Chapter Text
Keith’s hands were barely long enough to hold both handles at the same time, and he was leaning too far to the right. Even with what little he weighed, it still made the delicately balanced machine lilt just enough to throw them off course. “You’re leaning again.” Shiro gently corrected.
Keith groaned and pumped the brakes. “S’No use. I’m too small.” He practically spat the words out as he clambered off the bike and slid to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees.
Shiro slid off too and sat beside him, mimicking Keith’s pose. He knocked their knees together. “You’ll be big enough in no time. If you learn good form now, it’ll make it easier later.” Shiro’s voice was calm and gentle. Keith was anything but.
“I’m sixteen,” He protested, burying his face into his knees. “I’m gonna be a shrimp forever.” His muffled, distraught voice made Shiro chuckle.
Shiro put his hand on the nape of Keith’s neck and squeezed lightly. “Look, some of us are just late bloomers. You have plenty of time.”
Keith scoffed in response. “Easy for you to say.” He grumbled.
Shiro left his hand on Keith’s back as he scrolled through his phone to find a picture. “Ok, I wouldn’t show this to just anyone. Can I trust you to keep this between us?” Shiro asked, holding the phone to his chest.
Keith didn’t say you’re the only person who talks to me, who am I gonna tell? Instead, he nodded. Shiro turned the phone around and held it out to Keith. “This was me just shy of 16.” His cheeks were dusted with a faint pink.
The picture was taken in front of some kind of shrine, Keith didn’t know what it was for. There was an older man and a very small, very chubby boy grinning together and holding up small strips of paper. “That was you?” Keith blurted out in disbelief.
Shiro laughed. “Yup. Me and Gramps.” His eyes took on faraway look. “We took a trip to his brother’s place in Japan and did a bunch of touristy stuff all summer after my first year at the Garrison.” Shiro scrolled through a few more pictures, smiling at the memories before his face dropped and his mouth twisted to the side a little. He kept scrolling until he found the one he wanted. “And that’s a year and a half later.” He turned the phone back to Keith.
Shiro was staring grimly at the camera in his awful orange and white cadet uniform, saluting. He’d grown almost a foot since the previous picture, the softness of his face almost gone, the doughy frame replaced with hard lines of muscle. “Wow, you really shot up.” Keith murmured.
Shiro turned and smiled at him. “I sure did. You will too, I guarantee it.” Keith shook his head.
There was no way Shiro could know that. Keith hated stupid platitudes from well-meaning people who had no idea what they were talking about, but when Shiro said it, for some reason, Keith believed it. He jumped to his feet and brushed himself off. “Ok, let’s try again.” He climbed back onto the bike and waited for Shiro to hop on.
The familiar warm weight settled in behind him and Keith blushed as Shiro’s big hands settled over top of his own much smaller ones. “Ok, you can do this, Keith. Remember,” Shiro adjusted their position slightly before Keith could start it up. “Patience yields focus.” He finished once he was happy with the way Keith was sitting.
Keith smiled as he kicked the bike into gear and took off into the desert, finally in a straight line.