Keith peeks up just in time to catch that smile, and the embarrassment that he'd been determined not to feel creeps up on him. Damn it. But he still doesn't back off, stubborn as ever. Looks like we slept just fine. Shiro says. And the truth is, Keith is quite sure he's slept better than he probably should have, than he has in as far back as he can remember.

He hesitates at the question, before well, giving an answer that Shiro and his sense of humor ought to be proud of, "My side's great. So long as I don't move. Or breathe. Or stay still."

But fussing aside he adds. "It's not bad. I'm fine. What about you? How bad is the pain? You're breathing all right." The last part Keith knows because he's spent the night lulled to sleep by the sound of it. He's made no attempt to move either, to put any distance between them. Part of it is that he meant what he said. Moving hurts. But the majority is more due to how warm and comfortable he is. And the chance to actually keep Shiro in bed and resting is one that Keith doesn't think he can pass up.