takashi shirogane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
earthshine) wrote2023-02-05 05:32 am
earthshine) wrote2023-02-05 05:32 am
⊚ noctium ic contact.
« Shiro »
TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION
Takashi Shirogane ✦ Voltron: Legendary DefenderRESIDENCE ✦ Emerald District Apartment #51
JOB ✦ Gembond Guardian
GEMBOND ✦ Sapphire
Hi, this is Shiro. Sorry I'm unavailable at the moment, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA
make it a reality. shiro fully supports this.
the closet idea is ludicrous. he understands that. half serious, half joking, he’d been hoping to accomplish… something with it, not that he can even adequately describe what. it’s backfired though. now, he’s faced with the very real scenario of him ripping the closet apart to get out. to get at keith. what is he supposed to do with that knowledge? make another bad joke about how, yes, he’ll punch his way out and hopefully, he’ll take out keith’s trash jacket in the process?
he hates this. he thinks this is the lowest point in his hate that he’s had for this place. right here, right now, so much of this feels like keith doesn’t -- care? like, whatever happens to keith doesn’t matter. the sentiment isn’t new by any means. shiro’s familiar enough with keith’s self-sabotaging and frankly, detached perception for his own well-being.
if something happens, it happens. right.
why isn’t he concerned? why isn’t he angry? twenty minutes ago, shiro had been fretting over the possibility of keith being uncomfortable enough to command shiro to leave and now, he almost wishes keith wouldn’t smile, wouldn’t laugh in that half-stuck, half-engaged way of his. shiro doesn’t want a free-pass. that makes this so much worse.
so if keith refuses to get angry, guess shiro will on his behalf. fuck all, someone needs to. ]
It shouldn’t be that easy. [ staring at the careful fold of keith’s arms, shiro frowns slow, each beat having his features tightening until he’s one stop short of glaring. he wanted this -- he tries to remind himself that he wanted them to be okay. he shouldn’t be prodding deeper and stirring a pot that should be left the fuck alone.
and yet -- he huffs and he’s on his feet, looking down at keith. ]
Why are you…
[ don’t get mad at him. shiro’s the one at fault here. if he looks beyond that statement, all the reasons as to why shiro isn’t the blame are there to examine. but he’s stubborn and he’s mad and he’s… afraid, honestly. he steps away from keith then, shaking his head as he rounds the coffee table. ]
If you end up forcing yourself on me, Shiro, no big deal. [ mocking, that’s the best way to describe his tone. it doesn’t last though and soon he’s just tired from the chaotic tumble of his thoughts. around the table and closer to the television stand against the opposite wall, he briefly covers his face with his hands, rubbing his palms hard, as though to physically dispel the tension. ]
I was thinking things, Keith. [ don’t you get it, is the unspoken part. one last rub and then he drops his hands, gaze to the floor. ] I wanted to do things to you.
[ a great many, unmentionable things that might have come to pass if they’d actually made it into the shower. ]
how is this the one thing they apparently agree on...
what really kicks that into overdrive is the sardonic shade that comes right after. keith is up on his feet in an instant, hands balled into fists at his sides and glaring across the room. ]
What the hell. [ the counter accusation is snapped. even considering his shitty wording, is that really the conclusion shiro's drawn here? never mind that shiro's dictating the fucking obvious to him like he's a child who doesn't know what sexual intent is. ]
You think I don't know you have a dick or something?
bc they're stupid...?
chin dipped, he eyes keith from lowered, narrowed lashes and he scoffs, tipping his head up on the tailend of that sound. he rolls his eyes up toward the ceiling and adopts keith’s earlier stance of grumpy, crossed arms. ]
Right. You figured me out. [ that dismissive tone is back, both bitter and mocking. the whole problem started when keith brushed this off as a nothing. nothing to see here, nothing to think about, what happens, happens. no biggie? now keith makes it worse by dumbing down the argument into a question so idiotic that it’s actually insulting.
if keith doesn’t want to take this concern seriously, then fine, forget it. ] That’s what I think.
/o\
Why are you trying to make me mad at you? The hell is this accomplishing?
[ but the wheels are turning in his mind as he speaks, and an answer clicks into place. keith narrows his eyes, hands settling on his hips. where there'd been heat to his tone before, it very abruptly takes on the qualities of siberian winter. ]
Oh. I get it. You're trying to goad me into telling you to leave.
