Don't Cry, Beloved

Wanted to share this Keith art I did a few days ago! The OG star boy⭐️

David Tennant and Michael Sheen at the BAFTA 2020 presenting the award for Best Mini Serie. They did it Staged style 😍

We have to match

This fic was entirely inspired by by this amazing art by @jjks-dodo

The first time it happens, Suguru doesn't know what to do with the present Satoru shoves into his hands.

“It’s not my birthday,” is the first thing out of his mouth, because it’s the first of December, so it’s actually closer to Satoru’s birthday than his own.

“I know that,” Satoru gives back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he’s vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

It’s kind of his default state whenever he does something, though, so it doesn’t really clue Suguru in on what’s going on here.

“What is this, then?” Suguru asks, lifting the present slightly. It’s wrapped, though haphazardly so, and Suguru knows that Satoru must have done it himself.

“If you’d unpack it, you’d know,” he snaps out, slightly on edge so this must be important to him.

Still, Suguru can’t help but to want to know more before he unwraps it.

“I’d like to know the occasion first, if you don’t mind.”

He’s wrecking his brain, trying to figure out if he missed some important date, some anniversary he wasn’t aware of–he wouldn’t put it past Satoru to remember the first time they shared a popsicle or something and then make a big deal out of it–but nothing comes to mind.

“It’s Christmas,” Satoru informs him, and it only serves to make Suguru frown harder.

“It’s really not,” he gives back, because it’s December 1st. Christmas is still far away, and it’s not even as if Suguru celebrates it anyway.

He didn’t think Satoru would, either, what with his family and all but clearly he’d been wrong about that.

“But it’s the Advent Season,” Satoru almost whines out, clearly bothered by the fact that Suguru didn’t open his present yet. “Will you just open it already, goddamit.”

Suguru hesitates for a moment longer, mostly just to annoy the hell out of Satoru, but he sees how the bouncing slows down, sees how Satoru worries the hem of his sleeves with his fingers and Suguru just knows that this is important to him, no matter what is in the present.

It’s important enough to Satoru to make him nervous about this and Suguru doesn’t have it in him to let him wait longer.

“Fine, fine, relax, would you,” he mutters, even as he rips the paper wrapping apart and he momentarily goes still when he finds a sweater.

A Christmas sweater to be precise.

It’s red and green with little reindeers all over and it’s kind of hideous if Suguru were to be honest, but he can’t be. Not when Satoru looks at him with so much expectation written on his face.

“Thanks?” Suguru finally manages to say, still unsure what he’s supposed to do with this, when Satoru suddenly whips out a matching sweater.

“The time leading up to Christmas is the best time and we’ll have to match, so I got you that one to match mine,” he excitedly says, clearly reassured by the fact that Suguru didn’t immediately throw the sweater in his face.

“We have to match,” Suguru repeats slowly, and the corners of his mouth twitch when Satoru nods vigorously, making his hair flop around.

When a strand gets stuck in Satoru’s eyelashes, Suguru reaches out without thought to push it away. He briefly feels panic lick up his throat when Satoru goes still under his fingers, but Suguru pretends as if nothing happens and takes his hand back as if it didn’t mean anything.

“You sure you got my size right?” he asks to break the weird tension between them and it’s enough to jolt Satoru back into action, though he can’t quite hide the faint blush on his face.

“A size  bigger than me, because of your stupidly huge shoulders,” he huffs out and Suguru laughs.

“I keep telling you, if you’d actually train like at least once a weak you wouldn’t be all noodle-limbed.”

“I’m not noodle-limbed!” Satoru huffs and puffs with outrage and Suguru laughs even louder. 

They both know it’s not true anyway; Satoru is good enough at hand-to-hand combat to best just about everyone they know, except, of course, Suguru.

“If you and your stupidly jacked arms rip this sweater apart, I’m not getting you a new one,” Satoru hisses at him when Suguru takes of the shirt he’s currently wearing to try the sweater on.

It’s a nice thought, not having to wear this hideous thing, but Suguru just knows that for all his faked outrage Satoru would be devastated and Suguru couldn’t stand it. So he slips into the sweater and lets out a relieved little sigh when it actually fits him.

He only feels slightly stupid when he turns around and he gives a pointed look at Satoru’s own shirt.

“Where’s yours then,” he wants to know and Satoru lights up like a Christmas tree.

