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such selfish prayers (and i can't get enough)

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Shiro tastes just vaguely of tequila the first time he kisses Keith.

It’s at the tail end of a party with their friends, one of a long string of victory celebrations, when Shiro looks at him, all big pleading eyes, and asks Keith to come home with him, like Keith hasn't been crashing on his couch for almost a month.

Keith’s riding high on a nursed beer and a single shot of whiskey — just enough to feel the slightest bit of buzz — and Shiro took two shots of tequila, spaced throughout the evening and tempered with glasses of water so they didn't knock him on his ass, lightweight that he is.

The way Shiro slips his hand into Keith’s and slots their fingers together on the walk from the bar to the apartment is new though. Hand-holding hasn’t ever been part of their repertoire of physical contact and the sensation has Keith buzzing more than the alcohol.

They've just managed to get into the apartment Shiro is renting month-to-month in the aftermath of the war when it happens.

Shiro doesn't let go of Keith’s hand once they make it inside. He pauses to lock the door before leaning back against it and pulling Keith close. Keith stumbles into Shiro's chest at the tug of their joined hands.

"Hey there, big guy," Keith says, smiling up at his friend, the love of his life.

"Hi," Shiro replies, grinning down at him. He snakes his free arm around Keith's waist, keeping him close.

"You doing okay?"

"More than."

"So, you're not drunk?"

Shiro snorts. "No more than you."

And Keith... well, Keith still feels that slight fuzz of alcohol but he's clearheaded enough to be fully aware that this is definitely not a usual position for them. He can also spot the clarity in Shiro's eyes underneath the sparkling mirth and something he doesn't dare name.

"Okay," he says. He pats Shiro's chest with the hand not intertwined with Shiro's. "That's good then."

"You came home with me," Shiro says.

"I did," Keith agrees. He aches with how much he wants it to mean something more than the fact that he kind of lives here.

"Did you know that everyone at the bar wanted you to go home with them?" Shiro whispers into the side of Keith’s head. "And you still came back with me."

It's an exaggeration, Keith knows. People were watching Shiro, not him, but still... Shiro should know.

"You know I only ever want to come home with you."

Shiro's breath catches. He must hear the complete honesty in Keith's voice.

"Keith," he breathes. " Keith ."

"That's me," Keith answers, voice soft, sliding his hand up to rest at the join of Shiro's shoulder.

"Keith."

"You know, I'm going to start thinking you're drunk after all with you just saying my name," Keith says. His grip digs into Shiro's shoulder.

"I'm not," Shiro promises. "I just..." He looks away from Keith, fingers tightening spasmodically on Keith's hip.

"You just..." Hope is blooming with wild abandon in Keith's chest. There's no stopping it even though he is too familiar with the pain of having to stomp it down.

"Keith," Shiro says again. "Please. Can I kiss you? I'm not drunk, I promise, but I want..."

"Yes," Keith says, cutting him off. "Yes, Shiro. God, of course you can— "

Shiro kisses the rest of his words off his lips. It stays soft for a second, maybe two, before Shiro moves his hands up to cup Keith's face and licks into his mouth.

It's devastating in the best way.

Keith buries his newly freed hand in Shiro's hair and kisses him back with every iota of enthusiasm he can muster, something like a whine escaping him.

"Shiro," he breathes when the kiss breaks. Keith feels like he might be breaking too, but he welcomes it. It's safe to fall apart here in Shiro's hands. He knows Shiro will put him back together.

"God, I've wanted to do that for so long," Shiro says, before mouthing along Keith's jaw, hands dropping to Keith's hips.

Keith can still taste tequila secondhand on his tongue and he feels more drunk off Shiro's kiss than the actual alcohol. It takes a moment to parse Shiro's words, but when he does, his fist clenches in Shiro's shirt.

"I wanted you to," he admits. "So much. I never thought you would want..." Keith continues softly. He forces his hand to relax and smooths out the wrinkled fabric under his palm, petting across Shiro’s chest.

Shiro nips at the hinge of Keith’s jaw, whining slightly. "Of course I want you, baby," he says, shifting to look Keith in the eye again. "You're everything. Everything, Keith."

Keith's can’t breathe, can only manage one word at this point. "Shiro."

"I mean it," Shiro promises. He leans in and punctuates his statement with a lingering, deep kiss, whispers a repetition against his lips. "I mean it."

