Chapter Text
Just perfect. It was one of those days Keith was struggling not to believe this had been a mistake. Taking a promotion with the arts and humanities organization he'd worked for since high school had seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime at first- amazing pay for it being a nonprofit, first off. He got to continue doing what he loved, second. Or so he'd thought. If he had thought beyond that, he would have seen the reasons ended there, as his shiny new title of Junior Arts Director had a lot more to do with the directing than the art, and while he'd stood in front of numerous crowds and given presentation after presentation with the organization over the years, it had hardly turned him into a people person.
He'd gone from his hard physical and creative work on city projects- murals, dance programs, parade floats, just about everything you could visualize and then some- to the much more mentally daunting, emotionally draining task of managing every project going on in the city that year. It was only the first week of summer, and Keith was burnt out.
Keith slumped into the passenger's seat of the company-supplied vehicle, a minivan painted over with bright, gaudy pop art that displayed the proud brand ARTFUNKS across the side in neon bubble letters. He heaved a sigh that betrayed all the suffering of his heart and soul.
“What was it this time?” A bright voice asked from beside him. He supposed the job wasn't all bad.
Lance McClain, senior arts director, had one year of experience on him, but apparently that one year made a lot of difference. Lance wasn't the one currently attempting to crush his own skull against the dashboard. The guy was odd, if you asked Keith- way too bright and bubbly, too damn flirty, and despite his typically nice attire, always had a chain around his neck- not even a necklace. An actual chain. Keith had learned not to question things around there, and Lance's heart was in the right place.
“Inappropriate use of slurs, and or insults.” Keith answered as if reading straight from the rulebook. He dragged himself up to a sitting position. “If you ask me, every use of a slur or insult is inappropriate. It was pretty clear my message of acceptance and unity was not heard.” He raised his eyebrows as Lance leaned in, reaching out, and before Keith could dart away from the hand descending on him, Lance had harmlessly plucked a post it note Keith hadn't noticed on the back of his shirt. “Kick me,” he read off, expressionless. “You'd think a bunch of kid artists would be a little more original than that.”
“Hey. You'll get there.” Lance flicked the post it note into the back, where it stuck and hung lifelessly off one of the seats. “You're just a new face. They'll settle down. Or the impressive workload under the heat of the day will beat them down.” Lance shrugged. “Either or.”
“I remember those days.” Keith said flatly, buckling up as Lance pulled out onto the city streets. “I prefer them.” At least, said the little voice in his head, you're physically unable to drive through all this. Keith watched as several cars in front of them immediately got into a very vocal altercation, blaring their horns at each other. He wasn't surprised when Lance joined in.
“Come on, it says right there that's a one-way street, you morons!” He raised a hand above his head, before shaking it and directing his attention back to Keith, probably noticing how shaken he already was. “Look, you just need to find some way to destress and relax when you're not at work.”
Keith turned his eyes on Lance, and had to give the man credit. He was used to others shrinking from his gaze when he felt this way, so when Lance only grinned ever wider, Keith gave up and settled with a deadpan look. “And I guess you have an idea of how I should do that, huh? Keep your eyes on the road.”
Lance obeyed, but he wasn't deterred.
“Do you have sex?”
“Uhhhh…” Keith immediately let drop from his lips, feeling sure now that this may just couldn't get any better. “I know we've grown very close very quickly and all…”
“Not with me,” Lance snorted, but it was good natured, meant to put Keith at ease. He hated that it worked. “But you know, there are services and all. Professionals. I know you're kind of the nervous type, wouldn't expect you to just go out and look for a one night stand-”
“Absolutely not.” Keith interrupted, his face aflame. Lance was lucky he somehow swindled everyone into enjoying his company.
“So get with someone who has something to lose if they don't stay professional. They can help you let go. Here,” Lance's hand slipped into his own shirt then, it was almost as alarming as when he'd plucked the note off Keith when he whipped a business card out and held it out to Keith. “This guy is great. More than great, he's amazing. Makes money off safe and friendly kink lessons.”
