Work Text:
Keith ruminates on his new problem for a week, officially becoming a ball of anxiety and sleeplessness.
That day in the park he had grabbed a stick to poke the ring out of the mess and put it in a separate baggy. Bleaching it thoroughly at home had revealed what he already knew, it was definitely Sendak's college ring. He'd seen it enough times curled around a mug underneath his stupid smirk when he did his rounds to check on everyone's progress.
His immediate question was how the hell it had gotten into Kosmo's stomach, and the more he thought about it the less clear everything became.
Did Sendak frequent a park that Shiro walked Kosmo in and had simply dropped his ring? Did Sendak recognize Shiro from his desk and try to poison his dog out of spite?
Keith wouldn't put it past him to try. The day he'd added a picture of Kosmo to his bulletin board Sendak had made a comment about strays roaming in packs, like the asshole he is.
Then he was on the news.
Sendak had become the next missing person, assumed to have been taken by the killer judging by the suspicious circumstances of his resignation. Their office had been overrun with forensic detectives and their entire team had been questioned about his habits and relationships. Keith had remained outwardly composed and cooperative, but inside he was a wreck.
The killer could have hidden the body somewhere Shiro walked the dog. They must be someone close, someone unafraid to bring bodies into public places.
Someone that a giant dog might not deter.
He didn't want to freak Shiro out, so he kept it to himself – after all, Shiro didn't even know what Sendak looked like, he might not make the connection between his husband's asshole boss and 'Mr. Maurice Sendak, age 54' in the headlines. Hopefully.
Keith insists Shiro take Kosmo with him everywhere until he figures it out. He searches the records from all of the other cases, going back years of missing persons. None have ever been found, but no remains confirming their death have either.
But now...
He grits his teeth and doubles down on his search efforts, holing up in his home office and keeping the door shut from innocent eyes. He only feels slightly crazy with his conspiracy board, but it's worth it. When he prints pictures of all the victims it starts to come together.
There's his one asshole professor from college who tried to fail him after he didn't accept her advances. The mechanic who fucked up his car and tried to hide it, nearly resulting in Keith getting killed on the highway when the transmission suddenly blew. That one guy at the club he and Shiro used to visit who would try to dance too closely regardless of the answer...
The list went on and on, people that Keith had known - some just their faces from an interaction years forgotten. None of them were particularly pleasant people.
He can't really say that he minds the taste of the serial killer, but still.
They're too close to Shiro.
This person obviously runs in the same circles as they do. They frequent the same clubs and college campus, and they might even work with Keith – not that he would blame them for Sendak if they did.
The thought that he might pass by this person on any given day is chilling. What if they've seen his bulletin board of Shiro pictures? What if they decide they want him next?
He can't let it happen.
He scours Shiro's online presence, making sure none of his information is open to the world on social media. Thankfully he has his profiles set to private, but if it's someone they know...
Lance is obviously too much of a loud mouth to keep this kind of thing a secret. Hunk... it's not Hunk, he might over-salt their lunch if he was upset and then apologize a week later at most. Pidge and Matt definitely have the ability and the motivation, but he doubts either one of them would willingly be outside long enough to drag a body anywhere. Allura could, but he really doubts she'd have the time between her long shifts in the Hospital.
Really, if anyone was going to be a suspect here it was him. Kind of creepy loner guy who has several knives and a giant dog capable of eating a person. He could probably even enlist Shiro as the hired muscle to hide a body for him, the man wouldn't even bat an eyelash if Keith really needed the help.
Cursing, he slams his laptop shut and stalks around the room, tugging at his hair. He needs to tell Shiro. Every moment that he's out there and unaware is a moment he's at risk of being the next target.
Shiro is going to be home in an hour, so if he wants to break the news gently without worrying him too badly he'll have to set the scene.
Which means lots of blankets and mac and cheese.
He grabs all of the extra fluffy blankets from their linen closet and arranges them artfully on the couch, creating a cozy nest big enough for all three of them. The pillows from the bed are stolen and shoved around the corners until there isn't a nook or cranny uncushioned. Mac and cheese only takes him twenty minutes to make and throw in a pan to keep heated, and he pulls two bottles of their favorite beer out of the fridge.
It's as good as it's going to get, nothing left to do but settle into the nest and wait for Shiro and Kosmo.
He tries to focus on the bland TV show droning in the background but the unsettled nerves in his stomach and his own accelerated heartbeat thumping steadily in his ears drown it out. He wipes sweaty palms back and forth across the denim on his thighs as he tries to find the right words.
