[fic] VLD - Everyone Says

[lysapadin]

Title: Everyone Says

Characters/Pairings: Keith/Shiro

Summary: It's their day off and Keith is determined to get Shiro to relax, even if that means tying him down and riding him like a pony.

Notes: 2877 words, smut, canon compliant, more or less, through season 7. Titled with halfhearted apologies to Big & Rich.
~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone Says

They're busy these days-okay, they've been busy since finding Blue and landing in the middle of an intergalactic war, but they've been especially busy since losing the Castle of Lions and mostly-inadvertently leaving the new emperor of the Galra empire trapped in a rift between universes. The empire itself is in turmoil and the Coalition isn't doing much better—turns out that throwing Voltron's support behind Lotor was a controversial move, who would have thought?—and no one knows what Haggar or Honerva or whatever she's calling herself at the moment is doing, but every time she puts in an appearance it results in a new flavor of chaos.

So yeah. They're busy these days, with a thousand and one things that need to be taken care of and very few people and resources to take care of those things. Makes it difficult to catch a breath or get a full night's sleep, which shows in short tempers and snapped interactions, at least until Krolia puts her foot down and institutes rolling rest days. They can't afford for everyone to take the day off at the same time, but they can take turns taking the day off. It's not a perfect solution but it helps.

Or would help, if certain people would actually take the damn day off when it's their turn. And by certain people Keith means Shiro, of course, who seems to be determined to work himself into a breakdown trying to make up for the mistakes his other self made under Haggar-Honerva's influence. Or is still enjoying being embodied again, this time without the threat of chronic illness hanging over him. Whatever it is, the man doesn't know how to slow down.

Keith figures that that means it's on him to make sure Shiro takes a goddamn break when it's his turn.

He lays his plans and waits for his and Shiro's days off to sync up, and the evening plays out easily and normally enough: they hand off the Black and Red bayards to Allura and Lance, get something to eat, and call it a night. Everything is still too new, too recent, for even Lance to do more than waggle his eyebrows at them. Keith is not looking forward to the day that the new normal becomes the normal and Lance decides that it's okay to tease them, because he just knows Lance is stocking up jokes against that day.

Getting Shiro to go to bed with him isn't the difficult part, either. Shiro is just as hungry for Keith as Keith is for him and they're barely inside the door to their quarters before they're all over each other, peeling the paladin armor off each other and tumbling into their bed, urgent for each other's hands and mouths and skin. Keith comes with Shiro rutting against him and Shiro comes on Keith's tongue and it's the best way to end the day that Keith could ask for. Shiro falls asleep against his shoulder and Keith very firmly tells himself that he will wake up the instant Shiro does before allowing sleep to claim him as well.

It's honestly too damn early for waking up on a day off when Shiro stirs and Keith snaps awake. Keith regrets that, but if he plays his cards right, there might be napping later on.

He's already curled against Shiro's side; it's easy to shift and drape himself over Shiro instead, lounging against his chest and watching him wake up, the flutter of pale lashes against his cheeks and the way he smacks his lips just before he opens his eyes. He blinks sleepily when he realizes Keith is already awake and watching him. "Morning, babe. Did I oversleep?"

Should he point out that it's not possible to oversleep on a day off unless there's something planned? Nah, it wouldn't do much good. "It's still early." There's no getting around morning breath, but it can't ruin kissing Shiro. Nothing could ruin that.

Shiro hums against his mouth, returning the kiss with lazy interest, sucking on Keith's tongue and running his fingers through Keith's hair. "Good morning to you, too," he says when Keith breaks the kiss. He takes a quick breath when Keith goes after the line of his jaw and then the lobe of his ear, catching it between his teeth and tugging. "Ah—Keith—"

Keith closes his lips around Shiro's earlobe and sucks, drawing a shudder out of Shiro that's accompanied by a low groan and a stir of his cock where it's pressed against Keith's hip. Keith bears down just a bit and earns another groan.

Then Shiro says, "Keith," in the I must be responsible tone that Keith has been hoping they could avoid.

Keith nips his earlobe and raises his head. "Yeah?"

Shiro offers him an apologetic smile. "You know I'm useless after morning sex."

"Yep, I know." Keith slides his hand over Shiro's chest, finding a nipple and rubbing the pad of his thumb over it until it pebbles and Shiro's breath hitches. "What's your point?"

"I don't think this is a good idea." There's just a hint of a rasp to Shiro's voice now.

"Sure it is. It's our day off, isn't it?" Keith pinches Shiro's nipple. "I think I'm going to keep you in bed all day."

Shiro's cock twitches at that, so clearly he likes the idea. Then he frowns, closing his eyes. "That—"

Keith speaks over his objection, whatever it is. "I'm prepared to tie you down if that's what it takes."

Shiro chokes on whatever it was he was trying to say; he goes hard between one breath and the next. "Keith."