Keith stared down at the card, sleek black with only a website printed across it in silvery letters. He looked back up at Lance.
“Forgive me for saying so, but you whipping a mysterious card out of your breast and telling me some amazing guy is going to train me to be fucked doesn't exactly help me relax.” Lance stuffed the card into Keith's shirt pocket as he spoke.
“Well, relax anyway. I've been through one of his programs, and I can tell you he's legit. Plus, if you've been recommended by a previous satisfied customer-” Lance pointed brightly at himself, “He'll give you the first round of lessons free.”
“First round?” Keith repeated dumbly. “Isn't that kind of shady- wait, you?” He blinked. “What about- Allura-?” Lance chuckled.
“She went through it with me. I mean, jeeze, what do you think this is?” He asked, tugging at the chain round his neck. Suddenly, something so innocent yet odd was starting to make sense. Keith slumped back in his seat, taking the card out and staring dumbly at it. “As for the rounds- well, you'll see.” Lance continued, glancing over at Keith. “You don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable. But it wouldn't hurt to check it out. He is very kind, and you really need to relax. In any way.”
Keith didn't bother answering him, just wanting the conversation to end, and as Lance didn't seem intent on pushing him- thankfully- the conversation ended there.
The rest of the drive Keith spent in silence, while Lance droned on about one thing after the other, undeterred even when Keith didn't answer. He guessed Lance was used to him going silent. Probably believed he was thinking about the offer earlier. Keith couldn't let him know he was right- he'd never hear the end of the teasing. And yet.
He hadn't exactly had any fun for nearly a year now, focused more on working his promotion, earning the high pay he got for what was, from the outside, a perfectly reasonable and easy job. Maybe it was time for that to change. Keith's life at home had grown stale and uneventful, consisting of sitting in the dark, answering emails for work, and taking care of Kosmo. He'd been isolating for a while now, hadn't even called his mom more than once a week. It wasn't fair of him. None of what had happened was her fault.
He needed relaxation, at the very least a distraction or a hobby of some sort. Lance's suggestion hadn't been completely ridiculous, he had to admit. At least it was the weekend. Keith thanked Lance as was their routine when the man dropped him off outside the shack with a wink, and Keith was left red-faced and glaring after the gaudy car as it sped joyfully off, incredibly out of place among the red-gold landscape of the desert. The city chugged away in the distance, releasing a cloud of smog into the air, and Keith watched the smoke swirling for a moment before sighing, and turning to trudge inside.
Kosmo greeted him ecstatically, leaping up and whining for attention, and as soon as Keith dropped his bag aside and kicked off his boots, he was on his knees, his arms wrapping strongly around the dog's neck and pulling him in for a rough hug, both of them growling playfully at each other, Kosmo's long tail waving in the air like a flag while Keith's hands ruffled the thick, dark fur all over his body.
“Ooh, Kosmo, sweet Kosmo, I missed you too, buddy-” Keith's baby talk was interrupted with kissy noises, to which Kosmo responded by leaping on him again and covering him in several drooly kisses, until Keith was sputtering and shoving at his head. “Ugh, gross- you big lug, gross, get off me, ewww-” He could at least let go here, knowing his dog wasn't about to judge him for acting so ridiculous. Kosmo leapt away again, and Keith gave another exaggerated, “Yeee-uck,” dashing at his face as his monster of a mutt charged around the shack in light, bouncy strides, his tail wagging and breath huffing excitedly.
“Hey, Kosmo,” Keith called, clicking his tongue, “Come here, c'mere c'mere! You wanna go outside?” That word ignited an even grander reaction, and Keith laughed brightly as he wrestled Kosmo into a standstill, clipping a leash onto his harness. “Come on, buddy, come on!” He said brightly, and the two charged outside for their walk- well, Kosmo charged. Keith tolerated being yanked along.
