[ closed ]

[earthshine]

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.

Comments

[marmoron]

[ and just like that, the conversation is over and shiro is walking away. even in knowing shiro won't be going far or for long, there's still an upswelling of panic that makes sitting still impossible. keith fidgets, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from shouting wait!. frankly, he doesn't even get why. why so dramatic? why is his heart still beating so fast over what might just be a simple misunderstanding?

taking a deep breath, he manages to relax enough to pluck up the scraper and pop the lid off his pumpkin, but it doesn't stop feeling like he's going through the motions of normalcy. ... which is a good thing in theory -- the less he gets worked up about a misunderstanding the better.

but that feeling gets exaggerated tenfold by the time shiro walks back into the room with the pizza box in hand and a broad smile on his face. of course keith is curious about this deep dish pizza that shiro's been talking up. of cours it smells delicious. but the pizza just isn't where keith is looking when he mumbles quietly. ]

Yeah Gorgeous.

[ damningly, he's looking shiro dead in the eye as he says it, heart still racing too fast to be comfortable. swallowing then, keith looks at the contents of the box to look at ... okay a truly ridiculous pie of a pizza with layers and layers of cheese and toppings piled on thick. ]

.... that's deep. [ deep? ] Thick. [ ??? ] ... how is this a pizza? [ there, much better. ]

[earthshine]

[ … it’s normal to look at someone when you’re talking to them. even when the talking is little more than an echo of agreement. an agreement that includes the word gorgeous. shiro goes through all the steps of rationalization and yet, as keith’s gaze falls away, shiro feels himself warm in the aftermath. what -- what was that about? nothing, comes quickly and it’s just as well, because that sweet, vaguely dazed expression is gone and now keith’s onto full scrutiny.

how is this pizza? how is this pizza? sacrilege. how dare he question this culinary perfection. offended? yes, but he’s laughing, still a wide smile and dimpling cheeks. ]

It’s better than a pizza. [ a beat; again with the dramatic effect. this one he fills with leaning into keith’s space and dropping his voice, as though sharing some monumental secret. ]

It’s a deep dish pizza. [ and he can’t maintain. he starts laughing, delighted but embarrassingly sputtered as he gives keith’s shoulder a playful shove, straightening up from his lean. ]

Just try it, would ya? If you don’t like it -- which is impossible and I won’t believe you anyway… then you can nitpick it. [ in hindsight, he probably should have grabbed a knife. it’s pre-sliced but those cuts never seem to tear right, especially when so much cheese is involved. is there a clean carving knife around? ]

[marmoron]

[ despite being told not to nitpick it before he's tried it, keith is still giving the "pizza" a skeptical look. ]

Deep dish, uh-huh. [ incredulity aside, there's a pinch of lightness that's betraying keith's growing amusement here. ] Looks more like something you'd make if you wanted pie and a pizza at the same time.

[ ... which come to thik of it, probably explains a lot about shiro's fondness for this, huh. after all, it wouldn't look too out of place alongside shiro's other kitchen mishaps. brow wrinkling as keith bites his lip to contain a bubble of laughter, he glances back up to look shiro in the eye again. ]

Except y'know. This isn't burnt.

[ teasing properly dispensed, keith finally does as suggested and tries to pull one of the slices free. it doesn't detach very well and could probably use an actual pie server. he pulls and ends up dragging several long strings of mozarella and sauce with him. admittedly, it's kind of funny, but it doesnt fully distract him from that surreal feeling lodged deep in his belly. he ought to get up and get a knife here, but instead he tears the mozarella strands with his fingers to free up his pizza slice. ]

Still pretty hot. [ is his very poignant commentary here as he licks his fingers clean. but before taking an actual bite out of his slice, he looks up again, uncertain. ]

But uh... hey, can I ask you a question?

[earthshine]

[ a pie and pizza hybrid… well, he’s not wrong. that is basically what this is. what keith is wrong about, however, is the insinuation that shiro would burn this pizza pie if he attempted it. ]

Hey.

[ he’s laughing though, very tempted to give keith another shove and have him ripping that slice free in a mess of stringy cheese. for the record, shiro has had zero incidents in this apartment’s kitchen. practically zero. there was that teeny tiny fiasco with a sweet potato in the microwave. other than that, shiro is entirely capable of producing edible meals… on most occasions.

… good thing the cupcake is already down and gone. don’t need that damning evidence staring him in the face right now. as punishment for this very rude, very uncalled for slight against the person who has been spoiling keith rotten all day, shiro will not be sharing his -- now thoroughly wiped down -- pumpkin knife. keith can figure out how to get that goodness in him on his own.

