Kosmo: Good Dog, Bad Human
Established #sheith, after the war, s8 is garbage, everybody lives, accidentally humanoid Kosmo, probably #nsfw #threadfic
They are escorted directly from their cruiser to the banquet. Keith would have preferred to settle in first, change, stretch out, jog with the space wolf now they are planetside without the Atlas.
But everyone loves them in their uniforms for these things, so Shiro is stunning as The Admiral whilst Keith is wishing he'd grabbed his tunic to go over his Blades suit because the Vruun are looking at him like he's a snack.
"We have arranged delicacies for all three of you, tailored to your needs and tastes," the Vruun says.
"Three of us?" Shiro asks, arching his eyebrow at the ambassador of their newest coalition partner.
"A place has of course been set for the Blue Paladin."
The Vruun gestures to... Kosmo.
Keith bites back a laugh. They don't get The Voltron Show out here and it's not as if every Paladin in history has always been bipedal. Keith nods as Kosmo bumps his hip
"Thank you. We'd be delighted."
So they sit with Kosmo next to Keith, trying not to make eyes at each other as the Vruun deliver long dishes artfully arranged with haute-cuisine tidbits. Each is labelled, but the universal translation scanner on Keith’s PADD doesn’t help much.
“Feel like Alice?” Shiro asks, grinning happily.
“Eat me,” Keith offers, holding out what appears to be a vibrantly pink grape with two fingers.
The grape turns out to be sour with a sensation like popping candy.
Keith can’t stop laughing, but he eats the rest of them.
“Drink me?” Shiro smirks, presenting a glass of sparkling pink something to Keith.
It coats his tongue like cream, but it’s savoury. Keith makes a face.
The banquet goes like that, the pair of them silly and sharing food, Kosmo happily chomping down his fancy multi-coloured appetizers with obvious delight. The link to him in Keith’s mind sparkles with pleasure. He is happy to be included.
As the plates begin to be cleared, Keith ruffles his ears fondly, leaning back into Shiro’s massive chest.
“Maybe we can trick all the new coalition planets into thinking you’re Lance, then we won’t have to put up with him.”
“Keith…” Shiro admonishes him softly. Keith rolls his eyes. Kosmo woofs, a sensation of deep contentment vibrates to Keith from him.
Keith shifts in his seat. He’s hot, he’d like to be wearing fewer clothes, and he wants Shiro to hold him against the nearest flat surface and fuck his brains out.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Their hasty exit is interrupted by the Vruun ambassador, politely enquiring after their enjoyment of the meal. Keith is glad Shiro appears to still be in control of his faculties, because he isn’t.
“Delightful, thank you." Shiro replies. "Everything was lovely.”
“Each dish is carefully crafted to help fulfil your innermost desires. We pride ourselves on our culinary empathy.”
Kosmo barks.
Keith laughs.
The sounds are almost identical.
At least that explains why he’s so horny and so close to flushing purple in public. The Vruun have just spent the evening stoking his thirst for his husband. Keith hopes the bed is sturdy, because they’re going to wreck it.
No one should feel obligated, but I'm just going to drop this here as a reminder it exists and you can throw things at me: https://ko-fi.com/sashadistan 

Keith wakes with a hangover the size of a small moon and screws his eyes shut at the sensation of a finger poking him between the eyebrows.
“Kee. Kee…”
“Fuck off ‘Kashi… I’m dying…”
There is a whine.
Keith feels around the inside of his mouth with his tongue, then wraps his arms tight over Shiro’s around him as he is poked again, more firmly.
Hang on.
He feels with one hand, then the other.
Shiro is spooning him tight, long fingers splayed over his chest and belly, chubbed cock nudging his arse. Everything is as it should be.
So why is he being poked in the face?
Poke. Poke.
Keith opens one eye. Then the other. His head hurts, but no level of hangover encourages this kind of hallucination. The blue rimmed eyes are familiar, the soft grey-black skin is not.
Keith sits up so hard the room spins.
