[ That flusters him. He hadn't really imagined that yet and now he can't stop because the more he tells himself not to consider what that'd be like -- the actuality of that, of it being real, well. It's a lot to consider. Matt keeps talking, though, and thankfully snaps him out of it.
The seriousness of the next statement is enough to kill any swell of arousal in an instant. He hadn't intended to make a point of watching, but once it's said he finds his eyes linger a moment, worried. He'd seen the way the rebels ate, and Hunk had come to him saying that potentially there were people holding onto food in their rooms because things were going missing. Shiro got it; he'd been almost the same after escaping the Galra; the first plate of food Keith put in front of him he'd very nearly hoarded it out of instinct, like he was in the pits again. Being on the edge of hunger was never fun. He can't fix everything wrong in the universe, but he can make sure he helps with this. Black's fast enough to make extra trips to transport goods. He can make sure that when they do leave, it's with as much food as they can carry. ]
Give Hunk a little longer and he'll figure out something to help. He made those protein bars specifically for me because I seem to burn through food faster these days.
[ 'Because I train like an insane person when I can't sleep which is often' isn't an answer he's going to give even jokingly. Shiro changes and refolds his clothes in a neat stack, Garrison habits sticking strong even this long after. Clad in the same tshirt and a loose pair of sweat pants with socks, he pads closer and flattens both hands over the front of Matt's chest. He's good at this, come on. ]
For the record, the sight of you in my room, in my shirt is-- nice.
like what is the character designer's intent with that thing is it like they liked gun harnesses?
[ That flusters him. He hadn't really imagined that yet and now he can't stop because the more he tells himself not to consider what that'd be like -- the actuality of that, of it being real, well. It's a lot to consider. Matt keeps talking, though, and thankfully snaps him out of it.
The seriousness of the next statement is enough to kill any swell of arousal in an instant. He hadn't intended to make a point of watching, but once it's said he finds his eyes linger a moment, worried. He'd seen the way the rebels ate, and Hunk had come to him saying that potentially there were people holding onto food in their rooms because things were going missing. Shiro got it; he'd been almost the same after escaping the Galra; the first plate of food Keith put in front of him he'd very nearly hoarded it out of instinct, like he was in the pits again. Being on the edge of hunger was never fun. He can't fix everything wrong in the universe, but he can make sure he helps with this. Black's fast enough to make extra trips to transport goods. He can make sure that when they do leave, it's with as much food as they can carry. ]
Give Hunk a little longer and he'll figure out something to help. He made those protein bars specifically for me because I seem to burn through food faster these days.
[ 'Because I train like an insane person when I can't sleep which is often' isn't an answer he's going to give even jokingly. Shiro changes and refolds his clothes in a neat stack, Garrison habits sticking strong even this long after. Clad in the same tshirt and a loose pair of sweat pants with socks, he pads closer and flattens both hands over the front of Matt's chest. He's good at this, come on. ]
For the record, the sight of you in my room, in my shirt is-- nice.
[ Nailed it. ]