Chapter Text
It begins when Shiro texts the whole gang to say he has to cancel their game tomorrow. Everyone has received the same group message, which says:
I’m sorry guys we’ll have to report the game to next week ): I caught something nasty. Sorry for the last-minute change.
And they all send back various answers, that only Shiro can read.
no worries, itll force me to work on my thesis :’) -Pidge
i didnt know you could get sick mr. DM. ill start to believe you might be human just yet. maybe. take care! -Lance
I hope you’ll get better soon! xxx -Allura
Awh, we understand, don’t worry! See you next week! -Hunk
Takashi looks at all the messages, heart warming up as he smiles. He’s lying on his bed, wrapped up in a blanket, a box of tissues right beside him. His head is pounding viciously, and the light of his screen is not helping. He puts his cellphone down.
He pauses, stares at the ceiling, and picks it up again, looking at his messages. Keith hasn’t answered. Maybe he’s working? Hmm. He should’ve finished his shift by now. Not that Shiro knows his schedule by heart, it’s just that it doesn’t really change, so it isn’t hard to memorize, that’s all.
Minutes turn into hours, and the Shiro just… lies there. His headache has slightly faded thanks to the Advils he took, but his whole body still feel rusty, and the pressure behind his eyes and nose hasn’t diminished at all. Ugh. He doesn’t have time for that! The pathetic groan he lets out only reminds him that his throat feels like someone stuck a knife in it. He coughs, and it another blade strikes it. Great.
There’s a knock on his apartment door.
No, he’s not getting up right now. Whoever wants to sell him something can fuck off, please.
They keep knocking. For a whole minute.
“Shiro, I know you’re there and not sleeping. You liked Kosmo’s picture on Instagram ten minutes ago.” …Keith?
Groaning, he rolls off his bed, still wrapped in the blanket, and makes his way to the door, before unlocking it.
Keith, all wrapped up in winter clothes pushes the door open, right after that. He doesn’t look mad about waiting, but there is a little frown right under his red wooly hat. He’s holding two bags that he quickly puts down as soon as he gets inside.
With no sense of personal space, the smaller of the two takes his mitts and hat off, and rises a hand on Shiro’s jaw, cupping it gently. Then, his other hand does the same thing, on the opposite jaw, and he softly brings the taller man’s head down. He looks up and presses his forehead against his friend’s.
“You’re burning up…” he mumbles, still frowning. “Have you eaten yet?” Keith asks, as he lets go of Shiro.
“… no.” The man admits, without saying he didn’t feel like preparing anything, nor like putting anything in this painful throat of his.
“Good! ‘cause Hunk has made you chicken and noodles soup.” Keith says.
Oh. Well.
Keith takes his jacket off, and walks to the kitchen, taking his two bags along. Shiro follows him. Then, he reaches down one of them and pulls out a sizable thermos.
“Even if you’re not hungry, you should try to eat a bit. Or else cells fighting for your health won’t have enough energy~ or something like that. Pidge’s words, not mine.” Keith starts.
“Speaking of Pidge, she wanted me to tell you that she sent you the super relaxing game she’d been telling you about. The one where you’re floating in space and just discovering planets? It’s in your Steam account. An early birthday gift,” he explains, his frown slowly loosening into something softer. He gives the thermos to Shiro and reaches down the bag again. He holds out three lotions.
“From Lance. Eeerh… he told me that this one was… hmm. For dry skin or something? Oh, thanks God he made sticky notes.” He sighs in relief, when he turns one of the bottles to find said note, which is explaining in detail which lotion comes first, and how they’ll help him with his cold. Or, well, how it will help keep his skin fresh and beautiful even if he has cold-induced dry skin.
Keith puts them on the table and turns toward his second bag, before pulling out from it what looks like a very thick and plushy folded blanket. It’s pink. Keith can’t help but impulsively rub it against his face for a second. “So soft…” he mumbles, then looks up at Shiro and, well, has the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
“This is from Allura. She said it would keep you cozy, but that you-“ he stops, and looks away, with a short, almost nervous chuckle. Their mutual friend’s words had been ‘Tell him it will keep him warm, but that he should still share it with you because nothing beats a loving companion for coziness.’ Words that had made a flustered mess out of Keith.