… which in hindsight, may have been a mistake. greasy fingers, both red and cheesy, are lifted to keith’s mouth and then there’s a swipe of his tongue. shiro pauses mid slice, currently cutting through his own piece of pizza and there, he watches, for some undiscernible reason, keith lick, before he lifts his gaze to meet his.

huh? oh. ]

Yeah, of course. [ and then he’ll redirect his attention once more to his resumed cutting. ]

[marmoron]

[ what is this hey about, huh? it'd be easy to forget all about that earlier blip to harass shiro over his fake outrage -- tempting, too, if keith's being honest with himself. why make things weird when they're technically not weird right this second? he fidgets -- stalls really, taking an extra second to suck his fingers clean before pulling them out of his mouth. one deep breath and then: ]

Before you left to answer the door. You did this ... thing. [ thing. fuck him, he really ought to be far more specific than this, but it's bad enough that his cheeks are threatening to warm again. eyes on his pizza, keith mumbles through the rest. [ Did you mean to do the thing?

[earthshine]

[ pizza slice free! he does little with it however; he merely sections it away and sets the knife down on the flipped back lid. it’s just as well. he’d be slack jawed and motionless, with the pizza oozing from its suspension if he was actually going for a bite right now. instead, he has ( mostly ) clean hands and a carefully kept away gaze, fiddling once, fiddling twice with the knife.

the thing. so that’s what they’re calling it?

what thing is on the tip of his tongue, if only to buy him an extra few moments to conjure up how to answer this but mercifully, he doesn’t act the fool. keith knows, shiro knows, they both know what the thing means; everyone is on the same page, even right down to the same awkward air and vaguely warm faces.

when the stall inevitably breaks and he braves an answer, it’s entirely unhelpful. ]

Yes and no?

[marmoron]

What?

[ the question's out and blurted before keith's done a proper accounting of how to respond to that. when his brain catches up a moment later, he can't think of a proper addendum. what indeed. how is he meant to interpret an answer that's perfectly split down the middle like this?

pizza still suspended in his hand, he pulls ... some kind of expression that probably won't help the situation much. yes and no. no and yes. the more he thinks the three words to himself, the more he thinks he's never heard anything he's disliked more.]

What's that even supposed to mean?

[earthshine]

[ to shiro’s credit, he doesn’t wince. he should, really, seeing as he’s so quickly called out on his bullshit non-answer, but truth be told, it’s expected. it’s through that low-key anticipation for a confrontation that allows shiro to remain unperturbed by the blurted out cornering.

… he does go right back to stalling though. the following beats are silent and shiro wrestles the words around in his head, trying to put them in some sort of working order. how is he meant to explain an action he doesn’t fully understand himself?

it was a reflex? yes
entirely accidental? kind of.
him cherishing this best friend and wanting him to feel that affection? ah.

he fills his lungs on a deep breath and then on the exhale, briefly lets his eyes fall shut. one, two, and then his breathing evens out, his eyes open, and he looks at keith properly for the first time. ]

It means… [ don’t fidget. don’t be the coward. he frowns, faintly. ] I did it without thought. It just -- happened.

[ that’s the no. as for the yes? if he did it without thought, there had to be a driving impulse. a want. so. ]

But it felt natural to do so? [ again, he’s back to wondering if this is too weird. true, he and keith have been very tactile in the last, couple of years of their friendship but there’s a big difference between a shoulder clasp, a hug and an unasked for kiss on the forehead. don’t be the coward? shiro wavers on that here. ] I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or weird.

[marmoron]

[ when they lock eyes, it's fairly evident from the uncomfortable grimace that keith wants to look away almost immediately. the sole reason he doesn't in this instance is that something about this situation feels too much like losing if he looks away instead of standing his ground.

once again, there's another question that could be asked here. what does it even mean that it felt natural? a lot of things in the world are natural: sneezing, blinking, burping -- purely biological without much cognition involved, no deeper meaning. but natural also gets thrown around to describe a bunch of unnatural phenomena like the way in which piloting the lions feels pretty intuitive and comfortable. keith doesn't know what shiro's getting at here, and between the two parallek thoughts of shiro thinks nothing at all about kissing him on the forehead and shiro thinks kissing keith on the forehead was unnatural but comfortable, keith genuinely doesn't know if he likes either.

brow furrowing, he quits biting the inside of his lip, stubbornly still holding eye conntact. does he feel uncomfortable or weird? yes. hell yes, right now he absolutely feels both of those things. in the moment though....? ]

Do it again.

