[ keith splutters, face going cherry red in the immediate aftermath of lon's comment and his scandal is made only worse with the knowledge that in the next beat lon's gone right back to chit chatting with judy. he's the only one getting worked up here, and keith doesn't know how to articulate why. they were already leaving, so whatever the director wants is and has always been irrelevant. it's just .... what? that he's a prude?
fuck. he didn't think he was? or at least, he'd figured prudes wouldn't be going around presenting themselves to anons through glory holes, but the ease with which lon talks about his body is disconcerting. can keith even casually tell somene he's fucking to go slip in a plug? apparently not, considering his one repeat partner is someone he doesn't physically speak to.
there are a whole slew of implications to unpack in that. messed up ones, really. is he dealing with repression? stupidity? perhaps both? increasingly exasperated with himself, keith is about to yell back a choice retort when shiro beats him to the punch. except... shiro isn't addressing lon, he's speaking to keith. like the rest of them don't even matter.
instantly soothed, keith quietens, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he listens. if anything, he's expecting a joke at lon sheremi's expense. instead, there's ... affirmation? mercifully, the curtains obscure shiro from seeing keith's doubletake but the longer his best friend continues to speak in somber tones, the more confused incredulity mellows into something harder to place. there's a healthy amount of embarrassment, sure, but it's twinged with regret as well. ]
Gimme a sec.
[ get out of here. right. that's the easy part to address in all this. keith tugs at his tiny white booty shorts and pulls on his long orange yoga pants over the knee highs. if he's walking out of here, he's at least doing so in a slightly more dignified manner. next, he scoops up his clothes and boots and draws back his curtain. ]
Okay. I'm ready to leave. [ ] and before nerves can get the better of him, keith is quick to add: ] And just so you know, there doesn't have to be a first time. Ever. If you don't think it feels right. But I... I still want to hang out.
shiro's denial is going to be what keeps them in porn prison for a year longer
fuck. he didn't think he was? or at least, he'd figured prudes wouldn't be going around presenting themselves to anons through glory holes, but the ease with which lon talks about his body is disconcerting. can keith even casually tell somene he's fucking to go slip in a plug? apparently not, considering his one repeat partner is someone he doesn't physically speak to.
there are a whole slew of implications to unpack in that. messed up ones, really. is he dealing with repression? stupidity? perhaps both? increasingly exasperated with himself, keith is about to yell back a choice retort when shiro beats him to the punch. except... shiro isn't addressing lon, he's speaking to keith. like the rest of them don't even matter.
instantly soothed, keith quietens, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he listens. if anything, he's expecting a joke at lon sheremi's expense. instead, there's ... affirmation? mercifully, the curtains obscure shiro from seeing keith's doubletake but the longer his best friend continues to speak in somber tones, the more confused incredulity mellows into something harder to place. there's a healthy amount of embarrassment, sure, but it's twinged with regret as well. ]
Gimme a sec.
[ get out of here. right. that's the easy part to address in all this. keith tugs at his tiny white booty shorts and pulls on his long orange yoga pants over the knee highs. if he's walking out of here, he's at least doing so in a slightly more dignified manner. next, he scoops up his clothes and boots and draws back his curtain. ]
Okay. I'm ready to leave. [ ] and before nerves can get the better of him, keith is quick to add: ] And just so you know, there doesn't have to be a first time. Ever. If you don't think it feels right. But I... I still want to hang out.