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« Shiro »
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Hi, this is Shiro.
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[ that’s not an agreement. silly of him to even note it. afterall, he’s still very much aware that nothing said here is binding, not when so much of their lives are dictated by the warden. staying true to each other isn’t loyalty, not entirely. it’s luck. the thought is defeating in nature, but even with it at the forefront of his thoughts, shiro keeps his smile. ]

Yeah. I’ll keep you satisfied.

[ it’s easily said; cocksure and teasing. if keith plays nice, perhaps shiro will even make up for the past couple of weeks that he spent stuck in his head, hesitating on moving forward. he still has reservations; he isn’t without the fear that the natural feel of their bond will strain when they stray too far from the familiar boundaries of their friendship. seeing each other naked, kissing, even grinding together under the influence – they’ve done all that and yet they’re here, grinning and laughing together. so maybe sex won’t be the big, altering step he once thought it would be. ]

Just tell me what I wanna hear.

[ all said, i'll keep you satisfied is clearly a bit of teasing that's perfectly in line with the kind of playful banter they've been messing with. yet the cockiness of the declaration makes keith squirmyth, cheeks warming.

they're still only talking about kisses is what keith is quick to remind himself, but it's hard when they're positioned and dressed the way they are to keep his imagination from wandering. this whole time here, nobody has assured him of anything like that. even anon who comes closest to being someone keith can go to when he's craving more without fear of judgment hasn't made such assurances.

though, maybe agreeing to be a "good boy" is something akin to that?

fuck. was that anon's way of saying he'll take care of keith? intent is so much harder to read when there's balsa wood between them and keith is under no delusion that the guy wants anything from him other than a willing mouth and ass to fuck. keith blinks, not quite wanting to be thinking about anon at all right now, but he can't help wondering if shiro with all his gentle care will could actually satisfy him the way he's gotten used to.

nervously, keith wets his lips as he shifts his gaze away briefly, too ashamed to even look at shiro while thinking about the literal hole in the wall and the dick that comes poking through. keith takes a breath, then flicks his gaze back up to hold eye contact. kiss exclusivity ... right. ]

Just you. Only you get to kiss me like this.

[ the smile on his face is a little shy, but despite knowing better about the sanctity of his bodily autonomy or shiro's for that matter, the idea is something he's fond of. ]

...heh. Honestly I don't know if I even like being looked at when things get... you know. And afterwards, too. You're the only one I actually feel really relaxed around, you know? So I guess ... it goes without saying.

[ it’s weighty in a way he hasn’t readied himself for. he’s been teasing; genuinely, as far as cocky grins and playful pitches go, anticipating keith to rally back with another demand for shiro to hurry up with their mutually exclusive kisses. that’s keith though: the boy’s lethal, and not only with a blade in his hand. here, he’s got a shy look about him and soft words, the honesty so freely given that shiro’s disarmed by the end of it.

you know?

he can’t say he’s known this to be true, but he’s shamelessly revelled in the hope of it being true. he likes being keith’s favorite person, the one he feels most comfortable turning to, even if at times, shiro puts up boundaries that make it harder. it’s complicated. it’s shiro thinking too heavily about how things should be handled, rather than how he would like them to be handled. he’s getting better about being honest with himself though, as well as with keith, and so, he swallows back the reflex to edit his reciprocation, voice soft. ]

You’re that, too – for me.

[ he doesn’t want to turn this around to be about him. it’s not that. it’s that keith deserves to know that he’s a big comfort to shiro as well. has been, ever since he swooped in and rescued shiro from the garrison. ]

I don’t like people looking at me either, like they’re trying to make sense of what it is they’re seeing. They don’t understand. They can’t.

[ he pitches his weight onto his metal arm and balances out, lifting his other hand to run a palm to keith’s forehead, pushing back his bangs. ]

But you do. Maybe not about before, about what happened… but – you see me.

