[ it’s been a rough week. shiro isn’t the type to believe in an arbitrary cut-off for a recurring time table, as though one bad week will be put behind him if he waits it out from saturday to sunday, with a fresh week starting anew with blank pages and an absence of all his prior mistakes. he’s put himself in this mess and until he cleans it up, it’s going to be bad week after bad week, because nothing feels right when he’s meant to exist with an empty, keith-shaped spot beside him.
he’s seen keith, of course, but that’s the extent of it. no shared laughter, no secretive smiles, no kissing, no holding, no fucking… – there’s an awkwardness between them now, one that doesn’t pit them as strangers to one another like a break-up would, but something edging ever closer to that. it’s bringing up some sour memories. this isn’t like his break-up to adam. it’s not a break-up at all; they’re fine. but shiro does remember that ever present, anxious feeling whenever he left his newly moved into, garrison provided single-dwelling. part worried, part annoyed at the never-ending chance of running across his ex-fiancé in the halls, the cafeteria, the officer lounge.
it’s not like that with keith, he reminds himself. the stark difference here is that he wants to see keith, even though every interaction of the past week has left him hollowed out and guilty, continually at a loss of how to rectify the misunderstanding between them. the problem here is that although he does recognize that he misspoke in an explanation that didn’t explain anything at all – we weren’t ourselves, keith – there’s also a part of him that stubbornly resists any obligation to explain himself. or god forbid, apologize.
… but hell, retiring every night to this bed that is far too large now, has weakened that resistance. he’s spent more of his life sleeping alone than he has sleeping with someone beside him, so theoretically, he should be better suited to sleeping alone. he’s not. it’s always particularly difficult to relearn how to sleep alone. frankly, he doesn’t want to relearn how to do that, because there are no words to adequately describe how wonderful it is to open his eyes each morning and find his best friend snuggled against him.
he can’t endure another morning without that. he can’t toss and turn through an entire night again, either.
if he showed up at keith’s cube right now, just as he is – empty-handed and a touch droopy-eyed from another horrid night – keith would likely accept him anyway. but shiro increases his odds by first taking a shower and then heading off to the dining hall to get some food in him. though his brain tells him he doesn’t have much of an appetite, his stomach disagrees. loudly. so he goes and he gets, settling on something quick by raiding the pastries. he specifically pilfers away a few extra, thinking that a peace offering of sugary sweetness can only help his chances of getting in the door.
turns out he’s wrong, because he never gets to keith’s cube.
see, he saw the broadcast this morning. it was concerning, of course, especially the lack of details of what is deemed punishable, but having dealt with confusing, not at all reliable rules on what these aliens deem enforceable, shiro’s decided that setting things right with keith takes far more precedence than doing the prudent thing of hunkering down in his cube.
it’s a mistake.
apparently, walking out of dining with extra food is now considered an offense. hoarder, greedy, taking more than his fair share… the sentries are not having it. and so shiro lets them lead him away. anxious, but assuming it will be little more than an inconvenience of time and a slap on the wrist, shiro cooperates all the way to some new structure that is still in the process of being built. everything after that is a whirlwind of escalating atrocities.
he probably shouldn’t have busted that first sentry that tried to rough him around into following the command of full-body stripping. the remaining sentries – and a few more that appear from somewhere – are on him shortly after that, jabbing him with something that makes everything foggy and rather pleasant after that. neutralized by a drug that makes him compliant and absent of inhibitors, shiro winds up naked shortly thereafter.
because they clap a collar on him, fasten belted ropes around him, and hook up… a contraption. if he’s so greedy for second and third helpings, then he should make no protests to whoever decides to unzip and cum dump in the funnel, right? either way, shiro’s too warm, too antsy, and too out of it to care, his muffled noises accentuated by the funnel. ]
( ooc: so the fanart but without the panties and the funnel connection is shorter? I DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S WHAT THIS FANART IS SUPPOSED TO BE but let's go with that. fanart by BlopNSFW @ twitter )
Edited (cw ok, i always forget) 2023-06-24 14:35 (UTC)
[ in less than a week, it seems as though every seam holding keith's world together is pulling apart. it all started with the confusion and heartache of dialed-back affection from shiro which has spiraled into something impossible to navigate and has bled out into the further destabilization of reparacija itself.
of course, the two events aren't causally related, but timed one after another, it's hard not to be constantly uneasy over the escalation of dreary uncertainty. they're supposed to be stronger together, weathering whatever storms come their way, but these days they sleep apart and keep conversation at such a superficial level that keith would almost prefer not talking at all.
but that isn't what keith actually wants. he wants to be with shiro, and have his boyfriend back, even though it's unbearably lonely to be in love. because yeah, sure, neither of them were in their right minds when i love you was freely traded back and forth, but keith can't pretend that it hasn't knocked something into alignment in his soul.
in some sick way, this sudden distance is familiar. keith had never been in love with the shiro from his reality, but their friendship hasn't been the same. here in prison, it feels a lot like watching history repeat itself, slow and cruel. keith hates it with ever atom in his body, but he doesn't know how to pretend or lie about his feelings the way shiro wants him to.
so maybe the newly established warden and his ominous threats are actually a blessing in disguise. surely this warrants discussion together? long after the space wolf's fallen asleep after listening to keith talk himself in mental circles, he finally gets up. armed with nothing but speculation however, keith decides he ought to go to shiro's cube with something more useful. scoping out the new construction site that's just been rushed to completion would at least be a starting point.
it's still early enough to avoid some repercussions for breaking curfew, but with limited time on his hands, keith hurriedly makes it toward the completed construction site to find a stage. having been in porn prison long enough, keith has no doubts as to why this stage was fucking built in the first place, but soon enough it's not the assortment of horrible bondage rigs that holds his attention. ]
...Shiro?
[ keith almost doesn't recognize him because this doesn't seem like something shiro would participate in. but even uncharacteristcally posed naked, bound and gagged with some stomach-churning funnel attachment, there's no mistaking that the man on stage is shiro.
heart pounding in his chest, keith forgets everything else, pushing past a crowd of ogling inmates to elbow and muscle his way onto the stage. one word -- one sign that shiro actually wants to be here, and keith swears that he'll back the fuck off and stop acting like he has any claim to shiro in anyway, but until then: ]
Shiro!
[ trying desperately not to look in the funnel to see if it's been used or not, keith instead kneels to the ground to hold his best friends' face. the eyes are all wrong. vacant, glassy, and staring -- keith finds himself unable to breathe, think or feel anything, all sensation shattered. ]
Shiro, who did this to you?
Edited (tag got cut off :/) 2023-06-25 03:58 (UTC)
ino. i should do better in shielding our secret fans from such eye filth
[ shiro has no concept for the passage of time. minutes, hours, days…? for all he knows, he’s become a permanent fixture on this stage. or at least, that has been his foggy mindframe for the past few hours. the drug is potent, with an onset that hits quickly, but as with everything, duration is not everlasting. the effects wane slowly, breath by breath as his system filters out the drug. faintly, he’s aware of the forming crowd at the base of the stage, but he’s yet to feel any distress for their stares and indistinguishable words. he’s numb, still; numb to anything beyond the contented buzz of his brain, the one that keeps him relaxed in his bindings.
the drug has him running hot, however. so he keeps making these soft panting sounds into the mouthpiece, feeling the lightest sheen of sweat at his nape and his forehead, neither of which he can wipe away. even that doesn’t distress him. he tries, occasionally, to lift an arm to brush the wetness away, only to remember that oh yeah, he can’t move his arms. still, he doesn’t activate his galra arm to burn through the bindings. he doesn’t even think to. he doesn’t think to do much of anything except blink slow and drowsy, staring without truly seeing as minutes continue to drag and drag…
but then keith shows up.
he hears his name a few times, but it isn’t until keith is physically in front of him, so close that shiro can do nothing other than see him, that shiro finally remembers how to do something more than pant. he whines, instead.
keith. keith. he knows this boy. he loves this boy. everything is wonderful and safe and wanted when he is with keith. his brain may be too cotton-stuffed to process much of anything, but he doesn’t need to consciously think that through to know it. keith is here, which means here is where shiro wants to be.
the hands on his face are good. so good. briefly, shiro’s eyes slide shut and he sways into those hands, grabbling something that sounds suspiciously close to keith’s name. eyes reopen and even with them remaining glassy and void of sharp awareness, a hint of determination settles into his features. for the first time in hours, he shifts his body, trying to wriggle in his bindings to get closer to keith: he lean against, to bury against, to be as close as keith will allow him to be.
… which doesn’t go over well with the two sentries at the other end of the stage, which turn and begin advancing. if keith isn’t here to use the funnel, then his access to the stage is to be revoked. ]
[ shiro doesn't provide a clear answer, and keith kicks himself for it. how the hell is anyone supposed to answer with the end of a fucking funnel lodged in their mouth? even so, even with that obvious, stupid oversight on his part, keith still gets something resembling an answer. the shifting in shiro's body language is small and restricted, and the heavy breathing projected from the open end of the funnel turns into haunting and desperate. throat tight, keith is momentarily paralyzed, just taking this all in as shiro works through whatever's in his system to focus.
he never gets an answer to who did this to shiro, and that doesn't matter because that was never the right question to start with. in fact, what he should have said from the start is: ]
Shh, shh, I got you, Shiro. I'll get you away from here.
[ keith brushes shiro's sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead before reaching around to loosen the strap tied around his skull. if he'd bothered playing with these sorts of sex toys in class, maybe he could have popped that off without much fumbling. as it is, keith struggles with the buckle, overly conscientious of not hurting shiro by pinching his scalp or pulling his hair. ]
Sorry, I'm trying to get this loose ...
[ but he trilas off. heavy footsteps are approaching and while that doesn't necessarily mean anything bad as they could be coming for any of the other inmates on display, a glance up makes keith's stomach sink when he realizes they can't be so lucky.
the two sentries approach, and keith grows more agitated as he applies more force to finally get the buckle off to disconnect shiro from the blasted funnel. but with time running out, keith doesn't check in. instead his hands move down to the next belt looped around shiro's body. ]
Halt. You are not authorized to release inmate Takashi Sihrogane from his public service. Step away from the prisoner with your hands in the air.
