[ ⦠but why? two words sound off in his head and keithās suddenly stuck, entirely blind to the point that shiro is trying to make. overwhelming, right, keith anticipates that, too, but his solution has always been a simple deal with it. telling shiro would lead to⦠what? what would shiro do to remedy it? itās not as though shiro can stop feeling. so putting that on shiro, like shiro simply existing and feeling any number of things is a burden on keithā¦
fuck no.
keith has no intention of making shiro feel guilty over living, breathing, being. but shiro knows him enough to call him out. he clamps his lips together, promptly sputtering at the cheeky, little wink. dammit shiro. he looks to the side, mouth pulling hard to one side as well, caught in the way that he has no means to actually deny considering a little, white lie. good-humored stays his mood though and heās not actually upset for being pushed into a corner⦠because he has an easy way out. ]
Iāll tell you. [ he puts the towel down on the sinkās counter. ] But my threshold for overwhelming is pretty high.
[ meaning? yeah, no, heās never going to bring it up to shiro. ]
āŖ even with a warning, keith is somehow able to cheat his way out of lying. well played, you lil shit. once a gremlin always a gremlin, and shiro rolls his eyes on a snorted laugh, momentarily forgetting about the potential gravity of⦠whatever being connected on such a deep level could lead to. ā«
So you wonāt. āŖ look. he knows just how resilient keith has always been. despite the many struggles that painted his youth, he stands stronger than ever; he overcame them all. he continues to do so, with added strain on his back because of shiroās own pains. itās pointless to tell him to let them go, which is, ironically, one of said painsāheās never wanted keith to suffer on his behalf. the thought sobers him up a little, the laugh subsides, and he sighs somewhat resigned, a flat, lopsided smile. ā«
Just so you know⦠Iāll never pry. āŖ so that thing about lying earlier was nothing more than a tease, though he needs to amend: ā« Never willingly. Itās too early to tell whether Iāve got the hang of it, but I promise never toā āŖ cough. ā« ānever to tress⦠tressā āŖ and he wheezes. chokes on a lack of sudden air, lungs clogged up as he coughs and knocks his knuckles against his chest. he tastes bitter sugar. pollen. itās there on his tongue, coating the back of his mouth. quickly he grabs the towel on the counter and spits into it, cheeks pink, and there it is: a petal. almost intact, too, bright red, and he clears his throat a few times more and he sweats, inhaling and exhaling as deeply as he can. ā« Sorry. āŖ he wipes his lips uselessly, hoping to distract from his growing agitation. ā« Whew. I uh⦠should probably go get some air.
[ keithās lucky to have shiro as his soulmate. kind, supportive, and entirely understanding of not only boundaries, but keithās particularly rigid boundaries. he wonāt go so far as to say shiro never pushes or tries to peer past keithās guard, but he cares enough to be patient and look for the signs of being too-much. just-enough is what works between them and as always, keith is extremely grateful that shiro took a shining to him all those years ago. keith only hopes that he can be a worthy soulmate in return.
so far? he appears to be failing on that front.
oh. heās sick, too. but rather than a tickle in the throat and a cough that comes and goes, shiroās illness is ā violent. keith freezes up as it all unfolds, staring wide-eyed and useless. shiro coughs and keith knows he should be helping. somehow, some way. rub his back through the worst of it? get him some water? he canāt think of what to do in the moment, however, and so, his hands remain at his sides as shiro does all the work himself of grabbing the towel and knocking hard at his own chest. the wheezing hurts his ears, as does the sputter for breath as lungs lock up. keith feels his own labor through his next shallow inhale, pinpricks of pain catching inside his chest and climbing up his throat, some imagined lump seemingly working its way up. he swallows it back, however, expression drawn with anxiety and fright, only to collapse entirely when shiroās breath settles enough for him to say an apology.
what? ]
Thatās it? You just ā
[ forgot how to breathe in front of him and now heās saying sorry? keith doesnāt handle it well. exasperation is easier to navigate than the helplessness of his uncertainty. shiro doesnāt deserve this: the vampirism, the shrinking, the sickness. he definitely doesnāt deserve keith not-quite-yelling, but huffy, anxiety-ridden commentary. nonetheless, he canāt silence himself. ]
And you want air? Of course you do, you were just⦠[ he makes vague gestures with his hands, only to give up to cross his arms. ] You have it too, donāt you? Whateverās going around.
āŖ ā¦thereās no way he could possibly pass it off as, like. the common cold or something. is there. the petal is probably a little too incriminating as is, though with some luck, maybe keith has yet to notice its crimson evidence in the crook of shiroās palm, shawled in a piece of cloth. heās making a point not to uncurl his fingers, too, keeping the cursed treasure secured between his thighs. but keith knows. even without fully knowing.
and heās mad.
fear is often like that, when you care for someone. the lines between dread and anger blur, one bleeding into the other. emotions are hard. theyāre hard for him and he knows theyāre a challenge for keith, who was barely allowed a chance to really⦠wade through them. tame them. survival prevailed, and honestly, shiro could learn a trick or two from him because clearly itās not the kind of instinct he possesses.
he winces, caught. grimaces his way through a poor attempt at humor. ā« Hard to say whether Iāve got it if we donāt know what it is. āŖ thereās a decent amount of cheekiness on his face, for someone who doesnāt feel cheeky at all. before he can figure out whether keithās amusedāhe probably isnātāhe sobers up, sighing defeated as he looks upward, an eyeful of starless wood with no answers. ā« Alright. Iāve been coughing. Could be a cold, could be a side effect of thisā āŖ he scowls, gesturing at the size of his body. ā« āwhatever this is. Could be⦠⪠hanahaki. he doesnāt say it. he pinches his mouth shut and stares back at keith, ultimately shaking his head as if to shake off the mantra hindering his thought process: nope, nope, nope, nope⦠⫠Eh, I donāt know. By the time we figure this one out, thereāll be something else. āŖ one day at a time, he said, but he feels so tired all of a sudden. he groans, pinches the bridge of his nose, the petal flitting mockingly to the ground. ā« I thought weād be granted eternal sleep.
[ imagine that. shiro trying to weasel out of an explanation on a technicality. keith is, in a word, unamused. the cheeky quip doesnāt land anywhere near keithās good graces and so, those seemingly ever present shiro privileges donāt kick into action: in this one instance, shiro wonāt be receiving any slack. keith merely stares him down. arms crossed tight, gaze steady and unblinking, keith waits out the ticks, not letting up even as shiro looks toward the ceiling.
itās hypocritical on his part. keith is aware that he isnāt being fair. heās caught something, too. itās a slight tightness to his chest and an inability to fill his lungs to capacity. the tickle in his throat that forces him into a cough is an occasional burden, but one that is entirely manageable. keith is sick, but itās more akin to an annoyance than an actual problem. so in his opinion? not worth any level of concern. shiroās howeverā¦
so itās fair to be unfair. shiro shouldāve told him, especially with all these other things going on with his body. if keith had known, he couldāve been looking for a solution to that, too, while he scrounges up information on vampirism and shrinking. heās running away with his thoughts, getting caught up in anger that is born purely from unbridled concern, but then shiro saying thereāll just be something else to get him andā¦
oh.
it catches him off guard. shiro is far from an optimist. the morbid jokes and the ease in which he passes off voltron to him are all indicators that shiro gives all his hope away to other people. even so, keith doesnāt know how to handle this defeatist attitude; keith isnāt the one to give motivational speeches, afterall. so it happens again: the concern twists and curdles, uncertainty bleeding into accusation. because there on the floor, somethingās fluttered, and keith tracks it with his eyes. a petal? the coughing, the towel, the slight of hand ā ]
Is that⦠[ he bends down and picks it up. crouched there, keith turns it over between his fingers and then shoots a look upward, expression undeniably confused. ] Did this come out of you?