[ what else would it be other than this fucking unresolved issue all over again. ]
i hate shiro.
maybe he hasn’t changed at all. once upon a time, he had an outlook that refused to bend for compromise. shiro thought, maybe, he outgrew it when duty became more important than shiro’s dreams for himself. for a time, they even aligned. voltron meant something to him; still does. but the team became more important than shiro himself and more specifically, keith took centerfold. here, he thinks the desire to keep keith safe an’ focused on a certain pathway has twisted so much in his head that he’s actually mangled it into something unrecognizable.
perhaps even something cruel.
the fight doesn’t disappear but his expression shutters and then he’s looking to the floor, the slightest drawing in of his shoulders. shame? yeah, the movement holds a lot of that. he knows he’s wrong; has known it since he first stood up. but-- ]
I only want to protect you.
[ from him? and isn’t that fucking rich? he takes it back -- he has changed. now he’s exactly what he hated all those years when he had dreams and a gaze stubbornly set on the stars. so now he’s the person who shelters and smothers and decides what’s best for someone else. who is he even anymore? how long can he blame it on death and being brought back to a body, to a world he feels completely out of depth in?
nonetheless, his voice has a wavering tilt to it -- petulant, partly, and mostly uncertain. not uncertain of wanting the best for keith, no of course not, but hesitating on whether that’s something he’s even allowed to say. ]
he deserves a spanking
but there isn't further elaboration beyond what shiro's stated, so keith has to stare down the bitter conclusion that he actually had been correct then. shiro isn't giving him anything, no denial, not even plausible deniability now that he can see shiro shrinking into his shoulders and .... ah. the knot in his stomach is gone, but it's replaced by something heavier, a bone deep exhaustion and a nice sprinkling of disappointment to top it off.
the scowling breaks then, but it feels like a whole lot more broke with it. this time, keith doesn't fight the lurch of vertigo and drops himself down on the couch, elbows propped up on his knees, forehead pressed to his palms as fingers briefly dig into his scalp. ]
We're just... never gonna move past this, are we.
[ the words come up unbidden on the back of exasperation. his regret is instant. why the hell did he give that a voice? stupid. keith sucks in a deep breath, then forces himself to look up. ]
Shiro. [ his throat clamps up, forcing a pause and a swallow. ] If that's what you want, maybe you should just be locking me in the closet. You're not the only one here who was affected by powder. Hell, it could have been anyone on the street today that got splashed with red. And I... [ again, he hates just about everything about that, but he's already said as much. sighing, he gets back up on his feet to pace around the coffee table, unable to sit still after the adrenaline spike of their fight. ]
Look. I don't want anything like that to happen because of some stupid powder. But if it has to happen, all I'm saying is that I would prefer that it happened with you.
[ he lets that one hang in the air for a moment, eyes on the floorboards rather than shiro. but given everything that's been said, it's pretty clear that's not a mutual sentiment. rather than give shiro a chance to respond, he presses forward. this time, keith does make eye contact. ]
But none of that's important. If you want to leave, just... go. I want you to stay , but I'm not gonna force you to.
whack him hard keet
the pain radiating off of keith is almost palpable. shiro can just about convince himself that he can feel it in the suffocating nature of the room. heck, he can hear it in his voice, see it in that broken hunch -- what shakes the swirling undercurrent of his dismal thoughts is seeing that they’re dragging keith down with him. always hurting him. always causing him pain. somewhere along the way from galaxy garrison to here, shiro stopped being keith’s rock and in turn became his anchor, one destined to pull him down so deep that he drowns with all of shiro’s burdens.
he doesn’t want that. he can’t have that. he refuses to do that to keith. so here he… tries. it takes a swallow and a steadying breath, but he brings himself back enough to formulate a quiet: ]
I don’t know why I keep doing this.
[ admitting it aloud has anxiety spiking and he glances to the door on instinct. his feet stay rooted though and he makes no indication of wanting to move beyond the glance. soon enough, he swallows and shakes his head, looking to keith and then right back to the floor. ]
I’m not… -- I don’t want to go. I want to be with you.
[ here, in their -- home? he’s hesitant to name it that. he keeps thinking this is temporary but now there’s a closet full of clothes, taken hiding spots and a cat. they’re building something here. ]
But I start thinking about what’s happened and what could happen and... [ he curls his fingers into his biceps and hugs himself tighter, knowing that he isn’t explaining any of this with any real justice. he has faith that keith will get it though -- he has a knack for understanding shiro when shiro doesn't even fully understand himself. this time, is it shame that keeps his gaze lowered? no. stubbornness? not that either. actually, it’s a slip in attention and a running of curiosity, because there’s something keith said before. i would prefer that it happened with you. it makes sense considering the world and keith's general disdain for strangers. but… it touches deeper inside him and the whole of him brims with the half-delirious idea of a them. brief, temporary, whatever.