Keith kisses the words away, taking them into him and shaking with their honesty. It doesn't feel real.

"Shiro," he breathes, when they break apart once more, both of them panting. "You're... you're everything too. Always."

Shiro almost growls as he pulls Keith back into yet another kiss, biting and thorough and perfect. "I want you," he says against his mouth.

Keith nips at his bottom lip. "I did come home with you," he reminds Shiro. "No one else."

Shiro's breath catches and then he's kissing Keith again, all-consuming.

He's busy memorizing the drag of Shiro's tongue against his and doesn't realize Shiro's moving until the sudden twist that has his back up against the door instead of Shiro's.

"Mmm, smooth move," Keith manages.

"Like that?" Shiro asks. He leans forward and finds the sensitive spot behind Keith's ear with unerring accuracy.

Keith grinds his hips forward in response, letting Shiro feel the way he's more than half-hard in his jeans from trading a few heated kisses.

"I'll take that as a yes," Shiro says, breathless. He presses his hips forward in a dirty grind, drawing a loud moan from Keith. His head tips back and bangs against the door.

Shiro takes the opportunity to trace the column of Keith's neck with a collection of kisses and nips and kitten licks, hips never stopping their movement. Keith is not going to survive this, not when Shiro is obviously set on devouring him now that he has permission.

"Shiro," Keith pants out. He fists his hand in Shiro's hair and pulls him up. His lips are spit slick and his eyes are dark and molten.

"Yes, baby?"

Keith feels like melting at the endearment. Shiro's slightly smug look tells him that he knows it, too.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"That's the general idea," Shiro says, lips brushing against his jaw now, Keith's grip having slackened. "If you want."

Keith has just enough presence of mind to snort instead of doing something dumb like tackling Shiro the floor and making sure he follows through. "Of course I want," he says. "I've wanted you for years, Shiro."

(He's loved Shiro for years, but he's not going to bring it up unless Shiro does. He's not ruining the mood now that something is actually happening.)

"Keith... baby ." Shiro whispers. "Really?"

Keith kisses him instead of answering. This is one way he’s not ready to shatter yet.

Shiro hums into the kiss and one of his hands moves down to cup Keith's ass, squeezing lightly.

"What about you?" Keith asks, pulling his mouth away.

"Wanted you for ages," Shiro says against his cheek. He presses a kiss to the skin behind Keith’s ear before whispering, "Want to spread you out on my bed, find out what makes you scream. I want to fuck you until you only remember my name and I want to ride you until you're begging me to let you come."

The noise Keith lets out sounds vaguely like a teakettle.

He never expected to hear Shiro say these things outside of his fantasies. And fuck , it's even hotter than anything he's ever conjured up.

"You want that, baby?" Shiro asks, pulling back to meet his eyes, definitely smug now.

"Yes," Keith breathes. "All of that. And then I'm doing the same thing to you." Shiro's breath hitches and Keith smiles, all sharp intent. "Like that, sweetheart?"

Shiro makes a noise at Keith's use of the endearment, but he's the one who opened that door. "I do. Fuck, Keith."

"That's the idea," Keith parrots, smirking now as he throws Shiro's words back at him. "And as hot as it is to be pressed up against your door, I'd rather people in the hallway not be able to hear us."

"You angling for me to take you to bed, hotshot?"

Keith nips at the line of his jaw. He's wanted to get his mouth, his hands, on Shiro’s sculpted jawline for so long that it’s almost inconceivable that it’s happening in reality. "Yes. You said something about spreading me out and making me scream."

"Your wish is my command," Shiro says. That's the only warning Keith gets before Shiro picks him up.

Keith squeaks and wraps his legs around Shiro's waist. "Asshole, I can walk," he says, punctuating it with a harder bite to Shiro's shoulder.

"Mmm, keep doing that," Shiro says, fingers squeezing on Keith's thigh. "And I want to carry you. Let me spoil you."

"Want you to ruin me," Keith mutters, soft enough that he's not sure if he actually intends Shiro to hear him or not.

"Oh, I plan on both, baby," Shiro growls.

Keith noses fabric aside, then bites down on the crook of Shiro’s shoulder and sucks, starting work on a lasting mark. He wants to cover Shiro in marks, proof that this happened in case it turns out to be a one time thing. He doesn't think it is, but the fear is still there.

He hopes Shiro leaves marks too.

