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Entry tags:

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Who: shiro + keith
When: perm log for these idiots
Where: all over
Summary: say, say o playmate from the august tdm. the butcher's camp from the september tdm. quarter pounder from the september event. keith's birthday. hermy the wormy from the december tdm. in the hive from the december event.new year, new you from the january tdm. end of january, references january event.
Warnings:
say, o say o playmate: hallucination, blood, ritualistic sacrifice, claustrophobia.
the butcher's camp: animal death, animal mutilation, both human and animal butchery, implied cannibalism, stripping ( nsfw ).
quarter pounder: blood, animal attack, consumption of human flesh, violence, gore, body horror, potential for severe injury, including puncture wounds and broken bones, potential for choking, potential for animal death.
keith's birthday: boys being stupid.
hermy the wormy: worms, decay, altered mental states/compulsion, emotional corruption, potential for violence, body mutilation, attempted murder.
in the hive: insects/swarms, bites, vomiting, body horror, death ( npcs ), mental and physical trauma
new year, new you: self-doubt, body dysmorphia trauma, cringe talk about sex safety, hook-up culture, body modification ( steroid and synthol oil use ), mention of drug use
end of january: implied animal death, self-doubt, body image issues, body dysmorphia, self-harm, body mutilation, skin burning, drug use mention ( tren steroid ), implied extreme dieting ( starvation & dehydration ), nsfw ( heavy petting and nudity ). reference to shiro's scars.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ...downplaying the way he feels? that possibility hadn't exactly crossed keith's mind before, even if he's pretty sure calling someone family and telling them i love you isn't how one goes about downplaying their feelings. he frowns slightly as he tucks his phone away and gives the blue frosting a tentative lick.

ultimately, it's not like any of this really matters, right? whether they're friends or family or something else, keith and shiro will always have each other. sure, it's slighhtly complicated by the fact that keith fucking has eyes and can see that shirois super easy on them, but surely he can train himself to unsee these things and go back to adoring shiro in a more accepted, familiar -- familial? -- manner.

in short, he more than halfway means it when he prepares to answer the question with a nod and a few words to dismiss this whole stupid situation that would have never come up if he hadn't gotten drunk at that goddamn beach party. but of course shiro has to probe and make an offer that instantly makes keith fluster. ]

N-No!

[ the word comes out louder than keith meant and coughed around his first lick of half melted icing. eyes widen with his own surprise as keith clears his throat. ]

I mean -- no, it's fine. Gay cupcake's helping me get over it. [ whatever that's supposed to mean. slightly embarrassed, keith picks at the piece of rainbow candy, giving it a poke with his tongue. ] What about you and Jimmy though?

[ … is it actually helping? coughing on the first lick is kind of a red flag. shiro’s about to say as much and more importantly, assure keith that he doesn’t have to eat the thing if it tastes bad, but there’s a poke of a tongue and… why are shiro’s eyes instantly drawn to it? thought process skips and then it’s fragmented, flat-lining his awareness just long enough for keith to beat him to the punch by diverting the conversation entirely. he blinks slow, as though not entirely present and he hopes the: ]

-- Huh?

[ … isn’t too dead of a giveaway, especially with how he has to shift his gaze up. who? what? why? oh. ]

Jimmy?

[ he isn’t putting the pieces together. he understands why the diversion: keith obviously doesn’t want shiro involved in any capacity in this crush situation, which is -- fine. if keith wants to play it close to his chest and not clue shiro in beyond the bare minimum, shiro -- understands. it stings in a way it shouldn’t; it’s not as though they tell each other everything, despite all claims that they are as close as two friends can be. shiro certainly hasn’t divulged much of anything that has happened to him since the persephone left earth, other than a handful of murky details. so he has no right to be sore over this.

still. why is jimmy the go-to diversion tactic? confusion settles heavily on his face. ]

What about him?

