acatalepsy_logs | And I just need a minute [Closed]

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And I just need a minute [Closed]

Who: Takashi Shirogane and Keith
Where: Their room in the temple
When: the 23rd, morning
Rating Pg-13 due to where this is going.
What: Shiro and Keith need to rearrange their room space and have a rather important talk about Season 6 related business and other things of a personal nature.

The wooden feet of the footboard he's hauling over his metal shoulder scrapes against the side of the door frame. He pauses and steps more to the left. The footboard is plain without any carvings or fancy adornment. Neither he or Keith care about making their shared room anything more than suitable for their needs.

He steps away from the open doorway and slowly lowers his burden down, propping it up against the stonewall. The hall is quiet with barely any foot traffic. Perfect time to exchange their beds for one singular bed.

He eyes the other pieces of his bed and runs his hand over the dark wood. He's stalling and he knows it. He forces himself to drop his hand and walks back into the room. This wrestling with himself has gone on long enough. If he keeps it up he'll go crazy. He retrieves a long plank from the side of the bed and clears his throat. "Keith," A minute passes and he bashfully ducks his head, the plank under one arm. "..." No words come out. It should be easy. The urge to reach out and tuck a lock of dark hair behind Keith's ear is hard to ignore.

so, why are the words so hard? He sighs and tries again. "Keith...we've got time. We should...talk about," He sweeps his hand back and forth about the room. "Us." It's not his best start. His heart is clenching in his chest and he is attempting and failing to hide how nervous he feels to even bring it up.

But it seems like no better time. They're already rearranging their space. It probably should have been brought up sooner. Yet... It's out there. That's what counts, isn't it?

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For a moment he doesn't know what to say. His heart thuds hard in his chest and he reminds him all over again of how Keith has treated him from day one. He never sought to protect him unless he absolutely needed it. They'd been walking side by side for a long time.

He sets the mattress against the stone wall as the spirits whisk it away with the rest. He takes that moment to look Keith in the eyes. It hits him again that Keith is his. He has been for a while but neither saw it. They'd passed the tests, and Keith hadn't abandoned him. Even when it would have meant his end. That bothers him a little. "We are. I'm not used to sharing everything, but I'll try my best. So long as you do the same. You're everything to me too, Keith."

But he knows he'd do the same thing in his place. He walks past him back into the room. "You lead us out the door this time." He grabs the back end of the other mattress and lifts when Keith is ready. "You don't have to be good at talking about certain things. Sometimes all I need is someone to listen to me."

Keith hefts the next mattress and tries not to glower at the space it puts in between them. It's not the mattress' fault. It's not anyone's fault; the timing of this became what it had to be. And if the end result is that he can be with Shiro, that he can call the other man his, can stay by his side going forward, then Keith can't complain at all.

Not that he would.

He is, however, running to the end of his patience; his well is running dry. It's bound to happen eventually. "Listening I can do," Keith nods, leading out into the hallway, peering at Shiro down the length of the mattress. In fact it's hard to tear his gaze away from Shiro right now -- it's been harder and harder, and now he has no reason to try to hide it. Shiro is his, and Keith won't give him up now that he knows he can have him.

Keith is watching him like a predator sighting prey. He can imagine how hard this is on him. He sets down his part of the mattress and walks to him. He can’t tear his gaze away from him as he reaches his side and slides an arm around his waist to tug him back into their room. They don’t need to move anything else into the hallway.

The contact if allowed is so welcome he sighs, utterly content. “It’s just a little longer Keith. We can put our room in order so we don’t have to do it later.” He really wants to just let things go. That’s exactly why he can’t allow it. He shuts the door behind them and slowly releases his best friend turned boyfriend. “Let’s lay out the bedframe. Between us we can get this done in fifteen minutes...don’t rush it. We’ll be sleeping here.” Together. His control slips and he steps in close, his hand tangling in Keith’s dark hair as he leans down to kiss him, finally, again.

This is exactly what they both need as a small break. Their talk hadn’t taken as long as he thought it would. It doesn’t surprise him.

Shiro isn't making it any easier, each new and casual touch -- not unfamiliar, not all that different from what normally passes between the two of them, but somehow charged through with something thoroughly electric, something that has Keith stepping in closer and swallowing back the better part of a growl at fifteen minutes.

Don't rush it.

Keith takes a breath and is preparing himself for a slow silent countdown to try to keep hold of his willpower -- he's gripping to it with the very edges of his fingertips, a millimeter from slipping. "Right. The bedframe."

For a moment, Keith almost thinks he can do it. But then those hands are in his hair and those lips are on his and to hell with everything else. Beds can wait. The world can wait.

Keith surges up against him, kissing back, all eagerness and need. Maybe it's not surprising that he comes at this the way he comes at everything, throwing himself fully into it, the same way he dives into a battle, the same way he launches forward in the cockpit. But this is worlds more important. He's wanted this, wanted Shiro, for longer than he's even been able to put it into words in his own mind. His hands run up Shiro's chest, up until his hands are on either side of Shiro's neck, fingers pressing insistently at the nape of his neck.