Shiro groans at the sensation and starts walking faster. He drops Keith on the bed, grinning when he bounces.

"Get down here," Keith orders, scooting back to center himself on the bed.

Shiro tugs at Keith's boots instead. "No shoes on the bed, babe."

Keith rolls his eyes, all fond exasperation. "You're the one who put me here. But if you want to undress me, by all means." He gestures at himself and then drops his head back against the pillows.

Shiro tugs Keith's boots off quickly. Keith makes the mistake of looking down only to see Shiro crawling up onto the bed, a smirk on his face. Keith can't handle that expression when Shiro is between his legs. His dick twitches in his jeans.

Shiro continues his crawl up Keith's body, slipping one hand under his shirt as he moves up to steal another series of deep kisses. Keith gets his hands under Shiro's shirt too, skimming his palms over warm skin and raised scars both. He rucks it up, trips a thumb across Shiro's nipple. Shiro groans into his mouth and pushes into the touch.

"Sensitive?" Keith murmurs.

"Very," Shiro rasps in response. "I used to have them pierced."

"Fuck," Keith whispers with force. He pinches Shiro's nipple to listen to him groan again, imagining how he looked with piercings. He's almost glad he didn't know this before. He wouldn't have survived that bit of knowledge.

"Maybe you can convince me to get them redone," Shiro says, dragging his mouth against Keith's jawline. “But I’ll need you to come hold my hand when they do it.”

"I'll keep that in mind," Keith says. "Now, shirt off."

Shiro huffs out a laugh. "Bossy."

"Did you expect anything else?"

Shiro sits up, straddling Keith's waist and settling the swell of his ass against Keith's dick. "No, but I'm sure I can convince you to be good for me, eventually."

Keith shivers at the caress of Shiro's voice. Shiro smirks and runs a hand up Keith's chest. "Like that, babe? You want to be good for me?"

Keith swallows hard. "Maybe when you earn it," he shoots back. He's not giving in that easy. He grips Shiro's hips and rolls up against him. "Maybe you'll be good for me , sweetheart."

Shiro's blush is a beautiful thing to behold.

He reaches back and pulls his shirt off one handed and tosses it on the floor. Keith immediately drags his hands up from Shiro's hips to run them over his chest.

"You too," Shiro says. "Shirt off."

Keith crunches up and pulls it off, tossing it in the same direction as Shiro's.

Shiro leans down and kisses him again. The feel of skin on skin as their chests meet is almost overwhelming.

Keith tangles a hand in Shiro's hair, keeping him close, adjusting the angle of the kiss. He uses his other hand to get a handful of Shiro's ass. That earns him another moan and Shiro grinds down against him.

"We're still wearing too many clothes," Keith murmurs against Shiro's lips.

"In a hurry?" Shiro teases.

"Yes. Get me naked, big guy." He eyes Shiro as Shiro props himself back up. "Do not," he warns when Shiro opens his mouth.

"Don't what?" Shiro's smirk is proof he knows exactly what Keith's talking about.

"One word about patience right now and you're not getting any tonight."

Shiro honest-to-god pouts at him. The man is built like a god and his ass is pressed against Keith's very hard dick and he's pouting .

Keith loves him so fucking much.

"Keith, you can't set me up for such a good joke about it while forbidding me from saying it at the same time," he whines.

"Multi-tasking, babe," Keith says with a smirk.

"You'll pay for blocking my joke," Shiro promises. "It was good."

Keith can't quite stifle his laughter as he says, "I'm sure it was."

"Rude," Shiro sniffs.

Shiro clambers off of him and Keith wants to whine at the loss, but then Shiro’s hands are at Keith's waistband, fingers dipping underneath.

"You sure about this?" Shiro asks, suddenly serious.

"Yes," Keith tells him. "Shiro, I'm so sure. Are you?"

"Yes," he replies, absolutely no room for doubt in his voice. His eyes drop back down to Keith's chest, tracing down the dark trail of hair until it disappears into his jeans.

He doesn't give any warning before ducking down and licking the path his eyes just took.

Keith tries to jerk his hips up but Shiro's grip on them is tight.

"Fuck," he whispers.

Shiro tugs at his waistband with his teeth.

"Ask nicely," Shiro says. He looks way too amused for someone whose face is practically on Keith's dick.

"Please stop teasing and get both of us naked," Keith says. His voice is more snarl than sweet, but it does the trick.

