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theolddarkmachine · 7 years ago

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cups as red as our hearts

Patience, Shiro thought to himself, cradling his weapon as his eyes narrowed on his target, judging its distance. He could do this. He was a champion after all, and if there was anything he had learned, it was how to win. All he needed, was to focus.

Patience yields focus.

Breathing in, he leveled his hand, preparing to strike a killing blow to his mark.

Said mark, was one of four remaining red solo cups, and said weapon, a ping pong ball.

“You look worried, Shiro,” a single voice cut through the din of his thoughts and the music filling the backyard with the sweet dulcet sounds of Rihanna and Drake. Keith stood as the backdrop to his current attentions, arms crossed over the Garrison Soccer logo that spanned his chest in some sort of screen printed reminder that the toned definition of his forearms was from years of sport, and not because he’d walked straight out of Shiro’s dreams.

Though, he still wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Shiro sent the ball arcing through the air, the soft plap! of it landing in the Natty Light rewarding him for his skill.

A gift for @otayuriistheliteralbest for @sheithlentines ! Shoutout to @nasigorengart for the beta :D

AO3

Rated: T for Teen, there’s some heated making out and implied sexy times.

Hi Anna! I hope you like my humble offering for Sheithlentines! I do love me a college!AU, and while I couldn’t exactly work in fuckboy!Shiro with a heart of gold, I thought turning him into a frat boy would be the next best thing. and soccer captain keith just because i couldnt help myself Anyway, I HOPE YOU ENJOY! HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

*************************************

Patience yields focus.

Breathing in, he leveled his hand, preparing to strike a killing blow to his mark.

Said mark, was one of four remaining red solo cups, and said weapon, a ping pong ball.

Though, he still wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Shiro sent the ball arcing through the air, the soft plap! of it landing in the Natty Light rewarding him for his skill.

“That’s called a bluff, Keith,” he said breezily, grin pulling his lips over his teeth as he dragged his gaze upwards from the cup and along the lines of Keith’s body until they found the mauve of his opponent’s gaze.

Keith had been his best friend since they were children, both having been there for each other since the days of scraped knees and boyish pranks, through the awkward stages of puberty, and through every dumb crush and consequential heartbreak. They’d been inseparable for so long, that when it came time to apply for colleges, no one even bat an eye when they had announced that they were both going for Garrison University.

They were Keith and Shiro, Shiro and Keith, their names only ever separated during fraternity events and soccer games. They knew everything about each other, and at times Shiro wondered if Keith could read his mind.

He knew he couldn’t, though, because if he could he would have discovered his deepest darkest secret long ago.

That secret was the truth behind each and every one of Shiro’s failed romantic ventures. Was the truth behind the late night hangouts. Was the truth nestled deep behind his rib cage, stuttering an erratic rhythm into the bone each time he stood in the stands watching Keith’s games. It was the truth behind the smile that he now wore, specifically crafted for one person, and one person alone.

That secret, was that he’d fallen for Keith.

It was a realization that had hit him hard after one particularly stressful soccer game, stealing his breath and painting every memory of the soccer captain an amorous shade. Shiro himself wasn’t even sure how long he’d been in love with him, unable to pinpoint an exact moment when Keith had become so much more than just his friend. All that he knew was that getting trapped in his orbit had been an inevitability. It was the kind of inevitable that snuck up on you, the obviousness of it not striking until it was already too late.

Falling for Keith had been as certain as the color of the sky, and came with all the ease of breathing.

“Bluff,” Keith scoffed, rolling his his eyes upwards to the heavens as he fished the ball from his cup and threw it into the water cup beside him. Carefully, he brought the white rim up to his lips as he returned his gaze back to Shiro. “I think you just got lucky.”

Shiro traced the long line of Keith’s throat as he tossed back the alcohol, committing the bob of his Adam’s apple to memory as he swallowed.

“It isn’t going to help you win though,” he continued once he surfaced from behind the red plastic, his smile dangerous as it carved an impression of itself into Shiro’s heart. “I’ve come to dethrone you, Champion.”

Keith rolled the nickname off his tongue with all the ease of a familiar jab, covering it in the burs of their banter. If Shiro hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was painted with flirtation.

