[Keith closes his eyes and barely bites back -- more, a low hum stuck in his throat, hearing himself instead breathe out Shiro's name quietly like it'll be enough to hold back anything else, so much meaning still in it whenever he says it as it is. He has to focus or he knows he'll fall apart more and more in Shiro's arms if he doesn't hold himself together. Determined to do so, even while his mind seems to only want to memorize the sensation along his scar, even as his own hands also brush along the different shapes he can feel at Shiro's back, some jagged, violent and others smoother, almost clinical and chilling.
Not for a moment does Keith ever consider pulling away yet or letting go. It feels like too much and not enough at once - because in the back of his mind, even at a time like this, is still the distant reminder that he's ingrained in himself from the start: it'll never be like that, no matter how much you wish it were. There's no point of reference for him to see it in any other way. All Keith knows is that Shiro needs him right now and that matters more than anything else.]
[He finds his voice and it sounds hoarse and rough but no less honest:] You know, I'm... I'm proud as hell of you, Shiro. You've pulled through so much more than anyone ever should. I know it's hard to see that way. But I still am.
That's what I think when I look at you.
[I love you. I'm proud of who you are as much as you've always been of me.]