That Rush

Keith wakes in the middle of the night, trembling and shaking. Breaths hard and heavy labored. Restricted with effort of control, before the become smaller. More even. The threat of choking no longer there. Then and only then does he allow himself to hunch over in his bed, head in hands, and break. 

"Well good morning to you too," Shiro says, trying to keep the start to their conversation friendly, but the worry seeps through anyways. 

 It's the first time they've spoken in a week, but not the first time they've seen each other. If Shiro hadn't said anything just now, it would've been the third time they've walked right past each other but said nothing. And this is Keiths favorite class. His class. 

 There's something sickly wrong with it. Before, Keith was just a zombie. Listless. Tired. Unsociable. Isolating himself. Shiro knew sometimes Keith needed it. For Keith, sometimes it was preferred; It was how he recharged, how he had fun. But now? Now Whenever Shiro even slightly acknowledges Keith, if he doesn't get a zombie groan, he gets this little worried look. A cross between "Oh, is he talking to me? Oh no he is," and severe, internal torment. Keiths such a bad liar he doesn't even have to say anything, and Shiro can see right through him; It's all on his face. This look of such conflict, his mouth opening a closing for the briefest of seconds. Eyes clouding over one moment and darting away the next. But in the end, Keith looks elsewhere and walks away, every time.

 It's like watching the ouroboros eat it's own tail. It's wrong. It hurts to watch. 

 Today is no different. Today, Keith is a zombie and gives Shiro a rough grunt of acknowledgement; Most likely intentionally muffled to sound like some kind of greeting. Just vague and indecipherable enough that people won't bother to ask anything back. 

  Shiro can't stand it any longer. Keith is his best friend-- Even more than that, a longheld crush he just hasn't been able to spill yet.-- He can't stand there and watch Keith hold everything in any longer. 

 So when the final hour is over, and Shiro dismisses the class, he calls out "Keith!", before the young man can escape through the double doors, "I need a word with you, before you go." Keith looks like a cat caught somewhere he shouldn't be. Not expecting to be caught; Surprised; Mildly threatened, but mostly holding in fear. It would be amusing if it weren't so serious. 

 Anytime that Keith avoids him is a bad sign, given he has to convince Keith not to bodyguard him most days. 

 He stalks reluctantly down the stairs like he's expecting to be held to a guillotine if he gets too close. Keith stops five feet apart from Shiro, on the last stair. Hands in his pockets, eyes not quite meeting Shiro's steel grey. "Whats up?"

 "You've been distant."

 Keith looks between them, eyes pointing the the literal space apart. "There's a cold going around."

 "That's not what I meant; But I'd like it if you stood a little closer too."

 The younger mans lips seem to jut into a short pout, and reluctantly-- Like he's been challenged, and he's got something to prove-- Keith takes a few steps closer, until they're a normal foot apart. Eyes straining to be held so closely. Shiro feels his heart thud painfully in his chest, and his expression must show it, because Keith looks at their feet and stays there. 

 "I miss you, Keith."

 That gets him. 

 One dark mop of hair shoots up, genuine surprise all over his face. Lips open,-- Closed, open. Then closed again. The petulant look on his face is long gone now. 

 "Please," Shiro starts. Voice gentle and unassuming. "Won't you tell me whats wrong?"

 And there it is-- That painful, conflicted look again. That internal fight, visible from the outside, but untouchable if Keith won't talk. He's muted himself, and Shiro wants to reach out and tug him in. 

 "I-" Keith starts and stops. "I'm fine, Shiro." He settles on. 

 "Keith," The names comes out like like Oh Honey. Oh sweetheart.  "Please. I can tell when somethings wrong. You haven't talked to anyone-- To me, in a week." Dark grey smoulders into Keiths violet, and Shiro takes one unconscious step closer. "Whatever it is that's bothering you, I want to help." There's a hand on Keith's shoulder now, and the touch triggers a change in his expression. Big eyes blowing bigger, glossed with emotions. Warbling, tightening with conflict. Whatever is inside Keith, is coming to a boil. 

 Shiro wants him to speak so bad. His face looks so worried. Every part of him yearning for Keith to let him in. 

 "Please," His voice dips lowly. His hand smoothing it's way over Keiths back. "Tell me what you need."

 "I can't," Keith says, finally breaking. Expression crumbling a little, eyes searing. Teeth clenched behind his lips. 

 Shiro makes sure not to withdraw his hand, and not to move away. "Why not?"

 "Because you can't help." In his peripheral, Shiro can see Keiths posture straightening. Tightening with his hands at his sides. Not fists, but clenched hard into the stretchy, soft material of his skinny jeans. Pulling it from his legs for comfort. The sight alone makes his heart throb. 

 "Why can't I help?"

 "Because," Keith starts. Pauses. Bites over his lip. Closes his eyes for a long moment, inhales, and speaks; Eyes cracking open. "Because, if I tell you then you won't, and it'll just hurt."