[ keith grits his teeth, not paying the damn warning any mind. he does, however, glance up to estimate a distance. with the sentries already halfway across the stage, keith is faced with one of two options.
1) haul shiro up bodily and bolt 2) take out the two sentries, and then grab shiro.
with twenty steps left, keith scowls. neither option is looking great, of course, but that first one isn't really an option at all. how far would they even get like that? he spares a tick to kiss shiro's forehead and whispers: ]
[ trying to get this loose… oh. it’s a strange state of mind to be stuck in. the awareness is there and then not, one moment conscious of how uncomfortable the straps are and how much better it would be to have them off of him, but then the moment lapses and shiro is once again adrift with no tangible focus. even now, as keith pulls at the strap around his head, to pinch his jaw and to further mash his lips, the cogs in his head refuse to fire with enough power to realize that he can help.
keith said he’d get him away from here and so, shiro sits tight, letting keith do just that. at least until the sentries start across the staging platform. sentries, they’re bad, they put him in this position, they’re going to restrap the belt keith just got off of him…?
halt –
shiro makes a low, distressed sound in his throat and then, as he opens his mouth and works it over, stretching out the cramped way it’s been kept for hours, he manages a much more clear: ]
Keith.
[ helpful, huh? keith is turned to him again anyway, gentle in the way he kisses his forehead. ]
Inmate AA0005 is in violation of section 13-8411. Repeat, step away from the prisoner with your hands in the air. Move now or be forcibly removed from this area.
[ shiro’s almost there. he’s slowly dredging through the dope in his system, clawing his way out of the fog to begin feeling the anxiety ridden adrenaline spike necessary to finally offer him the clarity to do something other than blink slow and absent. not yet, though. he still sits there mostly bound, the only conscious thought now leading him to the faint realization that he’d been looking for keith earlier. and why had he been looking for keith earlier? ]
‘m sorry.
[ it’s mumbled and faint, not at all worthy of the apology he knows, deep down, he’s meant to give keith. ]
i suppose you are a good bean who doesn't deserve this... (cw: nsfw image link)
[ move now or be forcibly removed from this area. huh? after the more ominous nonsense from their new warden earlier on, this threat is so underwhelming that it almost makes keith laugh. the only reason he doesn't is because shiro distracts him with a mumbled apology.
taken aback, keith stares for a moment, brow furrowing as he tries to work out what this apology is even for. the unspoken distance that's permeated their relationship this past week? getting keith caught up in yet another altercation with prison staff? or is there something to the possibility that shiro had been here voluntarily in search of something keith couldn't give him?
whatever the case is, keith lets the lead-weight melancholy expand in his chest for two beats before shaking his head. this isn't the time or place to be discussing much of anything. ]
Later.
[ he kisses shiro's forehead again, a quick fleeting thing, and then keith is up on his feet, taking a step away from shiro to face the two approaching sentries.
one centering breath is what keith allows himself. no room for doubt, hesitation, or mistakes. he doesn't attempt to stall or delay the confrontation by responding with an explanation of a threat of his own. instead, he charges down the stage towards the two sentries, a white light in his hands as the black bayard teleports and activates, taking the form of a familiar sword.
his first swing with the blade bisects the first sentry, its top half tumbling onto the stage in a shower of sparks and whirring circuitry. thesecond sentry meets a similar fate as keith knocks it back by impaling it through the chest plate. it goes down, voice heavily distorting as its power goes offline: ]
Inmate AA0005, drop your weapon. I repeaaaaaaat
[ keith expels a heavy breath, watching as the sensor lights in both sentries blink off and the robots lie still. maybe that'll result in misconduct, maybe it won't, but either way, keith deactivates the bayard and quickly moves back to shiro knowing that there's only a small window of time before reinforcements show up.]
C"mon.
[ but that time estimate was made with a previous warden in mind. this one, the new guy who promised there'd be more stringent crackdowns, evidently has every intention of keeping his word. keith barely makes it three steps back toward shiro when something sharp hits the back of his neck. pain shoots down his spine and keith buckles, falling onto his knees as his vision blurs and doubles.
hot. why is everything so burning hot?
from backstage, two more sentries emerge, one lowering a tranq gun as they approach. together, the two haul keith up onto his feet. keith ragdolls between the two of them, his head and body too heavy to lift or put up a proper protest as they throw him on a bondage rig. ruthless in their efficiency, the sentries secure keith's arms to the frame, before ripping off his pants and forcing his legs wide open. unable to think clearly, keith groans and whines pitifully. ]
Inmate AA0005.You have been issued an infraction. You are hereby sentenced to 24 hours of public service.
[ keith doesn't fully hear it. not really. instead he turns his face, trying to find... his bayard? no. trying to find shiro somewhere, only for his focus to snap between his legs as the sentries secure an adjustable extension for a large pistoning phallus into place. even through the drug-fueled lethargy, the sight of it awakens some primal terror. thrashing heavily in his binds, keith screams.
i would screenshot good bean but everything else about the screenshot would be incriminating
( cw: drugs, robo-murder, burns. i had to put the cw warning here bc we needlessly fill up the comment box ROFL )
[ the situation is a precarious one. it isn’t lost on shiro completely. the apology may be said and done, but the unease stays as he watches keith dispose of the sentries with chilling efficiency. unmoved from his spot, shiro does manage a meager mustering of a smile as keith turns back to him. good job, comes to mind, but he doesn’t find the effort to move his mouth to say it. just as well, because in no time at all, something else is being ripped from his vocal cords instead. ]
No!
[ simple, yet anguished, the protest fails to make any sort of impact as keith ragdolls into a heap that is then apprehended. keith, he thinks. help him, whispers in next. reflex isn’t quick, however. he eases into his movements, as if relearning how to do something as straightforward as moving his arms to test the bindings keith didn’t finish undoing. motivation is building quickly and with each shift, the next comes easier, quicker, stronger. keith’s being hauled onto an apparatus now, groaning, whining, screaming –
there it is. there’s the spark of purple that engulfs his hand and spreads upwards, drawing lines into the metal that forms his arm. a force of will has the metal burning hotter until it simply burns through the strap. the others suffer similar fates as shiro maneuvers his hand, slicing through them.
he stumbles into his first step, but it's sheer determination that carries him through the drugs that continue to weigh his limbs and off-center his perceptions. he may be less coordinated than his usual athleticism affords him, but he’s a freight train of power as he throws his mass at the sentries now turning to him. one decapitation and one punch through… neither feel any pain, of course, and shiro is sick enough in his haze that he’s almost disappointed by that fact. how dare they touch keith. how dare they put him in this… this… ]
Fuck.
[ his foot drags against the stage in his next step, the line of which diagonals. he manages to come to keith’s side, though; he’s just not entirely there balance wise as he sways and then clamps his hands down on the rig near keith’s hip, steadying himself. he inadvertently melts part of it with his hand.
right. be careful. ]
I’ve got you.
[ it’s an echo of what keith said to him a few minutes ago. it’d almost be funny how they’re trading off in the protective role, if the situation weren’t so sickening. as it is, shiro remains somber as he slices through the metal pins holding those wrist bands, freeing keith’s hands. next is the belt around keith’s midsection and then he’s onto the fastenings around keith’s shins.
… he tries to be careful. really he does. but he’s sloppy both in his haste and in the compromise of his system. he brushes too close to keith’s left leg, the heat of his hand leaving a small, but noticeable burn. ]
[ whatever it is that the sentries jabbed into his neck, keith couldn't say. thoughts are impossible to hold onto, each one disappearing into the thick fog swallowing him whole. the stench of burning cloth makes him grimace one moment, only to be wiped clean by a fresh wave of panic from the thrusting appendage being set up between his legs. eyes squeezed shut, keith braces for the inevitable only to faintly remember that bracing is the last thing he ought to be doing if he doesn't want insertion to rip him open.
panic hits harder then, chest heaving with sharp, anxious breaths even before the commotion taking place not to far away. he cracks open one eye, too dizzy to track the movements properly but his head lulls, tongue slurring the word: ]
Shiwo...
[ as metal cleaves through metal, and something heavy crashes onto the stage floor. keith struggles in his binds, at least subconsciously recognizing that he can't leave shiro to fight alone, though his efforts don't get him anywhere. dilated, unfocused eyes follow a blurry figure lit up in purple approaching the rig, but where his eyes fail him, a familiar voice brings clarity to the rising bile in his throat.
i've got you.
keith opens his mouth, slurring heavily once more as he relaxes into the rig. perhaps he shouldn't because shiro was drugged at a point too. for all keith knows, his boyfriend could well decide to take advantage of the setup, but losing himself increasingly to the heat coursing through his veins, keith arches his back and widens the spread of his legs.
....to his detriment as it turns out.
searing heat rips up his calf as keith chokes back a sob and instinctively lifts his newly freed arms to cover the scar on his cheek. ]
Shiro, please...
[ delirious in his pleading, keith grits his teeth, his burned leg shaking uncontrollably within the bind. ]
Don't... don't do this to me again.
Edited 2023-07-12 00:49 (UTC)
i don't even remember what the compliment was at this point... should've capped it
[ the fuzziness doesn’t last much longer than that. in and out, up and down, his system is working through the drug’s effects; adrenaline zeroed the focus and made everything clear, only for it to lapse as he caught his breath, shaky hands releasing keith from his binds. it’s that lapse that gave room for that inattentive slip, but all it takes is that change in keith’s breathing. how can he be such a livewire of vigilance for keith’s wellbeing one second and such a dumbass the next? he hurt him. he actually hurt him.
shiro rips his hand away so fast, almost like he’s the one who's been burnt. he’s not, of course; quite the opposite, actually. his insides go cold instead, brittle and cracking from the immediate wave of guilt. ]
I’m sorry!