Maybe starting with 'Now don't freak out but-' won't be the best idea...
He's halfway through chewing off his fingernails when the garage door opening announces their arrival, followed shortly by the clicking of nails on the garage floor and the happy bark as Shiro opens the door and Kosmo flies to the couch to smother Keith in love.
It's exactly what he needed.
“Hey buddy! Did you have a good day?” He smooshes Kosmo's face between his palms and accepts the kisses all over his face. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”
Shiro drops his bag and toes off his shoes as he throws Keith a smirk. “I thought you only called me Daddy when-”
“Shiro!” Keith cuts him off with a gasp, covering Kosmo's ears. “Not in front of the baby!”
He snorts in response and pads over to the couch to drop a kiss on Keith's hair before pulling back to survey their new décor.
“So, what's all this?”
“Oh, you know.” Keith hedges, eyes shifty. “Just wanted to have a comfortable night in... there's mac and cheese.”
“Oh?” Shiro perks up, successfully distracted as he wanders into the kitchen. “Aww, and my favorite beer! Sweetheart, you shouldn't have!”
He grabs two plates and bottles and makes his way back to where Keith has been flattened by Kosmo, setting everything down on the coffee table and snuggling into the pile.
“So, what's the occasion?”
Keith chuckles nervously and eases Kosmo off of him to grab his beer, taking a long swig as he thinks.
“Well ah, you know... been a rough week.”
Shiro cocks an eyebrow at him as he shovels mac and cheese into his mouth. His gaze is thoughtful as he chews and puts the plate down.
“You have been a little tense lately.” He reaches over to rub his thumb against Keith's knee. “Everything okay at work?”
Keith chokes on his beer and sputters it all over and indignant Kosmo.
“S'fine!” He gasps, batting away Shiro's concerned hand as he thumps his chest. “Work is fine.”
He sucks in a deep breath, wringing his hands as he meets Shiro's concerned gaze.
“It's just... you've seen the news lately, right?”
Shiro's brow furrows.
“The strawberry festival? Did you want to go to that?” His shoulders slump. “We could have gone if I had known...”
Keith has to resist the urge to drag a hand down his face.
“No Shiro, the serial killer.”
“Oh.” Shiro stiffens a moment before easing into a smile and ruffling Kosmo's fur. “But that's what we have this good boy for!”
Keith can't help but smile as Kosmo lifts his nose to accept proper loving, but Shiro needs to understand.
“No, Shiro.” He grabs his hand and looks him in the eye. “I think I know them.”
Shiro's whole body tenses and his hand seizes like a vice around Keith's.
“Baby-”
“Not like, exactly-” Keith rushes to assure him, bringing their clasped hands up to kiss. “But I think they know me... know us.”
Shiro swallows hard and lets out a gust of breath. “What makes you say that?”
He is thankful for how steady his voice is.
“The people who went missing, I've come in contact with all of them.”
“Baby it's a small town...”
Keith shakes his head, frown pulling his mouth to the side.
“Not like this. You remember my awful professor? And that shitty mechanic?”
Nodding a little, Shiro finally looks uneasy.
“I'm sure you're not the only person that had problems with them, and those are high contact jobs...”
“They got Sendak.”
Shiro starts a bit and eyes Keith carefully.
“And that's... a bad thing?”
“Well, no... ugh.” Keith blows out a frustrated breath, scrubbing his face with his hands before looking back up at Shiro. “Look, the guy was an asshole, don't get me wrong. But he was specifically an asshole to people he worked with. And there are pictures of you all over my cube.”
His husband looks at him blankly, clearly not following.
“Shiro, I could be working with a serial killer. They could know exactly what you look like and that you have a heart of gold. I gush about you.”
The fool beams at him, cheeks tinged pink.
“Aww, Baby, you talk about me at work?”
Keith slaps his hands to his face with a growl.
“That's not the point, you could be in danger!”
The unaffected shrug in response is not what he expected, and is certainly not welcome.
“I think it'll be fine. I've got Kosmo, you're on high alert. The chances of crossing paths with this person are probably low.”
Time to bring out the big guns. Keith sighs, not wanting to have to resort to scare tactics as he reaches under the couch to grab the baggie from where he'd stashed it. The ring hits the table with a clang that seems to echo in the quiet room.
Shiro eyes it like a bomb.
“A... ring?”
The fabric under his hands twists as Keith's fists clench.
“It's Sendak's ring.”
