whatsacactus | (no subject)

[He's finding his throat is a little dry as he climbs in with him, trying to help balance for Shiro's lack of right arm. The water's hot, the air between them is hot, and Shiro is... Looking really good under the water.

And yeah, he'd be blind if he didn't notice how big Shiro actually is. It's not something he'd really put conscious thought to, but. He really is just that big even relaxed. He rests his hands on both Shiro's hips, thumbing circles into the skin there. He's trying to ignore the water hitting his still sore wounds on his back.]

Like winging it.

[He reaches up to shift the nozzle of the spray away from the worst of Keith's wounds. If he can't, he just adjusts them until they release a gentle mist instead. He knows he's still hurting, even if he won't admit it aloud. Keith's body language is a cipher he's always had the key to.

Then he leans in close and just... wraps an arm around Keith. Appreciating the nearness of another body and soul. It's only tangentially sexual, and even that only because of their mutual nakedness.

Dance with me, huh?

Dance?

[There's a nervous lilt to his smile looking up at him. Dancing in the shower seems like a bad idea. Dancing with Keith seems a worse idea; he's never danced with anyone.

The wet hair is getting in his eyes but he's still watching Shiro's face.]

Seems kinda small to dance in.

[Shiro brushes that hair back, kisses Keith's temple. They really are close to the same height now, even though Keith stayed lanky.]

Don't need much room.

[Neither of them are in the shape for anything crazy. Definitely no swing dancing. But standing here and swaying gently with an arm around Keith isn't terribly taxing. He even hums a little, some old song. At length:]

Keith... whatever we do, I want it to be just as good for you. Okay?

[He doesn't do the stupid thing and ask 'why'. He can guess why. He just has a moment, that impulsive thought that that doesn't apply to me.

But swaying gently like this, up against Shiro and feeling warm. Safe, above all things.]

I know.

[He nuzzles at him gently, mouthing at his ear, dragging his teeth against the lobe.]

Shower has a control panel. I think it can probably make a bench if you ask nicely.

[That gets Shiro a shiver for his troubles, Keith closing his eyes and squeezing his arms.]

A bench huh? [Was the dancing that boring? He takes a breath and looks around, seeing the control panel. Leaning a little bit, he presses his hand to it and watches a bench sort of melt out of the shower wall behind Shiro.]

What d'you know.

[The dancing was wonderful but if he's being honest with himself his leg hurts far too much to keep it up indefinitely. This, though.

He pushes Keith down onto the bench and takes his chances with what he assumes is the Altean equivalent of a shampoo dispenser. It definitely excretes... something that smells like juniberries. He lifts the foamy handful up and inspects it with care, but it makes no sense for it to be a secret bio-weapon. He gives Keith a Look and then shrugs a bit.

Then it's just a matter of working it through Keith's hair. He does it carefully - Keith obviously did not prioritize detangling it in his two year excursion - but firmly, tugging Keith forward against his stomach so he doesn't have to stretch so far.

There are a lot of ways to look after someone. Shiro's always done it by being a protector. But he enjoys the little things like this, too, spoiling his lovers with simple acts of service and care.]

Careful I don't get any in your eyes.

[Keith doesn't understand at first why he's being moved to sit. It becomes clear when he feels the fingers in his hair and that's new. That's a new sensation, having someone wash his hair. It's gentle. It's not something he's used to.

Keith's eyes close slowly as he takes in the scent and the feeling of it. Eventually, he does sort of rest his head against Shiro's stomach, focusing on feeling him breathe.]

Y-yeah. I'll make sure you don't.

[Not thinking much of it, he carefully puts his hands against Shiro's sides.]

[Keith's all but clinging to him like a drowning man, and Shiro just-- his expression is very pensive. A little sad, as he looks down at him. He makes it worth the trouble, gently scraping his nails against Keith's scalp, untangling the knots where he finds them. The shampoo is pretty nice in helping with that. Alteans knew how to take care of hair, he supposes.

He draws it out, being thorough about it, and then once he's gotten his hair thoroughly clean and detangled, he grabs one of the hand-held hoses and rinses the shampoo out as best he can with only one hand (which involves some Doing. He finds himself constantly shifting his balance to accommodate for the weight of the Galra arm moving forward) and then he sets the hose down.]

There. You keep this up, you're going to need to put your hair in a ponytail before a fight.

[When Shiro starts rinsing, Keith scrunches his eyes closed tight. Waits until he's done before he sits back a little, leaning against the wall and looking up at him.]

Probably could already, if I wanted.

[He's sure he could. There just hasn't been anything he could use to tie it back with.]

Do you.. I mean, did you want me to help with yours?

[Shiro's got the white hair now, and he isn't sure how Shiro feels about it yet. They haven't realy talked about it.]