He finds himself csteadied by sure and steady hands, black skinned, warm, safe. He follows the trace blue marking up a pair of humanoid arms to the shock of electric hair. And then Kosmo grins.
Kosmo is human, or at least, humanoid. And his tongue is blue. And apparently glowing.
“How much did I have to drink last night?”
“Kee!” Kosmo hugs him, head butting into his chest in a familiar gesture, long arms wrapping around Keith’s ribs.
Keith moves to ruffle his fur, then stops.
He is naked.
Kosmo is also naked.
Kosmo’s head is very close to his crotch, and it’s the morning. And being fucked into oblivion last night has done nothing to dampen Keith’s morning wood.
Panic pours through him.
Kosmo scrambles away before Keith can push him, and the whimpering howl of loss at the stinging rejection is enough to rouse Shiro from what was apparently a rather good dream.
“Keith… why is Kosmo person-shaped?”
“Unsure. Kos… I’m sorry.” Keith reaches out with his mind to the wolf-not-wolf and finds the link feels just the same as ever. “Sorry buddy.”
“Yeah, c’mere then.”
Kosmo comes to him, head rubbing into his shoulder as though he still has point-tipped ears to scratch, and then he looks at Shiro who is now upright and dragging his hands through his hair. Keith thinks he’s beautiful.
Kosmo launches in a mass of long limbs and blue fluff, hug-tackling Shiro to the ground.
Keith freezes.

Oh shit...
No one has ever left a new coalition planet so quickly or so stealthily, and once back in the cruiser and out of atmo heading back to the Atlas, Keith switches on the autopilot and turns to his husband and their… not currently a wolf.
“Is your name actually Kosmo?” It’s not what Keith planned to say.
Not-space-wolf opens his mouth, shuts it again.
“You can’t say my name with this voice box.” His speech is stilted, unused, adorable. “I like being Kosmo.”
“What’s my name?” Keith points to himself, like an idiot.
Kosmo rolls his eyes, because he agrees.
Keith feels a flicker of happiness in their link. He can’t help but smile. He points to Shiro.
“What’s his name?”
Shiro makes a pained noise.
Kosmo looks upset.
Already Keith misses his easy-to-read body language.
“Kos… he’s Shiro.”
“But you call him ‘baby’!”
“I’m his husband,” Keith doesn’t snap, just. “And I don’t always.”
“Yes you do.”
Keith can feel Shiro watching him, his neck heats up.
“In here.” Kosmo tugs somehow on the link between them, and Keith almost falls from his chair. “In here you do. Every time.”
In the few varga is takes to get back to Atlas, Shiro gets Allura and Coran up on the vid screen and Keith messages Krolia on his PADD, and things start clicking into place.
The Vruun are an empathic people, and very proud of their food.
Quintessence on Vru coalesces into the plant life and can be manipulated through cooking.
They ate the food, food specifically formulated to unlock their desires.
(Hunk hijacks the call to tell them he wants samples sent back to Earth.)
For Keith this was nothing more than an aphrodisiac, because he doesn’t have any secret desires. He wants to not be a solider and to have Shiro, and he’s already sorted both those things.
Hence all the sex.
Shiro’s desires fed off Keith’s.
The stamina to keep up with his half alien husband. Which explains the bruises on Keith’s hips and the four orgasms Shiro filled him with.
And Kosmo…
“You wanted to be a person?”
Kosmo nods.
“But why?”
Kosmo chews his lip then, and Keith knows already the not-wolf has picked up habits from being near him.
“Because it always looks like such fun.”
When they return to Atlas it is to a message from Romelle in the New Altean Library, informing them that the effects of the Vruun food shouldn’t last more than a phoeb.
To Keith, locked in a silent battle of wills with a naked Kosmo who no longer has full body fur and is refusing the consider the option of clothing, this is not welcome news.
//to be cont...
/Kosmo: Good Dog, Bad Human, sheith, cont

“No, Kos. You have to stay here.” Keith frowns at the not-wolf as he finishes his braid. “You can’t come.”
Kosmo growls, it’s sort of adorable coming from a humanoid voice box.
