Work Text:
Shiro is just putting on the last touches to his breakfast omelette when he hears the front screen door slam shut. It startles him enough that he almost loses his hold on the hot pan, but even in the early morning his quick reflexes have yet to let him down.
Keith, on the other hand, looks worse for wear as he stumbles through and slumps down into the nearest seat by the kitchenette, barely giving Shiro a grunt in acknowledgement. He doesn’t bother removing his dusty boots even though he knows Shiro will give him crap for it later. The sun has barely begun to rise over the hills, but he just wants to forget the last few hours.
“Hey, baby. You’re back early—” Shiro’s voice trails off as he glances over and does a double take, actually getting a good look at his husband. His work hat is missing, dropped somewhere in the dirt drive outside, his hair and shirt a disheveled mess, but what really knocks him isn’t the dirt stains on his skin and clothes—he’s used to that by now—but the blood-soaked bandage sitting covering half the right side of his face. He really must be doing a bad job hiding the shock from his face because Keith is already wide-eyed with his hands up, ready to soothe his frozen husband.
“It looks worse than it is.” He tries, watching as Shiro shakes his head, confused.
“Keith, you—You’re bleeding. What happened??” All it takes is for Keith to trace his fingers along the bottom edge of the bandage and stare at the faint red bloodstains left behind on his fingers for Shiro to break out of his own shock and immediately move to grab the emergency kit from their cupboards, gently prying the soiled bandage from his face to clean and re-bandage his wound with ointment and fresh gauze.
Keith was right in that it did look a little worse than it was, but even so, any stitch on his face was one stitch too many and he had three. Shiro fights off the snivel he desperately wants to release and swallows deeply when Keith hisses at the press of disinfectant. He doesn’t want him to clam up even more than he already has. Instead he locks his jaw and tests just how much attention Keith will allow him, both knowing fully well Shiro needs it just as much.
He pulls up a chair beside Keith and grabs his hands, rubbing soothing circles over the angry marks he finds on his palms. Keith either can’t or won’t make eye contact, but he finally deflates and drops his head to Shiro’s shoulder when his husband brings his palms to his lips and kisses the angry marks. Keith breathes heavy, grounding himself with Shiro’s heady scent as Shiro runs his fingers through Keith’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp. Shiro doesn’t press; knows Keith will open up in his own time.
It’s something Keith is infinitely grateful for.
It’s also something he knows he needs to tell Shiro to make their marriage work.
“The protestors caught wind of our roundup.” he finally mutters, as if embarrassed.
Shiro doesn’t miss the hint of derision in his voice when he mentions the protestors, but he knows better than to ask in this moment.
“Normally they’re easy to ignore, especially when we have Kolivan and Antok with us, but…” Keith’s voice trails off as he locks his gaze on the floral wallpaper in the kitchen as if it were teasing him with the secrets to the universe.
“Keith?” Shiro nudges gently so as not to spook him.
Keith lifts his head and looks up at the ceiling, thunking his head gently back against the wall before closing his eyes to call back on the memory.
“There was a downed cow.” He says, clenching his eyes. “Coran suspected gas or milk fever, but she went down on the road and no one wanted to take a chance, so I got the tractor to move her but these people… They—they just stood in the way. Like a damn chain.”
Shiro doesn’t miss the way Keith’s fists ball up, or how his shoulders tense the more he relives that morning. He places his hand at the nape of Keith’s neck and massages lightly, trying to work away the tension. It seems to work when Keith finally huffs and moves away from the wall, beginning to look more worked up than worn out like minutes before.
“Dad and Antok got them to move but as soon as I got through, they started throwing shit at us. One of them had a rock but by the time I saw it, it was too late.”
“Oh, Keith…”
“It wasn’t too serious,” he interrupts, “But Coran and Dad decided to cancel everything except the cattle checkups and sent me to Papa to be stitched up.”
“Did you press charges?”
Keith sighs, almost disappointed. “No. It’s not worth it. They just get louder the more the cops get involved. I just want to forget today ever happened.”
Shiro kisses and noses at Keith’s temple, helping calm him down.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
He grabs Keith’s legs and gently pulls his boots from his feet, rubbing his soles lightly before setting them back down once he’s satisfied Keith’s mood has relaxed a degree.
“I have a bit of a surprise for you upstairs.” he says, brightening as he pulls Keith back to his feet.
“If it’s not a warm bath, I really don’t care.”
“That’ll come after.” he teases, tugging a half-reluctant Keith along. “You smell like cow pie.”
“Ha-ha.”
He covers Keith’s eyes, mindful of the clean bandage, and pulls him into one of the guest rooms, slowly uncovering them when they’re fully inside.
“Shiro, what—?”
Keith pauses as he looks around the room, covered in greens, yellows, and purples. The beginning rays of daylight brighten the tiny ducklings wrapped around the walls and pieces of furniture settled in different corners of the room as his eyes land on the wooden rocking chair sitting beside a bassinet he remembers declaring a lost cause not even a week ago. There’s already a plush lion and hippo resting comfortably on the cushion waiting for the arrival of their new owner.
“You finished the nursery…” he breathes, his vision becoming misty.
Shiro wraps his arms behind Keith’s waist and rests his chin on his shoulder.
“All it really needed was that bit of me and you. Everything else was extra”
“I’m pretty sure the changing table was necessary.”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
Keith hums and leans back into his husband, wiping his eyes. “Thank you.”
Shiro kisses his neck and hums back, finally feeling the tension melt off his husband before leading him to the bath.