[ the cum isn’t even dry yet and here they are, talking about things that run the risk of turning this intermission into a permanent hiatus. keith sits up and shiro feels the dread fill his lungs with the next breath. he’s gone and said the wrong thing, hasn’t he? what they mean to each other and what the future holds for them is a conversation they need to have; truthfully, sex is the prime time to verbalize how they feel. but it’s tainted with the realization that how they feel doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. so why are they talking about it now, when they could have left it at special and kept to that blissful happiness?
it’s not keith’s fault, he reminds himself. shiro said too much, too, and encouraged the boy into the kind of honesty that their situation doesn’t allow for. even so, it’s easy to give into the general frustration: at prison sentences, at himself for becoming compromised, at keith for saying out loud the things he wants, that they both want but aren’t allowed to say…
and for cornering him with that.
caught off guard, he visibly hesitates, eyes blinking wider and hands squeezing, briefly, at keith’s hips. the answer is easy: yes. yes, of course, he misses the keith from his reality. that keith is the brat kid who stole his jeep, broke his records, and kept him perpetually on his toes. he’s also the boy turned man who became shiro’s steady support through the most confusing times of his life. the incidents in which he’s compared notes with the keith before him, their pasts have aligned, so in that sense, this keith could be that very same boy. but he’s not just that boy. whereas shiro has watched ( most ) of his keith’s growth, this keith has gone beyond that. he’s calmer than his keith. more mature and more together; the confidence isn’t forever strong, but this keith has a presence to him that his keith hasn’t grown into yet.
they’re similar in so many ways, yet vastly unique in others. understanding this, shiro appreciates them both for different reasons… but he continues to hesitate, unable to let go of the suspicion that keith is in the midst of pulling away. that shiro is one wrong answer away from having keith call it for the night. why wouldn’t he think that? keith can’t even look him in the eyes. ]
no subject
it’s not keith’s fault, he reminds himself. shiro said too much, too, and encouraged the boy into the kind of honesty that their situation doesn’t allow for. even so, it’s easy to give into the general frustration: at prison sentences, at himself for becoming compromised, at keith for saying out loud the things he wants, that they both want but aren’t allowed to say…
and for cornering him with that.
caught off guard, he visibly hesitates, eyes blinking wider and hands squeezing, briefly, at keith’s hips. the answer is easy: yes. yes, of course, he misses the keith from his reality. that keith is the brat kid who stole his jeep, broke his records, and kept him perpetually on his toes. he’s also the boy turned man who became shiro’s steady support through the most confusing times of his life. the incidents in which he’s compared notes with the keith before him, their pasts have aligned, so in that sense, this keith could be that very same boy. but he’s not just that boy. whereas shiro has watched ( most ) of his keith’s growth, this keith has gone beyond that. he’s calmer than his keith. more mature and more together; the confidence isn’t forever strong, but this keith has a presence to him that his keith hasn’t grown into yet.
they’re similar in so many ways, yet vastly unique in others. understanding this, shiro appreciates them both for different reasons… but he continues to hesitate, unable to let go of the suspicion that keith is in the midst of pulling away. that shiro is one wrong answer away from having keith call it for the night. why wouldn’t he think that? keith can’t even look him in the eyes. ]
This feels like a trap.