Shiro's on his knees, hands tied behind his back, panting hard as Keith runs the crop over him, teasing at his sensitive skin, pressing into bruises and skimming his sides, his nipples, his ass - but never his cock. Keith flicks the crop, once, twice, and Shiro cries out, cock twitching.
"Keith, please..." he gasps out.
But Keith is not yet ready to give his sub what he wants. And besides...
"What do you call me?" he questions, snapping the crop against Shiro's inner thigh.
It takes Shiro a second to refocus on the situation, his eyes having crossed with the pleasure-pain.
"S-sir," he finally gets out. "Sir, please..."
Keith runs the crop up Shiro's leg, coming near his cock but never giving him attention there. He runs it up the bigger man's side, over his many scars, testimony to Shiro's pure force of will. His drive to get through even the worst circumstances. The passion which propels him forward, even when all seems hopeless. The pure grit, which eventually brought Shiro back to him. Back to Keith, back to the loving arms of the man who cherished him more than any other.
And that is what makes this so special. That Shiro, who can power his way through anything, would choose to give up that power, and place it in Keith's hands.
The thought is too much. Keith has to put aside the crop and drop to his knees, so his eyes are level with Shiro's.
"You're so good for me, Shiro," he says, before kissing him. Shiro responds to the kiss in the way he always did, melting against Keith, letting Keith hold him, protect him. Keith, the only person he trusted to keep him safe against the universe.
Finally, when they break for breath, Keith asks him, "Do you want to cum now, Shiro?"
And as soon as the other man breathes out, "Please sir..." Keith's hand is on his shaft, stroking him quickly but gently.
"Cum for me, Shiro."
And so Shiro does, releasing onto Keith's hand and slumping against his lover’s deceptively strong shoulders. Keith continues stroking him until Shiro whimpers with sensitivity, then he kisses Shiro softly on the lips.
"You did so well for me, Shiro," he says, as he reaches around to free Shiro's hands. Voice soft, in the way it only ever is around this man, this remarkable man. “Let's get you cleaned up and in bed." Guiding Shiro to the edge of the bed, he sits him down and retrieves the bowl of warm water and the towel he'd prepared. He kneels in front of Shiro once again, this time below him, and begins wiping gently at the cum on his dick, his legs, his stomach, til he’s all cleaned up. Then he opens the jar of ointment he'd taken from the medical bay for this purpose, and begins spreading it on the welts that peppered Shiro's skin.
"You made such pretty sounds, Shiro," Keith murmurs as he cares for each sore. "Just for me. So good, just for me. I'm in awe of how much you trust me," he admits, smiling up at Shiro.
"I'm in awe of you," Shiro told him. "It's easy to do this with you. You make me want to worship you; of course I can be good here."
Soft smile turning into a grin, Keith puts aside the ointment and climbs up into the bed, pulling Shiro down with him. They kiss, long and deep and soft, lips and tongues coming together and breaking apart and coming back together again - because no force in the universe can keep them apart for long.