Thread by @keefsimp

#sheith our flag means death au where stifled repressed gay nobleman Shiro leaves his life behind for the open seas where he meets a tattooed leather clad pirate with flowing black hair, fingerless gloves and a deadly grin, and he feels alive for the first time in years

when shiro is stabbed by spanish soldiers, keith is there at his sickbed, listening to him mumble about his old life in dreams while stroking his silver hair, leather and callused knuckles sweetly moving over his forehead

when shiro shows keith the secret passage into his closet, keith’s smile is bright, not deadly, for the first time in years. he thinks he might be in love

when keith confesses that he himself is the legendary pirate, shiro’s eyes go wide with shock. keith just smirks and shushes him, as if it’s a secret for them alone

“Well, Takashi Shirogane, maybe you can teach me how to be a nobleman, and I can teach you how to be a bloodthirsty pirate.” His smirk is deadly, lovely in the moonlight. Shiro isn’t sure how this man could possibly want anything from him. But he smiles and says, “We have a deal”

Shiro thinks he might be in over his head when he sees Keith dressed in purple finery, his long hair tied back in a violet ribbon with flowers threaded through the braid.

He is graceful, beautiful, but when Shiro looks at him, there is still an untamed wildness tucked beneath the ruffles and velvet, like a shark just beneath the waves. Looking at him, Shiro feels as if he‘a drifting on a storm-tossed ocean. And he wants to drown.

Keith’s eyes cut across the party as if he’s stepping into battle. “How do I win?” he whispers. Keith will do great, Shiro thinks. He’s already won him. Instead he says, “You’re charming, Keith. Charm them. I know you’ll be great.”

Shiro thinks he’s imagining it when he sees Keith’s cheeks flush. It must be the heat. Then Keith smiles and says, “You think if I tell them how many men I’ve decapitated they’ll find me charming?” Shiro nearly chokes. “No! No,” he sputters. Definitely don’t say that.

Just follow my lead, okay?” Keith raises a brow at him and Shiro can’t help stare for a moment. But then Keith nods his acquiescence. “Alright, Shiro. I trust you.” Trust. Shiro thinks his heart just combusted.

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, the host and hostess are there to greet them. “You cannot be Sir Geoffrey Thornrose? THE Geoffrey Thornrose? Geoffrey Thornrose the famed phrenologist?” the hostess exclaims, amid Shiro’s repeated assent.

“Are you deaf?” drawls Keith. Shiro has to hide his laughter beneath a cough. “You must perform for us in the parlor,” says the host. Shiro turns to Keith, a question in his eyes. Keith smirks. “Lead the way, Sir Thornrose,” he says. Shiro can’t stop smiling.

This is a whole new level of bullshitting, Shiro thinks, his hands on either side of the hostess’s head as he pretends to palpitate her. “I sense you are of Dutch descent?” It’s a stab in the dark, but the crowd oohs and ahhs so he must be doing something right.

“I’m Prussian,” says the hostess. Shiro balks at his mistake, then chokes as Keith declares, “I killed a Prussian once.” All eyes turn to Keith, but Keith looks to Shiro. Shiro shakes his head, silently pleading with Keith to stop.

“Um,” Keith hesitates. “It was in self defense. Sometimes stabbing a man is the quickest way to exit a conversation.” Shiro closes his eyes. We’re done for, he thinks. But then the room explodes with laughter. “This man is hilarious!” they exclaim.

And then they’re surrounding Keith, pounding him on the shoulder. He looks mildly surprised but then he catches Shiro’s eye and grins. Shiro smiles back, even as his heart sags a little. Looks like Keith didn’t need his help after all.

Shiro disappears, and Keith is left alone to drink and dance with the nobles. He’s having the time of his life, until they sit down to dinner and Keith realizes he’s forgotten all of the dining rules Shiro taught him.

He stares at the empty chair next to him, at the name tag indicating where Shiro should be. He feels empty all of a sudden.

When he hammers at his shrimp, they laugh at him. And suddenly, Keith isn’t empty anymore. He’s filled with rage. If he doesn’t leave this dining room right now, he’s going to kill someone. As he leaves, he looks back at the snail fork. It would have been fun to kill with it

Shiro is sitting alone outside when he hears a commotion at the doors. “Get the fuck out of my way,” Keith growls. Then he’s storming toward Shiro. Shiro barely has the chance to rise before Keith says, “I want to leave. Now.”