āŖ pessimism always did simmer beneath his skin. itās nothing he could afford then ā it might have killed him otherwise, much earlier than his affliction ā but now, twice dead and stuck with a sentient darker side in his head, itās easier to give in. yeah, heās always kept his chin up. for his own sanity, he didnāt have a choice, and he wound up beating so many odds. so this, maybe, is just belated fate. everything he managed to delay is now catching up to him, increased tenfold; sometimes, he wonders if itās even worth trying.
itās laughable, in a bleak, sinister way. oddly enough, keithās the one that regularly pushes him to keep going. itās a bit ironic, honestly, but the guyās come such a long way, itād be an insult to his efforts, to his tenacity, to just⦠give up. shiro can be a hypocrite, yeah. but not that much of a hypocrite. he can lie, too, and when keith plucks the petal from the ground, shiroās tempted to do just that.
his gaze softens and shoots down, barely resisting the urge to pull his freshly-dyed hair out. ā« Yā¦ā¦..es? āŖ donāt panic. donāt. panic. do not. fucking panic. ā« I keep telling myself I should stop munching on the bunsā rations. āŖ you know. because they eat grass and stuff. heās joking. itās obvious in the tentative quirk of his mouth, the palm of his hand uneasily rubbing at the back of his neck.
[ itās a good joke. itās patented shiro. self-chastising and clever, albeit a little too on the nose. but keith doesnāt laugh, nor does he crack a smile. he doesnāt frown either. heās stuck in between expressions, which inevitably leaves him with no discernable expression at all. heās blank. for three solid beats, he stares up at shiro, feeling strangely small despite the fact that heās, technically, the larger one here. itās just ā he doesnāt know what to do.
anger hasnāt garnered him anything of value. determination hasnāt either, strangely enough. see, this is his cue. heās met this cue every time before: post shipwreck, post vampirism, post first shrinking⦠keithās always been right there, ready to assure that theyāre a team and that theyāre going to figure this out.
but maybe shiroās right. maybe there is no end to this. maybe keith is useless in stopping it.
the fight is snuffed out. briefly, keith lets all those carefully corralled feelings of worry, despair, fear overtake him, and from one breath to the next, a sad, broken quality pinches the skin around his eyes. but then he jerks his chin down and hides behind his hair, hand crushing the petal. ]
Be serious. [ sharp on his tongue, but heavy with emotion, he sounds angrier than he has the capacity to be right now. he takes a breath, trying to calm, but the pause swings him too far in the other direction, his voice coming out meek. small. ] I donāt understand and I ā ⦠I need to understand in order to help.
āŖ even jokes canāt save him. his weapon of choice has failed, hitting the wrong target instead; keith withdraws, and shiro quickly deflates. well, shit. for a number of things. keithās adamancy is almost frustrating. donāt get him wrongāshiroās in full admiration when it comes to keithās determination, but theyāve reached a cul-de-sac here, and shiro has no idea how to hit the brakes and backpedal. how do you tell someone theyāre the cause of something terrible without blaming them? because itās not keithās fault, though even if there was a way, itās not something shiro can willingly bring himself to confess.
his chest hurts, for different reasons. thereās barely any hesitation before he drops to a crouch next to him and sits on the floor, refusing to stand taller when keith looks so crestfallen. ā« Keith⦠⪠shaped like a plea, his name escapes through a sigh, shiroās shoulders sagging a little, even as he rolls them. ā« Iām not sure you can. āŖ itās honest, if nothing else. there is a way, if whatever this is matches what he thinks it is, but he wonāt ask, and he wonāt beg, and he wonāt hope, for the simple reason that it shouldnāt be happening at all. ā«
I donāt know if anyone can, honestly. āŖ his forehead creases doleful, and his lashes flutter over his eyes, crinkled slits. ā« Iām not trying to be cynical, I promise. I just uhm⦠⪠and here goes nothing, a soundless and deep inhale as he shakes his head, distantly pondering what the fuck heās doing. ā« Have you ever heard of hanahaki? āŖ a beat. ā« I canāt remember if Iāve ever mentioned it before. āŖ in passing, maybe, or as he recollected old memories. ā«
[ whatās that saying? you donāt know what you have until itās gone? keith has never taken shiro for granted, not after truly seeing him for the first time outside the galaxy garrison disciplinary office. but over time, heās gotten comfortable with certain aspects of their friendship. namely? shiroās faith in him. itās a stable of their relationship, the backbone even; shiroās always pushing and encouraging, so sure in keithās ability to be great. so this feels like a colossal failure.
iām not sure you can.
itās akin to being slapped. keith winces, bracing with a tensing of his shoulders, once again lost, small, uncertain. pathetic. he presses his lips tight together, scrounging up the fight thatās supposed to burn red hot inside him. so what if shiro doubts? keith can make up the difference. heāll believe enough for the both of them. he can do this. he can do this. but he doesnāt make much ground with that temporary rush of stubbornness. it putters out and he slumps anew, a little too sapped to argue.
just as well, because shiroās still trying to push through himself and what he ends with is a question that, finally, coaxes keith into lifting his face from its downward hang. hanahaki? the name doesnāt jar any memory but it still means everything in the moment, because itās a name. shiro has a name. thatās a starting point. they can build off of that. ]
No. Whatās that?
[ curiosity clears the dismalness of his expression. hope does, too. itās slight at first, but growing. ]
āŖ itās nothing personal. itās nothing against keith, either ā or his aptitudes for that matter, far from lacking ā and it doesnāt have anything to do with shiroās faith in him. to this day, it remains immutable. the problem is⦠love. itās not a skill you can practice, an enemy you can defeat, or an obstacle you can conquer. it just is, and while shiro doesnāt doubt keithās selfless intentions, his granite-like resolve, for the first time in a series of stubborn attempts, keith is utterly powerless. itās not for lack of wanting. itās not even for lack of loving. shiro is persuaded of keithās affection, and that is enough. enough to sustain him, at least for a while as the disease ravages his lungsāwhich is entirely unfair, as if keithās devotion doesnāt mean the world to him.
flowers donāt care, apparently, and that glimmer of hope in keithās gaze is a new lump in shiroās throat. fuck. heās barefoot on eggshells, trying really hard not to squirm uneasy as he lets out a slow breath, cheeks puffed out and brows raised high. okay. so when a man really loves another man⦠ā«
It means throwing up flowers. Itās not exactly accurate... but you get the gist. āŖ if he did throw up anything, itād probably be butterfliesā¦
ā¦please donāt throw up butterflies. ā« It was a popular trope back in the day. I know my grandma was a fan. āŖ he snorts quietly, swallowing the sound with a barely-there wince. ā« Legend has it that if you love someone and itās one-sided, youāll start coughing up petals. āŖ imagine that. heās doing his very best to keep a straight face, unsure whether heās succeeding at all. ā« It was never supposed to be real⦠but then again, I was never supposed to like drinking blood.
