[ shiro’s a planner. looking at a situation from all sides, anticipating all needs, preparing for the worst, yeah, he likes to map things out so he’s never caught wrong-footed. though, considering the last couple of years, no amount of prepping managed to keep him from disaster. so perhaps he should have expected it all to go wrong here. popsicles; of all things popsicles are his undoing. they’re sweet, innocent treats, made more with children in mind and yet, shiro’s smile dims right around the time keith leans forward with lips parted.
… he didn’t think this through.
the first flick has his brain catching on the word wait. the long drag of his tongue up, up, up the length of the popsicle has him moving onto oh. and it’s then that he puts two and two together. the shape, the curve, the general size of the popsicle -- why the fuck does it look like that? he opens his mouth with nothing to say. there’s a start stop, start stop rhythm to his mind and he sits there staring, entirely forgetting about drips, because like hell he’s paying attention to his own popsicle.
he needs to say something though. or blink. anything, really. struck stupid as he is, he does realize he can’t openly gawk without the risk of embarrassing himself.
… which is exactly when keith decides to slide his mouth halfway down the popsicle, swallowing those three colors like it’s completely natural. right. normal -- nothing to see here. except, that’s when a word finally tumbles out of his still open mouth. ]
Woah. [ one tick, two tick, thr-- ] I mean. [ he catches it too late and feels himself warm because of it. that’s the extent of his recovery though. there’s no forthcoming explanation and immediately, he starts fumbling on the inside, trying to put together something that makes sense, other than the embarrassing truth.
he’s still staring. he’s still a little too stupid and a lot too wanting. so he thinks six colors with keith downing three, mumbling a borderline dazed: ] You said you liked all the flavors together.
no subject
… he didn’t think this through.
the first flick has his brain catching on the word wait. the long drag of his tongue up, up, up the length of the popsicle has him moving onto oh. and it’s then that he puts two and two together. the shape, the curve, the general size of the popsicle -- why the fuck does it look like that? he opens his mouth with nothing to say. there’s a start stop, start stop rhythm to his mind and he sits there staring, entirely forgetting about drips, because like hell he’s paying attention to his own popsicle.
he needs to say something though. or blink. anything, really. struck stupid as he is, he does realize he can’t openly gawk without the risk of embarrassing himself.
… which is exactly when keith decides to slide his mouth halfway down the popsicle, swallowing those three colors like it’s completely natural. right. normal -- nothing to see here. except, that’s when a word finally tumbles out of his still open mouth. ]
Woah. [ one tick, two tick, thr-- ] I mean. [ he catches it too late and feels himself warm because of it. that’s the extent of his recovery though. there’s no forthcoming explanation and immediately, he starts fumbling on the inside, trying to put together something that makes sense, other than the embarrassing truth.
he’s still staring. he’s still a little too stupid and a lot too wanting. so he thinks six colors with keith downing three, mumbling a borderline dazed: ] You said you liked all the flavors together.