❝ yeah, you keep telling yourself that bullshit. ❞ [for shiro xD because he's missed that idiot]
He simmers for a long moment, heating up under the intensity and truth of Steve's words. Steve's always managed to evoke the strongest desires from Shiro, but they were usually of contradicting nature. Right now, he either wants to punch him in the face for daring to be so brutally honest, or walk into his embrace where he knows he and all his demons are accepted.
They'd had a good run . . . all of two weeks back in each other's company and Shiro had started to wonder why it had been so difficult for them to work things out between them the first ( and second ) time around. They reconnected like magnets kept apart, slipping into the well worn spaces they'd left behind in each other, like coming home to a bed that knows the shape and size of you, it's embrace waiting to shelter you from the world's monsters.
This. This is why it had been so difficult. Steve doesn't beat around the bush, and he doesn't let Shiro hide. Shiro's been in the limelight for so long, he's found ways to hide in it, even if he does hate it. But Steve knows the tricks of the trade and pulls back the curtain and Shiro feels naked and vulnerable and he hates that feeling. Maybe if he let himself get past the initial shock of it he'd see that Steve doesn't do it to put him in that position. But Shiro rarely gets past that first stage to even know what Steve would do after.
' If it's all just bullshit to you, fine. ' He gets up from the table, taking his half eaten plate of dinner with him. The walls slide back into place around him, an icy blockade because that's the best way he knows to be safe right now . . . If only he would really listen to Steve, to see where he was coming from . . . For Steve's part, he really didn't sugar coat anything and the bluntness makes Shiro's hackles rise instinctively, a defence mechanism.
He's already reached the counter, about to dump his plate into the sink when he pauses, back turned to Steve, shoulders hunched. This is exactly the kind of thing that had lead to their multiple failed attempts at a relationship. One of them would say something that hit a little too close to a truth they didn't want to accept. They'd fight. Then they'd bury the hatchet without really addressing the issue which meant come a week, or a month later, they were repeating the cycle all over again. He sighs, and turns to face Steve, fists both human and machine clenching and unclenching as he struggles to swallow down his pride.
It's like pulling teeth, getting this out. There are acrophobics who have thrown themselves off a cliff with less struggle than this. ' I don't . . . ' Grits his teeth, starts again. ' I'm not going this for glory or because I'm so conceited that I think the universe can't function without me. ' A bit snappy, but hey, it's a good start. At least he's communicating. ' But . . . I've made a mark on it and the jury's still out on whether it was for better or for worse. If I don't do something . . . if I don't do everything in my power to ensure I don't let down the people who are counting on me, then it definitely tilts the scales in worse's favour. ' Right about now is when he'd add something scathing to bring Steve down to his level of vulnerability, something harsh that he doesn't mean and will regret for days, months, years later. But if he's trying to live life with as few regrets as possible, then that has to extend to this part of his life as well. The one with Steve in it. So he bites down what he wants to say about Steve not understanding because he'd just abandoned his own world --- and looks down at his hands, taking in a shuddery breath. ' I hope you can understand that. '