[earthshine]

[ shiro has seven years on keith. presumably, he’s wiser. more experienced and more put together, which makes him the mentor here. the leader. and yet, shiro feels less certain in his role once keith slips into that stubborn expression of his and refuses to budge. something’s coming and shiro has a split second warning to prevent it -- but he hesitates under that unwavering gaze. just like that, the silence gives and there’s a request. no, a command. you’re the leader, he reminds himself. he should laugh and uncorner himself. shrug too and tell keith to stop being ridiculous, to go back to enjoying his pizza that he’s yet to praise.

but shiro stares a little too long at the hard set of keith’s features. little by little, the urge to escape withers away and soon, he’s ensnared, heartbeat upticking on a rush of -- nervousness? excitement? curiosity? one of shiro’s most hopeless traits is his inability to resist a challenge and here, right here, is one plain as day. he kissed keith once. does shiro have the guts to do it a second time? with keith watching, with keith knowing?

it’s a weird, little game, and shiro is rising to the bait. god, that should be embarrassing, even infuriating, but instead, he presses his lips in a flat line, mentally psyching up his determination, not quite having the sense to say no. wordless, he nudges the pizza box out of the way and scoots closer. he’s frowning by the time he pauses there in front of keith and even as he leans in, his expression doesn’t clear. he’s concentrating. he’s debating. should he say something beforehand? should he brush his bangs out of the way? how long should he hold the kiss?

why is he so tangled up about this already?

in the end, he doesn’t say anything, neither does he push back his fringe. and the kiss? it’s four seconds exactly, in the pocket of space between his hair, an inch shy above his right eyebrow. the hand to keith’s nape, pulling him in and holding him there is a new addition this time around, one which shiro keeps even as he pulls back to look at keith, frown gone and replaced with a softer, more subdued expression. still, not a word; just a look that begs a reaction.

well -- how was that? ]

[marmoron]

[ keith has known shiro long enough to know better than to throw out a command like that. they may be best friends, but there's no question that a command like that would only get interpreted as some kind of challenge. but if keith's being entirely honest with himself -- that's the point. it's not meant as some means of strong arming shiro into repeating a potentially unwanted gesture, but to test the veracity of the idea that it'd felt natural.

testing shiro's words shouldn't be the reflex here, but actions always speak so much louder than words which is why keith gives them so much more weight. even so, it doesn't take a genius to look at the steeled look on his best friend's face to know in advance that he isn't going to back down. keith's heart skips a beat then, but his own expression stays guarded. why? he couldn't say other than some vague need to brace himself.

shiro moves the box aside, then pulls him in close before pressing a kiss to his forehead. lower down this time, all intentional, no chance of misinterpreting the whats and whys of the situation. the contact isn't exactly brief either. four long ticks drag on and keith forgets to breathe for all of them. whatever he was trying to prove here suddenly sublimates into nothingness, his head an empty chasm of reverating silence.

sexy ghost. you're my family, i love you. jimmy and the steak mission. brothers. i know exactly who you are. honeydew. you're perfect.

jesus fuck, he lets out the breath he'd been holding, then draws in a quick inhale as shiro pulls away and shoots him that expectant look. where he'd felt disconnected from his body before a split second earlier, suddenly he can't turn down the volume on his heart pounding in his chest or settle the swooping butterflies in his stomach. does this even mean anything when he practically goaded shiro into doing that? his own expression softens, eyes round as he looks at his best friend. ]

...did that still feel natural to you?

[ it's a ridiculous question. of course, it couldn't have. not when it was prompted in the way that it was. flustering, but still refusing to give up on eye contact, keith swallows. ]

edit time vs post time. ah interesting, you tabbed back in.

[earthshine]

[ yes and no. heh, he can’t seem to get away from that filler answer. the implications surrounding a kiss on the forehead are the unnatural part, like he may actually be bumbling over a boundary that one of them should be pointing out. friends don’t casually bestow each other with kisses. but the act itself? it lacks any visceral reaction of oddity. the feeling of keith’s skin under his lips: fine. palm on his neck, fingers curled in his hair to keep him close: good. keith looking at him wide-eyed and soft, face flushing warm: welcome. what it comes down to, he supposes, is that he feels like he’s supposed to feel unnatural in the moment. if he ignores the expectation of what other people keep of what friends are supposed to do and not do with each other, then the answer is easy. ]

Yeah.

