[ there's something unbelievably snide about jeremy's tone when he reoeats the words best friend. to say keith doesn't like it would be an understatement. it wasn't all that long ago that folks at the garrison would talk about their friendship in similar incredulous tones and for better or for worse, jeremy's quickly stoking the flames of keith's ire.
of course they're best friends -- why wouldn't they be best friends? keith has half a mind to demonstrate just how close shiro and him are with a right hook, but then... there's a hand grabbing his.
oh.
the blip of confusion holds for a beat as keith turns his face away from jeremy to look up at shiro curiously. but when shiro starts to walk away, keith decides this is fine. more than fine? he starts to relax visibly the further they get, fingers spreading to gently test if they can be interlaced with shiro's, but ah.....
it's a yard and then he has to hear jeremy's stupid voice and then the warm hand in his is gone. it is genuinely difficult to parse which of those two things is more upsetting in the moment. keith turns and watches shiro hone in like a missile targeted at jeremy's back, then starts catching up just as there's a rough tug and crash as the guy falls backwards onto the ground.
with the band kicking up their second act, the bar doesn't actually go silent. the few people nearest to the bar do stop and stare at the commotion, but nobody besides jeremy's two friends seem particularly outraged. jeremy continues to groan the hell was that for? on the ground, and keith makes the executive decision that he's done talking.
he strides over the rest of the way, stepping on jeremy's outstretched hand on the way. jeremy whimpers and keith steps off. ]
Oops. Didn't see the trash on the ground.
[ is his not-apology. then attention turned fully to shiro, he wraps both arms around his waist. ]
Dunno about you, but I've had enough of this guy's voice. Let's go.
[ it takes a bit of effort, no thanks to the unsteadying effect of the alcohol, but keith hoists shiro up and promptly starts walking out of the bar. ]
shiro the hero... turning his 2 incher shame face on others
of course they're best friends -- why wouldn't they be best friends? keith has half a mind to demonstrate just how close shiro and him are with a right hook, but then... there's a hand grabbing his.
oh.
the blip of confusion holds for a beat as keith turns his face away from jeremy to look up at shiro curiously. but when shiro starts to walk away, keith decides this is fine. more than fine? he starts to relax visibly the further they get, fingers spreading to gently test if they can be interlaced with shiro's, but ah.....
it's a yard and then he has to hear jeremy's stupid voice and then the warm hand in his is gone. it is genuinely difficult to parse which of those two things is more upsetting in the moment. keith turns and watches shiro hone in like a missile targeted at jeremy's back, then starts catching up just as there's a rough tug and crash as the guy falls backwards onto the ground.
with the band kicking up their second act, the bar doesn't actually go silent. the few people nearest to the bar do stop and stare at the commotion, but nobody besides jeremy's two friends seem particularly outraged. jeremy continues to groan the hell was that for? on the ground, and keith makes the executive decision that he's done talking.
he strides over the rest of the way, stepping on jeremy's outstretched hand on the way. jeremy whimpers and keith steps off. ]
Oops. Didn't see the trash on the ground.
[ is his not-apology. then attention turned fully to shiro, he wraps both arms around his waist. ]
Dunno about you, but I've had enough of this guy's voice. Let's go.
[ it takes a bit of effort, no thanks to the unsteadying effect of the alcohol, but keith hoists shiro up and promptly starts walking out of the bar. ]