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“This is our new suit?” Keith twists and turns to stare at his body, frowning at his reflection. The suit looks like latex, but it feels more like the old Marmora suit whenever he moves around in it. It even squeaks with every movement.
The one problem he has with the suit is the fact that it's transparent and skin-tight. Despite the material's black tint, it still shows off his body. His nipples are on full display, and the suit hugs the curve of his ass. Thankfully, there's a zipper going from his crotch to his ass, so at least some part of him remains fully hidden.
“Yes,” a masked Blade replies.
“Is it supposed to look like this?” Keith asks, glancing over at them.
“Yes,” the same Blade answers.
“The lack of weighted armor will help you move faster,” a different masked Blade adds. “It’s supposed to be insulated as well. You don’t feel cold, do you?”
“I think we’d all know if I felt cold,” Keith responds dryly. He pointedly doesn’t look down at his nipples.
“Do you want to try fighting in it?”
“Why?” he asks, tilting his head and eyeing them curiously. They both shift guiltily, and Keith sighs in exasperation. “Let me guess,” he says. “This is a prototype suit, and you need to see how it fares in combat before you commission more.”
“Yes,” the first Blade says after a beat. “That makes sense.”
“Next time, please tell me beforehand,” Keith replies, rolling his eyes. “That way you don't have to spend so much time convincing me to try it on. You all know I'd do anything to help the Blades.”
“We'll keep that in mind. Also, don't forget these.”
Black, latex looking gloves are held out to him, along with a pair of black combat boots that have a small heel. He sighs again but dutifully puts them on without question, and then finally heads for the training room.
★ ★
Keith pins the larger Blade down, holding his dagger to their neck as he glowers into the glowing eyes of the mask. His expression lightens when he feels them go pliant, so he picks both of them up and pats their shoulder.
“Good fight,” he says. “You gave me such easy openings, though. Were you distracted or something?”
“Or something,” they say, and stride over to the group of beaten Blades in the corner of the room. Usually, they'd be sore losers about the loss. Today, they actually look happy to be there.
Keith drifts over to the benches, snatching up his hand towel and pressing it against his face as he sits down. He's not sweating too much, and he thinks it might be one of the perks to this new suit. The only thing he's worried about now is his scent – the old suit suppressed it so he wouldn’t be detected, and he’s not sure if this one does the same.
He glances around and sees three unmasked Blades sitting a ways behind him. Keith stretches his legs out and tips his head back over the bench, turning his view upside-down.
“Can you smell me?” he asks once he has their attention.
One of the newer recruits, a quiet Galra named Bruin, clears his throat. His cheeks turn a dark shade of purple when he leans forward and sniffs the air. “Yes, sir,” he says politely. “It's not as strong as when you're in your civilian clothes, but it's there.”
Keith sighs. “Looks like the suit needs more work, then.”
There's a loud clattering across the room, followed by an equally loud curse. Keith lifts his head to look towards the source. He frowns when he sees Griffin clutching his face in his hands while he sits on the floor. Kinkade stares down at him impassively. When Keith sees the hand weights rolling across the floor, he guesses that Griffin must have hit himself in the face with them.
Someone needs to teach him how to properly work the equipment, he absently thinks. His vision becomes obscured by a new Blade, who stands before Keith with their sword drawn.
“You want to spar?” he asks, leading them to the center of the room after they nod. Even though Keith has been at this for a couple of hours, he's not ready to stop now.
He can see people perking up in his peripheral, leaning forward as Keith and the Blade get into a proper fighting stance. Keith figures they're hoping to learn something from this fight and decides he'll show off a little. It'll be an example of what they can achieve if they put in more effort.
Keith doesn't hold back, moving as quickly as his lithe body allows. He dodges sword strike after sword strike before retaliating with jabs of his own. Keith also gets physical with his attacks, throwing his body forward to wrap around the taller Blade in an attempt to bring him down.
It actually works a few times.
The doors open halfway through their sparring match. Keith glances over for a split second, a smile stretching across his face.
“Shiro!” Keith calls out happily. “I’ll be right there!”
He turns his attention back to the Blade and dodges the incoming strike of a blade. With one sweep of his leg, he has them on the floor with the tip of his blade pressed to their throat.
Keith waits until they yield before picking them up, shaking their arm to indicate the completion of their match. There are a few scattered groans here and there, but he pays them no mind as he makes his way over to Shiro.
“Shiro,” he greets warmly, looking him over in concern when Shiro visibly falters. “Are you okay?”
“I – I’m alright,” Shiro says. His voice sounds a little too high, and he can’t seem to make eye contact with Keith. “Matt told me you were training with some of the Blades and I, uh. I wanted to come watch.”
“You’re not the only one,” Keith mutters, glancing around the room. There are aliens and humans alike sat against the walls of the training room. “Guess they all wanted to learn some new tricks.”