Except that they were best friends, and he knew better than that.

Shiro acknowledged his feelings, but they were his own to suffer. He would never ruin what they had by forcing Keith to share the weight of his desire. Even if that desire was currently crushing him beneath the entire galaxy trapped in Keith’s stare.

A soft plink! ripped him out of his thoughts as a ball landed in one of his final two cups before him, a small splash of beer turning spots at the hem of his tank top a darker grey.

“Just one more,” Keith teased as he settled both hands on top of the plastic table, leaning onto them just enough for his biceps to strain against the cuffs of his shirt as they supported his weight. “Then I win.”

The liquid was cool against his fingertips as he pulled the ball from the cup, not bothering to dip it into the water as he gulped the beer down. Admittedly, it was not his first choice in alcohol— or his second, or even his third— but it was cheap and they both knew that he kept the good alcohol upstairs in his room.

One of the perks of being the fraternity president meant he got the room with the mini bar.

“And what do you think you win?” Shiro asked, ignoring the bitterness the subpar beer had left lingering on his tongue.

We should play with that bottle of Jack I got you, Keith had said when he’d started to setup the beer pong, eyes bright as he bit into his bottom lip and looked up at Shiro expectantly. At the time, he’d shot the idea down, citing that then they’d have to share.

And I don’t like to share.

But now, with the way his stomach was turning with the sharp tang of the Natty Light and something a bit darker, he wondered if maybe he’d made a mistake.

At least with the whiskey, he’d have an excuse for why he couldn’t stop staring at the bow of Keith’s pinked lips. ‘The alcohol made me do it’ was only acceptable when the alcohol came with a decent ABV percentage.

“Bragging rights,” Keith retorted, his eyebrow arching upwards as he licked over a pointed canine tooth. “Say I finally beat Golden Boy Shiro at something.”

Liquid began to pool in his palm where he held the ball, balancing it as if it was something sacred as he trained his attention on it in a vain attempt at slowing the quickened beat of his pulse. If the music wasn’t so loud, he would think Keith could probably hear the way his heart was hammering in his chest.

Don’t you know? He wanted to say. Don’t you know that you’ve always beat me? That you’ve always been so much better? That you’re everything I could ever want? Don’t you know?

Closing his fingers over the ball, Shiro shrugged off the thoughts and Keith’s banter as he dropped the now empty cup into the stack with its fallen brethren on his corner of the table.

“You underestimate me, Keith,” Shiro prayed he didn’t hear the way his name dripped with his barely concealed want. “You of all people should know I’ve always liked a challenge.”

A small smile twisted the corners of Keith’s mouth as a familiar spark lit his eyes at the words. Holding the amethyst gaze within the silver of his own, Shiro flicked the ball towards the other side of the table without any sort of preamble or setup. Heat lightning was erupting within his chest, running its electric warmth over his skin and through his bones as time stood still with only the plastic ball carving its way through the air.

He barely even heard the small crowd that had begun to surround them, the existence of the other partygoers lost to him as he watched a particular shade of pink dust itself across Keith’s cheeks.

Don’t you know?

Maybe, Keith did.

The cup barely shifted as the ball landed in it with a soundless splash.

***

Shiro won. Because of course he won. He was a man crafted by God himself with the sheer purpose of proving that there really was such thing as perfection.

At least, that was the theory Keith worked with.

Not being very pious, he couldn’t actually say for sure.

He felt the familiar burn of awe and something just a bit brighter as they mingled with the warm heat of the whiskey he swallowed. From where he sat on the couch the fraternity had oh so creatively christened ‘Party Couch,’ he could see the way Shiro was making the rounds, offering all the other frat brothers and their guests that shining smile that turned his insides to ash.

Keith wondered if his best friend knew the effect he had on him and his internal organs.

It often felt like Shiro did, especially when his eyes would flicker towards him and the corners of his lips would turn up just enough to set crinkles in the corners of his eyes, just as they did now.

Of course, if he could, he would probably be able to guess as to why his pulse ratcheted up to triple time anytime he was near.

