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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.

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[ shiro slams his hand down and keith flinches. as far as posturing goes, he shouldn't be putting out anything less than a tough exterior, but seeing his best friend getting up stings worse than it has any right to. a more fatalistic side of keith is stuck on of course, but the rest just feels raw. he ought to be glaring -- force shiro to look him right in the eye as he abandons keith again, but instead keith just looks helplessly at his loosened hand splints. he's angry. resentful even, but the things shiro is saying and doing are all blending in the tapestry stitched together by murphy's law.

nut something happens to change shiro's mind and keith watches with a tired look in his eyes as his best friend sits back down. keith doesn't know if that's a good or bad sigh. is shiro staying to wear him down more or --

i'm sorry.

and then silence. keith bites his lip in some attempt to keep it from trembling. after everything he's said about feeling regretful and guilty over the fights he's picked and the destruction he's caused, shiro demanding that he cause more damage in some hypothetical clusterfuck had made it so abundantly clear that shiro hadn't been listening at all.

the silence here finally feels like some kind of breakthrough, but it doesn't feel like a victory. no, instead it feels like a shitty stalemate. face scrunching, keith lets the stream of water fill in the silence for a long ten seconds before breaking it. ]

I don't wanna argue, Shiro. I don't wanna fight anymore. You're my family. Can't we just... get along like we used to?

[ he hesitates and hates himself a little more for it. but then he shakes loose the doubt and gives the expected reassurance. ]

Of course we can.

[ perhaps that isn’t true anymore, but shiro needs to believe that it is. they’ve kept it together all this time, despite the stressful, sometimes traumatic events they’ve gone through together and apart. they’ve kept calling each other family and best friend despite all the low points of their lives, the very ones they don’t talk about to each other. and they still love each other despite how they’ve both changed and are so very different from the two peas in a pod duo they were tearing down records at the garrison. if they’ve survived all that, surely they can overcome this as well.

and how best to ensure they right their course? heh. stop acting like any form of physical contact will have keith fracturing under his hands. so in the beat following those words, shiro slips his arm around keith, lining the span of his shoulders to grip his farthest one. he pulls keith in with gentle insistence and there, done, finally, he hugs him into his side. ]

You're my family too. [ a beat. ] And I care about you. [ he squeezes keith in a little more and ducks his head, knocking his cheek to wet hair. ]

So much that sometimes –... I go too far.

[ much too far. and not just in suggesting terrible scenarios. that drunken night had him pushing too far too, just to a very different end. ]

[ keith doesn't put up any resistance as shiro tugs him in close. in fact, he does damn near the opposite and presses his cheek against shiro's shoulder, leaning into the familiarity of the contact. fuck, it's been what -- two weeks of being cut off from physical comfort and affirming touch? the press of just his face turns into a full body lean as keith wraps his arms tight around his best friend's sides.

keith sits this way, twisted and face buried. he should probably find something to say, but nothing comes readily. their friendship's survived a lot over the years including a government cover up and hostile aliens, but the beating it's taken of late is different from all that. how exactly do you recover from the knowledge that you're one mindhack away from murdering someone you love? killing ren was keith's entire answer to this, but then here's shiro who, in his own words, is complicating things. he heaves a deep sigh, fingers digging in tight, tighter at shiro's hip. ]

I know you care about me. [ it's offered up in whisper soft tones, barely audible over the running water. ] ...but sometimes I don't think you realize just how important you are to me.

[ a beat, the mumbled somewhat into shiro's sleeve. ]

Kinda stings.

[ … and why doesn’t shiro realize how important he is? it took keith how many weeks to say three words back to him? as soon as he thinks it, shame floods shiro’s system and he just about forgets how to breathe through the ache that hollows out his chest. completely uncalled for. so goddamn unfair of him. shiro chose the worst possible moment to verbalize how deeply he cares for keith, so who is he to grumble about keith doing the same? fuck, how are they so bad at this?

i’m sorry is on his tongue again but he presses his lips together to stem the kneejerk reaction. what would that be? the third time in less than five minutes? he breathes out on a sigh and tries to relax his body as much as he can in the tight grip keith has on him, to be a more comfortable anchor as keith tries to both hold shiro and bury himself into him. it would almost be sweet if the circumstances were so utterly fucked.

whose fault is that? i’m sorry. he closes his eyes and squishes an already squished keith into the press of his cheek, his other arm coming round to complete the embrace. words are failing shiro. what is he meant to say to that other than the obvious? they lapse into silence once more for a handful of ticks but soon, he musters breath and states a rather rueful: ]

I think I have a pretty good idea now.