“Why not?”
“You cannot be naked on the bridge.”
“You’re not going to the bridge /all/ day.” Kosmo sulks.
Keith very nearly tears his braid out.
“You cannot be naked anywhere else on the Atlas!”
They have had this conversation – in increasing levels of volume – around and around for the past two quintants. Kosmo refuses to consider wearing clothes, Keith refuses to let him leave their quarters without them.
It’s awkward enough living with Kosmo being permanently naked with just him and Shiro. It’s certainly put the brakes on their sex life.
Keith hasn’t had to hold himself back in bed since he was a Cadet, and he didn’t intend to start again now.
Both he and Shiro still have the effects of the Vruun’s empathic cooking running through them. It’ll last about as long for them as it does for Kosmo, and whilst Keith has got a pretty good handle on his Galra features, he’s never been hornier.
But the result is that Keith also hasn’t left their quarters in two quintants, and if anything he’s more jittery from the inaction than Kosmo is. He gives Kosmo a stern glare.
“Stay. Here.”
“Kee….” this time the whine is faintly distressed, tugging at their bond. Keith feels instantly guilty. After all, Kosmo has been his almost constant companion, fighting partner, and gigantic shadow for most of the past four years.
“Sorry bud.” Keith fits his blade into his belt at the small of his back. “Stay.”

It lasts all of a varga.
Keith is in fact, still on the bridge, standing by Shiro’s shoulder as he commands from the Captain’s chair, most of the bridge crew scrambling to keep up as Atlas adjusts heading and settings to Shiro’s thoughts rather than his words
The main doors whoosh open, the attendant barely gets a syllable out before there is a muffled yelp and both Matt and – a fully nude Kosmo – tumble across the bridge accompanied by a sharp tang of ozone.
“KEITH!” (Matt)
“Kee!” (Kosmo)
“Kos?” (Shiro)
“What the-?” (some random dude on the bridge)
“Oh fuck-” Keith wants to put his head in his hands and hide. But he can’t. “Kosmo!”
“Keith, please kindly explain why your wolf is naked and trying to climb me?!” Matt does nothing but draw attention to the situation. Though in his defence that’s not hard. “KOS! Get off!”
Kosmo goes, shuffling backward in a crouch, moving as though to tuck his tail between his legs.
Half of Keith wants to dissolve with embarrassment, the other half wants to kick Matt for shouting at his friend.
When Kosmo reaches him Keith settles for rubbing over his head with one hand in a familiar gesture. Kosmo whines and presses his face against Keith’s thigh, and Keith feels the twin vibrations of love and unhappiness through their bond.
Shiro is attempting to calm Matt, it’s not going well.
Keith tunes them out.
“Kos, what happened? I told you to stay at home.”
“I was bored.” Kosmo chews his lip with sharp teeth. “I was looking for the little one.”
“You went to Pidge’s lab?”
“They always have fun toys!”
“So why is Matt running away from you?”
Kosmo /feels/ guilty, Keith can sense it in him. He crouches down, and wraps an arm around Kosmo’s shoulder.
“Come on bud, let’s get out of here.”
There is a snap of ozone, and they are gone.
Kosmo delivers them to Keith’s favoured training mat in the gym, and Keith wastes no time in barking all the currant occupants out of the room.
“What happened with Matt?”
“He wouldn’t let me play.”
“With?” Keith feels dread building in the pit of his stomach
“I know what you guys say about him. Since there weren’t any toys I figured he could show me what to do with this body.”
Oh no…
“You went to Matt for sex advice?”
“Baby said I couldn’t ask you!”
Keith outright groans.
“You already asked Shiro for sex advice??”
Keith falls back on his heels, Kosmo copies the pose, and Keith really wants to bleach from his mind the fact that Kosmo is not just blue and glowing inside his mouth. Kosmo frowns down at his erection.
“This did not used to just happen before.”
“You remember what I was saying about clothes, Kos? This is why.”
“But I’m not cold.”
Keith sighs, unwilling to have the same argument all over again.