[ at some point, heāll stop being shocked, wonāt he? at some point, the barrage of unbelievable, yet seemingly possible events will become the new norm and keith will be able to hear any far-fetched story without gaping, right? he knows the netherworld plays by its own rules, providing magic, curses, transformations, life when there should be death, and yet, he still finds himself trying to apply the restrictions of his reality. if anything, he should be more accustomed to taking the oddities of this place in stride; heās been all over the universe, living through alien sicknesses, alternate realities, time space continuums, sentient beings, space magic bullshit. heās the accumulation of every bad sci-fi movie trope, so what are a few netherworld curses in comparison to that?
throwing up flowers sounds particularly stupid, however.
seriously? incredulous is, at least, a marginal step up from the broken expression of before. keith sits it out and listens, eyes once again set on shiro to watch every barely there wince and uneasy squirm. inevitably, the cause comes to light and to say keith is doubtful is an understatement. he barely digests the information, which is why he fails to conclude the obvious. instead, thereās a kneejerk reaction of denial, the thought of shiro being in love with someone preposterous to begin with ā who could he have met and adored within the short time theyāve been here ā but more so ā ]
It canāt be that. [ nose wrinkles, upper lip pulled back, as though the very suggestion is distasteful to him. ] What idiot wouldnāt love you back?
āŖ and shiro basically chokes. itās not even curse-related this timeāhe just swallows and bam, it all goes down the wrong pipe. maybe itās the dryness in his throat, punctuated by the shock of keith looking positively offended. itās almost comical in its irony, and shiro raises one hand as he catches his breath, trying to indicate that heās okay. ā« Iām good! Iām good. āŖ no petals, no need to worry. heās just. startled. amused in spite of himself. and drowning in despair.
fuck you, universe.
it does sound particularly stupid. and yet. it canāt be that, keith says, and shiro is adamant on keeping the reason why it makes sense to himself. itās you, keith. youāre the idiot, and the stretch of shiroās lips would make laughter a little too sinister if he gave in. he manipulates it at the last moment into a low sigh, still a little hoarse from his latest coughing fit. ā«
Well⦠⪠excellent start. he clears his throat for good measure, exhaling through his nose for the hundredth time; thereās something seemingly apologetic in his eyes, in the overall softness of his expression. ā« Love isnāt a choice. Iāve had to turn people down before⦠great people too. āŖ women, mostly. a few men, too. he did care for them. love has many facets, and he just didnāt feel the connection they were hoping for. ā« It just⦠didnāt click that way. Itās alright. It happens.
[ oh. god. again?? this time, the shock has ebbed, slightly, enough so that keith isnāt crouched there like a neanderthal with a brain cell count of one. he lifts one hand, reaching, hovering, not entirely certain of what heās doing, but committed to doing something, but shiroās already steps ahead of him, ready to cut him off from bothering with his ( still ) useless help. the coughing subsides, and keith tries to find comfort in how quickly it passes - and that there are no fucking flowers emerging from shiroās throat this time.
so they continue as they are, both of them crouched on the bathroom floor, discussing the concepts of love like this is an entirely normal way to have the conversation. keith takes it all with as much grace as is expected of him: he scoffs. ]
That happens to other people. [ being rejected. keithās experience with relationships and love is a blank page, but that doesnāt mean he doesnāt have ideas on how itās meant to work. and who itās meant to work for. ] But you're you. There's no one like you.
[ his voice has that stressed strain to it thatās both vehement and firm, the fact that keith full-heartedly believes this so potent that it's impossible to be misconstrued. translation? shiroās a catch. golden boy extraordinaire to black paladin protector of the universe, shiro is⦠so much. so much good. ]
So ā [ HMPH ] ā definitely an idiot. [ a pause, but no, heās not done. ] Can't you⦠I don't know, accept this guy's a fool, forget him and feel better?
āŖ keith being completely flabbergasted by the possibility of anyone not returning shiroās feelings is the epitome of paradoxical comedy. his naivety is entirely too charming, though each new rationale he innocently offers is an extra knife stabbing shiro through the chest. the intricate nuances of love arenāt for the faint-hearted, and it really doesnāt matter whether shiro stands tall on a pedestal. thereās concrete, living proof of that literal inches from him, and the temptation to laugh is finally too strong to resist. itās nothing loud. itās just a small, quiet sound bubbling in his throat and making his shoulders rise and fall in rhythmic cadence.
oh, boy. where does he even start. ā«
Itās not that simple. āŖ itās not possible, either. keith is an integral part of his life. of his death. heās nothing short of an extra limb at this point, and theyāve lived and suffered too much together for shiro to ever be able to forget him. he is, for lack of a better word, a universe all on his own, with clusters of stars shiro knows he could never gaze upon anywhere else. ā«
You can love someone without being in love with them. Thatās whatās happening here. He cares, deeply at thatāI know that much. But for this to⦠⪠he gestures towards his mouth, his lungs. ā« ā¦stop, heād... have to be in love with me too. āŖ and shiro smiles, chin dipping until he stares blankly into his lap. ā«
hard to tell. shiro talks in the present and as far as keith knows, during the days of voltron, there hadnāt been opportunity or means to make contact with earth. perhaps in the timeline shiro is from? the possibility sits heavy in his mind, once again losing his hardened edge. he sighs, gaze drooping down. another beat and then he shifts, moving from the crouch to a full on plop onto his bottom, legs folding in to sit cross-legged. why fight it ā theyāre going to be here awhile, might as well get comfortable. ]
So⦠what does that mean? [ shiro keeps shooting down his comments. in fact, it almost sounds like heās defending this guy for not loving him. tch. discouraged, but unwilling to throw in the towel, keith asks with genuine curiosity: ] Are you gonna keep coughing up petals⦠forever?
āŖ adam was, once upon a time, the love of shiroās life. he canāt tell when it shifted, exactly. thereād been a lot of arguments near the end, and during shiroās captivity, even though he grieved, fragments of resentment started bubbling to the surface. which left him majorly conflicted. on some days, he wished heād listened to him. peacing out did leave somewhat of a sour taste in his mouth, guilt-flavored. had he stayed, he might have avoided a year of torture, too, but at the end of the day⦠adam gave up on him before shiro even looked starward. itās the main difference, probably, between adam and keithāaside from their personalities, wildly mismatched. adam understood him, to a point. keith knows him, almost on a visceral level, and heād sooner die than give up on him. itās not what shiroās looking for in a significant other, obviouslyāheād rather keith stay alive and safe, regardless of what happens to himself. but thatās just the thing. when he allows himself the luxury of fantasy⦠he knows heād die for him, too, a worthy sacrifice if it means preserving keithās life. and that makes a hell of a difference.
so yes, he does still love adam, in a nostalgic kind of way. but heās not in love with him, hasnāt been in years. it faded way before his feelings for keith changed, unparalleled, and now⦠well. heās throwing up flowers.
he gives a light shrug, trying to keep his tone light and marginally casual. thereās no use worrying him any more than he already is. ā« Who knows? Theyāre looking for a cure, but on the off chance that he somehow falls for me in the meantime⦠⪠he nods in feigned optimism, smacking his lips together. ā« ā¦my symptoms would disappear.