… is that -- good? for them? for what shiro has decided their friendship to be? he doesn’t know and he can’t know, not right now, not when his head is already a mess. so he never quite manages an answer for himself and then he slips in concentration again, instead rounding back to how he needs to give keith something more than indecision and false leads. he thinks maybe he’s pressing his luck. keith doesn’t do patience. he tries when it comes to shiro -- which shiro is both grateful and proud of him for -- however, shiro knows that if he continues to give keith nothing in return, that steady presence will inevitably disappear.
in the end, it’s all for naught. he can’t put words to how he's just as lost to what his own end game is. ]
I don’t know what I’m doing.
[ he reiterates and looks up, peeking at keith. ]
and then kiss it better. one day.
but then .... it's kinda relatable, isn't it? the war demanded decisiveness, a tacit acceptance of collateral damage and the recognition that inaction was also an action. with that kind of pressure lifted away, it's opened up so much more room to overanalyze every little detail that obscures the bigger picture.
I want to be with you. I love you, too. I'm sorry I made it seem like I'd forgotten.
keith knows all of these things and yet .... he stops looking at shiro then, gaze shifting down to where his hand is clenched tight into a fist. it's disorienting all over again to think that shiro had unwillingly kissed his hand half an hour ago. pushing that thought aside, keith breathes in deeply.
they're a team. always have been, always will be. but like with any team, it's only as strong as the conviction they have in each other. it'd been that way with voltron as well, hadn't it? shiro was as effective as he was because the entire team was there to lift him up. maybe keith isn't doing enough lifting here. maybe shiro would doubt him less if he stopped letting the past unravel the things he knows are true.
he breathes out slowly, letting that resolve saturate. then, he walks over to where shiro is standing. he takes another step into his best friend's personal space, and in the next beat sets his hands on both shoulders. ]
Then trust me a little. You're making this complicated. [ a squeeze and then: ] I meant what I said. I'm going to support you, no matter what tricks these so-called detieis pull.
yes. one day there will be kisses................... "one day"
he does trust keith though, especially when it comes to understanding his own needs and limits.
even so, his lips remain sealed to protest and his gaze unlifted despite the buzzing awareness of keith’s squeeze and palpable desperation for shiro to engage. there’s a slight nodding of his head as the silence settles and then he lifts his hand. no, not one -- he’s going for both. he can silently admit to himself that he still has no idea what he’s doing and that he still doesn’t feel solid footed in the least, but palms brush and then he curls his fingers, wrapping them around the low end of keith’s forearms for two loose clasps.
if he can’t give keith words to hold onto, maybe answering holds will do? honestly, it’s more selfish than that. it’s grounding for shiro and a physical tapping of strength that he draws from keith in order to finally drive his gaze up to peek at the other man. ]
Okay.
[ quiet, yet resolute, at least his voice has strength to it that can be depended on. there’s a pause there, as though the thought isn’t complete and he’s going to clarify something beyond a one word answer. however, the moment lapses and then he obviously changes route by abruptly abandoning the somber air for his shitty defense mechanism. ]
Listen to Keith more and stop being a moron… [ his head is still slightly ducked, as though he hasn’t centered himself enough to fully level it for his usual confidence. a smile touches his lips though and it’s crooked. playful, maybe, albeit slightly strained. ]
The second part might be a bit of a tall order but I think I can manage.
this feels bad.
but keith isn't actually ready to let this go. shiro had been quick to flare up to anger and keith knows all too well that putting a smile on this quickly doesn't actually mean the issue's been resolved. perhaps that's just how it is. there isn't actually any way for either of them to make the root of the problem go away. but the aftermath and the consequences? that, at least, is something they might actually have some control over. ]
Shiro, I'm serious.
[ and as if to punctuate that, keith slides one hand up to cup shiro's cheek. pay attention to me is what that is. an entirely embarrassing sentiment, all things considered, but keith is determined to make a point. he shaves another half-step from the distance between them, looking shiro dead in the eye from just a little too close. ]
It's not a big deal unless we make it that.
