Work Text:
The Captain – or Shiro now, as he continues to insist that Keith call him – is an interesting man. Keith had known this before they had entered into their engagement, but the extra time afforded to him in the Captain's presence only solidifies this truth in his mind.
Especially since the man appears to have developed a modified case of the affliction that plagues poor Matt.
“Shiro,” Keith speaks into the quiet air of the office, pausing to savor the 'nickname' as the Captain looks up from his paperwork with a smile. “Has the younger Holt upset you?”
Shiro blinks at him, head cocked like the Earth dogs sometimes do – a sign of confusion among their people. “Katie? No, she can be a little... odd sometimes, but not recently, why?”
“Ah, I did not mean the Holt still in her pupal stages.” Keith shakes his head, recalling the warnings Kolivan had provided them against prolonged interaction with the not quite fully developed humans... apparently neither their frontal cortex nor their adrenal system function properly until full maturation, and they are to be handled like wild Karvaxian hounds. Keith is inclined to agree with him on this point, despite limited opportunity to gather data personally – he once witnessed the pupal Holt stick her finger in acid to test it, then proceed to shriek curses that would make Ulaz blush when burned.
Clearly in need of a few more cycles of maturation.
“Oh.” The Captain's brows furrow for a moment, then his face flicks through some complicated combination that Keith can't quite parse. “No, I'm not upset with Matt.”
A lie, clearly, which is particularly interesting since the Captain's body language tells are so obvious that even Keith can pick up on it, despite the smile plastered over his face.
Keith rolls to sit up from where he's been lounging on the Captain's small couch, ostensibly there to do his work. His paperwork is mostly untouched, but he is essentially a spy still, so this counts as work as well.
“I do not think that is an accurate statement.” He leans forward and cups his chin in his hand, leveling the Captain with a gaze that has broken the spirits of many Galra captives. “Your behavior and mannerisms toward him indicate otherwise.”
Grey eyes blink back at him from a face that slowly turns pink as the Captain quails. Keith can almost hear the way his heart picks up under the scrutiny. It's a miracle the man didn't have access to particularly sensitive information on his first instance of capture if this is how he responds to interrogation as a hardened combatant.
“I, er... well... you see-” he stumbles over his words, dropping his pen onto the desk and shuffling his papers in a common delaying tactic. It won't work. Keith has plenty of time and he knows the Captain's schedule inside and out to further cement their engagement, “-the thing is, um...”
“He can be rather upsetting,” Keith offers, a stick from the pungent tree with the hardly edible pitted fruits that the humans pickle to promote peace. “If not in speech, then certainly in appearance.”
The Captain – no, Shiro now that he's startled into a surprised smile – laughs aloud. “Keith! Was that a joke about Matt's face?”
He looks utterly delighted, and Keith can't help but preen. He's finally getting the nuance of human humor – which generally means finding a target's weak point and exploiting... gently... and usually to someone else.
“It may have been, if you are upset with his face,” Keith concedes with a sly smile. “What has he done now?”
“Ah...” The pink is back as Shiro rubs at his neck like the humans tend to do when flustered. “Well, he just likes to tease, you know how he can be.”
Keith does know. Though he's fairly certain that he is spared the brunt of the teasing that he may otherwise be targeted with by virtue of their friendship. Matt has been an invaluable ally in his quest to become knowledgeable in human culture, and in the rules of engagement. Just this past movement he had been introduced to the important ritual of the proclamation of their revered tribal singer, the honorable Astley. Shiro had succumbed to an attack of the ailment that afflicts Matt when he had tried to share his new knowledge, so Keith has refrained from performing the ritual around the Captain since.
Though he does hold the Captain's picture when he intones the incantation to never give up, nor let down, nor desert the intended... of all the humans deserving of ancient devotion, surely the Captain is the most such.
“If the Holt has caused you psychological harm, I can persuade him to discontinue.” Keith had cataloged the numerous weak points in Matt's defenses upon their initial meeting, the man has spindly bird limbs and wheezes like a Narx slug when required to exert himself.