[ it hurts to even draw a breath, the vice-like grip of disdain for his own actions taking a physical toll on him. his heart, too. it feels fragile, like one wrong beat will crack it in two. ]
God, I’m sorry, Keith. I didn’t mean to, I…
[ he looks to keith’s face in the midst of those words, his own pained, but not nearly on the same level as keith’s. the rest of his apology catches in his throat and… – he doesn’t understand the depth of what he’s seeing or hearing. keith said again. don’t do this to him again. and there’s his hand on his cheek, touching the scar that’s been burned into his skin. from the war is the extent of what shiro’s ever gotten as an explanation. now though…
two pieces connect in mind and he understands a little differently, his next breath shaky with a fresh wave of anxiety and dread. this isn’t the time for an interrogation, though, especially when keith’s leg is shaking in the bind, body wrought with pain. ]
I’m sorry. [ how many times will he say it? ] I need… [ he grimaces, because that sounds wrong to say now. swallowing, shiro places his left hand on that shaking leg, trying to soothe it as much as still it. ] I need you to keep still. I’ll get you out. I’ll be more careful.
[ the puprle light goes out, but the burn of his leg persists, with only minimal adrenaline to dampen pain perception. weird, right? pinned on his back an energy blade searing his face, keith could barely register anything. everything was so thoroughly fucked up, not just with the paladins and lotor, but between hima dn shiro, too. it'd been like teetering at a chasm at the end of the universe, staring down the loss of everything and everyone he'd ever cared about, all of it reflected in the eyes of the one person he loves more than anything.
whatever drug got pumped into him softens the razor-sharp edges of the memory, but that means total disembodiment. dissociation. keith drifts in and out, caught between something terrifying and the tender way shiro brushes up and down his leg. he didn't cry then, and he is't going to cry now, but the partly stifled noise keith makes is miserable as he tries to do as told. ]
Okay.... okay... it's gonna be okay...
[ murmured, keith loses sight o what that's even supposed to mean, or who it's for. it's gonna be okay hadn't done anything to soothe an enraged clone back then, but... he's not even dealing with that now, right? the muscles in his legs tense with the effort of staying still, teeth grit like that might keep the fire lighting up his leg inside contained as well.
except there's one thing that slips through the cracks. one desperate attempt to know if things really are going to be okay. ]
[ is keith self-soothing? or is he trying to comfort shiro? it’s gonna be okay. is it? is it actually going to be okay? shiro’s naked, keith’s exposed, shiro’s humiliated, keith’s burned – the both of them together are traumatized, neither of who are fully in control of their own minds and bodies. they need to get out of here. they need time and space to regroup. they need –
love you.
it catches shiro off guard. shiro’s been spinning lies to himself for the past week that they weren’t themselves when they said those words. so much so that he almost has himself believing it. this is what happened last time, though. they were heavily influenced with some sort of drug. shiro isn’t nearly as compromised as he was that first time – or even what he was twenty minutes ago – but it happens anyway: his heart double-times on what has to be a flutter and then he’s slipping. slipping past reservations and self-denial, shiro stares down at keith for an extended beat of wonder and then…? he swallows hard to muzzle the guilt and breathes out: ]
Love you, too.
[ the potency of the drug is fading, has been fading, and so, it doesn’t take long for the second guessing to start. thankfully, it isn’t detrimental enough to distract him from his current task. refocusing on that helps in a number of ways, actually, to which shiro frowns and shakes his head, gaze back to keith’s leg. ]
We need to get out of here. Then we’ll talk. [ he reactivates his right hand. ] I’m going to cut it now. Stay still.
[ he is, indeed, very careful this time. as soon as he cuts through the two straps holding keith’s shins, he lets the power drain from his arm. he’s quicker now, in helping keith sit up and get off. he tugs his pants up for him because it’s faster and then – ]
Come on… I…
[ and that’s when he realizes he’s stark naked. or at least, that’s when he realizes he will remain as such, because where are his clothes? they aren’t anywhere on the stage. did the sentries take them? where would they store them? ]
Fuck, I dunno where… [ they need to get out of here, he tells himself again. keith’s safety is far more important and well – ] Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe.
[ wasting even more time isn’t an option, especially not to look for clothes. they’ve already lingered too long due to shiro’s blunder; more sentries are certain to come any second now. so shiro scoops keith up without another word, making the executive decision that keith’s burn prevents him from using that leg. logical? perhaps not, but shiro is committed, already jumping off the stage to start running. ]
[ the part of the script that keith is intimately familiar with is the balking that follows the i love you. everything else? not so much. the past informs the present, and a less impaired keith would realize telling shiro about the depth of his affection was never going to end well, clone or not.
but with drugs spinning his thoughts thorugh a blender, keith doesn't think. he waits, breath held tight in his throat, and gets back a simple love you, too that sits in his head, competing with the pain for what limited attention he has. vision still blurry, keith looks vacantly at shiro standing between his legs, unflinching even as that purple flickers back on, and attempts to smile through the mess of words that come after.
i don't know where
heh. it's only funny because keith doesn't know where either. or what he's talking about. but he understands that part about needing to go. shiro has to be safe, too, after all. not that he gets a chance to try and move himself. shiro scoops him up and though his limbs feel like lead weights, keith limply hangs on as shiro starts to run. where are they going? it doesn't matter. they're going wherever shiro thinks they should be.
and even if they never get there? ]
M'never giving up on you.
[ it's murmured sluggishly as shiro pushes through the small crowd that's gathered to take in other people's suffering on stage. the inmates don't attempt to stop them, and once they're outside, the sentries haven't regrouped just yet. it's a clear shot to the house they used to frequent, but throughout the frenzied running, keith isn't paying any mind. the one thought that's gripped his soul is to force more strength into the hand draped on shiro's shoulder.
even after they get through the door and shiro stops running to catch his breath, keith stays focused on that same thought. this is different, after all. shiro loves him back, so there won't be any falling from platforms or gradually widening voids where their friendship used to be. ]
[ the run to their old stomping grounds is uneventful. well, as uneventful as streaking can be. it’s uncomfortable, too. nothing quite like free-balling and struggling to keep focus as too many people focus on him racing by, a barely coherent bundle of preciousness secured in his arms. he tries his best to be as inconspicuous as he can given the circumstances; taking the long way around that has them off the main drag and entering from the back of the house. stupid, really, because they’re both wearing ankle monitors and all it’ll take is a bit of typing for those in charge to locate either one of them for further punishment.
this isn’t necessarily about not being found, though. it’s about buying time to clear their systems and to fortify their defenses, because yeah, when they do come for them, shiro will have an easier time picking them off when they have to come through an entrance shiro has the advantage on.
so up the stairs they go and then shiro’s turning into the master suite, a very familiar bed coming into view. it’s as shabby as ever, with its dusty, mostly ripped drapes at the four corners of those canopy pillars, but at least the mattress is soft, to which he makes use of by laying keith down on it. ]
Whatever they pumped you full of needs time to work itself out of your system. So you stay here and let it do that, okay?
[ of all the times shiro’s been to this house, he’s never rifled through the dressers or the closets. it used to be someone’s residence, though, so there is the possibility that he might find clothing that’ll fit him. slim, perhaps, but he can hope. ]
I’m gonna try to find some pants and then keep watch.
[ standing there beside the bed, he hesitates, and then bends down, gently laying his left palm over the top of keith’s head in what is meant to be a stabilizing, as well as comforting gesture. ]
Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m not giving up on you, either. I’m going to keep you safe, no matter what.
[ as keith is gently lowered into the old bed, he lets go under the assumption that shiro will be climbing in as well. turns out, keith is wholly mistaken about that, though the hand on his sweat-dampened face is enough solace to keep a whine at bay.
...at least until shiro makes the wholly rational point about leaving to go find himself some clothes and dignity. ]
Take my pants. S'too hot in here anyway.
[ fumbling to grab shiro's wrist, keith tugs his hand down his face, until his palm makes a comfortable cradle for his cheek. after an indulgent nuzzle, he wriggles, getting his feet planted on the mattresses to lift his hips up for shiro to strip off the prison-issued orange yoga pants. ]
[ the amount of perspiration keith is producing is worrisome. expected, maybe, because his body is fighting against the drug, but expected doesn’t make it any easier to watch. should shiro add that to his list of duties, too? to retrieve some bottles of water? toward the end of their anonymous days, he used to keep a small stash of electrolyte drinks here, often snagging one or two, depending on the duration and enthusiasm expended. he can’t remember if he cleared it out the last time they were here, dicking around with that thong challenge. he’ll have to check.
… in a minute, apparently. is that a legitimate suggestion?
dubiously, shiro shifts his gaze lower to those prison pants, thinking only of size differences in which keith is clearly more petite. but then keith makes the executive decision of not giving shiro any time to turn him down. that ass lifts and shiro is forced to reconsider his earlier assessment: okay, keith isn’t small everywhere. ]
I’ll find you something to drink in a minute. Don’t liquify into goo just yet.
[ then he moves to grasp keith’s pants, more so for the other boy’s comfort than any small possibility that they’ll fit him. for a moment, he almost forgets. his head is overstuffed with worry – the sweating, the sentries, the state of their relationship and how they’re going to navigate all of this in the aftermath – so he doesn’t have the mental capacity to focus on everything. meaning? he grabs at the hem before he comprehends.
but then he sees it. it’s fucking right there in the ruined char of keith’s pants. he hesitates, feeling sick at the mere sight. but then he pulls himself together and works the pants down, being sure to bunch the material as best he can to minimize the fabric snagging over the burn. eventually, he gets the pants off, but he doesn’t immediately go to force them on; he merely stands beside, holding them in both hands. ]
I’ll try to find something for the burn, too. [ he doubts he can miraculously find pain medicine or a healing salve of some kind. a cool compress is probably the best he can do; how pathetic. ]
[ keith heaves a loud sigh of relief as shiro pulls the ruined yoga pants down his legs., flattening his body against the worn mattress once he's undressed. eyes closed, keith's breathing still comes heavy as the drug runs wild in his system. the throbbing burn on his leg hasn't subsided, but the drug wants him to be relaxed, calm, and a little too sensitive to the minute sensations of the sheets as they rub against his sweaty skin. unthinking, keith widens the split of his legs, looking for relief, and whines when the burn rubs raw as he drags his calf. ]
Nnngh, no Shiro -- don't go.