Grey eyes dart up to his, wide with fear and confusion. Shiro's jaw works, but nothing comes out.
“Kosmo had eaten it somehow.”
Those eyes dart down to Kosmo, vaguely betrayed. Shiro tuts at him before running a hand over his belly.
“I thought we talked about not eating bad things, buddy.” He looks back up at Keith, obviously worried. “He didn't get sick did he?”
Or course he's worried about the dog. He loves the dog more than himself.
Keith counts to ten, pinching the bridge of his nose before responding.
“Kosmo is fine.” He lets go and levels Shiro with a flat look. “But that means that you physically crossed paths with a murderer and didn't realize it.”
Shiro deflates.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, 'Oh!'” Keith practically explodes, throwing his hands in the air and making both dog and husband jump. Kosmo shimmies off the couch and stick his head under the table. “This is serious, you could be next!”
“Easy, love.” Shiro plants a hand on Keith's knee and pulls him in for a hug as he rubs his back soothingly. “What would you like us to do?”
Slumping into the hug is automatic as Keith weighs the question. It had been plaguing him for days and there's still not a great answer.
“I'm not sure.” He sighs into Shiro's shoulder. “We should probably start by contacting the police and turning over the ring as evidence.”
The hug becomes very tense. Shiro draws back to look at him, face dark in thought.
“That'll bring a lot of attention our way.”
Keith blinks at him. “So? You can tell them where you've been with Kosmo... maybe they'll find the bodies based on something else he's eaten.” He pauses at the hesitant look on Shiro's face. “I know you don't like attention, but the faster they catch this guy the safer we'll be.”
The prosthetic trembles as Shiro reaches out for his beer bottle again, taking a long pull before setting it back down and staring at Keith head on. He clasps both of their hands together, pulling Keith to his chest and down into a pillowy corner.
“What if I told you that you didn't have to worry about him.”
Shiro voice rumbles through Keith's chest and he relaxes into the embrace before the words register and his eyes fly open.
“What... are you talking about.”
The chest behind him rises as Shiro sucks in a breath.
“What if... I knew who he was already. And I know that we're safe.”
Keith pushes off and scrambles around to face Shiro.
“Are you fucking with me? If you're fucking with me you're dead. This is serious Shiro I-”
“I'm serious, Keith.”
His vision tunnels and Keith can hear the blood roaring in his ears. Shiro has known this entire time, has watched him panic over it and not said anything. He needs to know...
“Who.”
“Is it really that impor-”
“Shiro, Who?”
He watches Shiro's throat bob as he swallows, hears it click dryly. His heart crumbles a little as Shiro's voice comes out raspy.
“Do you trust me, Sweetheart?”
He wants to. Of course he does. He always has. But this... his thoughts spiral.
How long has it been going on? People have been disappearing for years. If Shiro knows, has he known the entire time? Has he been hiding bodies and evidence for this person? He's been living a double life this entire time, moonlighting with some stranger willing to kill... how can Keith trust him now? He said 'him' what if...
He's shaking when a hand caresses his cheek.
“Baby?”
“Don't.” He barely chokes the word out, squeezing his eyes shut against the hurt look on Shiro's face. “How long?”
“Keith...”
“From the beginning? How long has this been going on? How long have you been lying to me?”
“I...” Shiro's breath hitches and his hands drop away from Keith's. “Five years. From the beginning. I'm sorry.”
Keith chokes on a sob as it rises, needing to know.
“You said 'him'-” He takes a shuddering breath and opens his eyes to meet Shiro's, needing to know the truth. “Do you love him too? Shiro I won't share, I can't-” He chokes off, curling into himself.
Shiro's bewildered stare isn't reassuring.
“Keith – Sweetheart... what?”
“Takashi, I know you'd hide a body for me, you love me. If you're doing it for someone else...”
Understanding dawns in Shiro's eyes and he has the audacity to laugh.
“Oh! Oh. No.” He grins at Keith and leans forward to peck him on the nose, still chuckling. “Absolutely not, I'd only ever hide your bodies.”
Keith blinks up at him.
Shiro blinks back.
“What?”
His eyes blow wide in realization and Shiro slaps a hand to his forehead.
“Fuck.”
“What the fuck??” Keith lunges forward and grabs Shiro by the collar, yanking him up to his face. “Shiro what the fuck is going on.”
Kosmo whines from the floor and tucks his head under his paws. Keith's head whips toward him and his eyes narrow as he turns to stare at Shiro.
“You fed our boy people?!”