His dad's place had always been a source of comfort- when the rest of the world had lost patience with Keith's discipline issues, his father had remained patient, open, always knowing how to calm him or cheer him up. He'd always taken care of Keith, and even in death, he'd found a way to continue doing so. Acres of land now belonged to Keith in addition to the little cabin, and it was remote enough that being outside, even this close to the city, meant Keith could walk for miles without seeing another human being. It was bliss, when he could spend time there.
The desert ground, rocky and dry, stretched for leagues out behind the cabin, and it was in this direction Keith headed, Kosmo trailing ahead and zigzagging back and forth on the long lead, sniffing and panting and snorting whenever his nose hit a bit of dried out brush. A sudden tautness on the leash made Keith look up, seeing Kosmo standing stock still with his hackles raised. Heart dropping, Keith followed the dog's line of sight- and then relaxed, when he saw it was only a small group of deer traveling by in the distance. Kosmo whined excitedly, starting to strain against the lead, and Keith quietly ordered him to heel.
Side by side, the two of them crouched, Keith watching reverently, Kosmo nearly vibrating, as a buck and two does stamped by, paying them no mind. Keith watched until they'd disappeared on the horizon, and then turned, clicking his tongue for Kosmo to follow. After a moment's hesitation, Keith raised his voice to a brighter, higher pitch, and Kosmo happily turned to obey.
Once home, it was dinner for the both of them, gourmet wet food for Kosmo and microwave mac for Keith. Kosmo still scarfed his food down in an instant and begged for more, and Keith spent his time playfully shoving the dog off the couch, over and over again, as he ate his food.
Next in the routine came answering emails and writing up reports for work. Today's incident would have to be included, people would have to be debriefed, letters would have to be written up and sent to parents, to the artists, to each and every one of the near thousand workers that made up the organization. What had happened and what had been done to dealt with it would be repeated, over and over, for the next week at the very least. Keith groaned quietly, Kosmo snuggling up to his side and thumping his tail encouragingly, and after giving the dog a scratch behind the ears, Keith got to work.
His next waking moments came late at night. Keith suddenly opened his eyes, visions of a hand descending on him from above causing him to jolt up, his chest tight and his breath coming in quick, panting breaths. His eyes darted around, but the sun had long since gone down and the cabin was pitch black, leaving Keith to panic momentarily as he struggled to remember where he was.
Kosmo's weight and warmth suddenly pressed into his side, and the the sound of his whining and tail thumping pulled Keith out of it. It was just a dream. Just a dream. He was home, safe. He wrapped his arms around Kosmo's neck and pulled him into a hug, waiting for his shaky breathing to calm as the mutt whined and nosed at his ear, licking nervously at his cheek.
“I'm okay, buddy.” Keith whispered, reaching to gently push Kosmo away from the scar on his face. “I'm okay… Come on.” He said, a bit calmer, and stood, trudging into the kitchen with Kosmo on his tail. About a minute and a half later, Keith had a hot mug of tea and had settled back on the couch, Kosmo's weight draped across him and his laptop balanced on his knees. No more emails, he'd worked too long into the night as it was. Instead he scrolled social media mindlessly, not truly seeing what was in front of him, only pulled out of his trancelike state when Kosmo would lick at his hand or paw at his leg.
Keith finally huffed in frustration. He couldn't keep doing this. He could feel his mind pulling him back in every time he let his guard down. He had to ground himself in some other way. Suddenly remembering the conversation with Lance earlier, Keith tugged the business card out of his pocket and stared at it, tilting the little piece of cardstock back and forth to watch what little light there was dance over the letters. He took a deep breath. So, he was doing this.
A gentle nudge and a quiet order sent Kosmo away to his bed in the next room over, and Keith glanced after him, making sure he was staying, before typing in the website name with shaky hands. He'd expected immediate, in your face porn ads, cocks and tits and come everywhere, but what he was greeted with was a much more personal, clean website, with a layout that didn't make him want to walk into the sea and a friendly greeting from the owner of the site, Shiro, explaining the concept and basics of human pup play.