“More than you will ever know.” Shiro sighs, but he's still smiling at Keith as he shakes his head. “Please don't remove Matt's spleen or anything, he's just a chronic pest.”
Keith can feel his lips thin at the insinuation that he'd need to resort to something as drastic as surgery or disembowelment to incapacitate the engineer, as if he were a kit incapable of trussing the man for proper interrogative persuasion. “I have been led to believe that your planet considers pests to be a menace to be removed at once.”
“You're not wrong,” Shiro laughs again with a half shrug, the way he does when not surrounded by his crew. Keith enjoys witnessing the laxity with which he carries himself when they are alone, particularly when it is extended to his proximity, like Shiro appears to be doing now as he stands to stretch and holds out an arm. “Let's not maim Matt for now, okay? I'm sure he'll get bored of his game eventually.”
Nodding sharply, Keith stands and strides across the room to tuck himself under Shiro's arm. The man's face is flushed again and, despite Shiro's insistence that it is not always an indicator of agitation, Keith lets the purr rumble in chest just in case. Careful observation has led him to the conclusion that humans are particularly vulnerable to his harmonic frequencies – jellying their muscles into involuntary states of relaxation. He had sent the findings in a report to Kolivan of course, with the suggestion that it could perhaps be weaponized in the future, but for today his intentions remain benign.
Though the Captain is still exceedingly trusting for letting him in so close to his vital organs, as if his claws weren't capable of shredding his uniform in mere tics. Keith can only hope that the trust is an extension of their engagement and that he does not allow other deadly species to get so close.
The thought of another being of any type tucked where he is has his purr rolling into what might be considered a growl, were the Captain capable of hearing his sub-harmonics.
Thankfully, human auditory systems are terrible... as are most of their sensory organs.
Really, it's a wonder they made it to space.
“Do your plans for the night include rations?” Keith smiles up at him with all his canines on display – it may be phrased as a question, as humans do, but the Captain will be fed one way or another.
“Why, Keith!” Shiro brings his free hand to his chest with a gasp, “Are you asking me to dinner?”
“Yes.”
Shiro's smile wobbles into something that is perhaps... endeared? The same look the man gives small mammals, Keith is not sure if he should be offended.
“Sure, let me just grab my jacket and we can head down to the mess hall-”
“Would my quarters not suffice?” Keith asks, trying not to frown up at him, “I have recently obtained materials for your planet's traditional rations, I was told you would perhaps appreciate them.”
“Oh!” The red flush is back on Shiro's face... he is startled, perhaps? “I didn't know you could cook! I mean, I knew you had a kitchen of course, but uh...” The man trails off with a shrug and a wave of his hand. “Lead the way.”
Another human expression, one that does not require him to clear the hallways to ensure the safety of the Captain during his approach, as Keith has come to learn. As such, he does not need to leave the warm confines of Shiro's side as they leave the room and traverse the ship toward Keith's quarters.
Ideal.
Still, he can't help but size up each crew member they pass in the halls, assessing their threat potential as they snap crisp salutes. The Captain returns them all with an easy dismissal, not slowing their stride – much to Keith's relief. It's bad enough trying to understand the customs of one human, but their jabbering becomes nearly incomprehensible to his translator in a group. The blue suited one and the pupal Holt in particular speak almost completely in half-formed words and some grunting dialect that refuses to be given meaning. He made the effort to surveil in a social manner one time, in the name of diplomacy of course, and nearly caused an incident by insulting the blue one... somehow.
Human egos are as fragile as their organs.
It is fortunate that the Captain has 'thicker skin' as Matt says, though Keith hasn't noticed anything unusual about the make up of his skin – perhaps his relative lack of body hair for his species has led to imperceptible increases in epidermal layers to compensate... he'll have to ask Ulaz later.