[ it takes more self control than keith actually has to keep one eyebrow from raising, but at the very least he manages not to repeat the question: yeah, what about jimmy? his expression may very well be asking the question for him, mind you, but there's a healthy amount of confusion here as well.

to this day, keith doesn't know exactly what to make of this "mission" that shiro went on, dressed up all fancy in a suit and tie only to return with a box of steak takeaway from the most popular steak restaurant in gloucester, but he's not totally oblivious, either. keith may not have the best intuition for social situations, but c'mon. even he knows, you don't just go out for an expensive steak meal with someone you only have friendly feelings towards.

heck, what was it that shiro had just said about downplaying feelings again?

keith clears his throat a second time. ]

Your uh... steak d-[ fuckshit don't call it that-- ] mission partner? Just seemed like you two were getting along.

[ question asked, keith picks up the rainbow candy between his teeth and lets it slowly melt awayon his tongue as he waits for some answer. ]

[ steak mission partner is not an inaccurate way to describe jimmy but the phrasing sounds strange, especially when it is preluded with another throat clear and a subsequent stutter. the confusion is here to stay for a bit longer, as such, shiro’s brow remains furrowed and eyes slightly squinted for three, two, one -- ]

Oh. [ slowly, his features relax closer to neutrality. ] Yeah, he’s easy to work with.

[ he makes the mistake of relaxing too far though; his gaze slips down again, tailing the disappearance of that rainbow candy and -- now he’s the one clearing his throat, head turning back to his pumpkin. chin dips and gaze follows as he finally grasps at that knife, pushing to begin seesawing through the rest of the pumpkin top. he’s only made one complete push-pull before easing into a laugh, tension leaving the line of his shoulders. ]

Actually… [ he grins to himself, clearly amused. ] He recently asked to check out the haunted house near Captain Solomon Jacobs Park.

[ they did work exceptionally well together for the covert operation of pose-as-customers-at-the-too-popular-restaurant. sure, they didn’t actually accomplish anything other than filling their bellies with tasty steak, but he supposes a first-round surveillance on packer’s cut can't be expected to produce immediate results. surely, adi will compile further information and brief them in the future for the next step in the investigation. the point is -- yes, shiro thinks they made a good partnership and jimmy must feel the same, judging by his eagerness to recruit shiro for another outing.

only hitch here is that supernatural happenings need to be involved. ]

I had to break it to him that that’s an actual-fake haunted house put on for the kiddies. [ a brief laugh. ] Kind of funny.

Oh....

[ one syllable and keith is already mentally kicking himself. whatever shiro finds "kind of funny" about the situation gets a little lost, and keith has only the rainbow candy sitting on his tongue to soothe over the disappointment. inevitably, even that bit of sweetness doesn't last as long as it could because keith crunches on it and takes a hasty bite out of cupcake and icing just to avoid having to respond.

what would he even say? haha, that's a good one? forget being a bad liar, keith doesn't have the acting chops to pull off genuine mirth here. mercifully, the dubious mouthful of cupcake is truly dubious, somehow managing to be burnt on the bottom while oddly lumpy at the center. frowning reflexively at the unusual combination of taste and texture on his palate, keith rolls the bite from one side of his tongue to the other before swallowing, still wearing that perplexed expression. ]

So... you're spending Halloween together then?

[ not that keith has any kind of monopoly on shiro's time or anything, but.... ]

[ the oh hits flat, but shiro is almost through closing the circle and two ticks too late, he looks over at keith, immediately associating the ring of disappointment with the large bite taken out of the cupcake. that’s not a favorable expression. shiro just barely staves off a cringe, mentally vowing to strike pastries off his cooking list. never again, clearly he isn’t cut out for it. luckily, keith swallows and shiro subsequently swallows back an apology when keith, once again, beats him to the cue of breaking the oddly uncomfortable silence.

so apparently, they’re going to keep doing this hot-potato, trade-off of confusion. keith’s perplexed expression soon becomes shiro’s all over again, because -- what? ]

No?

[ uncertainty clings heavily to his voice, as well as the draw of his brows. why would he spend the holiday with jimmy? well, there is that halloween party adi is hosting, so shiro could, he supposes, see jimmy at some point but spend it with him? there’s only one person shiro is intent on sharing spooky time with, obviously, especially with the get-up he’s pulled together for his costume. keith is going to love it.

… unless…

perhaps shiro is assuming too much. maybe keith is hoping he has something else going on because: ]

Oh. Did you make plans?