 Now it's Shiro's turn for his expression to warble. "Keith," He grips his shoulder firmer. "You don't want to talk about it because you're scared I'll ignore it after?"

 Keith doesn't speak, but he gives a shuddery, small nod. 

 It's all the motivation Shiro needs to pull Keith into a tight, needy hug. And after a breathe, a short little gasp, he feels Keith wrap his arms around Shiro in kind and just shake. Dark mop of hair tucked down into Shiro's shoulder and oh. Ow, his heart hurts. 

 "Have I ever done that before, Keith?" Have I ever given you reason to doubt me? Shiro asks. 

 "Yes," Keith croaks out, and Shiro can feel him stiffen in the hold. Like he's preparing to flee, and it just digs the wound in his ribcage deeper. 

 Shiro holds him closer, tighter, in response. 

 "I'm sorry," He says. "I'm so, so sorry Keith. I wish you would've told me that I'd done that, so I could make it better."

 "It's okay."

 "It's not okay." Shiro runs his hands up Keiths back, pressing his cheek to Keith hair. His shoulders have started to shake. His voice has begun to quiet-- to crack. "I don't want to give you any reason to think you can't talk to me Keith-- About anything. And I'm sorry that I did." Shiro gives him another squeeze, and he could swear he hears something akin to a whimper, lodged in Keiths throat. 

 "Please. Will you let me make it up to you?"

 He can hear the little swallow of Keiths throat. Wait's out the storm inside of him, until there's a little warm spot forming against his shoulder-- And Keith suddenly finds his voice again. "Maybe."

 That'ta boy. "If this conversation goes well?"

 Keith nods against his shoulder. "Mhmm."

 "Tell me whats wrong, Keith. Tell me, so I can make it better."

 A long moment passes. The final battle on the frontlines of Keiths mouth. This time there is no shudders, or looking away. This time Keiths digs into Shiro as much as he does himself, and Shiro holds him through it as long as Keith needs. "You're gonna leave," He starts. His voice sounds punched out, and Shiro can hear the fear in it. The fear that he shouldn't say this. The fear that he will regret every choice he's making right now, or later. That he's creating more pain than he can handle or repair. "You're gonna leave, so I shouldn't-- I shouldn't even be here right now--"

 Shiro tightens his hold, and it draws the most endearing, sweet little squeak out of the distraught boy in his arms. 

 "I'm not going to leave. I'm not going to leave you Keith." And he can't help it-- He lets one hand sink into his hair. Petting and soothing down the wild back of it, no doubt sending tingles up the back of his neck. "Please, don't leave me because you think I'll leave you. I'm sorry I hurt you. Whatever I did-- Whatever happened that made you so scared-- I promise, I won't leave. I love you, Keith." It slips out on it's own, but once it's out, Shiro refuses to take it back-- Regardless of how Keith takes it.

 And by the way Keith stops, sniffs, and says, voice croaking, "I love you too Shiro." Shiro thinks it's taken well. "I love you so much- I love--"

 "Awww, hey, Shhh. It's okay." Shiro can't help but coo. Picking Keith slightly in their hold, the tips of his toes dragging against the cheap school carpet. "Is that why you started trying to disappear?" 

 It's just a guess-- Shiro could've been wrong. But the way Keith stops, stiffens, gasps on a sob before he starts to struggle makes an odd laugh bubble up out of his throat, he's so stupidly endeared. "Oh, Keith," It comes out on it's own. One more little squeeze, and Keith stops struggling, and starts to cry. 

 "Stop, shuddap." His head ducks down into Shiros neck. "I hate you."

 "Aw, baby." Shiro can't help but pick him up and rock him a little, "You're so sweet. And so precious. It's okay, Keith. I love you too. I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to hurt you, it's okay."

 "But you will!" Keiths hands tighten on Shiro's jacket, and he sobs into his shoulder. "Everyone does-- Everyone- Everyone always, always--" A tremble. A choked, painful little sound. "I love you so much Shiro. I don't-- I don't wanna--" Keith pauses, and gives another achey, dry sob. Curling tight into Shiro's hold. "If I lose you, I'll--"

 "You won't." Shiro soothes, smoothing Keiths back up and down. Rocking him. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'm so sorry I hurt you baby. I'm sorry. But I promise, if you talk with me about it, I'll make it better. I'll make up for all the hurt, okay?" 

 It's times like these Shiro remembers just how fragile Keith is, juxtaposed to how strong he can be. A heavy armor donned on the outside, to the protect the soft, sensitive feelings on the inside. He's trembling now, and there's a bone deep ache in Shiro's sternum, driving a wedge into a place that's already full. 

 "Shiro," is not a word, not a name, but a plea on Keith's tongue. 

 "I promise, sweetie. Everytime you push me away, I'll tug you back even harder. Every second you go too long, I'll spend more with you. I won't leave you, Keith. I'll make sure of it. I won't abandon you sweetheart. I'll make sure you'll never have to feel that way again."