[ misplaced humor finds its way into that and he quirks a half smile to it, feeling rotten and wrong. another breath and that smile flattens out, eyes cracking open to settle on the drain. ]

Can you – [ they slip out before he’s given them any thought. he’s prompt though. he shuts up just like that. ] Nevermind.

[ shiro can't see, but the comment makes keith wrinkle his brow, somehwat despairing. shiro might have an idea now after keith's put on this fuucking spectacular show of being absolutely pathetic. cool. perfect. keeping his face carefully tucked out of sight, keith breathes through the mortification. maybe that isn't how shiro sees it though, if he's holding keith a pinch tighter.

there's a request before keith can mull that one over cmpletely -- only it gets cut off mid-way. he peeks up just enough to look at shiro with one eye.]

Hm? What is it?

[ self conscious, he assumes maybe it's a request to cling a little less. without confirming that, keith loosens up his fingers. better yet, maybe shiro wants to get out of the shower. ]

[ the nevermind is lame and minimal, of course keith follows up. shiro’s anticipating it, honestly, and yet, when keith peeks up with an ask, shiro is wholly unprepared. no plan b, no diversion tactic, just shiro lifting his head to peer down at that mostly hidden face, mouth slightly agape on words that have, once again, failed him. he has a want but it’s fragmented into pieces in his head, tangling deep with uncertainty over his right to even ask keith for it. shiro’s hurt him enough. overwhelmed him enough by telling him what to do. if keith wants to settle for family as before, without saying the other words… then fine, shiro doesn’t deserve to hear them unless they’re genuine and uncoached.

… but he’s selfish. and hurting too. he’s replayed those words over and over, tormenting himself with the brittleness of keith’s breath and the panic in his eyes as he desperately tried to reach shiro.

he hates that the first time he said i love you to keith, keith was dying. and he hates that the first time keith said the same to him, keith was once again knocking on death’s door. shiro will never forget that, fuck, he’ll never forgive himself either but… maybe he can begin to move past it if he has a second chance at hearing it. he huffs a truly miserable sound, smiling weakly, even as apprehension keeps his features pinched. ]

Can you say I love you again?

[ he hopes keith understands. that this one time he reads between the lines and sees the why, because it takes everything in shiro to simply ask, all explanation and lead-up deserting him. ]

[ .... that is just about the last thing keith was expecting shiro to ask for and it shows in the way his eyes go wide and color heats up his cheeks a beat later. despite ultimately wanting the same things, they haven’t been occupying a similar kind of headspace. this latest iteration of that fact just leaves keith speechless rather than angry. is it a welcome change...? yes? no? ]

Oh...

[ the flustered noise is out of keith’s mouth before he can think to stop it. even more damningly, there isn’t a follow up at the ready, again leaving running water to fill in a deafening gap. feeling very much like a deer caught in headlights, keith swallows and tries not to immediately duck away and hide his face. ]

I didn’t think... you cared?

[ but perhaps keith should have ended the thought at i didn’t think.. it’d be a blatant lie though, and not one keith thinks can survive any kind of cross examination through. of course it’d stuck with him that shiro s only reaction had been to snap the tendons in his hand and promptly return to another round of hermy the wormy.

or.. moldy shiro did. the real shiro hadn’t exactly brought it up either when he was clear headed. maybe there’d never been an opportune moment, but keith had just assumed this was just like the forgotten kisses after the festival. he swallows hard, dropping eye contact briefly to stare at shiro’s metal arm.

if he’s being honest he hasn’t felt the same way about that arm ever since that day, even if his feelings about the person it’s attached to are still much the same. pulling away very slightly, he does his best to hold eye contact without fidgeting. ]

... but of course I love you. [ a beat. nervousness gets the better of keith and he looks away sheepishly. ] That's been true for a really long time.

