[ if shiro weren’t currently having heart palpations and stress-induced cotton-mouth, he’d find this fascinating. this being the progression of keith’s deduction skills. shiro can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. he certainly can see each shift in his thinking, with the way keith looks this way and that, an assortment of emotions playing across his features from confusion to denial to suspicion to apprehension. when that scrutiny lands on his cock, shiro fights the impulse to steal a move from keith’s playbook and cover his crotch. he squirms, once, simply because it eases his nervousness for a grand total of one tick and then resettles, letting keith gawk and critique for however long he needs to.
turns out, it isn’t much longer after that.
keith looks up, locks eyes and… – god, it was a mistake to let go of his hands, because now shiro’s are empty. meaning, he doesn’t know what to do with them as his own apprehension spikes. fiddling his thumb and fingers together in each hand, his pinches and rolls the pads together, soon shifting to hooking his thumbnails on that of his middle fingers to make this soft, repetitive clicking sounds.
this is it. this is his last opening to laugh, smile, and say something half-convincing to divert them from the truth of their history. he’s surprisingly cowardly when it comes to keith, at least in terms of maintaining the strength of their bond, so he almost takes it. he almost takes the out.
but he presses his lips together on a grimace and composes himself after a glance down at the sheets. the fiddling with his nails has stopped and once again at a loss of what to occupy his hands with, he ends up self-soothing with a palm to his nape, rubbing back and forth as he looks to keith once more. slowly, he nods. just once. and then: ]
I'm anonymous. [ a beat. ] You know, with the smileys.
no subject
turns out, it isn’t much longer after that.
keith looks up, locks eyes and… – god, it was a mistake to let go of his hands, because now shiro’s are empty. meaning, he doesn’t know what to do with them as his own apprehension spikes. fiddling his thumb and fingers together in each hand, his pinches and rolls the pads together, soon shifting to hooking his thumbnails on that of his middle fingers to make this soft, repetitive clicking sounds.
this is it. this is his last opening to laugh, smile, and say something half-convincing to divert them from the truth of their history. he’s surprisingly cowardly when it comes to keith, at least in terms of maintaining the strength of their bond, so he almost takes it. he almost takes the out.
but he presses his lips together on a grimace and composes himself after a glance down at the sheets. the fiddling with his nails has stopped and once again at a loss of what to occupy his hands with, he ends up self-soothing with a palm to his nape, rubbing back and forth as he looks to keith once more. slowly, he nods. just once. and then: ]
I'm anonymous. [ a beat. ] You know, with the smileys.
[ does that need a distinction? ]