“Come on bud, let’s run, yeah?”
It’ll do for now.
Kosmo: Good Wolf, Bad Human
#shieth fic, accidental transformation, poss nsfw, mostly just silly.

“Why can’t I just touch what I want?”
“That’s not an answer Kee!”
“You just can’t go around touching people.”
Kosmo sulks.
“People always used to touch me.”
“You used to be a giant space wolf!”
“I still am!”
“People don’t see you that way any more Kosmo.”
“Since when has the way people see /you/ mattered so much?”
Ouch… Keith doesn’t like to admit how well Kosmo can read him, has always read him. He offers his hand out.
“Kos… you can always touch me.”
So Keith ends up with a lapful of cosmic space not-wolf – and Kosmo isn’t a small humanoid by any means – happily ruffling his hair and dragging knuckles over his spine. The bond sparkles with pleasure between them.
Kosmo is holding a fork like it’s a dangerous snake, brow furrowed.
“You know what it is Kos, you see us eat with them all the time.” Keith stabs a chunk of… bright yellow something with his fork and chews with an exaggerated slowness. “Eat.”
Keith has given up on the subject of clothes. Far better to stop Kosmo from trying to rub himself up against people, despite it being a natural instinct he has indulged in for his whole life.
The crew in the mess hall aren’t staring, because Keith would hurt them if he noticed, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t watched. He prods Kosmo in the shoulder – it’s a safe enough spot.
Kosmo looks exactly like a large human-shaped wolf trying to use cutlery for the first time, it’s quietly hilarious. Keith swallows his laugh and takes his wrist, guiding his movements. Kosmo huffs, the softest of growls.
He slurps at the food on his fork with his ridiculously long, glowing blue tongue, seemingly trying to wind it around the utensil.
“Hunting is easier.”
“Next time, Kos. I promise.”
“KEE!” Kosmo’s bark is loud and delighted. The bond between them vibrates with pride and satisfaction.
Keith doesn’t even lift his head from the pillow of Shiro’s shoulder before the shouting starts. He groans.
Paladin movie night. They are parked in orbit around a coalition planet with a variety of on world entertainments and unique habitats. Matt called it a pick’n’mix planet, because of all the different zones.
But the five Paladins, plus Matt, Allura, and Griffin and Regris who’s relationship has been the most unexpected development in recent times are wedged comfortably into their common room with an old Earth movie.
It’s Shiro’s choice, which means Keith has been mostly ignoring the pitched space battles of the crew of the USS Enterprise, dozing on his husband’s chest whilst Shiro rubs circles into his hair and the back of his neck.
The petting, it turns out, is key to quieting his heightened Galra tendencies to jump his husband’s bones at ant given opportunity.
And it was working, Keith was relaxed.
Until now.
Kosmo is naked, grinning like a loon, and covered in green blood and teal viscera, and holding aloft the body of what appears to be an enormous snake with several heads.
My space wolf murdered a hydra, Keith thinks weakly. Oh shit.
“KEE!” But Kosmo is so proud of himself, and so uncaring of the fact he is dripping blood on Lance and that Griffin had just been thwacked in the face by the tail of the dead thing. “Look! I killed a thing!”
Everyone looks to Keith, probably because it is preferably to looking at a naked Kosmo. His smile is not the only thing about him which is proud…
But Keith can’t bring himself to be mad with his friend, not again, not after the awful sensation of being able to feel Kosmo’s shame through their bond. He smiles.
“So you did. Good boy!”
Shiro chuckles softly into the back of Keith’s neck, low enough that no one else will hear, and Kosmo barks with joy, drops his prize and vaults over the sprawl of Regris’s nest of cushions to rub himself against Keith.
Keith’s lap becomes a nest for an affectionate and filthy space not-wolf, the Paladins argue at length over the dead hydra. Shiro pets the cleanest part of Kosmo over Keith’s shoulder.
“Just like a old times?”
“Nah, for that we’d have to cook it.”
Space hydra tastes like chicken.
It goes great with hot sauce.

Kosmo’s smile is brighter for days afterward.