It would be a shame if such human variances caused a lack of sensitivity, especially since he is fairly certain that he and the Captain – or rather, Shiro – may have begun the process of human courting. At least, that's what Kolivan had indicated in a moment of surprise when Keith had reported back about his successful trials. Apparently the humans treat the act of sealing, or kissing as Shiro had called it, as a formal act of courtship – akin to tasting the pheromones of a mate.
A happy surprise – he doubts Matt was aware of the importance, due to his own obvious lack of human courting experience. Keith had been pleased to be able to share his newfound human knowledge with a brilliant mind like his... if nothing else perhaps Matt can be convinced to donate genetic material for preservation efforts should he not be able to find a suitable partner himself.
Either way, he is grateful to have learned that humans can engage in kissing more often than their annual ritual requires, especially since the Captain is typically skilled at the task. Keith can only hope to prove himself equally capable of completing other human courting rights – such as the providing of sustenance and the viewing of shared screens. It does seem prudent that such a cooperative society would value these traits in a mate, the ability to provide and effectively complete a task together... Keith can only hope that Shiro is equally as interested in completing typical Galran tasks.
He certainly wouldn't mind grooming such an attractive specimen, and he's almost certain the formal sparring for dominance would be exhilarating with such a formidable partner.
But first... he must pass this new human trial.
The fine hairs all along his skin are standing on end with anticipation by the time they reach his quarters, and Keith can't suppress his smug thrill as he gestures to the keypad.
“Go ahead, Shiro. I have had your access logged as an esteemed guest.”
As expected, the Captain flushes red – a sign that Keith is beginning to enjoy on one human in particular – and he places his palm against the scanner, smiling wide when it blinks and lets him in.
Realistically, Keith is aware that the Atlas would likely let her Captain into any quarters he should choose to enter, but such a prominent display of trust should be obvious to even the least observant humans. His chosen human seems to understand the gravity of the permission, still smiling as he waves Keith into his quarters – allowing Keith to prove his trust yet again by baring his back to the Captain.
The lights are helpfully dimmed to accommodate for Keith's sensitive eyes, much like Shiro keeps his office now just in case Keith stops by to visit. Matt has helpfully informed him that the humans call this 'mood lighting' in an effort to ensure that their fragile psyches are kept in the positive range of emotions.
“Thank you for accompanying me, Shiro.” Keith nods at him as he taps his chest twice before gesturing around his quarters. “As you can see, I have recreated your human mood lighting for our meal. It is my sincere hope that you will find my sustenance acceptable this evening.”
“Oh!” The Captain flusters, his hand flapping as Keith makes his way toward the kitchen. “I'm sure it's going to be leagues better than my cooking, Keith... don't worry about trying to impress me.”
Keith wasn't worried. He has heard of the Captain's prolonged banishment from the culinary facilities, certainly the average kit could best him in this trial... but that does not mean that he is not interested in wooing the Captain in this way.
After all, Matt's suggestion of the best way to a human's heart being through the stomach was not intended to be an anatomically inaccurate tip for swift organ removal.
Apparently.
Regardless, he has stockpiled enough meat to feed a small contingent of blades, gathered with the help of Madam Colleen and the friendly yellow cadet. With any luck the array of instructions and seasonings have come together properly into edible form and the Captain will be courted. Most of the work had been completed the night before when Keith had felt particularly sure of his chances of success in luring the Captain into his quarters – and with good reason now. The 'meat loaf', aptly named, has already been molded into its proper 'loaf' form... though Keith had found the shape uninspiring and had taken the liberties of adding a few Galra flourishes to the meal. If his planning has been correct thus far, and it almost assuredly has, he should only need to turn on his oven and wait for a few minutes to insert the loaf... and then wait longer.
Human sustenance takes an inordinately long time to prepare for something they devour like starving hounds, but they cling to their traditional methods as many fledgling star-faring races do. The yellow cadet had been aghast at his suggestion that he use the auto-processor to create tonight's meal, and had insisted that Keith manually mold the loaf with his bare hands. It must be as close as the humans get to providing the meat themselves, since he is fairly certain that none of the ship's crew stalked this savage cow through the grasslands themselves.