“I have it right here, wait,” he rushes out, magicking out a second sweater from god-knows-where and he slips it on without hesitation. “Now we match,” he laughs out, bright and happy and for that alone Suguru would wear much worse things than a stupid, cute, matching Christmas sweater.

~*~*~

The second time it happens, Suguru is kind of expecting it. He knows Satoru too well to think he’d let something like this go, would only do it for one year and so when Satoru hands him a slightly better wrapped present, he accepts it without complaint.

“Cutting it a little bit close, huh?” he asks, because it’s already late in the night of the first of December and it’s not like Satoru to miss out on even a day of this.

Last year he made Suguru wear the sweater almost constantly, only allowing him to take it off to get it washed and for missions and so for him to almost miss an entire day is uncharacteristic.

“Yeah, well–” Satoru trails off, clutching his jacket more tightly around himself and Suguru narrows his eyes at him.

“What did you do?” he wants to know because it’s clear as day that Satoru is up to something.

“Nothing,” Satoru easily gives back, too fast and too smooth and Suguru’s fingers still on the paper. 

“I don’t think I want this anymore,” he says, shoving the parcel into Satoru’s chest who shoves it right back.

“You have to, though Suguru, we have to match, remember?” 

“I’m not so sure I want to match with you anymore,” Suguru lies straight through his teeth and a painful stab of regret is all he gets for his trouble when hurt briefly flashes over Satoru’s face.

“But–it’s tradition, right?” Satoru asks and Suguru shakes his head.

“One year doesn’t make a tradition, Satoru,” he tells him, though he does get back to unwrapping the sweater.

This one is thankfully only red as far as Suguru can see so far, and so that already makes it better than the last one, at least in Suguru’s opinion.

That thought only holds for as long as he needs to fully unfold the sweater though, because of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when it comes to Satoru.

The words ‘I’m the naughty one’ are stitched into the front in white and Suguru lowers it just enough to be able to glare at Satoru.

“What the hell is this?” he demands to know only for Satoru to grin brightly at him as he takes off his jacket, revealing a matching red sweater underneath it.

Except his says ‘I’m the nice one’.

“Absolutely not,” Suguru whispers under his breath, even as Satoru laughs right in his face in his glee but he gets the wind knocked out of him when Suguru throws his own sweater in Satoru’s face and then uses that moment of distraction to tackle him to the bed.

“Absolutely not!” Suguru repeats louder this time and starts to wrestle Satoru out of the sweater.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing, Suguru,” Satoru shrieks out, laughing so hard he can barely breathe when Suguru tries to distract him by tickling him but even like this it takes him a long time to finally, finally get Satoru out of the sweater.

“If one of us is the naughty one, it’s you,” Suguru pants out, sitting across Satoru’s legs and looking down at him, his hair falling around his face, bun having come undone somewhere in their tousle.

“But everyone expects that,” Satoru pouts at him, still breathing hard from screaming and laughing and his face is flushed red.

He’s absolutely beautiful.

“And besides, don’t act as if you don’t encourage me at every turn,” he adds and it’s not as if Suguru can even deny that.

Enabling Satoru is a bit of a bad habit of his but not everyone needs to know that.

“Do not,” he says, just to be contrary, and pulls the ‘I’m the nice one’ sweater over his head, so that there’s no chance of Satoru taking it back.

He stills when it settles around him.

“That’s my size,” he says, fixing Satoru with his eyes and Satoru blinks up at him.

“We have the same size?” he tries, even though they both know that’s bullshit and Suguru proves it to him by reaching for the naughty sweater and checking the size there.

“This one is one size smaller, though,” Suguru says and shoves the sweater almost into Satoru’s face.

“My mistake,” Satoru says, still not able to admit that he did this on purpose it seems and there’s only one possible punishment for that.

Suguru flops down on top of him.

“Uff, you oaf, don’t you know you’re heavy as fuck?” Satoru breathes out but his attempts at pushing Suguru off are half-hearted at best.

“I’m also tired as hell,” Suguru easily gives back and dares to nuzzle his face into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “I think I might sleep right here.”

“Hey, hey, Suguru!” Satoru squeaks out, though of course he’d never admit to that and Suguru huffs out a laugh.

Satoru is warm under him and kind of poky with his sharp edges but it’s the single most comfortable position Suguru has been in, simply because it’s Satoru, and soon enough he really gets sleepy.