[ … ow. guess he deserved that one, huh? a rebuttal feels necessary. he was brain-jacked and ruined by mold, his inability to reciprocate keith’s confession comes with an asterisk. so he should say something. he can’t let such a ridiculous notion sit without shiro arguing how it makes so little sense for keith to reach that conclusion. but it’s like his energy has already been expended, down to the very last drop, and he no longer has the fight left in him. he’ll allow keith that arguably cheap shot; afterall, does shiro truly want to defend his ability to care with something along the lines of, hearing it made me stop my attempted murder and settle for maiming instead, so of course i cared.

so he sits through the beat of silence as keith oscillates on where to look, feeling a crushing sense of hopelessness the longer keith seems focused on his right arm. he shouldn’t have completed the embrace. he should have kept that thing away from him. though… as much as he’s been thinking of his prosthetic as the danger here, it’s all of shiro, really. the arm wrapped around keith’s shoulders? maybe that’s its own kind of weapon too. whatever happened in the living-room, however shiro reached inside keith… that can’t happen again, right? that was a cursed affliction of the mold, wasn’t it?

he’s been deluding himself for weeks now and he’s mostly convinced, but –

but of course i love you.

he exhales a breath he didn’t fully comprehend as being held and while the next breath is heavy, it’s somehow easier than a few moments ago. he’s – relieved? yes. that’s the emotion taking hold of him in rapid fashion. keith has been far too giving toward shiro for far too long now, so shiro didn’t actually think keith would deny him this request, but still. it hits home and it hits hard.

shiro straightens up a little more, wanting to see keith fully, needing to see him fully, to replace the image in his head of keith struggling beneath him, gaze full of absolute terror. having just thought about keeping his galra hand away from keith, it’s almost comical how easily shiro forgets in his rush to get those eyes back on him. he takes keith by the chin and – gently – forces his face toward him. a little nervous, a little sheepish, keith is far from the ideal, but it’s so much better than what shiro had before and instantly, shiro relaxes, throat once again feeling tight.

relief has his breath tumbling on a laugh. short. light. not more than a hiccup. and then he’s pushing keith’s wet bangs back. ]

I love you too.

[ that’s been true for a really long time too. forehead adequately cleared, shiro leans in and presses a kiss to keith’s skin, right there dead center, holding, holding, hold–… three seconds spent and he backs off, fervently promising: ]

I’m going to take better care of you from here on out. [ and. ] We’re gonna get through this.

[ keith is very content to keep his gaze fixed at a point other than shiro's face, but it's looking like shiro isn't on the same page there, huh? not surprising, given how this whole conversation gone, but the press of metal fingers hooking under his chin makes keith tense very briefly. unlike that time two weeks ago, the prosthetic feels warm on his skin, and coaxing rather than painful. it's still an extra beat before keith pushes away the unease entirely to breathe normally.

but he'd be lying if he said the galra arm was the only reason for the added skittishness. eyes locked on deep gray, keith swallows trying to silence every neuron in his head freaking out about the scant inches between their faces. shiro doesn't know. shiro doesn't remember. this isn't a prelude to kissing the way they did weeks earlier. heart racing, keith tries to keep his head blank of all thought, expression almost owlish as shiro bursts into relieved laughter and sweeps the hair away from his face.

ah. ah yes -- right. this is famiiliar. this is what they were doing before things got complicated and messy and tangled and --

i love you too

keith doesn't know what expression he's even pulling at this point, but maybe it doesn't matter because shiro closes the distance in that familiar way. hearing the words said back like that, looked right in the eye does a whole host of stupid things. a swoop in his stomach, a dull ache in his chest, then the flutter-flutter of warmth that starts to erode through whatever defenses keith had left in his system. stupid. shiro's said these words before ... but it hits different. maybe because they're both so fucking miserable and lonely.

the gentle pressure on his forehead lifts and keith looks up at shiro, daring for once to actually look at him longingly the way he did when he was sure shiro wasn't looking these past weeks. he doesn't smile -- not while part of him is just burning to force shiro to remember the night of the festival, but can he? should he? ]

Yeah?

[ his tone's gone wistful there as he glances down at his best friend's lips very briefly. ]

We're gonna take care of each other. No matter what, right?