[ that bravado only lasts through that one word. it’s out and then shiro buckles under the sudden weight pressing heavy in the moment. he straightens his spine and sits up from his forward lean, hand moving from keith's neck. even that is toeing at boundaries, because he doesn’t lift his hand. he drags it free along his neck and smoothes his palm along the curve of his shoulder before finally settling on the meat of it, grasping firm. arguably, the whole thing is a heavy-handed caress, only to end on a move that is far more familiar to them.

it helps steady shiro. it reinforces the notion that he and keith don’t fit within the normal constraints of friends. they’ve been through so much together, both in their formative years and in these life-changing past few. they trust each other beyond explanation and are as close as two best friends can be -- aren’t they? touch comes freely between them, so why can’t that extend to an affectionate kiss on the forehead? he loves keith. keith is his family.

no. they’re family. keith thinks so too.

another beat to that pause and then a smile quirks, the look of it encouraging, yet voice tentatively shy in its honesty. ]

Most things do with you. [ that’s why they get along so great, right? they seem to fall together and fit, no matter what it is they’re doing, saying, or thinking. either way, it’s accompanied with a one-shoulder shrug of his free arm, trying to soften some of that with nonchalance. ]

silence :|

[marmoron]

[ yeah. yeah. the affirmative comes so easily that keith feels entirely thrown off script. not that there'd been one to start with, but this being the opposite of expectation compounds the feeling of vertigo .... and inexplicable fondness? how many times is it going to take shiro being the exception to the rules for keith to drive that into his head? the thought makes keith smile instantly -- a small, shy thing that he holds, despite himself because fuck if he's worked out how he even wants to respond. the dopey expression holds for longer than it should before keith's finally able to get a grip on himself about two seconds later because even he realizes smiling moonily at his best firned isn't a proper answer.

one breath. forget the script, maybe he's completely lost the fucking plot if swapping kisses has somehow crossed over into "natural" territory while he wasn't looking. hell, maybe it feels natural for shiro, but keith swears his forehead is still tingling from where shiro's lips touched. is that natural? probably not -- no definitely not. but it doesn't feel wrong either, in much the same way that the hand moving down the line of his shoulder doesn't feel out of place.

with the feeling like he might be losing an unspoken stand still fading fast, keith breaks eye contact to look down at his shoulder, head ducked to try and keep the tiny, helpless smile to himself for a brief moment while his thoughts settle. ]

I like that it does.

[ whether he means the kisses or the fact that most things feel natural together is a bit vague, but there's only so much topping a deep dish pizza crust can hold up without starting to sag. another tick and the pizza slice flops, dripping cheese and tomato sauce on keith's shirt and pants. ]

Oh.

[ anticlimactic. ]

:x

[earthshine]

[ and plop. oh only seems to extend the shock of it all. staring, yes shiro is definitely staring at the mess all over keith. pumpkin guts on his shoulders, cheese and sauce at the front of his shirt down to his lap and – shiro grimaces, nose wrinkling as he lets go of his friend. ]

Damn. [ soft, almost awed in its disbelief. ] I really should’ve grabbed us some plates.

[ or more astutely, he should have backed off quicker, rather than continually inserting himself in keith’s space while the poor boy was in the midst of trying to eat. either way, as far as shiro is concerned, the blame lands on him. the grimace hasn’t quite left him and so, his expression is very much still wrinkled and forlorn, apology filling his gaze as he finally lifts it from the mess. ]

Sorry about that. [ and then, without another damning pause of uselessness, he eases further out of keith’s space and pushes himself to his feet. ] I’ll get you a towel.

[ the apartment is small to begin with. jamming three bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, into this square footage means the bedrooms are pretty cramped. shiro simply has to turn, take a few steps and he’s already at the door to his restroom.

… two steps before that though, he sees his dresser and without thinking, a different offer presents itself. ] Or a shirt – how about a shirt? [ there’s no real reason for it. they’re carving pumpkins. mess is everywhere, even without plateless pizza. nonetheless, there’s a big, blotch of red on keith’s shirt and… maybe shiro doesn’t like seeing red stains anywhere near keith’s ribs. ] You can ball yours up and toss it in the hamper.

[ shiro will just be stepping over to his dresser in the meantime. ]

GOOD.

[marmoron]

[ and while shiro frets, keith is entirely consumed by chagrin. of course, he's never actually been suave in social situations, but he's usually not clumsy. it doesn't matter when it's just him and shiro hanging out, but it's hard not to feel like the universe is actively conspiring against him to make him feel foolish every other minute. scowling, but repressing a deep sigh keith drops what's left of his slice back into the box and gingerly tugs the hem of his black shirt away from himself.

there's no getting around it. it's a greasy, cheesy, tomato saucey mess. resentful at the cosmos, keith picks gingerly at a large piece of pepperoni and plops it in his mouth. questionable table manners or not, it's too much of a waste of food. visibly deflated, keith looks up again just in tine to hear a sorry, and watches shiro get to his feet.

what's he even apologizing for? the confusion barely has time to set in before there are two offers made. despite it being a pretty zero effort task to get up and walk back to his own room for a change of clothes, keith simply just nods at the offer as he gets to his feet. ]

Okay. Gotta get this stuff off first.

