spaceforged | IC Contact (Mask or Menace)

[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?

[Keith can't help laughing too. He hadn't expected Shiro to tip over. Okay, so yeah, they're both a little gone right now. But that's fine. For once in their life, it's fine to relax and act their ages, for a bit. So Keith scoots enough to make room for Shiro to settle himself comfortably.]

Stay.

[He agrees without hesitation. And since Shiro gave him so much crap for it already, the other man has no basis to be surprised that given their new location that Keith makes the most of it and cuddles right up to him. Still warm. Still solid. And god he still smells good. This is nicer than it has any right to be.]

[Keith's laughter sets him off again. He chuckles as he lifts an arm to let Keith snuggle in close. He wraps his arm around him and rests the side of his face against his. It's better than it has any right to be. Keith fits up against him as if they were born to be united.

Keith's warm and his grip is strong. He breathes in and smiles against Keith's skin.] You smell good too.

[He says in a hushed tone as if he had to lower his voice now they're prone together.] It's nice.

[Keith isn't sure he can remember the last time he was this happy, this content. But hearing Shiro laughing, being this close, knowing that for this moment at least they're safe and together and warm.

The way Shiro's voice sounds, so close and so low and soft, it's enough to send a shiver racing through him. Okay. Breathing again.]

Yeah. It is. Really nice.

[Shiro smiles again and closes his eyes. He is too drunk and too tired to do more than reach down. He snags the covers with his metal fingers and pulls them up and over. With his task accomplished he returns his arm to securing Keith against him.

He presses his face against Keith’s neck for a moment.] Let’s sleep. You’re warm.

[Then he settles with a soft content sigh.]

[Shiro is warm. The blanket is warm. The liquor still racing around with the blood in his veins is warm. Keith is probably too comfortable, really, but he's not questioning it.

Instead he hums softly in agreement.]

Let's sleep...

[He agrees, not resisting the pull of sleep.]

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