[ shiro has no concept for the passage of time. minutes, hours, days…? for all he knows, he’s become a permanent fixture on this stage. or at least, that has been his foggy mindframe for the past few hours. the drug is potent, with an onset that hits quickly, but as with everything, duration is not everlasting. the effects wane slowly, breath by breath as his system filters out the drug. faintly, he’s aware of the forming crowd at the base of the stage, but he’s yet to feel any distress for their stares and indistinguishable words. he’s numb, still; numb to anything beyond the contented buzz of his brain, the one that keeps him relaxed in his bindings.
the drug has him running hot, however. so he keeps making these soft panting sounds into the mouthpiece, feeling the lightest sheen of sweat at his nape and his forehead, neither of which he can wipe away. even that doesn’t distress him. he tries, occasionally, to lift an arm to brush the wetness away, only to remember that oh yeah, he can’t move his arms. still, he doesn’t activate his galra arm to burn through the bindings. he doesn’t even think to. he doesn’t think to do much of anything except blink slow and drowsy, staring without truly seeing as minutes continue to drag and drag…
but then keith shows up.
he hears his name a few times, but it isn’t until keith is physically in front of him, so close that shiro can do nothing other than see him, that shiro finally remembers how to do something more than pant. he whines, instead.
keith. keith. he knows this boy. he loves this boy. everything is wonderful and safe and wanted when he is with keith. his brain may be too cotton-stuffed to process much of anything, but he doesn’t need to consciously think that through to know it. keith is here, which means here is where shiro wants to be.
the hands on his face are good. so good. briefly, shiro’s eyes slide shut and he sways into those hands, grabbling something that sounds suspiciously close to keith’s name. eyes reopen and even with them remaining glassy and void of sharp awareness, a hint of determination settles into his features. for the first time in hours, he shifts his body, trying to wriggle in his bindings to get closer to keith: he lean against, to bury against, to be as close as keith will allow him to be.
… which doesn’t go over well with the two sentries at the other end of the stage, which turn and begin advancing. if keith isn’t here to use the funnel, then his access to the stage is to be revoked. ]
ino. i should do better in shielding our secret fans from such eye filth
the drug has him running hot, however. so he keeps making these soft panting sounds into the mouthpiece, feeling the lightest sheen of sweat at his nape and his forehead, neither of which he can wipe away. even that doesn’t distress him. he tries, occasionally, to lift an arm to brush the wetness away, only to remember that oh yeah, he can’t move his arms. still, he doesn’t activate his galra arm to burn through the bindings. he doesn’t even think to. he doesn’t think to do much of anything except blink slow and drowsy, staring without truly seeing as minutes continue to drag and drag…
but then keith shows up.
he hears his name a few times, but it isn’t until keith is physically in front of him, so close that shiro can do nothing other than see him, that shiro finally remembers how to do something more than pant. he whines, instead.
keith. keith. he knows this boy. he loves this boy. everything is wonderful and safe and wanted when he is with keith. his brain may be too cotton-stuffed to process much of anything, but he doesn’t need to consciously think that through to know it. keith is here, which means here is where shiro wants to be.
the hands on his face are good. so good. briefly, shiro’s eyes slide shut and he sways into those hands, grabbling something that sounds suspiciously close to keith’s name. eyes reopen and even with them remaining glassy and void of sharp awareness, a hint of determination settles into his features. for the first time in hours, he shifts his body, trying to wriggle in his bindings to get closer to keith: he lean against, to bury against, to be as close as keith will allow him to be.
… which doesn’t go over well with the two sentries at the other end of the stage, which turn and begin advancing. if keith isn’t here to use the funnel, then his access to the stage is to be revoked. ]