[ hem still pulled as far from him as possible, keith picks at another piece of cheesy sausage and plops that into his mouth as well. ]

Wanna help?

[ there is zero consideration given for the fact that this is ... potentially a gross thing to ask for help with. ]

... you edited just to add a comment here.

[earthshine]

[ top drawer: open. shirt: retrieved. shiro holds it up for himself, the fabric unfolding free to showcase a rather plain, rather unremarkable simple, grey tee. it’s a kick around shirt, one shiro often wears around the apartment, even sleeps in sometimes. it’s big enough that it even hangs a teeny, tiny bit loose on shiro himself, adding that extra dose of comfort any time he wears it. is it strange that he immediately thinks of mcdonalds? not about their happy meals or silly hamburger chairs, no, but of keith sitting across from him, nearly drowning in a too large tee, bare shoulder continually peeking free. this shirt isn’t far off from that, so does that mean it’ll keep draping down his arm as they eat and finish up these pumpkins?

any thought of finding a smaller shirt — does he actually have anything that much smaller? – is gone and past before shiro can act on it. he turns his head toward keith, humming faint and brief to the question and – oh. one long moment to take in keith standing there, shirt pulled far enough out that he can see a sliver of his belly and then shiro looks to the mess itself. ]

You don’t have to do that.

[ the glob of cheese is the worst of it, although there is another pepperoni left and bits of meat too. he turns back to the dresser to push the drawer shut and then he’s walking over to keith, stopping a few steps short in front of him.

he has that odd pinch to his face, not quite a frown, more of a grimaced smile, like he’s trying to be encouraging rather than judgmental. ]

There’s plenty of pizza. You know, without cotton fibers. [ and dirt. and sweat. and whatever else they likely picked up while tromping all over that pumpkin patch. listen, it’s very important that keith’s deep dish tasting experience isn’t hampered more than it already has been. ] Just scoop it off and toss it in the garbage.

AND TO CHANGE MY ICN ACTUALLY.

[marmoron]

[ it isn't a reprimand or even disapproval really, but the comment about cotton fibers makes keith pause, uncertain. it hadn't exactly crossed his mind to think of it that way, but hearing it stated like that makes heat creep up his face. honestly? while he hadn't exactly gone hungry during the year he decided to go off on his own in the desert, he'd definitely been far more conscious of waste. not quite meeting shiro's eye, keith bites the inside of his lower lip and mumbles a non-committal: ]

Mm.

[ he turns then to go stand in front of shiro's trash can. admittedly it's still not keith's instinct to just scrape off that last bit of pepperoni and sausage, but like hell is he going to eat it off his shirt now with shiro standing there. one quick swipe of his fingers and most of the remaining mess comes off, which means next to come off is keith's shirt. it comes up over head and keith drapes it over an arm.

still not quite facing shiro, he starts heading into the bathroom to give his hands a wash. in part because yeah, his hands aren't clean, but also to make some other point about his general state of hygiene now that he feels put on the spot about it. brow furowed as he washes, he looks across: ]

Where do you keep your hamper again?

OH. ok that is less reason for me to judge.

[earthshine]

[ ah. did he say the wrong thing? shiro is by no means an expert when it comes to untangling the abrupt changes to keith’s moods, but he is well-versed enough to know it’s a delicate thing. the first glance and the first conclusion are usually misleading. keith is being agreeable; that's the concerning part. a non-comment followed by obedience adds to the sudden layer of awkwardness that shiro isn’t imagining, right? he thinks it might be worse to ask what’s wrong though. it’s just a bit of spilled pizza; really, how much can that truly affect the mood?

when it leads to keith stripping off his shirt? more than it should.

shiro tries not to look. being mindful of keith’s privacy is a laughable reason at this point. that day in the abandoned camp isn’t so long ago; shiro knows what keith looks like when he’s missing more than just a shirt. or well, he did know, up until a few weeks ago when keith earned himself a pretty nasty looking scar. it’s not the first time shiro’s seen the damage, but it is the first time he’s seen it without a cluster of stitches. it’s still early. there’s still so much time left for his body to heal. shiro likes to think it’ll fade in the coming months, but, well, shiro is all too familiar with the stubbornness of scar tissue.

