[ keith grimaces through the initial jut of stubbornness, but nothing more. he keeps the tension on his elbow just the same, coaxing shiro to scooch back until gradually their boeis line up back to chest, chest to back. it's at this point keith supposes he ought to be removing his arm, but upon hearing what shiro has to say, that extra bit of touch quickly becomes an anchoring point, tethering the two of them together.
shiro's never said much about his time in captivity with the galra. in some ways, maybe he never had to. if a picture is worth a thousand words, then the many scars on criss crossed on his best friend's body are an entire unspoken odyseey of self-explanatory horror. thinking about it, it's messed up isn't it? keith and shiro haven't had the chance to properly decompress what happened that year, and now somewhere back in his own reality, that may never happen just on account of the trauma of the clone's existence. and maybe even that will just pass on along as yet another unspoken horror simply because the war is unending and who knows what the next bit of psychologixal damage will be?
it's an impotent wish at best, but keith hopes that whatever it is, the universe is done chewing on shiro and will finally cut him a break.
but maybe it never will. from galra prison to porn prison, shiro really does have the most messed up shit happen to him, huh? lost for words, keith unconsciously tightens his grip around his best friend's waist, forehead bumping lightly against the back of his head. ]
I'm sorry. [ the response is just about the lamest thing in the world and keith grimaces yet again for the fucking platitude. ] I wish the universe could have sent you somewhere nice for a change. I can't think of anyone who deserves to be relaxing on a beach more than you.
[ keith laughs, quiet and a little bitter. ]
...I just want you to know that you can talk to me. If there's anything I can do to make this place even a little less terrible for you, you know I'd do it in a heartbeat. Whether that's us talking or me finding you something to punch ...or you know. Helping with sheets.
[ voice going quiet, keith trails off and swallows. ]
no subject
shiro's never said much about his time in captivity with the galra. in some ways, maybe he never had to. if a picture is worth a thousand words, then the many scars on criss crossed on his best friend's body are an entire unspoken odyseey of self-explanatory horror. thinking about it, it's messed up isn't it? keith and shiro haven't had the chance to properly decompress what happened that year, and now somewhere back in his own reality, that may never happen just on account of the trauma of the clone's existence. and maybe even that will just pass on along as yet another unspoken horror simply because the war is unending and who knows what the next bit of psychologixal damage will be?
it's an impotent wish at best, but keith hopes that whatever it is, the universe is done chewing on shiro and will finally cut him a break.
but maybe it never will. from galra prison to porn prison, shiro really does have the most messed up shit happen to him, huh? lost for words, keith unconsciously tightens his grip around his best friend's waist, forehead bumping lightly against the back of his head. ]
I'm sorry. [ the response is just about the lamest thing in the world and keith grimaces yet again for the fucking platitude. ] I wish the universe could have sent you somewhere nice for a change. I can't think of anyone who deserves to be relaxing on a beach more than you.
[ keith laughs, quiet and a little bitter. ]
...I just want you to know that you can talk to me. If there's anything I can do to make this place even a little less terrible for you, you know I'd do it in a heartbeat. Whether that's us talking or me finding you something to punch ...or you know. Helping with sheets.
[ voice going quiet, keith trails off and swallows. ]
We're in this together, okay?