Sheith week, day 2! The prompt for the day was 'Together/Alone'; and given the rest of the things I've written for this week I decided some good, old fashioned porn was due. With a side of horror/embarrassment. Enjoy!

Warnings for: Explicit sex, shower sex, sex against a wall, light biting, characters being walked in on.

Sometimes he's really, really glad that they haven't kept doing the open-mind exercises since they learned how to form Voltron on command. For one, god knows what kinds of nasty memories are buried somewhere in his skull. Secondly, it might be a little bit hard to explain to the other Paladins the kinds of memories and thoughts he has about Keith, even from when they were in the Garrison together. A short time, what feels like a lifetime ago, and against the Garrison's rules, if not technically illegal by the state laws that they were in.

He's not totally sure about what the others' opinions are about non-traditional relationships; most of Earth has evolved past caring about it, but there are still bigots. None of them strike him as one, but it can be hard to tell just by attitude sometimes. Then there's the question of Coran and Allura. What did Altean culture have to say about same-sex relationships? There's a whole universe out here and he has no idea what any of them think.

Consequently, Keith and him have been quiet and careful about anything they do; luckily most doors lock.

Which is why this is such a terrible — and thrilling — idea.

The water pounds down over his back, hot in contrast to the chill of the metal wall he's got his free hand braced on. Keith is sandwiched between him and the wall, legs spread, one arm curled back to tangle fingers in his hair, and the other pressed against the wall, fingers spread wide over it. His Galra hand is lowered between them, working Keith open as gently and carefully as he can manage with the way his heart is pounding, breath coming ragged and strained against Keith's shoulder.

The Castle's showers are public, which is a sharp reminder that this is, in the end, a military ship built to house the Lions of Voltron. A lot of the rooms are clearly very militaristic in purpose, and that includes the partially-public showers. There are curtains that draw around 'stalls' and lock magnetically into place, but there's still a slight gap at the bottom that's enough to see feet, and generally identify who else is there. If someone comes in…

"Not going to break," Keith says, in a soft moan that still bounces off the walls more than he'd like. "Don't have to be so careful, Shiro. Come on; I'm ready."

"You sure?" he asks, closing his eyes to focus on the dim sensation from his Galra arm, to try and gauge the level of resistance wrapped around his fingers.

"Yes, I'm sure," Keith almost snarls, and he smiles but — this time — doesn't comment on Keith's regular impatience. Hurrying is probably a good idea.

He presses a kiss to the side of Keith's neck, and slowly lets his fingers slide back out. The sharp inhalation he gets in reaction makes a rush of heat sweep down his spine, almost making the water feel cool for a moment before it passes. He slides his hand down, gripping Keith's thigh and pulling it up until it folds between Keith's stomach and the wall, and he can pin it there with just his weight and reach for the little nondescript bottle on the recessed shelf beneath the panel that controls temperature. Thank god Allura hadn't needed him to really explain why he needed lube, once she understood what he was asking for. Though if anybody knows what they're doing, it's probably Allura.

Keith's back arches, ass pressing back against his hips, and he gasps a little breath and shoves forward before he can control himself. Judging by the half of a grin that he can see from this angle, that was definitely done on purpose, which is not at all surprising. Keith tends to tease even at his softest, and make trouble when he knows he can get away with it. Like now.

He reaches his hand down to spread the lube across himself, shivering a bit at the sensation of his Galra hand. He still has strange moments of disconnect with it, especially when he's using it like this, but it turns out Keith really likes the feeling, so he just pushes through. Most of the time it's fine, and every other time usually he can get through the moment by just not using that arm for a bit. Small sacrifice to make, when Keith makes such great noises when he does use it.

He starts to shift forwards, and Keith suddenly twists, turning around in his arms until his back is flat against the wall, violet eyes nearly swallowed by pupils and staring up at him. He pauses, but takes it in stride when Keith tugs him down into a kiss, teeth grazing at his lips but not actually biting down. No marks where clothes won't cover them. Also, no marks on Keith period; him avoiding being partially naked around people is a little bit more understandable than Keith suddenly avoiding it when he didn't before.