Shiro's hands tighten for a moment before he pulls away and starts working on the button of Keith's jeans. He gets it undone after a couple tries and then slowly tugs down the zipper.

Keith opens his mouth to urge Shiro to stop teasing again, but he catches the almost reverent look on Shiro's face before the words escape. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip and he looks caught between worship and hunger.

"Shiro..."

He pulls in a breath, nods, and starts working jeans and underwear down together.

Keith bites his lip as his dick finally springs free.

"Fuck," Shiro whispers, sending warm air skittering across sensitive skin. "Gorgeous."

There's no hiding his blush at this point. "Shiro—”

"I know, baby," he says. "I'm working on it."

He leans forward and licks a stripe up Keith's cock before pressing the softest kiss to the crown.

Keith curses, hips bucking again, trapped by his jeans still mid-thigh.

Shiro laughs. "I had to." He grins up at Keith. "Saying hello, you know."

Keith can't help but laugh too. "Dork," he says fondly, and god, he loves him and the words are going to spill out of him again soon.

"I'd threaten not to suck your dick for that but it'd be a very empty threat," Shiro says. He turns his head and nips at Keith's hip.

"Shiro, hurry up," Keith says, fully impatient. He wants to pull Shiro up to him and kiss the breath out of him, but he wants his jeans gone first.

Shiro tugs his jeans down a bit more. "Would go faster if your jeans weren't so tight."

"Hey, these are my best pair," Keith protests. He raises an eyebrow. "You going to argue that they don't make my ass look amazing?"

Shiro snorts. "Your ass always looks amazing."

"But especially in these jeans," Keith presses. He's winning this point.

"Okay, yes, your ass looked especially good in them, but it's going to look even better when I can get the damn things off." He punctuates the last part of his sentence with another hard tug.

The jeans end up around Keith's ankles and Shiro's grin is half triumphant, half predatory. He quickly deposits Keith's jeans and underwear on the floor, taking his socks with them.

He starts running his hands up Keith's legs.

"Your jeans too," Keith pants out, trying not to shiver under Shiro's touch. It's gentle and sure and he knows Shiro's going to take him apart.

"Just a minute," Shiro says. "I'm enjoying the view, here."

Keith covers his face this time, the blush too strong to let it be seen.

"Aww, baby," Shiro says. Keith feels the bed dip as Shiro kneels on it. His arm floats up to pull Keith's hands down. "You're gorgeous. All of you."

Keith bites his lip, unable to respond with words.

"Even better than I imagined, and I've imagined this a lot,” Shiro continues.

"Me too," Keith whispers.

Shiro's hand trails down the center of Keith's chest and skirts around his cock to rest on his hip. "So now that I've got you spread out on my bed..."

"Well, naked and on your bed at least," Keith cuts in.

Shiro smirks and then uses his grip on Keith to flip him over. Keith lands on his knees and Shiro presses down on his back until Keith's cheek is against the bed.

"This okay?" he asks. His fingers trace down Keith's spine.

"Yeah," Keith breathes. He shifts his arms to get comfortable. "Still don't think this counts as spread," he says.

"Then spread a bit for me, Keith."

Keith's breath hitches. He works his knees further apart, feeling the arch in his back deepen.

Shiro curses quietly. "Shit, baby. You look.... you look so good."

Keith bites his lip. "So, got me spread on your bed now," he prompts.

"I do." Shiro's voice is a dark promise. "And I'm pretty sure I promised to figure out what makes you scream."

With that, Shiro squeezes Keith's ass with both hands and spreads it before diving in face first and laving his tongue across Keith’s hole, broad and flat and wet.

Keith loses track of time as Shiro eats him out. Shiro seems enthusiastic about it and Keith is definitely not complaining. No one's ever done this for him and Shiro's definitely getting a variety of noises out of him thus far. He's fucking amazing with his tongue and the promise of his jawline is absolutely being fulfilled.

"Shiro," Keith pants out.

Shiro pulls back just enough to nip at the meat of Keith's ass. "Yes?"

"Not that this isn't incredible, but thought you were going to make me scream."

"Oh, I am," Shiro promises. "Just warming you up."

He reaches around and curls a fist around Keith's cock. Keith keens, hips rocking forward immediately. He's already on edge from anticipation and Shiro's expert tongue.

"Do you want to come on my tongue?" Shiro asks.

Like it's actually a fucking question.