Keith froze. Had he read that right?
His eyes immediately darted around the screen, clicked the drop down menu- he could see now what Lance had meant by rounds. There were dozens of links to click on, some more tame and basic navigation, some labeled intriguing things like Gear and Play. They seemed to be structured in the form of lessons that each built on the last, and Keith's heart pounded in excitement as he hurriedly clicked on the Gear 1 tab. What he saw made his abdomen draw up tightly.
Pictures of men in sleek leather and rubber hoods, on all fours, plugs shaped like tails shoved in their ass, accompanied walls of text, again from this Shiro figure, explaining the gear that a human pup would need to purchase for his sessions, how to use it, how to clean and care for it all- Keith groaned softly, suddenly feeling a little feverish, and tipped his head back. Okay. He could do this. He lifted his head up again, and then came a frenzy of reading, starting with the explanation of the very first lesson- he had been correct in assuming they built on one another- and slowly working his way through every picture, word, and video the site had to offer.
There are plenty of people who are satisfied with simply putting on a mask and pleasing their masters, playing pretend. I work to help those who may want a little more from the experience, wrote Shiro. His tone was light, casual, and friendly throughout, and Keith couldn't help but feel as if he were talking to a friend, even if it was only text on a screen. A video link was next, and Keith clicked, fully unprepared for the sight before him.
“Hello, pups, I am Takashi Shirogane-” Keith paused the video, again letting his head fall back against the couch cushions, flushed and tingling all over. The man was attractive, and not just due to his rippling muscles or the kind look in those gray eyes. Everything about him, from the soft soothing way he spoke to the camera, to the way his hands moved in smooth, calming gestures as he talked, was simultaneously turning Keith on and making him feel cared for. He composed himself, clicked again, watched as Shiro interacted with a man on screen, fully decked out in gear and on all fours like in the picture. Their body language made it clear they were familiar and comfortable with each other, each of Shiro's touches appeared so gentle, so desired by the pup he was with, than Keith was beginning to feel a bit warm under his clothing again. The video ended, and Keith moved on.
Click, click, click.
The lessons were presented in stages, five stages in all, with dozens of articles within each stage to look over. Keith only grew more turned on as he made his way through the first stage, then moved on to the next. He thought he'd known pretty much everything there was to know about more intense scenes and kinks, in theory. He'd thought he wasn't too interested- he didn't really enjoy pain, or inflicting it on others. He was being proven wrong, on both points, and yet not a single source of pain or humiliation seemed to be around or associated with this Shiro guy's version of pet play. It was all love and care, and that, more than anything, turned Keith on.
The lessons stopped halfway through the second stage, and the site demanded a password from pups under Shiro's care only. Keith groaned in frustration, but he could understand- this was how the guy made money, and he already had a lot of information up for free on his website. Still. Keith hurried back to the Gear tabs, glossing over them, reading about the process of collaring, staring at the gorgeous aesthetic presented in the pictures and the significance of the gear, so much more than simply slipping a dog collar round your neck.
Another check for Kosmo, and Keith quickly shoved at his belt, undoing the buckle clumsily and whipping the thing aside. He pulled his cock free of his boxers, his eyes hooded, face flushed, and lower lip seized harshly between his teeth as he began to stroke himself, merely flushed at first, to his full length. While he did, Keith imagined it- imagined Shiro paying attention to him like that, calling him his pup, presenting him with a collar marking the significance of their bond, their trust in each other, easing the tail plug into him, softly encouraging him as it slipped past, stretched his rim-
Keith moaned out as he came into his hand, tugging himself in a loose fist and bucking his hips through it, before relaxing back for the final time, a pleased sigh escaping his lungs. God damn it, this meant Lance had been right again. Did Keith trust him, when he'd said this was legit? It seemed pretty professional. And he'd seen the chain round Lance's neck. There was a section to contact Shiro at the bottom of the page, and after cleaning himself up and allowing Kosmo to cuddle back into his side, Keith stared at the screen, flipping back and forth between the decision. Should he email this guy? Was it safe to do so?