[ it’s barely anything at all. shiro would’ve missed it if he wasn’t so close, staring at keith’s face. keith’s gaze drops and it’s only then, when keith resumes eye contact, that shiro begins to understand what it is he’s seeing. that’s not relief staring back at him. that’s yearning. keith’s talking but he sounds far away, even with scant inches between them, because shiro’s head is suddenly full of questions and options and fears and above all else, wants that are so loud they nearly drown out everything else.

does keith want to kiss him? does shiro want to kiss him? he shouldn’t want to. that’s not the question. he thinks about it almost every night, of how they came together so easily with one kiss, two, keith falling asleep in his arms. maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it really was having the comforting presence of keith in his bed, but it was one of his better nights. no insomnia, no night terrors once exhaustion finally took him – it was such a good night in so many ways and yet, what did he do once he opened his eyes to keith soft-eyed with sleep and the worst case of bed head he’s ever seen? he cowered in the face of that little slice of paradise and denied himself of it without hesitation.

they hadn’t chose that for themselves. drink had been in their system. they’d been influenced. vulnerable. he couldn’t bring himself to collect on a lapse in keith’s judgment. and afterward? hours to days later of him mulling over his dishonesty? he meant to bring it up and talk through the elephant in the room of whatever has been brewing between keith and him, but again, fear had him pushing it off, always telling himself later. later became never after hermy the wormy and now they’re here. keith is the most important person to him here and back home, if shiro screws up this friendship with some misplaced desire…

so he doesn’t lean in. vulnerable repeats in his mind and he thinks of how keith’s emotions are rubbed raw right now. you’d be taking advantage of him. it’s with that thought that shiro once again tells himself later and goes the much safer route of smiling in that soft way of his, vowing with a repeat of: ]

Right. No matter what.

[ deal sealed, shiro tightens his arm to hold keith in for one last, firm squeeze and then relaxes his grip, arm releasing keith’s shoulder. ]

How about we start that by getting out of this shower and into some dry clothes? [ as much as he enjoys sticking it to adi by running up the water bill, they do need to get out at some point. better sooner than later seeing as keith’s been in here – what? over half an hour. he smiles encouragingly, giving keith a nudge with a bump of his shoulder and sweetens the prospect: ]

I made us some ramen. [ er. oh yeah, about that. actually – ] but… it’s probably cold by now. I can reheat it?

[ the moment holds for one agonizing beat, then another. keith swallows, consumed with indecision. is it cowardice keeping him in place? maybe -- definitely, but then shiro starts pulling away and the window of opportunity slips out between his fingers. keith doesn't know if he's relieved or disappointed, but it's clear enough that shiro wants to move on.

he ought to be perfectly placated. we're going to take care of each other no matter what is a position diametrically opposed to use lethal force on me if you have to, but somehow he doubts the matter has actually been resolved. one way or another though, it's what keith wants to hear in the moment so he lets the issue drop. in much the same way that the non-issue of kisses is also dropped.

it's for the best. keith repeats the thought to himself, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. they're family. family don't kiss like that. and moreover, everything's a fucking mess right now. when will it ever not be a mess? is the logical question that comes up, but of course it can't be given any room to breathe. what is happening instead is a shoulder nudge and the offer of cold ramen. he swallows, forcing a tiny half smile. he isn't hungry really, but this is at least a step towards normalcy. ]

Okay. [ he breathes out, then slowly gets to his feet. ] ... But I still need to wash my hair, so....I'll see you in a bit?

[ with keith moving, it’s only natural for shiro to follow suit. he’s quicker in his movements than keith is, but they both hit their heights at about the same time. and once there? with keith deciding he isn’t going to crank the knob and follow shiro out of the shower right here, right now? shiro just barely resists the urge to frown.

keith assured him he hadn’t fallen. it wasn’t unsteady legs that had keith huddled into himself on the floor, no, the culprit was an unsteady mind. still, now that they’ve, more or less, weathered the turmoil and righted the mess of the warehouse, as well as the mess between them, shiro is reluctant to let keith out of his sight. keith had made himself sick not too long ago; what if he gets caught up in his head and feels queasy or hopeless again? shiro knows what that’s like, when solitude turns volatile and every terrible memory and insecurity surfaces to ravage the mind.

when there’s no one nearby to act as an anchor, it’s easy to get lost.

but – shiro hesitates on overstaying his welcome. keith’s dismissed him, so shiro should trust keith to know himself and take care of himself in such a minimal task, right? ]

Okay… [ he gets as far as shuffling to the other side of the stall, once again at the doorway, freshly sprayed. there are two towels hanging from the towel rack and he really ought to be grabbing one for a quick wipe down, but he can't help asking: ]

You’ll… be alright?