[ he watches keith for another moment and then glances back to his pumpkin. top off and held aloft by the stem in his left hand, shiro stares down into the mess of pumpkin guts, frowning. ]

[ there's a lot that could be said here. arguably, a lot that should be said, even, but the thing that comes out of keith's mouth is: ]

....No?

[ because parroting each other's skeptical icredulity is exactly what needs to happen here, right? right.

... which is to say fuck as keith gives himself yet another mental kick as his face heats up with some awful mixture of embarrassment and chagrin. see, this awkwardness right here is clearly what must make a guy like jimmy so much more appealing. shoulders rounding as keith hunches over his cupcake, he bites his lower lip, trying to tamp down on this stupid compulsion to overexplain and make things worse. ]

I was just gonna hang out. [ one deep breath. ] Watch ome of those lame horror movies maybe? [ he peeks up cautiously: ] With you, I mean. If you wanted. [ and with that bit of courage quickly running its course, keith's focus goes right back to the cupcake. ] ... But I guess I never asked you specifically so if you do have plans -- { which shiro said he didn't just now, so where the hell is his mouth going with this??? ] .... I'm lost. But you know what I mean.

[ shared confused to disappointed expressions. shared answers. shared -- thinking? how can they be so in tune with each other, yet be so misaligned in perception? it’s terrible. it’s funny. shiro leans heavily on the latter and abruptly, he gives a short, breathy laugh, a smile spreading. ]

I know exactly what you mean. [ plop goes the pumpkin cap as he sets it down on the garbage bag tarp, face angling toward keith. ] Because that’s what I was thinking too.

[ maybe not so much the horror movies specifically, he never quite formulated a solid plan beyond hanging out with keith, but he’s more than game for a low-key night in, filled with terribly fake screams, if that’s what keith feels up to doing. shiro’s one stipulation though? shiro scoots and sways his body weight, bumping his shoulder to keith’s.]

But only after we raid that Halloween party on the first floor. We need to do some massive trick-or-treating for the kind of sugar fix required for this horror movie marathon.

[ ... well if nothing else, the fact that shiro apparently understands despite the awkward tripping over his words comes as a massive relief. smiling again really does come as easily as that singular bump to his shoulder as keith relaxes and lets some of the tension drain from his shoulders. he grins, completely obvious to the fact that there's a bit of chocolate stuck on his teeth ]

Oh yeah? [ tone brighter to match, keith laughs. it's truly a testament to just how much shiro puts him at ease that even for half a second keith forgets how much he hates these social gatherings and is instead happily focused on the idea of his best friend trick-or-treating. there's just something nostalgic and innocent about it -- far gentler than what they've been dealing with in the last couple of months. smile still fond, keith takes another bite of his cupcake grinning throughout now that he knows what to expect from this creation. ]

But what are you dressing up as? [ .... ] Wait, What am I dressing up as? I don't have a costume prepared or anything.

[ with more than a week before halloween left to go, it probably wouldn't be too late to run out to some halloween store to secure a costume, but then that'd involve spending money on that and not say... important conspiracy board material. ]

Do you think it'd be tacky if I wore a sheet and called it a day?

[ shiro adores this keith. the keith who is happy and comfortable with himself, enough so to shrug off any ill-feeling and immediately pick up where shiro leaves off. so no, of course shiro isn’t going to say anything. no way in hell is shiro disrupting keith’s laughter by snickering at the bit of chocolate coating his teeth and accentuating that grin. nope. shiro only grins along, just short of beaming at that next bite of cupcake. so maybe he can tentatively place cupcakes back on his repertoire?

that’s a surprise, is the response on the tip of his tongue, but then there’s a wait and the focus shifts abruptly. the thing is, shiro doesn’t plan on staying at this halloween bash very long. when he said raid, he meant raid. ten minutes tops: in and out, just long enough to find the snacks and candy, and dump one bowlful into keith’s handy backpack of tricks.

so costume? keith doesn’t need to fret for a minimal stint. besides, with his current fashion sense, he passes as being in costume most days anyway. shiro’s in the midst of trying to put this delicately and in the least offensive way possible when sheet is then brought into the conversation and…

oh.

huh.

he doesn’t think ghost. he doesn’t think mummy. he thinks toga. bare-chested and long, lean lines, one section of the sheet wrapped over a shoulder and the rest circling narrow hips, bunching and bunching the fabric up so the edge touches mid-thigh. toga party; it should make him laugh. he should find keith swaddled up in a sheet in a last-minute ditch effort equal parts hilarious and embarrassing. instead, he thinks keith could probably pull it off. ]

I -- sure.