[ and right now, standing like this, with the tip of his nose mere centimeters away from touching shiro's ... this isn't a big deal, is it? ]
good luck.
being irresponsible is supposed to be that easy. but it’s not. of course it’s not. because keith is predictably unpredictable and for how well shiro lets himself believe he knows his best friend, there’s still those moments when he’s irrevocably thrown for a loop. like now.
there’s movement in the form of a cupped cheek and then keith steals more space. shiro blinks up, gazing filling and thoughts flat-lining on a low oh. distantly, he can follow the thread. he sees this for what it is. it’s a power move of taking control of their lives. choice is a luxury that comes and goes here, so in those pockets of reprieve, it’s their chance to decide for themselves. is it truly a choice though? isn’t this all manufactured and forced by the what if that may come tomorrow, next week, next month? or perhaps never.
how is this a good plan?
right. trust keith. that’s the plan, isn’t it? keith acts like he knows what he’s doing. but shiro doesn’t buy it. leaping before looking. acting before thinking. so reckless, not only with himself, but with shiro too. the frustration doesn’t quite manifest into anything substantial though and shiro merely wades through the awareness of it, staring a beat longer before finally dealing with… whatever this is.
he leans in. barely. those last centimeters close and shiro nudges their noses together. a slow, lazy nuzzle follows and shiro pointedly ignores the dizzying circle of his thoughts. warm. smooth. soft. he’s trying to make a point here, one centered on the fact that keith doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. this is powder round two, except with clear heads -- is this better? does it feel fine? yes. no. no.
he flexes his fingers still wrapped around keith’s forearm -- his other arm having let go of the hand now on his cheek -- squeezing, part keeping keith close and part warning him to back off. ]
This doesn’t feel like a big deal to you?
[ and he tips closer, encroaching an’ domineering. mouth close enough now that he can taste keith’s breath on the next exhale and -- fuck. he started by wanting to teach keith something? that he’s in over his head? that it’s not that simple? this is too weird to even try? he’s lost sight of the plot. all he knows is this is another half-baked, terrible idea… which is why keith should pull away. ]
that icon is STILL murdering me
but the question leaves more than just passive impressions. keith eyes haven't strayed from shiro's and that mocking jab is the catalyst that warps what had been wrongfully sweet and tender in the bathroom into a fucking challenge. you just have that kind of effect on me, was it? fuck that. shiro is toying with him, testing his resolve because he still isn't taking keith seriously.
the disheartening part of that is that it's not even surprising anymore. how many times is keith going to have to say the same fucking thing before it even halfway sticks in shiro's head? ten times? a thousand? will keith even have a voice left over by the end of it?
as much as keith isn't used to anyone, including shiro, encroaching this far into his personal space, keith doesn't flinch away or blush. because if shiro's attitude isn't surprising, you can damn well bet that it's infuriating and that cuts through the bullshit of flustered nerves like an ion cannon. ]
That's what I said, isn't it.
[ as with most things keith, the irritable defiance isn't subtle. his brows knit together, the retort fired back in tones a stone's throw away from being outright growled. the look in his eyes is likewise set with gritty determination, focused, like he's surveying a battlefield rather than an equally defiant shiro.
in the next beat, his gloved hand tightens around the angle of shiro's jaw and keith pushes up to press their lips together in a quick, decisive motion. under a different set of circumstances, he might have pulled back immediately, leaving the kiss fleeting and chaste, but right now whatever part of him that's jittery and nervous about shit like first kisses and first kisses with shiro is overwhelmingly drowned out by something else.
no, this isn't a big deal and he doesn't fucking care how long their lips are going to have to stay glued together for shiro to get the damn point. ]
i refuse to scroll up to ever see that icon again.
push him away? weather the inevitable fallout and hope for the best in mending the broken pieces of their friendship?
stay and wait him out? don’t reciprocate but let keith take what he needs before the argument is reiterated and lines are recemented?
or… respond. is that even an option to consider?
the thing is -- the world hasn’t ended, right? their friendship has survived through gossip, separation, expectation, and death. stolen identity and attempted murder is there too, he supposes. so what’s his problem? why would he think that after all that, they would buckle under the strain of intimacy? perhaps because shiro’s out of practice and hesitant of it in a way his tactile nature would never suggest. all this talk about not wanting to make keith uncomfortable -- shiro’s there too. again, his powdered acts come into focus and he thinks they weren’t isolated, fabricated acts. the colors leeched from a bank of repressed feelings. that’s why he’s so wound tight about all of this, because at world’s edge he’d been looking and on the roof he’d been feeling and he doesn’t want to think about the implications of any of it.