“‘m gonna sleep now,” he whispers out and the last thing he knows is how Satoru scratches at his scalp as he breathes out a soft “Okay”.

~*~*~

Suguru is already holding his hands out when Satoru steps into the room.

“Let’s see what horrible thing you brought this time,” he says, making grabby hands at Satoru, who seems to have frozen right in the doorway.

“Uhm,” Satoru says, looking down at the present in his hands before he looks back up at Suguru.

He’s more nervous than he was even the first time he did this and it instantly puts Suguru on edge.

“Is it that hideous?” he wants to know, simply snatching the present out of Satoru’s hand, who tries to get it back but ultimately fails because he still can’t best Suguru when it comes to anything even resembling close combat.

“I just–” Satoru cuts himself off, clearly unsure of himself and Suguru fights the urge to soothe his nerves.

He fails miserably, because he always does when it comes to Satoru.

“You want me to give it back?” he asks, offering the present to Satoru, who doesn’t reach out for it. “If you don’t want to, we can skip this year,” Suguru goes on, even though it’s clear that some part of Satoru at least must want because he did get the sweater after all.

“No, it’s just–you might hate it.”

Satoru hasn’t been that unsure since the very first week of them knowing each other and Suguru hates it with a passion.

“Why would I?” he carefully asks but Satoru only shrugs. “Can I unwrap it?”

“Sure. Just remember that it doesn’t–you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

Of course I want to sits at the tip of his tongue, but Suguru bites it back. It’s not going to help if he reassures Satoru with meaningless words right now, so instead of saying that he busies himself with unwrapping this year's sweater.

This one is green for a change but by now Suguru knows to wait until he sees the front before he forms his decision on this, so he quickly unfolds it, holding it out in front of him.

In stark white it says ‘Family Christmas’ on the front and Suguru is glad that the sweater is hiding his face for the moment because to think that Satoru was nervous about this hurts him acutely.

“You hate it,” Satoru grumbles when Suguru takes a moment too long to say something. “I knew you’d hate it, that was such a dumb idea,” he goes on, his voice barely above a whisper and Suguru lowers the sweater so fast, Satoru flinches.

“Of course you’re my family, you idiot,” Suguru breathes out, instantly honing in on what made Satoru so nervous because he knows him after all. “It’s a great sweater.”

“It–is?” Satoru wants to know, clearly still not convinced and Suguru doesn’t hesitate to slide it over his shirt. 

“Of course it is,” he vehemently says, because it is. 

Satoru doesn’t quite seem convinced though, so Suguru pulls him into a hug. 

“You are my family, idiot,” he says, more fondly than maybe necessary, but Satoru doesn’t call him out on it and instead slings his arms around him.

“You sure?”

“I’ve been wearing stupid matching Christmas sweaters with you for the past two years, you really think I would do that for just anybody?”

Satoru doesn’t need to know that that really has nothing to do with being family and all with Suguru being stupidly in love with him. At least not yet.

Though a plan is slowly starting to take form in Suguru’s mind.

“I should hope not, actually,” Satoru gives back and Suguru rests his head on top of Satoru’s.

He doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t protest about the hug as much as he normally does–however feigned his protest usually is–and so Suguru knows that this really means a lot to him.

It means a lot to him, too, and so he’s more than content to stay right where he is.

~*~*~

Suguru barges into Satoru’s room at the tail end of the last day of November.

“I’ve got a present for you!” he calls out, throwing the wrapped gift right into Satoru’s face when he’s not quick enough to sit up and catch it.

Nerves are licking up Suguru’s spine but like this he can’t talk himself out of it. Not again. He talked himself out of it so often during the last year–years, really–and he thinks it’s time that one of them man’s up. He thinks he knows what Satoru’s answer is going to be, has seen it in the lingering stares, has felt it in the prolonged touches but there’s still that small chance that it’s all just because Satoru sees him as family.

As just family, and nothing more.

“What’s this?” Satoru wants to know, turning the present in his hands and Suguru rolls his eyes at him.

“If you’d open it, you’d know,” he shoots back, not sitting down next to Satoru because he needs to be able to read Suguru’s own sweater once he unpacked his.

It doesn’t help with the nerves, when Satoru has to look up at him like that, though.