[ in the following pause, he realizes that doesn’t go along with what keith asked at all. face warming for a slew of reasons, though he only chooses to acknowledge one, he hastily corrects: ]

No, it wouldn’t be tacky. [ stop talking, stop talking -- ] You’ve got great legs, might as well show them off.

[ that was meant to be encouraging, he thinks? ]

[ the compliment earns shiro a blink of surprise. ]

My legs?

[ somewhat dumbfounded, keith looks down at his crossed legs like that might help him interpret shiro's meaning. it's enough of a shocker to hear shiro thinks his legs are nice, but equally as baffling is what throwing a sheet over his head and calling it a ghost costume has to do with showing off his legs. when staring at his legs doesn't magically solve the riddle, keith looks back up at shiro, head tilted to one side. ]

Wait, so you think I should go as a sexy ghost to show off my legs?

[ is that the correct interpretation of things?? clearly that isn't it, and even keith realizes as much considering the way his cheeks start pinking up again. or at least, that's the reason keith gives himself as he very sincerely doesn't know what to do with the idea that shiro just complimented his legs out of nowehre. wasn't he into ... bulkier, muscular thighs? heart beat picking up slightly, keith takes a third bite out of his cupcake, leaving just one mouthful behind. ]

That definitely sounds kinda tacky.

[ oh no. keith’s doing the head tilt. that means there’s a ninety-eight percent chance he’s going to need to explain himself and a sixty-one percent chance that he’s read this conversation wrong. sexy ghost. yeah, bingo, shiro is an idiot. it’s a race to see whose face can pink faster; shiro’s already flushed and now he’s reddening further, over the cheeks and across his scarred nose. ]

Oh. [ it sounds hollow, like the confidence has been scooped right out of him, similarly to how he’ll be gutting this pumpkin in a moment. ]

A ghost. [ still staring at keith, his brain seemingly only able to process one thing at a time. ] You meant a ghost.

[ having thoroughly talked himself through it. and now having banished a shortened toga from his mind -- great legs, what the fuck -- shiro once again returns to the safety of his pumpkin. he seems to return to his orange friend whenever he needs to hide and here, he doesn’t do a very good job of being subtle, when he does nothing with the gourd other than rap his fingers against it, the seeds and innards left alone. ]

That makes a lot more sense.

[ it might make a lot more sense for shiro, but keith is still just as clueless as ever about what it is the guy was initially imagining if it wasn't a sexy ghost. of course, a better friend would take note of the flushed cheeks and obvious embarrassment and take pity, but,,,, ]

What were you thinking then?

[ for what little it's worth, the tone is that of genuine curiosity -- no judgment to be heard anywhere. mentally sifting through the options in hish ead, keith gives shiro a tiny nudge with his shoulder, leaning for just the briefest of moments. ]

A loincloth??

[ keith please. let shiro keep some of that dwindling dignity. ghost is what any normal, sane, unmoronic person would think of, so the less they dive into the inner workings of shiro’s brain, the better off the two of them will be. he’s set to go to the grave with this but --

nudge and: ]

Wha--no! [ loincloth? How would that even -- ] Toga!

[ -- there’s way too much fabric in a bedsheet for a loincloth. unless keith planned on cutting up said sheet and -- no, no no no, shiro is not going anywhere near imagining that. it’s only then that shiro realizes that in the rush to distance himself from loincloth, he spilled the beans. ah, shit.

yes, his face is still pink. and yes, he still clings to his pumpkin. ]

You know… but a shortened one? [ hence the leg comment. listen, it made sense in his head, which they’ve already established didn’t actually make sense. ]

...So a sexy toga?

