acceptable and yet… there’s nothing they have any power in them to do.

Kosmo’s been waiting at the door for Keith to come back home. They don’t know where Shiro took him. What’s left behind is merely a note on Kosmo’s collar stating Keith’s safe with Shiro now and won’t be returning for a precedented time.

This isn’t fair to the people who love Keith, to Kosmo who cherishes Keith and is dependent on Keith. Lance can’t help but be furious. Not even the public will want to get into any legal issues with Shiro because they know he’ll just do as he threatened his business.

He supposes there’s incentives, but he’s not going to like any of it. He’d rather lose his life’s earnings than have anything serious happen to Keith. And something serious has happened, something he can’t save Keith from. 

He’s never felt more useless in his life.

“You really like it?”

“Yeah. The cake I like,” he popped out a frosting coated finger clean from his mouth to give him the finger. “Not you.”

Ouch. Shiro frowns but doesn’t pry. It’s a bit… hard to given how Keith just inhaled a three layer German Chocolate Cake Shiro baked out of love for him (and just for the joy of the art itself). It’s almost nauseating but at the same time another adorable little quirk under Keith’s belt. It’s like there’s no end to the layers Shiro has to pick at to get him to like him. 

But is it really so much of a mystery why Keith wants nothing to do with him? Shiro’s abducted him, taken him away from everything he knew and actually cherished, all due to perceived selfishness. 

At least, that’s all through the lens of Keith’s hauntingly stunning amethyst eyes. 

It’s not coming from inherent selfishness though. Shiro DOES mean it—Keith’s not living his life to the fullest in the physical human realm, and Shiro just wants Keith to see what he can really have if he just surrenders himself to that very concept. He understands living with humility, but the amount of things Keith tolerates just to be seen that way isn’t acceptable. Shiro cannot in good conscious allow Keith to go on that way. 

“Well… it’s still something I did for you, so I’ll take it rather than leave it,” he mutters, “But don’t I get a piece? I still made it.” 

The cake is already decreased to about a slice and a half left as Keith’s eyes bore squarely into Shiro’s, deadpanning. 

“No.”

Shiro can always make another one. It’s no real loss. But dammit he really wants cake too... Well maybe he might get a chance to get a different kind of cake later if he plays his cards right! 

Once the plate is wiped clean, save for a few crumbs, Shiro swipes it from Keith’s lap, chuckling as he hears a whine in protest, and places it into the sink. A snap of his fingers and it’s already sparklingly clean. 

Keith blinks away as much of his stupor from the act before rubbing his eyes, reassuring himself that he didn’t just hallucinate the display.

“Thought that kind of stuff only happens in fiction.”

“It’s very real,” Shiro quips, “Magic is very real. I am very real and very really in love with you.”

“Yeah, like you didn’t just center your whole personality based around that little fact and kept me here.”

“Keith, why can’t you be more grateful?”

“Because I’m NOT grateful. I am FUCKING pissed. It’s like you think you defy the laws of the world or something!”

Shiro’s pouting like a little child himself now. “Because I do! We are superior to humans. We have no sire but we materialize randomly. We are revered as Gods.” His whole body deflates. “It’s something you deserve, Keith.” 

“‘We’? Who’s ‘we’? What the hell are you supposed to be?”

“We are… energy. Everything you see in the material world. We are what that is. The air you breathe, the water you drink, the feelings you feel, the things you experience, and the world that shapes you, the Earth is that manifestation.”

“You mean you don’t have a name for your…. Kind?” 

This whole damn thing sounds insane, but it explains why Shiro got away with it all with such ease…

“No. Not really. No set name anyway. Most of your world’s religions stem from… our kind. But none of those beliefs are truly accurate nor are they truly real, none of what your world believes is beyond it anyway.” 

“So…” Keith trails off a bit as he processes this new and strange flood of information. “Wait a damn minute! You said you took me away from the material, physical realm. What does that mean exactly? I sound out of my mind when I say this, but are you saying we’re no longer… like… existent?”

“No. To your world you had just… disappeared. You still exist. You are alive. Your friends and people around you still remember you. But yes, we aren’t in the physical realm anymore. This is a higher tier in the astral realm. You can materialize anything your mind desires.” 

“Guess all of that stuff about living in a simulation wasn’t too farfetched after all,” Keith murmurs. “Can I materialize getting the fuck away from you?”

“Sure, when you figure out how this stuff works.”

Asshat. Keith thought. Well, this is  even more unfortunate. “So why do you really want me here?”

“Just as I told you. To make you believe that you are everything and more, Keith.”

“I feel like I’ve actually gone insane.”

“No, you are very much…” Shiro blinks, “Sane. What part of all of this confuses you?”

“So I can’t say absolutely all of it?”

“Hm. You humans are more feeble-minded than anticipated. There’s something off about you, though.”

“Off?” 

“You aren’t… the majority of your kind aims for the kind of money you make and the kind of friends you have. But you don’t… let yourself have more. It’s like it doesn’t serve you like it does them.”

“Well, there’s this little thing called being an unique individual entity.” 

“Sure. But ultimately you all arrive to the same conclusions or share the same thought patterns. No thought seems original there. Like… it is all repetition. Century after century, millenium after millenium. Again and again and again. The same monotonous, mundane life. There’s nothing that amounts to all of it. The same day repeated. Like your world, no matter how much time passes, is constantly regressing, rather than improving. Even in the modern world there are remnants and repercussions you are still facing from… unfortunate mistakes.”

“Don’t remind me,” Keith snorts. 

“Why do you want to go back to a world like that so bad?”

Images of each of his friends flash in Keith’s mind. Then of his mom. His dad. Kosmo. Many memories showing like a reel from childhood to present. 

A hint of a smile shows on his face. 

“There are things that make all of that… worth it. Makes it more bearable. It’s not ideal but no life meets an ideal. All life is just… that.”

It is all supposed to be what you make of it. It’s either pain or bliss. Nothing there is ever truly linear. 

The height of luxury means you are at the top of the chain. And it’s usually so lonely up there. No one actually wants to be at the very top, because once they’re there, they realize how fruitless and empty it all is. 

Shiro must feel that way. On their ‘physical realm’ he’s a billionaire. A powerful human. Maybe not as powerful as he is in his natural state but he still holds so much influence over the mass public. 

“You should… have a fair idea that life there is not great. The nihilism isn't a great look on someone who claims to be a superior entity.”

“But it can be,” Shiro insists, “How is your mind so small that it can’t fathom what more there is?”

“Because I don’t… need to?”

“This is absurd. You can’t actually want that life. I’ve tried everything down there! Everything down there is fruitless and miserable and boring and lackluster!” Shiro sounds like a two year old having a tantrum over a broken toy. “Everything seems hopeless down there until I laid eyes on you!”

Keith doesn’t know how to react. His jaw opens, then closes. What about him? What’s that he hears? 

“You… gave me a new direction, Keith. A new beginning. That fresh start you humans go on and on about when you feel uninspired. I feel like with you we can… I just feel like you hold all the answers.”

Keith looks away, uncertain. “I’m… only human.” 

“Yes and no. You are plenty more than… those creatures. Something divine. Ethereal.”

Keith’s flushing a bit from the compliments no matter how weird things have just become. 

“Well can’t say I know for the life of me what you see in me, but it’s strangely flattering.”

A few moments of dreadful silence until: “I still want to get the hell out of here, though.”

“You can figure that out yourself. In the meantime, you are to remain here. I will take plenty of trips to gather more intelligence. What do you think of this place?”

“Very fancy but very gaudy. Where the hell did you get your design ‘expertise’ from? I’d like them to answer to my many critiques.” 

“What? But these are all inspired by your Earth’s more popular and trendy styles!”

“Trendy doesn’t always mean good! Come on, Shiro!”

“Well then, before I make my next trip, give me a boot camp course on your design philosophies.”

“Gladly!”

Chapter Text

Keith hasn’t thought about how much time has passed since Shiro took him away. The more he dwells, the more the sense of dread and resentment fills in his heart. There’s not much for him here, and the only way he can make his time here more bearable is if he abides by Shiro’s rules—whatever those rules are. They seem to change as his mind does. 

At least there’s TV. Some white noise. But not much is ever on. Just flipping mindlessly through the channels as Shiro shuffled through rooms. Taking care of a needed chore there, or over here. This and that. The existence here must be lonelier than his existence on Earth. Keith still doesn’t understand why Shiro prefers it here. 

Keith will still take his life on Earth over this astral world magical place any day. He has far more autonomy on Earth, he’s in good company, he has stable living… and all of that’s down the drain, all at the hands of a mad not man. 

Speaking of aforementioned mad not man… he stops dead in the middle of vacuuming the intersection between the kitchen and the living room. Likely about to strike a conversation—-

“So, when are you thinking about giving me that crash course?”

—and there we go! Keith grumbles and switches off the television. 

“On your interior design crap? Wait, oh you’re serious. OK. Well that depends. It’s not information I give so freely…” 

“Seeing as you have nothing better to do, why not just give me pointers? This is your home now as much as it has been mine. It should suit your tastes.”’

“Shiro, why am I really here? It can’t be that easy.”

“I already told you why. How hard it is for you to believe that you really are everything, Keith? For someone who works so hard for everything he has, I thought you would know that now.”

“Shiro, that’s not what I asked. I asked why am I here as in why did you take me away from everything?” 

Shiro frowns, whole expression like a wounded animal. “You’re still on about that?”

“Of course I am! That is MY LIFE you took me away from! Because you have this weird ass spiel about me not knowing how perfect I am or something! And why, pray tell, did it have to take going to these measures?” 

“Keep your voice down!” Shiro hisses as if there’s an audience, which there isn’t. “You’re here because otherwise you won’t commit.”

“Ha! Are you joking?” This has to be some sick joke anyway! “What makes you think I’ll commit to whatever you have planned for me?”

“Why not? What have you got to gain from resisting it?”

“It doesn’t matter here. It doesn’t matter if I commit or not—life here seems just as bad if not worse than on Earth. I just want to go back!” Keith chucks the television remote toward Shiro and he ducks his head away, just dodging it by a hair. Shiro’s nostrils flare and he adjusts the vacuum so it’s standing upright before charging toward Keith, pinning him by the neck against the cushion of the couch. 

“You better watch how you act, Keith. You are in MY world now. And if you want to learn how to adapt here and get the most out of your situation, then you have to commit to this. You have to surrender yourself to me. Then maybe you’ll get a chance to go back. And that is a hard maybe. Because right now I honestly don’t believe that you deserve it—not after that, you little fucking brat. You say life there on Earth is what you make it, is it not? It’s no different here. You are here, so I can take care of you. So we can be happy together. I can be your perfect, ideal partner or your worst nightmare. It all depends upon you.” 

With that Shiro peels his hands off from around his neck and rubs off any sweat from Keith’s nerves off his pants. “I have some work to do… feel free to bug me in my office when you get bored.”

He winks suggestively and then leaves him there to recover from such a mood whiplash. Keith has to understand he only has as much power as Shiro allows, otherwise he suffers more that way. Shiro doesn’t want to be cruel but he will be. 

But all he wants is to serve Keith, to love him and for him to love him back just as much. He wants to be with Keith eternally… Keith is all he desires now and he’s all he wants. Keith has been the most exciting thing to happen in his materialized life, and he’s observed the world since the Edo period… maybe millenniums before then… 

He wants nothing more than to be Keith’s one and only. But until Keith accepts his current reality, that won’t happen for some time. He can be patient. 

Patience yields focus. Patience is always, always, always rewarded and always worth the wait… 

So wait he shall do, until Keith commits. Keith is already his universe. Keith just has to see for himself what he can have when he just lets it all happen. 

In due time, Shiro reminds himself. In due time. 

With Shiro and Keith being the only two to entertain each other in this realm, Keith supposes he has no choice but to humor the situation. He’s stuck here. There are ways around it, apparently, but Shiro won’t clue him in on how the manifestation shit in this astral realm place works. Maybe the only way to get him to squeal is to be a bit more… cooperative. 

Maybe he might let him play. Just a little. Only if it gives him some more incentive other than just being bored out of his mind already with nothing to do, trapped in some magical wonderland. While Shiro has already offered him an assignment to give him a proper interior design lecture, he hasn’t yet delivered his promise, and probably doesn’t intend to follow through. He doesn’t have to do more than what Shiro might expect from him, and Keith’s not even entirely certain what those expectations of him are. 

He’s honestly too terrified to find out. He’s already gotten a taste, and anything that can get worse, will get worse. 

“Shiro?” he murmurs, poking his head I into a room a few blocks down from his, Shiro’s home office suite. It’s not a bad room, but never mind design tips and tricks. “I… have a favor.”

Shiro cranes his head over his shoulder. He looks like he was in the middle of reading some book, annotating with a highlighter. “Hm?” 

“Do you want to…” Keith can’t believe this; he’s swallowing any ounce of pride left inside him, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever allow himself to live It down. This goes against anything about his character, anything people ever knows about the kind of person he is… “You said you want to… take care of me here. So… I still don’t know what that means.”

“It means I will leave you wanting for nothing else when you let it be that way.”

“Then… um… so where do you…” Keith swallows, mouth void of moisture. Jesus take the wheel, does he hate asking things of people… especially a not person! “Where do you want to start? In taking care of me…?”

He already feels eager eyes raking his figure from foot to head, head to foot, and he shivers under such an intense, almost scrutinizing gaze. But it’s not out of judgment. It’s out of desire. Lust. Love, even. It’s both a soft look and a naughty one if Keith’s ever seen anything close to it. Keith can’t help but find it an odd array of feelings coming from a man like Shiro. Or a not-man like Shiro. Whatever the hell he’s supposed to be, apparently Shiro doesn’t know a lot… 

In a blink of an eye Keith feels himself being hoisted by his ass and pressed up against the wall behind him, Shiro working down his zipper and pulling out his cock and already peppering affectionate kisses all over it. Already, he can feel himself stiffening from the contact, and he wasn’t even aroused just moments earlier.

Maybe he’s more starved for affection and attention than he truly understands himself… 

“I’ll let you fuck my mouth,” Shiro murmurs into the sensitive skin of his shaft. Keith shudders, “It’s all about you, baby.” He licks a line on the underside of his cock. “It’s all about you. About what you want. I’m doing all of this…” He presses another kiss to the tip. “For you.”

Keith rests his hands behind Shiro’s head to steady himself, groaning. He can’t really focus, a little taken aback by how much Shiro seems to want him, really want him, any way he can. He’s not used to being desired at all. There are exceptions, of course, but this is all just far too… new to him. 

He doesn’t know what to do, and before he has a chance to react, half of his cock is already stuffed into Shiro’s warm mouth and he’s struggling to find any string of coherent thoughts. Just feeling it. He’s panting, desperate, fingers now digging into Shiro’s hair. 

“S-Shiro! F-f-ngh!” 

Sometimes it doesn’t take him long to get off. Other times it’s a long, drawn out, torturous process, and he loves any and all forms of pleasure. It’s just the fact that he’s allowing Shiro to finally give it like he’s always been begging to, to fully give it, that’s making him hate himself for it. 

Shiro’s mouth truly does feel good on him, but what’s more euphoric is the idea that someone like Shiro truly wants him like this. It still doesn’t make sense. Keith’s not worth as much as people claim. He’s just Keith.

But apparently to everyone in his life, oddly enough with Shiro in thrown into the mix, he’s everything.

“Sh-Shiro… it’s… too much—! Fuck!” 

Keith finally comes deep into Shiro’s throat as his whole body quakes in Shiro’s vice grip. Shiro’s face is nestled into Keith’s balls but he pops off clean, licking off excess cum off his lips, like it’s something he can’t get enough of doing. Keith falls limp into Shiro’s hold after the high escapes, still panting. 

“Was that so bad, baby? Do you see what I can do for you when you just let me?”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Keith managed through gasping breathes. God, it’s so much. He can’t remember the last time he came like that. He has to admit—it was good. Shiro’s good. “You said you’re mine to use, remember?”

Shiro only nods, nuzzling his face into Keith’s neck. “I am, Keith. All yours. But you are also all mine. We aren’t stopping here.”

“What? But I thought you said—!”

“I have as much to gain from this as you. Your life, your puny human life, over there is all a game. It’s not so much different here except…” Shiro’s eyes grow dark. “I have all the power… I only share mine with you when I choose to. And I can easily take that privilege all away.” 

Shiro kisses into his neck. “So remember, you have as much power as I decide to give you. And right now, I’m as generous as ever. Always going to be putting your pleasure before mine. Giving you all the freedom, all the right to choose, as far as your own imposed limitations here grants you.”

Keith knows better than to challenge his words—all of this is unknown territory. He can’t say anything when he doesn’t know what to expect. Shiro’s laying out all of these conditions with more conditions. He won’t know when he crosses a line. 

“So why don’t we take it elsewhere, hm? This must be uncomfortable. I only want to take care of you, Keith. Here we only have each other.”

As the reality settles in, Keith allows Shiro to carry him. Where to, he doesn’t ask, only knows that it won’t matter anymore. 

He’s stuck. And he’s committed, like Shiro begged him to. 

He’s doomed.

Shiro eventually takes him to a huge bedroom, and he’s secured against the fluffy mattress. He can’t remember how long it’s been but he’s just had a vibrator at a considerably high intensity stuck in him and he’s too fucked out and debauched to care. 

“Does it not feel good, baby?”

“S-stop calli…nfhfh…” A loss of words. Losing that fight in him a little. Such a little spitfire for still trying to fight back. Shiro loves the little challenge Keith set up for him—but at a certain point the struggle becomes more trouble than it’s worth. 

Shiro’s still beyond thrilled, glad he’s complying, for once. Sure, after some effort. And sure, a little more convincing with a hint of coercion tossed into the mixture for good measure, to sweeten the deal. He’s tempted to increase the power of the vibrator already deep in there, but he relents, maintaining this pace. 

“Say you like it.” Shiro plunges the vibrator deeper inside Keith, hitting that right spot, and Keith mewls from shock. 

“Fuck you.”

“Soon, baby. Just want to have more fun. Just want to make you feel good. Let’s focus on you.”

“I hate—hfffg—this—“ 

“Really, do you? Is that why you have that cute rosy blush on your face again? Or why you’re getting so hard?” Shiro chuckles darkly. “Why deny the truth, Keith, when there is clear evidence to the contrary?”

“Fuck you,” he repeats, panting. 

“Patience, baby. I’ll plug you right up with my cock soon. This little hole is such a slut for being plugged up and filled.” Shiro’s eyes flash to Keith’s aforementioned pulsing cock. “Not before I use your cock to tickle my throat with again. Like that night, or even earlier today.”

“Bnfgh…” 

“Maybe I’ll let it plug me right up instead. Keep this vibrator shoved up in you.”

“No, fuck, I can’t.” 

“You can, baby. I believe in you.”

“Shiro, please… I can’t…” 

“You can.” Shiro’s grin doesn’t move from his face as he watches Keith’s eyes roll back, his hole eagerly squeezing around the vibe, shaking and thrashing against the bed. “Mm, that’s it, Keith. Enjoy it, you deserve to feel good…” 

Keith’s neglected cock is twitching and leaking from over-arousal. Keith can’t stop whimpering, gasping, frightened and all putty in Shiro’s hold. His grin only spreads. What a lovely prize he has here. The perfect little trophy to worship and to praise and to pleasure. 

“Still not satisfied?” Shiro purrs, as he pauses, considering. “Maybe we need to take things a step further.” He leaves the vibe inside Keith but pulls away for a moment. Keith recognizes the clink of a belt being removed and he cranes his neck upward, eyes widening. 