Kosmo: Good Wolf, Bad Human
#sheith thread, accidentally human kosmo, mostly silly, some nsfw

Shiro looks stressed, and that is instantly a matter of concern for Keith. He has spent years intimidating people into learning how to delegate and ask for help so that not everything gets instantly passed to Shiro.
But Shiro has those creases between his eyes which means something is wrong, and Keith – fresh back from hand-to-hand combat training with the Blades stationed on board, is already wiling to fight whoever it is causing his husband pain.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
“Oh Keith… Keith, he’s in the shower again.”
And sure enough, when Keith cocks his head he hears the telltale sounds of their shower on full blast.
“Atlas says it’s draining her freshwater supplies.”
Between an empathic bond with a space wolf and a mental link with a fully sentient spaceship, Keith sometimes wonders how he and Shiro have any room in their heads for each other.
Keith sighs, and heads for the bathroom.
“Kos? Kos, buddy, time to come out of there now. We’ve got things to do.”
Kosmo grins at him through the fogged up glass, tongue out and eyes aglow.
Keith considers this.
“Well, I was going to take Shiro out for ice cream.” It turns out most alien species have some version of frozen dessert which is safe for human consumption. “but I guess if you don’t want to come…”
Kosmo teleports out of the shower, bringing much of the water with him. Keith sniggers, even though his uniform ends up soaked.
Kosmo does.
“Good boy. Go tell Shiro while I change.”
Listening to Kosmo bound into the other room whilst he switches his damp uniform for jeans and tee makes Keith smile.
“Kee says ICE CREAM!”
Later, arm around Shiro’s trim waist as they lick their treats and watch Kosmo dancing along the promenade by the crystal-pink water, Keith grins broadly when his husband says:
“I can’t believe you can trick me and him the the same way.”
Keith slides his hand south and gropes his husband’s arse in an obvious manner.
“I always said you’re just a big puppy, Baby.”
Shiro turns an extremely attractive shade of pink, and Keith wonders who he can get to dog-sit for the evening.
Whatever Kosmo is doing, he is happy. Keith closes his eyes, because it’s easier to visualize his link with Kosmo that way, and concentrates on the signals he is receiving from the space wolf.
Kosmo is…
Keith recoils from the link fast enough to give himself a headache, from the other room, Kosmo yelps.
“Sorry,” Keith winces. “I should have...asked or something. Shit.”
Silence. Then-
“Yes Kos?”
“I don’t know if I’m doing it right.”
Keith has been embarrassed before: sharing memories with his mom on the space whale, the time Matt walked in on him and Shiro and wouldn’t leave until he finished crowing about it, getting stuck half inside his cruiser whilst wearing anal beads.
None of those times comes close to this.
Kosmo was masturbating, and Keith just did the empathic equivalent of walking in without knocking. Only worse, much worse.
And now Kosmo wants… his help? He’s not sure he can do this.
“Kee?” Kosmo’s whine is plaintive and accompanied by a soft tug on their bond, and Keith slumps into the wall with a soft thud.
“Just… do what comes naturally.”
“But my spine doesn't bend that much any more!”
Keith feels his blood drain to his feet.
Not once in 4 years has he ever seen or overheard of the space wolf doing anything sexual, and apart from a few times in Black when they had very limited space, has Kosmo ever been even vaguely present when he and Shiro have sex.
Kosmo being sexual isn’t something which has ever occurred to him.
Keith feels guilty about that somehow, because he’s always known – and now it’s clear to everyone else too – than Kosmo is as much a person as any other alien race.
“Do you… do you usually…” Keith isn’t sure how to finish his sentence, and having the conversation through the wall is awkward, but way less so than seeing whatever going on on the other side.
Keith shifts uncomfortably, because now is not a good time to get an erection.
“- take care of yourself?” he finishes.
“Yes. Its not like you and Baby ever ask me to join you.”
Keith nearly swallows his tongue.
Keith is certain he’s on the receiving end of an eyeroll.
“It’s not like I can’t feel it when you're together.”