"Lift me," Keith demands, as soon as the kiss ends. "You can do that, right?"

He gasps in a small breath, and then forces himself to nod. "Yeah, I can do that." He shifts downwards, low enough that he can get his hands curled down underneath Keith's thighs and then ask, "Jump?"

Keith's mouth curls in amusement, but there's a flex of muscle, a little hop, and he lifts at the same moment to pull Keith up. Keith's smirk opens up into a gasp, legs wrapping around his waist, hands clenching down on the tops of his shoulders. He steps forward, pressing Keith's back into the wall to make the weight easier on his human arm. He's strong enough, but he also kind of likes having Keith pinned up against the wall, legs clenched tight around his waist and with just a fraction of an angle to correct before he can sink home.

He changes his grip, carefully readjusting so he's gripping Keith's ass to hold him up instead of his thighs. It's just the work of a moment to tilt them so that the angle actually is right and he can lower Keith bit by bit, watching the way he arches and bites into his own lip, until he's fully buried. He takes a moment to breathe, to swallow, as Keith loops an arm over his shoulder and grabs the back of his neck. The expression on Keith's face is tight with pleasure, and when he shifts, testing the connection with a small lift and a gentle roll of his hips, Keith moans, way louder than he expects.

"Good?" he asks, making sure.

Keith's legs tighten around his waist as he nods, and then almost-hisses. "Yes, just go."

"Demanding," he teases, but obeys anyway. He shifts his grip and then gives a more purposeful roll of his hips, drawing partially out and then back in, shallow enough that there's no point where it feels like he might fall out.

He presses Keith to the wall, leaning in and catching his mouth in another kiss, stifling the sounds escaping him. When they both need to actually breathe he pulls his head away, tucking it in next to Keith's shoulder and panting against the wet skin there. Keith's hand squeezes the back of his neck, other hand pressing down on his shoulder, steadying himself as the thrusts bounce him slightly, just enough to fall on the next one with a little more force.

"Shiro!" Keith gasps, the hand on his shoulder sliding down to rub against his chest, one thumb catching a nipple and dragging a groan from him and a jerky buck of his hips. The out-of-rhythm movement makes Keith cry out, and then, "Fuck, Shiro!"

"I've got you," he manages to answer, raising his head enough to speak into Keith's ear. "I've got you, babe."

Keith's hand tightens on his neck, nails digging just slightly into his skin as he arches. Their chests press together, Keith's head tilting back, legs almost painfully tight around him as he moves with him. He tries not to grip Keith's ass too tightly, making sure he stays especially careful of his metal hand as he grits his teeth to muffle a dark moan, his human arm starting to ache just a bit at the effort of keeping Keith up. Nothing he can't handle.

Keith makes a high, desperate noise, and gasps, "Takashi!"

His stomach goes tight, heart soaring at hearing his actual name, and he pins Keith a little harder against the wall, rolls his hips a little faster, and—

Beeeeeep!

They both freeze at the unmistakable sound of the door opening, except that Keith is dropping down from a bounce and hits the bottom, and suddenly there are teeth in his shoulder as Keith clutches at him. There's the vibration of some kind of moan, muffled into his shoulder and lost underneath the sound of the water, but he still has to physically bite his tongue not to let loose any sound at the abrupt pain. He shudders, trying not to move at all, listening to confident footsteps and then — oh god — cheerful whistling.

Lance starts up a shower in the next stall over, and he stares at the wall he has Keith pressed to in horror. This. This is why this was a bad idea, no matter how hot, no matter how thrilling...

"Shiro!" Lance calls, cheerful and oblivious. "What's up?"