“Is this–a sweater?” Satoru asks, squeezing the package in his hands. “Did you get me a Christmas sweater?” He almost sounds accusing and Suguru raises an eyebrow at him.

“What? You can do it, but I can’t?”

“But I have ours picked out already!”

“Yeah, well, shucks. It’s my turn, this year,” Suguru decides and he closes Satoru’s mouth when it drops open.

“Wow, didn’t know you could be so rude,” he mutters, Suguru’s hand still under his chin and Suguru gives him his best grin.

“I learned from the best. Now, if you would?”

“Now, if you would,” Satoru repeats mockingly under his breath, but he does rip into the paper, quickly unveiling the sweater.

At first glance it’s simply red, but of course there’s something written on the front and Suguru’s heart beats in his chest.

“I have everything I want for Christmas,” Satoru reads out loud and Suguru can see the frown on his face. “That’s not even funny, Suguru,” he then whines out, turning his gaze back to Suguru, who feels as if he could die on the spot.

His mouth his dry, his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might jump right out of his chest and the butterflies in his stomach make him a little bit sick.

“It’s not supposed to be funny,” he still somehow gets out as he opens his jacket and shows Satoru the matching sweater he’s wearing.

It’s green and the words “It’s me, I’m everything” are written on the front.

Suguru watches how Satoru’s eyes go wide as he slowly takes in the words and he knows it’s all going to be fine when Satoru blushes a furious red.

“What does that mean? Suguru, what does that mean?” he demands to know, almost shouting out the words in his urgency and Suguru smiles at him.

“Take an educated guess,” he replies, though he doesn’t torture Satoru–or himself–any longer.

He bends down, briefly pressing his lips to Satoru’s to make it abundantly clear just what this all means and he knows Satoru finally goes with the program when his hands fly up to tangle in Suguru’s sweater, keeping him right where he is, keeping him close.

“Does that mean I don’t get any other Christmas presents this year?” Satoru pouts out, though Suguru can see how his eyes shine with happiness. 

He leans in to taste that smile once more.

“Maybe if you’re being good, I have one or two for you,” he breathes out, and this time it’s Satoru who leans in for a kiss.

“But everyone knows I’m the naughty one,” Satoru mutters against his lips and Suguru laughs.

Satoru steals the sound right from his lips.

“Maybe I’ll part with that sweater just this once,” Suguru muses but Satoru shakes his head. 

“Not a chance in hell, we’re never going to take these ones off. I love you.”

Trust Satoru to still be the first one to say it, Suguru fondly thinks as he’s almost drowning in his love. 

“I love you,” he quickly gives back, peppering Satoru’s face with kisses until he’s laughing with happiness.

“I want everyone to know,” Satoru eventually says, once they are cuddled close on the bed and Suguru snorts out a laugh.

“Kind of inevitable if you don’t want to take that sweater off ever again,” he gives back and Satoru beams at him.

“Best way to tell everyone. Best way to tell me, actually, “he adds after a moment and Suguru simply has to kiss him again.

“Thought you might like it,” Suguru nods, pulling Satoru closer. “Glad you like it.”

“Love it,” Satoru immediately corrects him. “Just like I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Suguru mutters, getting sleepy now that all the adrenaline is out of his system and he’s warm and cozy in bed, with the love of his life safely in his arms.

He nuzzles his face against Satoru’s shoulder and breathes one more kiss on his skin before sleep slowly drags him under.

The last thing he hears his a muttered “You think there are sweaters for proposing?” and Suguru falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He really wouldn’t mind a sweater like that.

joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"

recent stsg/sgst arts that makes me happy

his warmth

The Letters I write by Frredom_of_speech333 on ao3

Summary:

Shoto ran away from home and works at a barista at the nearby coffeeshop. He lives in a ten mile perimeter, away from prying hero eyes. He’s quite fine with his life until he meets Izuku. He wants to protect him, to be by him, to shared in the green haired’s joy and sorrows. This is the story of Shoto opening up his walls as he falls in love, told in letters to his dead brother.

Dear Touya,

    I nearly died today. Or, well, I think I did. 

I was on my way to work when a large woman with long blonde hair and green eyes bumped into me. She was having a bad day and threatened to ‘crush my skull’ if I didn’t pay her for wasting her time. I forget my wallet at home. I think I had a panic attack because I started breathing heavy and woke up looking at a shining sun of messy green hair and emerald eyes.