Keith finally decided fuck it, it was only an email. He could back out at the first sign of anything troubling. Of course, actually writing and sending the thing was another matter entirely. He spent at least half an hour writing, rewriting, and proofing what he sent Shiro- more work than he had to put into his job, at this point- before Keith finally hit send, and settled back to drop off into an exhausted but blissful sleep.
Keith blinked awake late the next morning feeling unusually well-rested and calm, and in from the moment he stretched and groaned, Kosmo was in his face, panting excitedly while his entire body wriggled from the force of his tail wagging. Keith laughed and shoved him away, quickly slipping on his shoes and the lead, before taking Kosmo out for their morning walk. Breakfast was next, more delightfully chunky wet food for Kosmo, coffee for himself. Keith quickly settled in for a day of answering emails, before pausing at an unfamiliar address at the top of his inbox.
Shiro.
He nearly shoved his laptop right off his lap in his eagerness to click on the email, and Keith's eyes focused intently on the screen, one hand tense over his mouth as he scanned the lines of the short, friendly message.
It's nice to meet you, Keith. I'm glad you've taken an interest in my work within the world of pup play. I ask all my potential clients for a few things first, of course…
The email went on to explain the process of getting to know one another, the contracts they would build and sign together, the medical tests Shiro required before he played with anyone. It ended with an offer to video chat later that night, at a time convenient to Keith.
He wasted no time in replying, knowing he likely sounded way too ecstatic about the possibility of chatting with Shiro, but ending with a hopeful tone regardless, letting the man know he'd be free in the later hours of the night. Shiro replied almost immediately with the information needed to contact him, and they soon bid each other goodbye, Keith buzzing as he tried to focus on his work.
Routine had always been his answer to restlessness, but even the simple formula of work, walk Kosmo, eat, and work again was failing him now. Keith kept bouncing his leg, glancing at the clock in anticipation, as the hours slowly, slowly ticked by. Sometime in the evening he finally gave up, pulled up Shiro's website again, and started to scroll through the gallery. Men and women of all sizes and shapes dressed up in pretty pup gear, presenting themselves to a camera or master, or to each other. Keith's heart stopped when he settled on a rather innocent image, a picture of Shiro lovingly kissing the nose of someone in a pup hood, his eyes closed while the eyes peering out of the black leather gazed at him adoringly. It was that loving look that had Keith palming himself through his jeans, before he gave in and drew himself out of his boxers again, not even bothering with fully discarding his belt first.
Keith tried to keep his eyes open and focused on the picture as he worked himself up, but his eyes wanted to roll, squint shut, his back wanted to arch, and thank heaven he didn't have to deal with neighbors. Keith's thumb teased just under his head, massaging the ridges of skin there in deep, quick circles. He swiveled his hips, moaning through his bitten lip as he teased himself, before going back to dragging his fist fast and tight over his shaft.
“Ah-ahn…” Keith's head fell back as his muscles coiled, impossibly tight, almost painfully so. To be loved, to be cared for that way, by a master so attentive and loving as Shiro, to feel sleek material close against your skin, showing off each curve of your body, drawing eyes to admire you… Keith's hand pumped faster, and he toyed with his balls, rolling them over the calloused pads of his fingers as pressure built in his abdomen. To submit to the hood, the collar, being slipped over your head, a commanding hand on the sleek leather-
“Ooh, ooh fuck, fuuuuck…” Keith's ragged cries were dragged from his throat with the pleasure as he reached his orgasm, muscles squeezing tight as he bucked his hips uselessly, over and over, come drawn from the head of his cock until it could only leak, and Keith's voice broke in a whimper as all the strength drained out of him, his body flushed with warmth and his skin alive with shivers. He could hardly drag himself up to take care of the mess, and it was a relief just to sit down again, the afterglow urging him to sink, to sleep, and Keith couldn't fight it as the world faded around him.
