[ shiro appreciates the over-clarification. as in sync as they are in other aspects of their friendship, they seem to suffer the biggest hurdle when it comes to communicating what it is they feel toward or want from each other. so much of it has been implied throughout the years that, perhaps, shiro’s taken it for granted that keith doesn’t intrinsically know how dear he is to him. or how, out of everyone shiro has left in his life, keith is the person shiro feels the most secure with. he’s been there the longest, afterall. he knew shiro before and after the most trying time in his life, and still, seems to know him, the real him, despite all the changes.
sometimes shiro wonders if this keith feels the same way. maybe he does for his shiro, because this shiro, the one stretched out and retracting his hand to lay over his stomach, hasn’t been there to the end. there is so much time between them; so much time that shiro has only the cliff-notes of and can’t be of any real use to help keith through.
he can, at the very least, help keith through this trying time though. so, silently, he listens and watches as keith fiddles with his socks. he can’t see much of it from his position, but he can see the motion of keith’s biceps, triceps, and the line of his shoulders as his hair brushes over his nape, through the shaking of his head. he frowns faintly, not finding comfort in the laughter or the apology. ]
You haven’t made me think that.
[ not exactly. there are isolated moments of doubt but overall: ]
You’ve done the opposite, actually. [ he has no control over how his mind drifts to keith drugged out on aphro. the way he’d pawed at shiro, the things he’d said… – shiro flicks his gaze back to the ceiling. then there’s the night keith urged him to sleep over and how they’d curled together, followed up by kisses and flirting and –
keith’s done his best to make the transition easy. the problem is with – ] I’m the one who’s been acting like I’m uncomfortable.
[ still, partly true. his frown deepens further, trying to work out the explanation in his head. ]
As stupid as it sounds, I think I’ve been like that because I care so much about you. [ ultimately, he sighs and rolls onto his side, arm slung out over the bedding beside him. the bedding that keith really ought to fill but shiro doesn’t urge for, beyond a brief patting of his fingers. he does smile though, the curve sheepish and apologetic all at once. ]
no subject
sometimes shiro wonders if this keith feels the same way. maybe he does for his shiro, because this shiro, the one stretched out and retracting his hand to lay over his stomach, hasn’t been there to the end. there is so much time between them; so much time that shiro has only the cliff-notes of and can’t be of any real use to help keith through.
he can, at the very least, help keith through this trying time though. so, silently, he listens and watches as keith fiddles with his socks. he can’t see much of it from his position, but he can see the motion of keith’s biceps, triceps, and the line of his shoulders as his hair brushes over his nape, through the shaking of his head. he frowns faintly, not finding comfort in the laughter or the apology. ]
You haven’t made me think that.
[ not exactly. there are isolated moments of doubt but overall: ]
You’ve done the opposite, actually. [ he has no control over how his mind drifts to keith drugged out on aphro. the way he’d pawed at shiro, the things he’d said… – shiro flicks his gaze back to the ceiling. then there’s the night keith urged him to sleep over and how they’d curled together, followed up by kisses and flirting and –
keith’s done his best to make the transition easy. the problem is with – ] I’m the one who’s been acting like I’m uncomfortable.
[ still, partly true. his frown deepens further, trying to work out the explanation in his head. ]
As stupid as it sounds, I think I’ve been like that because I care so much about you. [ ultimately, he sighs and rolls onto his side, arm slung out over the bedding beside him. the bedding that keith really ought to fill but shiro doesn’t urge for, beyond a brief patting of his fingers. he does smile though, the curve sheepish and apologetic all at once. ]
I don’t wanna mess up with you.