That wildness that was barely contained by the finery is fully loosed now. Keith is flushed and his violet eyes promise death. “Keith,” Shiro says. “What happened?” “I used a fucking hammer to eat shrimp, that’s what happened. And they laughed.

No one fucking laughs at me. I’m fucking Blackblade.” Then he pulls a dagger from his coat pocket. “I’m going to fucking kill someone,” he growls.

Shiro barely knows what he’s doing before his hands are moving. “No! No,” he says. And he places his hand over Keith’s where it grips the dagger. Keith freezes but Shiro doesn’t move away. Keith’s murderous eyes flick to him, and then soften.

“Let me deal with it,” Shiro says in his softest voice. “You trust me, don’t you Keith?” Keith’s jaw tightens as he stares at him. The fire in his eyes has not banked. But finally he exhales, and his fingers loosen on the dagger.

“Fine,” he sighs. “But give them a piece of my mind.” Shiro smiles. “I will,” he says. “Maybe I should keep the knife? Until we’re back on our ship?” Keith shakes his head. “I’m keeping the knife. You can have my gun though.”

Shiro splutters, then laughs, helpless. He really shouldn’t think Keith’s murderous instincts are cute, but he does. “Alright,” Shiro says, still laughing. “The gun then.” And if his hand lingers too long on Keith’s as he takes the pistol, well, tonight is all pretend anyway.

Shiro makes Keith promise to wait outside. He knows he won’t listen for long, and Shiro is fine with that. He only needs ten minutes. His gossip is hot, and it won’t take long to have all the nobles in a tizzy as he airs their dirty laundry.

When Keith finds him, the sitting room is literally on fire, and Shiro has spilled only half of the group’s secrets. An illegitimate child, embezzlement, incest, and a pyramid scheme seem to have been enough to ensure nothing noble is going on here anymore.

Keith’s grin is wondrous. “What did you do to them?” He sounds giddy and Shiro cant help but smile. “Passive aggression” he says with a wink. Impossibly,Keith’s smile gets even bigger,crinkling his eyes and making them sparkle. Shiro vows he’ll do anything to see that smile again

Back on Shiro’s ship, Keith stands alone under the moonlight, fiddling with an old scrap of fabric his mother gave him to protect his dagger. He remembers her words. “We’re not like those nobles, Keith. We never will be.” She was right of course. Keith was a fool to pretend.

He hears a creak against the deck, and then Shiro is there. “Sorry about tonight,” Shiro says. Keith almost doesn’t hear him, too absorbed in how the full moon reflects off Shiro’s hair, making him glow like a star. Keith sighs. “It was my fault,” he says.

Shiro’s smile reaches all the way to his eyes, and it pins Keith to the spot. “I think you were amazing,” Shiro says. Keith’s breath is caught in his throat. “That’s a lovely piece of silk you have,” Shiro tells him.

Keith frowns. “This old thing?” “Sometimes the old things are the best things,” Shiro says. “May I?” Keith wordlessly hands him the scrap. Shiro does some fancy twist with his hands, and then he’s stepping into Keith’s space, his hands on Keith’s chest.

Keith doesn’t breathe as Shiro tucks the fabric into his breast pocket, the red scrap bright against the purple of his waistcoat. “There now,” Shiro says, and he gives Keith that beautiful smile again. Keith is caught in his eyes. “It looks great on you.”

“Thanks,” Keith whispers. Shiro still hasn’t moved away. Keith leans in, helpless like the tide drawn toward the moon. Shiro’s eyes widen, and Keith jerks back, stepping away.

“Goodnight,” he manages to choke out. Shiro blinks. “Goodnight, Keith,” he says. And if Keith didn’t want to die already, with the way Shiro says his name, he does now.

They turn away from each other, walking toward their respective cabins. But Keith can’t help it, he turns back for one last look, and finds Shiro already looking at him. He stares, and Shiro gives him a small smile. Keith nods and goes. He feels like he left something behind

Keith closes the door to his cabin and leans back against it, shutting his eyes. Keith has always known that he likes men, in an aesthetic way, but he has never /wanted/ like this before. He wants to kiss Shiro. He nearly did kiss Shiro. Keith is in trouble.