“Wh… what are you doing?” Keith breathes, exhausted already. Only wishing for this to cease. 

“I am still all yours to use, just as you are mine, Keith.” He answers as he climbs over him, grasping his throbbing, aching cock with one hand and using his other to work himself open. He glares down at Keith’s fearful and uncertain expression and only laughs, an invitation to taunt him. “What? Never had anyone ride you before? You and your friend Lance aren’t shy around each other.” 

Keith only continues to squirm: “Fuck… off!“ 

“There’s nowhere for you to go, Keith. Nowhere to run. Nothing you can do except accept this arrangement. No one will be here to save you, or to stop me. Might as well have your fun. Keep allowing me to be your fix. Be my puppeteer.” He gasps in pure bliss as he sits himself onto Keith’s cock. “Fuuuck… Keith… still can’t believe how you’re so modest about your size. Or about anything you are. It feels so good inside me.” 

Shiro’s hands slide up Keith’s toned stomach and chest and wraps securely around his neck. Moaning as he feels Keith twitch inside him, he bucks his hips upward and then back down his shaft in one, smooth languid motion. 

“Since you won’t take the wheel…” Shiro murmurs as he bends over, kissing along His neck and chin. “I’ll take good care of you, Keith. We’ll take care of… hsss… each other…” 

Before Keith shouts in protest, Shiro stuffs three fingers into his mouth. More protests are muffled through saliva soaked fingers and he only continues to just laugh, almost in pity. 

“Just let it go, my beautiful baby—stop fighting it. Just feel it. Feel how good it must be to have your cock plugging me up. Don’t I feel so tight? Don’t you want to drill it raw? I’m giving this to you. I’m giving all of me to you, and even after that, you still are so, so ungrateful for my kindness.” He takes his cock back in with another languid motion, groaning. “You could have this hole whenever your mood strikes for it. You could do whatever you want when you take the wheel. Remember what I said, baby.”

“You still have the power,” Keith murmurs after Shiro takes away his fingers. “You only share it with me.” 

“That’s right. You’re learning. Such a feat must be praised, rewarded…” Shiro reveals the vibe’s controller in his hand and Keith whimpers, shaking his head, vehemently against what Shiro has in store, but Shiro ignores him. The vibe increases in intensity and Keith shouts, and he’s unable to move, feeling like he’s gone numb from it all. Defenseless!

“Just let it go and feel it, Keith. We aren’t stopping.” 

Not here, not now, and maybe not in the near future. 

But who will ultimately reap most of these benefits?

The news about Keith’s disappearance spreads like a wildfire among the people closest to him. The response is like a shattering glass—Allura’s been suspended to her bed, inconsolable. Lance, as well. Hunk too. 

With all of them immobilized and frozen by guilt and frustration, Pidge and Matt assemble to form… something. Anything. 

Pidge may have had the most accountable reaction, but she’s still upset nevertheless:

“Lance said what now? Keith’s gone?” 

Matt nods grimly. “I mean, Shiro didn’t make it a secret that he was the reason behind his disappearance—it wasn’t a ransom note he left with Kosmo at Lance’s doorstep. It was a warning to steer clear of his affairs. I can’t guarantee how much of an empty threat that is—translation: it definitely isn’t an empty threat—but there’s nothing we can do to protect him right now.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Pidge splutters, “We should have installed more protection on that damn apartment.”

Matt drags out a sigh, adjusting his glasses. Weighing out the pros and cons the conclusion he arrives to is one he wishes wasn’t so.

“I don’t think that would have made a difference, Pidge. The guy’s a sleaze and apparently, a skilled stealth artist. Like, I’m actually a little jealous that he pulled that off so flawlessly. Right under our goddamn noses.” 

Pidge begins pacing around the lab, already tensions running higher and higher. Of course they’re scared, Keith’s safety has been compromised, they don’t know what kind of other atrocities Shiro may inflict on him while they’re out of their sight, and they don’t want to entertain ideas out of fear of scaring themselves even more.

“So what are we supposed to do? Are we just sitting ducks until we get a lead? Where would Shiro even take him?”

“Well, given how calculated he is, I doubt it’s any of his more renowned buildings. That unfortunately doesn’t narrow it down, only expands the list. I wish I could be of more use in this department…” 

“Come on, we’re not Holts for nothing,” she scoffs like the answer’s supposed to be obvious (and as much as Matt would otherwise agree…) “Three can play at that hacking game. Shiro’s good but not like us. We can find out where they are, pronto.”

“I don’t doubt our abilities at all, Pidge, but… something feels off about all of this.”

“Can you wrap your head around why?”

“No.”

The severity of the situation is already settling in too well with Pidge. Her body’s caving into itself. Her eyes darken. Her world’s about to implode. She doesn’t know how to move forward. That’s.. A first. She always knows what to do and how to lead. 

Keith’s missing. Keith’s gone. Right before their eyes, the minute they let their guards down… 

“Well that bites…”

At the institution Matt teaches at, the computer lab’s barren and empty, save for one or two brave souls apart from the Holt siblings who come there to study or to complete any remaining coursework. It’s not long until Hunk joins them at the back of the room, riddled with tears at the news. 

“Dude! That Shirogane guy is no joke!” Matt and Pidge simultaneously hush him for his volume and tone, not just to avoid disturbing the present students, but because of the mere mention of Shirogane at all. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He frowns, “But that’s just not right, man. It’s not. Lance is so upset. I can’t even get him to laugh at dumb yo mama jokes or cheer him up with a Die Hard quote or a The Office meme. He’s beyond repair. And I feel like a terrible friend for not being there for Keith more! What are we supposed to do?” 

“We…” Matt sighs again. “Really don’t know, Hunk. Until we get any lead on where he is…” 

“Man… this bites!” 

“You’re telling me!” Pidge chimes back in.

“How’s Allura taking this?” Hunk inquires, chewing on his lip. Dumb question, but he’s an anxiety riddled, yellow bellied mess as always. Just spewing out stuff. 

“Badly,” Matt replies, “It’s just… not right. None of it.”

“We’ve definitely established that… things have never felt so hopeless.”

Matt purses his lips. Pidge is right. He’s trying to keep his head held high for Keith, but what can they do… ? 

A lightbulb lights up in his mind. 

“It may be a stretch, but if you guys can find time to explore Keith’s apartment later…”

“For what?” Pidge and Hunk ask in unison. 

“Anything that flies us in on where Keith might’ve gone! Come on, guys… sometimes you make me doubt we’re a trio of geniuses!”

“We won’t fail you, Matt. We’re all just still reeling.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Now get lost, Team Punk, your intelligence is required elsewhere—I have grade work to finish in the security of my office.”

The fucking finally stops. 

At least, for an unprecedented time, it does. Keith doesn’t know how time is measured here therefore can’t make an accurate calculation. It no longer matters when there’s not much to do here (except to do Shiro, apparently). 

With that piece of garbage in mind, Shiro has actually been the image of model husband in the aftercare process, no matter how much Keith loathed it all. The idea of dependency on anyone disgusts him like nothing else, but he hasn't any other choice. He’s fed until he’s plump with belly bloat, he’s held and kissed and snuggled on his bed. It feels almost nice. Like it’s a semblance of what it’s like at home with people he actually gives a shit about. 

For now Shiro’s all he has. 

“Can I get you anything else?” Shiro inquires as he lowers the glass of water from Keith’s lips. It’s nearly gone, but Shiro won’t force too much right now. Which is a shock, they both know, but Shiro still wants Keith taken care of like that hasn’t been the majority of his fixation here… 

“I want to know if my friends are okay…” Keith whispers, scared to outright admit it but he can’t help it. He misses life there that much and it makes Shiro’s blood boil. He can’t understand why. Life can be so much better with him and Shiro’s already snuck peeks at how his friends are reacting to his disappearance… 

And upon further analysis it’s better if Keith remains in the dark about how his friends are scrambling like headless chickens to find out what happened. Well, they know what happened—they just want to amend it. Bring him back. 

Shiro cannot allow it. Not yet. Keith has much to learn about himself, about his own origins… He is the one for him. Shiro can sense it.

But Keith… seems more miserable here than there, and Shiro absolutely cannot, for the life of him, understand why. It can be true that the puny human life is enough to keep him content, but he’s meant for more.

Keith is just sprawled across the nice feathery cushiony bed just blankly staring at the high ceiling. Maybe counting the tiles or the cracks between them or counting sheep to drift off to sleep. After that little fuck session (little is a term he’s using loosely), who the hell knows what’s going on in his head right now? Time doesn’t work here the same way it does on Earth. Time is much… faster here than Earth. But Keith won’t age. Maybe a lot of it is more to process for Keith than Shiro initially expected.

“Are you going to stay so pathetic like this, baby? Why not entertain yourself a little bit? There’s plenty to do here, there’s a gym, a pool. Nice showers and baths.”

“No thanks.”

Shiro tightens his jaw, so far from amused and more disappointment pools in his stomach. Shiro can’t believe this defeatist attitude Keith is suddenly sporting. Does he hate him that much?

Does he hate it here that much?

“Well fine then, suit yourself. Make your life miserable here or make some decent use of your resources… they’re all here for you. Your experience is what you decide you want to have here.” I can be included among those resources, Keith. All yours to use as much as you are mine to use. “If you need me I will be back in the kitchen. Baking another cake which this time is off limits. You ate everything and didn’t even spare me a crumb. At least you enjoyed it.”

He ambles out of Keith’s bedroom and into the kitchen as promised, and eventually, Keith allows for that blissful unconsciousness to consume him for a few hours. 

Maybe a few more days of rest. 

Or however the Fuck time is measured here. 

After Pidge and Hunk leave Matt to grade his papers, he’s interrupted by a student sliding an uncharacteristically late assignment. He adjusts his glasses as he reads the name at the top right of the assignment. Neatly written as opposed to the messy third draft of an analysis he should have put forth more effort into, and this is his top student. Intern, really. He meets their purple hues. 

“You were supposed to turn this in at 08:00AM today.” 

“I know. I’m sorry, sir. Just… have stuff going on. Distracted. It’s not an excuse.” James seems hesitant to comment on something, and allowing curiosity to get the best of him, he urges him to open up. 

“Keith Kogane is really missing? Y-your friend?”

Matt perks an eyebrow. He sets his pen down and folds his arms on his desk. This is already consuming him and he’s already struggling to concentrate on immediate tasks out of concern for Keith’s safety. 

“Unfortunately. No one is taking it well.”

“Naturally. We… he went to camp with me a few years ago during undergrad and… it’s not like him to do that.”

“We know. He’s stubborn and a fighter, that one.”

“And there’s no leads? None? Just disappeared without a trace?”

What’s got Griffin so worried? Asking so many questions as if he gives a single damn? From what Matt’s heard of his attitude toward Keith, it isn’t necessarily friendly or chummy. 

…Does he know something? 

Still, Matt doesn’t answer, an uncomfortable silence suffocating them both. That gives Griffin the information he needs out of him, though, because he’s already left the room, door flapping behind him. 

Shaking his head, he resumes grading.

But then his phone vibrates toward the edge of the desk, and irritated, he swipes his phone off and brings it to his ear. 

“Yeah?” he greets, and his expression softens. “Lance? Okay, yeah. No, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Click.

“This sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, dude!”

“Yep…”

“What are we supposed to do???”

Pidge is tempted to pummel him into dirt or grind him like cinnamon sticks, but she remembers her breathing. Breathe. Focus on the matter at hand. Linear… tunnel-vision… Keith needs them… find more clues… anything they can use against Shiro… keep him away… 

“We can’t move forward until—“

“Yeah, yeah! Until we have a lead! Whatever, Pidge! It’s not like it’s going to drop magically onto our laps—!”

“Exactly, so quit yer whining and keep looking for anything we can use as evidence around here!”

“How can we even find anything of value in here? Keith doesn’t have anything here beyond mere essentials! And even the roof over his head isn’t stable! How long has that loose piece of wood on the ceiling been there? And does he really only have one full dining set?”

“—He’s just one person, Hunk. It’s probably easier to manage with all of those jobs he juggles so masterfully.” 

“And did you see his restroom? Barren! Just one nearly used up tube of toothpaste, and one toothbrush that hasn’t been replaced! And the TILES! Oh god the TILES!”

“So he’s just like any other greasy gremlin of a man, good to know.” 

“What? No, I mean he’s squeaky clean as far as men’s hygiene goes, it’s just the fact that he doesn’t find more time to invest in himself, man! He even has one of those 3-1 shampoo conditioner and wash in uh…” Hunk actually reveals it in his hand. “Icy Cold Mountain. What kind of scent is that?”

Hunk inspects the scent after prying open the cap and gags. “Reminds me of Axe.” 

“Is he a pro-wash cloth guy? …Please say yes.”

“Yep. There was a few in there.”

“Oh, thank God, then he is clean and not like most dudes who—never mind.” 

“Like most dudes who just do the whole slip and slide down their little booty crack and booty hole with the body wash?” Hunk shudders, “Yeah, ewwwwww… that’s just so weird.”

“Is it true that you guys don’t even use toilet paper to wipe your—“ Pidge pauses, “You know what, I have a brother, I can ask him.”

“Well I’ll tell you if you teach me how you girls do that really cute and really useful head turban wrap thing out of the shower.”

“What? Really? It’s so easy! Okay, fine! But later! We’re supposed to be finding something here, remember?”

“And that would be—?”

“Anything that gives us an idea of what Shiro did with Keith. That’s it. Now go, shoo! I got the living area, go to the kitchen or something?”

“Gladly!” Hunk leaves just as Pidge resumes rummaging through more piles of… things to sift through herself. 

Keith needs a lesson on basic organizational skills… and an overall life audit, at that. 

This is hopeless… Pidge thinks. But I have to keep going for him. 

“Lance, you cannot beat yourself up for this,” Matt urges, attempting to swipe away the fourth? Fifth thing of liquor Lance downed in one sitting. Of course he’s miserable. Keith’s one of his first loves, and he’s gone missing because of some obsessive maniac. No one has the power to find out where they are, but there’s a chance that Shiro may pop up at any given moment. It may certainly be a gruesome sight if these two cross paths again and Matt is here for assistance, but for right now, he has to focus on getting his friend to sober up and to get a hold of himself. 

Lance manages to deftly dodge Matt’s attempt as he steals another long, agonizing sip, drowning his miseries through the satisfying burn sizzling on his tongue then flowing down his esophagus to his intestines. It’s clearly something he’d rather feel than the void Shiro left behind, taking one of the people most important to Lance.

“The fucking audacity of that man!” he slurs, nearly spitting in Matt’s face. Matt grimaces but doesn’t comment. Lance is understandably wrecked by this, but so is everyone else! “Keith has a life here! A life he built, all on his own! No outside help, no nothing, and he has people here who love him! Who does that guy think he is? What might he be getting away with now!? I can’t—hic!—believe this!” 

“It’s not your fault! We didn’t see this coming, either, buddy!” 

Lance prepares himself another glass. That bottle’s nearly empty. Sure, as experienced of a drinker Lance is, Matt can’t help but worry for any repercussions he may face—it’ll take too long for him to recover for his taste and then he’ll beat himself up even more over not being able to help Keith where it really matters. There’s nothing he, or any one of them, could have done to prevent what has just transpired. Lance needs to learn to be kinder to himself—something Allura is still teaching him, Matt’s certain about that part, no doubt. 

“What does it matter anyway?—hic—it’s all pointless! The guy’s loaded, no one will stand up to him. People are going to—hic—cover it up because of how much he—hic—contributes. To the whole damn globe he’s this—hic—saint. But he’s just this overly privileged rich guy who thinks he can get away with—hic—everything and he definitely can, which is—hic—the worst part!” 

“That’s enough liquor, Lance.”

“Don’t be that guy. I just want—hic—Keith back. So does Kosmo! Did that guy stop to think about how Kosmo would take this!? That—hic—fucking asshole!”

“At least he took it upon himself to make sure he’s with you and Allura,” Matt murmurs, “Which goes to show maybe he’s not all that psycho because have you heard the kind of stuff psychopaths would do to animals in their childhood? It’s not… it’s inhumane!” 

“What Shiro JUST did to Keith is what’s inhumane! What I want is him BACK! SAFE! He doesn’t need a guy like that! He can take care of himself! He was happy and secure until that guy decided to mess with him!”

Matt buries his face in his hands. The pub is shut down for a few days until further notice, so they’re alone, but even he understands how much longer this night will drag on the longer Lance downs more drinks. Now Matt’s wondering if he should have pre-gamed. This whole damn thing is absurd to him as well; he just wishes for more options, for another window of opportunity or a sign to get Keith back to them and away from that psycho safely.

First thing’s first, though—he has to get Lance the hell out of here. This isn’t serving him.

And this is worsening his own sense of mental well-being.

Hunk and Pidge find nothing of value thus far, expectedly. 

But Hunk has been called to other duties. 

“Allura?” he answers her call in the middle of exploring Keith’s barely there kitchen. “Hey. Good to see you out of bed. Or are you still in bed?”

“Hi Hunk. I need help cleaning the house… Lance and I have been far too devastated to focus on anything else!

“Of course! I can be there as soon as I can. Working on something with Pidge here.”

“That’s alright. Please take your time. I’d love to see you.” 

Click. 

“Hey Pidge, I don’t think we’re going to be finding anything today and Allura needs—whoa!” Hunk walks in on a disaster Keith will not be happy to return to! 

“Sorry! I’ll stay behind, if Allura needs you go to her! I got it covered!”

“I hope so! I’ll be back to check on you!”

This has gone on quite enough.

Eventually, Shiro snags Keith off of that bed and into another room. It’s another spacious area, full of white tile, the kind you’d see at a hospital restroom, and that’s exactly (sort of) what this place is inspired by. 

It’s not a restroom, though. This is… a very unique chamber of Shiro’s own creation. He’s had many thoughts he’d like to entertain since he brought Keith here. Well obviously since he laid eyes on him, but the point still stands… 

“Let go of me,” Keith hisses, finally springing back to life. Only to be kicking and biting at him in protest, but soon enough he’ll lose a bit of that fight in him.

It’s no fun if he resists the affection too much.

“No can do,” Shiro quips back as a level glides up through a tile on the ground. It tilts slightly, unlocked cuffs materializing as he rests Keith onto the surface, locking his wrists and ankles in place. Keith’s eyes shift left and right and he struggles in the bind, but it’s no use. 

“We’re going to resume our little fun.” Shiro smiles dangerously. “And how there is much fun to be had…”

“Thanks for getting me out of bed. I know it’s not doing any of you any favors,” Allura sniffles into another facial tissue. “Not where it counts. How could I have allowed him to go back home? We could have prevented this.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Hunk replies, “We’re still looking for… anything, just anything, you know? We don’t know how to find him.”

“Even searching through his apartment?” She inquires, “Which, might I add, you did without a warrant.” 

“Allura, we’re his friends, not the popo.” Hunk grins, “Glad you’re feeling strong enough to tease me.”

Allura giggles into her hand. “It has been a while, Hunk. We don’t get to hang out all together like we used to.” 

“Yeah! Because someone’s a married woman.” Hunk waggles his eyebrows and Allura giggles harder. “Matt’s trying to console Lance right now, too, but… you know. If he doesn’t even respond to crappy memes, then it’s really killing him.” 

“What can I do to be of service?”