[ amazingly, both keith's tone and expression are entirely serious as he puts forth the question. whatever shiro may think, this is a very sincere quest for enlightenment. it's only the beat afterwards after he's heard the words out loud that something in keith's demeanor falters as the corners of his lips start to pull up with the ridiculousness of what was just said. ]

I mean -- [ forgive him, shiro. keith tries. really tries, but fails to keep a laugh in check despite chewing on the inside of his cheek. ] I'm sorry. I'll stop saying weird things now. Thought I was done with that.

[ shiro's probably got a whole bunch of blackmail worthy material on keith from his babblings on pain meds from honeydew to penguin commentary. it's probably best not to add to that more, right? a pinch more subdued, keith adds: ]

Not sure how I'd fold a toga anyway.

[ shiro is one breath away from banning the word sexy when referring to halloween costumes. it reminds him too much of those pop up halloween stores, with rows upon rows of cheap spandex and polyester costumes, packaged with the title sexy ‘insert mundane occupation’. shiro will be withholding the forgiveness for now, thank you very much; that failure to muffle a laugh will earn keith a scrunch of shiro’s features, edging dangerously close to a pout.

he could turn this around though. he realizes this with that sorry excuse of an apology. that’s right, shiro has a whole arsenal of things he could dig up from the past couple of weeks, more so in the beginning of keith’s recovery when he was hopped up on pain meds. shiro said one, tiny, ridiculous thing here, but keith -- he has piles upon piles of silly remarks they can revisit right here, right now.

… but shiro reconsiders with a soft sigh, the pout unfurrowing -- not to relax completely, but to come across more thoughtful than bothered. nah. shiro isn’t going to take the cheap shot at keith’s expense. he will, however, give a firm: ]

Not that you need to know, because you’re going as a ghost. [ -- to usher them away from this whole mix-up that much faster. and in the spirit of moving along, he’ll snatch up the scoop tool, shoving it down into the pumpkin to start scrapping. ]

Let’s just add all versions of toga to the list of things never to be spoken of ever again, okay?

[ keith watches that almost pout form with a self-satisfied smile. the laughter is over and done with at least, but this last bit of mirth is hard to let go of. it's a wildly inappropriate time to be putting descriptors like "cute" or "adorable" next to shiro's name, but it's hard not to think it when that grumpy sulking happens to be strangely endearing. ]

Okay.

[ see? keith is being agreeable and good. he pops the last bit of cupcake in his mouth and picks up his own set of carving tools to start cutting into the top. showing the slightest bit of mercy, he won't be cheeky and ask if they can talk about his legs then. instead, he gives shiro a tiny smile and inquires a pinch more seriously. ]

Can we talk about that day you saved me then?

[ for all he knows, this might just be equivalent to opening up pandora's box, but a lot of things happened that day that probably ought to be unpacked. ]

[ is this a better topic than sexy legged ghosts and the many methods of sheet folding? he supposes. it’s a necessary conversation too, one they likely could have -- should have -- had weeks ago, when keith was weaning off the pain meds and coherent enough to remember shiro’s nickname of choice is, in fact, shiro. on shiro’s end, he doesn’t much want to talk about it. he can recall all the bits and pieces with too much clarity; he reviews it enough on his own, mostly at night when all else is quiet and dull, and his mind can simply run until exhaustion wins out. keith though… -- shiro gets it. keith was pretty out of it. of course he’d want a recap of what happened once the blood loss grew too great and memory suffered in the wake of it.

shiro wonders if he should start with a correction. saved him. right. more accurately, when shiro failed to cover him and had to scramble to keep keith alive long enough for someone else to save him.

he pauses after the next scrap, hand still lodged inside the pumpkin, covered in goop and guts, and silently shakes off the pathetic wallowing of his thoughts. true, all of it is true, but he already knows keith would fight him on the self-flagellation, so -- ]

Sure.

[ he starts scraping again, gaze still kept down at his work. ]

Where do you want to start?

