[ Keith has been through a lot in the last couple of years. He knows how to handle infiltrating an enemy base, how to navigate between two black holes without being crushed to dust. Hell, even an all out alien invasion wouldn't be so daunting. This is not something he's equipped to handle.. Curse being too much of a spitfire to know how to deal with handsiness except by a swift grab and yank maneuver to dispatch a dislocated thumb with surgical efficacy.

But this is Shiro and as messed up as it is, that kiss to his brow spins him a little off kilter, dizzy with mixed feelings that clash, collide and whatever train of thought Keith had just stands no chance of sticking. It's just Shiro in his head. Shiro and his own racing nerves from what ... anxiety? Anticipation?

You want a lot of things. Anything you want.

Fuck. His internal monologue is useless here. Shiro's right -- he does want a lot of things. Contrary, demanding things. Keith swallows hard as Shiro's hand finds his ass, trying to stay focused on the bigger picture: the powder. ]


Okay. [ He breathes out, gently pulling that hand off his backside. ] C'mon, big guy. You're distracting me. Let's get in the shower then. Gotta do something about that Christmas elf hair of yours.

[ Maybe washing the powder off of Shiro will help??? Keith couldn't say if it'd work or not considering he's still caked in powder and he's (mostly???) back to his senses, but a better course of action is eluding him. ]