[ him. not the scars or the weird hair or the metal arm. not even the old title of the garrison’s golden boy like the other paladins do. it’s nice – to be seen in that way. he huffs a light, amused sound, part chiding in the way his smile grows wider. he rolls his eyes, looking away. ]

God, that was cheesy, wasn’t it? All that to say that I like looking at you and I like you looking at me. [ and you know what? he’s still not going to give keith much of a chance to get a word in edgewise, because shiro will be shoving an arm underneath keith’s shoulders and then pushing off, dragging keith through the roll that puts keith on top, shiro now with his back to the bed. ]

So, should I spoil you with kisses now or after we’ve crawled under the covers?

[ it's meant to be sweet; reciprocation is supposed to be affirming and wonderful. if keith were to be kind to himself, he'd accept it, too. shiro and him have more than a shared history, they save each other time and time again, ever since keith was just some scrappy kid with bruised knuckles and a permanently etched scowl on his face. their lives are so intertwined that keith genuinely no longer has any sense of who he'd even be without shiro's guidance. so if shiro thought he was being cheesy, the man's got nothing on the totality of how keith sees it.

allura had always thrown around the word destiny as it related to their lives as paladins. to this day, keith can't say that everything leading to voltron had ever felt so grand. if anything from that day felt like fate it was the prophesized landing that brought shiro back into his life. of course, keith never took that to mean that shiro and him were destined to be together, trading kisses and holding each other. the truth of the matter is that they might not ever be like this outside of this shitty prison facility.

but he kind of wants to believe in destiny, fate, whatever the fuck force it is that keeps them in each other's orbit against all odds and deying death itself.

but that all said? you see me leaves keith aching as shiro smils and rolls him on top. does he really see shiro? can anyone who didn't realize their best friend had been replaced by a clone truly be said to be seeing? positions reversed, keith looks down at shiro. the whole thing is ridiculous. dressed in a white tank top and a jock strap, this isn't the time to be having some kind of existential crisis. keith actually laughs at himself, as both hands again come up to cup shiro's face. ]

I ... I don't know about that. [ his smile is brittle here, but he tries to make up for it with a chaste peck to shiro's lips. ]

But I want to keep seeing you.

[ heartfelt, keith holds eye contact another moment, fingers moving up to brush through shiro's forelock before shuffling to tug at the covers. ]

Let's get under the covers. I don't want to have to move again.

[ the tremor that has keith stuttering on a word is all it takes. shiro’s expression wilts with that doubt. the wide stretch of his smile lessens, but keith gives him a kiss and it stops the fall. shiro’s lips freeze and so, he’s still smiling something small, curious, and concerned, although he’s trying not to give it too much power here, when keith pulls away. he thinks – as he always does when there’s misalignment between them – of everything he’s yet to experience. he feels silly in the aftermath. like he’s been gently chided, as one would a child or someone wholly incapable of understanding. that’s him, he supposes. someone stuck in a past this keith has already lived.

staring up at keith, shiro considers asking, but as always, he shies away from knowing too much and lets the moment go in favor of relaxing into the play of keith’s fingers. he’s had months to ask; he’s not going to spoil this hard won moment by finally sating morbid curiosity. that’s his justification, but there’s more to it too. cowardice. he’s already dealing with a past he can hardly stomach, he doesn’t want to imagine a future that has keith making faces like that. ]

Okay.

[ he strengthens his smile with a little force, giving keith room to shuffle and tug, before he gets himself moving. covers pulled back, pillows properly arranged – shiro gets his legs tucked underneath and then pauses, considering the sleeve of his left arm.

keith’s seen him. keith’s seen all of him. and – i want to keep seeing you. it’s not this; it isn’t so literal. but shiro takes a breath and then pulls at the hem, drawing the long sleeved shirt up and off, tossing it toward the foot of the bed. he gives keith a look that reads something close to is this okay, before he turns his gaze away and shuffles further down, getting his head to the pillow. lying down on his side, he stretches out his legs and points his toes until his ankles give a satisfying pop. he sighs out and closes his eyes, reaching for keith. ]

Feels like a dream compared to the cot, huh?