“Well, I don’t know. You and Lance knew Keith the best, not that it makes a difference here… he’s still gone. He could be right under our noses and we won’t know until it’s too late, and it’s killing me not knowing.”

“Me too, Hunk.” Allura sighs, “Me, too—it’s devastating.”

“Did you eat? I can whip up a quick meal. Maybe an old family recipe?”

“Sure, why not? I could certainly use a break from all the cooking.” 

“Lance doesn’t help?”

“Of course he does! Or he tries to…” 

Hunk can’t help but chuckle himself. 

“Awww man. Let me guess: he’s burned himself way too many times on that stove!”

“Accident prone as ever! I don’t trust him in there!”

Hunk busts up laughing as he enters their kitchen, assembling the necessary ingredients and tools. 

This will serve as a nice little reprieve from reality for a few hours, he thinks. 

Chapter Text

Existence, by definition, is lonely. 

Anyone who’s figured it out can attest to the claim—though it doesn’t have to be a necessarily nihilistic viewpoint. Everyone has their own tale to record in the universe’s timeless history. Though it may all be irrelevant in the next lifetime, that doesn’t mean you can’t leave as big of a footprint as you want during your lifespan. 

The whole point of their realm is to find their “ikigai,” or their reason to get up in the morning. What drives them, what sets their soul on fire—otherwise of course life on Earth is going to be mundane, monotonous, and boring. 

A life without direction cannot, and won’t ever, serve anyone. Even the most uneducated out of a group of people can find the simplest things that bring them joy. 

And that’s what life’s been like for Keith. He doesn’t have a lot, and what’s the point of having everything fall right onto your lap? What’s the point of being power-hungry? Craving any and all you can achieve? There’s a reason why they say it’s always loneliest at the top—and Keith doesn’t want to climb any higher than where he’s at now. 

So what’s got Shiro’s underwear in a bind over him not allowing more access to luxury or material things? It doesn’t serve him like others, and he may have the ability to afford it, but just because he can doesn’t mean he should. Power can quickly morph into greed. 

It’s evident with Shiro here. Not only does he already have some kind of supernatural attributes, he has the power as a billionaire in his human form. 

That can’t be good for the psyche. 

If Shiro believes he has all of his answers, to whatever inquiries he holds, then Keith doesn’t know what to think. He’s nothing like what people claim. He’s just him. He’s just Keith. 

He just… is, like everyone else. 

He doesn’t want to be special. He’s not about the status statements. He’s made that clear and yet no one, especially not Shiro, can wrap his head around why that is. It doesn’t have to make sense! That’s just how he’s always lived his life, and the only thing left to do is figure out a way out of here. 

Shiro still refuses to clue him in on the manifestation tricks in this realm. Maybe then this tacky home might have some class and a sense of that cozy home feeling. This whole magical realm thing is useless to him until he learns to properly utilize his resources. 

At a certain point, something’s going to give and he’ll figure it out. 

But for the moment… 

Maybe he might go bother Shiro? Who else has he got to annoy around here? The ceiling? The walls? The bedazzled, gaudy resin coaster he keeps fiddling with on the bedside table? 

He feels like he’s gone numb from sheer boredom. Hell, he wants more of Shiro’s attention, and he can’t believe he’s admitting that he likes it a little. Just a little. 

Shiro’s just okay. 

But he can’t stop thinking about how far he went that other day. The bondage, tied down against an extremely uncomfortable table. The vibrators. The orgasm delay and denial. 

Not to mention riding him like no tomorrow. Still not quite over it. Might actually want another round. 

And he hates that he admits to it. 

“Something on your mind?” Shiro teases as he enters his bedroom, supply restock apparently, or just an excuse to go see him. Otherwise Keith’s just been avoidant since all of that the other day ceased. He’s just amazed Shiro allowed him such grace. 

“No.” Shiro gives him a look and Keith’s resolve crumbles. “Yeah. Bored, really. Just want to go see them.”

“You could,” he reminds him. “Just have to—“

“—figure it out, I know,” he sighs, “But you aren’t telling me anything!”

“Now where’s fun in that? I told you—it’s all a mind game!” 

“What kind of hint is that? What does that mean? What can I do? Send messages? End up in their dreams as actually me or something?”

“Anything you can imagine of is real,” Shiro replies, and now Keith is giving him a pointed look, “Sorry, it’s the poet in me.”

“Your poetry’s all purple prosy garbage. So flowery and—!”

“—Some people are into it!”

“Apparently not me!” Shiro looks like a wounded animal once again. “Dude! You think trendy always means good and extravagant, super advanced vocabulary is useful in literature! In some cases, yeah, but it’s not a one-size-fits-all, okay? Like you said, it’s an art. Not all technical and not always objective too, sure, sure. Just like anyone can buy their way to being a fashion icon, but having an inherent sense of style is forever once you develop that skill. And you lack in all of those categories.”

“You say all these things and do nothing to help that dingy apartment you call home.” 

“Another piece of advice that ties into that, by the way, is just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. And besides, that ‘dingy old’ apartment has been my home since I was born. I’d rather you not diss my roots. I’d like to keep things as they are there. Keeps memories alive of lost loved ones and all.”

“Then why not keep it as an asset? You don’t have to sell it or anything. You have enough to buy a decent enough home.”

“I’m just one person, Shiro. Maybe if I was married.” Keith thinks harder for a moment. “And a nice and big backyard for Kosmo to run around in all he wants…”

“See? Even if you don’t need it, Kosmo might like the change.”

“Well yeah! I just… don’t need it now. Kosmo’s happy as long as we’re okay.”

“Okay.” Shiro doesn’t request further elaboration on that matter. Thank fucking God. Keith feels like he gets an earful every time he opens that big, loud, obnoxious mouth. “So what else do you need?”

“Depends. Got anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“Actually, since you’re so curious, I was hoping to…” Shiro’s trailing off, tongue dipping out of his mouth. Shiro’s eyes trail down to his rear and Keith shivers. “Well, I honestly just want to eat out your ass.”

Keith’s eyes widen before he splutters. “Wh-what?”

“Never have it eaten before?”

“Um, no… that’s the first time I’ve ever been requested… I, uh…” Keith flushes deeper than some scarlet shade Allura might have stocked in her lipstick collection at home. “I…. Sure?”

Shiro’s hovering over him in an instant, those adventurous hands exploring the dip of his waist and hips and sliding down to his rump. Keith’s blushing harder, more than just a little embarrassed. At least of all the people who are fixated on him, it’s apparently a very generous service top (at least when he’s not in the middle of his cruel streaks)… 

“Remember what I said about the manifestation abilities you have here?”

“Oh the abilities you’re so adamant about not teaching me how to do? Yeah what about them?”

“I… might have a little trick up my sleeve.”

Shiro’s fingers tuck into Keith’s pants and he slides it down just past his ass, and Keith whimpers from the skin meeting cool air. The anticipation is already killing him, and now Shiro’s hot breath is fanning between his crack. It’s an odd feeling, but it gets weirder as Shiro closes in, tongue slithering along the rim. 

“Shit,” Keith groans, biting onto a balled fist, other hand pressing into the mattress. 

“Already so sensitive? We haven’t even gotten to the main event yet,” Shiro chuckles with his tongue still at work on his rim, teasing by pushing the tip into his hole for a brief moment. Shiro’s hands rest on either of Keith’s cheeks and caresses them like he’s his long time lover, and shockingly enough Keith relaxes. 

“Just feels…”

“Good?”

“Weird.”

“A good weird?” Shiro drags his tongue down his crack. 

“Sure. Yeah. A good weird,” he grunts. 

“Then just enjoy the treatment, beautiful. It’s not rare that I’m so generous.” He dips his tongue deep inside and curls his tip just right. “With you, anyway.”

Keith mewls into his fist, struggling to stay calm. He’s never done it before—sure blowjobs are one thing, but this? This hasn’t been something he’s considered before… 

Shiro continues to lick into his hole, thumbs massaging circles into Keith’s flesh to soothe him. Before long Keith’s hole is already slathered in spit and Shiro only keeps licking deeper until it brushed against— 

“—oh my god.” 

Shiro chuckles again. Deciding this is a good place to pull out that little trick. Maybe it might be too much?

Aw, who cares? Keith’s already had a demo of what to expect here… he might as well make things more exciting for him and spice it up since he’s gotten that bored. 

“I… holy… what is that?”Keith feels the expansion inside him already, and it’s not cock he’s replaced his tongue with, in fact Shiro didn’t replace his tongue at all. 

The wet muscle inside him has enlarged on its own, by Shiro’s wishes. Like a switch, even. Clearly Shiro is unable to respond with his mouth stuffed full with parts of his own tongue and the rest inching deep into Keith’s hole, so all Keith can do is just take it… and just feel it… 

Keith doesn’t know how to react, but he feels stretched and full, and it’s not with big cock. It’s just all tongue and it’s all weird and so wet and interesting and it’s… deviant and somehow naughtier for sure. Keith’s breath hitches for a moment before he breaks into little breathy whines and pants, trying to find a way to remain grounded but how can he when there’s an enlarged tongue—and by enlarged he means like a hot air balloon (as factitious as it sounds) inside his ass and repeatedly brushing along his prostrate—and holy fuck it just hits right every time and finally… 

“A-agh!” Keith shouts as he feels his hole squeeze around the muscle, body violently thrashing against the sheets. Shiro lets his tongue take a moment to completely deflate before withdrawing it, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. 

“Thank you,” Shiro murmurs; kissing either cheek. “I can do more…”

“No,” Keith breathes, exasperated, and he can sense Shiro’s hurt expression without turning his head to confirm it. “Not yet. I think you killed me.” 

“What do you need right now?”

“Food’s always an option.”

“Do you not want a bath? Or a massage?”

“Those are nice, too. You said you want to take care of me, right? Do what you know… takes care of me, I guess.”

“Glad you’re becoming more receptive of this. See how much easier it is for us, baby?” Shiro presses one more kiss to the small of his back before sliding off the bed. “That was good. I’m glad I can make you feel good, Keith.” 

Don’t get used to it, Keith thinks as Shiro strides out the door. Almost with a skip in his step, like this is the happiest he’s ever been. What? It’s not like Keith is worth anything. Keith just.. is, like he said. 

He just wants to be able to hear from his friends, or at least let them know he’s (for now) not in danger.

“Never expected you to be into all that snooping FBI stuff,” Kinkade has been looming over James’ shoulder for the entire duration of his personal project—which is really just finding out where the hell Keith Kogane could have ran off to. It’s not like him to just up and vanish, not really. He’s the sort of person to show up to everything, and he doesn’t just let some piece of garbage take him away. 

“Why are you looking up the guy you used to do that dead-end job for? He paid you lousily for someone worth billions…”

“Because apparently he has something to do with Kogane being missing.”

“Keith’s missing?” Kinkade blinks rapidly, “And you care that he’s missing?” 

“He’s still a human being, Ryan.”

“Yeah, but you guys hated each other’s guts, or that’s what it seemed like on the surface. Didn’t you know the guy since pre-school and became sworn enemies because Keith broke your fancy pastel Crayola set?”

“Yeah, I loved that set! Anyway, that was pre-school…” 

“So what changed your mind?”

“The fact that he just vanished like that! With no dirt on the guy who probably took him. And Shirogane suspiciously has a clean public image, but like any model philanthropist, he has a few skeletons in his closet.”

Ryan crosses his arms as he pulls away, grinning as an open opportunity arises. “And you would know. Your dad was a sleazy pastor.”

“Old news, man! The fucker’s in jail where he belongs, and Mom’s happily married to my lovely step-Mom.”

“It’s still wild that he did stuff like that for that long.” 

James sighs. “He had power over a small Iowa town. There’s a lot you can get away with when you have that much influence over the public.”

“No different with Shirogane here. What was he like when you worked with him?” 

“Regular,” he answers, scrolling down another line of Shirogane related articles, “Like any old guy, never mind his many achievements and milestones. But that’s how it always happens right? The ones who get away with things knew how to cover their tracks. How else would the Zodiac killer case not have been solved today?” James also finds a window of opportunity: “Or like how Amber Heard nearly got away with suing Johnny Depp for being a supposed #womenbeater?”

“The absolute audacity of that turd!”

James can’t help snorting. But then they both break out into hysterical laughing fits, Ryan clutching his sides until he nearly topples over the chair. 

“Okay but as perfect as those examples are, Turd failed in the sense that her lawyers were complete imbeciles.” 

“That’s true, but it provided excellent pop culture references.”

Ryan steps back and dramatically turns his head away, reenacting the infamous: “My dog stepped on a bee!”

“Objection!” James slaps his palm onto the table. “Hearsay.”

“Oh man…” Ryan laughs, “Okay, back to the matter at hand: what are you going to do about Shirogane?”

“Shiro’s not the only one with privilege, and he has to turn up sometime. So we’ll have to meet face to face.”

“Why are you sticking out for Keith like this? This is a side I haven’t seen in you since… well…” 

James gives a small smile. 

“I owe Kogane one.”

A million and one, more like…  

“My house is finally spotless,” Allura sighs in pure relief as she sinks into her now freshly dusted couch, happier than she has been in the last few days. 

Mission definitely accomplished, Hunk thinks as she joins her, handing her her frozen strawberry margarita that he specially made. 

“I think Lance is bunking at Matt’s… but he’s definitely in good hands, so don’t worry.”

“We can’t thank you all enough.”

“Dude! We’re your friends. You don’t have to thank us for the bare minimum!”

“Is Pidge still there?”

“Pretty sure she goes in and out of there, but I can’t imagine how unhappy Keith will be to see all of that mess.”

“That is when we find him. We’ll have time to spruce the place up. He’ll appreciate that, as much as he says he hates asking things of others.”

“It’s noble but also stubborn. Yes we get it Keith, you were born ambitious and skilled and independent and intelligent and thoughtful with a can of whoopass tacked on top of all of those blessings! That doesn’t mean it’s weak for you to ask for help or something. That’s actually sometimes one of the strongest things you can do, is to admit you’re vulnerable and that you’re stuck.” Hunk sips his sparkling water as he sits back, gazing at the ceiling. “Everyone understands what kind of person he is. What good of a person he is, it’s just him who doesn’t. I know he started from square one like everyone else, but he needs to loosen up. Stop taking everything so seriously, yeah? He’s done a lot of things for a lot of people. Many of whom didn’t deserve his kindness, and yet he gave it anyway, because that was the kind of model his dad gave him. And even after all of that, even doing all of those things and doing right by his way, he stays in that awful dilapidated nearly abandoned complex, and now he got abducted by some crazed psycho. Can’t he win for once? Like you know aside from his other commendable accomplishments?”

“He finds comfort in that we are there for him, Hunk. He knows we are worried, and that is what he fears the most as well. He doesn’t like to worry anyone. Especially—“

“—Lance won’t like us talking about that incident. Yikes.”

“I know. It frightens me to think about it. If Keith hadn’t been there on time…”

“Yeah, I know,” Hunk interjects, “Can’t believe that was over a whole decade ago…”

“It feels like a lifetime ago and yet…”

Hunk and Allura fall silent for a few moments. Allura clutches her drink and downs as much of it as she can, rush of sweetness overwhelming her tastebuds. She hasn’t had a drink in a while just because she doesn’t go out as much anymore. But she gets to enjoy these simple moments with an old friend and that’s more than she could need right now.

“I’m going to pour us some gin and tonic. Let’s just not think about shit for a while, and then check back with Pidge and Matt. Does that sound good?” Hunk asks after finishing his sparkling water in one, hard swig. He’s ready to get smashed and just forget reality for a little longer… 

“Yeah. That sounds perfect, Hunk.”

Chapter Text

It’s another hot, humid day in mid-August. The sun is as unforgiving on the public as ever, and as beautiful as the scenery may otherwise be, they’d rather not be directly in it. Like rain. The sound of rain of beautiful and melodious to most, the moody atmosphere it provides is great ambiance, maybe combined with a nice piping hot cup of cocoa, but no one ever wants to get soaked. 

Everyone’s coming in and out of the pub for the nice air-conditioning, the ambiance, the experience, the food… maybe a combination of the aforementioned. Nevertheless, business is still ever bustling, and Lance and Hunk can’t be happier in at least that aspect. 

Unfortunately, they still haven’t found anything in regards to where Keith might be, but they were shocked to reunite with James Griffin, who claims to want to help them out (as sketchy as that appears, Keith did save his life once, and gave his family a chance for a fresh start away from all of that fucked up shit that happened back at their old college town).

But just as things are getting to be at least a little bit sunnier, an unwelcome guest is seen in the security footage and Lance frowns. 

Shiro pushes through the doors as those present in the pub are alerted with its associated ding! of the bells. He doesn’t have Keith in tow, and Lance can feel his blood pressure skyrocket to the point where he’s certain some of his vessels might pop. 

“Look who it is—it’s the man of the hour.”

Lance isn’t alone on his shift, not this time. What a refreshing change actually to perform for an audience! Hunk’s working in the back. His lovely wife Allura is seated just across from him, drink in hand, with a bountiful plate of breakfast. Eggs smoked salmon Benedict, a mixture of vegetables… a cup of fruits there, too, even. How fancy. She must enjoy being treated like queen. 

Now if only Keith can see he deserves such treatment as well.

“Nice to see you all doing well,” Shiro settles into a seat next to Allura. “Must be hard to lose a friend like that.” 

“Why did you come back? We kicked you out.” 

“Bribed all of your authorities,” Shiro responds easily as he inspects his nails, ten steps ahead of them as ever. He’s also done thorough research on each and every one of Keith’s friends, knows how to hit them where it truly hurt them at their core. This isn’t a force they’d ought to reckon with, not if they want to live. “Now Lance, I think you had time to consider our deal—instead of getting involved, why not use this as an opportunity to expand this local pub into a global chain? I’ll happily fund everything, not without conditions. None of which should come as a surprise to…” His eyes flutter between everyone of Keith’s friends present. “…any of you.”

“That’s not going to be necessary,” a new voice interjects, away from Keith’s bustling crowd of over-protective soldiers. 

One Shiro recognizes, shockingly enough. A flash of annoyance is on his face but he does his best to mask it. The last thing he wants is to bring harm to any people Keith cherishes so much, but if it does have to come to such a level of atrocities… Shiro’s willing to do anything to keep Keith all to himself. 

“Griffin! It’s been a minute,” Shiro’s ever charismatic charm embodies his otherwise malicious, unpredictable character. “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Leaving them alone.”

“Now, Griffin, we’re all friends here. I’m merely only negotiating a partnership, one that would benefit them more than myself…” 

James scoffs in disbelief.

“We know you don’t do things out of the ‘goodness of your heart,’ so cut the shit.”

Shiro’s faux friendly expression falters. He doesn’t know how else to react, but suddenly the instantaneous, othering stares from Keith’s friends make him uneasy. He’s not going to show he’s a little intimidated, because for what reason does he have to be scared? There’s nothing any of them could do about Keith’s little… situation. He’s going to be stuck with him for as long as Shiro wants him there. The most his friends can do is just accept the status quo, or just accept the idea of a quid pro quo… a something for a something, something clearly mutually beneficial… 

“So what are you going to do? Actively put your friend in danger? Now I’m no mind reader by any means, but I’m sure that’s not what any of you want.”

Shiro’s eyes land on Allura, who has been visibly unnerved and silent throughout this entire exchange. Grinning, he leans in, nose just inches away from the crook of her neck. 

“Hello, pretty lady. I may like your friend, but you know, I don’t actually discriminate… body parts.” His hand snakes up her thigh. Even though she jerks away, Shiro’s hand only follows her.