Shiro is a nobleman. He likely has a wife. Keith has no idea why Shiro packed his bags to try his hand at piracy, but he knows Shiro whispered a woman's name while recovering from near-death at the hands of the Spanish. Allura, Keith remembers. It is a beautiful name.

Keith should not fall for Shiro. He knows it will bring him pain, and yet he already knows it is too late. Keith, who has never desired a kiss in his life until now cannot extricate himself from what he has begun to feel.

He won't be able to sleep, he knows. Not until he tires himself out. So he strips out of the fancy clothes and laces himself back into his leather breeches. He doesn't bother with a shirt or shoes - he will be sweaty soon enough.

He keeps the braid, leaving the purple ribbon and flowers untouched, not ready to let the night go just yet. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, he picks up his cutlass, and does battle with his reflection.

Keith has been drilling for barely ten minutes when a knock sounds at his door. Certain it is his first mate, Sharpshoot Lance, he doesn't bother to answer it and yells for him to come inside.

There comes a soft gasp from the doorway and Keith turns. It is not Lance. It is Shiro. His mouth has dropped open, and Keith can't be certain in the candlelight, but he thinks Shiro might be blushing. His eyes are on Keith's chest.

Keith looks down at himself - at his sweat-coated skin, tattoos and scars on display. He is as far from a nobleman as one can get. Gritting his teeth, he clears his throat and looks up. "I can uh, put on a shirt. Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Shiro takes a breath that sounds more like a wheeze. Keith is about to ask him if he's okay when Shiro says, "It's fine. I can go, if you're busy." He starts to turn away. It would perhaps be more proper for Shiro to go. Keith doesn't know. What he does know is that he is selfish

He wants Shiro to stay. "No," he says, "stay. Your company is much better than swordplay with a mirror." He shoots Shiro a grin and the man relaxes visibly. Keith sees him swallow, throat bobbing in the soft light playing over his neck. Keith should look away. He doesn't.

Shiro clears his throat. "I um, wanted to see if you wanted help taking the flowers out of your hair." Oh, Keith thinks. Oh this is dangerous. But Keith's entire life is dangerous. He has never backed down before and he won't start now. Not with this. Never with this.

So Keith smiles. "That's kind of you, thank you." He walks to the bench, and sheaths his blade. Shiro is still standing by the door. Keith frowns. "I can put on a shirt, if that would make you more comfortable?"

"No, no!" Shiro says, hands rising to ward of Keith's suggestion. Then his eyes widen, as if realizing something. "I mean, unless you want to. That's fine. Whatever you want, Keith." Keith laughs. Shiro is really cute when he's flustered.

Keith wants to see just how flustered he can get. He sits,straddling the bench so he's facing Shiro and leans back on his hands. He's pretty sure Shiro was staring at his chest earlier. Keith wants to see if he'll do it again. "I'll stay like this if you don't mind.I'm a bit hot"

Shiro lets out another soft wheeze and Keith grins wickedly. Shiro's eyes trace his body as if he can't help himself, flickering over his tattooed arms, his scarred chest, all the way to the trail of hair beneath his navel and the lacings at the front os his pants.

Keith has never felt so powerful. Shiro licks his lips and then his eyes go wide. He jerks his head up, locking eyes with Keith. He looks mortified and Keith can't hold back his laughter. He throws his head back and laughs.

When he looks back at Shiro, he smiles fondly and pats the bench beside him. "Come sit, Captain." Shiro presses his hands to his cheeks and sighs, then he walks to Keith, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the floor. Keith wants to tase him some more, but he relents.

He knows he can be a menace and Shiro has had enough for now. Shiro sits, still not looking at him, so Keith spins around, presenting Shiro with his back. The man deserves a break. "Thank you," Keith says. "Not just for offering to help with my hair, but for everything else too."

Shiro is quiet for a moment, and then he feels his fingers brushing against his back. Reaching for the ribbon. It's all Keith can do to hold back a shudder. "You're welcome, Keith," Shiro says in a soft voice. "I'm glad I could help."