keith passes into the bathroom and shiro breathes out, shoulders relaxing into a slump. it doesn’t last long. oh, hamper? ]

Out here. Under the bed. [ minimal space in a small bedroom calls for sneaky organization. setting his shirt on the bed itself, shiro crouches down and pulls the basket out from underneath the bedframe. luckily, he did wash the day before yesterday, so it’s still rather empty. the two pairs of boxer briefs are incriminating in their own way though. moving quickly, he piles the pairs of socks and the lone shirt over them, hiding them.

and while keith finishes up in the bathroom, shiro supposes he might as well get it out now. it being the well-wrapped, red-bowed, amazon box. he drags that out as well and rises up to his feet only to spin on his heel and plop right back down again, this time with his ass to the bed. ]

I’ll let you get dressed first but there’s one last part to your birthday. Wanna open it?

stop judging me ;;

[marmoron]

[ hands soaped up and now clean, keith gives them a quick wipe on the towel and steps out of the bathroom. maybe hygiene's a weird thing to be getting self conscious over, but it's a little broader than that, too. after all, keith isn't exactly fond of talking about that year by himself and it's weird to think it's had some deeper impact on his behavior, even if the slight is ultimately small.

one way or another though, he tries to shake it loose from mind as he walks back into the bedroom. mercifully, shiro's got the perfect change in topic queued up and ready to go. glancing first at the hamper, keith tosses his shirt into the pile. ]

Wait, there's more? [ eyebrow raised, he reaches for the grey shirt left out on the bed. ] You've already done a lot though?

[ why that comes out like a question, keith couldn't say. but it's true, right? between the pumpkin patch, the carving, the pizza, the cupcake.... it's been a very full day of blessings and there isn't that much money floating around for them to scoop up without, say, life endangerment. thoughts briefly slide back to that one instagram account and shiro's brief modeling stint. it seems... pretty fucking self centered to even think maybe shiro had been trying to make extra money for his birthday back then.

hell. if anything.,,, maybe his best friend's taken all these steps because he feels... what sorry for keith that he almost died? keith's expression falters at that with uncertainty. he knows shiro well enough to know that pity isn't a motivating driver in their friendship, but still when he looks down his body, there's a fairly obvious round scar on the right side of his chest.

biting the inside of his lip, keith quickly throws the oversized shirt on. out of sight, out of mind, right? forcing a smile, he picks at the fabric, trying to get it to sit right on his frane when the shirt bunches to one side and exposes shoulder. ]

....It was nice just to spend time with you, you know?

[ "nice." what a stupid, empty word. nice. ]

but idk how to stop

[earthshine]

[ there it is. there’s the shoulder. it’s an immediate distraction but a welcome one, only in that it bulldozes over the image of that round, terrible scar sitting heavy in shiro’s mind. patiently, he watches keith pick at fabric, smiling in that small, encouraging way of his. he flips the gift-wrapped box over in his hands, the actual present hitting the sides. perhaps he should have simply wrapped the candy box itself. a box within a box – kind of silly.

ah well.

still, he keeps his smile, even as keith does his particular brand of you shouldn’t have. he thinks keith probably means it too. a lot of people say things like that; faking modesty and downplaying how they really feel, just to appear more gracious for what is provided to them. shiro knows keith is used to having less, that he’s even content in having so very little… but shiro isn’t. he’s not satisfied.

they’ve both already spent too many days lost and ruined and terrified, from the year spent apart to battle heavy months of voltron to this haunted reality. if there’s ever a time to escape the turmoil of their lives and enjoy themselves, it’s keith’s birthday. so yes, shiro’s done a lot of nice gestures today and he has no regrets about the money he’s dished out or the time he’s spent. he only wants keith to be happy, always of course, but especially today.

he bumps his foot against keith’s and pointedly doesn’t stare at the curve of keith’s shoulder. ]

It’s your birthday. [ that’s the explanation of choice tonight. didn’t he say that earlier? well, because that should be the only explanation needed, really. shiro pauses on it but then continues in the next beat, smile softening on an inner play of self-admonishment. ] I can’t pass off my presence as a gift.

[ they spend so much time together anyway, which shiro cherishes and values. but today is different. special. keith deserves more than just another day spent kicking around with shiro. he gives his head a brief one-two shake and flips the gift right side up. ]

This isn’t anything big anyway. [ he holds it out to keith, meeting his gaze. ] Just a small token of home.