Once upon a time, Keith had told himself that was just how it was between best friends. He and Shiro had been so close for so long that of course he would be exuberantly happy whenever he was near. Of course, he would feel the muscle trapped in his chest stutter whenever Shiro would easily shift from his steadfast leader persona into something softer that only Keith got to see. It only made sense that his pulse would race anytime he’d seen his lifelong friend in the stands during a game, the constant in his life replacing what family would have been sitting in that same space if he had them.

That was inevitable, right?

Only, the truth of his own feelings had revealed itself to him when he’d realized after one particularly disastrous date, that the reason it would never work, was because the guy wasn’t Shiro.

None of them were, and none of them would ever be.

That realization had come with all the ferocity of a tsunami as it dragged him into the depths of his emotions and attempted to drown him there. While he wasn’t even sure when his feelings had evolved into something so much more, he knew that now it was too late.

Keith had fallen for him. He hadn’t even stood a chance. By the time he’d realized it, he was already too far gone.

Falling for Shiro had been as certain as the color of the sky, and came with all the ease of breathing.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking that hard,” the devil himself spoke, the couch dipping beneath Shiro’s added weight as he sat, throwing an arm over the back of the couch behind him. What he tried to not think too hard about, was how close Shiro had chosen to sit, each movement of his steady breath tickling against his arm with barely there touches of his side against his skin.

“And what makes you think I’m thinking that hard?” His fingers gripped around his red cup in an attempt to do something other than reach out and stroke the soft strands of bangs that had pushed themselves through the hole of the the snapback Shiro was wearing backwards. Leave it to him to make one of the most stereotypical frat boy fashions hot.

Or maybe Keith just thought everything Shiro did was attractive.

In fact, that was most likely the case.

Without warning, a metallic finger jabbed into the space between his eyebrows.

“You get this line,” Shiro chuckled, slightly twisting his fingertip to emphasize his point. “Right here.”

Heat prickled and blossomed from the touch, gathering in his cheeks and working its way down his neck as Keith allowed his eyes to map the expanse of Shiro’s skin, following up the metal surface of his prosthetic to the exposed muscle of his upper arm and up towards his face until he met his gaze. A brightness touched them that set them closer to the realm of polished silver instead of a dull tempest.

Keith’s heart stalled for a moment as he thought he recognized the look, knowing his own eyes were touched with the same light.

Only, that couldn’t possibly be it. They were best friends.

It was most likely the glow of those stupid heart lights that were stretched back and forth across the backyard.

It’s Valentine’s Day, Keith, we had to be festive.

“That could be my normal stare. Resting bitch face, you know,” Keith said, ignoring the breathiness of his own voice as he leant back enough for Shiro’s hand to fall away. The plastic cracked in his grip as his fingers twitched around it again as he swallowed down the acrid taste of disappointment at the loss of contact.

“I think I know what your normal stare looks like, Keith,” Shiro deadpanned, mouth twitching downward as he shifted his weight, his side fully stroking across Keith’s arm. Deep within his chest, he could feel the heat of a newborn star as it expanded against the confines of the muscle and bone. Its flares shot out over his skin, running lines of fire over his veins that gathered at the point where Keith’s arm met Shiro’s side.

The oppressive burn was almost too much as he looked up at his best friend, trying to decipher the look that had twisted his mouth into a scowl while simultaneously trying not to burn alive.

“You going to tell me what you were thinking about?” Shiro’s tone was brusque, as if he was walking through the same flames.

Don’t you know? It took everything in him to not say those three words as his fingers bit into the flimsy cup. You. It’s always you. You’re everything I could ever want. Don’t you know?

“Nothing,” Keith said with a shrug, hiding the lie in the bottom of his cup as he emptied it before he set it on the grass at his foot. Carefully, he let himself settle further into the back of the couch before he dropped his head onto Shiro’s outstretched arm. With his eyes turned upwards towards the sky, he could only see the pale pink and red glow of those stupid heart lights.

“Everything.”

The word escaped him on its own volition, carried so lowly over his lips, he wouldn’t have been shocked if Shiro hadn’t heard him.

But of course, he did.

“That’s a lot to think about.” Shiro’s skin was warm against his hair where his arm pillowed his head.