“-Hmm. Never mind. Cozy it is,” he smiles, and his expression shifts, as he stares at his friend for a few seconds. It softens considerably, all traces of frowning disappearing.
“You look like a mess Takashi. Go on the couch, I’ll bring you the soup in a bowl, alright?”
Shiro sniffs, tries to be subtle about it, probably fails, and nods. He's mostly still pretty much disbelieving, and keeps blinking at Keith, and very much not heading to the couch. He knows he's been burning up for a while now, but even if Keith pointed it out to him... he'd gotten used to the temperature. Just... not so much to the accompanying headache. Though, he thanks Advils for that stupid inconvenience. The burning sensation he feels in his cheeks isn't sickness-related, he's distantly aware of that.
"Takashi?" Keith repeats, his expression a mix of worry and amusement- like Shiro's lack of movement is a little bit funny, but maybe he should worry and not find it amusing. The two seconds of silence from his friend make him settle on worrying, because Shiro's face is very red. He steps into the man personal space again, and stares up into his eyes, a little frown making its way back on his face. He’s trying to see if his friend’s eyes are glossy or not. One of his hands rises to his arm.
Hm. His eyes are not glossy-- they follow Keith, and Shiro’s lips pinch together, as if this meant he could prevent germs from crossing over to his friend from between them. But his nose is too clogged up right now and he has to re-open it to breathe, and talk.
"Thank you," he finally lets out weakly, sounding breathless.
"I'll let them know your answer," Keith shows a little grin, obviously understanding that the thanking is for all the friends who brought something for their DM.
"Come on, couch." His hand slides from Shiro's arm to his back, and settles low, as he starts guiding the taller man to his living room.
Shiro finds it easier to oblige when he's being guided. And for fuck's sake, he hates what he must look like-- cheeks flushed, hair tousled, runny nose, voice all off- Let's just say today is not the day he will charm Keith. And more than that, he's pretty sure this will set him back a while, and he's mad at himself for that. But also... doesn't have the energy to care too much. He still cares though, but the thought pushes itself to the back of his mind on its own.
"And you," he swallows thickly, thinking some warm liquid will probably feel great. "You fetched all this from everyone...?... for me...?"
"Something like that, yeah," Keith confirms, smiling as Shiro sits. He had started by asking Hunk if he wanted to make something warm for Shiro, since he knew Shiro couldn't cook for shit. Hunk had obviously taken the task to heart. Then Pidge had seen the message on the group chat Keith had created without Shiro, and had told Keith what she would do. Then Allura and Lance joined in, and he had gone to everyone's places to pick everything up.
He leaves the man alone for a few seconds, as he goes to the kitchen. He comes back with the soup, the blanket, and a box of tissues, that he puts right next to Shiro. He sits down too, next to his friend, with the tissue box between them. And for a moment he just looks at Shiro, with a little smile. He feels selfishly privileged to see him in such a vulnerable state.
Shiro takes a moment to blow his nose. Again, probably just... not the best sight for Keith. But he'll feel better eating if he doesn't need to breathe through his mouth to live. Though he still might. Damn.
He catches his smile anyway, and knits his eyebrows at the other man, feeling more than overwhelmed by the attention. And no doubt the affection that carries Keith's actions. It's just... he doesn't know the nature of whatever feelings brought him to everyone's door, and then here, and he's never been good with getting too many good things in a short time, so now there's guilt clawing at him and—
"Aren't you a bit afraid you'll catch whatever I have...?" It comes out choked up. Almost a sob, and Shiro has to wipe at his eyes, and force a smile.
Keith’s hand rises to his friend’s shoulder, and he rubs it gently.
“Nope," he answers, earnest, smiling, popping the 'p'.
Maybe he'll catch what Shiro has. But really, he's not 'afraid' to catch it. Nothing could have stopped him from coming here.
"I'm glad to be here," he adds, a little bit more softly.
Shiro laughs, the sound croaky, sniffs, and then nods. "Okay. Thank you. Sorry I'm a complete mess," he sighs, and even that sound is uneven in the most unfair way. "I'd only allow you to witness that. Ever," he tells him, finding his gaze again, and faltering under its softness. And dammit, Keith... it's such a good expression. It's so warm, Shiro feels he should heal right under it. God.
