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Shiro sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding like a drum. The sounds and images were still vivid in his mind—screaming, cackling, the bloodthirsty cheers of the crowd—so much so it took him a moment to realize he was sitting in the dark and quiet, the only sound his own harsh breathing.
His eyes gradually adjusted to the low light of the room, and he could pick out the end of the bed, the desk, and Keith's jacket hanging on the wall.
He wasn't back in the arena. He was still on the castle.
"Shiro?" Keith said, sounding far more awake than he should've.
Shiro wiped his hand over his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't." The bed creaked, and Keith sat up. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Shiro shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't even want to think about it. He wanted to shove all those memories back into a little box and set it on fire. He hated the nights like this: the ones where everything that had happened surged up like a wave to drag him under, the ones where their fight seemed impossible and unending. The nights where it seemed like he'd never be free of what the Galra had done to him.
"Do you want me to go?" Keith asked quietly.
The idea of being alone made him shudder. Right now, that would be the only thing worse than the nightmares: having nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company in the dark. "No. Stay."
Keith put his arm around Shiro's shoulders and gently pulled him in. Shiro went with the motion, sliding down the bed until he could rest his head on Keith's chest. He wrapped his arms around Keith, who trailed one hand up Shiro's left arm and buried the other in his hair.
It would never cease to amaze him how grounded he felt when Keith held him like this, when Shiro could just close his eyes and focus on the beat of Keith's heart and the sensation of fingers carding through his hair. It was a side of Keith only he got to see, and Shiro was strangely, selfishly glad of that.
"If you stayed in your own room, you'd actually be able to sleep through the night," Shiro said.
Keith snorted. "No, I wouldn't."
"You wouldn't be waking up every time I had a nightmare."
"Yes, I would."
"You shouldn't have to spend so much time taking care of me," Shiro whispered.
Keith squeezed his arm. "You take care of all of us. You take care of the entire coalition. Why can't I take care of you sometimes?"
Shiro didn't really have an answer for that, so he hugged Keith tighter.
Keith kissed his head. "I love you, Shiro."
The dark thoughts that plagued him constantly told him that he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve Keith's love, or kindness, or these soft moments in the dark where they could just hold each other.
But a larger part of him knew that didn't matter. He loved Keith deeply, and fiercely, and he would gladly spend every day of his life showing him that, so that Keith would never doubt for a minute how much he meant to Shiro.
He lifted Keith's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I love you, too. And...thank you, for this."
He couldn't see Keith's face, but he could feel his smile against his head. "Any time."