[ shiro catches keith by the shoulder and holds him through the lean, though, with the helmet in one hand and something else requiring his assistance, that steadying doesn't last long. the helmet hair endures somewhat and despite shiro’s best efforts to keep up the act, that pouty frown twitches, breaks, and curls on the beginnings of a smile. dammit. he rolls his eyes to compensate but he’s pushing back keith’s hair with his left hand a moment after.

so they’ve switched expressions. now, keith’s the one pouting and shiro’s the one smiling as he ( begrudgingly ) finds his amusement. ]

Uh huh. [ shiro doesn’t buy it. he chuckles, brief and light. ] So it had nothing to do with you getting a thrill out of it either.

[ for the record, shiro isn’t digging through his pouch to retrieve the key. keith will have to endure the handcuffs awhile longer. so his hand that drops down to keith’s hip? it’s not to fiddle with the handcuffs. it’s there to smooth his palm over that jumpsuit wrapped tight over his ass cheek. ]

It’s not like you enjoyed leading me around, evading me every time I gave chase. [ and now shiro squeezes. ] You certainly didn’t love sticking your ass up at me before zooming off.