Keith, his mind responds somewhat hysterically, as it clicks together that he's holding Keith off the ground and that means that his feet are the only ones visible beneath the curtain. If he can somehow just manage to keep Lance from noticing that anything's wrong, maybe they can not get outed over this stupid stunt.

He has to swallow to even try to speak, and his voice still comes out shakier than he'd like, though hopefully not enough for Lance to notice. "Just finished some training. You?"

"Just one long day of nothing," Lance brags. "Had some dee-licious dinner, courtesy of our pal Hunk. Kinda spicy tonight, you know what I'm saying? Little bit of alien herbs, some kinda blue tuber thing. Blue is totally my color, I'm just saying."

"Definitely," he agrees. He shifts, Keith's teeth sink deeper into his shoulder, and he almost swears as Keith tightens around him. It's hard to stay silent, but he swallows all of it back and just does, even as he trembles a bit. "There any left?"

"Totally! He saved a couple bowls for you and Keith, since you two missed the delicious culinary concoctions." His fingers clench down, and Keith hits him hard on the top of the shoulder a fraction of a second later which makes him quickly ease the grip again with a wince. "Hey, have you seen the mullet anywhere?"

He freezes for a second, and he's pretty sure that Keith's teeth break his skin, because there's a sudden sharp sting. "Yeah," he gets out, somehow managing not to grit his teeth. "Yeah, we were sparring. He um… He headed back to his room, I think?" He hisses out a quiet breath, rolling his shoulder to try and get Keith to ease the teeth a little bit. "Might already be eating. You need him?"

"Nah," Lance answers quickly. "Hunk was wondering." There's a pause, and then Lance adds, "You're sounding a bit breathless; you good, buddy?"

"Fine," he says, as he carefully slides his Galra arm further underneath Keith so he can take a bit of the weight off his human one. "Just still cooling down from the spar. Little worked up, you know?" He's a little proud that he manages to get that out pretty steadily, even as Keith's teeth ease out of his shoulder and release a sharp, hot breath across his skin.

"Oh yeah," Lance says, laughing. "He's a bit intense."

He squeezes his eyes shut, and feels Keith snort into his shoulder. "It's not a bad thing," he defends, maybe a little weakly.

Keith's hand scrubs over his shoulder, legs flexing around his waist, and tightening a few other key muscles at the same time. He thunks his head forward into Keith's shoulder, muffling a gasp into his neck as his hips shove upwards, totally out of his control. Keith bites him again in turn, different spot, same kind of pressure. That's just about when he realizes that the low ache of pain actually, somehow, feels really good, and despite Lance being one stall over, despite the horror, he's not getting any softer.

A glance down between them, past the dampness of Keith's collarbone and chest, proves that Keith's definitely not going soft either. Awesome. That's just great.

The water pings against his back, and he swallows, sliding his human hand up Keith's side to slide it around his waist; hold him close. Keith moans into his shoulder, and it's quiet but it still makes him shudder, feeling the vibrations slide down into the muscle of his chest. It's like it's contagious because Keith trembles too, clutching harder at him, fingers digging deeper. He's definitely going to have some bruises.

Lance is singing now — some kind of combination of half-lyrics and humming — and he thunks his head into Keith's shoulder again, gritting his teeth and trying really hard not to make any stupid noises or say anything. Frankly, thank god that Lance apparently hasn't noticed that the water from his shower is hitting the ground totally uninterrupted, which is a dead giveaway that he's not actually underneath it. He could come up with some kind of excuse, probably, if he could make his mind work while Keith is still hot and wet and tight around him.

They both stay as still as possible, minus a few more shudders, as Lance does… whatever the hell Lance does in the shower. It's like angels are singing when the water from the other shower finally shuts off, and Lance — still humming — starts to leave. At least until there's a pause in the footsteps.

"You gonna stay in there forever, Shiro?" Lance calls, friendly and maybe just a tiny bit concerned. "You're gonna get all pruny and wrinkled if you do that, you know!"