 His name is Izuku Midorya. After I passed out he stepped in and…. Somehow got me out. He won’t explain how. He must have used his quirk. I won’t tell on him though, he saved my life. And he’s cute. 

Still Alive,

Shoto T.

•••••••

Dear Touya, 

   I saw him again today. He showed up at the coffee shop and ordered a double expresso mint extreme, no foam.  He has a new bruise on his jaw and an infected cut on his third knuckle, right hand. 

  I put my number on his cup and asked him to call me if he gets hurt again. His face, was interesting. It turned all red and he started spluttering. He might have high blood pressure from the coffee. I tell him that when he calls.

Sincerely,

Shoto T.

••••••

Dear Touya,

   Midorya texted me. I invited him over but he said we should take it ‘slow’. Why would he want to wait to fix his injuries? Is he afraid it will hurt? We scheduled to meet at the park for a picnic lunch. I suggested the bench by the tree. It’s above ground, visible, and I can hide in the nearby crowd if He shows up. 

   I packed some soba, sauce, and a few fishcakes. Do you think he likes fish? You never did but I think he might enjoy it.

Sincerely,

Shoto T.

•••••••

Dear Touya,

   Midorya is quirkless. He always wanted to be a hero but wasn’t allowed to attend hero schools. He doesn’t have a home and lives on the streets. His face looks sad when he talks about his mom and lights up when you mention all might. 

  He saw me that day because he had been on the lookout for Miss Kim, the lady who assaulted me. She’s a big boss around here who makes a living off of newcomers. Midorya has been intercepting her and helping people.

   I think he’s great for helping people, but he doesn’t seem to care about his own well being. He had two cuts above his eyebrow, several bruises that will need time to heal, and his arm was dislocated. He didn’t say anything when I relocated his arm, which is concerning. How do I help him more? 

Frustrated,

Shoto T.

••••••

Dear Touya, 

We met up after work today. He came up to the counter and asked ‘how the most handsome person in the world is doing?’. I thought it was weird because he could have asked himself, but he said he was fine. His face became red again tho.

   We chatted about our days and I told him about Endeavor. I want him to trust me, and to like me. Honesty is the foundation of any relationship. At least, that’s what the internet says. Besides, I have several plans if he… but Midorya is different. 

  He cares. Too much I think. 

Sincerely,

Shoto T.

••••••••

Dear Touya,

   Midorya has been visiting me after work for a week now. It’s, nice. He even offered to walk to the store with me. I usually order online because it goes past the local heroes daily route.

   It was nice, we went through a couple alleyways to avoid detection and I got some fresh food. I forgot what apples tasted like. Too bad they don’t ship apples.

   I invited Midorya to spend the night. He was walking on a sprained ankle. I covered it with an ice pack and wrapped him up. He is asleep on the mat right now. I’m writing in the bathroom so the light won’t wake him up. 

 I wonder what he thinks about my ‘studio’. I don’t do art but that’s what it’s called. Midorya likes katsudon. I’ll make him some for breakfast.

 Your Brother,

Shoto T.

•••••

Dear Touya,

   It’s nice living with Izuku. And frustrating. He keeps pushing me to expand my three block traveling distance and visit another city. Traveling brings attention I don’t want, can’t he see that? But I understand why. The cherry blossoms were beautiful and the crowds actually hid us from any watchful eyes. 

  Izuku loves going on dates, even if it’s just a few candles and bowl of ramen. Oh, and we are dating now. I should have started with that.

  Touya, I’m concerned. He continues to help people, even when he is hurt. It’s hard to see him in pain, but he seems to enjoy it. Knowing he made someone else’s day better, I mean. He reminds me of you, and that scares me. Because your dead, and I want him alive.

 Sincerely,

Shoto T.

••••••••

Dear Touya,

   Izuku didn’t come home yesterday. I can’t call the police because they’ll bring me back to him. And his boss flipped me off when I asked him today. 

   I’m scared. What do I do?

Sincerely,

Shoto T.

————-

Knock-knock

   Shoto got up from the mat and peered thru the eyehole of his door. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled it open. 

   Izuku was covered in blood, supported by a badly burned raven haired man with familiar blue eyes.

   ‘Touya?’ The raven haired man grunted in reply as he pushed his way in and lowered Izuku onto the tatami mark. 