[ alright is relative, and sure -- keith will be alright. once the initial pathetic thought of wait, don't go... subsides. shiro is quicker on his feet, and keith watches in silence as the damp white shirt clings to and accentuates his best friend's chest and back.

he shouldn't be looking. that much is obvious, but keith is slow to drop his gaze and squirt shampoo into his hand. ]

Yeah, I'll be fine.

[ it's a quiet reply though as keith grapples with himself over whether or not to be honest. there's arguably been too much of that already and it's already led to one narrowly avoided argument. but then again, maybe that's just a reason to get it all over with so they can actually start fresh tomorrow. he worries at his lip before looking up again. ]

...Can I ask something?

[ fine. why does that word never instill a sense of confidence? even so, the doubt isn’t quite strong enough to overcome the more potent desire to allow keith the courtesy of saving face. if he says he’s fine, he’s determined to see this through himself, so, shiro reaches for that towel. ]

Okay.

[ there isn’t much he can do about the clothing. the shirt clings and the sweats, particularly the slightly longer, pooled cuffs of his feet, are heavy with water. he’ll be making little puddles all the way back to his room. however, he does try to minimize it by delaying there at the shower door, patting down one arm and then the other. he’s just beginning to pull the cloth wider in preparation of flipping it higher, to tousle his hair with a thorough rubdown but he pauses and looks back to keith at the question.

shitty, obvious jokes aside of how keith should be asking if he can ask two things, seeing as he already expended one question, shiro tilts his head, smiling small. ]

Of course.

[ ...woah. so shiro isn't going to punish the unfortunately worded question with some old-timer teasing. keith isn't sure if the mercy is a good or bad sign, but it does make him pause. and then pause some more before he kicks himself into saying something. ]

Okay.

[ feeling neither okay nor eloquent, keith flusters and again drops his gaze back to the drain if only because that seems like a far safer place to be looking as he works through his thoughts. ... for all the good that the attempt does him. the issue is an abstract one that keith doesn't quite know how to put words to. do you wanna kiss a little? might be one distillation of it, but even in his head it sounds so crude that it makes keith fluster harder.

deep breath, deep breath.

and then he just gives up and blurts: ]

You think of me as a little brother, right?

[ … okay, that isn’t anything remotely close to what shiro is anticipating. it feels like it’s straight out of left field, though, perhaps it shouldn’t feel like that at all. he guessed that the question would be seeking one last reassurance before shiro ducks out and microwave zaps their cup noodles into oblivion. this is that, isn’t it? best friends, family, brothers: all of it is reaffirmation that they love and value each other. if that’s true though, why is he hesitating?

he’s been tossing family and brother around in his head without batting an eye for months now but something about hearing it in keith’s voice, specifically with little brother, is off-putting, although he can’t exactly put his finger on the why. it reminds him of the beginning, when he was playing mentor to a tentatively willing mentee. it speaks of power imbalance and uneven footing, and although shiro likes to pull rank in a team dynamic they don’t technically have anymore, he more often thinks of keith and him as equals.

all of this is a crock. if keith had dropped little, shiro would still be wrinkling his nose on an inexplicable feeling of unease. brothers neither think nor engage in kissing each other on the mouth. most of all, they certainly don’t crave it while continuously telling themselves no.

lie. lie. say yes or at the very least, nod his head and be done with this discussion before the truth of the matter comes to light. he can’t. fine. then come clean. say no and say he remembers that night, and still thinks about it often. he can’t do that either.

so shiro evades, giving a generalized: ]

I think of you as family.

...

[ keith's expression goes a little distant as he looks back down to the drain. that doesn't answer a pretty straightforward yes or no question, and keith doesn't know what to make of the brush off. it's not a yes -- meaning he should get over whatever this feeling is, but it's not a no either which means wallowing in this no-man's land of ambiguity.

but considering a reaffirmation that they're family tips closer to a yes than a no, keith wonders if shiro's just awkwardly trying to let him down easy. keith holds that thought, then sighs as he gives shiro a tiny nod. ]

Just family in general then. 'Kay.