Lance yanks him down onto the counter by the collar, jaw cracking as it meets the wood, before twisting him to face his dirction.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” Ah! So this little pussy has some balls in him, eh? 

Maybe it’s just Keith balls deep in him, still. There’s no way he’s got all that himself.

“I’m only carrying out my promise. You either abide by my rules, or I screw your wife.” Shiro grins as he feels Allura’s fear exude the atmosphere, and Lance’s grip visibly loosens. Shiro swats Lance’s hand off of his shirt, straightening the expensive Egyptian cotton. This is one of his favorite business outfits. Nothing better happen to it.

Ah, but it’s worth it to see what a wonderful reaction! Ever so appropriate. All of them have to be afraid of him when he wants them to play a little game of keep away. Stay away. All of them. It’s the only way to ensure Keith’s safety… 

Shiro pauses, pondering. Shrugging as he picks off dirt off from under his nail, he meets the challenging eyes surrounding him.

“Besides, your friend is safe. Somewhere.” 

“Where?” Allura challenges, “Where did you take him?” 

“Now pretty lady, I’m not going to give away such information that freely. This is all part of the fun. Once your friend learns a thing or two about himself, maybe he might be able to pay a few visits to you all. Besides, I’m not that much of a monster. Aren’t you taking good care of Kosmo while he’s gone?” 

“Fuck off.”

“Touchy,” Shiro replies, “Like your friend. You two really aren’t shy around each other, aren’t you, Lancey-Lance? All of that history together, and you haven’t explored anything beyond vanilla sex? No wonder you two broke up.”

“Fuck. Off.” Lance hates the fact that they’re even discussing their bedroom endeavors! What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom! And between them! Not whoever t his guy thinks he is! 

“Hope you know he’s being taken care of just fine where I have him held. He doesn’t have to spend so many lonely nights anymore. He’s got me now.”

“He doesn’t need you.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” He slips out a card and slides it toward Lance. “But anyway, do contact this number, when you’ve reached the conclusion that you can’t prevent the inevitable. I may just go outright and tear this entire damn place down.”

Shiro spins on the stool and pops right off, sauntering out the door. Hopefully this gets his purpose across, but once he’s out of sight… 

Lance picks up the card and shreds it, dunking it straight into the trash by his feet.

Shiro materializes by the door of Keith’s claimed bedroom, where Keith is still resting. He pokes his head through the cracked open door before stepping fully inside. 

Keith's head snaps up, furious.

“Where did you go?”

“I know it’s selfish of me, but you know I can’t remain here forever with you. I have to show up so people know I’m there.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I’m stuck here with nothing to do! You can’t just expect me to stay here.”

“I did tell you you had all the freedom if you just figured out how to—!” 

“—how to use the manifestation shit! Yeah, yeah! It’s the same damn excuse, but you’re not giving me any pointers.”

“Well you’re not giving me that promised interior design crash course. It’s the whole law of equivalent exchange.”

“Did you just make a Full Metal Alchemist reference?”

“Yes,” he replies, “You like that manga, do you not?” 

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“There is so much I know about you, Keith.” 

Keith perks an eyebrow then turns away, grimacing. “That isn’t creepy.” 

Shiro frowns, as if he’s not susceptible to sheer innocence. Strange given every event that has transpired since they’ve crossed paths… 

“Why’s it creepy?” 

Keith can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“This whole thing is creepy! You can’t be that oblivious.”

“I’m not!” Shiro defends,  “It’s just that I want you to feel…”

“At home? Like I’m ‘everything’?” He even draws air-quotes in sheer mockery of this whole affair! How the hell does he end up in this series of messed up coincidences that make up the entirety of his whole life? “How the hell can I be any of those things? I was already at home at my actual home.”

“Why do you want to go back there so bad?” 

“Why do you want me here so bad?” 

“Because there’s nothing for you there!”

“Well, there’s nothing for me here, either.”

“Then what is it do you actually want? There has to be more to you than this…”

“There isn’t. I just… am, Shiro. Why can’t you just let… let me just be?” 

“Because you just don’t know how good you are.” Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose, biting back an exasperated sigh. Clearly these methods aren’t working… does he have to take things up another notch? Maybe give Keith all of the power for today, let him play around, fish for what he can and can’t do? Actually there’s not a lot he can’t do around here… he just has to figure out how to work past it all. “Well I did promise your friends that you can go visit them… and I know how you must miss Kosmo. So if you actually continue to cooperate and commit to this, then that opportunity will come sooner than you think. How’s that sound?”

“Do you actually promise to let me see my friends, you asshole?”

“Now Keith, I’m a man of my word.” He rests his hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to follow through if you commit to this. Is that made clear?”

“Well seeing as I don’t have much of a choice…” 

“Now now. Enough of that defeatist attitude you keep sporting. I thought you were all fight and grit. Not all broody and moody.” 

“Whatever.”

Shiro mutters something under his breath before he descends on Keith, pinning him to his bed. He’s feeling a little friskier than usual, as if that isn’t already evidenced by how he’s treated Keith since he trapped him here.

But he decides now is time to take it up a notch, as promised—as ntended. Wherever appropriate. Whatever it takes.

“In case you have forgotten, you have about as much power as I grant you here.” A hand moves down to unzip his pants, pulling out his cock, stroking it to harden. “Maybe we should put that insolent mouth of yours to better use.” 

“Why not take that puny dick of yours and shove it up your own—!” 

Shiro tightens his grip around his neck, constricting him. “You watch that mouth.” 

Or he’ll put that far from puny dick down his throat instead.

At least that’s his plan, until he sees the worried, fearful expression on Keith's gorgeous face, lips quivering like a wimp he’s otherwise not known to be.

Shiro’s hands pry off of him, and he composes himself, stuffing his ‘pride’ back into his pants which now feel strained against it. He’ll take care of that himself. 

“You’re not going to follow through?” Keith murmurs, trying but failing to hide the quivery lips and shimmery welling eyes. 

“No.” Shiro turns away. “No fun this way. I’m supposed to keep you safe here.”

“From what?” Keith replies, “There’s nothing to ‘protect’ me from except—!” 

You, actually, Keith wants to finish that statement but he knows when to keep his mouth shut. Why is he also plagued by an overwhelming tidal wave of guilt and shame? 

Almost as if he and Shiro are two sides of the same coin.

And then realization strikes. A mind game, is it not? That’s how Shiro keeps calling all of this… but everything in front of him, is tangible, just another world to inhabit away from his known reality. It’s all real, not imagined or anything, no matter how much Keith wills all of this not to exist… 

“You don’t know what’s beyond all of what you think you know, Keith.” 

“Well yeah,” Keith nods, “It’s almost like that’s the case for 100% of humanity.”

“You’re quite the smart mouth, eh?” Shiro shakes his head. “You…” He bites back another sigh. “I’ll be back. I am keeping my promise. When we… work things out better, you can see your friends. I can bring Kosmo here. It’s not fair to the dog.”

“To the dog,” he scoffs, “But not to me, apparently. Or to any of my friends.”

“You can find what you need from friends in me, Keith.”

“You’re not my friend.” Keith leans back into the headboard of his bed. “You’re not even worthy of being an enemy—just a thorn to my side. I didn’t ask to be put into this situation, but here we are. For some reason I have to endure the consequences of some chance encounter with a self-obsessed weirdo.”

“Self-obsessed?” Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up. “Where in all of this have I behaved self-obsessed?”

“Are you serious?” He gestures to the room, to himself. “Are you fucking serious?!”

Shiro’s expression darkens, morphing into an almost murderous one. It’s not one he wishes to sport on Keith, but if he must… 

“Watch that smart mouth of yours.”

“Or what?” he laughs, “You’ll wring more orgasms out of me or something?” 

“Well now that you mention it, I have been far too kind in that regard.”

“’Kind’?” Keith can’t compose himself between a series of laughs. “God you’re hilarious. Kind. You’ve been so kind to me. Oh my God. Right.”

“Oh? You think how I’ve been treating you is so unfair, right?” Shiro strides toward the bed again, snatching one of Keith’s knees and pulling him toward him until they’re staring at eye level at each other. 

“You haven’t endured the worst of what I can do to you.”

“You’re all talk and no walk.”

Shiro’s grip tightens. Chuckling, his other hand reaches up to wrap around Keith’s neck. 

“Don’t get so cocky, Keith. It’s not a good look on you,” Shiro presses an affectionate kiss on his nose. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Chapter Text

A somehow comfortable and unnerving silence has fallen upon Shiro and Keith since their last exchange. Keith is just fiddling with a thread sticking out of the comforter as Shiro observes him, examining every feature, his every unique, beautiful feature, while thinking of what they can do next. How he can make this easier on them both. 

Finally, something inside him snaps, because Keith’s been playing with that lone thread for minutes too long and Shiro can’t stand another moment of silence between them. He wants Keith’s attention any and all of the time, and Keith cant possibly find a loose thread more interesting than his company! 

That sounds as absurd in his mind as it might if he said it out loud. 

“Call me selfish—“

“—you are,” Keith snarks, and Shiro frowns. 

But continues completing his thought anyway, knowing full well how uninterested Keith is. This may make him cooperate more to get what he wants. 

“But let’s wait a while longer until you get to see them. You’re getting closer to understanding how this works.”

“Ugh,” he snaps his head away. “And you say you’ve only been so kind to me since you got here.”

“Have I not been?”

“Are you serious?”

Shiro sighs. Keith really is all fight and grit and taking no shit. As admirable as those traits are, it makes him the most unpleasant person to interact with most of the time. Even if while being difficult he’s fucking adorable at the same time. 

Shiro just wants them to work out. To be happy together. Keith’s not showing he’s following through on his part of the deal. Shiro has expected it, but it’s been long enough, and Shiro has hoped Keith believed that there had been something between them, after all. 

So much for that—maybe he’s wrong about this. This whole approach. Yes, he is being selfish. Incredibly. But he’s come this far into it and having Keith like this for himself is as gratifying as he had always believed it would be. 

It’s just not as fun when Keith is like this. Defiant. Ungrateful. Unhappy. 

Worst of all he’s still unhappy. With him. 

That can’t fly. 

“Keith…” 

“What? What can you possibly do or say at this point?”

“You are beginning to understand how this works. You’re getting closer,” he explains, “There’s a trick to how this works.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” he spats, “You just are being as vague as you have been since day one about this shit. You apparently aren’t even of my known world, which is a concept I’m still struggling to wrap my head around.”

Now Shiro is finally displaying more irritation. 

“Humans,” he mutters, “As simple as you are stubborn.” 

“Hey!”

“Am I not just speaking the truth?”

“What happened to me somehow standing out among all of them?” Like he’s the Chosen One in some weird young adult novel, like in The Hunger Games or Harry Potter. If he waits his whole life to be the hero or to be someone chosen or special, he’d be waiting his whole life and then never make his own choices. That’s why he can’t buy into any of what Shiro is helplessly trying to sell him—it doesn’t work. 

Not in his own reality, and not in this world of his, either. Magical or tangible or not.

“You still do,” he insists, “It’s just that there are many things you need to unlearn about them and how they live. You people aren’t curious, even those among you who are clearly smart. None of you can seem to grasp anything beyond your known reality.”

“It is all of how we choose to make it.”

“Then here, it’s no different. These limitations you claim to have are all self-imposed. You can change the situation as soon as you’d like. You just won’t allow yourself to see what’s right in front of you.”

“What does that even mean? That’s still way too vague of a hint dammit.”

“You will come to an understanding soon enough.” Shiro pants Keith’s knee. “But for now, spread your legs for me.” 

“What?” 

“Do as your told, beautiful. You want to be good, right?” 

“And do I actually get an incentive out of this?” 

“If you just do as I say, then yeah.” His mouth parts, drooling as he glances at his lap. “Just want some of that dick in my mouth.” 

Keith’s face twinges pink, but accepts in spite of himself, working his pants off in no time flat. Probably something Shiro appreciates. 

Not like he actually has a choice on the matter.

It hasn’t been a great run. 

Literally and figuratively speaking—Lance is out on a prescribed ‘mental health run’ as pushed by Allura, who is probably more than ten feet ahead of him. 

And Lance, in spite of his own set of trials and tribulations thrown at him, is beginning to feel the light go out from his eyes the longer Keith is missing. Somewhere. No leads, nothing. As many times as Shirogane has shown up, he hasn’t dropped any hints of where he has kept him. Only comes around to keep them on their toes and on edge. 

Lance hasn’t taken him up on his offer. He refuses to. It’s not in his DNA to bail on a friend in need, and Keith something more than that. Maybe no longer romantically, but so what? He’s still special to the people surrounding him. Even to Shiro, something it pains Lance to say they all share. Each and every one. Himself. Allura. Matt. Pidge. Hunk. Kosmo. 

Even Griffin, something he still can’t believe—maybe all of that past homophobia and taught misogyny and bigotry truly was shielding him from embracing his authentic self. His perverted old man is locked in jail for eternity anyway, old memories from a distant past he’d rather not revisit. If not for any of those series of events, though, he may not have ever built the foundation he has now. 

He may never have found himself standing up ever again. Keith is not just his friend. Or a past flame. He’s his rock. 

He’s the rock to the whole lot, honestly. That’s what makes him special. It’s not the titles someone bears or the amount of money they make. It’s all in their character, knowing what they bring to the table but never showboating such things. Readily giving. Readily compromising. 

“Lance,” Allura pants as they stop by the water fountains. She’s dabbing the sweat away from her face with a heated towel. “You’re five minutes behind again this time.” 

“Ugh.” Lance exaggerates his disdain for her sake. “Not again!” 

“Well, maybe we need to work on your speed later. It’s not that important, but you were faster than me before.”

“I know,” he sighs, “Just letting myself fall behind.”

“Yes, but I don’t see you making any effort to change it. You know what the doctor said the last visit.”

Lance mutters a slew of his mother tongue slang and curses. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a little hard to stay motivated, lately…” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to consider…?” 

“Going back to therapy?” Lance asks between sipping out of the water fountain. “Hell no. There’s always way too much of a disconnect. I can never seem to make them understand everything. Not only what just happened with Keith, but literally just… everything. How do you explain to them that the world’s richest man took your friend and we can’t pin anything on him because to the whole globe, he’s got a blank slate? He’s got a clean record. No one would believe us.”

“Don’t you remember Griffin offering to counter everything?”

“What the hell is GRIFFIN going to do that we haven’t already tried?” Lance’s face softens from its usual laid back, goofy expression. The pain behind his eyes comes full circle, and he can feel the pang in his heart because Allura can’t handle him like this. Grieving. Guilty. Shamed. Disgraced. “Shiro’s already threatened you on multiple occasions. I can’t have anything happen to you too.”

“Lance,” she tries, “You know he doesn’t truly terrify me.”

“He didn’t terrify Keith much either, and here we are. You can’t underestimate the guy.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Allura’s eyes are downcast, pondering. Observing as the blades of grass gently brushes against the other with each light gust of wind or any time she takes a step. Anything to push her cognition, to gauge anything that may be useful. She can’t. No matter what she does, she can’t rack her mind for a solution. 

“Even Matt and Pidge are at a loss of how to proceed. Father can’t help. He’s terrified of Shiro as he should be. We don’t know anything about him other than what he wants the world to think…”

“So what do we do to change that?” Lance inquires, striding past her as he observes other break of dawn joggers further down the path, running toward the horizon, as if chasing after their own solutions to their world’s problems. “How can we bring it to light? The guy’s a fucking creep and a pervert. He’s… crude, but not a monster if he’s against animal cruelty.”

“Does he truly deserve redemption points for sparing the dog?”

Lance waves his hands and shakes his head. 

“No, he’s still a whole bucket of dicks. Just saying we can’t really put him in any Cluster B personality disorders.”

“Holding off on the narcissistic one, are we?” 

“Sometimes people are just whole assholes, Allura. He just knows what he can get away with because of the money.”

“Money and power certainly corrupts,” she concedes. “We are doing what we can in our control, Lance.” She approaches him from behind, leaning in to peck his cheek. Lance sighs and places his hand over where her lips met his skin. Shoulders relax and tension banishes as Allura grips his elbow. “We will continue to be proactive in returning Keith to us. But we cannot allow ourselves to slip either. The last thing he wants from either of us is to lose sight of our own responsibilities that don’t involve him.”

“But we can’t just…” Lance glances at Allura. “We can’t just leave it here like this.”

“We aren’t,” she squeezes his arm. “I promise. We won’t stop thinking about how to approach this matter. But we need room to take care of ourselves too. It’ll be a disrespect to Keith if we don’t.”

“I know, but not knowing where he is or if he’s okay is killing me. I don’t think Shiro killed him. But he kept him away from us for this long…” 

“It truly is killing you, and me,” she admits, “I cannot always be headstrong in this, either… I can’t even think what kind of things Shiro is doing to Keith right now.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s go home and hit the showers.”

“At the same time?” he teases. 

“You say it like he’s scandalous, but we’re married.”

“Can’t help it,” he laughs as their hands join, feeling like that same shy schoolboy all over again. “Still can’t believe I have you.”

“Shiro, nnngh.” 

Too occupied by having his lips nestled between Keith’s testicles to acknowledge his complaints, Shiro continues licking at the skin there. Keith’s breath sharpens, heightening in pitch with each swipe of Shiro’s admittedly skilled tongue. Keith can’t hold back the embarrassed whimper as Shiro ventures lower, down his perineum, shivering at the contact of his wet muscle and the spit left behind. 

“It’s… this is fucking gross,” Keith comments, shooting a daring look down at Shiro. His face heats when their eyes meet, Shiro still lazily drawing patterns with his tongue stretched wide out of his mouth. 

He withdraws it for a moment. “Gross, you say? Then why are you so turned on?” 

A deeper flush. “Because it’s… embarrassing!” 

Shiro grins, and Keith only returns his expression with one of annoyance. 

“You’re turned on from being embarrassed?” 

“No! That’s not what I—! Ugh!” 

Shiro hums as he sucks on his scrotum, eliciting a shout and for Keith’s hips to roll. 

Shiro’s tongue continues to inch slowly out of his mouth, almost as if it’s bottomless in its length and girth. It snakes around Keith’s cock until it’s constricted from balls to tip. The tip of his tongue is still lapping eagerly around the head, and Keith is at a loss for words or sounds to make.

“Don’t… please—!” 

“What’s that? You don’t want me to stop?” Shiro somehow manages to produce a second tentacle from his mouth, prodding at Keith’s puckered hole. And somehow he’s speaking to him without using his mouth. 

Telepathy. Like he’s a siren or something. 

“No…” Keith murmurs, feeling his body become like rubber. He’s gone numb but is still so hyper-aware of every touch, every brush, every sensation. 

“Thought so.” 

The curious second tongue tentacle prodding at his over-sensitive hole pushes inside, a softer intrusion yet still sudden, and Keith’s eyes roll back, head pressing further against the satin sheets. 

He can’t take any of this. 

“Don’t want you to come. Not yet.” The tentacle attending to Keith’s cock tightens its grip, operating more as a cock ring. The sister tentacle is still pumping at Keith’s hole, gradually increasing its size in girth and intensity in thrusts. 

“But I need… to—please—!” 

“Please what, beautiful boy?” 

“Please let me…”

“Use your words, baby.”

“More—please—need to—!”

“Need what?” 

The feelings inside him build until he’s an embodiment of everything happening in that moment. Feelings inside of him he can’t name. Only accept. Only experience. Keith can’t last another second, and Shiro, as crude as he is merciful, allows him to come all over both tongues, hole clamping on one, a mess of seed spilling on his other. 

