[ keith can't and doesn't pretend to know the ins and outs of his best friend's state of mind. there's always been selective topics that have been banned from discourse for one reason or another, but given just a tiny peek into shiro's headspace, it always feels he carries a disproportionate amount of baggage.

it's been years now, but keith still vividly remembers the day he'd learned about shiro's muscular dystrophy years after the fact of them spending all that time together racing in the desert when shiro could have and probably should have been resting aching muscles. heh. shiro's never really been the sort to open up at all -- not about anything that truly weighs him down. it's messed up to find even a pinprick of comfort in this shiro being every bit as stubborn about himself, but the fact of the matter is that this moment here with his best friend covering up his hand and talking earnestly makes keith happier than he knows what to do with.

his own head clear of the angry buzzing from earlier, keith actually manages a laugh -- a soft, airy thing that tickles the back of shiro's ear. ]

Heh. Doubt there's much you could do to get me to think less of you, Shiro.

[ for better or for worse. even when keith had been convinced the clone was the real shiro and that the real shiro had been trying to kill him, he still earnestly believed in shiro. he wonders though, if something like that is more burden than comfort to hear. keith shifts a little lower, nose pressed to shiro's neck, his lips less than an inch away from touching skin. ]

You have no idea how glad I am you're here, too.

[ and no idea just to what lengths keith would go to follow shiro wherever it is. whether that happens to be porn prison or off the edge of a collapsing platform into oblivion. ]

Even if I still think you should be on a nice beach with a pina colada.