Keith had offered to find and defeat the cow in honorable combat himself, but Matt had insisted that the humans consider that to be for even more primitive cultures. Personally, he has a hunch that the savage cow could defeat most of the crew in single combat, given the lack of physical prowess he has witnessed thus far.
Regardless of how his modified loaf has been acquired, it will soon be in his primitive oven just the same. The Captain is a patient man, cheerfully settling onto the couch as Keith sets the timer.
“There.” Keith nods once before turning to the living room with a triumphant grin. “Our sustenance will be consumable in approximately forty of your earth doboshes.”
“Can't wait.” Shiro grins and pats the cushion beside him. “How would you like to kill the hour?”
Keith pauses mid-reach for a set of glasses, intent on getting them some of the human's weak fermented fruit juice while they wait, but if the Captain wants to engage in combat that may be unwise...
He lets his hand stray toward the knife at the small of his black. “What needs killing?”
“Oh! Oh, no.... it's just a figure of speech,” Shiro laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck as his cheeks heat. “I meant um, what would you like to do while we wait?”
“I had intended for us to ingest your fermented juice,” Keith admits, pulling the bottle he had acquired from under the counter. “I was told that humans enjoyed drinking the deep colored liquid with animal flesh.”
It's a bit grisly of them, considering the liquid appears to be a symbolic tribute of the spilled blood... and tastes both sweet and like soil depending on the fermentation, but Keith has been to many worlds and seen many strange customs... this is one of the least objectionable thus far.
“Oh, you got us a bottle of wine!” Shiro's cheeks glow even brighter as he beams at Keith. “Gee, Keith... this is awfully romantic.”
“Yes,” Keith agrees as he pours two glasses and strides over to the couch, attempting to convey his sincerity and intent through intense eye contact, “I understand that romance is integral to the human courting process... as is sustenance.”
“C-courting?” The glass that Shiro accepts almost bobbles as he looks up at Keith wide-eyed. “I mean, um... I didn't want to assume, but-”
“Was the sealing ritual not considered a courting action?” Keith asks, faltering a little as he takes a step back, “I was under the impression that it was considered a 'kiss' – a tasting of human pheromones...” He can tell his ears have begun to droop, even as he presses his lips thin and squares up to look the Captain in the eyes. “Perhaps I have misinterpreted, and our pheromones were not compatible... rest assured, Captain, the loaf will have no further intentions.”
“No, wait... what?” Shiro shakes his head and puts the glass down, waving Keith back over to sit next to him. “Hang on, I think we're a little mixed up here.”
Keith is no coward, so he joins the Captain on the couch despite the fleeting wish that he could join the loaf in the oven. “What is mixed, Captain?”
“I... you don't have to call me Captain again, really-”
He can feel his ears flattening, a dead giveaway of his discomfort that Kolivan would call him on were he here to see Keith's ambassadorial failings.
“It is no hardship, Captain.” Keith inclines his head in respect. “I am afraid I have become too familiar and have overstepped my boundaries as liaison, perhaps a reminder of your station would be helpful in avoiding further missteps.”
Shiro's frown only deepens, cementing the failure. “Keith, wait... there's no misstep, I was just surprised you would take the initiative here.”
“I am uncertain of your meaning.”
Shiro drags a hand through his hair with a grimace before turning to plant a hand on Keith's knee. “Yes. Kissing is a human uh... courtship... thing... I just didn't know you knew that, so I didn't think it counted.”
“I was informed after the fact,” Keith admits with a human shrug – their universal sign of equivocation. “I have been operating on intelligence that suggested you would not have let the sealing continue were you not interested... but I realize that humans do many things without apparent thought or reasoning.”