Oh fuck.
“is that- something you want?”
“No. not with you.” Kosmo makes an unhappy noise loud enough for Keith to hear through the wall and feel in his head simultaneously. “Not with Baby either.”
“but with someone?”
“Do you want to tell me who?”
There is a swirling image of purple and flashes of movement, and Keith backs away from the connection. It’s someone in the BOM, and that’s enough information for now.
“Let’s just deal with this problem for now, OK bud?”
“OK.” Keith feels a frisson of pleasure through their bond again, and tries very hard not to imagine his space not-wolf touching himself. “What do I do to make it go down?”
Sure, Keith’s been embarrassed before, but no amount of stumbling over the complex formal greetings as ambassador to new coalition planet is ever going to top guiding his friend through his first ever humanoid orgasm.
Keith wants to murder Slav. He always wants to murder Slav a little bit, but right now Keith wants the statistician silent and gone almost more than he wants to keep breathing.
He’s off on a tangent, no one seems to be able to stop him, and Keith really wants to go home and get Shiro to fuck him so hard he can’t walk. Slav’s warped reality predictions can wait for another lifetime.
Keith is half wishing Atlas would sound the alarm so he can spring into action and get out of this meeting when there is a sharp breath of ozone, and Kosmo teleports into the room. Directly into the centre of the conference table.
Kosmo is clean, which is a slight relief, not holding a recently hunted creature, and very obviously hard. He keens at Keith the moment he fully materialises and the sound lances Keith directly in the heart.
His friend needs him.
Everyone is staring.
“Kee… what’s going on? Why won’t it go away?”
Beside Keith, Shiro makes a noise like a dying sea creature and hides behind his prosthetic hand.
“Kos. Not now bud!”
Keith whips off his jacket, crowding close to Kosmo, trying to cover his bright blue erection. It glows. Why does it need to glow?
“But i already jerked off twice and it won't go away! It hurts. Help me again?”
Keith feels the eyes of everyone in the room land on him, Shiro has gone the approximate colour of a freshly boiled lobster, and Keith knows that everyone within hearing distance totally misconstrued that final sentence.
Shiro’s hand grips his shoulder, and the three of them poof out of existence right before the questions start.
Later, the Bridge crew claim ‘an unprecedented malfunction’ as to why the main boardroom suddenly had no doors for several varga, and why the PADDs of everyone in it have been wiped of all meeting data and recordings.
Keith presses a kiss to the bulkhead outside their quarters and sends Atlas all his gratitude.
leaving it here for tonight because it is genuinely too hot to have my laptop touching any part of me.
Sorry for filling all your timelines with random silliness, but he's a thing where you can throw small hard coins at me. https://ko-fi.com/sashadistan 
Kosmo: Good Dog, Bad Human
Established #sheith, accidentally humanoid Kosmo, implied #nsfw, mostly just silly, after the war, s8 is garbage, everybody lives ofc.

//continued... (last part)
Keith half wakes, it’s dark, all is quiet, and the weight of Shiro’s arm looped around his ribs is grounding. Keith inhales his husband’s scent and half gathers his giant hippo plush with his free arm, loving the way it feels to hold and be held.
He’s too warm for blankets, and even Shiro has kicked aside the sheets at some point, scooting up to spoon naked against Keith’s spine. His breath comes in warm pants over his hip and the neck of his neck.
Hold the fucking phone…
Dreading what he already knows he’s going to see, Keith rolls over in the scoop of Shiro’s arms to discover that Shiro is only half spooning him, and lying on he bed between them is Kosmo, wedged apparently perfectly comfortably between their legs.
His head lolls back on Keith’s hip, eyes reduced to sleepy slits, bright tongue peeking from the side of his mouth. It would be a usual position to find him in, especially if it was cold, a 300-pound space wolf trying to be a lap dog.
But this isn’t their usual.
“Kos!” Keith hisses.
“Shhh…” Shiro murmurs against his neck, arm going tight around him. “He misses being with us.”
“Shiro?” Keith can hardly believe his husband is on board with this.
