[ hindsight is twenty-twenty and shiro realizes that he should have put more emphasis on the j. with the proper enunciation, then keith wouldn’t be looking over his shoulder and shiro, like the dumbass he is, wouldn’t be following his gaze. the angle is wrong, so shiro can’t see keith’s derriere, but looking down has him, once again, noticing how short that lab coat is and how high those boots are. the black vinyl hugs his thighs, creating a startling contrast to the white and soft peach. funny, shiro always associates desert and the bright, arizona sun when it comes to keith, but the boy’s skin certainly doesn’t match that environment. no tan, no dryness, in fact, even from this distance, his thighs look soft –
fuck, where is his mind going? keith’s been in space for years and now a few months here, so of course his skin wouldn’t be affected by a desert climate. not that shiro should even waste any moment of precious brain energy contemplating how keith’s skin is or why keith’s skin is.
… too bad he’s now considering the skin of his face, particularly the rosiness of his cheeks. good god. there are people bustling around them, fiddling with filming equipment and adjusting set pieces, so there is, at least, some constant deterrent that keeps him from fully appreciating the figure keith cuts. miles long pulls a faintly amused sound from his throat, his features still wavering between distress and exasperated humor. it’s not a bad pornstar name, he thinks. neither of them are; they both are rather fitting if he’s completely honest. thankfully, he doesn’t have time to be honest, because god awful shrieking erupts, all of it ending with shiro sending a curious glance to keith, dread filling his voice. ]
Pega… what?
[ but then someone is clapping their hands together twice, drawing attention as he comes to stand in the center of set with them. ]
Actors! Are my lovely actors ready?
[ so this is the director. lon sheremi, was it? he’s a fellow inmate but not one shiro knows much of anything about. the fact that he’s wearing the orange booty shorts, despite having been here long enough to have acquired other clothing, such as the long sleeved, baby pink shirt he’s wearing, is probably all shiro needs to know in order to form an accurate opinion of him. ]
Uh…
[ what’s the word he’s looking for? no? why can’t he remember how to form it with his mouth? ]
Oh, look at you two. Casting hit it outta the park. [ lon sheremi looks shiro up and down, then does the same to keith; weirdly, the second glance over bothers shiro more. ] The chemistry here is electric.
[ a beat and then lon sheremi starts fanning himself, grinning wide. ]
And the sexual tension… oh boy. [ silly, ridiculous, stupid shiro makes a noise like a dying… something. something in pain, that is very much dying. yes. something that is about to be dead.
lon sheremi zeroes in on him, sidling close to stand beside shiro, arm looping over his shoulders like an old friend. he’s staring over at keith, leaning in like he’s sharing a secret with shiro, but his voice carries across the divide. ]
Bet you can’t wait to start shooting so you can get some of that, am I right?
[ shiro’s mouth drops open, eyes wider… and still looking at keith. ]
I… wha–
[ he stops short – not that he was making any ground – when lon sheremi pats his chest, placating the panic. ]
But patience, beefcake. We’ll do a read through first.
[ and then he moves away, sitting down in a director’s chair that seemingly appeared six feet away from them. shiro blinks hard, still a little confused as to what just happened. ]
i have no idea what personality lon sheremi has but apparently he's eccentric
fuck, where is his mind going? keith’s been in space for years and now a few months here, so of course his skin wouldn’t be affected by a desert climate. not that shiro should even waste any moment of precious brain energy contemplating how keith’s skin is or why keith’s skin is.
… too bad he’s now considering the skin of his face, particularly the rosiness of his cheeks. good god. there are people bustling around them, fiddling with filming equipment and adjusting set pieces, so there is, at least, some constant deterrent that keeps him from fully appreciating the figure keith cuts. miles long pulls a faintly amused sound from his throat, his features still wavering between distress and exasperated humor. it’s not a bad pornstar name, he thinks. neither of them are; they both are rather fitting if he’s completely honest. thankfully, he doesn’t have time to be honest, because god awful shrieking erupts, all of it ending with shiro sending a curious glance to keith, dread filling his voice. ]
Pega… what?
[ but then someone is clapping their hands together twice, drawing attention as he comes to stand in the center of set with them. ]
Actors! Are my lovely actors ready?
[ so this is the director. lon sheremi, was it? he’s a fellow inmate but not one shiro knows much of anything about. the fact that he’s wearing the orange booty shorts, despite having been here long enough to have acquired other clothing, such as the long sleeved, baby pink shirt he’s wearing, is probably all shiro needs to know in order to form an accurate opinion of him. ]
Uh…
[ what’s the word he’s looking for? no? why can’t he remember how to form it with his mouth? ]
Oh, look at you two. Casting hit it outta the park. [ lon sheremi looks shiro up and down, then does the same to keith; weirdly, the second glance over bothers shiro more. ] The chemistry here is electric.
[ a beat and then lon sheremi starts fanning himself, grinning wide. ]
And the sexual tension… oh boy. [ silly, ridiculous, stupid shiro makes a noise like a dying… something. something in pain, that is very much dying. yes. something that is about to be dead.
lon sheremi zeroes in on him, sidling close to stand beside shiro, arm looping over his shoulders like an old friend. he’s staring over at keith, leaning in like he’s sharing a secret with shiro, but his voice carries across the divide. ]
Bet you can’t wait to start shooting so you can get some of that, am I right?
[ shiro’s mouth drops open, eyes wider… and still looking at keith. ]
I… wha–
[ he stops short – not that he was making any ground – when lon sheremi pats his chest, placating the panic. ]
But patience, beefcake. We’ll do a read through first.
[ and then he moves away, sitting down in a director’s chair that seemingly appeared six feet away from them. shiro blinks hard, still a little confused as to what just happened. ]