[ keith knows he's messed up. the fracturing of shiro's expression is hard to watch, and once again has to wonder if he's doing the right thing by keeping the truth of what's happened to shiro in his reality away from thie shiro beside him. after all, they might not even be from the same reality so who's to say that this shiro's fate is already carved in stone?

but no. there's no point in torturing shiro with possibility when he's already dealing with enough as it is just by existing in yet another alien prison. unless shiro puts him in the position of having to tell the truth, keith won't because ....

because i love you?

he goes a little pink with the thought, and warmer still as shiro pulls the long sleeved shirt up over his head to expose his sculpted chest and arms. despite what shiro says about people staring like they're trying to figure him out, keith privately thinks they're just staring because he's so gorgeous to look at. he nods at the hesitant look, then carefully scoots under the covers as well, head resting on a downy pillow. ]

Honestly? This whole thing right now feels a little like a dream.

[ he laughs soft and shy, rolling onto his side to face shiro. instinctively, he starts lifting his hand then pauses. ]

Heh. I don't know where you'd be most comfortable with me putting my hand. I think I'm overthinking.

[ a little. certain parts, at least. like how shiro flutters his lashes and sees keith there, face half hidden in the pillow. he’s pink and he’s sweet, dreamlike in the way this moment feels hazy and sluggish, dosed in comfort. but the feeling isn’t absolute. other parts stand out and shiro thinks, no, if this were truly a dream, the white in his hair would be gone, as would the metal posing as his right arm. both of them would be without scars, too. maybe then, keith wouldn’t hesitate in reaching for him.

perhaps he should have left the shirt on. last time they were like this, shiro had. keith’s touch had come easier then, with that thin, yet welcome barrier to cover all the odd patches of skin once ripped, gouged and ruined, left to knit itself back together.

his smile is lopsided. it’s hard to tell when half his face is hidden as well, but it is, with the apparent side pulling hard enough to plump his cheek. it hurts, a little, to force the smile. he doesn’t begrudge keith though. he doesn’t let the hesitation fester into doubt either. he reaches out with this flesh hand – because shiro is purposeful and aware, having intentionally picked the side of the bed that would put him down on his right, metal arm now safely tucked underneath his own pillow. he reaches for keith and grasps his stalled hand, drawing it around to lay it over his waist.

there’s a scar there, if keith trails his fingertips up to his lats, where four claw marks taper down into fine points. this is better though. this side is clear. it’s his right side that is a mess of jagged lines, courtesy of that fucking witch. ]

You can avoid them. [ he drapes his arm over keith, pulling him in closer. ] You don’t have to pretend to –

[ his words don’t soften or trail off. they simply stop. like he suddenly realizes he has no words for what he’s trying to say. what is he trying to say? keith doesn’t need to pretend to like them? shiro doesn’t need to be coddled or told anything. he certainly doesn’t need gentle, reverent touches that are more fake than genuine, tracing scarred tissue.

so no overthinking. no special treatment. this is no big deal. ]

[ avoid? keith binks, not quite following the logic until it hits him all at once with all the clarity of a suckerpunch to the gut. grimacing visibly, keith draws in closer, the hand draped over shiro's waist tightening ever so slightly. ]

I didn't -- I wasn't thinking about your scars or anything. I just meant I wasn't sure if touching like this would be pushing the whole ... doing things at our own pace. Especially since you know... [ he fidgets, biting his lip briefly. ] ...Since I may as well just not be wearing underwear right now.

[ keith trails off here, uncertain if he's explaining or overexplaining. one thing's for damn sure -- he's overthinking. he spreads his fingers slightly, thumb lightly grazing over a ridge of scar tissue. again, keith hesitates, but it's just for a beat and then he shifts his whole hand up higher to map out the parallel lines of uneven tissue. ]

There's nothing about you that I want to avoid, Shiro.

[ but is that even true? well, he can't be avoiding something shiro doesn't know he's avoiding. but knowing that's a cheap fuckign copout, keith adds: ]

But I guess it helps to know you want me in.