[ keithās still clutching at that petal by the way. is that weird? it came out of shiro. because shiro is in love with someone. and keith is just⦠here, sitting, listening, watching, and crushing the tangible representation of shiroās affections. he loosens his fingers, one by one, letting each roll open until the shred of red is visible in the pit of his palm.
he somehow falls for me in the meantime.
so ā not adam? someone who is here? keith chews at the inside of his bottom lip, considering, debating. who is the obvious question, but something keeps him from asking. instead, hesitance causes him to pause and self-doubt leads him to ask something else entirely. ]
Is it because of me? [ he raises his gaze, finding shiroās. uncertainty is plain to see; itās there in the knot between his eyebrows and the fullness of his eyes, a touch wider, a touch more vulnerable as he continues to try to keep pace with the conversation. ]
I know Iām around a lot. [ it hurts to say the words. heās never wanted to be a burden, nor to overstay his welcome. he doesnāt think this is that exactly, but if heās cramping opportunities for his best friend⦠ā his lungs feel funny through his next breath, a cough hitching the exhale. ] But if, you know⦠you need time with this other guy, I can make myself scarce.
[ itās the only viable explanation: mystery man must not know shiro well enough yet. ]
āŖ prompt. unequivocal. shiro started shaking his head the second keith lowered his own, a rueful sort of incredulity scrunching his face. keith, please. torn between wanting to shake him and hold him, the urge to laugh is now completely gone; instead he softens his voice, slightly leans forward, and tries again. ā«
No. āŖ itās not because of you, you frosted flake. or⦠yeah, okay, fair. it kind of is. just not in the way keith insinuates. ā« I like spending time with you. A lot. āŖ a five year old might have been more eloquent. flirtingās never been shiroās forteānot that itās what heās doing, exactly, but it involves feelings, his own, and he reeks of ineptitude. he should have agreed. not because he wants to, but for keithās sake, maybe, though itās clear heād rather stay in his vicinity.
and shiro, despite his kindness, isnāt selfless. ā«
Thereās no one else Iād rather be with. āŖ his mouth freezes mid-movement; thatās⦠not what he means. it is. but it isnāt. ā« Youāre my best friend. My partner in crime. āŖ he speaks a little faster than necessary, lips trembling on a smile he struggles to maintain. ā« Youāre never not wanted, Keith. āŖ and he gulps down that mouthful of growing panic, careful not to visibly wince. ā«
[ huh. guess shiro has quite the bone to pick with what he said, huh? thing is, keith does know this. like spending time, no one else, best friend, partner in crime, never not wanted; keith knows this, down deep, there in his chest, safeguarded and easily shielded from the scrutiny of others. no one else gets it. the garrison cadets gossiped about it and the other paladins turned questioning glances his way; their friendship is odd to anyone outside of it. understandable, really. shiro is the epitome of everything to aspire to be and keith is⦠keith. but even so, he isnāt so dense in the head to delude himself into believing that shiro doesnāt care for him.
⦠just sometimes he thinks of the clone masquerading as shiro for months and keithās inability to save his best friend, both from death in their reality and every ailment that keeps piling on him here. at some point, surely, shiroās favor will wane in the face of all of keithās failures.
but keith isnāt all that difficult to appease. all it takes to quiet the doubt are earnest words. they breathe a perception of value into him and have him feeling warm and secure. itās a shame, actually, because he goes shy from such generous doting and looks down in the midst of it, completely blind to the strain of shiroās smile. ]
Yeah? [ he shouldnāt be greedy. thatās a not so subtle prompting for more. ducking his head a little more, he huffs at his own neediness, tacking on a soft: ] Okay. [ he lifts his head, peeking at shiro through the fall of his bangs. ] But if you change your mind and this guy wakes up⦠[ he trails off for a beat, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. he shakes it off, forcing a smile. ] I want you to be happy, so⦠whatever you need me to do to make that happen, just tell me.
āŖ ha ha ha⦠hargh. look at him, nodding mechanically and smiling a smile that just begs to collapse, to make room for his mouth to open wide and yell. heās brought all of this upon himself, and he canāt decide what is worse; the tip-toeing around the actual truth, or keith believing that shiro could possibly fall for anyone else. technically, the notion isnāt that far-fetched. shiroās had multiple crushes in his short life, but after everything they went through together, and the bond that defines them, how could it be anyone but keith?
so he just. resolves to acquiesce, briefly pressing his knuckles into the meat of keithās bicep, a playful nudge. ā« You know I will. āŖ lol, he wonāt. ā« But you donāt need to do anything, Keith. Nothing youāre not already doing. āŖ which is imperfectly perfect, like the rest of him.
but thatās enough focus on him for one day. for a hundred days, even. so he decides to inquire, almost innocentlyāhe knows the answer, but still. ā« What about you? āŖ fingers drum against his own chest. ā« Nothing going on here? Or anywhere, really. āŖ you never know in this forsaken world. ā«
[ what keith is currently doing is hovering over his best friend, trying ā and failing ā to find solutions to his ever expanding ailments. so, heāll just be silently disagreeing with shiro here. keith does need to be doing more, at least in terms of producing results. but in terms of this mystery, other man? keith will leave it to shiro to decide how to handle it. thus far, shiro hasnāt taken to anything keithās said on the matter, so perhaps thatās its own version of stay out of it.
the thought leaves his chest throbbing, the tightness returning, and ā god, itās frustrating. he measures out his breathing as he has been, filling his lungs until they hit that point in which they ache and then he sighs. all the while, he knows heās doing a poor job of curbing the disappointed feelings festering just below the surface, so he can only assume thatās why shiro bothers to ask. a white lie is tempting, because he knows any amount of concern channeled his way is concern taken away from shiroās current situation, but shiroās effortlessly charming as always and keith loathes to outright lie to him. ]
Not like yours. [ heās almost apologetic, like heās sorry shiro got the worst of things, again, while keith continues to remain mostly unscathed. ] Itās harder to breathe sometimes and the cough comes and goes⦠[ a slow-taking frown, voice vaguely put-out. ] But Iām not throwing up flowers. [ so see? nothing to worry about. he probably just has a cold of some sort. ]
āŖ no, no, no. the deal was⦠whatever shiro needs from keith to maintain his happiness, he should ask. thatās it. simple enough and taken care of, successfully too. there really isnāt anything else keith should be doing for shiro to keep feeling the way he feels. being keith is the literal key here, his own microcosm of joy in the midst of so much pain. how could he be failing anything when he constantly stokes the flames of the one thing that really matters?