His mind spins in a sharp circle, and he seizes onto the first excuse he can find. "It's the arm," he calls back. "There are a couple seams, and dirt gets stuck in them over time so I have to really scrub at it every once in awhile. I'll be out pretty soon."

He holds his breath, stiff and still, until Lance says, "Oh, okay! Good luck!"

The humming fades away, the door opens and closes with another loud beep — only door in the whole castle that does that; must be a privacy thing — and he sags against Keith and releases a heavy breath.

"Oh thank god," Keith hisses against his skin, hands loosening their grips somewhat. "Okay, you were right, let's never do this ever again."

He manages a strained laugh, and a nod that Keith probably can only sort of feel, but definitely not see. "Private rooms; locked doors," he agrees. "This is so not worth it."

Keith shifts a little bit, gives a moan that's not muffled into his shoulder, and then says, "You're still hard though."

"So are you."

Keith shudders, back arching a touch underneath the arm he's got wrapped around his waist. "For the love of god, fuck me, Shiro. Before someone else comes in here."

He doesn't hesitate. He presses Keith hard against the wall again, getting a good grip on his upper thighs, and moves. Keith drags his head up and pulls him into a kiss that's wet, sloppy, with moans shared between them along with panted air. He never really came down all that far from the high he was at before the interruption, and by the way Keith lets go of his shoulder and reaches between them, hand circling himself and tugging in rapid, almost-matching strokes, Keith definitely never did either.

"Come on, babe," he breathes, keeping his eyes open to watch Keith's expression, trading breaths more than kisses now. "Come for me, Keith. Let it come."

Keith groans, teeth clenching, fingers tugging at his hair hard enough to hurt a little bit. "Yes," Keith gasps. "Yes. Takashi, fuck!"

His stomach goes tight at the way that Keith's face twists into a strained kind of pleasure, muscle tightening up, and then eases. Keith moans, long and low, coming up between them as he watches. Muscle flexes and releases around him, and he only lasts through a few more hard thrusts before he kisses Keith to muffle his cry, hips stuttering up as he comes, and comes. Keith shudders, clenching down around him and drawing a startled gasp. He doesn't have much choice but to push Keith into the wall with his weight, breathing hard as he slowly starts to fall down from the high of release.

After maybe a minute or so, he carefully shifts back and murmurs, "I'm going to put you down." Keith gives a tired-sounding noise that he's pretty sure is agreement.

The legs around his waist loosen, and he lifts Keith just far enough that he slips out — he twitches, Keith shivers — and then can lower him. He seems to find his footing pretty well, and he slides his hands up from Keith's thighs to his waist, carefully cradling either side of it as he holds him close. Until there's a gentle push at his chest, and he follows the prompt and lets Keith walk him a couple steps backwards so the spray of the shower is actually on them. Keith groans, sighs, and folds in on his chest. He smiles, wrapping his arms around Keith's back and lowering his head to rest it on top of Keith's, feeling both his thighs and human arm twinge in strain, but ignoring them.

That part is definitely worth it.

"We should clean up and get out of here," he reminds Keith, gently. Loath as he is to disturb him.

Keith nods, but doesn't actually pull away. "We should murder Lance too," comes the quiet declaration.

He rolls his eyes and snorts. "For our terrible choice? We should just not do this again; fix the problem just like that. Come on, we've got… blue tubers to eat. Or something."

"Yes," Keith agrees, and pulls back half a step. "And then, you know…" One hand reaches out, poking at his shoulder and he winces and gives a little gasp at the pressure on the new bites. "I probably owe you for those."

"It wasn't that bad," he offers, thinking about that low ache of pleasure-pain. "I think I'm good."

Keith raises an eyebrow, arms crossing. "You're going to turn down more, actually private, actually vocal sex?"

His mouth opens, and then he pauses, thinks about that, and finally says, "No. Definitely not."

"Good."