Work Text:
Keith rested his hand on the cave's mouth, wincing at the buckets of rain pouring from the sky. "It's really coming down out there."
From behind him, Shiro laughed softly, and it turned into a cough. "Too bad I can't move. I could use the shower."
Keith turned away from the storm and glared at Shiro, though he wasn't one hundred percent sure Shiro could even see it. "Your sense of humor is terrible."
Shiro huffed. "I have a great sense of humor. You just don't appreciate it."
Keith paced the length of the cave. It wasn't terribly deep, but it was enough to keep them out of the torrential storm that had sprung up out of nowhere. Instead of trying to get back to their Lions, still recovering from the fight, he and Shiro had been forced to take shelter. Plus, the cave was cold, and getting colder every minute the storm stayed over them.
He searched every nook and cranny—not that there were many—but he couldn't find anything that might be used to start a fire. Anything outside the cave would be soaked by now. He'd been too concerned with getting Shiro somewhere safe and dry that he hadn't stopped to pick up firewood.
"It's going to be okay," Shiro said, his voice nearly drowned out by the pounding of the rain. "Pidge has trackers in our helmets. They'll find us soon."
"Will the trackers work if our comms don't?" Keith asked.
"I'm sure they will," Shiro said, and anybody else would probably have missed the thread of uncertainty in his voice.
Keith stalked back over and checked the wound in Shiro's leg, and then the one along his ribs. The paladin armor was pretty sturdy, but whatever hellbeasts lived on this planet had claws that went through it like butter. The makeshift bandages around both needed to be changed soon, but Keith wasn't sure he should leave Shiro's wounds uncovered for the time it would take to wash the bandages and dry them again.
"Keith."
He looked up at the sound of his name to see Shiro staring at him, eyes dark and earnest.
"It's going to be fine," Shiro said again.
Keith shook his head. "You're cold. I should have found fuel for a fire."
"It's fine."
"Shiro—"
"It's fine," Shiro repeated, and then he shivered.
Keith cursed and sat beside him. "How wet are your clothes? Do you need to take them off? I can go find something to start a fire—"
"No," Shiro cut him off. "No, just...stay here, with me."
Keith froze, not sure what it was that Shiro meant. But Shiro just looked tired, tired and in pain and heartbreakingly young. It made Keith want to do whatever he asked to take that look off his face, and simultaneously he wanted to run back into the forest and cut down every creature that had injured Shiro in the first place.
But the second one wouldn't heal Shiro any quicker, and it sure as hell wouldn't get them back to the castle.
"We should take off our armor," Keith said.
Shiro winced and closed his eyes. "Keith—"
"If we take off our armor, then we can share body heat," Keith pointed out. "You're cold and injured, and if I'm staying with you, I'm going to make sure you stay warm."
Shiro half-closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cave wall. "I can see I'm not talking you out of that, then."
"No."
"You'll have to take mine off, in that case." Shiro gestured at himself. "Not sure if I'm up for quite that much exercise right now."
Keith nodded and stripped out of his own armor, down to the black bodysuit he wore under it. Then he moved to strip Shiro, working as quickly and carefully as he could. He did his best not to jostle Shiro's injuries, but from the occasional hiss of breath, he didn't entirely succeed.
"Sorry," Keith said, and set the last piece of armor aside. He left their helmets close enough that they could hear it if someone tried to get in touch with them.
Shiro shook his head. "It's okay."
Keith sat beside him. "It's not okay. I don't like hurting you."
"It's inevitable, then," Shiro said. "At least right now."
Keith lifted Shiro's arm and pressed himself along his uninjured side, wrapping one arm around his chest and wiggling the other under his back. "How's this?"
Shiro lowered his arm, resting it on Keith's back. "Good. This is good."
They stayed there, Keith clinging to Shiro as best he could without causing him any more pain. He rested his head on Shiro's chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the way his muscles slowly relaxed the longer they stayed together. At first, Shiro shivered occasionally, but the longer they stayed like that, the more sporadic those shivers became.
"You're warming up," Keith murmured.
"Mm-hmm," came the response.
Keith looked up. Shiro's eyes were closed, and his heartbeat was slowing.
Keith tensed. "You shouldn't fall asleep."
"That's only if you have hypothermia," Shiro said, his words slurring slightly. "Not going to get hypothermia."
But Keith's heart was in his throat, fluttering like a bird, because the thought of Shiro closing his eyes and not waking up was— "If we both fall asleep, we might miss a message."
Shiro poked him in the side. "Then you stay up for me. Wake me when our ride gets here."
Keith nodded, and settled in at Shiro's side to wait.
"Thank you for staying with me," Shiro whispered.
"I'll always stay with you," Keith answered fiercely, and meant it with every fiber of his heart.
His only answer was Shiro's deep, even breathing, and a small smile.