heās an idiot. shiro is an idiot, so clearly itās a match made in heaven. alas, theyāre nowhere near its wrought-iron gates, and shiroās pulse hiccups uncomfortably at the mention of keithās mild symptoms; what does it mean. it could be a cold. for real, this time. or it could be the same sickness, progressing slower. thereās a reason shiro hasnāt mentioned how it unfortunately ends if never cured, and his face sours, blanching on a mix of dread, denial, and grief, translated into one stupid word. ā«
Huh. āŖ thatās it. thatās the word, exclaimed dumbly, and shiro looks the part. it lasts for a dozen blinks, and then he tries to rationalize it. ā« Does it⦠feel like anything youāve ever had back home? Strep throat, maybe? āŖ his own tightens, making his voice a bit more breathy. ā« Or is there⦠someone. āŖ he almost whispers the word, gravelly too, like he doesnāt want to jinx it, make it real. ā«
Edited (i will post this video as often as i possibly can) 2022-11-23 01:21 (UTC)
[ now that the focus is turned on him, keith grows quieter and quieter. whereas before heād had plenty to say in regards of shiroās predicament, here, he goes mostly mute. itās unintentional uncooperativeness. he knows shiro is worried and he doesnāt want him to be worried, but he doesnāt know how else to ease his best friend when he himself fails to comprehend why heās bothered in the first place. he said he isnāt throwing up flowers; over, done, case closed. what else is there to be concerned about when, frankly, there are much more important things to worry about? much more important people?
at least he stays seated. he still feels it at times, the age-old urge to run when he feels out of depth and floundering, but he stays the current course, shrugging once, shrugging twice to those first two questions. he doesnāt know ā maybe? heās not holed up in his bed, stuffing kleenex up his nose or trying to break a fever. heās no doctor ā everyoneās favorite line to say around here ā but he doesnāt think his lymph nodes are swollen and heās definitely not suffering from malaise. heās still rearing to get to the library and read text until he goes cross-eyed or finds a cure, whichever comes first.
but then thereās a third question.
keith doesnāt mean to laugh. it isnāt the right kind of laugh, either. itās a quiet thing, though sharp and quick. he gives shiro a perplexed look, mouth twisted up in a smile that doesnāt go with his eyes. ] Heh. Funny. Iām not built for that sort of thing.
[ thing. relationships. love. forever and always. most everyone in his life leaves or lets him leave. once upon a time, he knew better than to ever get attached to someone else. nowadays, it still mostly stays true, albeit for one obvious exception. he came out of galaxy garrison with no friends. team voltron keeps on fine without him. the blades donāt do connections because they compromise the mission. so really, shiro. who would he be in love with? ]
āŖ first of all, ouch. second of all; yeah, who could he possibly be in love with???? itās a mystery. but third of all, fucking ouch. itās an arrow through shiroās chest, which is already a mess; his eyes grow wide with shock, old sorrows coiling within. keith. abandoned just often enough to believe himself undeserving of love. a broken afterthought, never given much of a chance to flourish. there are people for whom romance is undesired, solitude preferred, though this is something else. itās not even just romance, in keithās case. heās always been reluctant to forge bonds with people, the threat of being left again always looming a little too close. thereās a reason he tries so goddamn hard for shiro, and honestly, it breaks his heart. ā«
Keith⦠⪠eyebrows pinched and pained, shiro mentally chastises himself for even mentioning anything. keith isnāt the boy he once were, granted, but some wounds are deeper than others. ā« Donāt say that. āŖ itās almost a plea. thereās nothing accusatory in his tone, or commanding for that matter.
he reaches out, loosely wrapping his hand around keithās forearm, near the wrist. ā« Thereās no such a thing as being unfit for love. You deserve to be loved, we all do. You are. āŖ loved, and he nods as he says the words, as if to emphasize them, make them even stronger. ā« And youāre capable of it, too.
[ obviously, shiro was never going to let keith get away with saying that. obviously, shiro would rush to his defense. still, for someone who routinely expects nothing, the grasp of shiroās hand has keith stumbling over a breath. he goes tense for a split second, but itās shiro, seeking out connection and hoping to invoke comfort, so of course keith has little defense for that. relaxing, keith waits out shiroās words, measuring out the pros and cons of refuting those hallmark, overly optimistic views on love. no, not everyone deserves love. and no, the universe does not owe it to anyone to will it. the only thing anyone can truly count on is that reality is cruel and unfair, the prospect of finding that one person who supposedly completes you so astronomically slim that keith doesnāt know why anyone bothers.
then again, is keith actually missing that? yes and no.
he continues to stare at the loose wrap of fingers and then slowly, shyly, draws his gaze up to find shiroās ever concerned eyes. heās capable of it, huh? ]
I guess. [ he could leave it at that. he probably should leave it at that. but his mind is digging up memory and he thinks of the one and only time heās ever said the words. it has his chest aching and his stomach unsettling, suddenly feeling wrong on a visceral level that runs throughout. shiro never got to hear, did he? does he even know? if anyone deserves to be loved and to know theyāre loved, itās shiro. thatās all it takes. a mix of obligation, guilt, and ever potent care has keith fumbling through the words. ]
I mean ā I love you. I said it before, to the clone, but I⦠I wanna say it to you, too. [ he swallows thickly, voice a touch hoarse with emotion. ] Because youāre my best friend. My brother. [ a breath and now a steadier: ] I love you.
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fuck no.
keith has no intention of making shiro feel guilty over living, breathing, being. but shiro knows him enough to call him out. he clamps his lips together, promptly sputtering at the cheeky, little wink. dammit shiro. he looks to the side, mouth pulling hard to one side as well, caught in the way that he has no means to actually deny considering a little, white lie. good-humored stays his mood though and heās not actually upset for being pushed into a corner⦠because he has an easy way out. ]
Iāll tell you. [ he puts the towel down on the sinkās counter. ] But my threshold for overwhelming is pretty high.
[ meaning? yeah, no, heās never going to bring it up to shiro. ]
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So you wonāt. āŖ look. he knows just how resilient keith has always been. despite the many struggles that painted his youth, he stands stronger than ever; he overcame them all. he continues to do so, with added strain on his back because of shiroās own pains. itās pointless to tell him to let them go, which is, ironically, one of said painsāheās never wanted keith to suffer on his behalf. the thought sobers him up a little, the laugh subsides, and he sighs somewhat resigned, a flat, lopsided smile. ā«
Just so you know⦠Iāll never pry. āŖ so that thing about lying earlier was nothing more than a tease, though he needs to amend: ā« Never willingly. Itās too early to tell whether Iāve got the hang of it, but I promise never toā āŖ cough. ā« ānever to tress⦠tressā āŖ and he wheezes. chokes on a lack of sudden air, lungs clogged up as he coughs and knocks his knuckles against his chest. he tastes bitter sugar. pollen. itās there on his tongue, coating the back of his mouth. quickly he grabs the towel on the counter and spits into it, cheeks pink, and there it is: a petal. almost intact, too, bright red, and he clears his throat a few times more and he sweats, inhaling and exhaling as deeply as he can. ā« Sorry. āŖ he wipes his lips uselessly, hoping to distract from his growing agitation. ā« Whew. I uh⦠should probably go get some air.