“Well, yes... but I was fine with it,” Shiro insists, scooting a bit closer until he's nearly all that Keith can smell – well within gutting range. “Especially since we're uh, well... not engaged engaged, but, you know...”
“I do not.” His ears are to his skull now, and he can hardly contain his disappointment that the Captain does not consider his offer for engagement to be genuine. Perhaps the jewel had not been impressive enough. “Though, I would request that any breaking of engagement ties be purely personal – the Coalition and the Blades have been fine allies, and I do not wish-”
“Wait, no-” Shiro's expression only grows more horrified as he shakes his head. “Oh this is all wrong... Keith...” he grimaces hard before pulling the chain and ring from his shirt, “to humans this is a, um, a courtship gift already... like, a big courtship gift.”
“...I see.”
He doesn't, and it explains even less.
Thankfully, the Captain is perceptive.
“Human engagement isn't like Galra engagement, Keith... it's like... like the last step before your bonding ritual.”
“Oh.”
That he can understand, unfortunately. It's a wonder the Captain hadn't sent him from his quarters immediately that day... and surely Matt would have warned him had he known enough about courting to do so.
“Yeah.” Shiro's chuckle is a weak thing, though he hasn't let go of Keith's knee. “So, I mean, the wine and the dinner isn't a problem if they have intent... I just thought maybe, uh... well... I mean, it's nice to get to know you before we do that.”
Keith can only blink at him and wonder if the Captain had already been affected by the fermented fruit drink.
“Are you not rejecting the courtship then? I assure you it would cause no diplomatic incident, I am merely a Blade and not an important delegate of the-”
“Keith, you're important to me.” Shiro insists, closer even still as he leans into Keith's space. “I didn't want to assume anything, since you may not have known what you were asking... but I wouldn't mind pursuing whatever you had in mind.”
“I do not wish to give pursuit to anything at the moment, Captain,” Keith assures him, resting his own hand on top of Shiro's, “I am content to remain here with our loaf and fermented fruit... and perhaps continue the courting, should you be amenable.”
“Never more in my life.” Shiro makes a strange motion across his chest, perhaps in a terrible imitation of the Blade's sworn oath, and it is hopelessly endearing. “But uh... maybe from here on let's make sure we're understanding each other clearly?”
“I agree.” Keith nods as vigorously as he can without upending his glass. His translator has been terribly inaccurate lately, and it has been nothing but a headache since he's landed. “I wish to do nothing but 'woo' you, as the humans say... and perhaps eventually complete the engagement that you have spoken of.”
“Oh!” Shiro's face blooms brilliantly as he tangles his fingers with Keith's – which does not seem like a grappling move given the circumstances. “That's maybe a little early... but the wooing sounds nice.”
“Then we will engage in the loaf... with intent.” Keith nods, feeling quite pleased with himself that his night has gone according to plan after all. “Now, please drink your fermented fruit juice so that I may woo you.”
Shiro does as he's told, plucking his glass back up and taking a few big gulps before aiming a red-lipped grin Keith's way, like a kit waiting for approval.
Keith leans in to lick away the excess from the corner of his mouth, smacking his lips as he assesses the flavor. “I believe your glass is sweeter.”
“Guh-”
“Do not worry, you may keep it.” He squeezes Shiro's fingers before rising to his feet. “We Galra prefer the tart and savory range of flavors... such as the loaf.”
The loaf that he needs to check on, if the yellow cadet was to be trusted. The Captain follows him into the kitchen, trailing behind Keith with an absent smile as he opens the oven and squints inside.
“I am unsure of your loaf assessment benchmarks,” he admits with another shrug, “though it appears to be... loaf colored?”
“I think you can stick a thermometer in it?” Shiro shrugs back at him, then steps over to the counter to rummage around in Keith's cutlery drawer. “It should be about... maybe one sixty if it's meat?”
The silver stick he pulls out has numbers on it – though it is unclear what it measures. He plucks it from the Captain's grasp and stabs it into the loaf all the same, watching as the numbers climb in response.