And yet he withdraws both, shameless, unable to get enough of his taste as Keith is still jerking and moaning and recovering through the much needed relief.

“Do you see how much easier this is for us, baby?” 

Keith looks away, face still pink. 

“Hey,” Shiro reaches for his face and jerks it toward him, making Keith meet his eyes. “We’re not done.” 

“No,” he breathes, “No more.” 

“Yes, more. You are mine.” He presses a dirty, sloppy kiss to his lips. “Just mine.” One of his hands reaches down to stick a finger up Keith’s abused hole. “God, even your body is working against you. It clearly wants this all the time.” 

“No.” He manages through an involuntary moan, and Shiro only responds adding two more fingers accompanying as they stretch him. 

“Please, Shiro. It hurts—!” 

“—I don’t want that for you, baby. I’ll take care of you, remember?”

“Then stop.”

The force and pain and fear in his protest alone is enough. Shiro withdraws his fingers, grabbing a nearby microfiber wash cloth to clean both himself and Keith up. Keith can’t explain the phenomenon. It’s truly almost as if the stronger his will is, the more compliant and complacent Shiro becomes himself. 

Like it’s two sides of the same coin—the both of them. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, not making any eye contact—and is that regret in his tone? Keith blinks the befuddlement out of his system. 

“I know you are,” is all he says, but he scrambles away, backing to the furthest spot on the bed away from Shiro. 

“Do you… want to know how they’re doing?“ 

Keith’s ears perk up, but he also knows better. He scrutinizes Shiro, hoping to detect any hint of deception, but no. Shiro seems… actually cooperative, finally, in this aspect. Keith’s wanted nothing else. He misses them. All of them. Each and every one. And Shiro takes him away from everything that makes him who he is. 

“You haven’t taught me how to.” 

“But you’re catching on. I can see it. Your eyes show it.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, and as if to test his working theory… “You want to take care of me. You know what will help? Seeing them.” 

“I want to,” he says. “This serves you as much as it does me.” 

“Then show me.” 

“But I…”

“Show me, Shiro. You said you’re a man of your word.” Keith’s resolve only strengthens. “Show me you want to take care of me. Really take care of me.” 

“I will, but first you must serve me.”

“You said—!”

“I know what I said,” Shiro snatches him into his lap and rubs his hardening cock between Keith’s plump ass cheeks. “And I want this. You’re already so stretched…” The intrusion of the head of his cock inside earns him an adorable whimper. Shiro inches more and more of his impressive size until Keith’s fully seated on him. “You don’t have to move. Neither do I.”

“But I want you to see how beautiful you look like this,” His hand feels huge compared to Keith’s neck as it secures around it, turning his head toward the mirror. Keith can’t look. Keith doesn’t want to look but he can’t be defiant now. In spite of himself he manages a small peek at his reflection showing how putty in Shiro’s arms he appears when that’s not he feels inside. Not before his eyes fully open and drinks in a humiliating sight. 

“You want to see your friends?” Shiro murmurs into his ear. The real time reflection of them morphs into a real time display of Lance and Allure, still at the park on their usual morning jog. Keith doesn’t know what they’re talking about but he can take a stab at it and figure something about him disappearing without a trace. Lance looks the most sullen Keith’s ever seen him. Allura looks like she’s struggling to keep the two of them afloat. 

The image vanishes. 

“No!” Keith cries, “Lance! Allura!”

“Stay put, baby. You stay good and you get to see more.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh?” Shiro jerks his hips upward, and Keith gasps, already hitting his sweet spot. “Have we forgotten who wields the power?”

“Y-you,” he replies.

“And?” he pushes with another snap of his hips. 

“You only share with me.”

“Good boy,” he purrs as he kisses his head. “Now what do you want?”

“To come.”

“Hm?” Shiro kisses down to his ear, nibbling on his lobe. 

“Please.” 

“Of course, my beautiful baby. Just want to take care of you.”

Later that night, Allura wakes up in a cold sweat. Flashes of the dream—or vision—still fresh in her mind. Keith is somewhere. Keith is alive. Shiro isn’t necessarily torturing him, but he isn’t being kind to him, either. They’re not in their world. 

Shiro’s not even of this world. 

Allura slips out from under the covers, careful not to disturb Lance as he’s curled up close with Kosmo, both bonded by their mourning for a mutual loved one. 

That and Kosmo prefers Lance over her, anyway. 

He’s still alive. Allura thinks. He’s still alive—that matters, that counts! 

She finds another room out of earshot and pulls out her cell. This is going to be something she’ll discuss with Lance in the morning, but she has promised reporting to Griffin of anything like this. It’s so odd how such things come in full circle. Such events like these haven’t occurred in years, not since their personal experiences, but that only means they understand how to fight back. 

“Hello?” Allura hears over the other line. 

“You were right. He is in that realm. The one your father tried so hard to gain access to.” 

And my father actively preventing from it being accessed by the wrong people… 

“Ha! And then there’s our lead. Perfect. We still need you for a lot of this, and thank you for working with me in spite of—well—everything.”

“You are more honest of a man than you give yourself credit for, James.”

“Anything to undo the sins of my deadbeat dad.” 

“You aren’t responsible for his crimes.” 

“But I still feel responsible. Therein lies the problem.” He sighs, “I still owe Keith—all of you really—everything. You gave us a new beginning.” 

“We are just grateful you were able to come out of it. You and your mother. How is she?”

“Living the dream.”

“Glad to hear it,” she giggles, “Keith will appreciate this too.”

“Don’t know about that…”

“James, he truly does. Sometimes what someone shows on their face isn’t what they are feeling. He may not outright show anything, but he truly does consider you among those he loves.” 

The other line falls silent for a moment. 

“Heh. Even after our… history?”

“He still dated Lance.”

Now James is laughing. “Okay, that’s fair.” 

“Well, until tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah.” Click. 

He feels like he’s ascended. 

After a several more pumps, Keith has lost it. Clamping down hard around him, shuddering as the sensation takes over his mind and body. He hasn’t come like that, ever, in his life. Size matters less than how well he can use his size, which is something that kept things rather lackluster in the bedroom with past flames… 

“What’s that?” It’s like Shiro read his mind. “You admit that I’m the better lover?”

Oh. So actually he reads his mind. 

“No. You just actually know what you’re doing,” he deadpans, “Your whole package is still just okay.”

“Ever so hard to please,” Shiro isn’t rushing in pulling out. He still keeps Keith seated on him. 

“You ever going to take that thing out?” 

“Nope.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“You have to keep it warm for the next round.” 

“I can’t. God, can’t we do anything else besides fuck?” 

Shiro’s whole self visibly brightens. 

“You want to do other things with me?”

“Well yeah, this can’t be the only thing you want to do.”

“No. I can cook too. And bake. And give you baths.” Shiro presents a wolfish grin. “Even the kitty kind.” 

“Ugh.” But Keith doesn’t say he’s opposed to the idea. “Nothing sexual for a while. God, please.” 

“Even massages?”

“Massages don’t have to be sexual,” Keith points out. 

“True.”

“But seriously. Get that thing out of me or it’s getting chopped off.” 

“That won’t be possible.”

“Why not?” Keith sighs, “Actually you know what, please don’t answer that. I really don’t want to find out…” 

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Shiro teases as he pulls Keith off of his cock. Keith’s eyes widen and he blushes as he looks away. He hasn’t even gotten that good of a look and he really is huge. Pornstar huge. 

“What?” Shiro tilts his head as he fondles his own cock. “Like what you see?” 

Keith’s even more embarrassed, shutting his eyes. He can feel his soul being knocked out of his body the more he engages with this whole bucket of dicks before him. 

Well, he’s not staring at a whole bucket of dicks. Just one, really big, really huge, really juicy dick. And god fucking dammit he also had primal, sexual urges he needs to relieve himself! 

“Shut up.”

Shiro looks hopeful. “But you do?”

Keith sneaks another glance. “Maybe.” 

“What are you thinking?” Alright now Shiro’s seriously prying, but Keith may as well say so. 

“Thinking maybe I should return the favor sometime.” 

Shiro’s overjoyed. But he maintains himself. 

“Sometime or right now?”

“Maybe it would have been now if you didn’t just kill me.”

Shiro chuckles, “Then how about all of those things and plenty of food? And then we can finally talk about arranging to see your friends. I told you, I’m a man of my word, and we can take Kosmo in. I think it’s already been three months since I took you here.” 

Keith pauses before he explodes in retaliation. 

“THREE MONTHS? You kept me here for three months! Oh my God,” Keith tries not to panic. “Oh my God. Here it only feels like a few days.”

“Time works differently where we are. And the aging process doesn’t apply like in your world.” 

“Well goody fucking gumdrops,” Keith buries his face into his hands. “That visit is way long overdue.”

Shiro’s already fixed himself. “I know. Well you rest up. I’ll go get your things ready.”

Chapter Text

Shiro can’t believe it. They’re actually snuggling for aftercare. Beyond the bountiful arrangement of food and treats Shiro prepared for him and all of the massages and other spoiling Keith can ever want. 

This means he’s getting somewhere. Keith’s letting himself be spoiled, as he deserves to be. He has to see that he doesn’t need to be punishing himself so much like this anymore.

“You’re not so bad a cook”—Keith’s speaking as if he’s not inhaling the gourmet feast before him, right now working on some wagu Shiro cooked to perfection—“Could get used to this.”

“As you deserve to,” Shiro leans in to peck the top of his head. And either his mind is playing tricks on him or Keith’s relaxing with him. No locked shoulders, no tension, no nothing… “This is all I’ve wanted for you from the start. You were just too stubborn to accept it.”

“Yeah, yeah, kiss the fattest part of my ass.”

“I definitely can among other things.”

“Ugh! That was not meant to be sexual. Remember what I said about nothing sexual for a while! Seriously! I still can’t feel my legs. I feel like I just did 12 hours of nonstop combined cardio and weight training…” 

Shiro chuckles as he moves to kiss his cheek. “You may as well have. But the question is will you be able to be satisfied with just Lance and Allura as your sexual partners now?”

“Ugh,” Keith nearly chokes on some of the potato salad. “Can you just please stop bringing up my sexual prowess? That had nothing to do with you and now suddenly you’re making it your problem—”

“—It’s definitely not a problem.”

“Then why did you threaten Lance away from me? Hm? Like I’m your property or something, which was never established, might I add.”

“But I told you—!”

“—I don’t fucking care if you can do whatever you want to here, there, wherever. Stop dragging them into it. Whatever you want from me, get it from me without making their lives more miserable than they definitely already are since I left. Remember? You said you want to take care of me. That’s another whole part of it.”

“Of course, Keith. I only want to take care of you.” Shiro brushes his fingers through a stray strand of hair that fell over Keith’s forehead. “You really are everything, Keith. You know?” 

“I don’t know,” Keith sighs, setting aside a finished plate stacked along with multiple others. Keith really does have an unmatched appetite. “It’s one thing to tell me and another thing to show that to me. My friends? They show me by how loyal they are. They’re always there for me. And there’s no transactional shit between us either. Not really. We’ve been through so much together that I doubt something like you could ever understand or grasp because you lack such sentimentality.”

“Then what do you propose I do to show you that you mean everything?”

“First of all, honor your promises, like me visiting my friends and bringing Kosmo back. If I don’t have another choice than to be stuck here with you until you’ve proved whatever point you’ve been meaning to make with me, then that’s the very fucking least you can do. Second of all, stop trying to impose so much sexual favors on me. I don’t want it most of the time. I’m not even thinking about it until you pull all of those magical shit that for all that I know could have hidden aphrodisiacs or something to make me more complacent. There is such a fucking thing as non sexual intimacy or did you not learn that in those short years living as a physical entity in the human realm?”

“Well of course I know non sexual intimacy exists,” Shiro sighs, “I just like making you feel good like that…” 

“There are other ways. Like those massages. Or bubble baths with epsom salt. Or… you know. Food! Food’s always my biggest love language.” Lance and Hunk both know that all too well themselves. 

“But I just like physical anything…” 

“Okay. Then what about physical touch? You know, like here, we’re just kissing and snuggling. We can do that and it doesn’t have to lead to anything like…” Keith’s blushing thinking about it. “Earlier…” He can’t believe he’s even asking the follow-up: “How can you do that with your tongue anyway?”

Keith glances at Shiro’s crotch before promptly looking straight ahead into the wall before him. “…Can you do that with your dick?”

“Of course I can,” Shiro scoffs like it’s obvious. Which of course it is, but Keith can’t help but want his curiosity sated with a verbal response. “Why? Did you want to try it sometime?” 

“…Yeah.”

Shiro clearly hasn’t anticipated a willing yes. But here they are!

Shiro finds himself grinning almost too wide, and Keith has to admit that it’s actually a cute look on him if he actually smiles that way. Strained, sure, and a little awkward, but they can work on making him appear less… 

…well, manic.

“Wait. Seriously?” 

“Yeah. You’ve already did it with the tongue. I’m more interested in cock, by the way, but tongue is good too.”

“I really do want to do more soon.”

“God. Not now. Not for a while, I said.”

Shiro sinks down into his lap, burying his face into the space between his legs and whines a little in protest. Keith’s eye twitches as Shiro’s nose bumps into his crotch and he groans. 

“Shiro, remember what I said about keeping your promises.” 

“But Keiiith…” Shiro’s mouthing helplessly at the clothes blocking his way to his desired destination. Keith’s shivering but he tries to remain as composed as possible. 

“No. We agreed on later. My body needs time to recover. I still need time to adjust.”

Shiro moans and keeps his face pressed into Keith’s crotch, like he’d happily die there. 

“Fine. Later. But I get to decide when ‘later’ is.” 

“No. That’s not what we agreed on. My body needs to recover.”

“Fine…”

Shiro pries himself up with his elbow and their lips meet for a brief kiss. Keith returning the affection for once makes Shiro all aflutter, more than Keith already had. 

“I’m glad you liked the food. What do you want to do now?”

“Can you just hold me like you were before? And we can just… stay like that?”

Shiro rests his head against Keith’s knee. “That’s really all you want?” 

Keith’s bangs are shielding his eyes a little, lips upturned into a gentle, vulnerable smile. “…Yeah. That’s all I want.”

“Then that’s all I want to be doing now.”

“Allura?” Lance sleepily enters the study as she’s flipping through stacks upon stacks of documents on the desk. He slowly comes to life as he ambles toward her. “Baby, what are you doing up so early?” 

“We have a lead,” Allura responds as her eyes rapidly scan each stack. “Griffin sent me all of these updates.”

“What? Griffin? What does Griffin have to do with any of this?”

“Many things. My father was involved with his until he realized Pastor John’s true intentions.”

“Wait—you mean all of that weird shit about the Beyond or whatever? That whole cult-y shit he pulled?”

“Yes, precisely,” she breathes, grinning as she spots the set of documents which held the necessary information. “We learned that Shiro is one of those creatures they attempted to summon.”

She gestures for him to come take a look, pointing at the figures, the images, the graphs… 

“Father labeled these sentient beings ‘Druids’. There isn’t much we know about them, only that the closest thing to modern lore these creatures resemble are tulpas.” 

“Tulpas?” Lance pipes in, raising an eyebrow. “Like imaginary friends, or something?” 

“Yes. Except they aren’t imaginary. They willed themselves into being. Somehow.”

“So these… Druids,” the name clearly sounds foreign rolling off of his tongue. “They didn’t exist before, at least not physically—and one day they’re just a physical entity? Not birthed out of a womb or something like we are?”

“Essentially, yes. They are known as the protectors of the Beyond, which is what most religious folks would describe as their own heaven or hell. They are what we believe are angels or demons, or devils. Either they are peaceful or malevolent or in some gray area. They can take on any form they wish to. They can merely be the energy that surrounds us, or among the birds chirping outside…” 

“The fact that this stuff exists still just blows my mind,” Lance mutters, “What about those weird ‘paranormal encounters’ people always talk about, like the Annabelle doll, or the Conjuring, the Babadook, or I don’t know, The Haunting in Connecticut and things like that?” 

Allura nods, pulling out her laptop from the drawer and booting it up. “Likely these creatures are involved in all of those.” 

Lance falls silent for a few moments, blinking. As if still unsure whether any of this is truly legit, well, it’s not like he has any reason not to believe such things. They have all been witnesses of such things, just as they are witnesses of seeing such evil be performed as a result… 

“Fairy sightings?” he presses to feed his endless curiosity. “I don’t know, Slender Man? Big Foot? Other cryptids?”

“Yes. Maybe not all occurrences we have been made to believe, but that is what Father’s job is—not only to protect the Beyond, but to understand more about it. He was seen as worthy by one of their Great Protectors, that White Lion we saw, if you remember…” 

Lance sighs. “Yeah, I do. These are things about everything I’d rather not remember seeing as I almost got skinned alive.” 

Allura winces. 

“Sorry. See? I hate talking about it.”

“I know. But we have to revisit it since this holds a connection to where Keith might be held hostage. There are many tiers to the Beyond,” Allura is scanning the notes she printed out from Griffin’s documents, pointing at a paragraph she highlighted and annotated herself. “Just like the theories of eight layers of Hell or ten layers of Heaven. There is also the in between, the astral realm, which have six tiers, according to what Griffin’s father and mine discovered…” 

Lance can’t shake the disgust pooling in his gut, but he suppresses it—they have to revisit it, she’s right. It’s their only lead right now.

“So why was Pastor John so obsessed with finding this place?”

“Because he saw it by accident. His essence was mistaken for someone like my father. And since then, he tried every trick in the book to try to get another way to access it. There he realized he held unlimited power. He believed he essentially was God.”

“So the sacrificing of anything that goes against the idea—or his idea—of pure souls. So anything not white, Christian, and straight, basically. And obedient. And turns a blind eye to everything sinister that ever occurs in a small town…” 

“Precisely,” Allura deadpans, “It’s still much to unpack, even years later, isn’t it? Truly the wrong person gets even a taste of unfathomable power, and things like that happen…”

“Yeah,” he spats, “Like this sexy mother-fucker almost getting skinned, Allura. Skinned! Like sacrificed chickens or goats!” 

His whole body shudders at the revisiting of that unwanted core memory. 

Fucking weird ass cults and their unshakable beliefs…even when the truth was right in front of them!

“Well…” Allura takes a moment to organize messier stacks. “There is much information to sift through and this would be more up Matt, Pidge, and Hunk’s alley. I did invite Griffin as well to discuss this.”

“Seriously? Over wine and charcuterie boards?” 

“Lance, please,” she sighs, “Let go of the pettiness—you know how guilty he is.”

“Well he needs to recompense for his gross dad’s sins.”

“He’s actively been doing that since then.”

Lance crosses his arms. “Right. Because he was always so saintly before.”

“He was as much a victim as the rest of us were!”

Lance deflates, hardened expression softening. “Okay, you’re right. I know I’m being unfair. I mean, you know, he—does all that, unknowingly leading Keith into being involved in all of it too.”

“He sorely regrets it all,” she replies, “And the least we can do is be gentle on him. Be kind to him because he has been to us. He’s left us alone but now he wants to return the favor. Even after everything that had happened, Keith gave him and his mother a chance at a normal life. If we are going to get him back, we have to honor that too.”

He nods, even if he’s still against the idea: “This is only for Keith’s sake, but man…” 

“You know, if not for the sort of character Keith has, he wouldn’t have given you a chance, either.”