[ here, it's keith's turn to subtly shift and turn towards his pumpkin like it actually requires all of his brain cells to puzzle out. of course, he should be able to talk to shiro about anything, but certain topics are difficult to broach. that list of banned topics that shiro had been joking about may not actually be a joke in that sense. after all, it's not like they've ever revisited the topic of how shiro feels about his hair or the other ways that his time in captivity has manifested physically on his body. forget mentallly.

still. uncomfortable is too strong of a word for how keith feels right about now. lost might be better, esepecially with shiro just throwing the doors wide open without giving a single indication of what is and isn't on the table for discussion. the implication being that theoretically everything is fair game should come as a comfort, but keith isn't so sure. he goes quiet for a couple of seconds, fingers drumming lightly against the pumpkin as he considers. ]

Well.... [ and again, he lapses into an uncertain silence before deciding on an inoffensive course of action. ] ....I guess, I should start with a thanks. For getting me out of there and then afterwards.... staying with me at the clinic. It really means a lot to me. [ ... ] Well obviously it meant a lot to me, but you know... but even beyond what's obvious? Everything was that much easier to handle just because you were there. Even if I wasn't exactly the greatest company sometimes.

[ he peeks over towards shiro then briefly before turning his sheepish, somewhat pinkened face back to the pumpkin. ]

.. A lot of the time. I didn't mean to call you pet names and all that.

[ a smidgen of that wallowing has clung tight despite his best efforts and all it takes is keith’s thanks for the rest of it to come roaring back, so potent in its accompanying guilt that shiro just barely staves off a flinch. a flutter of his lashes in a too quickened repetition of blinks and a clench of his teeth that have the muscle of his jaw popping, those are the only giveaways in the moment. keith is just as engrossed in his pumpkin that shiro is though, so thankfully, shiro has time to breathe and force the easing of that clench, the tension unwinding word by word as keith keeps on talking through gratitude shiro feels undeserving of. if he’d been faster, keith never would have gotten hurt, never would have wound up in the clinic, never would have felt compelled to thank shiro, never would have --

enough.

the spiral stops but shiro still feels dizzy from it and to compensate, perhaps goes too far in trying to right himself. namely? he huffs a heh, mouth slanting on a curve that pulls hard to the right. ]

Honeydew wasn’t so bad. [ a beat. wait for it… ] Kind of sweet.

[ get it? honeydew in itself is sweet? piss-poor humor adequately dished out, the moment lapses and the curve loses its strength until he finds himself just barely maintaining a small, quiet kind of smile. the scrapping, once again, stops and he shifts to start pulling the cut guts free, dumping them into a trash bag. ]

You don’t need to thank me though. None of it was a burden. [ he knows he’s doing this wrong. he should stop fiddling with the damn pumpkin, face keith properly and talk this out without distraction. but shiro knows the truth: he’s not as brave as everyone thinks he is. if he slows down, if he stops, he won’t only have to face keith, but the full brunt of memory. he can’t escape it right before sleep, not even in his sleep where his nightmares have found new material to torture him with, but here, he can offset the reality in which he almost lost his best friend by pretending to care about this stupid jack-o-lantern.

so yes, he’s just going to keep scooping out the mess, desperately trying to keep himself from feeling too much. ]

I hated that you were hurt but I didn’t hate being there for you. [ in a way, it finally felt like he was evening the scales. shiro knows what it’s like to wake up hurting and disorientated. keith was there for him then, of course he was; it’s only fair shiro took care of him in return. not that that’s the full truth. ]

Though, truthfully? [ another scoop. another handful of pumpkin guts in the bag. he pauses then, hand now streaked orange grasping the open rim of his pumpkin. ] It was as much for your sanity as it was mine. [ a swallow and then a brittleness to his voice that he fails to fully mask. ] You really scared me out there.

[ keith stays quiet throughout shiro's response, listening carefully whlile his eyes stay focused on the pumpkin. the token gesture he makes towards relative nonchalance is a grab for a carving knife and a perfunctory start at cutting through the top, but really his thoughts are miles and miles away. of course shiro was going to say keith doesn't need to thank him -- that part may as well have been scripted. it's that last part about being scared that keith keeps mentally stumbling over.

to say that they've been through some rough times is an understatement at this point, but this is still the first time keith's heard shiro say anything about being scared. not back in that horrid stone temple, not back when the kelpies attacked. certainly not back when shiro had split up the team and made keith go looking for red on sendak's ship alone or when he'd ended up fighting a druid one on one. or zarkon for that matter. point is, keith's been in plenty of life or death situations -- thrown himmself headfirst at a couple of them as a matter of fact.

waas shiro scared all those times too?

having sawed his way halfway through the top of his pumpkin, keith steals a surreptitious glance in shiro's direction. probably not. after all, this incident with the boars is probably the most graphically close to dying he's come. instinctively, keith wants to press his hand to his ribs but represses the urge. despite shiro's tone, he almost feels as though he's being reprimanded. breath held for an extended beat, keith releases it quietly with a:]

I'm sorry. [ for scaring you. ] I don't know what happened.