[ oh. that’s – oh. so shiro’s feeling chided again, though this time it’s well deserved. sheepishness floods his system and it’s hard to maintain eye contact, his gradually drifting to the side where keith’s hair frame his cheekbone. his arm is over keith’s, with his hand curled into the middle of the boy’s back; far away from the bareness of his ass. still. the mention has shiro’s fingers pressing into keith’s spine, wanting badly to map the line down. he doesn’t, however, because keith’s fingers splay too and now, shiro’s breath gives a tiny hitch, body going rigid for a split second of unknowing, before he lets go of that panicked feeling he doesn’t even fully understand.

it’s not a big deal, he means it. he’s been with a handful of people now, been seen and touted like a prize while people have gawked. he can handle people looking, judging, even touching; it’s not like the state of his body is a hairpin trigger, waiting to go off. the graze of keith’s fingers isn’t so terrible though. he can’t say he likes it, but he doesn’t hate it, which means something. maybe it’s just that he trusts keith. or maybe it’s that the words that follow have him feeling hopeful, just a smidge. either way, he gives up on studying the waviness of keith’s hair and meets his gaze. ]

I do.

[ want to let him in. eventually. someday. somehow. he doesn’t know how to though, not yet, not fully. so he has to wonder… does he ever figure it out? ]

Did… your Shiro ever talk about it? [ he shifts his face closer across the pillow, subconsciously seeking comfort. ] Captivity.

[ your shiro. it hits differently than the two words, i died back in the infinite void, but they still cut open a black hole in his chest. your shiro.

right. his shiro. the one with white hair, alive in a clone of his own body. his shiro who would rather be flying with pidge in the green lion during the long voyage back to earth than be anywhere near him and the lion he was trapped inside. keith bites his lip. no. he isn't being fair. shiro had flown with him in the beginning, but then... it's not like they could talk about anything. not with krolia there and coran singing the latin alphabet.

his shiro. how would his shiro feel about keith kissing and cuddling yet another version of him? as if the clone thing wasn't fucked up enough. and how would this shiro's keith feel about any of what's happening in prison? keith briefly closes his eyes and forces out a laugh. it hurts his head to think about it, and finds no ready asnwer to the growing doubt about whether any of this is a good idea.

but. i love you. the clone had more or less told him to forget about it and "his" shiro never saw fit to bring it back up. it doesn't matter -- not really, because the words were only ever intended to make shiro stop fighting. but all the same, keith's fracturing expression spells out his answer before he's verbally given one. ]

...no.

[ he swallows, feeling smaller somehow. like he's the bearer of some disappointing news. keith lets his gaze drop to shiro's collar bone, index idly tracing up and down scar tissue. ]

He didn't. But he had his reasons, I think. [ a slew of horrible reasons. ] ... like you, I guess.

[ so much for this feeling like a dream. hard to imagine that five minutes ago, he’d been pressing smiles to keith’s lips. it’s unconscionable. everything's unraveled so quickly; so much so that shiro’s feeling a touch winded from the tumbling decline. shouldn’t have brought it up is the loud, resounding thought in his head. the scars had been a misstep, one of misunderstanding that still could have been cleared up with a tighter hold and a dip closer, one that spelled out just how dearly shiro wants to let keith in. but he’s muddled it up, instead using words that have dug the hole deeper.

just – bringing mention of another man into their bed? it’s made even stranger by the fact that the other man is technically him.

he flattens his lips together, marginally drawing them inward as he watches keith watch a seemingly fascinating patch of skin near his collarbone. it’s discouraging, both in the way keith shies away from him and in the idea that this shiro’s future holds the possibility that he will never find peace with his past. it’s possible, he supposes, that he does, and simply never breathes a word to anyone about it. unlikely, he thinks shortly thereafter, because keith’s reaction is downtrodden and meek. he doesn’t get better, does he? maybe he even gets worse.

if that isn’t motivation to talk through the mess in his head, he doesn’t know what is. even so, reluctance closes his throat. he’s not ready. he doesn’t know where to start. why did he bring it up if it wasn’t going to go anywhere? ]

I’m still figuring it out myself… maybe he is too. There’s a lot to… unpack. [ it feels odd to talk about himself, like he’s another entity. he is, of course. he isn’t this keith’s shiro. there’s nothing that says he’ll even age into this keith’s shiro. it’s even odder then, to defend the other shiro; to speak on his behalf, as though to soften any hurt feelings keith has when thinking of him. he feels obligated in some small way, because when their sentences are complete, they all go back to their own realities, right? he wants this keith to want to go back to his shiro, too. that’s the shiro he belongs too.

he tries for an encouraging smile, managing to pull off a half-way decent one. ]

And with the war going on, I know he’d wanna keep strong for the team by burying his issues. [ a beat and a forced laugh. ] Fake it until you make it – a flaw of all Shiros it seems.