[ not that keith would really know what the hell that feeling is even like considering his whole blood familuy had consisted of one very specific role. turning to face the water hdead on, he turns the hot water up even further. what he really ought to be saying here is something like a later, rather than leave shiro hanging, but ... it's not like shiro's given him any solid closure to work with either. ]

[ shiro isn’t so blind here. keith’s body language screams mistake on shiro’s part, as does the dullness of keith’s voice, and shiro struggles, briefly, within himself, once again debating the merits of saying how he really feels. the problem is that shiro doesn’t understand what it is he feels or more truthfully, what it is he wants out of those feelings. inevitably, he falls back on his favorite word: later. he’s been dismissed; even with two ruined hands, keith would rather handle the rest of this shower alone than ask shiro for help. if that isn’t a wake-up call that shiro’s screwed up, then nothing else is… not that shiro actually follows through with that sour, defeated feeling. ]

I’ll uh – leave you to it.

[ awkwardly standing there like an absolute idiot, holding a towel and staring at keith longer than necessary after being given the dreaded kay, shiro bites his teeth harder together and closes his eyes, giving his hair that one, two rub, before draping the towel around his neck. a sigh follows, as well as a deliberately upbeat: ]

See you in a few minutes.

[ he hopes it’s a few minutes. between the hands and keith’s completely soaked outfit, it might take him a good while to make it to his room. shiro’s turning away though and taking with him every last chance that he’ll right his most recent blunder. later, always later.

and so, the rest of the evening goes like this:

it does take keith more than a few minutes to make it to shiro’s room, dry and dressed in comfy pajamas. shiro's underestimated the time and ended up reheating the cup noodles too early, so they’re closer to warm, edging on lukewarm by the time they are both settled on the bed, picking through the noodles. if shiro seems overinvested in his food, it’s only due to soppy, broken noodles being the safer option. yes, safer than the slickness of keith’s hair and the waves keeping at his nape despite how the water should be weighing them down. it makes him want to twirl his finger around one wayward flip and make the curl tighter, smaller.

so yes. noodles.

perhaps that’s why the conversation turns. in some ploy to clear the air that is still so obviously thick with something – awkwardness, uncertainty?? – they agree to a pseudo game of truth. one question each; no boundaries, no restrictions, everything is on the table. shiro asks about keith’s left hand. originally, shortly after it first happened, keith gave shiro the brush off of him trying something that didn’t work. here, shiro gets the truth that keith was trying to phase his hand through his phone, busting both his phone and his hand in the process. well, that explains why most of shiro’s texts and calls went unanswered in the immediate aftermath of him being de-molded.

speaking of phasing… guess shiro set up the returning question. how did you maim my hand? shiro will reason with himself that he doesn’t know for certain, which is why it’s completely valid for him to be vague in his answer. he blames the mold. the game affected him more deeply than keith, so it must have done something to him, to grant him a temporary ability to take out any and all competition. afterall, it’s not like he can still do it now that the mold has been removed.

… that might not be entirely true. he hasn’t actively tried, unlike keith, heh, but he has a sense that it isn’t going to be that easily concluded. whether keith buys shiro’s explanation or not is up for debate, but it doesn’t matter much, not when shiro is quick to change the subject into simpler, brighter things, such as the upcoming holiday. they’re behind a few weeks in the decoration department and that should be remedied as soon as possible. perhaps tomorrow, if keith is feeling up to shiro taking him to go shopping for candy canes and a miniature tree.

it’s to this that the evening winds down. the cup noodles are cleared and the boys settle down into the pillows, discussing at length where they’re going to set up this tree and what they’re going to dress it up with. shiro’s youtube channel is picking up and he has more disposable income, but he doesn’t have the kind needed to blow on overpriced ribbons and ornaments. strings of popcorn are a thing, aren’t they?

the events of the day catch up with a heavy dosing of exhaustion and keith nods off first, though shiro isn’t far behind as he drifts off into a light doze; one that becomes deeper after a good while of listening to keith’s steady breathing. and again, it turns out to be one of shiro’s better nights, as well as better mornings, when they wake up huddled together. ]

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a brotherly ending.