[ which is partly a lie, but to say that he has any idea of what the pkot is would also be a lie. worrying at the inside of his lip, he carves through the rest of the top with a little more force than necessary. ]

I ... when my knife turned into a sword something weird happened to my body. I couldn't... it hurt. Like my body was trying to split in half? [ he shudders. ] Or like... there was something inside me. I don't know -- but it freaked me out and then I couldn't move away fast enough.

[ that’s shiro’s line: i’m sorry. it’s as before though, he knows it isn’t what keith wants to hear nor will even tolerate, so to save keith the breath of arguing him on it, he’s gone without saying it. he wonders if he should say it anyway, if not for keith than to quiet the guilt that’s continually rattling around his ribcage and driving him one step short of mad. perhaps he deserves that though; denying keith an apology is denying himself the forgiveness he knows would follow. he has no right to it. he botched that fight. keith almost died. shiro deserves to be unforgiven.

he makes a low sound and resumes cleaning out his pumpkin with the scraper. keith’s explaining -- trying to -- and shiro is brought right back to that day, forced to remember the pained, wet sounds and the look of keith’s strength draining right in front of his eyes. more than that, there are details he’s been actively ignoring all these weeks, not wanting to let suspicion get away from him. this reality is weird; nothing is off the table when these inexplicable supernatural powers are involved. the physical manifestation of keith’s pain in his eyes, in his mouth could have been linked to the fuckery going on in dogtown. even the transformation of his knife, who can say for sure?

except the insignia on keith’s knife isn’t a hallucination. shiro checked hours later, when keith was settled and stable, and shiro had the peace of mind to unpack everything from keith’s bag. a ceremonial blade, every one in the order carries one -- isn’t that what ulaz said?

why does keith have one? how does keith have one? he frowns, gaze centered on his pumpkin, still scraping, still cutting through the stringy insides. ]

Your knife triggered more than a feeling. It changed you. [ deepens that frown, skin wrinkled and knotted between his brows. ] Your face…

[ he pauses and gives a little shake of his head, filling the silence with a rougher drag of his carving utensil. ]

I thought -- because of the adrenaline and panic, I was seeing things but… [ stop stalling, just fucking say it. frustration spikes, at himself, at the situation, at keith for unintentionally being so baffling; he feels lost on what’s going on and he hates that he doesn’t have answers aside from a few details that don’t make sense anyway. he scrapes again, distracted and following repetition alone until the guts are forgotten and he’s digging into the meat of the pumpkin, thinning out the inner walls instead. ]

You had fangs. And slitted pupils. It was…

[ weird? unsettling? confusing? he abruptly pauses in his motions and exhales loudly, drowning out his own piling thoughts. ]

I don’t know what to make of it.

[ keith visibly tenses as shiro speaks, shoulders tight and grip even tighter on the handle of the carving knife. he doesn't breathe, doesn't dare moving and above all else, doesn't -- can't -- take his eyes off shiro. your face changed is an ominous enough sentence to start with, but the dread grows exponentially in the pit of his stomach and radiates outwards down his spine and up the back of his neck.

breathe. keith chastises himself. relax. except neither of those things happen so easily. ever since that goddamn incident with the security panel at the balmera, keith has been carrying this nagging thought around with him. lance had mercifully been too dense to ask further questions, but the implications of being able to interface with galra tech haven't been lost on keith himself, the only thing keeping keith's mouth shut on the matter? it's ridiculous, right? there have to be multiple explanations for why technology that's routinely species locked would suddenly and mysteriously only respond when he pressed his hand to the controls.

at the very least, a glitch would have to be a more reasonable explanation than an exnlanation involving his dna. it's the line keith's repeated to himself over and over, trying to keep one foot firmly planted in reality. but in giving voice to the alternative hypothesis during that stupid night where he drank too much to aelwyn of all fucking people, keith has to admit that the truth may just be that he doesn't like thinking about how the fuck his dad met a galra. how he came into being. why.