“Ouch. Even more psychological warfare.” Lance waves an invisible white flag. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Let’s just see how far we can get today. How do we feel about a full English breakfast this morning?” 

“Is the topic of Griffin putting you in the mood?”

“Maybe—him and his English ass.”

Allura shakes her head, but is chuckling in spite of herself. “You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“You love me for it.”

“I do, and for millions more reasons.”

“Awwwwww.”

Allura rolls her eyes as she walks up to him, resting her hands on his chest and leaning in for a brief kiss. 

“You brat.” 

“Like I said, you love me for it.”

This may be the happiest Shiro’s felt in his short physical existence. 

All he’s doing is holding Keith. Giving him what he needs, what he deserves. His arms are secured around his waist, encompassing him in his own warmth. Keith’s already peacefully slumbering in his arms. No more hostility toward him, no fighting, no talking back, nothing. Just pure bliss in his sleep, right in Shiro’s arms. Shiro doesn’t want to disturb him, either. Just wants him to stay like this. Happy. Content.

Happy and content with him. Shiro can’t believe it.

That’s all Shiro’s wanted from the beginning. Crude as his methods are, that was the only way he knew of to show affection, but Keith’s presented him more windows to opportunities… and this may get Keith to trust him more. 

With that in mind, Shiro rests his hand onto Keith’s forehead, as it begins to glow in a a light purple aura. Keith can see his friends, physically, in real time, in his dreams here, like he intelligently predicted before. It’s not exactly what Shiro promised but he can’t have him leave this realm just yet. There’s still much Keith has to learn about himself and to accept. Shiro’s going to help him realize nothing that has ever happened to him was h is fault. Ever. No matter who has made him feel like he doesn’t deserve the world—no—the universe.

Keith stirs a little, shifting positions in his hold. Shiro’s heart melts. 

Mine. He thinks. My beautiful boy… 

Afternoon tea time with Griffin is awkward.

The most awkward to have ever awkward, Lance has to admit, but the shit he does for love, is he right? He’s just unsubtly glaring daggers at the man sitting at the far opposite end of the table, Allura beside him, Hunk, Matt, and Pidge filling other spots, silently enjoying their snacks and respective drinks. 

Griffin may have picked up on the fact that the afternoon tea thing is just a subtle jab at the fact that he’s actually from jolly ole’ England, but he doesn’t make a comment about it. Smart. Something that goes against his entire existence, but that’s probably only in Lance’s mind due to unrelenting resentment.

“So,” Griffin finally breaks the ice, setting his teacup onto its complementary saucer. “About what we know so far…”

“Why’s this so important to you?” Lance challenges, and Allura presses her hand onto his shoulder to prevent this from escalating. “What’s in it for you in helping us? How do we know you aren’t just helping your father out?” 

“One, because he’s in jail, and I contributed to the fact that he remains their until death,” James begins, tone calm and cool as ever in a way that still pisses Lance off. “Two, because in case you have forgotten, I don’t believe in being a cheap cunt. I still care about Keith.”

“Yeah right,” he backs down and leans into his chair, but is still not happy with Griffin’s… involvement. “People like you are only in it for the power.”

“What? You think I’m anything like my—!” 

“ENOUGH!” Allura bellows and the table is met with silence, Matt and Hunk exchanging fearful glances. “Continue, Griffin. Please don’t pay attention to my husband.”

The last part she bites through gritted teeth, and Lance knows he’s fucked up, shriveling in his spot. There’s no one he loves more, and there’s no one he fears more.

“Right. Anyway, Allura still has access to the realm, thanks to her Father’s contributions…” He coughs awkwardly. “So we just have to find a way to get her to communicate with Keith, and the only way to do that is obviously, through their subconscious. So dreaming.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Lance mutters and is only met with another icy glare from Allura. 

“So we know Keith’s okay. At least… alive,” Pidge comments, “So how does Shiro have access to that place?” 

“Because he is a Druid.”

“Those guardian thingies like that White Lion we saw?” Matt interjects. Allura nods.

“Yes, the White Lion is who determines whether we are worthy enough to see the Beyond,” Allura says, “I suppose it may still consider myself one, along with my father…” 

“Who I expect is keeping his own promises," James hopes.

“Yes. No one is allowed to know about it, not apart from us, of course, but I will admit, I didn’t expect to have to come back to all of this.”

“So this explains a way to get Keith back. What this doesn’t explain is Shiro’s freaky obsession with him.” Matt reconsiders his word choice. “I mean, it’s not freaky that Keith is wanted like that, given his history—“ He obviously doesn’t have to gesture—“But Shiro is just plain, like, weird. Like he was just in the background and suddenly all he wants is Keith.”

“Well they do struggle with tunnel vision.” Griffin rests his elbows on the table. “Once they have a target in mind, they stop at nothing. But again, they are sentient, and they can embody anything they wish to. Do anything they want. I don’t know what Shirogane’s true motivations are, but Matt’s right: how the hell did he go from some background character to suddenly very involved in our lives right now?” 

“You know how Keith is with folks, man. Always so magnetic~!” Hunk’s definitely teasing. “You guys all fell for his charm.” 

Lance has had about enough of this nonsense himself. 

“Alright, alright, alright, we get it, everyone has the hots for Keith! It’s been established!”

“Awww, is someone a wittle jealous?” James counters, and Lance glares again.

“Fuck off, Griffin. You’re one to talk.”

“That is enough with you two!” Allura scolds them again like they’re children having a fist fight. 

“So now what?” Matt breaks another awkward silence. 

Hunk shrugs, speaking for all of them.

“We just see how Allura can communicate with Keith soon. Gosh, I’m speaking as if he’s already like a spirit or something! But you know what I mean! We have to figure out how to hook him and reel him out of there and keep Shiro trapped in that realm or something. Make him become just energy again. If he’s a Druid, then he willed himself into existing or something, right? Who knows how any of that works though!” 

“Hunk’s right about us not knowing much,” Pidge adds, “But well… this is all we can go on right now…” 

“And it’s the best we can do right now and I’m happy regardless. Thank you, Griffin,” Allura says earnestly. “We couldn’t have known without your assistance.” Allura eyes Lance and elbows him. 

“Ow! Okay, fine. Yeah, thanks, pansy.”

“Lance!” 

“It’s okay, Allura. It’s the closest thing I’ll get to Lance thanking me for really anything.”

“Well, he could still be nicer.” 

Allura’s still glaring, and Lance just shrugs. The rest of the table collectively sighs. At least some things has remained the same between them. It brings them enough comfort in such times right now.

Chapter Text

The table falls silent for a few minutes. Or seconds. However long it’s actually taken it doesn’t matter because Lance is the first to break it. 

“So what are you waiting for, mi amor? Ponerse las pilas! Get to dreaming! Talk to Keith!” 

“Oh my god, Lance. Shut the fuck up,” James cuts in. 

“Ey, pendejo. You can suck my ass.” 

Matt snickers to himself, and James perks an eyebrow as he turns to him. 

“What the hell’s a pendejo?”

“Uhhh. I’m no expert but I think he just called you handsome!” Lance shakes his head at Matt’s explanation but hey. Nice save. 

“So what’s… the opposite of pendejo, then?” James asks, then whispers: “Like what’s Spanish for ugly?”

Lance is doing his best to fight back a grin. 

“Um… bonito!” Matt’s enjoying himself too much there but no one’s commenting (or complaining). 

“Okay, well thank you for that Lance, pero es tu mucho bonito!”

Lance winces. “Don’t hit on me like that. I’m married. Besides, I’m allergic to privileged white boys and their bad Spanish.”

“All of you quiet down. I may need to lay down in bed if you don’t can it.”

“I can take you to bed,” Lance offers.

“No. I need to be in bed by myself. You’ll try things,” Allura glances at him before she tries to rest her head on the table again. “Besides, it feels unusual to do this when you have an audience.”

“Sorry Allura,” Pidge says, “We can go, if you want us to.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just no more nonsense from these two.”

“We’ll do our best,” Hunk pipes in.

Since Keith’s been introduced to the idea that there has been other worlds connected to his, he’s accepted that anything else is possible.

So when he finds himself in a dream within a dream where he’s somehow back in his apartment, the first thing on his mind is bolt out the door and drive to Lance and Allura’s home.

There has to be a catch to this. Shiro can’t have made it this easy. No way. Keith’s willed himself enough to grab his keys and drive off, and he can obviously see and touch and hear and smell here, and probably taste too if he can get a taste of human realm grub. 

But there’s no way it’s going to be that easy to grab his friends’ attention and let them know he’s not actually physically there. It feels as if he’s a phantom traveling between dimensions, or whatever kind of Multi-verse comic book theory may suit the situation.

He pulls up to the driveway. That same typical middle class suburban home style driveway with the freshly manicured shrubs lining the front yard that Lance takes much pride over maintaining. That same hydrangea bush is still there. And Keith notices that they’ve added some magenta and violet crepe myrtles for another nice touch to their otherwise standard home. 

There’s no way.

No fucking way is it this easy.

No absolutely effing way.

Marching up to the front door.

But not before trying to get a peep into their living room, if able, but no dice—the blinds don’t give him much of a view. Fine.

Doorbell. Press it. Press it again.

Doorbell. Press it again.

An even longer press! 

“ALLURA!” Keith’s desperation is as evident as the sky above, “Lance??? Anyone????”

He hears the door unlock from the other side. Oh my God. Is it that easy? Is it that easy? 

There’s a faint incessant noise that’s all too familiar too.

He hears… barking! Kosmo! Oh man! 

“Calm down, boy, calm down!” That’s Allura. Holy shit. Oh man. He’s missed her voice so much. And his good boy Kosmo, of course, who deserves a million and one head scratches and belly rubs and treats to compensate for how long he’s been away from him… 

“How are you so excited, Kosmo?” A part of Allura’s face appears through the partly opened door and her eyes widen. “K-Keith!” 

“Hi,” he breathes, still in shock at how easy it is. “I don’t have enough time. I was also told to bring Kosmo back with me.”

“He won’t let you go?” Allura swings the door open and ushers him inside, where he’s greeted by his excitable pup, and Keith can’t be happier. 

Keith can’t be happier that it really has been this easy. Shiro’s been tormenting him for nothing. He’s felt tormented for nothing. He melts easily into Allura’s welcomed embrace, returning her energy. As they break it off, Allura’s the first to break the silence.

“I’m the only one with you here. And Kosmo as well. I don’t know if you noticed that there was no other signs of life here than us.”

“Well, it feels like a dream realm, but we’re at least very real,” Keith breathes, “And at this point? I’m willing to accept just about everything. I think I’ve finally seen everything and have had just about enough.”

“Shiro won’t let you out?” 

“He never said that, actually, which is the weirdest part of all of this—he said that I can come see you guys as much as I want, just have to figure out how the mind-bending stuff works on the astral realm, which is where I am.”

“That’s right,” Allura sighs, “So he isn’t actively harming you?”

“You could say that…” Is his face heating up again? …Ugh. 

“What has he been doing to you?” 

“Uhhhhh, can we not discuss it actually? I’m just so relieved I could see you. What about everyone else? Is everyone okay?”

“They are, but we miss you, and we’re doing everything to get you back to us. We found out Shiro is a Druid—a Guardian.” 

“Huh,” Keith replies, “So like the White Lion, way back when.”

“Yes. We have another theory that there could be more of them like the White Lion. Sort of like…” Allura pauses, “Well I’ve named them Appointed Ones.”

“Eh?” 

“Well… like there must be a realm of origin, where we all came from, and they guard it.”

“No, I understood that part. It’s just, are you suggesting Shiro is one of those ‘Appointed Ones’? And if that’s the case, then why the hell is he…” 

He makes an odd full body gesture. Allura understands him anyway.

Keith. Keith groans, recognizing the voice in his head. Come back to me now.

Not now! He counters, Let me keep talking to her. Please? Remember what I said about you wanting to take care of me and honoring your promises if I mean everything to you, Shiro.

Fine. Five more minutes. 

His voice is gone.

“Keith?” 

“I’m fine,” he mutters, grumbling. “He’s trying to call me back. But you know where I am. And that my ability to move around isn’t necessarily restricted but he’s a little selfish about keeping me up there. I’m still trying to figure out how to get back to you in the meantime. Can you tell me more about how this works? From my understanding, Shiro operates like a genie, in a way? He keeps claiming he wants to ‘take care of me.’ Not take me out, like kill me, but look after me.”

“You have to stop resisting it,” Allura explains, “The magic. You have to allow your mind and soul to relax and let go. As soon as you stop resisting everything, you can ask for more.”

“So it’s been that easy this entire time?” 

“No, as a matter of fact, manifestation is a difficult skill to master. It takes a lot of patience and even a hint of delusion. Many people didn’t believe it existed until we saw what we had those years ago.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Keith. Time to come home. 

No. Another minute. 

“Allura, tell everyone he’s not hurting me and I don’t think he actually means to.”

“I will. Do you have to return now?” 

“Sadly yes. With Kosmo, if that’s okay.” 

“More than okay. He’s missed you the most. Go on, boy.” 

Kosmo trots over to Keith’s side and his tail is wagging erratically. This is probably the brightest he’s looked since Keith left, and it’s moving Keith to tears at that moment.

But then he’s woken back up in his less than ideal reality, but at least this time with Kosmo in tow. He’s brought to life with light feathery kisses on his forehead, still caged in Shiro’s arms. He’s happy to have his true best friend there, making the experience here more tolerable. 

“Why did you give me a time limit?” Keith murmurs, “I want to stay with her longer.”

“I got lonely,” is Shiro’s reply. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Is it true?” 

“Is what true? Elaborate, Keith.”

“Are you… like a guardian? An Appointed One? We know about the White Lion, so you don’t have to pretend like you never knew what you actually were.”

“There are six of us.”

“Hm?”

“There’s six of us. The main guardians. The White Lion is our Leader. I am second in command,” Shiro explains, “I’m the Black Lion. Then the rest… Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow.”

“Like your firm’s namesake.”

Shiro smiles. “Yeah.”

“Right under our noses this whole time. Who would’ve thought?”

“Clearly not you.”

“Hey.” He elbows Shiro, but he only smiles wider. 

“Well obviously I’m sure you and your friends have already been made aware of the fact that us Druids can take on any sort of form we wish to. And at some point, I just don’t remember when, I willed myself to become human. It’s my responsibility to… make sure this tier doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. And I’ve just been incredibly lonely here and on Earth.” Shiro fiddles with a stray strand of Keith’s hair. “That is until you.”

“Yeah,” Keith swats his hand away. “You’ve made that part clear. What I still don’t get is why.” 

“I’ve observed the world for so long. I’ve seen all kinds of atrocities since, well, maybe not the beginning of time but it may as well come close, with only few souls that match yours. There’s just one thing I’ve never been sure of—it’s you. I don’t think you understand, Keith. I want to make you understand.”

“This sure isn’t the way to approach it.”

“Then what should I have done?” 

“Do I have to spell it out in black and white?” No pun intentional. “LITERALLY anything other than this! Like ask me out on a real date. Like actually get to know me like a normal person and don’t kidnap me into some magical realm where I can’t even see my friends for three months and I was away from Kosmo!” 

Keith showers Kosmo with the promised head scratches after Kosmo barks between his venting, clearly trying to get him distracted from those feelings. But not today. Keith doesn’t hold back from going off.

“Well since we can’t rewrite the past,” Shiro says after some consideration. “I can still continue to honor my promise if you didn’t want to do anything sexual for a while.” He glances down at Keith’s lap, then meets his eyes again. “Unless of course you wanted to continue now. That was five minutes too long.”

“No sex!” Keith jabs his finger into Shiro’s chest. He takes a second to actually admire how strong those pecs of his are. He hums. “But we can take a bath together.”

“Together?”

This time Shiro’s really caught off guard, he’s the one blushing. 

“Uhm…” 

“What? You’ve been doing the nastiest things to me since you took me here and now you’re scared of taking a bath with me?” 

“No! It’s just… it feels nice.”

“It does, huh? More than sex?”

“A little, but I just like making you feel good.”

“You can make me feel good in ways that don’t involve sex, which is my whole point.”

“You’re right,” Shiro concedes, a breath catching in his throat as he’s recomposing himself after staring too long. “You really do have the most beautiful eyes.”

Keith flushes. “Well thanks.” And then he grins as his typical confidence bounces back. “And that’s actually another way.”

“What? Really? Complimenting you?”

“Yeah. Words of affirmation. Another love language.”

Shiro blinks. “Words can be empty, sometimes. Always took you for more of a man of action type.”

“True, but that was clearly genuine,” Keith replies, “And no, not necessarily. That’s only a half-truth. Words have to match your actions. When words don’t match your actions is when it’s empty and meaningless.”

Shiro stumbles over his words for a minute before he hoists him up as he slips out of bed. “So what about that bath?” 

“Will you give me a massage?” Keith asks, “And wash my hair? I feel disgusting…”

“Sure.”

The bath takes maybe a few seconds to fill thanks to a little kickstart with Druid magic or something otherworldly like that. Kosmo’s slumbering peacefully in another room. Keith is impressed with the garnishing of the bath, some candles lit for ambiance, lots of rose petals and hibiscus flowers floating on the water. There’s even LED lights shifting color every few seconds for max effect. Keith isn’t used to pampering this extreme, and apparently this isn’t the full extent of it. He’s allowed Shiro to join him inside the bath (what other way would “taking a bath together” have), and Keith trusts him enough. Oddly enough in spite of everything. 

“Now how does this feel?”

“Strange,” Shiro admits, nuzzling his face into Keith’s neck. “But… good. It’s a good strange. It’s…”

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Comfortable.”

It’s nothing like he’s felt before. Maybe that’s another thing missing from his humanity experience. True, genuine contentment and comfort. He can seek that with Keith. He’s found it already, he thinks… 

He's definitely already found it with Keith... 

“It’s… peaceful.” Shiro adds. “I like it.” 

He presses a tender, affectionate kiss on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith himself can’t fight off how much warmth he feels from the confession and continued affection. He’s not used to it being handed to him like this. And weirdly enough he doesn’t actually feel on edge with Shiro. Shiro has a weird, crude approach to things, but he’s not truly meaning any harm. 

He’s… got a lonely existence, like Keith does in spite of what he has. 

“Do you ever regret it?”

“What?”

“Becoming human.”

“I did. A few times.” Shiro glances at Keith’s face. “Not anymore.” 

“What was life like… before all of that, Er, this?” he breathes, “Like before you became human?”

“Boring,” he confesses, “Purposeless. No one knew about us. Not really. Or what they could accomplish if they did. Not until recently. We’re expected to remain hidden from humanity. Just in plain sight. Some things they’re better off not knowing. But watching over this place gets boring. Lonely. There’s nothing here for me to protect. Nothing I care about enough. Until you.” 

“That doesn’t mean taking me away from everyone I love.” 

“You stay with me. But you can see them too. I just don’t want you away from me too long.” 

Keith tilts his head, sinking into the water a bit. “Can’t fully agree to that…”

“I can even give you your jobs back.”

“You withdrew me from those jobs???”

“Well yes. But I just said you were on leave. You can come back. As much as I prefer you working under me in another way…”

“Shiro.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Plus it was an open opportunity anyway.”

“Fair enough.”

“Is there anyone bigger?”

“Bigger how?” Shiro perks an eyebrow, but Keith stares him down as if to convey don’t even make that sexual. 

“Like is there anyone actually like… controlling you guys? Or leading you guys?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who they are?”

Shiro shakes his head. So he’s just as clueless and confused about his own origins? Hm… 

“So you really don’t know that much.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like being the youngest out of a whole family and you keep being excluded.”