[ inappropriate laughter tickles his throat. a lot to unpack is an understatement and a half, but what can keith do other than offer a non-committal hum of agreement? again, he won't torture the shiro who isn't "his" shiro with talk of a future that might not apply, no matter how much the lie by omission makes him want to dissociate. gaze still fixed on collar bone, keith exhales slowly. ]

Well. You're stubborn as hell. Wouldn't be you without that.

[ for better or for worse. though meant more affectionately than anything else, keith isn't quite able to muster up the ability to make it sound convincingly cheerful. his shiro vs this shiro. it's the only time they've really acknowledged there's a whole space-time continuum or reality between them, and while it's ... something to have it confirmed they're both dwelling on the same miserable thought that goes nowhere, it leaves nothing but an increasingly bitter aftertaste in keith's mouth. ]

But it's not like we're really a team here. You don't need to be strong for anyone.

[ uh huh. if shiro’s considered stubborn, then what does that make keith? the question is silent, yet amused, the words in his head drawing out an easier smile. it is, unfortunately, only a brief reprieve, and soon enough, he’s back to it, slugging through murky, unhappy thoughts. he does, however, finally do something about keith’s reluctance to look at him. he can’t force him to look, no, but he can draw his hand back to brush his knuckles against the underside of keith’s chin. shaving off another inch by nuzzling his face closer might help too, especially with him now brushing hair from keith’s face to behind his ear. ]

We’re still a team.

[ he reminds gently, voice tired, like he’s had to say this one too many times. he hasn’t though, not aoud. he’s reminded himself of this many times instead. they’re still a team, even though none of the other paladins are from shiro’s timeline and none of them run drills or check in with each other on the daily. they’re still a team because: ]

We still look out for one another. We know we can depend on each other when it counts.

[ and then he’s stalling on the next word, the shift in his expression speaking the contradictory word before he breathes life into it. ]

But maybe you’re right. I’m not leading any of you anymore. The other three seem to be doing fine. You, too.

[ the brush of fingers across his face at least makes keith look up again. shiro is right, of course, that they do all look out for each other, but depending in each other? no. after what happened at the lighthouse, keith is still digging his heels in when it comes to relying on his teammates to do anything that might get them in trouble. he knows better than to say it, of course. keith isn't so antagonizing as to revisit something they've already argued about, nor is he quite callus enough to say anything to make the dismal look on shiro's face spiral even further.

it's ... weird, honestly. so shiro can concede that they're a team in spirit, though perhaps not in practice. but it's how he presents the idea of him no longer being a leader in saddened tones that makes keith really take pause. does he want to lead? does he not know how to be if he's not leading? brow furrowing, keith holds eye contact for an extended beat. ]

...but you're not?

[ wasn't shiro the one making the most progress on his sentence? or is this about something else entirely? either way, after another beat keith raises his other hand, pressing the palm lightly against a broad shoulder. ]

And you know that even if you aren't leading, that doesn't mean you're not important, right?

[ to shiro’s credit, he doesn’t look away. he wants to; the moment the question is finished and out, something inside him shrinks back and the rest of his body wants to follow suit. he hates this feeling of being cornered. there’s care in keith’s voice, as well as his eyes, so shiro doesn’t bristle or shut down as he so often does whenever his well-being is overanalyzed. besides, it’s the logical question to ask when shiro’s been circling around the elephant in the room, hinting but never divulging any solid details about his mental state.

expression knotting up, light and fleeting, with a frown that doesn’t stick, shiro drapes his arm over keith again and holds him comfortably, by the end of his movements, an exhausted little smile fixing to his mouth. ]

I know.