[marmoron]

[ keith shuffles, glancing down at the foot nudge before looking back up to shiro and the box with a more natural smile. it's your birthday is an argument keith could pretty readily counter by saying it's just another day because in the years between losing his dad and getting picked up by shiro to be a garrison recruit that's really all it was. ...at best, anyway.

watching as other kids bring in cupcakes and brag about cool laser tag birthday parties has left kind of a bitter taste in keith's mouth about birthdays in general. stupid, envious and sour -- yes, of course he'd been all of those things whenever he was reminded everyone his existence really mattered to was dead or gone.

it's... different with shiro, though. as most things are with shiro. there's a pang in his chest as takes the box from shiro's hands. ]

It's my birthday, huh....

[ keith echoes the sentiment, just trying out the feel of the words. so many times he's heard some spoilt ass kid in his class throw a goddamn tantrum with that exact reasoning and for a second, keith hiccups on a near laugh. in the end, he won't refute it's your birthday because it's meaningful to shiro and despite knowing shiro cares, he feels a little warmer, fuller for the affirmation.

giving up on the fit of the tee, keith plops himself down on the bed beside his best friend, briefly nuzzling his cheek against shiro's arm. ]

You could've slapped a bow on yourself. Would've made a great gift.

[ it's offered up with a laugh, and a more earnest smile that makes it plain that the innuendo's gone right over his head. picking at the wrapping apper, keith peels off the taped on bow and sticks it on shiro's shirt with a laugh. ]

Heh. [ grinning and clearly proud of his work, keith pauses to admire the look for a beat, then adds more seriously: ] ... thanks, Shiro. It means a lot to me.

[ ... you mean a lot to me? keith hesitates on the correction, then turns his attention back to the wrapping paper which he tears off with a satisfying riiiiiiip and upon seeing the box, gives it a curious shake and rattle before peeling off the tape. ]

[earthshine]

[ keith plops down next to him and shiro thinks nothing of it. knees briefly knock and thighs touch, and still, there isn’t anything amiss. but then keith tips closer and it’s only a tick into the brush of keith’s cheek that shiro realizes his hand isn’t where it’s meant to be. immediately, he halts it mid-reach, pressing his palm to the bedding. behind keith and incriminatingly close, it’s inches from its destination of cupping keith’s hip to – what, hug him into his side and encourage the lean? that’s… huh.

shiro abandons any deeper thought on the matter, but leaves his arm where it is as he goes for the easy rebuttal of rolling his eyes. so keith is intent on arguing this shiro gift idea. see, keith says this but shiro really has to wonder what his true reaction would be if shiro had plopped the bow at the crown of his floof and taped a thinly cut ring of wrapping paper around his torso, only to stand outside keith’s door. would keith have laughed? most definitely. would keith have smiled? without a doubt. would keith have thought it was enough? it’s difficult for shiro to find peace with that. deep down, he knows it’s yes but he thinks it shouldn’t be. keith should want more for himself than seeing his best friend empty-handed, waiting to be unwrapped.

– oh. unwrapped is the key word. one of them gets the innuendo. unintended innuendo. not that tacking on an adjective prevents shiro from tripping over his own thoughts. pressure at his chest works as a physical derailment; a miniscule shift with the push and his line of thinking recalibrates, shiro blinking hard at the bow sticking to him. keith’s laughter registers next and shiro gives himself a mental shake. right. yes. it’s a joke. run with the joke.

he huffs and musters a grin. ]

I guess Christmas shopping is gonna be a breeze then. [ a blatant lie, of course. he hopes to amass enough disposal money to get keith more than food and an otherwise cheap outing. for now, he’ll let it be though. he looks up from the bow and leans into his hand there in the bedding, crowding closer to keith. ]

Don’t thank me until you’ve seen it. [ after all this build-up, he can’t help one moment of irrational fear, that a box of cactus candy will be disappointing. one blink and the grin is back to full force however. ]

And then… you can show your gratitude by sharing one with me.

[marmoron]

[ curious eyes stay on the mystery box, though it's clear he's still grinning pretty broadly from the sound of his voice. ]

Uh-huh, cuz you're real likely to have gotten be a "eat shit' shirt or something.

[ he doesn't say, but frankly it doesn't seem that far removed from what lance would have gotten him for christmas, if lance had been forced into it. so actually yeah -- in some ways christmas shopping this year will be relatively easy. it won't be the lonely affair of being alone with a crappy tree and at the same time, it won't be as exhausting as trying to coordinate gifts for all the paladins, allura adn coran. it's not exactly a bright side to being stranded in an otherwise bizarre reality, so keith doesn't mention it and instead redirects all thought back to the box......