The words make a swarm of butterflies fly in Keith’s stomach, and he grins, trying not to show how much he's swooning.
"I'm honored," he says, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And don't apologize, I knew you were a mess before coming here. Takashi Shirogane, extraordinary DM, cancelling a game like that?" He shakes his head. "Alright, eat up before it gets cold," he points at the soup, hand leaving his friend's shoulder.
"Alright," Shiro smiles again, taking it, and ignoring how he feels about the other guy's hand leaving his shoulder. The soup. It's extraordinary. Of course it would be. Hunk made it. But it still takes the dm by surprise. Takashi hums as he eats it, and feels his mood pick up again. "Did you... want to watch a movie...?" He hopes he can keep Keith here longer that way.
He can’t suspect the younger man has actually been looking for a reason to extend his stay. His plan had been 'I want to make sure you're alright until you're asleep', but he didn’t have a way to say it that wouldn’t feel… awkward.
"Sure. You could play Pidge's game, if you want. I could watch." Keith suggests.
"Hmm. Maybe after, then? D'rather eat soup and drink tea right now..." He picks up the remote, boots Netflix, and immediately, without a second's hesitation, puts El Dorado on. Too much of a feel-good movie to pass up. And he'll mutter along with the lyrics the entire time.
Keith smiles when Shiro isn't looking. God. He loves the man. He dares shift a little closer, even if the evil tissue box is between them and he doesn't dare move it.
Dammit. Why did he put that there?
Shiro’s train of thoughts follow the same line.
Is it to keep a safe distance? But then why is he doing this to his heart- why is he shifting closer like that when all it succeeds in doing is make Shiro swoon internally? So... whatever that there's a box there. The second Shiro finishes his soup, he puts it on his lap instead of the empty bowl, which now rests on the coffee table in front of them.
The move looks weird to Keith. Shiro should at least blow his nose if he's taking the tissue box! Dammit. Now he wonders if his friend noticed he’d been shifting closer. If he did, is it… embarrassing? Keith isn't sure what's supposed to be, in their situation.
"Want me to make some tea?" He asks, not crossing the last empty space the absence of the tissue box now makes. He gets on his feet.
Shiro deflates a little bit. Sinks into the couch. "I'd love some," he admits. And then, lower, barely just above the action onscreen: "Then are you going to snuggle up? We can share Allura's blanket..."
Keith stares, and blinks once, just in time for his blood to rush up his cheeks.
"Yes. I can do that." Now his voice sounds weird. He absconds to the kitchen. It takes him a good 10 seconds before he remembers he came here to do something. So, he puts water in the boiler, and puts it on the heater.
It doesn't take long for the water to boil, merely two minutes, but it feels like the longest minutes of his life. Then he walks back with two mugs and tea, which he sets on the table in front of them. He slumps back on the couch, right next to Shiro. Reeaaaally close to Shiro. And he just… leans against him, heart hammering.
It's- Uhh. Dammit. It's- It's a good thing there's a movie in front of them. The sound might just cover up just how hard his heart is beating. As for his funny breathing... Shiro may have just tried to clear up his nose again, he does have an excuse for that, at least. He's only stiff for a tiny moment. It isn't long at all that he's melting back against Keith, mumbling some half-assed complaint about his state, and pushing the blanket over his friend's lap as his head rests on top of the other guy's. He swallows thickly, staying eerily immobile for another moment. And then he's shifting his head, so he can press his cheek against the guy's soft hair and nuzzle it a bit. And as sure as he is that he is being exactly zero subtle, he also decides he can live with being obvious. He wishes he could smell his hair... erff.
Meanwhile, Keith feels like he is going to explode. The butterflies have turned into a hoard of hippos rushing around. He's so happy. He really, really hopes it means something. His arm is a little bit cramped up between him and Shiro, so he shifts a little bit... and lowers his hand on Shiro's leg. Because it was there, obviously.