“Just for tonight my love.”
Keith huffs, but settles onto his pillows.
“Your loss. Was going to fuck myself on your morning wood, but I guess that’ll have to wait.”
Shiro blushes. Keith rolls his eyes, because it’s adorable his bluntness can still make his husband blush.
There is a soft whine and then:
“Can I watch?”
The three of them stare at each other for a long moment. Keith’s heart pounds and the bond between them vibrates with panic.
Shiro speaks first.
“This feels like a 'pants on' conversation to me.”
Shiro puts on underwear, Keith too, and he wraps the sheets over his hips as Shiro returns to sit up against their headboard. Shiro throws a shirt as Kosmo, he won’t wear it, and the not-wolf hugs it tight and inhales, but it ends up covering his lap
“What does sex feel like?” Kosmo’s tone isn’t playful or teasing, and Keith feels along the length of their bond cautiously. Kosmo isn’t trying to make them uncomfortable or horny, he’s genuinely curious.
“Oh Kos…”
“Is it good?” Kosmo’s attention swings to Shiro. “It must be good, right?”
Shiro starts to nod before he realises what he’s confirming.
“Can I learn?”
Shiro sounds like he swallowed his tongue. Keith sighs softly.
“Not from us, bud. No.”
“Oh.” His head tilts, it’s achingly familiar. “Why?”
Keith reaches out and scrubs a hand through Kosmo’s blue hair. The not-wolf pushes up into his touch with a soft sigh of pleasure.
“People don’t really have sex with their friends, Kos.”
“Well… only very specific friends.” Shiro adds, hugging Keith tight.
“Right, only specific friends.”
“But it feels good?”
“Yes Kos, it feels good.” Keith chews his lip. “Something you want to tell us?”
Now, Kosmo looks guilty.
The space not-wolf mumbles something largely incoherent, and Keith arches an eyebrow.
“Spit it out bud, we’re not gonna judge you.”
“If he says Matt I might judge him a little,” Shiro chuckles.
They wait. Kosmo fidgets.
“Antok?” Shiro echoes palely.
Keith remembers quite clearly having Antok pinning him down with a knee in the small of his back. Antok is big. Antok also makes moon eyes over the pretty flowers in Atlas’s growhouse.
There are worse choices.
“Is that bad?” Kosmo asks, “That I wanna have sex with Antok?”
“No. You know you have to ask him though, right? You can’t just go up and touch him without permission.”
Kosmo hangs his head.
“I’m gonna screw it up, aren’t I?”
Of all the things Keith never thought he’d do, having a middle of the night conversation with his space wolf about consent – whilst Shiro offers fairly awful advice on flirting – is not one of them.
Keith might need to prime Antok for this though.
Keith supposes it’s a MUCH stranger version of watching your kid go off for their first day of school. Or having them bring a potential date for prom back to the house.
Something like that. There’s probably an analogy which fits.
Because what Keith is doing is watching as Kosmo greets Antok, and then – politely but loudly – asks the enormous Blade if he would like to have sex.
“Dinner Kos, you were supposed to ask him out for dinner first…” Shiro groans into his palm.
But Keith can only smile fondly as Antok’s hand grips Kosmo’s shoulder, his face splitting in a grin. Kosmo woofs with happiness.
It's a shame he has no tail to wag.
“Do you think we’ll get a play by play when they’re done?” Shiro asks weakly, watching as they leave.
Antok’s tail is curving around Kosmo’s bare waist. Keith trusts his comrade to be gentle with his friend.
“Oh, I expect so.”
Keith loops his own arm around his husband’s hips, tugging him close. They have about a movement left until the effects of the Vruun cuisine wear off, he intends to make good use of it.
“I think Kosmo is going to have a new favourite planet.”
“Did we ever send any of those food samples to Hunk?”
“Probably best,” Shiro decides.
Keith grins, feeling the bond with his space wolf vibrate. Whatever Kosmo’s doing, he’s having fun.
“Come Captain. I have this feeling our bed is missing us.”
They do not make it as far as the bed.

// fin
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