Shiro keeps talking before Keith can get his mouth to cooperate. "Think you can come more than once for me, babe?"

"Yes," Keith says, answering both questions at once.

"Good," Shiro breathes. He goes back to work, fucking Keith with his tongue and matching the rhythm with his hand. He catches Keith's rim with the edge of his thumb, stretching him wider for his tongue.

"Shiro," Keith says, voice wavering as Shiro swipes over the head of his cock. "I'm close."

Shiro redoubles his efforts, sending Keith hurtling towards the edge and over. He clenches around Shiro's tongue and comes all over his hand and his own chest.

Shiro brings him down slow. He presses an incongruously chaste kiss right over his hole before pulling back. He turns Keith over onto his back again and Keith flops bonelessly, sinking into the mattress.

Shiro presses a kiss to his hip. "Good?"

"Don't fish for compliments, Shirogane," Keith grouses.

"Really? Going to call me Shirogane when I just had my tongue in your ass?" Shiro asks with a snort.

Keith raises an eyebrow. "Don't fish for compliments, sir ."

Shiro flushes red. "Not what I meant."

Keith laughs. "We can talk about your kinks later, sweetheart."

"Definitely," Shiro says. He rolls off the bed and walks towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Keith asks, pretending it's not a whine.

Shiro tosses a wink over his shoulder. "Mouthwash before I come back to kiss you. You can go ahead and get the lube out of the drawer, if you want."

"Not moving yet," Keith grumbles.

That gets a muffled laugh from Shiro.

Keith does roll over to dig in Shiro's bedside drawer for the bottle of lube. His fingers brush over what definitely feels like a toy before he finds it, but he doesn't look. Shiro can show him later, if he wants.

The bottle of lube is half empty and Keith is on fire with the knowledge that Shiro has been using it on himself. He's been living here. He knows Shiro hasn't brought anyone else home.

He wonders how many times Shiro has used it, used the toy in the drawer, while Keith was just in the other room.

His dick twitches, already starting to harden again.

Shiro saunters back in and tosses a damp washcloth to Keith.

"You're still dressed," Keith says as he quickly wipes down his chest and then tosses the cloth on the floor.

"Guessing you'd like me to fix that?"

"Yes."

Shiro drags his eyes over Keith and sucks in a breath when he reaches his dick. "You're already—"

Keith smirks. "Galra don't have the same recovery time that humans do."

"Fuck," Shiro says. He crosses the space between them and leans down to kiss Keith thoroughly.

Keith kisses back with everything he has, pulling Shiro down onto the bed with him.

"Pants off," Keith says into the kiss. "My turn to enjoy the view."

"As you wish," Shiro says with a wink. He pulls back and stands. He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and shoves them down without ceremony.

Keith's mouth waters as he takes in the sight that is a fully nude Takashi Shirogane. His eyes linger on his cock, hard and bobbing and pretty . He's big, but not intimidating, and Keith wants to touch .

"Beautiful," he breathes, sweeping his eyes back up to meet Shiro's, spotting a surprisingly shy look on his face. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm still waiting for that screaming."

That gets Shiro moving immediately, crawling over Keith and dragging him into a deep and filthy kiss.

Keith gets his hand around Shiro's dick immediately, giving him slow strokes that are more of a tease than anything else. Shiro breaks the kiss and buries his face in Keith's neck, breathing heavy.

Keith drags his teeth down the column of his throat, sucks another mark there before biting down next to his previous mark.

Shiro shudders.

"Definitely talking about your kinks later," Keith murmurs. He sneaks his other hand between them to play with a nipple.

"Yours too, baby. Don't think— " he sucks in a breath and lets it out on a moan. "Fuck. Don't think you're getting off scot-free."

"I definitely already gotten off once," Keith says around a smirk. Having Shiro at his mercy is heady stuff. "Can't say the same for you."

"I want to fuck you," Shiro says. He bites at Keith's neck, sending a shock through him. He can feel Shiro's smile against his skin. "Do you want that?"

"Yes. Please."

"Did you get the lube out?"

Keith fishes around for where he dropped the bottle. He finds it and presses it into Shiro's hand. "Don't think I didn't notice it's half empty. Been using it in here on your own?"

Shiro nods and starts sliding down Keith's body again. He licks over one of Keith's nipples before biting down gently. Keith arches into it.

"Fuck, yeah, that's good," Keith says breathlessly.