....of prickly pear candy? ]

Oh! [ he picks up his box and laughs, tone and expression going soft. ]I haven't had these in ages. [ but he remembers the red chewy squares well enough. looking up at shiro, he gives his best friend a lil side nudge with his elbow as he peels off the plastic to open the candy box. there's zero hesitation as he picks up one of the candies, and holds it up to shiro's lips. ]

Think they'll taste the same in this reality too?

[ he leaves the 'say ah' part unspoken. shiro can infer well enough, after all. ]

[earthshine]

[ the cactus candy company was started in 1942, does keith know that? it’s coming up on eight decades in this reality. in theirs? it’s survived beyond expectation. what candy company – hell, what product – lasts well over a century? currently, in this reality, many other candy companies. it’s surprising to shiro, but apparently not at all unusual, although, shiro suspects that tweaks to recipes have happened over the years. so does he think the prickly pear candy will taste the same here? what is he expecting?

not much of anything, honestly. he can say however, that he hadn’t been expecting keith to hold the candy to his mouth. the motion had been so fluid and smooth, not a hint of doubt in it and while there’s a potent beat of hesitation on shiro’s part, he’s quick to shake free of it. he’s already made keith feel stupid not more than three minutes ago, he’s not about to do it again by plucking the candy from his fingers with anything other than his mouth.

he tells himself to minimize the contact. furthermore, he’ll tell himself his aim is botched and it’s an accident. the accident being how he closes his lips around the whole of the candy and the tips of keith’s fingers. the suckle is barely anything at all, a reflex to ensure he has every drop of sugar, and with that, he pulls back, gaze on keith as the candy sits heavy on his tongue. he takes his time with it, letting the taste bloom as it melts. a few more ticks and he kicks it out to his right cheek, letting it saturate there. ]

Tastes pretty close.

[ he doesn’t actually know. he can’t remember. there are a lot of things he can’t pinpoint about his life; his past life, his real life, the one that takashi shirogane led. forgetting the exact taste of a novelty candy is hardly a thing to get tangled up about, he knows, but it still has him thinking that he hasn’t been home in eons and likely never will.

he seals his lips shut and gives another suck, physically tearing himself from that line of thinking by pitching backward, as though changing positions will change his frame of mind. it doesn’t, of course, but he ends up on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he folds his hands underneath his head. a deep breath, a sigh and then he closes his eyes, forcing a smile that he hopes appears far more care-free than he feels. ]

I can just about feel the Arizona sun on my face, smell the desert air… [ he’s coming up on three years, he realizes. sure, he was technically in arizona for half a day, but he was so discombobulated at the time, that he can hardly remember anything about that experience other than a sparse cabin and the blue lion. heh. amazing how sucking on cactus candy feels a little like home. a beat, a barely there laugh. ] Hear the coyotes yowling.

[ he cracks open one eye, peeking at keith. ] So prepare yourself. You pop one of those in and you'll be hearing them too.

[marmoron]

[ oh...

it shouldn't necessarily come as a surprise when shiro's mouth closes around the tips of his fingers, but keith had imagined it playing out differently. like with shiro biting a cormer of the candy, maybe? instead, keith gets to briefly experience the warmth of his best friend's mouth, a gentle suck and just like that there's a shy little thrum behind his ribs and heat blooming across his cheeks. keith ducks his head, looking down and away at the few granules of sugar starting to dissolve on his fingers.

none of this should be making him blush, but apparently that's not something he can beat down with logic dn reason. at least by now he's worked out that shiro would probably find it gross if he licked his fingers clean, but getting up to wash his hands again feels weirdly excessive. in the end, it's the box of candy still resting on his lap that saves him. keith picks up a second square, turning it over in his fingers while listening to shiro's verdict.

pretty close, huh? ah. but that isn't all. keith watches, curious, as his best friends lies flat on his back, launching into cheesy poetics about home. it'd be easy to call shiro out on it and tease, but the nostalgia for a place and time that's out of reach is just potent enough that there's a second ache behind keith's sternum instead.

he slips the candy into his mouth careful to lick off all the sugar, then goes silent for several beats. it's easy enough to get lost in the memory of the time he first learned you could even make candy out of prickly pear and how his dad had practically slapped his hands away from the cacti by their cabin, but right now? there's someone else keith would rather be thinking about instead.

candy held in his cheek, keith angles to look down at shiro with a playful smile. ]

Like this? [ grinning, he imitates a howl as he pushes down on both of his best friend's shoulders. they haven't wrestled since the accident, but now feels like a great time to start that up again. ]