two ticks? three. fuck, what’s his decision?
he gives in. unsurprising; he always inevitably does. keith has no idea how much power he has over him, does he? he’s got that magnetic pull to him and a finesse to beat every odd stacked up against him. apparently, being able to entrap the last functioning brain cells of one takashi shirogane is a skill keith has unknowingly mastered by merely being his stubborn, hardheaded, forever infuriating self. fuck, he loves him despite the faults, even this boldness. the anger is there too though and… that’s not what he wants for keith.
his own frustration simmers low and doesn’t rise to meet keith’s. instead, shiro goes in the opposite direction. he softens under the strain and shifts his feet, centering his weight to offset him touching his hand to keith’s waist. it slips around to find the small of his back. the other hand at keith’s forearm skims down his arm and then abandons it altogether to grasp at his nape. he tugs briefly at the flyaway strands that grow too long before flattening his palm, cupping the back of his head.
there. now, about him being out of practice.
the angle is all wrong. noses together and lips mashed too close, it’s aggressive, almost violent, and again, shiro thinks not like this. instead, he thinks soft, gentle, make it good. because if they’re here and set on doing this, then at the very least, they deserve a kiss representative of what they mean to each other. for shiro? keith is a precious someone and he tries to convey that in the tilt of his head an’ sweetening of pressure.
it’s a bit of a disaster, at least the start and this slow rebounding, but shiro is fading fast anyway. keith fills his senses and steals his breath and hell, he forgot how good it could feel to be this close to someone. it’s too much and yet not enough and keith’s mouth -- it’s plush and molded to his and if shiro just parts his own to tease with the barest hint of moist heat, maybe they can try…
he makes a noise in the back of his throat and he draws keith closer with his hand there in the dip of his spine. the gem is there. distantly, he thinks it and then it has him smiling the faintest bit, palm rubbing slow in half-distraction, as though trying to pinpoint it, before finally settling for a hold that has keith pressed close hip to chest. ]
it's the best icon you should want to see it everywhere
it's downright humiliating, actually. he thought for sure shiro would at least shove him away or get mad. it's here and now that keith realizes that no reaction whatsoever is the worst outcome he should have been braced for. is this really not even worth responding to?? when he tears himself away, is shiro still going to be making that blindingly judgmental face at him? shit. maybe he should just call it quits, but some dogged persistence has his grip tightening slightly around shiro's face. he won't back down from this, and if it's about attrition then fine. anything to change the status quo shiro has dug his heels into.... for better or for worse. it's too late to back down and he won't second guess this now.
luckily, it isn't long before there is a reaction, and the arm circling his waist makes keith freeze. the blink of confusion is purely metaphorical here, but practically tangible all the same. then there's the hand winding down his arm and draping over his neck, the gentle drag of warm lips across his own as shiro... corrects (???) their positioning.
the swoop hits hard and low in his stomach. it's the most delayed of delayed reactions, and keith mentally scrambles with what to do now that shiro's outpaced the plan. ....if this can even be called a plan to begin with... which arguably, it never was. maybe it'd just been a wish all along.
Shiro
he mouths the name wordlessly against shiro's lips, the hand resting on his shoulder now winding up and over to press between shoulder blades. is it okay to want this? keith had caught himself wondering idly, but has never allowed the question to progress further than a quick mental shake and berating. this isn't how they feel about each other, after all. but this is different. this is something they're doing of their own volition, no powder, no malachite, just the two of them in their apartment with the rest of the world a collection of irrelevant noise. but maybe he shouldn't be so quick to be placated here. for all he knows, shiro could take a step back and repeat that same smug question.
This doesn’t feel like a big deal to you?
the part of him that's dizzy, light and tingling from all the places they're touching is a little breathless, high on some kind of rush from the tentative connection they're forging here. the part of him that's still ruffled and irked isn't satisfied. he still doesn't know what the hell, he's doing when it comes to kisses, but that isn't going to deter him from making more of a damn point.
tongues. something about tongues and the french. whatever the hell the french have to do with kissing.
keith parts his lips. is this embarrassing? yes. it still isn't stopping him from experimentally licking shiro's lip though. ]
no i hate it. just gimme more sheith icons.