“Sort of, yeah. Only you’re expected to protect humanity.”

Keith can’t help but scoff at the notion. 

“Some protectors. You’re kind of fucked up with your approach.”

“Eh… no one ever said we were morally inclined a lot of the time.” Shiro shrugs. He has a whole attitude that screams we’re superior anyway, who cares? 

Is that a hint of self-awareness Keith just caught? 

“So you do admit to being a whole asswipe.”

Maybe that might have been a little mean, but considering everything? Can anyone blame Keith at all? 

“Well, yes, maybe I have been.”

“And still are,” Keith corrects. Shiro frowns but can’t help laughing anyway.

“Well, maybe, but I’m open to change.”

If he wanted to, he would… Keith’s reminded of that mantra. Of course it can be a bit more nuanced than that… 

Keith brings his hands before his face to inspect them. “They’re pruning. We should get out soon.” 

“Do you want me to dry your hair? Get you silky pajamas? Or we have other cotton.”

“It’s fine. Glad you’re even considering pampering me this much.”

“Has that not all I’ve been doing since I brought you here?” 

He’s only met with a hard stare in response. Shiro stands corrected. It’s probably better that he doesn’t continue to dig himself a huge, gaping hole and decides to slip out of the bath, grabbing a towel for himself to wipe his body down and wrap it with before he reaches for a fancier red velvety looking one to set aside for Keith on the edge. He takes a moment to reach into the tub to drain the water, ushering Keith to get out and wrapping a towel around him. 

“I can grab a robe instead if you prefer that.”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks.” 

Shiro can’t hold back. Try as he might, he can’t resist stealing a few kisses down Keith’s back, stopping at the groove just above his bosom. Keith doesn’t seem opposed to the actions; he’s not resisting or telling him to stop. Maybe Keith’s a little surprised but he doesn’t make a sound. He will stop if Keith asks. 

Actions must match words… Shiro thinks to himself. Sighing, he wraps the towel securely around Keith’s smaller body, doing his best to control his own temptation. He doesn’t want anything too sexual right now. Nothing too strong. 

He’s trying.

And apparently Keith’s catching onto that fact because as he finishes he spins around, pulling him in for a tender kiss. The first time he’s ever truly initiated one and Shiro feels stupefied, looking down at Keith’s face after he breaks it off. 

“So, remember what we said about wanting to try that trick you do with your tongue with your dick?”

"What happened to 'no sex'?" Shiro teases. 

"Are you seriously going to back out now?"

Shiro's eyes flicker for a moment before snatching Keith by the hips, pulling him as close to him as humanely (or inhumanely) possible, moistening his lips with his tongue.

"No."

Chapter Text

Allura is met with the crowd peering cautiously as she awakes, her vision still a bit blurred but in spite of that, she can discern the concerned faces of her company. As she realizes she’s fully within the human realm, she sighs in relief, but she is also disheartened that she couldn’t have taken Keith back with her as easily as she hoped this would have been. 

At least there’s been progress and communication—it’s certainly a step in the right direction, however small a step it is. It’s getting them closer to getting him out of there.

Still, they need another push, a way they can remove the vice grip Shiro has on Keith’s being. It’s almost as if Shiro is just a demon attached to Keith and he’s slowly eating away at whatever little semblance of life and love he has left after everything Keith’s endured in his lifetime.

“He’s okay,” she announces, though she still feels as though she’s drifting in and out of consciousness. “He’s okay. But he can’t come home just yet.”

The first thing she notes is the duct tape secure on Lance’s loud, boisterous mouth, but she can only determine that any and all speaking privileges have been revoked given how much he abuses said privileges, especially with poor James as his target for slander. Allura doesn’t question the methods used. Lance is deserving of worse right then, but she will deliver that punishment later. 

“So you heard from Keith? He’s really okay?” 

Matt is the first to speak, Lance, during Allura’s slumbering state, has lost any and all privileges to speak a while ago hence the actual duct tape to his mouth and his hands tied behind the chair. Allura is almost too afraid to ask, so she doesn’t. 

“Yes, thankfully Shiro isn’t doing him any true harm.” Allura, in a struggle to bounce back from a state of deep unconsciousness, cradles her head in her face as she comes back alive in the physical realm. She blinks the dizziness away but still some fuzziness in her vision and thoughts remain. “But understandably, he is frustrated. Shiro actually didn’t fully restrict his freedom, but Keith doesn’t know how to operate there. Shiro isn’t all heartless but he is certainly selfish. Not giving Keith enough time to figure out how astral projection or manifestation works. It’s not as simple as a switch flipping on in your brain.”

She’s not sure what sort of response she expected from such an enlightenment, but she knows it isn’t this—a mixed array of confusion, anger, fear, dejection. Or even just experiencing everyone go through the five stages of grief in a flash. Maybe expecting some sense of relief is out of the question after all. He’s still trapped against his will, away from those who truly cherish him and honor him, because someone decided that Keith’s a trophy rather than a person.

Though difficult to discern what Lance is feeling, it isn’t hard to take a stab at it and say he quite literally wants Shiro’s body dismembered, disemboweled, and incinerated—suffer a worse fate than Lance would have all of those years ago. Pidge appears hollower than ever since Keith left them, Hunk is still as sullen and scared and uncertain in spite of the determined attitude he sports to return Keith to this realm. Griffin can’t make a move nor a sound, only glare down at the fine China they’re dining on, fists clenched until his knuckles became white, frowning until wrinkle lines show on his face and goes completely red. 

Matt, on the other hand, perks an eyebrow, knuckles drumming along the polished wood, visibly visualizing what Keith may or may not be experiencing in the hands of a psychotic not-man who apparently has some semblance of humanity in him somewhere. Maybe humanity rubbing off on that otherwise lack of a true human conscience somewhere because he still found no problem taking their friend away like he won’t face any true consequences, which may be true but even so, it doesn’t make it okay. 

“So even a whizz kid like Keith can’t figure it out that easily?” Matt inquires, tone indicating an odd mixture of disbelief, denial, and acceptance, like a storm is still brewing inside him and he’s desperately logically calming it. “And this is coming from me, resident genius in the group!”

“What? That title belongs to me, you bozo!”

Matt sticks his nose in the air, sizing up his sister. “In your dreams, Katie. I’m the oldest therefore I hold the title between the two. Otherwise, maybe when I’m not in the room, you’re the smartest.”

“Hellooooooo,” Hunk snickers into his hands like a little girl, “What am I, chopped liver?” Hunk pauses, “That can actually be something to cook later!”

“He means between us Holt siblings, Hunk! You know you’re the master.” but then Pidge gags at the notion. “No! No obscure or outlandish ethnic dishes! I’m still in recovery mode when you fed us sheep intestines! SHEEP INTESTINES!”

“D’awwwwww. Now you got me feeling all special, Pidge. But I’m wounded at the comment about the sheep intestines! It’s a delicacy!”

James nearly gags in a middle of a bite of his fried egg. “Oh my god. You guys are so weird. None of my friends are this level of weird.”

“Yeah right! You aren’t shy with your pal Ryan or your other friends. We’ve seen you guys around campus sucking face,” Matt claps back. “And not just back at home, either. You guys will sneak smooches in the back of my lectures like you’re grade school children exchanging notes or candy or something.”

James crosses his arms over his puffed chest, his anger management clearly having regressed rather than improved over the years but he remembers to count backwards from ten before giving them an impulsive, hurtful answer, followed by a good rough and tumble. 

“Well that’s because we’re happily in love, thank you, and that shouldn’t be an issue anyway!” 

“Yeah, and you gotta let the universe know,” Hunk adds, “Like, y’all can snog or whatever it is you Brits call French kissing, but we don’t want to see you guys all up on each other all of the goddamn time!”

“Considering all of those years being forcefully closeted because otherwise I’d face a certain unfortunate and brutal and painful execution by my own biological father, is that so surprising?”

The table falls silent. Pidge and Matt avert their gazes before meeting eyes, Hunk looks down at his already spotless plate. Allura is uneasy. Lance can’t make a sound (thanks duct tape) but if he had speaking privileges, it may not be Griffin facing execution in the near future. 

Hunk can’t bear the silence much longer. 

“Anyway, how’s the lasagna? It’s a family recipe!” He glances around the table in hopes to make conversation that doesn’t involve trauma bonding. “Well, Lance’s family recipe but they practically consider me family, so they shared some secrets.” 

“It’s delicious,” Matt answers as he sets his fork aside. “Can’t get enough of it actually, and I’ve gotta watch the food. Already seeing quite a layer of flab on my stomach.”

“Well you weren’t that ripped to begin with, Matt, so why worry?” Katie snickers as Matt glares. 

“Jeez, well at least I’m not as scrawny as I was pre college.”

Lance tries to say something but it ends up all muffled and jumbled through the thick layers of the duct tape. Finally, Allura puts an end to his misery. Lance is the chatterbox among them all, and maybe he’ll behave. Everyone surrounding them braces for the inevitable shriek from Lance after Allura yanks the duct tape off (amazed at some residual adhesive still on his face like he had a huge tan line) and then going behind him to untie his wrists. 

“Guys!! I can’t believe you guys!!! I wasn’t ACTUALLY going to kill Griffin!”

“But you totally would,” Matt quips, “And Allura would have us all killed if we let you go to such lengths.” 

“Well look at what you did to my FACE—it’s ruined!”

Matt waves his hand. 

“Awww shaddup, it’ll fade, Prince Charming. Besides, don’t you get told enough that you’re too pretty, anyway?”

“Humph,” Lance sighs, “I work hard for this beautiful complexion, you know! White girls kill for my skin tone.”

“He’s actually not wrong there,” Pidge mumbles, “Such a beautiful shade of caramel.”

“Caramel? Not mocha? Now that’s a new one,” Lance laughs. 

“But honestly, Living la vida mocha has a nicer ring to it than ‘living la vida caramelo,” Matt admits, “And I can’t take credit for that, I got that line from some old school Scooby-Doo film.” 

“Monster in Mexico? Yeah, I remember that one. Plenty of inaccurate lore, but eh…” Lance shrugs, “What do I know? I’m Cuban-American, not Mexican.”

“Doesn’t the dialect change depending on what region you’re from?” Hunk asks, “Like there’s Spaniard Spanish, Mexican Spanish, then of course Cuban Spanish.”

“Well yeah, people in England speak English but it’s very different from standard American,” Lance scoffs, “Isn’t that right, colonizer?”

“Lance!” 

“What?” He’s met with dark glares from everyone and shrivels under the pressure to just behave! 

“Do you guys really call an apartment a flat? Or an elevator a lift? Or uh…”

“Yes, Hunk. An apartment is a flat,” James sighs, massaging his head to prevent an oncoming headache. “And we do have tea and crumpets. God!”

“Oh no, it’s Chewsday, innit?” Matt can’t help it now. Lance is a bad influence on them all. 

“No! It’s Friday! And AGH!”

“Calm down, lad, have some fish and chips!” Pidge can’t help contributing, either. “Did you miss your afternoon tea time?”

“Agggggh!” Now his accent is peeping through his learned American one. “How Keith puts up with all of you I’ll never understand!”

Hunk leans into James’ spaces, nudging him with his elbow. 

“Lighten up, chuckles. If you don’t like it, just go back to your country! The land of the Brits!” 

James sinks into his chair and shields his face with his hands in humiliation, as Allura rests her head into her palm and tries to fight off her own sheer embarrassment from witnessing this display. 

Such hooligans, all of them are, but she won’t have them any other way, anyway. 

Shiro can’t stop. Shiro doesn’t want to stop, not if Keith doesn’t want to stop. His lips are softer than silk, plump and full and juicy, he won’t stop showing his love and affection and endless, limitless desire. He can’t keep his hands to himself. Shiro’s hands are kept in place at Keith’s hips, securing him as his lips trail from kissing those plump juicy lips until they’re purple and bruised to leaving little marks on his neck. Stark contrasting bright red marks to prove Keith is his. Just his. 

But he does pause the heat just for a moment. The hands at Keith’s hips now grabbing Keith’s wrists and pinning them over his head against the wall behind them. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Keith meets his eyes, nostrils flaring, he can’t believe Shiro’s ended things so abruptly when he’s often the one yearning for such contact! “Yes.”

That isn’t convincing enough, for whatever reasons Shiro can’t name or identify which pains and confuses him, even if this is what Shiro’s wanted from Keith since the beginning is his acceptance, his trust, and most importantly, his love. For them to be happy together. To be that happy, beautiful, lovely, disgustingly lovey dovey couple. 

“You’ve refused sex from me for ages and now you want to do it that bad because I… listened?” Shiro doesn’t believe it’s that simple. It can’t be! Then again… 

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point!” Keith moistens his lips. “Relationships, of any kind by the way,  yeah, they’re all a game of give and take. There’s no transactional bullshit there. You’re either compatible or you’re not. You want something, be genuine about me, and what you want from me and honoring me, and presto, change-o, you may be earning a bit more of my—!”

“—love?”

“No. Not even close. But trust. Yeah, we’re getting there.”

“Well, that’s a start, so I’ll take it.”

Shiro leans over to press a kiss to his nose, his dominant hand keeping both Keith’s hands secure above Keith’s head as the other ventures lower to grasp at a visible erection through the towel, earning an eager purr out of the smaller male. “But actually, we can do this later. Until you truly want it, I won’t give it to you—it’s how you want things, right?”

Either his senses are deceiving him and are less sharp than he pegged them to be, or Keith can’t believe what he hears, and more so, he can’t believe he’s disappointed in hearing that abrupt change in pace, too. If he gets a chance to glance at his reflection he probably won’t recognize himself. Imposter written all over his body. This can’t be what he’s become. No! He doesn’t even view Shiro is anything remotely human or anything. He’s just… an It. That’s it. An It! Not a Druid or a guardian or whatever.

“What happened to you’re as much for me to use as I am to you?”

Shiro raises his arms in defense. “Well, maybe the tables have turned! You want to be treated this way, so I’m treating you this way.”

Keith removes his hands from exploring Shiro’s body, staggering backward. His mind is in a frenzy, thoughts jumbled and somehow he feels like he can’t function properly, like something ceased the gears turning in his head. Maybe he isn’t thinking too clearly for a while if he’s actually the one initiating anything intimate between them. It’s likely from going mad from having no one else around. And he’s touch starved, he’s lonely, he’s craving that kind of intimacy but with someone nothing like Shiro, and he can’t believe he’s lowering his standards to such an extreme degree because of such susceptibility. 

He glances down at his hands in disgust as if he just stuck them into some disgusting pile of gunk, which he may as well have, because it was Shiro he kept touching and groping out of desperation to still feel alive and not Lance or Allura or someone he actually loved. 

“You… don’t make sense.” He shakes his head aggressively as he tosses his hands over his head before clutching his hair. “Make it make sense!”

Shiro is taken aback, but any sign of dejection or sadness is masked by his trademark childish defensiveness, as he had been like from the beginning. 

“What doesn’t make sense?”

Keith chuckles, the rhythm dark and manic and uncharacteristically sinister as it prolongs until he finally says: “How miserable do you have to make me to get you what you want?”

Shiro is, again, dissatisfied, unimpressed, and above all, disheartened, eyebrows furrowing and expression darkening like a half-baked lunar eclipse and so contemplative, but oh who fucking cares? It’s not like Shiro truly has the capacity to feel anything, anyway. Not really. Not actually. He’s too wrapped up in that weird superiority complex and self-interested motives. What’s a human emotion to him, except a small speck in his apparent eternal lifespan? 

To Shiro, Keith’s probably just some pet. And not in that wholesome, man’s best friend way, clearly. 

“It isn’t about me, Keith, actually. It’s about you. It’s always ever been about you. It’s almost like that’s been my whole point.”

…Right. That’s totally the closure Keith’s seeking. Except that’s the worst thing he can hear right then. He almost tosses his hands up again in full surrender. A white flag is probably above him billowing in the gentle nonexistent breeze. 

“Well yeah, except you’ve both been painstakingly adamant about that and not been giving enough information… which brings me back to my demand, make it make sense! What the fuck! Like what the actual fuck?”

Shiro’s just as fed up, it seems, pinching the bridge of his nose and reciting his centuries old mantra. Patience yields focus… 

“You know, if you don’t just let go, you won’t ever find out.” 

You have to let go. Allura’s voice in his head rings. For the magic to work, you need to let go. 

How can he “just let go” if he doesn’t even know what that even means…? Like fully detach like some weirdo law of assumption shit?

…is that how this works? It’s a load of crap. As inconsistent as that ties into what he’s been exposed to nowadays, there’s no way he’s magical like Shiro or Allura. He’s just some guy. Yes magic exists, but not within him or whatever bullshit they try to sell gullible people—the only magic he’s capable of experiencing is that of the bedroom variety and even there he’s been lacking some of that pizzazz and other tricks up his sleeve or whatever. 

“Stop taking everything so seriously, Keith. Breathe. Relax. Close your eyes. Calm the storms in your mind and just maybe, you’ll find the clarity you seek.”

Keith almost gags on air. “Ugh, more of that flowery purple prosy prophetic shit. Enough of it.”

“Alright. Then if you won’t take charge, I’ll happily take the wheel again.” Shiro sinks his fingertips into Keith’s hips and inches him closer as Shiro kneels, and Keith can’t help but take note at how good he looks down there, like he belongs on his knees, serving him rather than vice versa, and it’s not like Keith isn’t open to having such roles reversed. He’s not even protesting as the towel once wrapped securely around him drifts to his feet. Unfortunately there’s always a catch. There’s always a condition upon another condition. Keith can’t read his mind but Shiro can read his. He doesn’t think it’s even about him like he always claims; it’s just some game like he says, just mind twisting, mind bending, whipping him into submission, something like a toy or a trophy for him to admire or to mess with from time. 

Just an object. He wonders if that will get through Shiro’s thick skull with all of his magical abilities and whatnot. 

And as Shiro does, his playful, mischievous expression molds into a soft affection for him.

“Is that what you really think?” Shiro doesn’t know how to word it in a way it doesn’t sound intrusive (as if that’s not how his whole existence has been to Keith since the beginning, but digressing). “You think I only want you because you’re hard to have?”

“Yeah, otherwise why else would you suddenly deflect the minute I’m more cooperative and actually wanting of it? Am I just an object to you? Something to win, to conquer, to control? You kept repeating that it’s you who has all the power here anyway.” 

“No. No, Keith. You’ve missed my whole spiel,” Shiro sighs, fingers slipping under Keith’s chin to lift his face. “You’re everything, and I want to show you how worth it you are. That’s why I… I’m trying to honor your boundaries too, but since you apparently want this that badly…” 

“I do, for once,” he mutters, lips pursed, “But you are trying. I can see that. So…”

Shiro smiles, their lips meeting for another chaste kiss, and he’s surprised when Keith returns the affection, parting his lips. 

He breaks the kiss some breathless moments later.

“I want nothing else than your happiness, Keith. I know… how I’ve approached this may not have been… morally just, but, I never said you can go back to them. Sometimes. Maybe once in a blue moon.”

“Shiro.”

“Okay, whenever you want to, then.”

“Right. That can wait this time, though.”

Shiro blinks. Now the tables are turning again, huh?

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Now it’s Keith curling his hands around Shiro’s belt and pulling him closer. “Now quit ducking around and dick me down instead!”

Shiro shrugs, chuckling. “As you wish, my pretty baby.” 

