[ shiro still can’t read him. is it a bad thing that shiro is suggesting a do over? is that adding insult to injury? keith sounds amused, if only faintly, so shiro wants to believe he hasn’t set them up for failure, but hope can only deceive fear for so long, his confidence, once again, waning. so the massage hasn’t been accomplishing much of anything. if anything, shiro feels more tense than he did when he first sat down. keith with his hands at his shoulder blades and shiro with his hands at his own thighs, together they wait it out, both seemingly holding their breaths over what this moment is meant to become.
it’s not just to humor me?
it’s not the ideal reaction, but – it’s okay. it’s workable. what is not, however, is that he’s played by keith’s rules too long. this feels like an opening and one that shiro is quick to take as he finally gives up on allowing keith all that space. he twists around, careful and slow, knee knocking to the edge of the bed as he half-turns in his seat. ]
No. [ there he is, looking a little small and looking a lot miserable. shiro’s heart gives a pained lurch in his chest, eyes soft under a furrowed brow. ] I’m not humoring you.
[ this bed is atrocious. it’s narrow and flimsy, the springs creaking with too much weight. so there’s a bit of a racket when shiro moves again, this time climbing up on the bed – the cot, more like – to settle beside keith, facing him with legs tucked underneath himself. ]
I want this for us.
[ he has half a mind to simply pluck that boy up and drag him into his lap, to hug him tight and steady until that frown clears. he reaches for his hand instead, catching it between a layering of both of his own, squeezing gently. ]
So will you do that for me? [ voice sweet, smile sweeter. ] Will you make love to me again?
... THAT WAS SUCH A SHIRO JOKE
it’s not just to humor me?
it’s not the ideal reaction, but – it’s okay. it’s workable. what is not, however, is that he’s played by keith’s rules too long. this feels like an opening and one that shiro is quick to take as he finally gives up on allowing keith all that space. he twists around, careful and slow, knee knocking to the edge of the bed as he half-turns in his seat. ]
No. [ there he is, looking a little small and looking a lot miserable. shiro’s heart gives a pained lurch in his chest, eyes soft under a furrowed brow. ] I’m not humoring you.
[ this bed is atrocious. it’s narrow and flimsy, the springs creaking with too much weight. so there’s a bit of a racket when shiro moves again, this time climbing up on the bed – the cot, more like – to settle beside keith, facing him with legs tucked underneath himself. ]
I want this for us.
[ he has half a mind to simply pluck that boy up and drag him into his lap, to hug him tight and steady until that frown clears. he reaches for his hand instead, catching it between a layering of both of his own, squeezing gently. ]
So will you do that for me? [ voice sweet, smile sweeter. ] Will you make love to me again?