this whole thing is backwards anyway. upside down too. it’s a mess of miscommunication and forced expectations, leaving shiro to feel as though he’s lost what little control he’s held. he may be physically anchoring keith to him, but he doesn’t feel like the leader here. are either of them? maybe not, but shiro still thinks keith has the better of him, because keith’s got him ensnared and trailing, hooked on the taste of his mouth. this all boils down to what keith is doing to him and that’s... sobering. there’s that wait again, but then the warning lapses; there’s too much hazy want feeding into the loop for him to draw himself away.
and then there’s his tongue.
all it takes is one tentative brush. keith’s already taken his mouth and shiro offers the rest of it up freely, lips mildly slack, mildly sloppy on the push an’ drag as he touches his tongue to keith’s. he gathers keith closer next, only in the sense that fingers tighten in hair, teasing the wetness out of strands that for once aren’t a tangled mess. another tilt to change the angle and he exhales heavy into the space between their mouths, tongue pressing, swiping --
he feels warm. it’s there in the flush of his cheeks and color across his nose. his head feels stuffy from it, heady too. in the span of two breaths, he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself or keith or the situation as a whole. either way, he can’t say puffing out a breathless moan around the wet sound of their mouths is helping him figure it out any faster. ]
you may get more depending on how this goes pfff
but this doesn't feel invasive at all. if anything, it comes distressingly close to a couple of terrible cliches about firsts that keith refuses to accept he may be a little susceptible to. he's angry -- he hasn't forgotten that despite shiro's machinations, damn it. fingers dig into shiro's back in some show of force as keith leans a little further into the kiss. whether that should be interpreted as a don't let me go or some roundabout way of saying fuck you while his mouth is occupied is up for debate.
you want a lot of things is what shiro had accused him of in the bathroom. keith well and truly doesn't have any rebuttal for that anymore. it's hard to want when you don't know what you're missing and well... whether keith wants to admit it or not, his entire being feels as though it's splitting into contradictory elements: airy but grounded, warm but not warm enough, safe and yet.. kinda terrified of what'll happen when the kissing stops.
at least the short term solution for that last one seems obvious enough: don't stop kissing. of course, that's not an actual solution at all, but his inner cynic abandons ship, thoughts sputtering into radio static when shiro breathes that soft ah into the kiss.
fuck it. if this is potentially the one and only time keith can have this, then he wants to hoard it all. the way shiro tastes, feels and sounds. it's unfair really -- shiro just has to be incredible in so many ways. heart racing, keith kisses in earnest, each movement an unspoken I want you. maybe that should make him madder, huh? pissed off or not, it just doesn't seem to make a difference.
instead here he is, pushing up onto his toes to get a better angle to kiss. whatever limited self awareness that stokes however, disappears when there's an accidental bump of teeth. it isn't painful, but just jarring enough that keith pulls back. ]
Oh. [ cheeks flushing crimson, keith quickly looks away and mumbles: ] My bad.
this is too much pressure
it isn’t like that. this doesn’t mean that. however, kissing keith is kickstarting the awareness that he isn’t beyond wanting to share himself with someone. it’s been a long thing coming, really. fucking manna. every evening of set aside time to hold hands has become less an’ less of a chore and more of something to enjoy. throw in every hug held longer than necessary and that one night he settled into keith’s bed, for once sleeping through until morning. it’s been -- nice. wonderful, even. having someone to come home to… there’s something incredibly grounding about knowing there’s that solid presence ready to reach out and hold on the moment he starts to falter. so maybe he’s been thinking about it the wrong way. maybe he hasn’t made himself stronger by denying a deeper connection with someone. so maybe he does need someone back in his life. and by someone, perhaps he really means…
that thought is terrifying. here though, the two of them close, breathing the same air, sharing the same warmth -- it has him thinking it’s exhilarating too. it’s almost like driving a hoverbike straight off a cliff. caution to the wind, it’s horrifying on the first drop, when gravity takes over and adrenaline kicks in. but it’s freeing too. all it takes is getting the timing right and then everything comes together just right to have the hoverbike leveling away from disaster. they’re friends. they’ll always be friends. but maybe they could --
except here, it isn’t leveling out at the last second. here, it’s like slamming face first into an explosion of dirt and sand. there’s hardly any pain to it. it’s just a bad angle that clips wrong but keith pulls back and the collateral damage has shiro losing the thread of his thoughts as everything in him immediately turns toward concern. briefly, that is. as soon as he flutters his eyes open and has keith coming into sharp focus, that concern for chipped teeth broadens for the more general oh shit, what did they just finish doing?
forget kissing. he made out with keith. that on top of what he’d just been thinking…
talk about getting caught up in the moment. the excuse doesn’t sit quite right but shiro barrels on before he can analyze every which way it fits wrong. ]
It’s -- fine.