And Keith doesn’t hesitate. And Shiro doesn’t hesitate to help him do away with his own towel, flicking them aside and uncaring where they land in the room. Maybe it’s more appropriate that they go back to the bedroom, but Shiro’s not complaining in the slightest, and apparently neither is Keith. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. Keith’s experience here shows, and he’s impressed that he’s still not too intimidated by his massive girth. Just happily taking him in inch by inch. His needs are as primal and urgent as his own. 

Keith maintains eye contact, even, as he inches his mouth to the base before he begins to bob, and now Shiro’s losing it, eyes rolling back as he relaxes against the wall behind him. 

“Yes, baby, just like that, and I can’t believe I don’t feel any teeth—!” Shiro’s amazed that he’s on the receiving end for once at all. “Good boy, my pretty baby, you keep going and I’ll come down your throat…”

Keith doesn’t stop, clearly that’s his goal, and Shiro obliges. 

“Take your mouth off, baby, let me come on your face and tongue.”

Keith shockingly listens, popping off his cock, Shiro’s precum moisturizing his lips as he sticks his tongue out flat. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Shiro rubs himself off as he feels an oncoming climax, groaning as some seed spills on Keith’s tongue and face. Keith’s even open to swallowing it. 

“Fuck, baby. Come on now. I can’t let you go empty handed like that.” Shiro is rubbing himself again, until he’s fully hard. “This what you want, yeah? You want me to fuck your gorgeous ass raw?”

Keith nods. 

“Not here,” Shiro grunts, “You deserve to be treated like royalty, baby. Anything you want. Any request, and it’s yours, it’s always all about you, beautiful.”

His thumb brushes against Keith’s plumped lips. “So let’s not waste anymore time.”

Chapter Text

Shiro feels huge. 

It’s not a new discovery; it’s not something Keith doesn’t expect, but it’s not something Keith’s fully adjusted to, or fully processed, just yet. Every thrust courses through his body like a sharp jolt of electricity, and he hates that he enjoys it so much, hates that he likes being worshiped this way, but he’s thrown any and all caution to the wind. Or at least the theoretical wind. He’s not actually sure if it’s oxygen he’s breathing in this magical realm or something.

The experiences following are unfathomable. Keith’s gotten a chance to live every kink he’s ever fantasized about trying in real time—almost instantaneously. If not for the rapid healing this realm provides, he’d probably be too wiped after this to handle two or more sessions, and Shiro won’t want to stop here.

And Keith’s suspicions are only confirmed after Shiro’s two (yes, two) dicks shoved up so deep inside him finally pop out.

“Want more?” Shiro prods, while literally prodding Keith’s over-sensitive hole with his thumb. “I know you don’t want to stop there.”

“Seeing as I have no say in the matter, then do as you wish,” Keith shockingly manages to mutter, face flushing a deep scarlet shade that definitely compliments his features. Not that he knows or anything. But judging by the way Shiro dreamily stares at his debauched state—and they’ve barely begun—he can imagine that must be what’s running through Shiro’s stupid brain. 

(Is there one in there? He’s not sure. Apart from horndog machine and overly obsessive and sentimental, Keith can’t decide if Shiro has more of a personality beyond those facets.)

But this is it.

Maybe Keith is finally accepting fate—or he is just hoping this is the ticket out of here. Whichever the case, Keith is letting Shiro roam free, at least in the sexually deviant department. It isn’t as if he can’t make things much freakier, right? Not after the fact that Shiro can bend reality and himself at will, at the flip of a switch, because manifestation is indeed real and alive in this realm.

After the fifth or sixth or eleventh round of nasty, grimy sex, Keith loses count. Not that he is truly complaining. Apparently he has finally given Shiro what he wanted all along, and the results aren’t bad. 

Not really.

But once it all stops again, the proposal Keith comes up with keeps Shiro awestruck for a good few hours after tending to Keith during aftercare, and spoiling him every other way that doesn’t nvolve raw and dirty downward dog fucking. Keith can’t help but grow tired of it quickly. It's come out of left field for them both, though. Keith's surprised it took him this long to suggest it.

“You… want me to live with you?” Shiro splutters, still stupefied. He doesn’t seem like he hated the idea, though, which is another plus one for Keith. It’s apparently always been this simple and Keith keeps over-complicating it all.  “I guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“We aren’t legally married, and would never be, but that doesn’t mean you can’t act as my husband, or something. Since you’re so keen on having me be ‘taken care of’ and all. That way we both get what we want. You don’t have to hold me hostage here so greedily, alright? It means I get to still be around people who care about me too. Long before you came into the picture.”

“Sheesh. Alright, alright. You know what—that’s not a bad thought. And a deal’s a deal. I can take you back home to you friends like I promised. I did say I was a man of my word.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?”

“Nope.”

Shiro follows through on his promise. 

Aside from Allura, who he manages to contact as soon as they're back, no one else knows Keith’s returned to the physical realm. He’s still in disbelief that this is all it took—a simple negotiation, a reasonable compromise, meeting somewhere in the middle with some mad not-man who refuses to share his energy with anyone else, even those who have been there in Keith’s life before him. 

He still can’t believe his eyes when he’s standing at Allura and Lance’s front doorstep. He's driven himself here all the way from his apartment, where Shiro's waiting for him when he's done with his business here.

For real. He’s really here for real.

He is tempted to scoff at the notion, given how long it’s been since he’s set foot on solid ground, on Earth that is. But he can actually hear, see, feel, smell, and maybe taste everything.

His five senses are in full functioning, so that should mean that indeed, this is the real deal! 

And so onward, he marches to the front door.

He rings the doorbell, like actually, this time.

No answer. He rings the doorbell twice, like some desperate nincompoop, but he is a desperate nincompoop, so what does it matter?

And Lance is the one to answer the door. 

And thus commences a staring in sheer befuddlement contest. 

Neither blink for a solid… few nanoseconds.

Then Lance jaw hangs low, then shuts again. Hangs low, then shuts again. Like he’s certain he’s seeing things, eyes trailing from head to toe, toe to head, a good number of times.

Keith feels a nerve—or every nerve in his body—snap.

“Lance, you’re not seeing things! Yes, it’s me. I’m back. Like actually.”

And now cue an even longer staring contest. It’s like a battle of wits but there’s no discussion involved.

Lance steps forward and jabs the hollow of Keith’s left cheek with his thumb, as if determining whether it’s in fact, human flesh, and not… whatever else may be on his mind. Anything that debunks the idea that it’s Keith standing in front of him, like he’s some animatronic version of himself.

“Ow,” he mutters, “Is that convincing enough? Robots won’t feel that.”

“Yeah, and you’re no hologram, or some see through, translucent carbon copy of yourself Shiro sent to us to throw us off.” Lance is still processing the fact that Keith’s there, right in front of him, safe, maybe not fully unscathed, but… he collapses into Keith’s spread arms anyway, eyes welling as relief overwhelms him.

“Oh my God, Keith. You have no idea how much things continued to progressively suck without you here. We did everything, even got your ex involved, and—!” 

“Wait,” Keith pauses, pursing his lips. “James is here?” 

“Yeah, he’s here,” he retorts, “Just in the kitchen with Allura.”

“…I, uh, guess I have to thank him, then.”

Lance glances at him with a pained expression.

“You don’t have to.”

“Lance, the more you resist it, the more awkward of a situation it becomes. Let me just talk to him, okay?”

Lance pulls away, though his fingertips still remains brushing against Keith’s forearms before he completely retracts them. 

“Fine,” he answers, and Keith brushes past him, catching a glimpse of James assisting Allura in the middle of organizing her bountiful arrangement of the girliest kitchen appliances anyone’s ever seen. Keith shakes his head and grins. Allura always has to add so much personality to every aspect of her home. The fact that Lance doesn’t even complain is amazing.

He stops at the junction between the kitchen and living room, leaning into one of the counters. 

He clears his throat. Allura and James stop bickering over the Keurig, and meet his eyes.

“Hey James,” he greets, “So you were part of the grand plan to get me back here?”

James smiles. “Yeah.”

“Well thank you.” Keith glances at Allura. “Both of you. I may not be completely free of him, but we worked out an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” he spats, “Are you joking? With that psychopath?”

“He’s nowhere near a psychopath,” he corrects, “Just… confused. A classic case of a fish out of water. Or in this case a spirit away from its own realm.”

“So what did you agree on with the cunt?” 

“James,” Allura interjects. 

“What? Are you seriously defending the guy now? After everything After how long he kept Keith away? From me? From you? Er — all of us?”

“I’m in no way empathizing or excusing his actions,” she retorts, “But I am grateful that he saw the error of his ways.”

“Not… exactly,” Keith sighs, “But he’s getting there, anyway. He’s pretty much wrapped around my finger now."

“What?” Allura and James answer in unison, gawking.

“Remember how he keeps repeating to me that he just ‘wants to take care of me’ and whatever the fuck else kind of bullshit he keeps spewing—!”

“Er, yes.” Allura is making a face at him before exchanging a befuddled glance with Griffin, who only shrugs. So much has happened between them all that they’ve all stopped questioning anything and just learned to accept it and move on.

“—and you also kept talking about just letting shit go and not taking it too seriously. So then I found some loophole and now… he’s coming close to becoming domesticated. Think like a house male-wife but with a premium Gold-member package.”

“I’m afraid I’m still not following, Keith… but I’m not complaining as long as you’re here, and not as some spirit version of yourself or something.” Allura replies after some consideration. “Where is he now?”

“Back at my apartment.”

“What?”

“Like I told you guys, we’ve reached a compromise. He can take care of me, but he doesn’t have to be keeping me away from the physical realm in order to do so. He can live with me. Posing as my husband.” Keith states that awfully slow and painfully.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James spats again. “You’re allowing him to be your husband. He who so selfishly kept you away from everything you ever loved or cherished. He who literally stalked you and made you uncomfortable from day one. You literally married your—!” 

“—Not actually, James. We’re not legally married. He just wants to act as my husband. That’s totally fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” he grumbles, “You don’t deserve someone—or something—like that!”

“No one does,” he concedes, “But it’s the only way I got him to agree to let me stay with you guys instead of in the astral plane. God, staying there drove me nuts! What felt like a few days to me was actually a few months on Earth. I can’t believe I was stuck there that long.”

“We can’t believe it, either,” Allura steps forward. “But I cannot allow him to stay near you after everything. I may have to search for a way to keep him trapped there, so he doesn’t bother you or us like this ever again.”

“Allura, that’s really not necessary and it’s okay. He’s… actually not all bad. Not all good, either, yeah. As much as I think he should have been less crass and more traditional with his approach to things… he seems too out of the loop about anything here to fully understand how bad it is.”

“Sounds fake, but okay,” James cuts in again. “As long as the fucker isn’t weaponizing that perceived naiveté or incompetence, then I guess I have no problem with what you agreed to with him. That doesn’t mean I have to be friends with him or anything, right? And that goes for quite literally any of us too, by the way. I don’t think any of us are planning on getting all chummy and whatnot with Shiro after all of this.”

“And I can’t blame any of you for it,” Keith replies, “I don’t even like him one bit, so how can I expect you guys to be nice to him? You can be complete ass wipes to him for all that I care. I know Hunk and Pidge and Matt will get a kick out of that. He just can’t let go of the fact that he likes me so much…”

“Ay yi yi,” Lance interrupts as he waltzes into the kitchen, resting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you went through with something like that. You know when we say you deserve someone who can look after you and be your plus one, we didn’t mean some otherworldly creature who kept restricting your freedom and access to your right to independence. We get it, you’re fucking amazing, but not to be hoarded so selfishly like that.”

Keith tilts his head and smirks. “You think I’m amazing?” 

“Is that really a question? Like, that’s actually a question, coming out of your smart ass mouth?” Lance shakes his head. “Of course I think you’re amazing! We all do. That’s why we worked so damn hard to get you out of there and back with us. You’re like the final puzzle piece to us. Or… or like you eat some crummy salad and you come across the last strawberry in it.”

“That’s lame.”

“Ugh! You know what I mean! You’re amazing, Keith! Why can’t you see that?”

“That's definitely a work in progress.”

“Yeah, you better be, because that’s apparently the whole reason why he tried to take you away from the start. You don’t see how amazing you are. You don’t see how big of a footprint you leave on us, on people. I know you think playing small makes you humble, but if you want my thoughts—!

“—Even if I didn’t you’d still tell me anyway—!” 

“—Well, it doesn’t make you humble, it makes you stupid! It makes you vulnerable! You can be humble and still recognize that you exude awesomeness. You’re the awesome sauce drizzled over that bland as fuck salad!”

“Dressing?” 

“Oh my God, Keith. You drive me nuts.”

“Haha. Nuts.”

“I could kill you right now.” 

“You could, but you’re won’t—I’m too valuable of an asset to your life.”

“You—!” Lance averts his gaze as he catches Allura and James laughing at their antics, and then deflates, grinning with them. 

“We’re so glad you’re back, Keith.”

“I am too, Lance.” Keith is grinning, and his face is aglow, his heart aflutter and full of love for the people surrounding him who give back as much as he does. “I really am too.”

Chapter Text

Keith almost can’t believe how that one compromise changed the entire trajectory of the whole ordeal. 

Shiro wants to so badly be here for him?—Fine! Then he must remain a law-abiding citizen, and by a law abiding citizen, Keith means he has to go along with the arrangement of posing as a married couple. With Shiro being as powerful and influential as he is (see: he has all of that cash to waste this on in order to get away with it), then they have already set everything into motion. Legal papers, Keith getting his jobs back, him finally upgrading that old, dingy apartment he calls a home and moving into a nicer, humble house. Still nothing compares to that gaudy, tacky estate like home Shiro put together out there in the astral plane but Keith finally does show him a few handy tips and tricks, fulfilling his own end of the deal, as well. 

Keith’s mindlessly flipping through a magazine with Kosmo slumbering on his lap before he’ss on interrupted. Shiro pops his head out of the guest room connecting to the living room, constructive gear still on him, goggles and helmet and tool kit. 

“The bed and dresser in here are done. Good call to just do this shit ourselves from scratch. How did you learn all of this?”

“A combination of lots of free time amid working those three jobs and a lifelong ambition to learn new things.” 

“Beautiful. Anyway, don’t I get a reward for this?”

“Depends. What do you want?” Keith sets his magazine on the recently assembled coffee table. “You know, the more you keep making this all a transactional thing, the more it feels like a cop out.”

“But you haven’t been protesting that much as of late,” Shiro deadpans, waltzing toward him as he removed the gear. Keith hears the familiar wisp of a belt escaping its loops and falling to the ground. “So what fun do I get this time, hm? You fucking me silly on that gorgeous cock of yours or vice versa?” 

Kosmo has hopped off elsewhere already well accustomed to where this was headed, and Shiro sits on the couch, pulling Keith toward him until his back presses flush against Shiro’s torso, his lips against Keith’s ear before he begins licking along the lobe. 

And Keith already feels a growing, hardened erection pressing between his ass cheeks. 

Flushing, he grumbles something to himself. 

“Fuck me.”

“Hm? Didn’t catch that.”

“Did I say sit there and talk my head off? Just shut up and fuck me.” 

“Mmm. Of course, gorgeous. Anything for you.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Shiro responds by pushing some fingers into his mouth, muffling more of Keith’s protests. 

“Be a good boy and you will,” he chuckles.

“I don’t like this.”

“None of us do.”

“I really don’t like this,” James presses, looking the part as he trudged up through Keith’s driveway to his humble home. At least this time it’s a home and not that awful, ruddy, dilapidated apartment complex that should have been torn down by the city years ago, which Shiro bought out and made an asset. “A house-warming party? We have to deal with that big old motherfucking duffel bag of horse shit?”

“We have to support Keith, and he did mention we don’t have to like Shiro—he still doesn’t.” Lance points out as they stop at the entrance. Lance rings the doorbell, elaborate bouquet in hand—an assortment all made by Allura’s hand. 

“I am still working out a solution to get him to be trapped in the astral realm,” Allura promises, “But for now we have to accept this arrangement.” 

“Boo.”

The door opens, revealing Keith in a classic turtle neck and leggings. 

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming,” he grins, then steps aside to allow them to enter. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re running a bit late, but they’ll join us soon enough,” Allura answers as she closes the door behind them. 

Shiro appears from behind Keith and clutches his shoulder, protective and scrutinizing everyone.

“Good of you all to make it. We can’t let this momentous milestone of Keith’s get by without a proper celebration.”

“Of course,” James snidely remarks, glowering at Shiro. “We want to do nothing else except be here for Keith. This is for you by the way.”

He hands the neatly wrapped gift and Keith accepts it graciously through a smile—something is off that James can’t quite pinpoint but considering it’s Shiro he’s out here living with, he can’t really blame Keith for being a little on edge. 

Shiro’s grip on Keith’s right shoulder tightens. The controller to the vibrator shoved up Keith is on there, and he’s amazed at how well he’s composing himself. Being a little brat isn’t going to get him far so this serves as a little… punishment. 

As Allura, James, and Lance make themselves comfortable, Shiro glances at Keith, only to be met with a challenging glare, something he expects nothing less of from his gorgeous little defiant spitfire. 

“Hanging in there, baby?”

“Fuck you,” he breathes, stifling a groan in there. “Let me, please…”

An eyebrow shoots up.

“Do you deserve to?”

“Yes,” he gasps, “Please.”

“Love to see you losing that stubborn ego. Go ahead, baby.” Shiro squeezes his shoulder, heightening the speed and pressure of the vibe. “Go ahead. I’ll meet you in the restroom in a moment.”

Keith whimpers in relief but manages to compose himself, slinking away to the restroom as Shiro requested. Knowing he’s going to be cleaned the lewd way and definitely the proper way shortly thereafter. 

Shiro slips into the restroom shortly after mingling with Keith’s friends. Most of it involving a lot of glares and insults thrown at him but he probably (definitely) deserves it. 

Ah well, he gets great satisfaction in keeping Keith all to himself now and getting to please him in ways Allura and Lance and definitely James won’t have the luxury to anymore, and he can’t be happier to have this opportunity handed to him so easily. 

“Hi, baby.” He pulls out a cock ring from the cupboard. “Good release?”

“Mm-mmm.” Keith nods, already prepped and stripped down. Such a good boy. “Are you happy now?”

“Aww, baby, we aren’t finished with my generous reward for my hard work yet.” He shows off the device and Keith whimpers again. “Gonna suck you off nice and long, but not too long to where your friends will get suspicious. Just told them there was some final adjustments to be made that you needed to attend to and they thankfully questioned nothing.” 

Understanding the consequences, they both think. 

“Well,” Shiro puts on the cock ring and smirks as Keith’s cock twitches. “Already so over-aroused, eh?”

“Fuck you.”

Shiro rests his hands between Keith’s thighs, kissing into both. 

“Soon, once I get my fun. And then we go have fun with your friends.”

“I hate you.”

“Ah, ah. The more time we spend together, the less likely it seems you actually hate me,” he rests his head on Keith’s left knee. “Actually I believe there is a 1 in 5 chance that you prefer my company to your friends now.”

“Yeah, right,” he quips, but Keith can’t help but shyly look away at that shit eating face of Shiro’s. Maybe he’s warming up to him a lot more now. Nowhere near where Shiro wants them to be. 

But they’re well on their way. Better than being back to square one.

“You’ll come around one of these days,” Shiro finalizes, hand wrapping around the base of Keith’s cock. “But until then, I’ll do everything to show you how worthy you are.”

And maybe—maybe Keith finally starts to understand his value. 

FIN.