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so far? he appears to be failing on that front.
oh. heās sick, too. but rather than a tickle in the throat and a cough that comes and goes, shiroās illness is ā violent. keith freezes up as it all unfolds, staring wide-eyed and useless. shiro coughs and keith knows he should be helping. somehow, some way. rub his back through the worst of it? get him some water? he canāt think of what to do in the moment, however, and so, his hands remain at his sides as shiro does all the work himself of grabbing the towel and knocking hard at his own chest. the wheezing hurts his ears, as does the sputter for breath as lungs lock up. keith feels his own labor through his next shallow inhale, pinpricks of pain catching inside his chest and climbing up his throat, some imagined lump seemingly working its way up. he swallows it back, however, expression drawn with anxiety and fright, only to collapse entirely when shiroās breath settles enough for him to say an apology.
what? ]
Thatās it? You just ā
[ forgot how to breathe in front of him and now heās saying sorry? keith doesnāt handle it well. exasperation is easier to navigate than the helplessness of his uncertainty. shiro doesnāt deserve this: the vampirism, the shrinking, the sickness. he definitely doesnāt deserve keith not-quite-yelling, but huffy, anxiety-ridden commentary. nonetheless, he canāt silence himself. ]
And you want air? Of course you do, you were just⦠[ he makes vague gestures with his hands, only to give up to cross his arms. ] You have it too, donāt you? Whateverās going around.
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and heās mad.
fear is often like that, when you care for someone. the lines between dread and anger blur, one bleeding into the other. emotions are hard. theyāre hard for him and he knows theyāre a challenge for keith, who was barely allowed a chance to really⦠wade through them. tame them. survival prevailed, and honestly, shiro could learn a trick or two from him because clearly itās not the kind of instinct he possesses.
he winces, caught. grimaces his way through a poor attempt at humor. ā« Hard to say whether Iāve got it if we donāt know what it is. āŖ thereās a decent amount of cheekiness on his face, for someone who doesnāt feel cheeky at all. before he can figure out whether keithās amusedāhe probably isnātāhe sobers up, sighing defeated as he looks upward, an eyeful of starless wood with no answers. ā« Alright. Iāve been coughing. Could be a cold, could be a side effect of thisā āŖ he scowls, gesturing at the size of his body. ā« āwhatever this is. Could be⦠⪠hanahaki. he doesnāt say it. he pinches his mouth shut and stares back at keith, ultimately shaking his head as if to shake off the mantra hindering his thought process: nope, nope, nope, nope⦠⫠Eh, I donāt know. By the time we figure this one out, thereāll be something else. āŖ one day at a time, he said, but he feels so tired all of a sudden. he groans, pinches the bridge of his nose, the petal flitting mockingly to the ground. ā« I thought weād be granted eternal sleep.
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itās hypocritical on his part. keith is aware that he isnāt being fair. heās caught something, too. itās a slight tightness to his chest and an inability to fill his lungs to capacity. the tickle in his throat that forces him into a cough is an occasional burden, but one that is entirely manageable. keith is sick, but itās more akin to an annoyance than an actual problem. so in his opinion? not worth any level of concern. shiroās howeverā¦
so itās fair to be unfair. shiro shouldāve told him, especially with all these other things going on with his body. if keith had known, he couldāve been looking for a solution to that, too, while he scrounges up information on vampirism and shrinking. heās running away with his thoughts, getting caught up in anger that is born purely from unbridled concern, but then shiro saying thereāll just be something else to get him andā¦
oh.
it catches him off guard. shiro is far from an optimist. the morbid jokes and the ease in which he passes off voltron to him are all indicators that shiro gives all his hope away to other people. even so, keith doesnāt know how to handle this defeatist attitude; keith isnāt the one to give motivational speeches, afterall. so it happens again: the concern twists and curdles, uncertainty bleeding into accusation. because there on the floor, somethingās fluttered, and keith tracks it with his eyes. a petal? the coughing, the towel, the slight of hand ā ]
Is that⦠[ he bends down and picks it up. crouched there, keith turns it over between his fingers and then shoots a look upward, expression undeniably confused. ] Did this come out of you?
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itās laughable, in a bleak, sinister way. oddly enough, keithās the one that regularly pushes him to keep going. itās a bit ironic, honestly, but the guyās come such a long way, itād be an insult to his efforts, to his tenacity, to just⦠give up. shiro can be a hypocrite, yeah. but not that much of a hypocrite. he can lie, too, and when keith plucks the petal from the ground, shiroās tempted to do just that.
his gaze softens and shoots down, barely resisting the urge to pull his freshly-dyed hair out. ā« Yā¦ā¦..es? āŖ donāt panic. donāt. panic. do not. fucking panic. ā« I keep telling myself I should stop munching on the bunsā rations. āŖ you know. because they eat grass and stuff. heās joking. itās obvious in the tentative quirk of his mouth, the palm of his hand uneasily rubbing at the back of his neck.
yeah. he panicked. ā«
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anger hasnāt garnered him anything of value. determination hasnāt either, strangely enough. see, this is his cue. heās met this cue every time before: post shipwreck, post vampirism, post first shrinking⦠keithās always been right there, ready to assure that theyāre a team and that theyāre going to figure this out.
but maybe shiroās right. maybe there is no end to this. maybe keith is useless in stopping it.
q̓u̸i̵t̸t̷e̷r̸.̷
w̵h̓a̶t̶ ̵h̵a̶p̶p̸e̸n̶e̸d̵ ̸t̓o̸ ̵a̓s̶ ̸m̸a̷n̶y̓ ̸t̷i̸m̶e̷s̸ ̶a̷s̓ ̵i̸t̓ ̷t̶a̓k̵e̷s̓?̸
̵o̸h̓.̓ ̷r̸i̶g̷h̷t̷.̷ ̶y̸o̸u̶ ̷d̓i̸d̓n̓'̓t̶ ̵m̸a̓k̷e̓ ̶t̸h̸a̵t̵ ̓v̓o̵w̵ ̸t̷o̵ ̶s̓h̓i̓r̵o̓.̶
the fight is snuffed out. briefly, keith lets all those carefully corralled feelings of worry, despair, fear overtake him, and from one breath to the next, a sad, broken quality pinches the skin around his eyes. but then he jerks his chin down and hides behind his hair, hand crushing the petal. ]
Be serious. [ sharp on his tongue, but heavy with emotion, he sounds angrier than he has the capacity to be right now. he takes a breath, trying to calm, but the pause swings him too far in the other direction, his voice coming out meek. small. ] I donāt understand and I ā ⦠I need to understand in order to help.