[ the pause in-between doesn’t help his cause. he pulls in a lungful of air, feeling the slightest bit winded -- from kissing, from panic, from surprise… one of those. all of those? either way, he can feel the tension knotting in his shoulders and he tries to expel it with the following exhale. staring at keith’s carefully averted gaze and reddening face is difficult but what’s downright lethal is the way his gaze drops to the fullness of a ruddy mouth that’s a little wet and a little ruined.
ah, fuck.
he forces his gaze toward the ceiling and distracted on trying not to think about the obvious, he tongues at the tooth that suffered the brunt of keith’s miscalculation. two seconds in and he thinks tongue and more specifically, where it had just been. abruptly, he hides his tongue behind his teeth and looks back to keith with a half-hysteric smile that’s only barely winced. ]
No, uh. [ pause. try again. ] No harm done?
[ why the hell is that coming out as a question? and why hasn’t he realized he still has a hand in keith’s hair and a hand around his waist? detangling would be a good idea right about now… if he wasn’t a moron with a slow moving brain, that is. ]
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god, he botched this one pretty badly huh? but that begs the question of why it should even matter if shiro thinks he's awful at kissing. the obvious, defiant answer is that it doesn't matter in the slightest. the point, insofar that there was ever a point, was to prove shiro wrong and well -- mission accomplished??
keith peeks up very cautiously, ready to look away again if shiro happens to be looking at him. mercifully, shiro seems to be preoccupied with the ceiling, but it dawns on keith a beat later that this skittishness is familiar and not in a good way. shit, all that's missing is some giggling behind hands and he'd fit right in with all the other cadets making goo goo eyes over a crush.
wait, no. no that's not a train of thought he wants to entertain while their arms are still wound around each other like this. but then... he doesn't not want to be bundled up like this either. especially while shiro's smiling in that relatable awkward way and that look he hated so much from before is gone. ]
...oh.
[ the syllable is faint, breathed out on a soft exhale that's almost on the verge of a nervous laugh. he won't giggle, damn it. but as flushed as he still is, he relaxes a little, slowly dragging his hand down from shiro's cheek to press the corner of that smile with his thumb. maybe the embarrassment is alright if it means he gets to look at shiro like this for a little bit. there's more that he should say to this, so much more than he knows how to put words to, but he lowers his gaze, leaning into hide a smile of his own in shiro's shoulder. ]
Good thing you're made of tough stuff then.
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give him a physical hurdle to throw himself over or lay out xyz for him to pick apart an’ formulate an attack plan around. that’s easy. mentally, emotionally dragging down his defenses though, he’s never been well-suited for honesty when it comes to himself. this here is about being open to the idea, no the fact that he wants something. something from keith. with keith? hell, he can’t even get the wording right; he’s backpedaling in his own head and it just strengthens the argument that he’s so far from tough in this situation.
unlike keith.
he’s kind of inspiring in that way. the thought holds as shiro relaxes in slow increments and sags more comfortably from the straight-rod fluster a moment ago. his hands keep as they are and he swallows audibly, mentally bolstering some levity so that it -- hopefully -- comes out in his voice. ]
Have to be.
[ it doesn’t quite hit the mark. there’s a hint of emotion in his voice, one that drags the usual, steady timber lower, adding a strained sort of hoarseness to it. keith is just -- he’s the tough one. the brave one. the one who can endure any situation thrown at him, whether that’s by design of an alien empire, a petulant god or shiro’s long trailing baggage. keith’s reckless, sure, but he’s strong in his daring nature and sometimes shiro thinks that somewhere along the way, he stopped being the teacher. more and more, shiro finds himself learning how to be more than the broken soldier he became, all of which is largely due to keith’s guidance and support in his unending campaign rightfully dubbed stop shiro from being a self-destructive moron.
amusement follows that thought. faint as it is, it still helps settle his nerves and he tips his head, resting his cheek on that mop of hair. briefly, he closes his eyes, holding onto the feeling just as he continues to hold onto keith. ]
I’ve gotta keep up with you.