He hears the click of the cap and before long, Shiro's fingers are at his rim, rubbing lube into already spit-slick skin.

Keith buries his fingers in Shiro's hair, nails scraping across his scalp. "Been in here getting off while I was out on the couch?" Keith manages to ask.

Shiro makes a noise against his skin. He nods. One thick finger slides easily into Keith.

His hips jerk up. "Fuck. Did you think about me, sweetheart?"

"Yes," Shiro says, looking up at Keith, nothing but adoration and truth in his grey eyes. "Always you, Keith."

"I've jerked off on your couch," he admits.

Shiro's eyes blow wide. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Been jerking off to you for years."

“Fuck.” Shiro whispers, reverent as he starts working in a second finger.

Keith's body yields easily for him. His mind fuzzes a little as Shiro works him slow and steady, crooking his fingers once they're inside.

Keith's nails dig into Shiro's scalp, his shoulder. Shiro's hiss sounds entirely pleased at the sensation.

"Good, baby?"

"What, shit , what did I say about fishing for compliments?"

"Just want to know that you're feeling good, Keith."

"Feels so good, Shiro. Ready for you to fuck me."

Shiro growls and thrusts his fingers in harder and Keith keens. "You sure?"

"Yes," Keith says decisively. He contemplates their position for half a second before he gets ahold of Shiro and rolls them, settling astride Shiro's torso.

Shiro stares up at him, eyes dark and awed. "Fuck."

"You're about to," Keith says with a smirk.

He finds the lube and slicks up his hand before reaching back and jerking Shiro's cock a few times. "This okay?"

"More than," Shiro breathes.

Keith rises up on his knees and gets himself into position, eyes not leaving Shiro's face.

Keith's mouth drops open as he works in the head of Shiro's cock. Shiro's hands are a vise on his hips, keeping him still.

"You look so beautiful, Keith," he whispers.

"Feels so good," Keith manages. He sinks further, relishing the way Shiro's cock slides in, opens him up. Keith's taken the entirety of Shiro's cock before long and they both pause a moment, breathing heavily.

"Ready?" Keith asks.

Shiro nods, eyes flicking from Keith's face down to his hard dick, bobbing between them.

Keith sets a slow rhythm to start. He knows he looks good like this and he wants Shiro to see . He wants Shiro to remember this forever, think of him every time someone rides him.

If Keith has his way, no one else ever will, but he can't quite believe he'll get that wish.

Tears prick his eyes at the thought and his rhythm falters. Shiro takes the opportunity to steal control, holding him still and thrusting up into him.

Keith closes his eyes. He hopes Shiro’s fingers leave bruises.

"Look at me, baby," Shiro says. "Keith, please. Look at me."

Keith drags his eyes open right as Shiro's cock drags along his prostate on a good thrust. His mouth drops open on a moan and his eyes lock onto Shiro's.

"Focus on me. Don't go away," Shiro urges. "Want you here with me. Want you to know it's me."

"Of course I know it's you," Keith pants. "Shiro, I know. I— " He cuts himself off before he can spill the words that live in his heart, on the tip of his tongue.

"Then look at me," Shiro begs. "I want to see you fall apart this time."

Keith nods, unable to say anything without those words spilling out.

Shiro gazes up at him and then pulls him down for a kiss, thorough and deep and as filthy as the grind of Shiro's hips.

Shiro rolls them over again, not pulling out as he does. He presses his forehead against Keith's as he sets a new rhythm, slow and hard.

Keith digs his fingers into the muscles of Shiro's back, trails them down until they're gripping his ass, pulling him into every thrust. "More," he pleads. "Faster."

"Whatever you want, Keith," Shiro promises, eyes soft and dark.

Shiro fucks him good, punching noises out of Keith. He's never considered himself loud before, but Shiro is making him reconsider.

"What do you need, baby?" Shiro pants out. He drags a sloppy kiss along Keith's jaw. "Come on, I promised to make you scream." Keith bites his lips before Shiro leans down to take over that duty himself. "Come on, Keith."

Keith hesitates before, "Don't hold back. Give me all you've got, Shiro."

Shiro growls and kisses him hard. "Tell me if it gets to be too much."

"I will," Keith promises.

Shiro searches Keith's eyes and then nods.