The bed has slipped his mind entirely.

Keith is like lightning, surging up from the ground and pressing into him in all the right ways that spark flames where ever they touch. He shivers despite himself at how much passion is directed solely at him. All for him and caused by him. His self-restraint shatters and he hauls him in, wrapping his arm around his waist as the rest of the world drops away.

There's just their hot breaths and the feel of Keith up against him and the soft warmth of his mouth on his. Wanting this and wanting Keith snuck up on him. It had built itself into a storm without his knowledge until the idea of being without it tore something inside him.

He spins them around and pins Keith up against the door, trapping him there with his body as he nips at his bottom lip. He completely forgets about anything else.

Feeling Shiro react -- to him, for him -- is dizzyingly good. It's the sort of thing he might have almost let himself imagine, almost but not quite brave enough to play it out in his head. The fact that it's real, that it's happening, that it's really Shiro that he can feel, solid and warm against him, that he can taste on his lips is almost overwhelming.

But Keith is happy to be overwhelmed. He barely realizes they're moving, not until he feels the hard surface of the door at his back, feels Shiro pressed close and realizes that he's trapped, and god he loves it. His toes curl against the floor, and he arches towards Shiro, pressing close, pulling him closer, hands moving greedily down shoulders, arms, gripping.

He loses a low, wordless sound to Shiro's lips before he forces himself to draw back just long enough to take a shaky breath before leaning close again, seeking out his lips once more.

He braces himself against the door as he slips his tongue past Keith's lips and commits to a war he has no desire to lose. It would be fun but he's in it to win and pulls sounds out of Keith that will belong to them alone. The low sound sends heat through him and he forces himself to stay where he is when Keith pulls back.

He waits with his heart pounding in his chest. One breath feels like an eternity. Keith leans in and he meets him halfway in a gentle kiss that's sweet and chaste. They should slow down. He doesn't want things to go too fast. Still, he breaks away from his lips to sweep Keith's dark hair aside. He follows the line of his jaw down the bared neck, scraping his teeth against his skin.

To mark. Or not mark? He decides to do it and sucks on the side of Keith's neck as his hands slide up and down his sides. His. All his.

Edited 2018-09-07 18:38 (UTC)

Shiro will be the death of him. That thought strikes Keith in the few moments his heart forgets how to beat in his chest and instead flutters and throws itself around like it's a frantic bird trying to make its way free. But he can't be blamed for that, can he? Not with the heady combination of the near desperate need and that gentle, soft affection.

His breath catches, held a moment and then exhaled in a sound that shakes more than he means it to. He can feel Shiro's mouth at his neck. Fingers nearly fly up to tangle as best he can into short white hair, gripping, all encouragement. He knows it's leaving a mark, and even the thought of it has a groan trying to break free.

But he fully plans on returning the favor, on leaving some sign on Shiro's skin. Shiro is his, and Keith will fight the entire universe for him if it comes to it.

"Shiro..." Keith breathes his name out like a prayer, the hand not buried in Shiro's hair slipping down, finding the hemline of his t-shirt, fingers sipping beneath it ever so slightly, so only the tips of his fingers touch ever so lightly against the skin at the small of his back. Keith has never been good at slow, never been good at holding back. He's controlled himself this far, this long.

He focuses his attention on carefully sucking on his boyfriend's neck until the faintly metallic taste. He runs his hands up his sides, one slipping beneath the back of his shirt up to the small of his back, mirroring Keith's own hand. He pulls back enough to use his other hand to hold Keith's head in place as he kisses him briefly, opening his mouth with his own before he leans back a bit.

He catches his breath. "Keith..." He's not sure what else to say right now. He brushes Keith's dark hair away from his face and cups his cheek. "Doing okay?"

The kiss is too brief, and Keith is in process of chasing it when Shiro says his name. That brings a smile over his mouth that he can't quite stop. Not that he wants to. This is all surreal in a way, and Keith has to keep reminding himself that it's real, that it's actually happening. Hard to deny it though, with Shiro so close, when he can feel everything like each nerve in his body has been turned on high.

His fingers slide further up Shiro's back, smile only widening at the question. For a moment he allows himself to turn into that hand, eyes shutting before opening and turning back to Shiro. "Okay doesn't even come close," he answers.

And then he's in motion, because Keith isn't the type to leave an attack unanswered. He leans up teeth and lips and tongue making a deliberate trail down that strong jawline, down to his neck. He has a favor to return here. He bites first, sharp, hard, before his lips soothe over the spot, gentle for only a moment before he begins to suck a mark to the surface. Mine.

He barely has time to think about the words and the look on Keith's face before teeth scrape against his jaw. He braces his free hand against the wall and shivers. He feels like he did as far back as his cadet days when kissing someone else was new and he never wanted to stop.