[ he cracks open his eyes, fumbling with an outstretched arm to hold shiro's wrist. ]
We- we haven't been together like this in a while.
[ scrambled as his thoughts are, the truth underlying it feels unshakeable. they haven't been close in some time, have they? but why? someone else was always there, never allowing them the time to talk privately?
no.
i love you.
but then shiro said it back?
keith frowns, pushing aside the inertia of his thoughts to sit up. ]
[ so what is he meant to do? the sentries will come looking for them; probably already are. truthfully, it's a useless endeavor; they’re in prison, there is no permanent escape plan of getting out of punishment. there are only so many places to hide. his goal here, he thinks, is that he wants to buy time for the drugs to work through keith’s system. with a more coherent keith, perhaps they can negotiate their way into lesser punishments. it’s a long shot, but just about the only thing shiro can think of at the moment.
but keith doesn’t want him to go. he doesn’t want him to put on these pants, check the parameter, and go searching for water and bandages. so he asks himself again: what is he meant to do?
well, there’s one thing he knows he shouldn’t do: entertain this conversation that keith is starting. they need to have it, but not when keith is dazed and only partly aware of what is even happening. and yet – ]
I never should've shut you out.
[ the words come to him anyway and now there are too many building up to stop. ]
I thought… I didn't know how to handle what happened. I was – [ embarrassed, mostly; to be so wanton for something he's never craved before. ] – a coward.
[ the too small yoga pants are set down on the bed and once again, shiro crouches bedside. expression pained and voice guilty, shiro pushes back keith’s sweaty bangs. ]
I've been one for a long time.
[ he continues to be, really. because he’s steering the conversation in a certain way, focusing more on the physical, rather than the i love you and the plead to betray their own realities in order to stay together. ]
It was always going to be you to… fuck me. I wanted to choose the moment, but… well, compromised choice is the norm here. Stupid of me to expect anything different.
[ there's a weird thought right there, shiro is the last person in the universe that keith would have called a coward. his best friend is, after all, the person who always manages to defy the odds, no matter how insurmountable they seem. shiro is the guy who was thrown into a brutal alien gladiator arena, only to escape and become the leader of the team that will dismantle that same empire.
coward. yea, right. hilarious.
but keith can't seem to make his llungs work right to laugh. his breathing stays quick and shallow, eyes closing as shiro puts a cool hand on his forehead. it's difficult to focus, let alone think, but keith tries anyway, brow furrowing with the effort as he pushes the raw memory of burning skin farther away.
after all, here isn't an abandoned galra facility hidden in an asteroid realities away.here is a different kind of alien facility where compromised choice is the norm and -- ]
I should've known better.
[ and isn't that the story of his fucking life? whenever it comes to shiro. not just the shiro from his reality that keith had never realized had been replaced with a clone, but this shiro too. expression falling, keith turns his face away, voice thick with regret. ]
Shoulda known. You're the last person I ever wanna do anything to that you don't want and ) - this place made me take advantage of you anyway. I thought - I really thought you liked it, but it turns out I might've raped you, and I - maybe I really do deserve to be here.
YOU DONT SOUND ENTHUSED, which will only anger the brainlink
[ keith turns his face away and it's in that movement that a certain expectation for approach develops in shiro's head. his hand falls away, he won't force keith's face forward again, won't force him to look at him. he'll endure keith's weighted words and navigate through them with patience and gently provided reassurances. they'll get through this slowly and carefully, as the drugs lose their effectiveness. they'll make time for it. it'll be fine. shiro can do that. shiro can –
– I might've raped you –
it's akin to being slapped. that word. that god awful word. not just that, either, but that word in keith's voice, so guilty, so distressed, so self-loathing…
expectation changes and the plan is rewritten in an instant. the gentleness is gone from his voice, as well as his face. the steadiness of his patience breaks and then words are spilling out, every syllable firm with unquestionable certainty. ]
You did not rape me.
[ he fails in masking his frustration. it isn't wholly directed at keith. per usual, most of it is reserved for himself. he used to be better at this; at controlling his emotions and ensuring others saw only what he deemed acceptable to show. is it the lingering trace of drugs in his system that makes him sloppy? the anxiety fueled adrenaline of their situation? or is it simply because he lacks the restraint when it comes to keith? keith, who is both his strength and his weakness, the balance between the two so precarious that shiro is often fighting within himself, trying to find his own footing.
he shouldn't be surprised. that's what love does to a person.
clenching his jaw tight in the aftermath of spitting out that dirty word, shiro gnashes his teeth until they hurt and then, only then, is he able to bring himself back into check for a conscious calming of his voice. ]
I wanted you. [ not the entire truth, he tells himself. ] I want you still.
[ remember his plan to let keith look away and collect himself, as shiro slowly coaxes him into looking at him again? so much for that. shiro grasps keith by the chin and turns his face toward him, because as much as he wants to say it's for keith, the move is mostly for shiro. shiro needs the connection. he needs to erase those ill thoughts from keith's head and replace them with understanding and truth. as shiro should have done from the beginning. fuck, just… has keith been toiling over this idea of raping him for the entire week…?
remorse thickens his voice again, everything heavy and slow like molasses. not due to hesitation this time, but the weight of his own damnation. ]
You were so good to me, baby. So gentle, so caring… don't you dare think any part of it was… [ unwanted. unreciprocated. rape. ] – that. You'd never do something like that to me. [ his hand moves from his chin to his cheek, keeping keith turned toward him with a curl of his fingers and a caress of his thumb. ] Because you're good. So good to me.
[ here's the waver. just a moment of hesitation. even now, it's difficult for him to be wholly honest with himself, as he distances his own desires from that of responsibility. ultimately, it is responsibility that wins… but it's responsibility to keith, not to voltron and not to his own reality. ]
That's why I love you. I love you so much, baby… I meant it then and I mean it now. That hasn't changed.
[ the forcefulness of shiro's tone makes keith flinch, even as the words themselves ought to be reassuring. the way this messed up rison is run, it's clear that nobody gives a fuck about consent. even their first time when they were two strangers on opposite sides of a library bookshelf had arguably been a form of rape as well, even if they were likely both victims of circumstance. in that sense, their relationship has been steeped in choices that neither would have made if they were clear of mind. hell, perhaps they'd have never gtten together in the first place.
nothing trips keith over his own thoughts like that one does. for all that he hates the way reparacija operates, where would the best relationship of his life be without it? if they could be free tomorrow, but never see each other again, would he really be able to turn his back on this codemned hell hole? is itbad that doesn't have a fucking answer? and what does it say about him that when shiro forces him to hold eye contact that keith crumbles under the knowledge that he doesn't want shiro to leave him behind?
you were so good to me, so caring.... that's why i love you.
heart squeezing painfully tight, keith looks up at shiro with growing despondence. ]
But... but I'm not. I'm not good to you.
[ gingerly, keith wraps his fingers around shiro's wrist, holding on in silent desperation. ]
If I could, I'd keep you with me. Even if it means being stuck in this horrible place.
[ hell, even if it means falling from a platform to oblivion. ]
shhhh everything is fine. we get to have good food today
– but not when he’s on this side of it. self-deprecation and self-sacrifice are habitual things shiro is, unfortunately, well-versed in. of course he realizes that every time he distances himself from keith for one reason or another, it’s frustrating to keith. painful, too, but he’s always thought it to be a pain born from being denied what he wants in the moment. it hurts for another reason, though, huh? it actually hurts to sit here and listen, watch, feel keith closing in on himself with bitter words.
shiro has many regrets, some too traumatic to even begin to put into words, this here, though? this he can verbalize: he’s the one who is not good to keith. keith deserves better than someone who can’t get his thoughts and emotions in check. someone who can be open and honest from the beginning. someone who isn’t perpetually torn between love and obligation. someone who –
fuck, he’s doing it again.
if i could, i’d keep you with me.
as self-serving as it feels, like he’s the one getting the better end of the bargain, shiro banishes the temptation to talk himself down into a black hole of loathing, instead putting all of his focus back where it belongs: on keith. his smile is bittersweet, his expression never progressing further than what can only be deemed apologetic. his touch continues to be steady and sweet however, thumb scooting across his cheek again. ]
We can’t stay here, sweetheart.
[ punishment looms. they may not be able to escape being discovered for their latest acts, but they can’t keep doing this. they can’t settle for compromised autonomy and a small, secluded world. shiro’s drive to explore and experience the unknown may have darkened somewhat from what it used to be, but keith… fuck, shiro can’t stomach the thought of someone as beautiful and vibrant as this boy being locked up forever. keith is meant to soar, not to have his wings clipped so readily.
taking a breath, shiro forces his voice lighter, hope and encouragement coloring his next words. ]
But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep me.
[ another caress of his thumb and then he bows a little closer, voice softening as though sharing a secret. ]
… You promised, remember? I’m counting on you to help me figure this out… because I need you just as much.
[ shiro is certainly not wrong about that. no matter what keith feels, they can't stay here if only because shiro doesn't deserve to spend another day of his life wasting away in an alien prison. there may not be any death matches in a gladiator arena here, but just now they built a stage and shiro was right there, bound up like a sex toy for use by an ogling public. conditions at porn prison have deteriorated steadily, and the last thing keith wants for shiro is to be violated and used for entertainment in yet another fucking institution.
but even knowing all that, it's hard not to be selfish in his reflections of the aftermath. separated from his boyfriend by entire realities, forever haunted by the white-haired version of the shiro in his reality of all the things they could have been but never were.
shiro's hand is a warm constant on his face, and keith blinks slow through the rest of his words. leaving porn prison and keeping shiro has always been at odds with each other, if only because the end goal of escaping here is an inevitable return to their respective realities. or at least, it had always been one and the same because abandoning their realities had been utterly unthinkable.
up until now, that is. shiro comes closer and an impossibly heavy weight comes off keith's soul as the unthinkable is allowed, even briefly, to become thinkable. eyes widening, keith stares up, his grip inadvertently going slack on his boy's wrist. ]
... You really mean that? It's not something messed up in your system again?