There’s an edge to Shiro’s words when he says, “Guess so.”
Keith frowns. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Peachy.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay, Shiro.” He snorts. “Do you want to spar? Maybe that’ll take the edge off.”
“I shouldn’t,” Shiro says quickly. “I have to go to another meeting after this and I don’t want to show up with signs that I’ve had my ass kicked.”
Keith laughs, shoving his shoulder. “As if you can’t do the same!”
“We’re on an even scale now. The victory could go to either one of us.”
He rolls his eyes and lightly punches Shiro's left arm. “I'm actually going to stop now, so I guess I'll see you later.” Keith hums thoughtfully. “Maybe we can spar later in the night?”
“Sounds good to me,” Shiro replies, cheeks tinted pink. He tentatively opens his arms, a half-smile on his face.
“Alright,” Keith grumbles, meeting Shiro for a warm embrace. They've been more touchy with each other lately, and Keith is secretly glad for it. “Bye, Shiro,” he says. He squeezes Shiro tightly before releasing him, smiling once again.
Shiro returns the smile, albeit slightly strained, and turns to leave. He accidentally walks face-first into the door and stumbles back, clutching his face with a pained groan. Keith gasps and rushes to draw him off to the side, hovering worriedly.
“Are you okay?” he asks, panicked.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Shiro says rather nasally. “No big deal, see?”
When he pulls his hand away from his face, Keith sees that his nose is bleeding. It starts off as a slow drip, droplets falling onto the training room floor and Shiro’s jacket, but it soon turns into a steady flow that forces Shiro to tilt his head back. Keith quickly goes over to the other side of the room to grab his hand towel, bringing it back so Shiro can use it to staunch the nosebleed.
"It might be a little sweaty, but it's the best thing I have," Keith says apologetically. Shiro is sitting on the floor now, back against the wall. Keith crouches over him while they wait for a Medic to arrive. He sent one of the Blades out to get them, worried that Shiro may have seriously injured himself.
“How did this happen?” he wonders. “You’re usually aware of your surroundings….”
“Guess I was a little distracted,” Shiro replies with a gross sniff, head tilted toward Keith. His face turns red, and he sounds strangled when he says, “You got a new suit.”
“You barely noticed?” Keith teases, balancing himself with a hand on Shiro’s arm. “Your head is in the clouds today, Shiro.”
“No, no. I noticed it before. I just forgot to mention it 'till now.” Shiro presses the towel against his nose more firmly, sniffling again. He holds Keith's gaze for a few seconds before his eyes drop down. His cheeks turn a darker shade of red. “I-It looks good, Keith.”
“Really?” Keith asks, sitting in front of Shiro with his legs beneath him. The suit squeaks when his thighs rub against each other, so he spreads them to stop it from happening again. It’s annoying. “You don’t think it’s a bit too much?”
Shiro bangs the back of his head against the wall.
“Shiro!” Keith cries in alarm, reaching out to gently grab Shiro’s head. His gloved hand prevents him from properly feeling for injuries, so he bites one of the fingers and pulls the glove off with his teeth. He brushes his bare hand over the area. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Shiro says with a wheeze, eyes squeezed shut. “Is the Medic here yet?”
“They should be coming soon,” Keith assures. There’s no bump, thankfully, but Keith still rubs over the spot for good measure. It’s the only way he can soothe the ache.
When the Medic finally arrives, Keith stays by Shiro's side. He raises a (privately judgemental) brow when the man nearly falls over after glancing at Keith. The Medic checks Shiro's status and injuries, handing him an ice pack with instructions to take it easy. After the man leaves, Shiro somehow manages to bump his knee against the doorway while he's walking away.
“You’re a disaster,” Keith tells him fondly. He helps Shiro limp his way to his meeting, wrapping an arm around his waist while they walk. Keith took up the task without hesitation, knowing Shiro wasn't going to ask. "A walking disaster."
“I know,” Shiro says, sounding rather glum.
“Good thing I’m here to help you through it.”
He drops Shiro off in one of the conference rooms, kindly ordering one of the other officers to keep an eye on him. Keith gets a few wide-eyed looks after that, and one of the passing cadets spills coffee down his jacket. It's weird, but he figures they're just not used to Keith being in charge.
"Stay safe," he says playfully, giving Shiro a quick hug before taking off. Since he's not going to train anymore, maybe he should have some food.
★ ★
Or not.
“You want me to do what?” Keith questions flatly, staring up at the purple silk ropes that are dangling from the ceiling. He’s in a private training room that a few other Blades pulled him into while he was on his way to the cafeteria.
“Climb them, of course. We’d like to test your flexibility in this suit,” a tall Blade says, gently nudging him in the direction of the largest rope. “We’ll even join you.”
“The combat data wasn't enough?” Keith questions with a frown. He wraps his hands around the rope and gives it a tug to test its strength. “Are you sure you need me to do this?”