His thoughts shatter and he audibly groans, digging his metal fingers into the door at the hot, sharp sting of pain followed by a gentle soothing. He leans forward pinning Keith to the door. There's no escaping now not that either of them wants that. He slips his hand free of Keith's shirt to tangle his fingers in his hair as he whispers,

"Yours." How did things end up like this? He's not sure. But as he tips his head back, utterly surrendering to Keith...it just feels like the final piece of the puzzle between them slotting into place. "All yours."

Edited 2018-09-11 20:26 (UTC)

Keith hears himself groan, a low and nearly growled sound as he finds himself pinned arms wrapping around Shiro to hold him that close, rising up along his back, shirt hitching up in the process. He leaves a final softer kiss to the mark he's made before leaning up to murmur straight to the other man's ear. "All mine..."

And then quieter, "All yours." It's a promise, and it's the simple truth, even if that truth is a realization that has only now made its way into the light.

Keith's eyes focus for a moment over Shiro's shoulder, and all at once his shoulders shake in a nearly silent laugh. "I guess it would be nice to have a bed right now..." Oops. Oh well. Still no regret. Not even a moment of it, for how this played out.

"It's probably a good idea we don't right now. I think my brakes failed a bit there." His breath comes out in a shaky rush. If there had been a bed behind them he can only imagine how this would have ended up. He leans on one arm and uses his free hand to rub Keith's side, fingers sliding up under his shirt.

"I want us to take our time with this. We just realized we're a we." He laughs to himself as he turns his head just enough to press it against the side of Keith's. "How about we get some breakfast and coffee. That will cool us off a little." A little. He already wants to put his mouth and hands on him again.

He wraps his arms around Keith, chin on his shoulder. "I just want to do right by you, Keith."

Shiro's brakes may have failed, while Keith isn't sure his were ever installed to begin with. Not where Shiro is concerned anyway. But still, With his face still tucked against Shiro's shoulder, he can smell him and that is not helping him get on board this take our time strategy.

He smells so good and feels so warm and so solid. Keith shuts his eyes and tries to get a handle on himself, starts the silent repeated mantra of patience yields focus because maybe that will help. Okay. He can do this.

His arms wind around Shiro in turn. He nods. "Breakfast and coffee sound great." How well it actually cools them off, is another question.

A pause and Keith adds, voice quieter, more serious. "You always have. Ever since we met, you've done right by me." Far more than he ever deserved, and now here they are, and Keith has never in his life felt more like he's found where he belongs. "I want to do right by you too."

"You always have. You let me decide what to do..." It's true. In a world where everyone even the man he loved kept shutting him down and trying to say what he could and couldn't do.... Keith had never pushed. He had gotten a little heated in his arguments but the reason it had been so easy to open up to him...he had never felt pressure to do it.

Shiro presses a kiss to the side of his face and lets go of him just enough to open the door. "So. I can manage eggs and bacon. That good enough?" The idea of being able to do that much is nice. He doesn't see a need to be fancy or surprising. They're pretty practical. He releases him at last and steps out into the hall and turns to face. His eyes are warm and he looks rumpled, messy, but happy.

He makes no move to cover the marks on his neck.

The door clicks open, and for one particularly wild moment, Keith very vividly pictures grabbing Shiro by his shirt, hauling him back into the room, slamming the door shut and kissing him until he forgets everything but Keith's name. It's a very tempting bit of imagination, but he pushes it aside, with a monumental effort and turns to follow Shiro out into the hall.

"Sounds perfect." And it does. Simple and practical works for him. For them. It's nice.

Keith is a mess too, hair in full disarray and likely beyond help, clothes disheveled. He catches sight of one of the marks he left on Shiro's neck and doesn't even bother trying to disguise the grin, terribly pleased with himself for it. Without a word, he starts walking, reaching out to catch Shiro's fingers with his own as he steps parallel with him and continues moving forward. "I'll make the coffee."

"Good. I like your coffee." Keith makes it better than he does. It's really hard to think about making breakfast and coffee when his thoughts stray to the idea of going right back into their room and letting matters take their course. He smoothes out his shirt and fixes his hair a bit instead.

If at all possible, it makes him look messier. He lets it go. Shiro reaches for Keith's reaching hand and settles his hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "We can fix up the bed when we're done."

It is definitely a challenged to stay focused on much of anything right now, when the memory of being pinned to the door, by Shiro's body pressed close and solid and unyielding is still extremely fresh in his mind. But here they are, and Keith is soldiering on.

Watching Shiro try to put himself in order and fail helps. Keith has to look away to hide the grin that wants to rise. He tightens his fingers around Shiro's just briefly, before nodding.

"Right. The bed. Sounds like a plan." So long as they get there without being sidetracked this time. Probably doable. For now though, breakfast.

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And I just need a minute [Closed]

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