ROFL it's so sad... i'm still laughing/crying over the chances of that happening
[ shiro is ashamed to admit that doesn't simply roll off his back. he's still getting tripped up in emotion. frustration, partly, due to bump after obstacle after inability for any of this to be easy. remorse, as always, for leading keith to doubt through his avoidance and subsequent neglect. patience yields focus, yada yada, that does keep him steady to a point, but he has to continually set himself back on track, telling himself, no, don’t wallow, don’t falter. it doesn’t matter if this isn’t smooth or easy; they’ll eventually get to a good place as long as shiro keeps talking.
… supposedly. it’s clear that the drugs are still potent in this boy’s system. is keith even capable of fully comprehending, as well as remembering all of this when he’s no longer compromised?
uncertain, but having no alternative, because he can’t simply stop now, shiro keeps his hand at keith’s face and lifts his other, gently pulling that loosened grip looser. ]
I really mean it.
[ he doesn’t look away from that wide-eyed stare, making sure that the meaning of those words hit their point and sink in. as for keith’s hand, shiro takes those slackened fingers and holds them, resting their combined hands over keith’s sternum. it’s a slight criss crossing of limbs, but shiro likes having all the points of contact, hoping that keith feels as grounded as he does in the moment. ]
[ with the artificial fog still thick in his head, keith smiles up at shiro, simply letting his boyfriend adjust the placement of their hands however he sees fit. for how complicated this all is, keith simply looks docile, easily comforted by the concept of being together.
but words are easy, actions are not. if shiro truly wants them to be together, then this past week of intangible distance shouldn't have happened. the contradiction picks and picks away at the back of keith's skull until doubt dims the warmth of his adoration. ]
But you were mad at me, right? For what I did to you?
[ rape, that is. the sole reason keith avoids using the ugly word again is down to the intensity of shiro's reaction the first time. ]
I... I don't know how to make things right, Shiro.
[ they’re going in circles. it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself for picking now, when keith is so obviously struggling to focus and process, to have this conversation. the timing is horrible… but that’s the usual with shiro, isn’t it? nothing can ever be easy between them and shiro has no one to blame but himself. wincing internally, shiro allows that one beat down on himself before he works himself free of it, slipping just enough in his steadfastness to sigh aloud.
they’ll talk about this again, he knows. once keith is clear-headed. once neither of them are stripped down in a horridly uncertain situation. and once they’re free of the overreaching danger of being discovered and subsequently punished. maybe then it won’t be such a battle for shiro to convince keith that his intentions are genuine. for now, though, he tries his best to settle keith just enough to put a crack in that doubt.
and the quickest way to do that? he leans down and takes a kiss from his mouth, resting solid and resting heavy, to make keith really feel the weight of everything shiro is feeling. no open mouth and no tongue, just a firm meeting of their lips as shiro holds and holds, breaking away after a few, long beats. ]
I’m not mad. [ wait. that’s not entirely true. ] Not at you.
[ better. he sighs again, still keeping all points of contact between them. ]
I’m mad that I’m an idiot when it comes to you.
[ he used to be so much better at this. oddly enough, he was better at managing their relationship when they hardly had one; back in the garrison days, when he was diligently working at gaining this disgruntled kid’s trust. now… sometimes shiro truly believes that everything that’s happened to him has damaged him beyond repair.
or maybe that’s a scapegoat. afterall, his track record for love isn’t stellar. can he honestly say that he was open and honest with adam in all aspects of their relationship, too? that he was always understanding and patient? for how readily available he makes himself to building people up when they need it, does he truly know how to love unconditionally? maybe not, he thinks… but he’s learning. he’s trying. he already loves this boy, he knows it, he feels it. he just… needs to love him better.
god, even in the privacy of his own head, that sounds stupid enough for him to be embarrassed by it. it’s true, though. keith is it for him and one day, shiro is going to make him believe it. ]
I know I haven’t given you enough reason to believe me, but try to, baby. I love you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
JUNE EVENT; cw: linked fanart is racy bondage??
he’s seen keith, of course, but that’s the extent of it. no shared laughter, no secretive smiles, no kissing, no holding, no fucking… – there’s an awkwardness between them now, one that doesn’t pit them as strangers to one another like a break-up would, but something edging ever closer to that. it’s bringing up some sour memories. this isn’t like his break-up to adam. it’s not a break-up at all; they’re fine. but shiro does remember that ever present, anxious feeling whenever he left his newly moved into, garrison provided single-dwelling. part worried, part annoyed at the never-ending chance of running across his ex-fiancé in the halls, the cafeteria, the officer lounge.
it’s not like that with keith, he reminds himself. the stark difference here is that he wants to see keith, even though every interaction of the past week has left him hollowed out and guilty, continually at a loss of how to rectify the misunderstanding between them. the problem here is that although he does recognize that he misspoke in an explanation that didn’t explain anything at all – we weren’t ourselves, keith – there’s also a part of him that stubbornly resists any obligation to explain himself. or god forbid, apologize.
… but hell, retiring every night to this bed that is far too large now, has weakened that resistance. he’s spent more of his life sleeping alone than he has sleeping with someone beside him, so theoretically, he should be better suited to sleeping alone. he’s not. it’s always particularly difficult to relearn how to sleep alone. frankly, he doesn’t want to relearn how to do that, because there are no words to adequately describe how wonderful it is to open his eyes each morning and find his best friend snuggled against him.
he can’t endure another morning without that. he can’t toss and turn through an entire night again, either.
if he showed up at keith’s cube right now, just as he is – empty-handed and a touch droopy-eyed from another horrid night – keith would likely accept him anyway. but shiro increases his odds by first taking a shower and then heading off to the dining hall to get some food in him. though his brain tells him he doesn’t have much of an appetite, his stomach disagrees. loudly. so he goes and he gets, settling on something quick by raiding the pastries. he specifically pilfers away a few extra, thinking that a peace offering of sugary sweetness can only help his chances of getting in the door.
turns out he’s wrong, because he never gets to keith’s cube.
see, he saw the broadcast this morning. it was concerning, of course, especially the lack of details of what is deemed punishable, but having dealt with confusing, not at all reliable rules on what these aliens deem enforceable, shiro’s decided that setting things right with keith takes far more precedence than doing the prudent thing of hunkering down in his cube.
it’s a mistake.
apparently, walking out of dining with extra food is now considered an offense. hoarder, greedy, taking more than his fair share… the sentries are not having it. and so shiro lets them lead him away. anxious, but assuming it will be little more than an inconvenience of time and a slap on the wrist, shiro cooperates all the way to some new structure that is still in the process of being built. everything after that is a whirlwind of escalating atrocities.
he probably shouldn’t have busted that first sentry that tried to rough him around into following the command of full-body stripping. the remaining sentries – and a few more that appear from somewhere – are on him shortly after that, jabbing him with something that makes everything foggy and rather pleasant after that. neutralized by a drug that makes him compliant and absent of inhibitors, shiro winds up naked shortly thereafter.
mostly.
because they clap a collar on him, fasten belted ropes around him, and hook up… a contraption. if he’s so greedy for second and third helpings, then he should make no protests to whoever decides to unzip and cum dump in the funnel, right? either way, shiro’s too warm, too antsy, and too out of it to care, his muffled noises accentuated by the funnel. ]
( ooc: so the fanart but without the panties and the funnel connection is shorter? I DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S WHAT THIS FANART IS SUPPOSED TO BE but let's go with that. fanart by BlopNSFW @ twitter )
how dare
of course, the two events aren't causally related, but timed one after another, it's hard not to be constantly uneasy over the escalation of dreary uncertainty. they're supposed to be stronger together, weathering whatever storms come their way, but these days they sleep apart and keep conversation at such a superficial level that keith would almost prefer not talking at all.
but that isn't what keith actually wants. he wants to be with shiro, and have his boyfriend back, even though it's unbearably lonely to be in love. because yeah, sure, neither of them were in their right minds when i love you was freely traded back and forth, but keith can't pretend that it hasn't knocked something into alignment in his soul.
in some sick way, this sudden distance is familiar. keith had never been in love with the shiro from his reality, but their friendship hasn't been the same. here in prison, it feels a lot like watching history repeat itself, slow and cruel. keith hates it with ever atom in his body, but he doesn't know how to pretend or lie about his feelings the way shiro wants him to.
so maybe the newly established warden and his ominous threats are actually a blessing in disguise. surely this warrants discussion together? long after the space wolf's fallen asleep after listening to keith talk himself in mental circles, he finally gets up. armed with nothing but speculation however, keith decides he ought to go to shiro's cube with something more useful. scoping out the new construction site that's just been rushed to completion would at least be a starting point.
it's still early enough to avoid some repercussions for breaking curfew, but with limited time on his hands, keith hurriedly makes it toward the completed construction site to find a stage. having been in porn prison long enough, keith has no doubts as to why this stage was fucking built in the first place, but soon enough it's not the assortment of horrible bondage rigs that holds his attention. ]
...Shiro?
[ keith almost doesn't recognize him because this doesn't seem like something shiro would participate in. but even uncharacteristcally posed naked, bound and gagged with some stomach-churning funnel attachment, there's no mistaking that the man on stage is shiro.
heart pounding in his chest, keith forgets everything else, pushing past a crowd of ogling inmates to elbow and muscle his way onto the stage. one word -- one sign that shiro actually wants to be here, and keith swears that he'll back the fuck off and stop acting like he has any claim to shiro in anyway, but until then: ]
Shiro!