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his chest hurts, for different reasons. thereās barely any hesitation before he drops to a crouch next to him and sits on the floor, refusing to stand taller when keith looks so crestfallen. ā« Keith⦠⪠shaped like a plea, his name escapes through a sigh, shiroās shoulders sagging a little, even as he rolls them. ā« Iām not sure you can. āŖ itās honest, if nothing else. there is a way, if whatever this is matches what he thinks it is, but he wonāt ask, and he wonāt beg, and he wonāt hope, for the simple reason that it shouldnāt be happening at all. ā«
I donāt know if anyone can, honestly. āŖ his forehead creases doleful, and his lashes flutter over his eyes, crinkled slits. ā« Iām not trying to be cynical, I promise. I just uhm⦠⪠and here goes nothing, a soundless and deep inhale as he shakes his head, distantly pondering what the fuck heās doing. ā« Have you ever heard of hanahaki? āŖ a beat. ā« I canāt remember if Iāve ever mentioned it before. āŖ in passing, maybe, or as he recollected old memories. ā«
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iām not sure you can.
itās akin to being slapped. keith winces, bracing with a tensing of his shoulders, once again lost, small, uncertain. pathetic. he presses his lips tight together, scrounging up the fight thatās supposed to burn red hot inside him. so what if shiro doubts? keith can make up the difference. heāll believe enough for the both of them. he can do this. he can do this. but he doesnāt make much ground with that temporary rush of stubbornness. it putters out and he slumps anew, a little too sapped to argue.
just as well, because shiroās still trying to push through himself and what he ends with is a question that, finally, coaxes keith into lifting his face from its downward hang. hanahaki? the name doesnāt jar any memory but it still means everything in the moment, because itās a name. shiro has a name. thatās a starting point. they can build off of that. ]
No. Whatās that?
[ curiosity clears the dismalness of his expression. hope does, too. itās slight at first, but growing. ]
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flowers donāt care, apparently, and that glimmer of hope in keithās gaze is a new lump in shiroās throat. fuck. heās barefoot on eggshells, trying really hard not to squirm uneasy as he lets out a slow breath, cheeks puffed out and brows raised high. okay. so when a man really loves another man⦠ā«
It means throwing up flowers. Itās not exactly accurate... but you get the gist. āŖ if he did throw up anything, itād probably be butterfliesā¦
ā¦please donāt throw up butterflies. ā« It was a popular trope back in the day. I know my grandma was a fan. āŖ he snorts quietly, swallowing the sound with a barely-there wince. ā« Legend has it that if you love someone and itās one-sided, youāll start coughing up petals. āŖ imagine that. heās doing his very best to keep a straight face, unsure whether heās succeeding at all. ā« It was never supposed to be real⦠but then again, I was never supposed to like drinking blood.
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throwing up flowers sounds particularly stupid, however.
seriously? incredulous is, at least, a marginal step up from the broken expression of before. keith sits it out and listens, eyes once again set on shiro to watch every barely there wince and uneasy squirm. inevitably, the cause comes to light and to say keith is doubtful is an understatement. he barely digests the information, which is why he fails to conclude the obvious. instead, thereās a kneejerk reaction of denial, the thought of shiro being in love with someone preposterous to begin with ā who could he have met and adored within the short time theyāve been here ā but more so ā ]
It canāt be that. [ nose wrinkles, upper lip pulled back, as though the very suggestion is distasteful to him. ] What idiot wouldnāt love you back?
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fuck you, universe.
it does sound particularly stupid. and yet. it canāt be that, keith says, and shiro is adamant on keeping the reason why it makes sense to himself. itās you, keith. youāre the idiot, and the stretch of shiroās lips would make laughter a little too sinister if he gave in. he manipulates it at the last moment into a low sigh, still a little hoarse from his latest coughing fit. ā«
Well⦠⪠excellent start. he clears his throat for good measure, exhaling through his nose for the hundredth time; thereās something seemingly apologetic in his eyes, in the overall softness of his expression. ā« Love isnāt a choice. Iāve had to turn people down before⦠great people too. āŖ women, mostly. a few men, too. he did care for them. love has many facets, and he just didnāt feel the connection they were hoping for. ā« It just⦠didnāt click that way. Itās alright. It happens.
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so they continue as they are, both of them crouched on the bathroom floor, discussing the concepts of love like this is an entirely normal way to have the conversation. keith takes it all with as much grace as is expected of him: he scoffs. ]
That happens to other people. [ being rejected. keithās experience with relationships and love is a blank page, but that doesnāt mean he doesnāt have ideas on how itās meant to work. and who itās meant to work for. ] But you're you. There's no one like you.
[ his voice has that stressed strain to it thatās both vehement and firm, the fact that keith full-heartedly believes this so potent that it's impossible to be misconstrued. translation? shiroās a catch. golden boy extraordinaire to black paladin protector of the universe, shiro is⦠so much. so much good. ]
So ā [ HMPH ] ā definitely an idiot. [ a pause, but no, heās not done. ] Can't you⦠I don't know, accept this guy's a fool, forget him and feel better?
[ ⦠is that how it works? ]
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oh, boy. where does he even start. ā«
Itās not that simple. āŖ itās not possible, either. keith is an integral part of his life. of his death. heās nothing short of an extra limb at this point, and theyāve lived and suffered too much together for shiro to ever be able to forget him. he is, for lack of a better word, a universe all on his own, with clusters of stars shiro knows he could never gaze upon anywhere else. ā«
You can love someone without being in love with them. Thatās whatās happening here. He cares, deeply at thatāI know that much. But for this to⦠⪠he gestures towards his mouth, his lungs. ā« ā¦stop, heād... have to be in love with me too. āŖ and shiro smiles, chin dipping until he stares blankly into his lap. ā«
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does shiro still love adam?
hard to tell. shiro talks in the present and as far as keith knows, during the days of voltron, there hadnāt been opportunity or means to make contact with earth. perhaps in the timeline shiro is from? the possibility sits heavy in his mind, once again losing his hardened edge. he sighs, gaze drooping down. another beat and then he shifts, moving from the crouch to a full on plop onto his bottom, legs folding in to sit cross-legged. why fight it ā theyāre going to be here awhile, might as well get comfortable. ]
So⦠what does that mean? [ shiro keeps shooting down his comments. in fact, it almost sounds like heās defending this guy for not loving him. tch. discouraged, but unwilling to throw in the towel, keith asks with genuine curiosity: ] Are you gonna keep coughing up petals⦠forever?
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so yes, he does still love adam, in a nostalgic kind of way. but heās not in love with him, hasnāt been in years. it faded way before his feelings for keith changed, unparalleled, and now⦠well. heās throwing up flowers.
he gives a light shrug, trying to keep his tone light and marginally casual. thereās no use worrying him any more than he already is. ā« Who knows? Theyāre looking for a cure, but on the off chance that he somehow falls for me in the meantime⦠⪠he nods in feigned optimism, smacking his lips together. ā« ā¦my symptoms would disappear.
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he somehow falls for me in the meantime.
so ā not adam? someone who is here? keith chews at the inside of his bottom lip, considering, debating. who is the obvious question, but something keeps him from asking. instead, hesitance causes him to pause and self-doubt leads him to ask something else entirely. ]
Is it because of me? [ he raises his gaze, finding shiroās. uncertainty is plain to see; itās there in the knot between his eyebrows and the fullness of his eyes, a touch wider, a touch more vulnerable as he continues to try to keep pace with the conversation. ]
I know Iām around a lot. [ it hurts to say the words. heās never wanted to be a burden, nor to overstay his welcome. he doesnāt think this is that exactly, but if heās cramping opportunities for his best friend⦠ā his lungs feel funny through his next breath, a cough hitching the exhale. ] But if, you know⦠you need time with this other guy, I can make myself scarce.