Keith feels a tug, and then his braid is loose, the silk of the ribbon caressing his spine on the way down. And then Shiro's hands are in his hair, slowly unwinding the braid and gently dragging the flowers out so they do not catch in Keith's hair.

Keith sighs and closes his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling. And in the quiet, Keith lets himself hope. It's possible, of course, that Shiro hasn't seen many men shirtless and so reacted the way he did. But it could, maybe, mean something else. That Shiro finds Keith attractive.

The thought, combined with Shiro's gentle fingers has Keith letting out a sound that's something like a purr. Shiro freezes. Keith hates himself for ruining the moment. "Sorry," he says. "Just feels so good."

"Oh," Shiro says. His hands start moving again. "I'm glad you like it." Shiro seems inclined to stop talking, but Keith doesn't want the silence, not anymore. So he says, "You seem kind of familiar with long hair. What you're doing, it doesn't hurt at all.Where did you learn it?"

Shiro huffs behind him. Keith thinks it sounds like he's smiling. "I um, have a daughter," he says. "Oh," Keith breathes. A more serious topic than he planned for, but strangely Keith doesn't want to stop. Even if it hurts, he wants to know about Shiro's life before.

"What's her name?" Keith asks. "Melenor," Shiro says. Keith can't help but ask, "Do you miss her?" "Yeah, I do," Shiro says. "I actually used to play pirate adventure with her and her brother Alfie. They loved it. I did too."

"This might be too much but, is your family still alive?" Keith asks. "Yes. Yeah, they are. Or at least, they were when I left. I can't imagine anything has happened to them since," Shiro replies. "Oh," says Keith. "Do you regret leaving?"

Shiro is silent for a moment, and Keith fears he's gone too far. But then Shiro says, "No. I don't. I wasn't happy, and neither was my wife, Allura. I left so that we both could try to find happiness in our own way. The kids...well. I hope Allura can find someone new.

Someone who wants that life. A life with a wife and children. Someone to love all three of them the way they need. I love them, but I just didn't want to pretend anymore. It felt like being shackled to a life I didn't want."

Keith hums. This is the most Shiro has ever said to him. Keith feels privileged to be the one that Shiro is unburdening himself to. "I know a bit about that," Keith says. "Being shacked to what you don't want." "And what is it you don't want, Keith?" Shiro asks him.

Keith lets out a rueful laugh. "Oh, just the pirate's life. The pirate's life is the life for me, they say. It used to be, but it isn't anymore. I'm bored. And I shouldn't be bored, I'm fucking Blackblade.But my presence doesn't matter anymore.

People see my flag and they just surrender. No more fighting. No more thrill of battle. I don't even have to be on the ship. The flag does it all for me. But I can't see a way out, other than faking my own death. I admire you, Shiro. You were brave to leave.

You fought for the life you wanted. I don't know what I want. And I don't know what kind of life I'd take up if I did get free. That's why I wanted you to teach me, you know? You're interesting. I haven't had this much fun at sea in years.

And I thought, maybe, if I could learn from you, if you could teach me manners, maybe I could buy some land and retire. I'm fucking rich. But that shit with those French pomps? I hated that. The noble life isn't for me either it seems."

He turns his head to look at Shiro over his shoulder and smiles. "But at least I have you now. I will eventually have to reckon with my life as Blackblade, and my life as Keith, but I don't have to do it right now. As long as you're my partner, I'll never be bored."

After a declaration like that, Keith should feel exposed, he really should. But he doesn't. He feels light. Unburdened. He looks at Shiro, still smiling, and Shiro looks like he did earlier - mouth open, cheeks flushed red.

This close, Keith can see that the blush extends to his ears and down his chest, disappearing into his loose white shirt. It's fucking gorgeous. Keith wants to kiss him again. One of Shiro's hands is on his shoulder, likely pushed there from Keith's back when he turned.

Keith's hair is completely loose now, the braid all unraveled. Shiro's hand doesn't have to be there, but it is, and Keith feels a fiery thrill overtake him at the touch. He feels a primal urge, like he did at the party when he was seconds from killing someone.

Only this time, the urge is to kiss, not to kill. But he can't. He can't. Earlier in the night, when he'd leaned toward Shiro beneath the moon, Shiro's eyes had gone wide. Keith can't scare him away. Not tonight, when they have spoken like true friends.