[ trying desperately not to look in the funnel to see if it's been used or not, keith instead kneels to the ground to hold his best friends' face. the eyes are all wrong. vacant, glassy, and staring -- keith finds himself unable to breathe, think or feel anything, all sensation shattered. ]
Shiro, who did this to you?
ino. i should do better in shielding our secret fans from such eye filth
the drug has him running hot, however. so he keeps making these soft panting sounds into the mouthpiece, feeling the lightest sheen of sweat at his nape and his forehead, neither of which he can wipe away. even that doesn’t distress him. he tries, occasionally, to lift an arm to brush the wetness away, only to remember that oh yeah, he can’t move his arms. still, he doesn’t activate his galra arm to burn through the bindings. he doesn’t even think to. he doesn’t think to do much of anything except blink slow and drowsy, staring without truly seeing as minutes continue to drag and drag…
but then keith shows up.
he hears his name a few times, but it isn’t until keith is physically in front of him, so close that shiro can do nothing other than see him, that shiro finally remembers how to do something more than pant. he whines, instead.
keith. keith. he knows this boy. he loves this boy. everything is wonderful and safe and wanted when he is with keith. his brain may be too cotton-stuffed to process much of anything, but he doesn’t need to consciously think that through to know it. keith is here, which means here is where shiro wants to be.
the hands on his face are good. so good. briefly, shiro’s eyes slide shut and he sways into those hands, grabbling something that sounds suspiciously close to keith’s name. eyes reopen and even with them remaining glassy and void of sharp awareness, a hint of determination settles into his features. for the first time in hours, he shifts his body, trying to wriggle in his bindings to get closer to keith: he lean against, to bury against, to be as close as keith will allow him to be.
… which doesn’t go over well with the two sentries at the other end of the stage, which turn and begin advancing. if keith isn’t here to use the funnel, then his access to the stage is to be revoked. ]
/gets the shame bell
he never gets an answer to who did this to shiro, and that doesn't matter because that was never the right question to start with. in fact, what he should have said from the start is: ]
Shh, shh, I got you, Shiro. I'll get you away from here.
[ keith brushes shiro's sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead before reaching around to loosen the strap tied around his skull. if he'd bothered playing with these sorts of sex toys in class, maybe he could have popped that off without much fumbling. as it is, keith struggles with the buckle, overly conscientious of not hurting shiro by pinching his scalp or pulling his hair. ]
Sorry, I'm trying to get this loose ...
[ but he trilas off. heavy footsteps are approaching and while that doesn't necessarily mean anything bad as they could be coming for any of the other inmates on display, a glance up makes keith's stomach sink when he realizes they can't be so lucky.
the two sentries approach, and keith grows more agitated as he applies more force to finally get the buckle off to disconnect shiro from the blasted funnel. but with time running out, keith doesn't check in. instead his hands move down to the next belt looped around shiro's body. ]
Halt. You are not authorized to release inmate Takashi Sihrogane from his public service. Step away from the prisoner with your hands in the air.
[ keith grits his teeth, not paying the damn warning any mind. he does, however, glance up to estimate a distance. with the sentries already halfway across the stage, keith is faced with one of two options.
1) haul shiro up bodily and bolt
2) take out the two sentries, and then grab shiro.
with twenty steps left, keith scowls. neither option is looking great, of course, but that first one isn't really an option at all. how far would they even get like that? he spares a tick to kiss shiro's forehead and whispers: ]
Just hang in there a little longer.
DON'T YOU START REPEATING SHAME AT ME
keith said he’d get him away from here and so, shiro sits tight, letting keith do just that. at least until the sentries start across the staging platform. sentries, they’re bad, they put him in this position, they’re going to restrap the belt keith just got off of him…?
halt –
shiro makes a low, distressed sound in his throat and then, as he opens his mouth and works it over, stretching out the cramped way it’s been kept for hours, he manages a much more clear: ]
Keith.
[ helpful, huh? keith is turned to him again anyway, gentle in the way he kisses his forehead. ]
Inmate AA0005 is in violation of section 13-8411. Repeat, step away from the prisoner with your hands in the air. Move now or be forcibly removed from this area.
[ shiro’s almost there. he’s slowly dredging through the dope in his system, clawing his way out of the fog to begin feeling the anxiety ridden adrenaline spike necessary to finally offer him the clarity to do something other than blink slow and absent. not yet, though. he still sits there mostly bound, the only conscious thought now leading him to the faint realization that he’d been looking for keith earlier. and why had he been looking for keith earlier? ]
‘m sorry.
[ it’s mumbled and faint, not at all worthy of the apology he knows, deep down, he’s meant to give keith. ]
i suppose you are a good bean who doesn't deserve this... (cw: nsfw image link)
taken aback, keith stares for a moment, brow furrowing as he tries to work out what this apology is even for. the unspoken distance that's permeated their relationship this past week? getting keith caught up in yet another altercation with prison staff? or is there something to the possibility that shiro had been here voluntarily in search of something keith couldn't give him?
whatever the case is, keith lets the lead-weight melancholy expand in his chest for two beats before shaking his head. this isn't the time or place to be discussing much of anything. ]
Later.
[ he kisses shiro's forehead again, a quick fleeting thing, and then keith is up on his feet, taking a step away from shiro to face the two approaching sentries.
one centering breath is what keith allows himself. no room for doubt, hesitation, or mistakes. he doesn't attempt to stall or delay the confrontation by responding with an explanation of a threat of his own. instead, he charges down the stage towards the two sentries, a white light in his hands as the black bayard teleports and activates, taking the form of a familiar sword.
his first swing with the blade bisects the first sentry, its top half tumbling onto the stage in a shower of sparks and whirring circuitry. thesecond sentry meets a similar fate as keith knocks it back by impaling it through the chest plate. it goes down, voice heavily distorting as its power goes offline: ]
Inmate AA0005, drop your weapon. I repeaaaaaaat
[ keith expels a heavy breath, watching as the sensor lights in both sentries blink off and the robots lie still. maybe that'll result in misconduct, maybe it won't, but either way, keith deactivates the bayard and quickly moves back to shiro knowing that there's only a small window of time before reinforcements show up.]
C"mon.
[ but that time estimate was made with a previous warden in mind. this one, the new guy who promised there'd be more stringent crackdowns, evidently has every intention of keeping his word. keith barely makes it three steps back toward shiro when something sharp hits the back of his neck. pain shoots down his spine and keith buckles, falling onto his knees as his vision blurs and doubles.
hot. why is everything so burning hot?
from backstage, two more sentries emerge, one lowering a tranq gun as they approach. together, the two haul keith up onto his feet. keith ragdolls between the two of them, his head and body too heavy to lift or put up a proper protest as they throw him on a bondage rig. ruthless in their efficiency, the sentries secure keith's arms to the frame, before ripping off his pants and forcing his legs wide open. unable to think clearly, keith groans and whines pitifully. ]
Inmate AA0005.You have been issued an infraction. You are hereby sentenced to 24 hours of public service.
[ keith doesn't fully hear it. not really. instead he turns his face, trying to find... his bayard? no. trying to find shiro somewhere, only for his focus to snap between his legs as the sentries secure an adjustable extension for a large pistoning phallus into place. even through the drug-fueled lethargy, the sight of it awakens some primal terror. thrashing heavily in his binds, keith screams.
i would screenshot good bean but everything else about the screenshot would be incriminating
[ the situation is a precarious one. it isn’t lost on shiro completely. the apology may be said and done, but the unease stays as he watches keith dispose of the sentries with chilling efficiency. unmoved from his spot, shiro does manage a meager mustering of a smile as keith turns back to him. good job, comes to mind, but he doesn’t find the effort to move his mouth to say it. just as well, because in no time at all, something else is being ripped from his vocal cords instead. ]
No!
[ simple, yet anguished, the protest fails to make any sort of impact as keith ragdolls into a heap that is then apprehended. keith, he thinks. help him, whispers in next. reflex isn’t quick, however. he eases into his movements, as if relearning how to do something as straightforward as moving his arms to test the bindings keith didn’t finish undoing. motivation is building quickly and with each shift, the next comes easier, quicker, stronger. keith’s being hauled onto an apparatus now, groaning, whining, screaming –
there it is. there’s the spark of purple that engulfs his hand and spreads upwards, drawing lines into the metal that forms his arm. a force of will has the metal burning hotter until it simply burns through the strap. the others suffer similar fates as shiro maneuvers his hand, slicing through them.
he stumbles into his first step, but it's sheer determination that carries him through the drugs that continue to weigh his limbs and off-center his perceptions. he may be less coordinated than his usual athleticism affords him, but he’s a freight train of power as he throws his mass at the sentries now turning to him. one decapitation and one punch through… neither feel any pain, of course, and shiro is sick enough in his haze that he’s almost disappointed by that fact. how dare they touch keith. how dare they put him in this… this… ]
Fuck.
[ his foot drags against the stage in his next step, the line of which diagonals. he manages to come to keith’s side, though; he’s just not entirely there balance wise as he sways and then clamps his hands down on the rig near keith’s hip, steadying himself. he inadvertently melts part of it with his hand.
right. be careful. ]
I’ve got you.
[ it’s an echo of what keith said to him a few minutes ago. it’d almost be funny how they’re trading off in the protective role, if the situation weren’t so sickening. as it is, shiro remains somber as he slices through the metal pins holding those wrist bands, freeing keith’s hands. next is the belt around keith’s midsection and then he’s onto the fastenings around keith’s shins.
… he tries to be careful. really he does. but he’s sloppy both in his haste and in the compromise of his system. he brushes too close to keith’s left leg, the heat of his hand leaving a small, but noticeable burn. ]
LOL the secret to uncappable compliments...
panic hits harder then, chest heaving with sharp, anxious breaths even before the commotion taking place not to far away. he cracks open one eye, too dizzy to track the movements properly but his head lulls, tongue slurring the word: ]
Shiwo...
[ as metal cleaves through metal, and something heavy crashes onto the stage floor. keith struggles in his binds, at least subconsciously recognizing that he can't leave shiro to fight alone, though his efforts don't get him anywhere. dilated, unfocused eyes follow a blurry figure lit up in purple approaching the rig, but where his eyes fail him, a familiar voice brings clarity to the rising bile in his throat.
i've got you.
keith opens his mouth, slurring heavily once more as he relaxes into the rig. perhaps he shouldn't because shiro was drugged at a point too. for all keith knows, his boyfriend could well decide to take advantage of the setup, but losing himself increasingly to the heat coursing through his veins, keith arches his back and widens the spread of his legs.
....to his detriment as it turns out.
searing heat rips up his calf as keith chokes back a sob and instinctively lifts his newly freed arms to cover the scar on his cheek. ]
Shiro, please...