[ itās the only viable explanation: mystery man must not know shiro well enough yet. ]
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āŖ prompt. unequivocal. shiro started shaking his head the second keith lowered his own, a rueful sort of incredulity scrunching his face. keith, please. torn between wanting to shake him and hold him, the urge to laugh is now completely gone; instead he softens his voice, slightly leans forward, and tries again. ā«
No. āŖ itās not because of you, you frosted flake. or⦠yeah, okay, fair. it kind of is. just not in the way keith insinuates. ā« I like spending time with you. A lot. āŖ a five year old might have been more eloquent. flirtingās never been shiroās forteānot that itās what heās doing, exactly, but it involves feelings, his own, and he reeks of ineptitude. he should have agreed. not because he wants to, but for keithās sake, maybe, though itās clear heād rather stay in his vicinity.
and shiro, despite his kindness, isnāt selfless. ā«
Thereās no one else Iād rather be with. āŖ his mouth freezes mid-movement; thatās⦠not what he means. it is. but it isnāt. ā« Youāre my best friend. My partner in crime. āŖ he speaks a little faster than necessary, lips trembling on a smile he struggles to maintain. ā« Youāre never not wanted, Keith. āŖ and he gulps down that mouthful of growing panic, careful not to visibly wince. ā«
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⦠just sometimes he thinks of the clone masquerading as shiro for months and keithās inability to save his best friend, both from death in their reality and every ailment that keeps piling on him here. at some point, surely, shiroās favor will wane in the face of all of keithās failures.
but keith isnāt all that difficult to appease. all it takes to quiet the doubt are earnest words. they breathe a perception of value into him and have him feeling warm and secure. itās a shame, actually, because he goes shy from such generous doting and looks down in the midst of it, completely blind to the strain of shiroās smile. ]
Yeah? [ he shouldnāt be greedy. thatās a not so subtle prompting for more. ducking his head a little more, he huffs at his own neediness, tacking on a soft: ] Okay. [ he lifts his head, peeking at shiro through the fall of his bangs. ] But if you change your mind and this guy wakes up⦠[ he trails off for a beat, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. he shakes it off, forcing a smile. ] I want you to be happy, so⦠whatever you need me to do to make that happen, just tell me.
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so he just. resolves to acquiesce, briefly pressing his knuckles into the meat of keithās bicep, a playful nudge. ā« You know I will. āŖ lol, he wonāt. ā« But you donāt need to do anything, Keith. Nothing youāre not already doing. āŖ which is imperfectly perfect, like the rest of him.
but thatās enough focus on him for one day. for a hundred days, even. so he decides to inquire, almost innocentlyāhe knows the answer, but still. ā« What about you? āŖ fingers drum against his own chest. ā« Nothing going on here? Or anywhere, really. āŖ you never know in this forsaken world. ā«
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the thought leaves his chest throbbing, the tightness returning, and ā god, itās frustrating. he measures out his breathing as he has been, filling his lungs until they hit that point in which they ache and then he sighs. all the while, he knows heās doing a poor job of curbing the disappointed feelings festering just below the surface, so he can only assume thatās why shiro bothers to ask. a white lie is tempting, because he knows any amount of concern channeled his way is concern taken away from shiroās current situation, but shiroās effortlessly charming as always and keith loathes to outright lie to him. ]
Not like yours. [ heās almost apologetic, like heās sorry shiro got the worst of things, again, while keith continues to remain mostly unscathed. ] Itās harder to breathe sometimes and the cough comes and goes⦠[ a slow-taking frown, voice vaguely put-out. ] But Iām not throwing up flowers. [ so see? nothing to worry about. he probably just has a cold of some sort. ]
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heās an idiot. shiro is an idiot, so clearly itās a match made in heaven. alas, theyāre nowhere near its wrought-iron gates, and shiroās pulse hiccups uncomfortably at the mention of keithās mild symptoms; what does it mean. it could be a cold. for real, this time. or it could be the same sickness, progressing slower. thereās a reason shiro hasnāt mentioned how it unfortunately ends if never cured, and his face sours, blanching on a mix of dread, denial, and grief, translated into one stupid word. ā«
Huh. āŖ thatās it. thatās the word, exclaimed dumbly, and shiro looks the part. it lasts for a dozen blinks, and then he tries to rationalize it. ā« Does it⦠feel like anything youāve ever had back home? Strep throat, maybe? āŖ his own tightens, making his voice a bit more breathy. ā« Or is there⦠someone. āŖ he almost whispers the word, gravelly too, like he doesnāt want to jinx it, make it real. ā«
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at least he stays seated. he still feels it at times, the age-old urge to run when he feels out of depth and floundering, but he stays the current course, shrugging once, shrugging twice to those first two questions. he doesnāt know ā maybe? heās not holed up in his bed, stuffing kleenex up his nose or trying to break a fever. heās no doctor ā everyoneās favorite line to say around here ā but he doesnāt think his lymph nodes are swollen and heās definitely not suffering from malaise. heās still rearing to get to the library and read text until he goes cross-eyed or finds a cure, whichever comes first.
but then thereās a third question.
keith doesnāt mean to laugh. it isnāt the right kind of laugh, either. itās a quiet thing, though sharp and quick. he gives shiro a perplexed look, mouth twisted up in a smile that doesnāt go with his eyes. ] Heh. Funny. Iām not built for that sort of thing.
[ thing. relationships. love. forever and always. most everyone in his life leaves or lets him leave. once upon a time, he knew better than to ever get attached to someone else. nowadays, it still mostly stays true, albeit for one obvious exception. he came out of galaxy garrison with no friends. team voltron keeps on fine without him. the blades donāt do connections because they compromise the mission. so really, shiro. who would he be in love with? ]
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Keith⦠⪠eyebrows pinched and pained, shiro mentally chastises himself for even mentioning anything. keith isnāt the boy he once were, granted, but some wounds are deeper than others. ā« Donāt say that. āŖ itās almost a plea. thereās nothing accusatory in his tone, or commanding for that matter.
he reaches out, loosely wrapping his hand around keithās forearm, near the wrist. ā« Thereās no such a thing as being unfit for love. You deserve to be loved, we all do. You are. āŖ loved, and he nods as he says the words, as if to emphasize them, make them even stronger. ā« And youāre capable of it, too.
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then again, is keith actually missing that? yes and no.
he continues to stare at the loose wrap of fingers and then slowly, shyly, draws his gaze up to find shiroās ever concerned eyes. heās capable of it, huh? ]
I guess. [ he could leave it at that. he probably should leave it at that. but his mind is digging up memory and he thinks of the one and only time heās ever said the words. it has his chest aching and his stomach unsettling, suddenly feeling wrong on a visceral level that runs throughout. shiro never got to hear, did he? does he even know? if anyone deserves to be loved and to know theyāre loved, itās shiro. thatās all it takes. a mix of obligation, guilt, and ever potent care has keith fumbling through the words. ]
I mean ā I love you. I said it before, to the clone, but I⦠I wanna say it to you, too. [ he swallows thickly, voice a touch hoarse with emotion. ] Because youāre my best friend. My brother. [ a breath and now a steadier: ] I love you.
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