He woke to an upbeat, cheerful tone coming from his laptop. Keith blinked awake in confusion, squinting at the bright screen before him, and the first thing he noticed was Shiro's name printed boldly across the screen. It took a moment to realize it was time, Shiro was calling him, and Keith had been dead asleep just moments before.
He shot up, quickly combing his hair into place with his fingers, prayed that there were no embarrassing red marks on his face, and answered on the last ring.
Shiro's smiling face greeted him in an instant, and Keith found himself grinning back, his worries melting away.
“Hey there, Keith. Nice to finally see you.” Shiro's voice, as soft and warm as ever, was music to his ears.
“And you. Sorry I almost missed you,” Keith said genuinely, and his smile softened when a hearty laugh came from his speakers. Shiro's eyes lit up, his chest filled out, and his shoulders shook from the force. Keith decided he loved that laugh.
“I hope I didn't wake you. The last thing I want is to start bothering you when you least need it.” Keith hummed in response.
“It's on me. I got a little… excited, looking at your site again earlier.” At that, Shiro seemed to perk up even more, a spark of interest in his eyes. It was clear he was very into what he was doing.
“Yeah? You comfortable telling me what you did?”
“I jacked off. Teased myself,” Keith's voice grew low and rough around the edges, “Came, all from a single picture…” Shiro tilted his head, looking like a curious puppy himself.
“Which one?”
“It was of you- you were kissing some pup on the nose… you both just looked so happy…” He trailed off when Shiro's eyes softened with recognition, and he wore a smile as he nodded.
“I know the exact pic you're talking about. We were at Pride that day with a few other couples, one of whom snapped the picture when I wasn't paying attention. It ended up being a really nice photo, so I see.” Keith flushed, but he had to agree with the man. “So,” Shiro continued, and Keith refocused himself, meeting those gray eyes to let Shiro know he had his full attention, “As I said, I just wanted to talk and get to know you, your needs, your wants and expectations for our play before I decide to go forward with you. As well as ensure you're not out to murder me and chop me up into little pieces,” Shiro quirked a grin over his folded hands, one sleek white metal and plastic, “I'm sure you've got the same concerns. Comfort and safety is always my number one priority.” Keith was already nodding.
“I understand. It's mine, too. As for what I want out of pet play…” Keith flushed a bit, it'd been a long while since he had any kind of discussion about kink or sex at all, and saying it out loud to a mostly silent home was a bit daunting. But Shiro needed to know, and so Keith would suck it up. “I want to relax, first and foremost. I've been told I need to let go, and I'm starting to see where that's coming from, even agree. I want a release, but I want it to come in a form that's safe, and… loving.” He admitted softly, his eyes downturned, and missed the gentle smile coaxed onto Shiro's face by the words. “But why I want it to be pet play… I want to find that headspace. I want to be a pup, and I want to achieve it your way.” Violet eyes met gray again.
“I read everything I could before contacting you. I'm intrigued by and attracted to the way you do things… I'm not feeling one hundred percent about all of it, but I believe you could be someone I'm comfortable with, safe with. I'm willing to put the effort in…” Keith let his words fade away when he saw the look on Shiro's face, the man's eyes brimming with what looked like… pride? “Did I… say something wrong?” Keith asked roughly, his eyes searching Shiro's.
“You said everything right.” Shiro answered, happiness in his voice so tangible Keith nearly swooned. “So often I meet people with intense expectations and high demands, people who believe this is the means to some sexual end of theirs and, while it can be, I've found much more success with those who are open minded, ready to see what the experience can give them, rather than trying to mold the experience into something else. I'd love to work with you, Keith.” His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
“Yeah… Okay, then.” Keith answered, a small, confident smile on his face. “What do you want to know?”