“Is that enough?”
“Maybe?” Shiro squints at the silver stick. “I think it should be fine... it won't give us food poisoning at least.”
That does not sound promising... but Keith is also fairly certain that Galra are immune to such frivolous human ailments, so if the Captain is willing to take the risk he is as well.
The loaf comes out with a flourish, visible in its full glory under the kitchen lights. Judging by the wordless exclamation, Shiro appreciates his wooing efforts.
“Keith! Is that a cat?” Shiro asks as he leans in close, one finger poised to touch the ears Keith had carefully molded onto the loaf. “Look at its little teeth!”
“It is a tiger,” Keith explains, pointing at the stripes of seasoning down the back and sides, “one of your fearsome earth beasts, since your people do not appreciate the slaying of wild creatures as a feat of strength in courtship.”
“Generally not,” Shiro agrees, mesmerized by the little paws tucked under the tiger's loaf-y face, “but if I ever need to move a couch or something I'll give you a call and you can prove it then.”
Keith can't help but puff himself up to preen. He can surely move a simple earth couch for the Captain... perhaps he could even move the couch with the Captain still on it. He will have to ask Matt the logistics and timeline of couch movement and perhaps surprise the Captain with his feats. For now though, the loaf must suffice as proof of his dedication to wooing.
“I hope you will find him as enjoyable to eat as to witness.”
“He looks great Keith, really.” Shiro glances up from the loaf with a smile so innocent and boyish that Keith's heart clenches for a moment, and all thoughts of rank and propriety are whisked away by his charm. “I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me.”
“Shiro...” The name tastes like fresh fruit on his tongue, like an earth spring day, like every good thing this planet has to offer. “Shiro, there is no amount of trouble that I would not go to for you. Even if you were not the most handsome of your species, and the kindest, I would be entranced by you. It is an honor to know you, and a greater one to court you.”
“I – Keith!” Shiro exclaims, his cheeks burning as brightly as the fermented juice that he's left on the table, “oh wow, that's a lot... but not in a bad way!” He drags a hand through his hair before stepping so close that Keith can feel the heat radiating from him. “You are just so... can I kiss you again?”
“Please.”
The word is barely off his tongue before one strong hand curls around his waist and the other cradles his jaw, tipping his chin up as the Captain lays his claim. It's such a lovely moment that Keith can't even resent the too-sweet juice on his tongue, not when it comes with the gentle sigh of breath through his lips, like Shiro has been thinking about this moment as long as he has.
Before he knows it, he's pressed against the counter, crowded in beside the little tiger loaf that watches on as his spine and legs turn to jelly under Shiro's gentle ministrations. The purr kicks up in his chest without a second thought as the fingers by his ears curl in to scritch.
“I've wanted to do this for so long,” Shiro murmurs against his lips as he pulls back to smile at Keith's lax expression and twitching ears. “You have no idea how fucking cute you are.”
“I too have been anticipating our courting,” Keith agrees, breathless as he smooths his hands down Shiro's broad chest. “Though I must protest that you are the ideal mate.”
He squeezes the thick muscle beneath his hands for emphasis, drawing groan from Shiro as he rolls their hips together.
“Maybe we should slow it down,” Shiro suggests while not doing so, “you worked awfully hard on dinner.”
“The loaf beast should rest for a time, according to your yellow friend,” Keith offers, sinking his fang into his lower lip in the manner that he has become aware is considered 'coy' by the humans. “Perhaps we should become more familiar with couches, so that I may impress you later when I move yours.”
Shiro groans again and hoists Keith up, drawing his legs around his waist as he walks them back into the living room. Keith can't help but grin as he's pressed into the cushions, certain that he will soon learn their secrets via osmosis.
The fermented juice on the table lies forgotten, and the loaf beast gets more rest than the average cadet.
Perhaps the humans are onto something with their courting... even if their engagements make no sense.