So instead of leaning back toward Shiro again, Keith leans forward and turns so that he is once again facing Shiro on the bench. He shakes out his hair behind him and leans back on his hands like before. He throws Shiro a grin. "Thank you," he says. "That was relaxing."

Shiro seems to find his voice again. "Oh, oh yeah, Keith. It was no problem. I'm happy to help. And um, I like being your partner, too." He smiles, and it's the sweetest thing Keith's ever seen. "I uh, I guess I should let you get to bed," Shiro says.

Keith feels wide awake, but he nods. Keith is at his limit, and if Shiro stays much longer, Keith really will kiss him. "Alright, Captain," he says, swinging his leg over the bench and rising to his feet. He extends a hand to Shiro, palm up.

"Allow a gentleman to lead you to the door?" he teases. Shiro laughs and takes his hand. "You flatter me with your attention, good sir." Keith attempts to keep a straight face as he pulls Shiro to his feet, but he is too smitten.

He lets the charade go and grins, wide and bright and wild. Shiro's breath catches, and Keith can't resist one last tease. He walks backwards toward the door, never letting go of Shiro's hand.

He reaches out, dragging the door open, and then he leans forward, placing a kiss on the back of Shiro's palm. Then he looks up, mouth still whispering against Shiro's skin and says, "Goodnight, Captain."

Shiro's broad chest rises and falls in a powerful breath, and his eyes never leave Keith's as he straightens. Keith moves to wave his hand toward the door in a final flourish, when Shiro pulls him into a hug.

Keith gasps. It is warm and unexpected and he feels his heart squeeze in his chest. Shiro's head is buried in Keith's shoulder, and Keith feels it against his throat when Shiro whispers, "Goodnight, Keith." Keith really does shiver this time.

It's a taste of his own medicine, and he fucking loves it. Keith strokes a hand down Shiro's back as Shiro pulls away. He gives Keith one last smile, and then he is gone. Keith watches him walk across the deck, and when he's safely inside his own quarters, he closes the door.

Keith presses his back to the wood and sinks toward the floor. Dangerous. So dangerous, the game they're playing. But Keith can never get enough of the thrill. He smiles into his hand and whispers a name. Takashi.

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When Shiro wakes the next day, he immediately goes in search of Keith, and yet he can’t find him anywhere. Which is a little concerning, as they are on a ship at sea and there are really only so many places Keith could be.

What if he fell overboard? screams Shiro’s anxious conscience. What if someone killed him, eager to take credit for besting the infamous Blackblade? Shiro feels his pulse spike and closes his eyes. He takes a deep, calming breath.

Keith would not have fallen overboard, Shiro reasons. He’s been pirating for at least ten years, Shiro thinks. Maybe longer. As for killing him, the chances are slim. He saw Keith training in the mirror, and he knows a man would have to be exceptional to get the drop on Keith.

Not dead then, Shiro firmly tells himself. Not likely anyway. But that leaves Shiro back at square one. Where is Keith? He tilts his head skyward, opening his eyes to plead with god, or the universe when he spies a leather clad leg dangling from the crow’s nest. He grins. Got you

When Shiro heaves himself into the cradle of the crow’s nest, Keith is grinning. It is early yet, the sky still a dusky blue awaiting the sun over the horizon.

It is the color of Keith’s eyes, and the way he looks right now, smiling as if Shiro is the best thing in the world, and the dawn rising behind him - Shiro knows he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

Shiro smiles too. Really, he can’t help it. Keith is different this morning. He is wearing his usual leather britches and boots, but instead of his leather shirt, he’s dressed in a flowing white shirt similar to what Shiro wore into Keith’s quarters last night.

Unlike Shiro, Keith has ripped the sleeves off and has failed to properly lace the front, leaving his tattooed arms and chest on display. Combined with his usual fingerless gloves, and his rebraided hair tangling with his loose shirt-laces, well…it’s devastating.

“Good morning, Keith,” he manages to say. Shiro mentally congratulates himself. He sounded completely normal. Not at all smitten. Not. At. All.

“Good morrow, Takashi Shirogane,” Keith replies. Ah, so he is still in a teasing mood. Staying unattached, Shiro realizes, is a completely lost cause. Shiro looks down to catch his breath, and it’s then he notices that Keith’s hands aren’t empty.