Apparently, a lot. Keith wouldn't have expected any less. Shiro drilled him on his sexual experience and knowledge, not in some attempt to find a perfect slave, he clarified, so much as to know where Keith was at, to adapt and settle on the same page as him. Shiro wanted to know his kinks, his desires, his fantasies, and divulged his own in turn, pup play of course being the greatest of them all. He'd been participating in kinky sex, Shiro divulged, since the young age of seventeen, and had started his business- “If you can call it that,” he'd added playfully- when he was just twenty-two.
Keith revealed his loss of virginity at just sixteen, his introduction to kink soon after, his two failed relationships, both of which had been very serious and very sensual. For everything Keith gave, Shiro answered with information of his own, always keeping them on equal grounds, offering encouragement and empathy when he sensed Keith needed it. Keith was left feeling understood without having his mind picked, cushioned without being patronized. It was thrilling, really, and when their talk of kink moved to a general idea of physical health and limits, Keith had already learned he was safe to share with Shiro, and was talking easily with him. It took Keith yawning, not even bothering to cover it up, for them both to realize how late it had become, and Shiro shot an apologetic smile at Keith through the screen.
“This has been good.” He said. “But I'm sure you're beat. We can continue tomorrow… Same time?” Sunday. Keith would have to wake up early for work the next day.
“The morning would probably be easier.” It was so simple, letting Shiro know this fact, whereas with anyone else Keith would have felt guilty, like he was demanding too much. It didn't surprise him when Shiro only nodded in understanding.
“Then I'll call you as soon as I get out of church,” Shiro said, deadpan, and in the next instant they were both laughing together, loud and bright and true.
Their talk the next day gradually moved from the necessities- Shiro needed to know about Keith's occasional knee and back pain, of course- to their personal lives, which Shiro had sworn would be protected in more ways than one. Shiro had grown up raised by his single grandfather, had been one of the brightest minds in high school, only for his beloved guardian to pass away, leaving him with nothing and forcing him into the military. He'd excelled in boot camp, and had been told yet again he had a bright future, before losing his arm to stray shrapnel while rescuing a fellow soldier just four months into his service. For the second time in his life, Shiro had struggled, with recovery both physical and emotional, and would likely suffer from PTS for the remainder of his lifetime.
He didn't sulk, however, in fact encouraging Keith to ask questions, and in return Keith instead opened up about himself. He told Shiro of his mother leaving long before he'd ever been old enough to form memories of her himself, of his father's death as a hero, of his time in the homes subjected to neglect and mistreatment, not only from his peers but from the adults put in place to protect him, too. Shiro's empathy returned again, and when Keith mentioned the arts and humanities projects he'd been participating in since high school, he could sense genuine happiness and pride in Shiro's tone when he congratulated Keith on pulling himself out of it all.
It was well into the afternoon when Shiro suddenly paused mid-sentence while talking about his cats, grinning brightly and leaning forward to type quickly.
“Hold on- I've got to go, but I'm sending you my number. Message me anytime.” Keith brightened.
“Okay. Yeah, will do.” The call ended, and Keith fell back onto the couch, grinning at the ceiling and feeling his cheeks flushing a deep rosy red. He groaned contentedly, reaching up to cover his face and stretching. He and Shiro had really hit it off. Speaking of- he should message the guy, before he inevitably forgot. Keith bit his lip, changing his initial first line over and over again in his head, before simply settling for the first that had come to mind.
Hey. It's Keith.
As usual, Shiro responded almost immediately, a picture of a small, stocky looking red and white puppy with perky ears, and the caption below it:
Happy to hear from you. By the way- I'd like to meet up.
Keith took a moment to indulge in the urge to cradle his phone close to his heart, before grinning wide and messaging Shiro back in order to make some plans.