Shiro gets out a gurgle as Keith's fists tighten on his collar but he makes no move to escape.
“He could have choked on that ring, you idiot!” He gives another shake for good measure before releasing one hand to jab a finger his Kosmo's direction. “Human flesh contains so many diseases! Apologize to him!”
The noise that Shiro garbles out might be an apology but Keith isn't letting go enough to check.
“I was so worried that you were going to get killed with your altruistic bullshit and you didn't even bother to tell me it was you all along!”
Shiro opens his mouth to respond but is steamrolled by Keith's anger.
“No! I'm not done!” He jabs a finger in Shiro's face. “I put up with your weird-ass goth phase this entire time, thinking it was just something you were into and...” He trails off, horrified disgust dawning on his face. “Shiro I touched those fucking teeth! Jesus! Whose teeth even were those?”
He yanks back and stares down at his hands while Shiro sucks in sputtering breaths.
“And the kidney!” Keith's voice has risen approximately two octaves. “I put a murder kidney in my good glassware!” He growls and clamps his hands on either side of Shiro's face. “You put a murder kidney in my good pot! I made food in that pot a month later! I'm practically a cannibal!”
He gives a sort of growling screech as he flaps his hand to rid them of murder taint while Shiro gapes like a fish beneath him.
“Sweetheart I'm-”
“No!” Keith bats a hand in his face with a glare. “I'm not done yet!”
Shiro raises his hands in surrender and leans back into the pillows as Keith fumes over him.
Kosmo continues his attempt to hide his face under the table.
“I even supported your habits when you wanted to make sangria and took up gardening, both of which had you dirtying up the house all the time, and-” He cuts off with a strangled sound and slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes narrowed.
Shiro flinches and assumes his most apologetic face.
“That wasn't sangria, was it?” Keith's tone is the eye of a hurricane.
Shiro shakes his head meekly, his best charming smile wobbling on his lips.
“It had orange juice in it?”
Wrong answer.
“Shiro! That got in my mouth! In my mouth, Shiro!” Keith fumes and claws at his tongue. “Did you even test these people for disease? Do I need to see if I've contracted anything horrible from them?”
Shiro flinches and ducks his head.
“No. But you're fine, I know that er... batch, was clean.”
Keith is mildly relieved, but still thinks he might puke. Shiro deserves to be thrown up on at this point.
“Just... what the fuck Shiro?”
He's run out of steam at this point. Relief at not being on the murder list and general horror burning through his capacity for emotion.
“Well you see...” Shiro begins tentatively, waiting to be cut off. Keith's raised eyebrow encourages him to continue and he clears his throat. “You see, these people were not nice to you.”
Keith's other eyebrow raises to join the first and he gestures for Shiro to continue.
Shiro shrugs back.
“That's it?” Keith is flabbergasted.
“Well...” Shiro hedges, looking at Kosmo as if he has a better reason. “I mean – yeah, basically.”
Dragging a hand down his face for the countless time tonight doesn't help, but it makes Keith feel better.
“You killed these people because they were not nice to me.”
His husband scowls and crosses his arms.
“Well it sounds silly when you say it like that.”
“You literally just said it like that!”
His nose wrinkles and Shiro screws up his face.
“Well, like your professor. She could have ruined your life.” Keith nods, conceding the point, and Shiro continues emboldened. “And that mechanic nearly got you killed, he probably did it to more people too.”
Keith shrugs and nods again.
“Fine, but club guy? And that one bartender?”
Shiro's face darkens.
“Those two spiked your drink when we were out - that glass I shattered on the bar when my arm 'malfunctioned'.”
Well that explains a bit. Keith had been worried about Shiro's circuitry for months afterward but it never happened again.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Shiro shrugs and reaches forward to pull Keith into his arms, face melting in relief when he falls willingly into the embrace. “I'm sorry I worried you, Sweetheart.” He nuzzles his face into Keith's hair and inhales deeply. “I just didn't know how to tell you and didn't want to lose you...”
Keith curls into the arms that have been protecting him for years, albeit through murderous vigilante justice.
“Shiro... I could never leave you.” He laces their fingers together and places them against his heart. “I just wish you had let me know... you don't have to do this.”
He can feel the halfhearted shrug at his back and resigns himself to losing this argument. It's not really worth it anyway.
“So, we're gonna need some ground rules.” He injects his voice with as much cheer as he can after this debacle and Kosmo perks up from the floor, ready to clamber onto the couch. “Who else is on this list?”