“Sometimes I think it’s too much to think about,” Keith breathed, the lights blurring in and out of focus with the combined efforts of the alcohol and Shiro’s warmth. Against the dark sky, they now looked like glowing orbs of color. Maybe, if he looked long enough, he could find all the answers he needed within them.

A single moment stretched as he kept his eyes looking upwards, ignoring the way he could feel that silver gaze etching curious lines up and down his flesh. He wanted so desperately to tell Shiro about everything. How he had felt for so long. Why every relationship had failed, how much he meant to him, just how badly he wondered what his skin tasted like. It would be so easy to finally tell him.

To expose his truth.

“How about you don’t think for awhile.” Shiro’s suggestion was a wisp of a thought, nothing but breath with barely there syllables that shattered Keith’s reverie like a fist through glass. Eyes focusing back onto the lights until the dual colored hearts stood against the black sky with perfect clarity, he swallowed his own after it had leapt up into his throat.

Turning his head to face his best friend, his cheek resting against Shiro’s bicep, Keith saw the softened look that he was giving him now. Eyes darkened and lips curling upwards at the corners, he looked like a man something awe inspiring and precious.

He was looking at Keith like he understood the blaze of a new galaxy burning into itself into his body.

Don’t you know?

Maybe, Shiro did.

Dragging his gaze down to the full of his lips, Keith couldn’t help the unsteady breath that parted his own. He was just so close, and so beautiful.

Shiro had the kind of face that the Greeks had written myths about. Kind, and filled with the strength of heroes.

If he didn’t know better, he could chalk up the feeling in his gut as the alcohol catching up to him.

Too bad he did, and he knew the headiness that left him reeling with the slow burning desire working his chest open, was nothing more than fraternity president himself.

“Shiro,” he breathed, gaze still trapped by the sweet curve of his mouth.

God, did he want to kiss him.

Then those very lips he was so enthralled by pressed forward, closing the space between them as Shiro pulled Keith into him, capturing his mouth with a heated kiss that coaxed a gasp from deep within him. In a flurry of heat, he felt Shiro’s hands as they found the back of his hair, his thumbs brushing across the crest of his cheekbones as his fingers dug into his scalp. His own hands found their way to the front of Shiro’s tank top where they twisted into the fabric and anchored him to his chest.

All else fell away as Shiro licked along his bottom lip, looking for permission he was all too ready to give as he opened for him. Pouring all that he was into the pressure of the kiss, he tried to convey those three small words through their language of tongue and teeth.

Don’t you know?

Shiro pulled him closer, as if any amount of space between them was still too much as he returned the same heated intent.

I know.

***

His room was dark as they tripped over each other into the president suite that he called his home, causing Keith to huff a small laugh that he caught on his tongue as Shiro continued to press into the embrace. It felt like he was on fire, Keith’s touch igniting his skin with every caress and drag of his hands as if it was his goal to burn everything that he was to the ground.

It would be a worthy death, a small voice bit out as he kicked at the door behind him until he heard it slam shut.

Nothing else mattered except Keith and here and now and the way he tasted like a mix of whiskey, beer and fire.

When Shiro had made his rounds down at the party, his mind had been racing with the incendiary thoughts that had been plaguing him.

Don’t you know?

The voice had whispered as he’d eyed Keith from across the crowd. The soccer captain had been lounging against the Party Couch with ease as if he wasn’t aware that even from a yard away, he still held all of his attention.

Don’t you know?

It had said when he’d caught his stare, that thought line etching a dip divot in between his eyebrows as he’d looked at Shiro as if he could see straight through him.

Don’t you know?

That stupid voice had screamed when Keith had turned to face him, his head pillowed on his arm and the Valentine’s lights coloring his skin with an ethereal glow.

Somewhere in the galaxies of his eyes, reflected in the stars that shone in their depths, Shiro had recognized the hungry fire that had born them. For just a moment, Shiro saw everything that he felt staring back at him. It had broken whatever cage of self restraint that had confined him, and lost to the intoxication of all that Keith was, Shiro felt felt the strange tang of greed.

And then, he not only need everything, he wanted it.

So he took it.