Jackpot. Keith grins at him and reaches for the cubby where they keep stuff to produce the restraints he's hidden there. "Am I gonna have to tie you down?"

Shiro passes his tongue over his lips. "There's a lot of work to be done."

It's a damn good thing he knows how to translate that to plain English. "So that's a yes," Keith concludes before snapping one cuff around Shiro's wrist and the other to the headboard. "But I figured I'd have to tie you down and ride you like a pony if I wanted to get laid."

Shiro groans, music to Keith's ears. "Keith…"

Keith puts his hand on Shiro's new prosthetic. "Power down for me, babe."

"Bossy," Shiro breathes, but after a moment his arm turns to dead weight that Keith can lift out of the way and place within easy reach of the bed. Shiro watches him with eyes gone dark, half-veiled by his lashes. "Well?"

Keith bends and kisses him, fitting his mouth to Shiro's and sliding his tongue between Shiro's lips. Shiro groans and closes his eyes, welcoming him in—yeah, all he really needed was the excuse. Keith spreads his fingers against Shiro's skin, warm beneath his fingertips. Shiro's stomach jumps under his palm as he takes a quick breath, but that's nothing to the sound he makes when Keith rolls one of his nipples between his fingers. He jerks under Keith, against the restraint, and groans when Keith's weight on his hips won't let him get anywhere. "Keith—"

Another time, later on, maybe, Keith will have to take the time to explore Shiro's reactions in depth and figure out the best way to drive him all the way out of his head. For now he steals another kiss from Shiro's mouth and settles his weight against Shiro's thighs to pin him to the bed. Pidge would point out that correlation isn't causation, but there's no denying that Shiro's cock twitches as Keith settles into place, or that there's precome beading at the head. Keith looks up the bed to Shiro and catches him looking back, teeth set against the redness of his bottom lip. "Good?"

Shiro tucks his chin down, a tiny nod. "Very."

Tying Shiro down looks like it's going to be a rousing success. "I'll remember that." Keith reaches for the lube and pours a generous amount into his palm. He slants a smile Shiro's way when Shiro takes a deeper breath, eyes avid, and thoroughly enjoys the way Shiro's entire expression goes slack when he wraps his hand around Shiro's cock and pumps it. The groan rumbles out of Shiro from somewhere deep in his chest as Keith fists him, slow and slick, and his hips strain under Keith as he tries to rock up into his hand. He's gorgeous like this, chest moving on the deep breaths he takes, lashes fluttering over his eyes as Keith drags his fingers up his cock and twists his wrist just so. Keith is tempted, so very tempted, to keep going until Shiro comes apart for him, just to savor every moment.

Later, maybe. Right now he's got other plans.

He strokes his hand over Shiro one more time for the pure satisfaction of making Shiro groan his name, then shifts himself forward, humming as he positions himself over Shiro and begins to ease himself down.

Shiro jerks like he's grabbed a live wire, eyes flying open. "Keith—Keith!" The headboard rattles with the shudder that rolls through him as Keith raises himself up and sinks down again, a little harder this time, heat flaring up his spine with the blunt pressure of Shiro's cock pushing against him. "You didn't—"

"Nope," Keith agrees, lifting himself and sinking again—he groans as his body relents, opening up around the head of Shiro's cock. The stretch burns mercilessly, shaking the breath out of his lungs and bringing water to his eyes as sweat breaks out across his skin.

It must be even better for Shiro, who is pulled trembling and taut against the bed. Every muscle in his arm is corded with the grip he has on the pillow; he pants, open-mouthed and harsh, as Keith holds himself poised over him. The look he gives Keith is wild-eyed, maybe conflicted. "You're going to hurt yourself—"

"Nah, I'll be fine." Keith grins at him and moves, rocking up and down again in the smallest of increments, which is still enough to shake him to his core. "I'm with you, right?" Shiro breathes his name, hoarse. Reverent. "Shh, I've got this." He spreads his hands against Shiro's chest for balance and works himself down onto Shiro's cock, works himself open on Shiro's cock, breathing hard against the merciless, relentless thickness of it, muscles aching in the best possible way. Shiro gasps each time Keith rocks down, taking him a little deeper; minute tremors rock him beneath Keith's hands, but he holds himself still, sweat slicking his skin with the effort it takes him.

They groan together when Keith sinks all the way down the first time, Shiro bottomed out inside him, holding him completely open. Keith stays there, feeling the stretch in his thighs from how wide his knees are spread to straddle Shiro, breathless with the solid weight of Shiro's cock inside him and the burning heat of Shiro's eyes on him. "God, Shiro, that's good."

"Yeah," Shiro rasps. "You really are."