[ delirious in his pleading, keith grits his teeth, his burned leg shaking uncontrollably within the bind. ]
Don't... don't do this to me again.
i don't even remember what the compliment was at this point... should've capped it
shiro rips his hand away so fast, almost like he’s the one who's been burnt. he’s not, of course; quite the opposite, actually. his insides go cold instead, brittle and cracking from the immediate wave of guilt. ]
I’m sorry!
[ it hurts to even draw a breath, the vice-like grip of disdain for his own actions taking a physical toll on him. his heart, too. it feels fragile, like one wrong beat will crack it in two. ]
God, I’m sorry, Keith. I didn’t mean to, I…
[ he looks to keith’s face in the midst of those words, his own pained, but not nearly on the same level as keith’s. the rest of his apology catches in his throat and… – he doesn’t understand the depth of what he’s seeing or hearing. keith said again. don’t do this to him again. and there’s his hand on his cheek, touching the scar that’s been burned into his skin. from the war is the extent of what shiro’s ever gotten as an explanation. now though…
two pieces connect in mind and he understands a little differently, his next breath shaky with a fresh wave of anxiety and dread. this isn’t the time for an interrogation, though, especially when keith’s leg is shaking in the bind, body wrought with pain. ]
I’m sorry. [ how many times will he say it? ] I need… [ he grimaces, because that sounds wrong to say now. swallowing, shiro places his left hand on that shaking leg, trying to soothe it as much as still it. ] I need you to keep still. I’ll get you out. I’ll be more careful.
it's in the subject lines!!
whatever drug got pumped into him softens the razor-sharp edges of the memory, but that means total disembodiment. dissociation. keith drifts in and out, caught between something terrifying and the tender way shiro brushes up and down his leg. he didn't cry then, and he is't going to cry now, but the partly stifled noise keith makes is miserable as he tries to do as told. ]
Okay.... okay... it's gonna be okay...
[ murmured, keith loses sight o what that's even supposed to mean, or who it's for. it's gonna be okay hadn't done anything to soothe an enraged clone back then, but... he's not even dealing with that now, right? the muscles in his legs tense with the effort of staying still, teeth grit like that might keep the fire lighting up his leg inside contained as well.
except there's one thing that slips through the cracks. one desperate attempt to know if things really are going to be okay. ]
Love you.
you expect me to scroll???
love you.
it catches shiro off guard. shiro’s been spinning lies to himself for the past week that they weren’t themselves when they said those words. so much so that he almost has himself believing it. this is what happened last time, though. they were heavily influenced with some sort of drug. shiro isn’t nearly as compromised as he was that first time – or even what he was twenty minutes ago – but it happens anyway: his heart double-times on what has to be a flutter and then he’s slipping. slipping past reservations and self-denial, shiro stares down at keith for an extended beat of wonder and then…? he swallows hard to muzzle the guilt and breathes out: ]
Love you, too.
[ the potency of the drug is fading, has been fading, and so, it doesn’t take long for the second guessing to start. thankfully, it isn’t detrimental enough to distract him from his current task. refocusing on that helps in a number of ways, actually, to which shiro frowns and shakes his head, gaze back to keith’s leg. ]
We need to get out of here. Then we’ll talk. [ he reactivates his right hand. ] I’m going to cut it now. Stay still.
[ he is, indeed, very careful this time. as soon as he cuts through the two straps holding keith’s shins, he lets the power drain from his arm. he’s quicker now, in helping keith sit up and get off. he tugs his pants up for him because it’s faster and then – ]
Come on… I…
[ and that’s when he realizes he’s stark naked. or at least, that’s when he realizes he will remain as such, because where are his clothes? they aren’t anywhere on the stage. did the sentries take them? where would they store them? ]
Fuck, I dunno where… [ they need to get out of here, he tells himself again. keith’s safety is far more important and well – ] Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe.
[ wasting even more time isn’t an option, especially not to look for clothes. they’ve already lingered too long due to shiro’s blunder; more sentries are certain to come any second now. so shiro scoops keith up without another word, making the executive decision that keith’s burn prevents him from using that leg. logical? perhaps not, but shiro is committed, already jumping off the stage to start running. ]
ah yes... the effort...
but with drugs spinning his thoughts thorugh a blender, keith doesn't think. he waits, breath held tight in his throat, and gets back a simple love you, too that sits in his head, competing with the pain for what limited attention he has. vision still blurry, keith looks vacantly at shiro standing between his legs, unflinching even as that purple flickers back on, and attempts to smile through the mess of words that come after.
i don't know where
heh. it's only funny because keith doesn't know where either. or what he's talking about. but he understands that part about needing to go. shiro has to be safe, too, after all. not that he gets a chance to try and move himself. shiro scoops him up and though his limbs feel like lead weights, keith limply hangs on as shiro starts to run. where are they going? it doesn't matter. they're going wherever shiro thinks they should be.
and even if they never get there? ]
M'never giving up on you.
[ it's murmured sluggishly as shiro pushes through the small crowd that's gathered to take in other people's suffering on stage. the inmates don't attempt to stop them, and once they're outside, the sentries haven't regrouped just yet. it's a clear shot to the house they used to frequent, but throughout the frenzied running, keith isn't paying any mind. the one thought that's gripped his soul is to force more strength into the hand draped on shiro's shoulder.
even after they get through the door and shiro stops running to catch his breath, keith stays focused on that same thought. this is different, after all. shiro loves him back, so there won't be any falling from platforms or gradually widening voids where their friendship used to be. ]
don't judge my laziness
this isn’t necessarily about not being found, though. it’s about buying time to clear their systems and to fortify their defenses, because yeah, when they do come for them, shiro will have an easier time picking them off when they have to come through an entrance shiro has the advantage on.
so up the stairs they go and then shiro’s turning into the master suite, a very familiar bed coming into view. it’s as shabby as ever, with its dusty, mostly ripped drapes at the four corners of those canopy pillars, but at least the mattress is soft, to which he makes use of by laying keith down on it. ]
Whatever they pumped you full of needs time to work itself out of your system. So you stay here and let it do that, okay?
[ of all the times shiro’s been to this house, he’s never rifled through the dressers or the closets. it used to be someone’s residence, though, so there is the possibility that he might find clothing that’ll fit him. slim, perhaps, but he can hope. ]
I’m gonna try to find some pants and then keep watch.
[ standing there beside the bed, he hesitates, and then bends down, gently laying his left palm over the top of keith’s head in what is meant to be a stabilizing, as well as comforting gesture. ]
Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m not giving up on you, either. I’m going to keep you safe, no matter what.
i accept you okok
...at least until shiro makes the wholly rational point about leaving to go find himself some clothes and dignity. ]
Take my pants. S'too hot in here anyway.
[ fumbling to grab shiro's wrist, keith tugs his hand down his face, until his palm makes a comfortable cradle for his cheek. after an indulgent nuzzle, he wriggles, getting his feet planted on the mattresses to lift his hips up for shiro to strip off the prison-issued orange yoga pants. ]
I'm melting. Can't protect you if I'm melting.
good bc we are glued
… in a minute, apparently. is that a legitimate suggestion?
dubiously, shiro shifts his gaze lower to those prison pants, thinking only of size differences in which keith is clearly more petite. but then keith makes the executive decision of not giving shiro any time to turn him down. that ass lifts and shiro is forced to reconsider his earlier assessment: okay, keith isn’t small everywhere. ]
I’ll find you something to drink in a minute. Don’t liquify into goo just yet.
[ then he moves to grasp keith’s pants, more so for the other boy’s comfort than any small possibility that they’ll fit him. for a moment, he almost forgets. his head is overstuffed with worry – the sweating, the sentries, the state of their relationship and how they’re going to navigate all of this in the aftermath – so he doesn’t have the mental capacity to focus on everything. meaning? he grabs at the hem before he comprehends.
but then he sees it. it’s fucking right there in the ruined char of keith’s pants. he hesitates, feeling sick at the mere sight. but then he pulls himself together and works the pants down, being sure to bunch the material as best he can to minimize the fabric snagging over the burn. eventually, he gets the pants off, but he doesn’t immediately go to force them on; he merely stands beside, holding them in both hands. ]
I’ll try to find something for the burn, too. [ he doubts he can miraculously find pain medicine or a healing salve of some kind. a cool compress is probably the best he can do; how pathetic. ]
glued, taped, brainlinked.... gosh LOL
Nnngh, no Shiro -- don't go.
[ he cracks open his eyes, fumbling with an outstretched arm to hold shiro's wrist. ]
We- we haven't been together like this in a while.
[ scrambled as his thoughts are, the truth underlying it feels unshakeable. they haven't been close in some time, have they? but why? someone else was always there, never allowing them the time to talk privately?
no.
i love you.
but then shiro said it back?
keith frowns, pushing aside the inertia of his thoughts to sit up. ]
I don't wanna be alone like that again.
IS THIS A BAD THING
but keith doesn’t want him to go. he doesn’t want him to put on these pants, check the parameter, and go searching for water and bandages. so he asks himself again: what is he meant to do?
well, there’s one thing he knows he shouldn’t do: entertain this conversation that keith is starting. they need to have it, but not when keith is dazed and only partly aware of what is even happening. and yet – ]
I never should've shut you out.
[ the words come to him anyway and now there are too many building up to stop. ]
I thought… I didn't know how to handle what happened. I was – [ embarrassed, mostly; to be so wanton for something he's never craved before. ] – a coward.
[ the too small yoga pants are set down on the bed and once again, shiro crouches bedside. expression pained and voice guilty, shiro pushes back keith’s sweaty bangs. ]
I've been one for a long time.
[ he continues to be, really. because he’s steering the conversation in a certain way, focusing more on the physical, rather than the i love you and the plead to betray their own realities in order to stay together. ]
It was always going to be you to… fuck me. I wanted to choose the moment, but… well, compromised choice is the norm here. Stupid of me to expect anything different.
