Curled up in the moment where the last shadows of night gave way to the first rays of dawn, Shiro recalls to Keith the first time he commented on his scars. Keith remembers it well, how the graceful dancer had eyed him so warily when he mentioned them.
“What do you think of them?” He had asked and Keith knew a hunter’s seeking arrow when he heard it. This was a test, but he planned to answer it truthfully anyway.
“Your body is a storybook.” He offered with a shrug. “And every scar is a well-worn page, marked from something important.”
Shiro confessed far later when they shared that same house and the same bed that he been rather shocked from such a complicated answer. He’d thought about it for a long time after. So many had mentioned the scars were beautiful, or they were easy to forget when he was dancing. He always knew they were lying.
Keith simply laughed, that same patient laugh that reverberated from deep in his chest. Snatching up his lover’s hand, he placed it over his own chest, with an old scar long since faded. He told him about the time he lost his temper with the horses and took a hoof to the chest that laid him out for days. He told him about the scar from trying to rush through cooking that taught him to be patient. He showed Shiro the old wound from the first time he’d fallen from his bike and skinned his knee and he helped him trace the scar on his face, another story and another reminder. They weren’t beautiful, per say, but they were important and no less a part of him than his (clearly) amazing hair. But in that way, they were beautiful because they were reminders of lessons and stories of bygone days. He was a survivor and he etched his victories in his own skin to never forget.
Shiro was quiet for a long moment. He wasn’t even certain when the tears began. Suddenly he had so many stories to tell of his own. Stories he had locked away long ago and fought to keep away. And Keith simply gathered him up and walked with him, tracing every scar, every ridge of broken skin and listened. And while the memories hurt, there were lessons there too. Stories of bravery and heroism. And stories of determination and perseverance. And in the end, they were no different from the scars on the farm that Shiro so easily dismissed. They were Shiro’s story, etched into his own body and they were a part of him as well.
“And yer beautiful, darlin’, so therefore, they must be too.’
It was a simple but profound lesson that the two would never forget and each one carried themselves a little stronger; a little prouder the next day.
A gift for the amazing and talented @tofuloo who brought to life the wonderful Yeehaw AU for Sheith. This AU has brought so much delight to the community and has touched so many hearts.
It’s so important to continue to celebrate the wholesomeness of good relationships and that’s part of the reason I fell in love with Sheith and this fandom to being with. And the Yeehaw AU is no exception. From a profoundly trusting and kind relationship to every little fluffy moment as well as the celebration of positive body images, an excellently positive portrayal of sex workers and dealing with important themes such as PTSD, anxiety, love, intimacy, and man I could go on and on.
I’ve always said that it’s important to put your stuff out there as you simply never know who you may touch. And I think tofuloo’s Yeehaw AU has proven that a thousand fold.
I humbly dedicate this art and drabble to you @tofuloo as a thank you for everything you’ve given us.
and Never Forget the Yeehaw Code ;3
(Made in Paint Tool SAI with a reference used for the pose because what even are human bodies?)
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