All seven Blades chorus a resounding, “ Yes. ”
Keith sighs and peels off his gloves, bending down to unlace his boots. He sets both items aside in order to approach the rope, looping it around a foot and a hand before pulling himself up.
Lance comes storming into the room with Romelle, Kosmo, and the other Paladins trailing behind him when Keith is a few feet above the floor. His hair hangs out beneath him, back arched and legs fixed into a split as he dangles upside down. Their loud, surprised exclamations nearly break his concentration, but Keith manages to cling to it tightly as he begins to slowly lower himself to the ground.
He does a couple of spins, carefully swinging from one rope to another and allowing it to wrap around his body as he slides all the way down. His body twists and turns in graceful movements, an exhilarating freedom where he can show off all the power his lithe body contains.
The suit squeaks when his thighs rub together, silk rope caught between them as he nears the floor. A couple of other Blades silently drop down and crowd near him, helping him down with their clawed hands gripping his waist. He flashes a smile and pats them in thanks, stretching his limbs as he gets used to the feeling of being on the ground again.
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” Rhatal, one of the only unmasked Blades in the room, says. His smooth ears twitch when Keith peers up at him, cheeks stained violet as he takes a step back. “A-And thank you for helping me fix my form. You’re a wonderful teacher.”
The praise makes Keith more than a little flustered, and all he can do is nod in response. The Blades take their leave when he's leaning down to touch his toes. Keith can hear five sets of footsteps (and one set of wolf steps) come closer, all coming to a stop beside him. From his peripheral, he can see Kosmo sitting patiently with a wagging tail.
No one says anything, but Keith can feel their eyes on him. He slowly comes up after counting to twenty in his head, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders back with a hum.
Lance is the first to speak, voice full of indignation, “You’re turning the whole Atlas upside-down!”
Keith opens one eye to stare at him. “And how am I doing that?” he drawls.
“‘How am I doing that,’ he says.” Lance scoffs and crosses his arms. “Don’t act like you don’t know what’s happening!”
“Let’s start with the basics,” Pidge smoothly cuts in. She stares straight into his face and nowhere else. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“It’s a prototype Blades suit,” he explains, crouching down to run his hands over Kosmo’s head. Kosmo’s tail wags faster. “I’m testing it out for them.”
“That’s what they told you?” Pidge asks. She sounds like she doesn’t believe him.
“Yes?” Keith answers, a bit confused. “Why else would they ask me to try it on?”
“Because you look good in it?” Romelle offers brightly.
"The Blades aren't shallow. I doubt they'd make me wear it for something as simple as that," he replies, idly scratching behind Kosmo's ears. Keith catches the looks they exchange and stares up at them in surprise. "You actually think that's why they did it?"
“Of course! And now, everyone keeps talking about you and that damn suit!” Lance shouts, throwing his hands up into the air. “So many people have asked if I can help them get a picture with you and it’s driving me crazy! You’re taking my popularity away!”
“You never had it,” Pidge retorts.
“People have been affected by this?” Keith asks dumbly, staring down at himself. “Why?”
“Have you seen yourself, Keith?” Hunk asks incredulously. “Like, really looked at yourself? It’s no surprise that everyone loves it. Why do you think the Atlas is falling apart today?”
He remembers all the people that acted weird around him today, the Blades that willingly sparred with him without complaint, and Shiro hurting himself – all of which happened after seeing Keith in the suit. Combined with what his friends have been saying, the realization hits him hard.
“Oh,” is all he can manage.
Allura pats the top of his head.
★ ★
Keith stands outside the door to Shiro’s room, worrying at his bottom lip. Eventually, he shuffles forward with a sigh and presses his forehead to the cool metal.
He made his way over immediately after the conversation with his friends, determined to know if the reason for Shiro’s injuries was a result of looking at Keith’s suit. Now that he’s here, all of his courage has left him.
The door abruptly swishes open, startling Keith. He ends up falling forward with a small squeak, landing on something firm that releases a faint grunt. Keith flushes when he realizes that he's pressed up against Shiro, and slowly looks up.
Shiro's staring back at him with wide eyes, cheeks ruddy in color. There's an arm loosely wrapped around Keith's waist, and it grips him tighter when Shiro audibly swallows.
“You like my suit,” Keith blurts out, embarrassingly enough. He huffs and buries his face in Shiro’s shirt, privately enjoying the feel of his plush chest. “No, no. That’s not what I mean to say, sorry. I came here to talk to you about—”
“I do,” Shiro’s voice cuts in, quiet but strong.
Keith lifts his head. “What?”
“I – I like your suit, Keith.” Shiro’s eyes darken when Keith looks into them, their faces inching closer. The hand splayed across his hip moves to his lower back, toying with the zipper of his suit. Heat curls low in his gut, and Keith absently thanks the Blades that tricked him into this. “I’ll show you how much.”
The door shuts and locks behind them.