Takashi smiles and huffs against Keith's head, happy. He lets their position sink in for a moment. A moment that-- despite the movie, seems infinite. He wants to make sure they both get used to it. Lets scene after scene play out. Because as much as Keith can invade his bubble sometimes (not that he's ever complaining), moments like this one seem extremely rare. And... new. He's wrecking his mind trying to remember if his friend ever put his hand on his thigh like this. And whether or not he ever did, thinking too hard like this is making him dizzy. And so when Takashi shifts his head a tiny bit. And when he presses his lips to the top of Keith's hair, his own pulse going crazy from it... All he's thinking about is how this is a nice, safe spot to kiss.
Keith’s heart is still beating at an impressive pace. Slowly, deliberately, he dares moving his thumb against the man’s thigh. Once. Then twice, so the first time doesn’t look like an accident.
"I have a secret," Shiro says, in hopes to cover up how flustered Keith is making him. He can feel himself swallow hard, and his eyes slide shut. He wishes there wasn't so much light in here. There is still the ghost of pressure behind his eyes, and even if his head doesn't really hurt anymore, he can almost tell where the meds kick in, and where there is a pain still throbbing in his skull. "I didn't do.... anything productive today," he chuckles weakly, body slumping in his tiny moment of mirth. And Shiro keeps laughing. Keeps weighing down on his friend, wondering how he can even be holding him up at all when he's being so careless.
Today-- Keith's visit...? It has more value than he can tell. He won't believe it tomorrow, he knows, because he cannot even remember the last time he spent time alone with the guy. They text one-on-one, sure, but it's usually never... Anything like this. They both don't have the time. And Shiro is certain he hasn't been dropping hints. Hasn't been playing favourites. Sure- for sure, his gaze lingers sometimes... Keith is just too beautiful. He thinks his heart will break a little bit the moment the guy tells them he's got a boyfriend. But mostly... he's always told himself the only thing he'd have to mourn would be what they didn't even have a chance to explore. The time they didn't have for one another. So he'd be fine. Except maybe he wouldn't. Not when Allura looked at Shiro one day, in line to grab coffee, and planted a seed in his mind.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂
"He looks at you a whole lot, you know..." And Shiro knows. But also... he's the DM. Everyone looks at him, so he hasn't been letting himself notice it.
"Really," he says, absentmindedly, as he looks at his options on the menu.
"You're not paying attention. Shiro. I am talking about Keith. Crushing on you." Her voice is hard. Insistent. And Shiro is too stunned not to blink at her. "Excuse me?" he frowns.
"Dear Lord..." she flicks her eyes to the ceiling. She's wearing her hair up today. Like most days, unless they're playing. And it uncovers her face's round features. The way her neck meets her jawline, right before her ears, where large earrings dangle from... how blue her eyes are, contrasted against her dark skin in a way that unsettles everyone she meets... and Allura is a sight to behold. Of course... only Lotor has been able to withstand how fierce she can be, though no human has ever resisted a good old crush on her upon first meeting. "Keith. Give him a call-- I don't know. I'm surprised you too didn't hit it off that way the moment you met. Honestly..."
Suffice to say Shiro did no such thing. But... that seed Allura planted. It was just a fraction of his day. Of that hour. Shiro changed the conversation so quickly, hoping to God his mind wouldn't get stuck on it. And then it got stuck on it, and he kept acting normally, despite the place he was carving out for Keith in his heart. Very slowly. Very deliberately. Hearing him break character to his laugh as he watched Fay dance on a table, and kick two beers with a bad roll. That one earned itself a bit of room. And the time they went into a staring contest, and Keith got Shiro to look away, making him break character. He didn't recover, and found that he was too impressed to be butthurt. And he just kept on being friendly, and making very certain he did not treat the guy any differently than the others. Because... Becauuuseee...
⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂
He can't think why, now. As he regains a bit of balance, his laughter all gone. Keith is his goddamn favourite, and he hates that he hasn't spared him all of the soft glances. He hates that he didn't let him catch him looking even once. Or if he did, he would make a point to start looking at someone else for just as long. He was never cold, though. Of course not... but still, he has to wonder, how in spite of all that...
"... when did you ever get the time to get a crush on me...?" It's a murmur. So low, he wonders if the guy will miss it.
He doesn’t. Keith’s body stiffens before Shiro can even realize what he just said.
Fuck.