was his dad abducted the way shiro was? was keith some fucked up test tube creation that just never had a mother in the first place? he should have never gone down that rabbit hole of horrible questions because it's pointless to be having a fucking existential crisis over ridiculous sci-fi hypotheticals. what's more insidious, however, is the doubt planted in his head. ]

I- I've never -- [ and instantly, his mouth betrays him. whatever the paladins might think, shiroshiro would never judge him if he turned out to be related to the monsters they're fighting back home, right? the monsters that ripped off shiro's arm to turn him into a weapon? .... fuck, ] I swear I don't know anything about that. My face or my knife. I've had that knife my whole life and it's never changed into a sword like that before. [ breathe breathe breathe: ] I didn't know! I don't know. I thought I was just... normal.

[ in hindsight, dropping a by the way you grew fangs and your pupils morphed isn’t the most delicate way of breaking news to someone. he could have eased into it with some sense of care, rather than unloading, especially when his own thoughts are weighed down with frustration. entirely misplaced frustration at that. shiro’s fault here is that he didn’t think far enough ahead and pick apart the nuances to accurately predict keith’s reaction. honestly? he took it for granted. he’s anticipating confusion over the trigger and annoyance for the strangeness of this reality; basically, he’s ready for keith to go through the same emotions that shiro is currently shuffling through. idiot; that’s what he calls himself when keith simply goes off.

there’s something to be said about his reaction though. he’s defensive. part pleading even. it’s as though keith’s trying to circumvent an accusation before shiro even has the chance to make it. why would keith’s thoughts go there? how can keith know what to deny before it’s even voiced? does he actually know something more here?

the questions pile up in his head but they’re abstract and ignored, shiro’s immediate attention wrapped up in keith’s panic itself, rather than dissecting any underlying meaning. he drops his scraper there inside his pumpkin and shifts toward keith, hand coming down on his shoulder. his goopy hand. shit, sorry; shiro barely noticed at the moment though and instead goes for a squeeze, wanting to break that frantic tumble of words. ]

Woah -- hey. Slow down.

[ he doesn’t let up on the squeeze. he doubles down by giving keith a little shake as he then leans closer, voice deliberately kept light and soothing. ] It’s okay, Keith. No one is accusing you of anything here.

[ … yet? he still needs to talk to keith about the knife. the knife that keith has had his whole life and bears the emblem of their possible, alien allies. ]

[ keith barely registers the pumpkin gloop now thoughtfully smeared on his shoulder himself. the firm squeeze and gentle reassurance has made it abundantly clear that he's overreacted here and frustratingly that is probably going to warrant some kind of explanation. chewing on the inside of his lip, keith takes a deep breath but to limited effect. his shoulders stay tense under shiro's hand, though he loosens his grip on the carving knife. ]

Okay. [ it isn't okay. eyes fixed on the pumpkin, keith pulls the knife out and lays it on the garbage bag then carefully pulls off the top to expose pumpkin innards. another beat, then he tries again: ] Okay. [ that's firmer this time, more settled despite not feeling it at all. he doesn't like where this line of conversation is headed, doesn't like having to talk about just how little he knows about his own family history and where he comes from -- even to shiro. or should that be especially to shiro? keith's gaze drifts towards the galra arm before he looks away again, swallowing. ]

I just ... don't know what's wrong with me. [ then realizing how fucking unnecessarily melodramatic that sounds, keith groans, scrunching his face and runs his hand through his fringe. ] Think I'm losing my mind.

[ wouldn't be the first time, really. chasing after mysterious energy calling out to him in the desert? sure, he ended up being right about that but tell any goddamn psychiatrist about that and he'd have been committed. hell, it's happening here too, isn't it? the near constant nagging suspicion that something or someone out there is watching. the whole reason his room is a goddamn mess right now, in other words. ]

...and not the "feeling watched" kind of crazy. I mean as in.... [ he trails off, uneasy as he establishes eye contact again. ] ... if I keep talking, you promise you're not gonna treat me any different, right?

[ that this whole you're my family and i love you isn't going to change? ]

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