#otasucc

Maybe it’s the captivity, maybe it’s the now multiple years of space goo. Something has warped Shiro’s taste buds into something unholy. Destroyed, only accepting the worst, most egregious tastes. Gone are the days of sharing a burger or spaghetti with Shiro. In are the days he watches his boyfriend mix together disgusting ingredients, then have the nerve to eat them and say they’re delicious. Any time Shiro offers him some concoction he’s made, Keith no longer tries it. He made that mistake once, he won’t do it again. It turns out one of the things Shiro’s grown into loving is Hot Cheetohs.

The smell alone makes Keith’s stomach tumble nauseatingly. The first thing Shiro put together when they got their hands on a bag was the cheetohs mixed together with melted marshmallows in a sort of sweet casserole.

It was disgusting.

He ate a few bites and smiled, but fed the rest of his plate to Cosmo when Shiro turned his back to them. (Cosmo also seemed to only tolerate it. They share this pain.)

He isn’t expecting to come home and smell it, though he should by this point. Opening the door and being hit in the face by a wave of hot cheetoh stink. He groans as he sets his bag by the door, ignoring the whines from the wolf poofing to him immediately. He whispers quiet placations to her - <i>I know, I know, I smell it</i> - and makes his way to the source.

The kitchen door is wide open, and there Shiro is. Back to him, white hair still shining like starlight, all muscle and tanktop and scars and absolutely mixing something together where Keith can’t see. He can hear something on the stove, something moist being stirred. He already has a bad feeling about this. Even when Shiro turns and flashes him that beautiful smile that Keith would fight a million warships to see on his face, that sends that warmth down to his bones. It’s an ill omen in this one, very specific, very private instance.

“Hey, Keith! You’re back early. I was trying to have this finished before you got here.”

Keith is trying to look at the bowl he’s stirring, where more and more of the smell is coming from. “Yeah, uh. Finished the meeting early, so came back.” He schools his face into the best nonchalant, uninterested expression he can manage while trying to ignore the smell. “What’ve you… got going there?”

Shiro’s face lights up and that’s the only reason Keith tolerates this. Seeing him so happy and excited like this. It’s <i>almost</i> worth the pile of orange and yellow mush in the pot he’s working in.

“Mac and cheese and hot cheetohs.”

Keith can practically feel the blood rushing out of his face.

“I read about it online, thought I’d give it a try. Did you wanna try some with me?”

Shiro’s absolute dedication to being positive and trying new things enthusiastically is an admirable quality for most things. Just not this. This is the test of their love, the true moment Keith has to put aside his wishes and do something small to make Shiro happy.

“Sure.”

He decided to grab a few more hours of sleep, though it was harder without the warm weight of Keith at his side. He let himself have a lazy morning, reading a few chapters of his favorite book while he sipped at his tea on the back porch. Around midday he decided to do something productive, something that would be nice for Keith to come home to.

They'd been meaning to clean out the garage for weeks, monsoon season was quickly approaching and there still wasn't quite enough room for Keith's hoverbike. It was the perfect project to keep him busy for the afternoon.

It was amazing to him how much clutter two people so used to having only the clothes on their backs could collect in just a few years. Shiro made lightly organized piles of junk to sort through before tackling the large set of shelves in the corner where Keith stored all his tools. In general, Keith was tidy and orderly, but he'd left a wrench here or a socket there, so Shiro gathered them up to put them back in their places.

He paused as he opened the third drawer. A small black box sat at the bottom of it, unobscured. Shiro grinned as he dropped the hex keys in his hand and picked up the box instead. Just as he'd thought, there was a ring inside.

It looked like it was made in tungsten and Shiro had to smile at Keith's thoughtfulness. He would know that Shiro would want something sturdy, something that wouldn't break or scratch. He held up the shiny dark gray ring to the light to see the inscription. As many times as it takes.

Shiro swallowed back the lump in his throat. It taken years for him to admit how much those words had meant to him at the time, and Keith had acted like it was nothing. As though, “of course I'll always be there to save you, how could I not be,” was just a given. He smiled as he slipped the ring on- it was a perfect fit.

..

Keith opened the garage door and smiled as he saw the neat stack of broken down cardboard boxes in the recycling, the freshly hung kayaks on the wall, the tidied shelves. He pulled his bike into the now clean spot just big enough for it to fit.

He hung his helmet up on the hook just inside the door as he walked in. “Shiro? Thanks for cleaning out the garage!” He called as he headed for the bedroom to change.

He found Shiro in the kitchen when he was finished and pressed a kiss to his cheek in greeting. Shiro turned and caught his lips playfully. “How was work?” He asked fondly, stir fry suddenly forgotten in favor of staring at Keith.

Keith laughed and turned the burner off. “It was fine. How was not work?” Shiro grinned at him as Keith grabbed a pair of bowls from the cabinet. “What?” Keith asked, setting them down on the counter before moving to sling his arms around Shiro's shoulders. “You're being weird.” He accused teasingly.

“I love you.” Shiro replied, leaning down to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around Keith's waist to pull him closer.

Keith chuckled into the kiss. “I love you, too. Even though you're being super weird.” He piled both bowls high with the slightly undercooked food. It was better than Shiro's other setting, which was burnt to charcoal. Shiro grabbed them each a glass of water and headed to the table. He handed Keith’s glass over very slowly and exaggeratedly with his left hand. Keith shook his head but didn't ask.

He glanced across the table at Shiro as they ate and smiled. It was nice having a quiet, home cooked meal together. He frowned a little as he saw a glint of light reflected off of Shiro's left hand. His not-usually-metallic left hand. His eyes widened when he spotted the ring. “What… what is that?” He asked, blood running cold.

Shiro grinned. “Oh, you know, I was cleaning up your work bench and saw it. Excellent choice, by the way.” He held his hand up and smiled at it. “Exactly what I would have picked out myself. I love the inscription, that was a good touch.” He reached across the table and grabbed Keith's hand, squeezing it lightly. “The receipt was almost a year old, though, I hope you didn't change your mind.” His smile was bright and the hints of blue in his steel gray eyes sparkled with fondness.

Keith looked down at Shiro's hand wrapped around his in shock. He’d been trying for months to come up with the perfect proposal but he hadn't been able to come up with anything concrete.

Now it looked like he didn't have to. “I…” he couldn't make himself look away from the glittering band on Shiro's finger. “No, of course not!” He finally blurted out, wrenching his eyes to Shiro's face and his body from the chair.

He was in front of Shiro in a flash, years of peace had done little to dull his skills or his reflexes. Shiro turned slowly to smile at him. Keith wasn't sure exactly what his face was doing, the thudding in his heart was taking all his attention. He knelt down on the spot, crouched between Shiro's legs in their small kitchen.

Keith reached for Shiro's hand at the same time Shiro started lowering it and they met in the middle. “It… it looks good on you.” Keith whispered out quietly.

Shiro smiled again. “It does. You did great, Keith.”

Keith swallowed and licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, before looking up. “Shiro, will you… will you marry me?” The earnest, worried tone in voice and the serious and determined expression on his face made Shiro laugh.

“Of course.” He cupped Keith's face in his hands and leaned down to press their lips together. “Of course I will, Keith.”