He’s holding his dagger, and what looks like a piece of wood. “Are you whittling?” Shiro asks, looking up. Keith’s smile softens, but even then he still looks like the cat that ate the cream. “I am,” he says, and opens his hand.

“A wolf,” Shiro says, surprised. Keith laughs, full-bellied and rich. “It’s my dog,” he says. Shiro looks up, eyes wide. “You - you have a dog? A dog that looks like a wolf?” “Yeah,” Keith says, fond. “I found him…more like he found me, when I was raiding the French coast.”

He glances at Shiro, and Shiro nods for him to go on. Keith does. “As I said, raiding. It was a coastal town, rich in fur trade. I underestimated how many militia there’d be and got cornered near some cages. I was dodging blades left and right. Would’ve been stabbed. Again.

When this bear of an animal comes flying at the soldiers.” Keith smiles at the memory. “He was ferocious, heedless of their swords. I knew he was mine in that instant. I’d been hit so many times by then, my mouth was filled with blood, but when I caught sight of him,

his mouth was red as mine. He roared at them, all red fangs and black fur. And it was like I was him, and he was me. I roared with him and we made that place a bloodbath.”

“After that, there was no chance I was leaving him behind. I brought him aboard the Red Revenge the same day.” Shiro‘s mouth is hanging open. He has so many questions he doesn’t know where to start. He settles on “How big is he?”

Keith ponders it for a moment, and the cute pout he makes nearly has Shiro forgetting his question. Then Keith says, “He weighs about as much as me.” Shiro gapes again and Keith laughs. “Keith, there’s no way that’s a dog. None. Definitely a wolf.”

Keith smirks at him and raises a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he whispers, and Shiro wants to melt. “If he’s a wolf, he’s just some wild animal my crew can object to. If he’s a dog, that makes him family, and we protect our family, bloodthirsty as we may be.”

Shiro is falling in love with a killer. A pirate with as much blood on his hands as a soldier. If someone had told Shiro he would leave his life to chace piracy and the open sea only to fall in love with its most infamous rogue, he only would have believed the first half.

Funny, how fate turns. “What’s his name,” Shiro asks. Keith shrugs. “He doesn’t have one.” “What?” Shiro squawks. “Keith. Keith. You’re supposed to name your pets. It’s the rule.” He knows he sounds scandalized, perhaps too posh for Keith to be comfortable, but Keith laughs and

Shiro is so relieved. “I didn’t know what to call him,” Keith confesses. “It felt wrong to force a name on an animal like that. Almost like he already had a name and I just had to wait for him to tell me.” Shiro shakes his head, and hey he can’t stop smiling.

How like Keith to respect the animal enough to want him to name himself. “How about this.” Shiro says. “When I meet him, you can tell him it’s time to choose a name, and he can pick any object on the ship, or any name we write down.”

That adorable pout takes over Keith’s face again,and then he raises a brow. “That’s not a bad idea,Shiro.” Keith turns to him, smiling softly. “Where have you been all my life,” he nearly whispers. Then he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, basking like a cat in the sunrise

Shiro is glad Keith has closed his eyes, because he has no control whatsoever over his face right now. How does Keith just…/say/ things like that? Say it and then close his eyes like it’s nothing more than casual conversation. It’s so brave and so true, Shiro’s heart breaks.

How did you become the way you are Keith, he wants to ask. Did the fire in your soul always make you this pure, or did the fire come later and the softness remain? Shiro wants to crawl inside him and plum his every depth, every crack, every fissure.

Shiro’s entire life has been a series of cracks. He cracked when his father told him he was weak. Cracked when his school friends hurt him in the name of teasing. Cracked when he married and knew that Allura, lovely as she was, could never hold his heart.

He cracked and cracked, shoving himself deeper and deeper into a life that did not fit him. Until one day, he broke. He could no longer fit himself inside of his life. Could no longer force himself to. He left in search of gold to mend the broken pieces of his heart.

When Shiro looks at Keith, he knows he’s found it. Kintsugi, it is called. The poetic mend. The idea that a thing is more beautiful after having survived being broken. Shiro has been broken. But Keith, Keith, this firebright boy beside him. He makes Shiro feel whole.

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