[ it’s sweet in delivery but it tastes bitter. tastes like a lie. ]

I’m okay, Keith. I didn’t mean to insinuate that I’m not.

[ he’s doing well. he’s working through his sheet and checking in with the others from time to time, to ensure they’re navigating prison life well enough. he’s functioning. he’s managing. he’s fine. he sucks in a breath and holds it a second, then two, longer than his usual steady flow, considering his words. keep the reassurances going or shed a touch of honesty?

helps to know you want me in.

he breathes out, thumb high and brushing at the back of keith’s tank, right where it scoops low and borders skin. ]

I guess, it’s just I kind of miss it. The team. The purpose. The being something more than inmate AA0021.

[ sounds sick, doesn’t it? to miss voltron when having voltron means war. ]

[ the concerned look on keith's face stays exactly as until shiro drops the polite brush off and actually gives keith an answer. though keith had been entirely sincere in saying that he doesn't want to avoid anything that shiro's troubled by, he knows the guy carries a lot of demons and he doesn't have the confidence to say he can definitively make anything better.

keith's gaze never leaves shiro's face, but his expression softens with comprehension. as predicted, keith really doesn't know what to say to that. insofar that him and lance have ever talked about the team in that first month when it was just the two of them, they'd both agreed everyone else needed to be back in their reality. certainly the way the others are acting now, keith wouldn't be convinced any of them necessarily miss being a team. miss flying, maybe. miss home, definitely. but the actual team and the purpose the war gave them? keith couldn't say, but probably not.

but taking the focus off of the others, does keith himself miss voltron? "miss" is a tricky word. keith has unfinished business that he wants to see through to the end, but there's sentimental value here that fits a little like a shoe on the wrong foot. keith swallows, drawing a slow circle on the small of shiro''s back. ]

You know nobody can take away everything you've accomplished from you. Or your purpose. You're not AA0021 -- no matter how hard they try. You're Shiro and the leader of Voltron. That'll be true even when the war's won and over.

[ nobody can take away his accomplishments – like galaxy garrison took away his legacy and dragged his name through the mud? and his purpose? these aliens have. he’s the imagined figurehead of a team that is fragmented at best and disbanded at worst. what about aa0021? the galra had a title for him too. champion. that followed him, even with him far away from the arena and the forced bloodlust. sendak called him a broken soldier and sometimes, shiro thinks he’s right. there is no reclaiming of his past self. too many pieces have been carved away and rese into something ugly and unrecognizable.

voltron helped. voltron was the ultimate distraction. five paladins, five lions, and two alteans equipped with a castleship against an intergalactic empire was, truth be told, a pending death sentence. shiro thrived on the impossible odds of winning though. pouring the last shreds of himself into that singular goal kept him on a straight and narrow; not one necessarily to recovery, but a line to salvation. he could become something worthy and just again: shed golden boy and champion, and fit himself with a paladin of voltron. nothing trumps that, right?

but now he’s aa0021. he doesn’t even have his paladin armor here. he has nothing to tie him to who he’d been before. not until he finishes his sentence; not until the others finish their sentences first, actually. then they’ll go home and…

win?

he tries to enjoy the twirling of keith’s fingers, but he’s tense with uncertainty, his mood nowhere high enough to match the smile he forces. ]

Do you really believe that?

[ shiro’s the one with the pep talks and the optimistic speeches. it’s nice, he supposes, to hear keith take over. ]

That we’ll make it out? That we’ll actually win?

[ keith blinks. of course, they've all questioned this at some point or another, but shiro's never been the one to give voice to that doubt. as disconcerting as that is, it's also real, isn't it? keith would never say that shiro's pep talks didn't come from a sincere place, but the fact that he's sharing his doubts is oddly reassuring. whether it's appropriate or not, keith actually relaxes, bumping his forehead lightly to shiro's jaw as he lets out a soft: ]

Heh. We can make it through anything.

