spaceforged | IC Contact (Mask or Menace)

[He chokes on his drink and sets it down quickly. He forces himself to swallow. One breath in. One out. He gives Keith slightly exasperated look.]

That’s stripping for show. While I know how to do that, that’s not going to help here.

[He takes a long swig of his drink that isn’t his brightest idea but the burn distracts him from idle thoughts. Like Keith stripping. He knows how he would approach it.

And he shouldn’t think that way.] Anyway, we have a plan. Save up, I’ll approach Dick, depending on what he says we can go about getting a place sooner.

It’s something as we plot our way back into the air.

[And now it's Keith turn to nearly kill himself with his drink. He sits up straighter and turns to look at Shiro. What does that mean? What does he mean he knows how to do that? Keith opens his mouth like he's trying desperately to figure out how to put that into a question.

He fails and instead half-stammers,]

Yeah great, talking to Dick. Good idea.

[Just going to down the rest of his drink now and catch their waiter's eye. Yup. Another of these. Thanks.] I really do miss the sky.

[He watches Keith flail with the new knowledge like he was knocked in the head while trying to climb up to safety. He grins at him.

Keith is hard to knock that far off balance unless telling jokes he doesn't get and he's done it several times tonight on mundane matters. It's hard not to get a bit of glee out of it. ]

You'll be back in the air before you know it. [He says and smiles warmly his expression fond.] I'd share my power with you if I could. Flying as a hawk is...really something.

[He sees that smugness, Shiro. He has not missed it. In his defense, how is he supposed to react to news that Garrison Poster Boy, Shiro the Hero, apparently has experience with the non-utilitarian kind of stripping. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

He picks up his new drink, but for now just holds the glass, expression softening.] We both will.

[Back in the sky where they belong, even if Shiro is already there with one of his powers.] I bet it's incredible. Nothing between you and the air.

Yeah, and you feel it on your body. You don’t have read outs. You just don’t need them.

[He smiles again, closing his eyes as the memories bubble up to the surface of his mind. The wind on his feathers. He had breathed in and the air had tasted different. Keith hasn’t been far away and he could almost imagine Keith as a hawk too, letting the wind take them where ever they desired to go.]

I wish I could share how it felt with you. Being a wolf isn’t so bad either. Feels like I could run forever. [He takes a sip of his drink and looks at Keith.] You’ve seen through Black’s eyes, haven’t you? It’s a lot like that.

I wish you could too. It sounds amazing.

[Right now Keith is mostly just smiling at seeing Shiro's smile. It looks like the other man really enjoys it. The shifting, the flying, the running. Keith's glad.

He nods, leaning back in his seat.]

I have yeah. I... I bet it's similar.

[He remembers, all too clearly. Crying out for Shiro in that empty cockpit, trying so hard to reach the others. Remembers Shiro answering him, and everything else falling away as he managed to look through Black's eyes and saw space race by him.]

I knew you would have achieved that. [His smile grows wider. Keith is such a talented and empathetic person when he lets his walls down. Black would have no doubt picked up on that. With the almost three glasses of bourbon in him he says more than he usually would have.]

I didn't just pick you because of Black allowed you to pilot. You care, Keith. You care more than anyone else to the point it almost consumes you. Allura's like that too.

I thought leading would balance you out. By having to look ahead you could find that focus and in turn, be exactly what everyone needs. We all hold each other up and as a second, you weren't getting what you needed. [He gestures with his hand not holding his glass.]

Like this, both of us at the lead. That feels like it really works for you and for me.

[He isn't ready for those words, spoken quite so plainly. And the alcohol thrumming through his own bloodstream, leaving his body feeling pleasantly light, pleasantly warm, is probably not exactly helping.]

Shiro...

[There are so many words on the tip of his tongue, about how badly he'd screwed everything up in those first days, about how he'd nearly lost himself in grief and the team had suffered for it. About how he'd left, and he knew he was running but honestly thought it was the best for everyone, that Voltron was stronger without him. About finding himself and learning that wasn't true and finding his way back. Finding Shiro in the depths of the Black Lion.

But those are the pieces of the time between them he won't share now, not until Shiro is ready for them. So instead he's silent, a mix of emotions at play on his face.]

Yeah. Like this, both of us together, feels right.

[For a moment he catches a glimpse of emotions he doesn't like to see on Keith's face. They're mixed in with others but the fact they're there. He opens his mouth to say something and clicks it shut again.

Whatever happened in the future, he isn't ready for it. Not yet. He reaches out and grips Keith's shoulder giving it a squeeze.] It does. Co-pilots.

And if we want to be poetic, the left and right claws of the Black Lion. I call left. [He holds up his left human hand and wiggles the fingers with a grin on his face.]

Co-pilots.

[Keith agrees, and it has the smile resurfacing on his face. Then Shiro keeps talking and Keith can't help a laugh, shaking his head.]