[He feels like an old fucking man, but that's what avoiding mirrors is for. But he's not going to object, or reject something from Keith when he's trying to be kind. So he just nods.]

Sure. Swap me places.

[The shower is big enough that it isn't crowded to do, and Shiro takes up a spot on the bench.]

[He's happy to be able to do something for Shiro like this. He still has other things he wants to do, but they can wait.

For now, he switches, reaching for the same dispenser Shiro used before and sniffs it himself. It's a nice scent, stronger like this than when in his hair. But carefully, he starts using both hands to work it in. It's missing the finesse Shiro had, but he's trying. He's focusing on his fingers scratching gently against the scalp to work it in.]

... I like your hair.

[He'd never gotten to feel it before, but it's nice. And he does like the white, as strange as that may sound.]

[He doesn't make a derisive noise, or do anything at all to disparage Keith's opinion, but he is silent for a while without responding.

At length:]

Thank you.

[His tone is soft, but genuine enough. He's. Working on accepting it. It, like the arm, bothers him less because of what it is and more because of what it represents. He feels like he's sharing the body of a corpse with a ghost, and this is just one small part of that transition. It's rough.]

[He doesn't hate the silence before the response. He focuses on what he's doing, not expecting a thank you at all.

As he works, his hands slow until he's just running fingers through the lengthier portion of Shiro's hair, sort of turning the ends between his fingers.

For Keith, it's less a reminder of the clone, of Shiro merging with and taking over its body. For Keith, he sees it as sign Shiro survived. But it isn't his place to voice.]

Any idea what this scent is?

Juniberries.

[He says that automatically, though he's tipped his head down to help relieve some of the stress in his shoulders. Having Keith's hands on him is-- it's nice.]

Allura has some in a perfume. She thinks the real thing doesn't exist any more-- I want to bring her some of the seeds here.

Mm. She'll love you for it.

[He knows she will. Allura had lost so much when Altea was destroyed, and lost more ever since still. If this is one thing from her world they can bring, Keith'll be happy to make sure there are plenty.

With Shiro's head tipped down, he moves his hands to Shiro's shoulders, starting to softly work them, hoping to ease his tension some.]

[He makes a soft noise of contentment, and there is an effort while he visibly attempts to relax. His right shoulder is a mess, the muscle bunched up and knotted from the weight of the prosthetic, there's obvious obstruction to the range of movement there. When Keith hits a particularly tender spot, he outright groans, sucking in a breath as he slips his arm around Keith's hips and pulls him in close to brace against him.]

That feels incredible.

[His hands stutter at the noise, eyes wide at being pulled in close. That. That sure was a noise. It's not something he's heard outside a bedroom, or for anything as simple as a shoulder rub.

He gets his breath and lets his hands work again.]

Yeah? I can keep doing it, if you want.

Please.

[Just don't stop touching him.]

Make sure it's not aggravating your injuries, though.

Yep.

[He's less focused on the words and more on what he's being allowed to do now. The water's still hitting his back hot easing his own muscles while he shields it from Shiro's face.]

..I like doing this. [He never thought much before about things he likes. Things he can ask for or be allowed to have. But voicing that he likes something at all is a bit strange.]

[That's what draws him back. Shiro's never had a reaction this strong to something so simple, and he realizes-- there was none of this, in Black. No sense of touch, or taste, or sound, everything was just... colours and impressions, a vacuum, a void. All he had were memories, and if it weren't for her presence there he thinks he would have gone insane.

He's utterly lost, subsumed by the particular way Keith's damp hands slide across his skin, absorbed in the sensation but when he speaks, Shiro jolts a little, drawing a deep breath.]

Yeah?

[His voice is strangled.]

[Oh no.]

Yeah. I-i do.

[But he carefully stops, kneeling so he's eyelevel with Shiro, the water just hitting the back of his head. That voice has him worried; maybe he hit a raw nerve, in more ways than one.]

You wanna finish in here and dry off?

[It takes a monumental amount of effort not to say, don't stop. Instead: he exhales unevenly, and then leans in almost as a matter of impulse to kiss Keith. This one's less gentle than the previous ones, there's an undercurrent of need and obvious desire. Shiro's hand is in his hair, tangled up in it, holding him.]

[Oh. He was worried from the way Shiro's voice sounded, but maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he should just admit he's a lot lost on most of these sorts of things. The heat is starting to irritate the burn on his face and he isn't sure he trusts his knees on this slick floor. But Shiro's holding him, kissing him like he's the only meal he's had in ages.

Keith leans into it, carefully cupping Shiro's cheeks and keeping him close. After a minute, he readjusts, moving to straddle his lap to be closer.]