That's not what Keith means and he knows that Shiro knows it, but whatever. Keith leans down and presses his lips to Shiro's, groaning with the way Shiro moves inside him. Shiro's lips are dry with how he's been panting for breath, and he moves with Keith, lifting his hips up to drive himself a little deeper. Keith closes his eyes against the ripple of pleasure, breathing deep as Shiro groans, and then nips his lip. "Hey. I said that I've got this."

Whatever reply Shiro might have tried to make gets lost when Keith raises himself up and lets his weight drive him down on Shiro's cock again. Shiro drops his head back against the pillow as he groans, still the most beautiful thing Keith has seen after exploring half the damn universe. Keith grinds himself against Shiro's cock, lets the fullness of it hum through him, twined with the sweetness of having Shiro here, his.

Then he raises himself up, groaning at the way it feels to have Shiro's cock sliding out of him, until Shiro is barely holding him open. Shiro breathes his name like a prayer, looking up at him, and barely has time to widen his eyes when Keith grins and slams himself down, hard and fast—God, it's good, absolutely perfect, raw and rough.

Shiro shouts, a wordless shocked cry, as he twists his fingers in the pillow. Keith does it again—lifts himself up and sinks down again, fucking himself on Shiro's cock just the way he wants it, fast and hard, angling his hips so that he nails his own prostate each time he rolls his hips down. Heat sings through his veins, brilliant and sharp, building with every movement of his hips, and Shiro—

Shiro writhes under him, gasping out tiny, hurt sounds every time Keith fucks himself down; he gazes up at Keith, shocked pleasure written across his face like a banner, like he thinks Keith is something wonderful, something he never expected. Which Keith suspects is pretty much the truth of how Shiro sees him, though it's not something he's had a chance to explore, what with one thing and another. Saving the universe is a time-consuming business, but this thing with Shiro—he's going to get to the bottom of it, even if he has to claw the time to do it out of the universe with his fingernails.

He could ride Shiro like this forever, could take Shiro sliding in and out of him for hours if their endurance would let them, but this time it goes fast—too fast, but Keith has only himself and the pace he set himself to thank for that. Shiro gasps something like his name, his voice strained, warning—Keith drags himself up, slow, groaning with the languorous slide, and drops himself down hard.

Shiro loses it, bucking under him as he shouts, cock pulsing inside Keith as Keith grinds against him, drinking in the way Shiro clenches his jaw and strains against him, against the restraints on his wrist, for long seconds. Then he releases all at once, going slack under Keith and raising stunned eyes to his.

Keith could almost purr for how open and undone Shiro is after he comes. It's one of his favorite Shiro expressions. He grins at Shiro and fists himself while Shiro watches. All it takes is a bare handful of strokes to push himself over the edge after Shiro—pleasure rushes through him like a tidal wave, tumbling him down before the wild sweet force of it, and leaves him breathless in its wake.

Keith slumps forward, draping himself against Shiro's chest, heedless of the mess, and presses a kiss to the side of Shiro's throat. "God, that was good."

"Uh-huh," Shiro agrees, which is flattering until he adds, "You lunatic."

Keith objects to the label. "Who are you calling a lunatic?" he asks over the faint hum of Shiro reactivating his arm and stretching it over them.

"You, of course." Shiro fumbles with the restraints, seeking the release catch fruitlessly. He grunts when Keith reaches up and undoes the cuff on his wrist. "Thanks."

"Welcome." Keith wriggles against him, folding his arms under his chin and pinning a look on Shiro. "Why am I a lunatic?"

"You do know you're not going to sit comfortably for the next few days, right?"

"Yeah, that was kind of the point." And it's absolutely worth it, as far as Keith is concerned, because the ache in his thighs and his ass is a good, well-used kind of ache.

Shiro lifts his eyebrows. "You don't think you'll regret it later?"

Keith snorts, though he knows Shiro is in earnest. "Yeah, no. Only thing I ever regret with you is not taking every chance I can get."

Shiro's expression softens on his understanding. "Ah. Well. There is that." He curls his arm around Keith and pulls him that much closer, but when Keith leans in for a kiss, Shiro interrupts him by yawning.

Keith snickers at his obvious chagrin. "Worn out already?"

"Shut up. I told you I'm worthless after morning sex," Shiro mutters, pink tinging his cheeks delicately.

"It's a good thing this is our day off then, isn't it?" Keith steals a kiss from him, quick and sweet. "And that I meant it when I said I was going to keep you in bed all day."

"Punk," Shiro says, though it sounds like an endearment coming from him.

Keith just grins at him and settles closer. "Go back to sleep, old man. Rest up for the next round."

"I'll show you old man," Shiro says, catching Keith right where his ribs are most ticklish and making him yelp and flail, trying to get away and retaliate all at the same time.

Napping gets postponed in favor of the ensuing wrestling match, which eventually devolves into grinding against each other and groaning into each other's mouths as they come apart again, but to Keith's way of thinking, this is a feature and not a bug.

Besides. There's still a whole day off stretching out ahead of them.

end

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