Dropping himself onto the foot of his bed, his hands wrapped around Keith’s waist as he dragged him down into his lap before he wrapped his arms across his lower back. With a knee on either side of his thighs and a hand on his shoulder, Keith braced himself over him, looking down at Shiro with a look turned impossibly soft with fondness.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed, scared to put too much weight in his voice for fear of shattering the delicate moment that had settled around them. He felt the shudder that the brush of his name ran down Keith’s spine as he shook within the halo of his arms. Fingertips found his cheek as they traced over its arch, pushing back to the seam of his hat.

Turning his head into the touch, Shiro brushed his lips over Keith’s pulse.

“Is this okay?” He asked, the words tickling against Keith’s skin as he flicked his gaze upwards just in time to see the soccer player’s mouth form a moan that hung dangerously between them.

It was a guillotine, waiting with its deathly gleam to drop and cleave their friendship in two.

“I think it’s a little late to ask that,” Keith laughed, sounding almost as breathless as he felt. Where his lips still pressed into his skin, Shiro marveled at the way he felt the pulse there jump and quicken. A gentle press of his palm against his cheek led Shiro’s face to look up towards him.

“I want you, Shiro,” he said lowly as he settled himself lower into his lap, evening their gazes as he brought his other hand up to his face. They were impossibly warm against his cheeks, trapping him so that he could look nowhere else but the wine filled depths of Keith’s eyes.

Their intoxicating power went straight to his head. If Keith hadn’t been holding onto him, he was certain he would float away.

“I have for quite some time. You’re my best friend,” Keith smiled as he leant forward to press his forehead to Shiro’s. “You always will be. I want this.”

The soccer captain teased him with the simple, innocent brush of noses as his lips slightly parted with a breathy sigh that was anything but. It was enough to crack the shell of his chest open, leaving him open and raw as Keith let his eyes dip shut for a moment, as if he was preparing himself. Hanging the moment between them, Keith let Shiro burn for just a few seconds longer before mauve filled his vision.

In one fell swoop of three small words, Keith dropped the guillotine.

“I want you.”

And then he was everywhere. Electric and burning, Keith filled every one of Shiro’s senses as he closed the minute space that had separated them. Tightening his arms around his waist, Shiro let himself drown with the flames as their chests heaved together. Lips pliant beneath his, Shiro chased the breath they shared as he licked into Keith’s mouth, dragging out moans he had only thought he’d ever imagine.

But he was really there, in his arms, pressed against him like all those times he’d dreamed of, unaware it was ever anything he could actually have.

All that time between them swelled with all the ferocity of a southern storm, lightning crashing across their bodies as they rolled against each other. Keith’s fingers quickly discarded his snapback before they found a home nestled in the hair at the back of his scalp. The bite of his nails sent buzzing lines of anticipation and need rolling down his back as he sucked in a breath.

With his arms still wrapped around his waist, Shiro carefully shifted his position, using his strength to press Keith’s back to the mattress, pushing him up further until he was met with the embrace of his pillows.

Pulling away only when his lungs began to protest with an entirely different burn, Shiro allowed himself the opportunity to drink Keith in. Hair splayed across the white of his pillow case like spilt ink, his cheeks were dusted with the same shade of crushed flower petals, and his mouth was kiss bruised and slick. He wasn’t one for art, but in that moment he was certain the picture of Keith looking at him, eyes bright and pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to chase Shiro’s taste, was what artists meant when they spoke of a muse.

He was inspiring, and he was there.

And in right now, he was his.

Dragging his thumb across Keith’s jawline, marveling in the way his touch made his eyes flutter, Shiro let himself just touch. Following the lines of his throat down towards the collar of his shirt, and over the clothed rise of his collarbone, he collected all the different parts of Keith.

The soft hush of his gasps.

The gentle roll of his hips.

The heat of his skin.

“Shiro,” Keith breathed as he dragged his own hands down the sides of his neck and over his chest until his palms came to rest on his pecs, the left held firmly against the strong beat of his heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked again, fingers brushing up across his shoulder and down over the cuff of his shirt until he found bare skin again. Goosebumps dotted Keith’s arm where he dragged the pads of his fingers, causing another shiver to run through him as his eyelids fluttered.

Heat was pooling in Shiro’s gut as he felt himself straining against his jeans, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop his careful exploration.