[ better. that comes out lighter. happier. he doesn’t keep clinging to it though. eyes open and head lifts off keith’s. then he gives keith’s lower back a gentle, parting pat before resting his palm loosely at his waist. as for the hand in keith’s hair? it’s found its way to his rear delt, pressure light, neither pushing away nor keeping keith there against him. ]
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i've gotta keep up with you. it's stated with such disarming levity that it'd be easy to let it drift past with the current of the conversation, but it sticks out just enough that it gently bumps keith from his more incredulous yet pleased state of mind.
the phrase doesn't sound right at all. from the very start, shiro's always been the one with the accolades, the feats, the golden reputation. the list of incredible things that shiro's accomplished has only grown even more daunting since the day they met. certainly, they've far outstripped the days when shiro could render keith speechless with jaw dropping awe over pulling off a stunt like cliff diving on a hoverbike.
but of course, shiro is far more than what he's able to do or what he's able to give. the person behind it all is ... frustrating, stubborn, exasperating, yes. far more so than keith had previously imagined. all the same, keith huffs in amusement as both hands shift to more loosely cradle shiro's torso. ]
Okay. I'll pump the brakes. Just for you, big guy.
[ he looks up, still smiling on the playful tease. no attempt to pull further apart is made, but there isn't any clinging either. it's weird to hear shiro suggesting he's the one doing the chasing now, but it makes the spot behind his ribs feel just a little fuller. and to think, no stolent cars were involved this time. ]
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eyes rounding, lips parting -- surprise flickers across his expression and the fluster follows swiftly behind. he’s hardly had any time to recover from the heat that filled him when keith’s mouth was on his, so it doesn’t take much for it to come back full force. again, it touches his cheeks and his nose, the scar etched across standing in bright contrast. self-preservation is always a slow moving thing with him and so, it’s only after a long, pointed delay of staring at keith’s sweet smile an’ tease-lit eyes that shiro remembers himself.
hide would be optimal. he does a half-ass job of it though. he merely ducks his face and inwardly squirms on the fluttery, dumb feeling running rampent somewhere between his chest an’ gut. this is three times now. first, keith had been coaxing him toward a shared shower. second, it had followed a teasing urge to be good. before, shiro said he liked being called it and here, he finds he still likes it, clear-headed an’ all. it makes him wonder -- would keith like the affectionate name shiro gave him back in the bathroom too?
baby. that’s… not something friends say to each other at all.
he’s likely imagining it, but his face feels warmer in the span of one beat to the next. still, even though he’s rivaling the color of keith’s godawful jacket, that fluttery feeling is pleasant in its sweetness. it has him smiling despite all his reservations. soft and even a little shy, the smile stays and shiro glances up, peeking at keith from under lowered lashes. ]
You, willingly slowing down? [ there’s the answering tease in his voice. the beat that follows is punctuated by shiro briefly gnawing on his bottom lip, part out of indecision. you must really like me is the follow-up that’s on the tip of his tongue but… considering what just happened not five minutes ago, that’s… unfitting? insensitive? crossing a line? in the end, it doesn’t matter. instead of shiro’s voice picking up, there’s an annoyed meow from below.
shiro loses his train of thought and the shy expression on a hard blink as he looks to the floor to find the cat. all of a sudden, it seems to dawn on him that they’re standing in the middle of their apartment, hoarding each other’s space with full-body presses and unwavering grips. another meow and an accompanying tug of claws at his boot buckles has shiro finally releasing an’ pulling back from keith. he clears his throat as he goes and settles into a safer smile that reads friendly, rather than… whatever he’d been feeling ten seconds ago. ]
Call me a skeptic. [ detangled and free, he ignores how that airy feeling softens on misplaced disappointment. him crouching down to smooth his hand over the cat’s head helps though. ] But I’ll believe it when I see it.
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for now, the smile on his face turns mischievous, though he's torn somewhere between wanting to cup shiro's flushed cheeks and more teasing. either option is easier than addressing how stupidly easily it seems shiro is able to make keith feel just a touch giddy.
but then....
cat.
keith looks down at the grumpy interloper. for a beat, their expressions match damn near perfectly, though it's not like keith can really stay annoyed with the kitten. he steps back, shaking his head. ]
I thought you said the plan was to "listen to Keith and stop being a moron?"
[ he huffs, amused, then turns towards the couch where he takes a seat and pulls out his phone. ]
But maybe the kitten's right. We should all eat something. Let's get something delivered.
[ since uh... going outside again while it's bananas from powder shenanigans? yeah... no. ]