There's rain outside the window. Matt watches Shiro watch it. Like some type of emo brooding train, Hello Darkness My Old Friend sings softly in the background of it all. The days of cloud and inclimate weather are so few and far inbetween that this is for all manner of purpose, a day of desert sunshine. The usually bright sky and empty canopy makes them feel like they're back on the Galra ship, where the lights were blinding, and they couldn't take a step without being watched. The sun feels like a stalker, and that thought makes him chuckle.

"I'm afraid to ask, but what's got you amused?"

It's not quite genuine, because the grin on his face says he's anticipating a Matt Holt Classic. Who is he to not deliver?

"Oh, just wondering if it's reasonible to get a restraining order on the sun, and where I'd file it."

"Space court." He doesn't miss a beat.

"You can't just- ok, fine. Well, how's the space boyfriend? He ready to have our space sleepover? Oh, speaking of, we gotta get some Supplies."

"I don't think Kolivan is gonna go for our usual snacks."

"Shiro. Blease. It's not a sleepover without trash food. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules."

"Except, you literally do. This is your house."

"Blease."

"Oh my- ok, fine, I'll allow it this once."

Yanking Shiro forward by the shirt, he leaves a kiss on his cheek.

"Matt, if you do that one more time-"

"I won't. Now come on, let's get you out of the sweatpants. And no whining ok? We are not leaving the house looking like this."

Matt was glad that Shiro would accept directions like that. He was an intelligent and patient man, that seemed to know Matt said it for as much his own benefit. Sometimes it was just helpful to have someone going through the same things. He kept motivated by motivating Shiro. He was sure that when Shiro healed a little more, he would provide the same for Matt. Until then, Matt could be enough for two.

The drive in to the town, where the large warehouse Doormart was located, was much more stressful than heading to the Garrison. Where the roads to the base were open, wide, and less-traveled, they were stuck at traffic lights, sandwiched between cars on the way to the store.

"Beep beep, it's green, motherfu-"

"Matt."

He held his hands up in surrender.

"Hands back on the wheel." Shiro grabbed on to the handle above the door.

"Sorry, sorry. And yes I'll watch my mouth, dad."

That earned him a incredulous sigh. Shiro was far more dramatic than people gave him credit for. You just had to know him long enough that he dropped the tight, leader persona. Matt was opposite in that way. The more you got to know Matt, the more likely you were to see that he was playing at being calm and goofy. Fake-it-till-you-make-it.

Yikes, his angst needed a vacation.

"Beep beep, motherfucker." He whispered under his breath.

"Matt!"

Had to get his fun where he could.

Matt won the game to not steer the cart. Well, ok. To be fair, it more went like, "Nose goes," and, naturally, he was the first to touch his nose. What, with being the prompter of the game. Poor Shiro could barely comprehend what had happened before the cart's handles were directed into his hands. To which the man just slumped forward, which was a sight, considering how broad his chest and shoulders were, and steered the cart along behind Matt with a pinched expression.

I can't imagine how tightly Keith has you wrapped around his (damned, stupid ass, adorable, loveable) little fingers, buddy, he thought, I'm nothing compared to that pretty face. RIP Shiro. Good knowing you.

"Shiro, no, listen. Blease."

"If you 'blease' me one more to-"

"No, c'mon. Listen ok, just. Ok. Look, look," he pointed at the label, "See? The Hint of Lime chips have milk. Milk is good for you. That's not nothing. And anyways, I'm sure he could use some good, 'ol vitamin D-"

"Matt, I swear to god."

"Dude, bun-in-the-oven. Don't play blushing virgin now. Bro, ok, focus. We're getting the sweet, sweet Hint of Lime chips. If you want the Hot Cheetos, that's your call."

They get load the cart up with each.

"Shiiiiiro-"

"No."

"Shi. Ro."

"Nope."

"Blea-"

"Matthew Holt, put it in the cart if it'll shut you up."

Enter one (1) kettle korn ("The 'k' is so heavy handed.", "No bro. Aesthetic.") into their cart.

"Do you think Keith is taking his vitamins?" Matt wants to gag at how /whistful/ Shiro sounds. It's too tender, much too tender for his ears. Save those moony eyes for the bedroom.

They do get a couple of yoghurts, a packet of blueberries, a sweet potato to roast, and some fancy chia seed drink for Keith. He's the first one to make fun of Shiro for doting, but he can't help but feel just as fiercly protective as Shiro does. Though there's a silent agreement that they can never let Keith know that.

"I'm gonna pop some tag-"
"Matthew, we are in a chain store, don't sing Thrift Shop. Please."

But Matt did only have $20 in his pocket. How was he supposed to hunt, now? To find come-ups?

They (Matt) stopped by the frozen foods and put in a pint of ice cream. He mused aloud when Keith would start wanting pickles to go with it. Shiro threatened to put back the Hint of Lime chips, and Matt shut his mouth. Their cart looked like they were teenagers packing for a roadtrip, complete with s'mores makings (they'd toast them over the oven) and bratwurst. Shiro had a small section of the cart with a few snacks for the week. He couldn't afford to keep eating from their café.

Heading up to the line, Matt unloaded their food for tonight, and chatted up the cashier as his items were rung up.

When it was Shiro's turn, he dug into his wallet for his benefits card. It was an older style card, before they had put chips into them, so the cashier would have to enter the numbers in manually. He told her as much, and she scoffed.

"Are you sure? Why don't you try it?"

Matt watched him take the card with a shakey hand and slid it through he reader. It beeped and the cashier told him to try again. After the next beep she huffed and snatched the card from Shiro's hand. She grumbled about freeloaders leeching off her parents' taxes. Matt figured she wasn't working there because she needed money. Shiro's face was pale and he could see nerves from his trembling hands to his taut shoulders.

The trip home was silent save for the radio. Matt had it on the local Christian station, if only because the other options didn't suit his tastes. At least the music was positive. From the side of his vision he could see staring down at his hands.

"It really isn't fair," he told Shiro as deposited the groceries on the kitchen counter, "We go to war, fight, lose a part of ourselves, in so many capacities, and we get back here to.. to this." He gestured at the air as if it somehow contained the "this". It was everything though. There would be too much to try and point out.

"What types of shows do you think Keith'll like?"

"Well. He's seen a few of our works. It's hard to say."

He paused in thought. They were about 10 minutes out from the shack.

"I wonder if he's seen anim-"
"Are you serious?"

The both busted out into obnoxious laughter.

"Never thought I'd actually meet aliens, much less get to have a movie night with one."

"Never thought I'd get a male pregnant."

"Wow man, life sure is weird."

He hummed his agreement as they pulled into the shack's dirt lot.

As they spoke with Kolivan, whom handed over a schedule or dietary list, as well as emergency contact numbers, Matt could imagine how much more protective they'd get of Keith as time went by. The thought of Keith, waddling up to the front door, the baby bump huge and making it hard for him to balance, made him sigh. He wasn't sure how he would handle things then. Keith would not take kindly to coddling.

But, thankfully, the Keih that met them had all the graceful movement and flat stomach of the Keith he met.

Matt thought, once more, life sure was weird.