Archive of Our Own ^beta

Knock, knock, knock. 

Keith groaned and flipped over on the mattress of his single bed, glaring at the door for daring to have someone on the other side of it.  He didn’t want to see anybody, he just wanted to take a nap.  Being yelled at by teachers and fussed at for not turning in stupid homework took a toll on one, y’know.  But, the knocking persisted and Keith had to drag himself up just to stop the insistent noise.

When he flung open the door, there stood Shiro, ever smiling that weird I’m-Here-For-All-Students smile.  “So I here you got in another fight with an instructor, Keith?” he asked in a tone that most definitely did not match his smile. 

“Yeah, so?” Keith said nonchalantly, shrugging as he headed back to his comfortable bed. 

He could practically hear Shiro deflate, and it made him smirk.  “So, Mr. Hot Head, if you keep doing that kind of thing, you’re gonna get kicked out of the Garrison.”

“What’s it matter anyway?” Keith asked, flipping onto his back to face Shiro.  “S’not like anybody’ll care if I get kicked out anyway.”

“Hey, don’t say something like that!” Shiro fussed.  He looked over at Keith’s half-destroyed bookbag and sighed, lifting the bag off the swivel chair it rested in.  “Why don’t I help you with some of your homework, yeah?”

Keith sat up and shrugged, sitting criss-cross so Shiro could flop down beside him.  Shiro pulled out a notebook filled with scribbles and haphazard doodles, and he had to restrain himself from bursting out in laughter at some of Keith’s ideas and…opinions…of certain teachers.  “OK, where’re your homework assignments?”

“Uhh…there in my bag somewhere,” Keith said, grabbing his bookbag and rifling through the loose papers until he found something that looked vaguely like what had been on the board in math that morning.  “Here’s one I think,” he mumbled, handing it back to Shiro.

The two worked on logarithms for what felt like hours to Keith.  He’d do a problem, Shiro would check it, and if it were wrong Keith would redo it.  Once they finished the worksheet, Keith found the slot-notes another professor had handed out, so they filled in the slots Keith hadn’t bothered to do and then went over the pages once more. 

“C’mon, you have to have more,” Shiro laughed when Keith stuffed everything back in his bag in a hurry. 

“Don’t wanna do anymore,” Keith answered, dropping the bag back in its original home.  He flopped back down and slumped against the wall, not for the first time wondering why he always felt like he needed to hurry Shiro away after he realized Shiro was with him.  “’Sides, you probably got a lot of other stuff to do anyway.”

Shiro huffed and shook his head.  From where he sat, he could see Keith’s ever-growing hair splay across the white walls.  It clung with static to the plaster, making the boy look like a troll doll.  “When’s the last time you went to get your hair cut?” Shiro asked.  It may have been too prodding, but Keith rarely looked like he kept up his appearance at all.

Keith shrugged and chewed on the side of his thumb.  “My dad always cut my hair, haven’t let anybody else try,” he answered through his thumb. 

“Well, you’re getting pretty shaggy,” Shiro said in concern, “why not go downstairs and get a trim?”

Keith shook his head.  “Don’t trust them.”

Shiro sighed and dropped his head.  He was just trying to help the kid, and he was as stubborn as ever.  Well, there was one more thing he could try.  “Would you trust me, then?”

Keith paused and seemed to actually think it over, avoiding Shiro’s eyes.  When he came back to, he only had one question to ask: “You won’t cut it like yours, right?”

Shiro faked offense but promised to not cut that much off.  He went and got a pair of scissors and a towel before returning to Keith’s room.  Keith had moved to the swivel chair his bookbag sat on, sitting in a balled-up positing so that he just so slowly started to spin in the chair.  The sight made Shiro laugh, but he held the majority back.  Instead, he tossed the towel around Keith and clipped it in the back with a binder clip. 

Keith breathed in heavily when Shiro sectioned out his hair, which rested just at his jawline.  He had to wince when Shiro made the first cut, but the second cut was better.  And then the third was even better, and the fourth, and the fifth, and-

“You doing OK, Keith?” Shiro asked.  Keith nodded and squirmed where he sat.  “OK, lemme just even up the back, then I’ll do the front, alright?”

“Alright,” Keith mumbled.  He shivered when the cold scissors touched his neck, and his face flushed when Shiro laughed.  He couldn’t help it!  Those scissors were cold and didn’t belong anywhere near his neck!  Keith squeezed his eyes shut for the remainder of Shiro’s cutting.  It was odd to feel air against his ears, even odder to feel hair tickle the insides of his ears.  By the time he opened his eyes again, Shiro was brushing his hair out and he had just the most calm face Keith had ever seen. 

“All done, buddy,” Shiro announced, unpinning the towel from around Keith’s neck.  “Go take a look in the mirror.”

Keith nodded and took off for the bathroom.  He almost didn’t recognize his own reflection.  It was so short, yet…not really that short.  Especially his bangs.  He fluffed the locks ‘til they practically stood on end, scrunching up his face as hair tickled his nose. 

“How’s it look?” Shiro asked, nearly scaring Keith half to death. 

“It’s…um, great?” Keith said, holding up double thumbs-up. 

“Definitely better than that mullet-to-be you had going on,” Shiro teased, taking a step closer to run his hands through the hair once more.  He fixed Keith’s fluffing and fussed over one curl that refused to lay down.  Keith leaned in to the touch, shutting his eyes and letting Shiro do whatever to his hair.  Then, suddenly, the touch was gone and Keith had to fight back a whimper.  “Tell you what,” Shiro began.  “If you can keep up your grades and not get in fights with your teachers, I can keep doing this for you.”

“What about Kerberos?” Keith asked.  In just four short months, Shiro would be gone on a six-month trip to Pluto’s moon. 

“OK, if you’re extra super-duper good while I’m gone, I’ll even help you dye your hair if you want.”  Shiro knew that was something Keith liked, considering half the doodles in his notebook had characters with extremely colorful hair.

Keith grinned.  He could have bright red streaks in his hair if only to piss off Iverson.  “OK, you have a deal.”

Shiro smiled a genuine smile, peaking down at his shoes before looking back up at Keith.  “Get to bed, Rapunzel.”