I SUPPOSE NOT.
coward. yea, right. hilarious.
but keith can't seem to make his llungs work right to laugh. his breathing stays quick and shallow, eyes closing as shiro puts a cool hand on his forehead. it's difficult to focus, let alone think, but keith tries anyway, brow furrowing with the effort as he pushes the raw memory of burning skin farther away.
after all, here isn't an abandoned galra facility hidden in an asteroid realities away.here is a different kind of alien facility where compromised choice is the norm and -- ]
I should've known better.
[ and isn't that the story of his fucking life? whenever it comes to shiro. not just the shiro from his reality that keith had never realized had been replaced with a clone, but this shiro too. expression falling, keith turns his face away, voice thick with regret. ]
Shoulda known. You're the last person I ever wanna do anything to that you don't want and ) - this place made me take advantage of you anyway. I thought - I really thought you liked it, but it turns out I might've raped you, and I - maybe I really do deserve to be here.
YOU DONT SOUND ENTHUSED, which will only anger the brainlink
– I might've raped you –
it's akin to being slapped. that word. that god awful word. not just that, either, but that word in keith's voice, so guilty, so distressed, so self-loathing…
expectation changes and the plan is rewritten in an instant. the gentleness is gone from his voice, as well as his face. the steadiness of his patience breaks and then words are spilling out, every syllable firm with unquestionable certainty. ]
You did not rape me.
[ he fails in masking his frustration. it isn't wholly directed at keith. per usual, most of it is reserved for himself. he used to be better at this; at controlling his emotions and ensuring others saw only what he deemed acceptable to show. is it the lingering trace of drugs in his system that makes him sloppy? the anxiety fueled adrenaline of their situation? or is it simply because he lacks the restraint when it comes to keith? keith, who is both his strength and his weakness, the balance between the two so precarious that shiro is often fighting within himself, trying to find his own footing.
he shouldn't be surprised. that's what love does to a person.
clenching his jaw tight in the aftermath of spitting out that dirty word, shiro gnashes his teeth until they hurt and then, only then, is he able to bring himself back into check for a conscious calming of his voice. ]
I wanted you. [ not the entire truth, he tells himself. ] I want you still.
[ remember his plan to let keith look away and collect himself, as shiro slowly coaxes him into looking at him again? so much for that. shiro grasps keith by the chin and turns his face toward him, because as much as he wants to say it's for keith, the move is mostly for shiro. shiro needs the connection. he needs to erase those ill thoughts from keith's head and replace them with understanding and truth. as shiro should have done from the beginning. fuck, just… has keith been toiling over this idea of raping him for the entire week…?
remorse thickens his voice again, everything heavy and slow like molasses. not due to hesitation this time, but the weight of his own damnation. ]
You were so good to me, baby. So gentle, so caring… don't you dare think any part of it was… [ unwanted. unreciprocated. rape. ] – that. You'd never do something like that to me. [ his hand moves from his chin to his cheek, keeping keith turned toward him with a curl of his fingers and a caress of his thumb. ] Because you're good. So good to me.
[ here's the waver. just a moment of hesitation. even now, it's difficult for him to be wholly honest with himself, as he distances his own desires from that of responsibility. ultimately, it is responsibility that wins… but it's responsibility to keith, not to voltron and not to his own reality. ]
That's why I love you. I love you so much, baby… I meant it then and I mean it now. That hasn't changed.
SCREAMING?!
nothing trips keith over his own thoughts like that one does. for all that he hates the way reparacija operates, where would the best relationship of his life be without it? if they could be free tomorrow, but never see each other again, would he really be able to turn his back on this codemned hell hole? is itbad that doesn't have a fucking answer? and what does it say about him that when shiro forces him to hold eye contact that keith crumbles under the knowledge that he doesn't want shiro to leave him behind?
you were so good to me, so caring.... that's why i love you.
heart squeezing painfully tight, keith looks up at shiro with growing despondence. ]
But... but I'm not. I'm not good to you.
[ gingerly, keith wraps his fingers around shiro's wrist, holding on in silent desperation. ]
If I could, I'd keep you with me. Even if it means being stuck in this horrible place.
[ hell, even if it means falling from a platform to oblivion. ]
shhhh everything is fine. we get to have good food today
i’m not good to you.
– but not when he’s on this side of it. self-deprecation and self-sacrifice are habitual things shiro is, unfortunately, well-versed in. of course he realizes that every time he distances himself from keith for one reason or another, it’s frustrating to keith. painful, too, but he’s always thought it to be a pain born from being denied what he wants in the moment. it hurts for another reason, though, huh? it actually hurts to sit here and listen, watch, feel keith closing in on himself with bitter words.
shiro has many regrets, some too traumatic to even begin to put into words, this here, though? this he can verbalize: he’s the one who is not good to keith. keith deserves better than someone who can’t get his thoughts and emotions in check. someone who can be open and honest from the beginning. someone who isn’t perpetually torn between love and obligation. someone who –
fuck, he’s doing it again.
if i could, i’d keep you with me.
as self-serving as it feels, like he’s the one getting the better end of the bargain, shiro banishes the temptation to talk himself down into a black hole of loathing, instead putting all of his focus back where it belongs: on keith. his smile is bittersweet, his expression never progressing further than what can only be deemed apologetic. his touch continues to be steady and sweet however, thumb scooting across his cheek again. ]
We can’t stay here, sweetheart.
[ punishment looms. they may not be able to escape being discovered for their latest acts, but they can’t keep doing this. they can’t settle for compromised autonomy and a small, secluded world. shiro’s drive to explore and experience the unknown may have darkened somewhat from what it used to be, but keith… fuck, shiro can’t stomach the thought of someone as beautiful and vibrant as this boy being locked up forever. keith is meant to soar, not to have his wings clipped so readily.
taking a breath, shiro forces his voice lighter, hope and encouragement coloring his next words. ]
But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep me.
[ another caress of his thumb and then he bows a little closer, voice softening as though sharing a secret. ]
… You promised, remember? I’m counting on you to help me figure this out… because I need you just as much.
._. !!!!!!!!
but even knowing all that, it's hard not to be selfish in his reflections of the aftermath. separated from his boyfriend by entire realities, forever haunted by the white-haired version of the shiro in his reality of all the things they could have been but never were.
shiro's hand is a warm constant on his face, and keith blinks slow through the rest of his words. leaving porn prison and keeping shiro has always been at odds with each other, if only because the end goal of escaping here is an inevitable return to their respective realities. or at least, it had always been one and the same because abandoning their realities had been utterly unthinkable.
up until now, that is. shiro comes closer and an impossibly heavy weight comes off keith's soul as the unthinkable is allowed, even briefly, to become thinkable. eyes widening, keith stares up, his grip inadvertently going slack on his boy's wrist. ]
... You really mean that? It's not something messed up in your system again?
ROFL it's so sad... i'm still laughing/crying over the chances of that happening
… supposedly. it’s clear that the drugs are still potent in this boy’s system. is keith even capable of fully comprehending, as well as remembering all of this when he’s no longer compromised?
uncertain, but having no alternative, because he can’t simply stop now, shiro keeps his hand at keith’s face and lifts his other, gently pulling that loosened grip looser. ]
I really mean it.
[ he doesn’t look away from that wide-eyed stare, making sure that the meaning of those words hit their point and sink in. as for keith’s hand, shiro takes those slackened fingers and holds them, resting their combined hands over keith’s sternum. it’s a slight criss crossing of limbs, but shiro likes having all the points of contact, hoping that keith feels as grounded as he does in the moment. ]
I want us to be together.
/kicks the universe another time
but words are easy, actions are not. if shiro truly wants them to be together, then this past week of intangible distance shouldn't have happened. the contradiction picks and picks away at the back of keith's skull until doubt dims the warmth of his adoration. ]
But you were mad at me, right? For what I did to you?
[ rape, that is. the sole reason keith avoids using the ugly word again is down to the intensity of shiro's reaction the first time. ]
I... I don't know how to make things right, Shiro.
IT'S OKAY THO. in a few days...
they’ll talk about this again, he knows. once keith is clear-headed. once neither of them are stripped down in a horridly uncertain situation. and once they’re free of the overreaching danger of being discovered and subsequently punished. maybe then it won’t be such a battle for shiro to convince keith that his intentions are genuine. for now, though, he tries his best to settle keith just enough to put a crack in that doubt.
and the quickest way to do that? he leans down and takes a kiss from his mouth, resting solid and resting heavy, to make keith really feel the weight of everything shiro is feeling. no open mouth and no tongue, just a firm meeting of their lips as shiro holds and holds, breaking away after a few, long beats. ]
I’m not mad. [ wait. that’s not entirely true. ] Not at you.
[ better. he sighs again, still keeping all points of contact between them. ]
I’m mad that I’m an idiot when it comes to you.
[ he used to be so much better at this. oddly enough, he was better at managing their relationship when they hardly had one; back in the garrison days, when he was diligently working at gaining this disgruntled kid’s trust. now… sometimes shiro truly believes that everything that’s happened to him has damaged him beyond repair.
or maybe that’s a scapegoat. afterall, his track record for love isn’t stellar. can he honestly say that he was open and honest with adam in all aspects of their relationship, too? that he was always understanding and patient? for how readily available he makes himself to building people up when they need it, does he truly know how to love unconditionally? maybe not, he thinks… but he’s learning. he’s trying. he already loves this boy, he knows it, he feels it. he just… needs to love him better.
god, even in the privacy of his own head, that sounds stupid enough for him to be embarrassed by it. it’s true, though. keith is it for him and one day, shiro is going to make him believe it. ]
I know I haven’t given you enough reason to believe me, but try to, baby. I love you.
MANN HOW HAS IT BEEN MONTHS...
holy crap, it really has been months LOL
/o\
i'm still gutted over keith's thoughts ._.
shhh, he'll be fine. eventally
it's been three years of hating that word. i continue to hate it.
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i feel like nothing happens in this tag l:
shiro is thinking!!!
and now keith is thinking, but thinking stupidly
..... listen.
stop questioning, daddy, keef
no daddy while the woof is eating :/
kosmo better eat faster then
kosmo will lol wolf down his snack ....
... THAT WAS SUCH A SHIRO JOKE
I KNOW YOU LAUGHED.
YOU CANNOT PROVE!!!!!!!!!!