The next thrust is harder. The bed creaks with the next. Keith throws a hand up to brace against the headboard and moans louder than ever as Shiro snaps his hips forward harder and faster. Keith forgets that they're in an apartment building, that the wall the headboard is banging against might be shared, that someone might hear him as he gets louder and louder.

"That's it, baby. God, you're so fucking beautiful, Keith," Shiro says.

He's keeping up a steady stream of praise and Keith can't handle it.

"Shiro," Keith cries out. "Shiro, Shiro, Takashi ."

Shiro makes a noise and slams in harder. "Again," he says. "Say it again."

Keith babbles out something he thinks might be Shiro's given name.

"Keith, baby, oh my god," Shiro says. "Please tell me you're close."

"So close."

Shiro wraps his hand around Keith's neglected cock. It's wet and Keith is so close. Shiro jerks him, almost rough in his haste, chasing his own end and trying to hold on for Keith. It feels so good. Keith's vision is whiting out, his skin feels like it's made of sparks. Shiro thrusts hard, matches the movement with his hand.

Keith comes with a scream.

Shiro pulls out and finishes himself onto Keith's stomach, his come mixing with Keith's own.

He collapses down on top of Keith, both of them breathing heavily.

"Fuck," Keith breathes.

"Maybe later," Shiro mumbles. "Tired."

"You actually made me scream."

Shiro presses a kiss to Keith's neck, which is where he can reach without moving. "Told you I would."

" Fuck ."

Shiro chuckles. He rolls off of Keith, probably not wanting to crush him, but immediately hooks an arm around him and pulls him in for a cuddle.

Keith buries his face in Shiro's shoulder. He never wants to leave this moment, is dreading having to move to clean up and maybe being sent back to the couch. His heart, his whole body, is overflowing with his love for Shiro and he's so scared that Shiro doesn't feel the same.

"Keith, are you shaking?" Shiro asks, voice full of concern. "Are you okay? Shit, was I too rough?" Shiro's hands are everywhere, gentle and soothing, checking for injury.

"I'm fine," Keith says. He wishes he sounded more convincing.

Shiro is quiet for a too-long moment. "Do you already regret it?" he asks, voice small. He rakes a nervous hand through hopelessly disheveled hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed. I shouldn't have been so goddamn selfish."

The words spill out too fast for Keith to immediately process.

"Shiro? What are you talking about? Of course I don't regret this. I could never ." Keith says, incredulous. He pulls himself up to look Shiro in the eye, heart sinking at the expression there.

Selfish , he'd said. Keith can’t stop the hope from blooming a little in his chest as he thinks about the implications.

"I told you you're everything to me, remember?" Keith says. "I meant that. I mean it." He rests a hand over Shiro's heart. "You're the most important person in the world to me."

"Just the world?" Shiro tries to joke. It falls flat with how his voice wavers, uncertain even after everything Keith’s ever done for him, with him.

"The whole universe. All the universes," Keith swears. "And if this isn't what you want," he says, swallowing past the lump in his throat, "I can clean up and go back to the couch and we can blame it on the drinks earlier."

"I don't want that," Shiro says quickly. "Keith, god, no. I want you . I want you here. With me. In any and every way you're comfortable with. Please don't go unless that's what you want."

"I don't want to go," Keith admits.

"Then stay," Shiro breathes. He leans up and kisses Keith. It’s slow and sweet and feels like a first kiss.

It feels like a revelation.

Shiro breaks it and blinks at Keith. "I love you," he whispers into the scant space between their lips. "I love you so much, Keith."

Keith cups his face and kisses him again, slow and deep and lingering. He can feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes, born of overwhelming emotion. He never really thought he’d hear Shiro say those words.

"I love you, Shiro. More than anything."

"Then you're going to stay?"

"For as long as you'll have me," Keith promises. "We definitely haven't even started doing everything you said when we got home, yet."

Shiro's grin is a supernova. "Well, we started ."

Keith smirks. "Barely." He rolls his hips against Shiro, cock already half-hard again.

"Shit," Shiro breathes. "You're going to kill me."

Keith grins. "But what a way to go."

"Survive alien abduction and alien warfare. Killed by boyfriend's alien stamina." Shiro pretends to consider. "I can live with that."

"Or not," Keith snickers.

Shiro loses it, giggling into Keith's shoulder.

By the time they’ve both exhausted themselves, they’ve managed to make most of Shiro’s earlier dirty talk a reality and Keith has an invitation, effective immediately to move off the couch and into Shiro’s room.