You really are a nerd sometimes.

[But it's said fondly. This guy. He goes to shove at Shiro's shoulder, misses and with his momentum winds up tipping right into Shiro. ...and actually that's fairly comfortable, so maybe he'll stay.]

[He's still grinning when Keith misses and ends up pressed up against his side. He shifts his hand from his shoulder to curling it around him. It's a comfortable position.]

Doing okay there, Keith?

[His voice is softer than he usually allows but it seems to fit the moment. It's a sure sign he should pay their bill and drag Keith home. Keith looks too attractive disheveled and happy. And he has too much booze in his system if he's thinking along those lines. He uses his other hand to fish his bank card out of his wallet and keys in the right sequence on the kiosk.] I think we're a little drunk, co-nerd.

[Oh hey even nicer. Keith smiles to himself and given that he still has his glass in his other hand, finishes off the last of his drink.

He looks up as Shiro talks, smiling warmly. Shiro has a nice voice. Is that a weird thought to be having? Well, he's having it anyway.]

'm great.

[Keith informs him. And it's very true. But. Shiro probably has a good point. Keith nods, very seriously.]

I think you're right. But only a little. [A little more leaning.] It's warm. [Or Shiro is warm. Either way he likes it.] I like it.

Oh. [His breath comes out in a rush that’s almost a gasp. He wants to hear more of Keith’s voice. He sounds great when he’s relaxed. The usual deep tones taking on a quality that makes it easy to focus on him.] You’re a cuddly drunk. I never would have guessed.

[Keith’s smile should be classified as illegal. He swipes his card when it indicates he should pay and finishes off his own drink. He sets the glass down as Keith leans in. He’s so warm and that smile pulls at him. He clamps down on the urge to do something about that.

Shiro takes a breath and slowly stands up, bracing his free hand on the table to balance himself as he gently draws Keith to his feet.] Come on. Let’s go home and sleep this off. You have to walk. Too drunk to carry you.

[Wow, Shiro. How could you call him out like that?? Keith is blushing and shaking his head,] Who's cuddly? I'm lethal. [He says, even as he absolutely doubles down on the cuddling while he watches Shiro finishes his drink and pays. What? He's a bit starved for physical affection; he's just usually way too walled off and tense to admit it.

Then they're standing, and that's fine too. They probably ought to get back. Keith's thoughts are swimming pleasantly, and he finds his feet.]

Lightweight. [He teasingly informs Shiro at the too drunk to carry you bit, but is quick to smile once more.] I can walk. You good?

[Damn he’s pretty. He shoves that thought down when it wants to go further and guides them step by step towards the door.] Can walk just fine. It’s hard to carry someone who wants to cuddle.

[Or do other things that he is firmly not thinking about right now. That’s a line too far. He guides Keith around a table and gives a tiny wave goodbye to their smiling waiter as they pass him. Don’t mind them just two really drunk best friends going home.]

But you are lethal. I’m calling that smile of yours illegal in all of the USA. Didn’t know you had such a weapon.

[The cool night air brushes against his face as they near the door.] Holdin out on me, pretty boy.

Told you... 'm too lethal to cuddle. [Clearly this is true. He's just lingering close because,] You're warm. And solid. And you smell good. [Oh no wait rein it in that way lies danger and dragons. Keith takes a breath meant to steady himself, and leans into Shiro as they make their way to the door.

But he can feel the heat rising in his face, knows the flush that's taken residence in his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose has to be obvious. His gaze lifts abruptly to Shiro.]

Did you just call me pretty? [And his heart is tripping over itself, some tiny shard of a wild, insane hope that Keith tries to contain. Hope is such a dangerous thing in some instances. Like this one. So he shoves it down and laughs, teasing back instead.] You're one to talk. Actual literal Garrison poster boy model. [And then even if Shiro won't know what it means.] Intergalactic space show sensation Shiro the Hero.

[Sorry, Shiro. Have that piece of your future for free. Keith saw the broadcasts. Keith saved recordings.]

[He huffs and leans a little into Keith as they make it out onto the sidewalk outside. The evening air is a little cooler than he likes but that might be how drunk they are.] I don’t want to know how I became a space show. I just do my job. If people stare, that’s their issue.

[He keeps his arm around Keith and glances down. He really shouldn’t have. Keith’s face is flushed and his eyes are bright. Dangerous. It’s like staring into the night sky and getting lost. He licks his lips subconsciously and looks away.] You just tell me I smell good?

[He feels like prey and that definitely shouldn’t send a spark of anticipation down his spine. Shiro breathes in and pulls them to a stop at a cross walk. He hits the button, keeping his eyes up on the sign to be sure they won’t miss their time to cross. It seems smarter than watching Keith’s face again.] We’re drunk.

People stare. If they have eyes. Sometimes even if they don't. ...alien anatomy is confusing sometimes.