   ‘Great pick in partner little sho’, got some brains, this one.’ Touya sighed and looked at Shoto, who was still frozen by the door, stunned. ‘That was sarcasm, come here, and close the door.’

   Shoto quickly shut the door, checking that it was locked, before scrambling next to Izuku with the med kit.

   Izuku’s arms were broken and bruises danced all over his body. The blood was coming from a cut on his lip and one on his leg that was deep enough to put his finger into.

   Opening the kit, Shoto got to work bandaging Izuku up and creating ice to soothe his wounds.

  Touya sat back and watched as his brother to care of the dumbass who he loved. 

   ‘You really like him, hmm?’ Shoto looked up at Touya, lines of tears running down his face.

   ‘I thought you were dead.’ Shoto said. 

   ‘We’ll, you sure wrote a lot of letters to a dead person.’ Shoto blinked in surprise, he left the letters at the cherry tree in the park. He always assumed some squirrel was grabbing them away. 

   ‘You read them? Why didn’t you talk to me, write back?’ 

   Touya looked out the window, a beautiful view of a brick wall. ‘I’ve been in hiding too. You know what he’s like. Besides, you wouldn’t have accepted my help if you knew it was me.’ 

 Shoto’s brows furrowed. ‘What help?’ 

 ‘Your boyfriends alive, isn’t he? Your not the best hider you know. Endeavors not the only one who wants you. Plenty of villains fancy you have a high random.’ Touya looked back a Shoto, a smile stretching his scars.

  ‘I’m glad you got away. You made a pretty good life for yourself.’ Touya stood up and walked towards the door. ‘I wanted to be a hero, and it killed me. Now I just want to fix what father broke. My family. You should answer Fuyumi, she misses you.’

And with that he walked out the door. Leaving Shoto to tend to Midorya. And text his sister.

————-

Dear Touya, 

   Thank you. Fuyumi misses you too. And Izuku says he would love to meet you, when he’s not passed out. Maybe we can meet up sometime. You know where to leave a reply. 

Sincerely,

Shoto T.

Nanami and his weird cat he can’t get rid of

When the paladins touched down on Earth, it quickly became Reunion Central. Not that Keith has a problem with it, he’s just unsure of how to approach it. He doesn’t exactly have anyone to return to.

However, he doesn’t have to think about that, the decision is made for him.

He’s pulled into many a meeting of the family, given introductions he immediately forgets and hearing stories about himself. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance are thrilled to show their first families their second one. Keith, Allura, Coran, and Romelle are passed around like trading cards to the tune of “These are my parents!”

Though Keith will admit he’s avoiding Lance’s family. Nothing against them personally, it’s just… there’s so many of them, and they’re all as touchy feely as Lance. He appreciates a good group hug from the team, but it’d be different with people he’s only heard stories about.

Luckily, he’s saved from a social interaction he doesn’t want to participate in yet.

“Keith. Akira. Kogane.”

Unluckily, it’s replaced by a less favorable one.

Keith stiffens, staring but unseeing at Hunk’s grandmother. She, and the rest of the Garretts, turn to the source of the full name yelled across the way. Keith… doesn’t. He stares at the ground, unable to hide his grimace as he hears boots marching towards him.

Someone please put him back into a magic robo-cat that shoots lasers. He’d gladly get into a space fight than talk to him.

“Where the hell did you go!?” he asks, grabbing Keith by the shoulder and turning him around. Keith stares up into brown eyes covered by glasses, rage in those irises. Behind his head, Shiro is sending him a sympathetic smile, unable to stop his fiancé once on the warpath.

“Your brother goes missing and you think the best reaction is to do the same!?” Adam all but screeches.

“Hi Adam,” Keith manages. He missed him, he really did, but he also 100% knew this was coming.

“Don’t Hi Adam me, young man! Where did you go? Do you know how much I was looking for you? I was so worried! And you didn’t even say anything, you just left! Right after I get told my fiancé is dead!”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry and we both know that.”

“Yeah…”

Adam sighs, like this is the biggest problem he has right now, and pulls Keith into a tight embrace. But not too tight. He still remembers how Keith likes his hugs. Keith hugs back.

He’s just as warm as Keith remembers him, and he still smells the same, like vanilla and cinnamon. It’s moments like these where Keith gets why Shiro fell in love with him.

“You’re grounded, by the way.”

“What!?”

shh they are resting