All he wanted was to continue to explore the way Keith’s moans could fill his room.

“Shiro,” he groaned again, hips twitching upward as he fisted his hands in the fabric of Shiro’s top, nails scratching dully through the cloth against his chest. “I want you, now.”

Emphasizing the last word, Keith pulled him forward by his shirt until he nearly landed face first against him. His breath danced over his lips as Keith looked at him, eyes burning with determination and unadulterated want.

“Anything else, we can figure out in the morning.”

Artlessly rolling his hips upwards against him, Keith kissed him again, swallowing the groan he earned as he began to take him apart.

“Okay,” Shiro breathed as his hands found the hem of Keith’s shirt, pushing under it to feel the sport hardened muscle of his stomach. “Okay.”

Keith was his best friend, and he was so much more. Anything else, they could figure out in the morning. Until then, they were here and now, with Keith underneath him with all the promise of everything he had ever wanted.

Shiro pushed forward once more to chase that promise.

Anything else, we can figure out in the morning.

***

The sun cut through the darkness of Keith’s dream, coloring it the same red of the backs of his eyelids as he turned his face into the the warmth next to him in an attempt at just a bit more sleep. It might have worked if that warmth didn’t shake with silent laughter, its fingers finding the hair at his temple and tenderly pushing it behind his ear.

“You need better blinds,” he muttered into Shiro’s chest before placing a chaste kiss to the skin warmed by his breath.

“You never were a morning person,” Shiro’s voice rumbled through his chest as he let his fingers trail through his hair. Humming at the touch, he pulled his head back to look up at Shiro. His eyes were bright as if he’d been awake for quite some time now. The soft brush of happiness turned Keith’s features soft as he smiled.

Shiro’s mouth was still kiss bruised, and his cheeks still flushed as he mirrored the expression.

If he allowed his gaze to wander, he knew he would see the evidence of himself written across Shiro’s skin in the form of inky bruises and red raised lines. He relished in the idea of them. With each bruise and scratch, Keith finally marked Shiro as his.

But now, he found himself helplessly enraptured with the tender look of Shiro’s tempered steel eyes as he looked at him with open wonder.

“No,” he replied carefully, not wanting to break the warmth that was growing between them. “But I think I could be if this is what I have to look forward to.”

Keith felt the brush of Shiro’s chuckle as it stirred his hair, lips ghosting across his forehead in a quick kiss.

“If I knew that was all it took, I would have done this a long time ago,” Shiro said, tone bright with teasing as he lingered, pressing his face to his crown. A quiet settled over them both as they just basked in the feel of their skin against each others and the heat of the sun as it blanketed them with its bright glow.

It felt right, and for just a moment, Keith felt the soft sting of regret for having waited so long. Shiro was his best friend, and he always would be.

Anything else, we can figure out in the morning.

Only, there was nothing to figure out. At least, not for him. He was wholly, and completely, Shiro’s. He had been for quite some time, and even if Shiro didn’t want to pursue anything, he would carry that burden on his own.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Shiro tightened his hold on him, pulling Keith closer for a quick, crushing hug to his chest.

“Keith?” His name was soft as it blew across his hair.

“Yeah?” He asked, ignoring the way his voice faltered over the reply.

“Do you want to go get breakfast?” The question was shy, tiptoeing towards nervous. Nestled in the spaces of each word, Keith heard the underlying intent. Shiro was offering him the opportunity to go back. To undo the last night for favor of the friendship they’d cultivated. Nuzzling his face into the crook of Shiro’s throat, he ran his lips across his skin in a soft, barely there kiss.

Yes, Keith would carry the burden if he needed to. But something told him he wouldn’t have to.

Pulling back from Shiro’s embrace so that he could look up at him, Keith smiled.

“Yeah. I would love to.”

**************************

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #sheithlentines2018 #voltron #MUTUAL PINING FTW #look at these two idiots #being in love and pining from afar #instead of kissing the crap out of each other #ANYWAY THIS WAS A NICE TIME #AND I REALLY LOVED WRITING IT SO I HOPE YOU LOVED READING IT #and yes i did try to make red solo cups sound poetic for the title #so sue me

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