[Keith mutters the last bit like he's considering pouting about it, but he's too content at the moment for sulking. So instead he's looking up to Shiro at that question, watching the other man look away.

Right. Yeah. He'd totally said that.] Uh... maybe.

[In his defense. Shiro does. And while Shiro is staring fixedly at the crossing sign. Keith is gazing up at Shiro like he's found the stars come down to Earth to pass the night. Then he's just laughing.] Yeah. A little.

[This time he shivers a little. This is going places he never expected to go with Keith. He is conscious of every little place they’re touching. He still doesn’t let go of them as the walk sign comes up. He pulls them forward, pressing the side of his face against the top of Keith’s head.] Sounding like a cat there.

[He teases as they make it to the other side and he keeps guiding them home.] And yes people stare, they also stare at you. You look like one of those bad boy top notch pilots.

[Maybe he shouldn’t say it but they called each other pretty and model already.] You have the flying skills and the muscle for it.

[Some shred of Keith's more rational brain is well aware that the smart thing to do here would be to put some distance between them, especially with the way his heart is beating out an impossible cadence in his chest. But he doesn't want to. And there's no way he will when Shiro leans his head against his own.]

Cats have the right idea.

[They do. Keith thinks he'd make an excellent cat.

The fact that Shiro keeps talking is going to be the end of him. He's still warring between a spring of hope he knows will only spell trouble and telling himself that they're both just a drink too many into the night. It's just teasing. Playing. Nothing more substantial. So he tries to smother the longing and instead asks,] So I'm a bad boy now? I can live with that.

[Keith’s heart is beating almost as fast as his own. He shouldn’t keep talking. They’re almost home and it would be wiser to focus on getting them all the way there.] You’re a respectable bad boy.

And you’d make a great cat. [He could see it. He would be a reddish black cat and would only allow human company when he chose it. That makes him realize something in the fluid odd logic of a drunk. Keith is very selective about who he shows affection to and right now he is cuddling up close and smiling brightly.

His brows come down as steers them into their yard.] You being cuddly because it’s me?

I'd make the best cat.

[Keith agrees with the certainty one only finds at the bottom of few drinks. He'd be super good at it.

He'd also be super good at this, he thinks, at actually belonging in the circle of Shiro's arm, tucked close and content for more reason than a little too much bourbon. But those thoughts are ones he knows better than to allow himself to have, so away they go, away into the dark at the back of his mind.

He looks up at Shiro with a startled look on his face at the question. Shit. He's pushed his luck. He knows he shouldn't have pushed his luck. For a minute he considers laughing it off. Or dismissing it and shrugging off the question. For a minute he considers outright lying. But none of that feels right, so instead the surprise on his face softens, not quite into a smile, but close.] Well... yeah. Of course. I... [love] ...trust you, Shiro. I don't trust a lot of people. [Especially not this very personal sort of trust.] I can stop, if you want. The cuddling, I mean. I can't stop trusting you. I'll always trust you.

[He forgets about what he shouldn’t do and stops in the middle of their trek to the front door. He watches those dangerously hard to look away from eyes and says,] Why would I tell you to stop? I trust you too or I wouldn’t have let you so close.

I just wanted to know. [He tucks a lock of dark hair behind Keith’s ear.] You don’t look like the world is on your shoulders. Since you got here there’s something dark in your eyes.

[Shiro looks like he wants to say more and this time he has the sense to clamp it down. He gently tugs on Keith to get him moving again.] Didn’t know how to help. If this helps you as much as it helps me. Good.

[Those words earn a smile. He wants that more than anything else. With everything Shiro has done for him, Keith wants to do the same for the other man, wants Shiro to trust in him that way.

There's a moment where he freezes as Shiro tucks his hair behind his ear that Keith can't quite hold back the sheer wistfulness that rises on his face, teeth biting at his own bottom lip before he can catch himself, ducking his head sheepishly.]

Guess I've had a lot on my mind. But... this helps. [A lot. More than it should And Keith falls into step beside Shiro once more.]

[There is something here. He isn’t a fool and even drunk he can see it. He doesn’t know what it is but it is better not to chase it right now. If he’s honest with himself he’s afraid of what he’ll find. It has been a while since he let himself be as vulnerable as he is with Keith. As they are right now.] I trust you.

[He repeats. To make sure Keith heard him clearly as they walk towards the door. He produces the keys and unlocks the door with very careful series of motions. The door is open and he gets them through it. He shuts it and locks it without thinking past the few words they had just exchanged.

And the look on Keith’s face and what he wanted to do about it. Drunk, he decides. Very drunk. The house is dark and he moves down the hall to the bedrooms with ease of practice. He takes the first door he knows is one of theirs and shuts it. He probably shouldn’t have. As he tries to lower Keith onto his bed he loses his balance and falls with him. He lets out a laugh and the world spins.]

N’t think I’m getting up. Mind if I stay?

IC Contact (Mask or Menace)

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