https://discord.gg/MZaTJX

“Come here,” Keith says, gesturing at Shiro. He’s still warm from training, coat discarded along the side. Shiro blinks from where he’s fighting with a space Capri Sun, straw bouncing against the foil. There’s a cute furrow between his brows. Keith gestures again. Shiro sighs and wanders over.

“Can you get this for me? It’s being complicated.” Shiro holds up the juice packet and Keith grins, plucking it from his hands. He stabs the straw through, easy as anything else, and Shiro blows out an exasperated breath. Keith wiggles the juice packet, laughing when Shiro ducks into his space to steal it back.

Their fingers tangle over the space Capri Sun, warm metal against Keith’s sweaty knuckles. Keith reaches up, catching the fragile cut of Shiro’s jaw in his palm, fingers ghosting over the blushed warmth of Shiro’s ear. Shiro raises a brow. Curling his fingers into the soft buzz of Shiro’s hair, Keith tugs until Shiro bows forward. He rocks up on the balls of his feet, lips brushing over the soft spring of Shiro’s bangs. Shiro blinks, swaying forward. Keith noses against his hairline, pressing another kiss against the furrow of his brows. With a pleased hum, Shiro slips a hand against Keith’s waist and holds him steady.

“What’s this for?” Shiro asks, quietly nudging into Keith’s touch.

Keith rubs his thumb against Shiro’s ear. “You couldn’t open the juice packet.”

Chuckling, Shiro tightens his hold on Keith. “So, I get forehead kisses if I’m being incompetent?”

“No,” Keith says, soft. He kisses at Shiro’s closed eyelids, the tight bridge of his nose, the flushed arch of his cheeks. “You get them because I want to give them to you.”

“Oh.” Shiro blinks, his smile soft and private, before he bows his head toward Keith once more.

Keith presses another gentle kiss to Shiro’s forehead, holds him there as they sway back and forth, the juice packet caught between their loose fingers.

so I drew forehead touches for andy a week or so ago for getting some v important work done, and she wrote me beautiful words for it in return ;u; 

words by @ashinan art by me

Coran tilts his head, pressing his mustache flat with his thumb.  “You know,” he comments slowly, “we do have enough chairs for all of you.  If there isn’t enough space, more can be brought it.”

The paladins all look up at the Alteans as if they’re the ones who are strange just for making the suggestion.  As if they hadn’t call crammed themselves onto a single couch, limbs tangled and flopped over each other like blind yupper cubs.

“We’re fine,” Pidge finally replies, from her perch draped over Lance’s back to better see what’s in Hunk’s hands.

Allura meets Coran’s eyes and visibly shrugs.  “Well, if you’re certain.”

“We are,” Shiro replies, calm and steady as ever, from the bottom of the pile.

Humans.  Completely inexplicable. 

[This got out of my control, lol. I really hope you like it!]

~*~

Ulaz lingers in the doorway to his chambers. He’d spent so much time at the Thaldecon base, he’d almost forgotten what home really is. And now his idea of home is already changing. There is a proprietary expression on his face as he watches Shiro sleep in his bed, face turned into Ulaz’s pillow and covered up to his chin. It is a rare occasion when Shiro sleeps without the line of his brow furrowed in some sort of discomfort, either physical or mental. Ulaz will selfishly presume it’s because of his presence, the safety the Blade of Marmora headquarters can offer him. He stays a moment longer before slipping out into the hall and heading towards the meeting chamber.

Kolivan awaits him, seated at the head of the table, one of the Altean tablets in hand. He puts it down as soon as the doors swoosh open and Ulaz lets himself in. When he approaches, he bends at the waist in a respectful bow. Most Galra don’t bow like that anymore. They don’t remember how or were never taught in the first place. Ulaz remembers a lot of things the Galra don’t do now, much like many of his fellow Blades.

“You wanted to see me, Leader?”

“Please be seated, Ulaz.” Kolivan puts the tablet down, tapping the screen so that darkens to sleep mode. “Are you well?”

“I am.” Ulaz sits. “Is there something to report?”

“Perhaps there is something you should be reporting to me.” When Ulaz quirks a brow, Kolivan continues. “I’d like to talk to you about Shiro.”

This is going to be interesting.