[ there are plenty of reasons not to think so. after all, his shiro did die at the conclusion of their battle with zarkon. but he also managed to rescue his shiro from within the black lion's consciousness with allura's aid. it's not the most optimistic of motivations, but it does give keith reason to believe that yes, they can make it out. ]

Can't promise we won't get a little more banged up on the way there, but ... we've got each other to keep things going in the right direction. Never giving up on each other, remember?

[ the optimism is expected. of course keith isn’t going to cut shiro down and say no, he doesn’t believe there’s a victory waiting for them at the end of this. that’s not the part that comforts shiro. it’s the way in which keith frames it: never giving up on each other. the strain around his eyes and his mouth relaxes, the whole of his expression softening from the rush of gratitude, hope, affection.

this close, all it takes is a slight angling of his chin and a puff of exhale for his breath to fan across keith’s bangs. pushing his hand up then, he weaves his fingers into keith’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. ]

Yeah. [ and a softer: ] I remember.

[ he’s smiling, though with the angle, it’s solely for himself. that is until he nudges his face closer and pushes that smile to keith’s forehead. the kiss lands on both skin and hair, but shiro is unbothered by his miscalculated aim, lingering for a solid three beats before pulling back with a soft sound. ]

Thanks, Keith. [ it might be a simple, even inadequate response, but it’s heartfelt. ] It’s easier to believe it… hearing you say it.

[ part of the reason keith hadn't wanted to be leader is the fact that he's never been gifted with words. he can't be trusted to come up with motivational speeches on the fly or recite anything to drump up the will to fight against impossible odds. of course, he meant what he said sincerely, but even so he's still not sure if shiro is so easily reassured.

the press of lips to his forehead at least eases some of that uncertainty in keith's head, but it also makes him laugh inadvertently. who's soothing who? unbelievable. he peeks up, shifting until they're back to seeing eye to eye literally, like that might accomplish the same metaphorically. ]

Hey. You can tell me you're not convinced. I can take it. I'm a big boy, you know.

[ he grins, this time leaning in to press their foreheads together, hand firm on shiro's back. ]

I just... I know there's nothing I can say that'll really take your mind off of everything going on in your head. All I want is for you to know that you really don't have to be alone in it. It's like you said, we're a team. Voltron or not, even if it's just the two of us, we're together.

[ shiro, too, is a Big Boy and as a Big Boy often lies when it comes to doubt and feeling. so no, he will not keep down this road. he took a few baby steps; they felt good and he feels good now too… but he’s done, only allowing himself the comfort of keith’s last reassurances before cutting himself off. hand still cupping the back of keith’s skull, shiro keeps keith close. ]

Yeah. [ he smiles with the word, relief touching his voice. ] We’re together. As a team and… as something else, too.

[ boyfriends comes to mind but such titles feel presumptions. friends with benefits is the next one, but that doesn’t sound right either. they’re somewhere in the middle, undefined. that’s okay though, being their own thing; their relationship has always been unique and unconventional, might as well keep the streak going. he untangles his fingers and smoothes his hand down keith’s nape along his spine. ]

A something that comes with you staying over more often, so we can work on our spooning and kissing, both of which are very important to our something-building.

[ something-building, like team-building, get it? he doesn’t mean to make jokes after a heart-to-heart, it’s just learned deflection. it’s habit. before the moment can settle and start eating away at him for showing his vulnerabilities, he has to change the mood. so excuse him, for smiling and teasing, like he hadn’t been talking about doubting victory and survival three minutes ago.

they’re already close. shiro’s voice continues to drop with each word, eyelids drooping. ]

Actually, we were doing that… [ he angles his face and brushes in. ] … Wanna…?

[ if there’s a response, shiro swallows it up by pressing his mouth to keith’s. that’s how they spend the rest of the evening. trading kisses and kissing more – or deeper, depending on who is asked – both boys have pink, kiss-swollen lips by the time they relax into an easy embrace, both settling in for a good night’s rest. however, they do not, in fact, practice their spooning, which is why keith will wake up to a hand on his ass, fingers clutching one cheek. ]

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