Chapter Text
Three days later, Shiro had yet to hear from Matt. Neither had gone to classes, still healing from the injuries they sustained from Quinn and his grunts. Shiro had sent a dozen texts to Matt with no response, and his few attempts at calling had sent him straight to voicemail. The cold shoulder left Shiro drowning in ice, his heart and gut frozen to the point that he could barely get up in the morning or eat more than a small snack. He was devoid of the light Matt had brought into his life, one that Quinn may have stolen away permanently with a few stinging words.
Unable to stomach the loneliness any longer, Shiro found himself at the door of the Holt household with one fist raised to knock on the door. He hesitated, knowing whatever happened when that door opened would be the ultimatum for their friendship. Either there was a chance for them to talk, or Matt didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.
Before Shiro could knock, the door opened. On the other side was Colleen Holt, dark circles under her weary eyes. Her lips curved into a small, sad smile when she met Shiro’s gaze and took in the fading bruises that weren’t covered by his long-sleeved shirt, gloves, jeans, or shoes.
“Hello, ma’am,” Shiro greeted quietly. He tried to smile politely, but all he could manage was a broken imitation.
“Shiro, it’s nice to see you,” she stated genuinely.
The two stood in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Colleen was a kind woman who Shiro had spoken to a few times, but it was usually Sam who talked to him. They were far more familiar with each other, though Sam was currently at the university teaching Shiro’s aviation class with Instructor Con.
Colleen closed her eyes for a moment, then stepped back and opened the door wider to invite Shiro in. He accepted, hesitantly stepping inside just far enough that Colleen could close the door and keep out the chilly air and dusting of snow outside.
“Is, uh, is Matt here?” Shiro asked, his gaze sinking to the floor. The house was silent with Sam at work and Pidge at school, so it was hard to tell if Matt was present. No sounds of tinkering or dropped tools echoed through the house.
Colleen nodded. She was silent for a moment, then she looked up at Shiro with an expression that seemed to age her twenty years all at once. She looked worn and exhausted, eaten by worry and stress. “He isn’t…himself. He hasn’t eaten since Sam brought him home Tuesday, and he won’t leave his room,” she admitted, her voice low and quiet. “He’s been through a lot and has had, eh, episodes before, but this time it’s different.” Colleen glanced in the direction of her son’s room, then back at Shiro. “We heard about Quinn, what he said. It scared Matt, more than any of us know. He finally got away from those who hurt him for who he is, and he hasn’t said a word about it to anyone since, but….” Her voice trailed off.
“He’s been ignoring my messages,” Shiro said. “I understand if he’s worried about what I think of him, but no matter how many times I told him it was okay, he would never respond. I’m not sure he’s even read them.”
Colleen nodded, then stepped aside and gestured toward Matt’s room. “He’s afraid, but he misses you, Shiro. I’ve never seen him trust someone the way he trusts you or light up whenever he’s planning to meet with you. You’re his friend, and no amount of fear will make him give up on you completely,” she promised. “Go see him. Even if he won’t talk, I know it’ll make him feel better just having you there.”
Shiro nodded slowly, then slipped off his shoes and headed for Matt’s room. He paused outside of it, knocked, then slowly pushed the door open when he got no response.
Matt was on the floor in his room, surrounded by machine parts per usual. However, he seemed to stare at the parts more than he tried to use them. His eyes looked hazy and he moved slowly like he was in a trance. He didn’t look up as Shiro stepped in, closed the door, and sat down on the floor across from him.
Neither spoke for a minute, deciding instead to simply sit in silence. The atmosphere tense, but Matt was clearly more so. The long pause seemed to make him relax some, though it was only just slightly.
After a moment, Shiro reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box covered in gift wrap. He leaned forward and set it between him and Matt, then looked at his friend, who had completely paused in his tinkering.
“A little while ago I asked your dad about what day your birthday is. He told me December first, so, uh, happy birthday,” Shiro said, glancing down at the box before looking back at Matt.
Matt froze, finally looking up at Shiro. He said nothing, his eyes wary and confused as he slowly set down his things before hesitantly reaching for the box. He glanced from the box to Shiro, who smiled and nodded, before carefully pulling the gift wrap off the box. He paused before he opened it, glancing at Shiro once again. The younger man’s caution made Shiro’s heart clench.
Matt opened the box and stared, then carefully pulled out a silver ring. He examined it for a moment before he noticed the inside of the band, which had been painted as a rainbow. This made Matt’s head jerk up as he looked at Shiro in a mix of shock and confusion.
“My brother recommended it. His friends gave him a similar one for his birthday after he came out to them, except the interior and exterior were reversed since he didn’t care about whether or not strangers knew he wasn’t straight,” Shiro explained.
“Your brother?” Matt asked hesitantly. It was the first time Matt had spoken to Shiro since they fought Quinn, and his familiar voice made Shiro’s heart flush with warmth.
Shiro nodded. “Yeah. He kind of has a thing for his friend Lance, not that he’ll admit it. He was never good at pretending to be straight, but he never really needed to anyway.” Shiro’s face softened. “I know you needed to hide who you are before, but I want you to know there’s no problem with being gay, not in my mind. You’re my friend, Matt, and nothing will change that.”
Matt was silent for a moment, glancing at the floor. He didn’t look totally convinced. “Aren’t you worried I’ll like you?” he asked.
Shiro shook his head. “Just because a guy is gay doesn’t mean he’s attracted to every man on the planet,” he said. “I’m not some asshole guy who thinks he’s hot enough shit that everyone is attracted to him but thinks it’s gross when other guys like them. Besides,” Shiro paused. He grinned, then tapped one of his canines. It was flat on the tip instead of pointed. “In high school, my tooth got chipped when my boyfriend at the time slammed the breaks on his car because a squirrel ran out in front of us. I was talking, so when he hit the breaks my teeth slammed together and that one broke.”
Matt blinked like his brain had short-circuited, clearly confused with the new information.
“I’m pansexual, Matt,” Shiro said, filling in the blank with a slight smile on his face. “I like guys, too.” He raised his eyebrows at Matt. “If you’re going to think something’s wrong with you, then I guess something’s wrong with me, too.”
Matt looked down at the ring in his hands and shook his head vigorously, then his lips curled up and a huff of laughter escaped his lips. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m… sorry. I should’ve known you weren’t an asshole like Quinn.”
It was Shiro’s turn to shake his head. “Hey,” he said, leaning forward so he could rest his elbow on his knee and prop his chin on his palm. “I understand why you were worried. People treated you like shit for being gay, and I can’t blame you for being careful. Especially with how bad it’s gotten.”
Matt looked up, totally meeting Shiro’s gaze for the first time in three days. The two were finally able to see the damage that had been done to them, the bruises, cuts, and split lips.
Matt’s eyes went downcast as he looked at the bruises on Shiro. A black eye, cheeks a mottled purple, a dark shoe print on his temple, a thick band of bruising around his throat. More yellows and purples disappearing under his collar. Matt himself wasn’t any better off with the split in his lip, cut through his eyebrow, and purple splotches painted on his face and up and down his neck and arms.
“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” Matt mumbled. He rubbed at his bruised knuckles instead of looking back up at Shiro and his injuries.
Shiro didn’t have time to think as his body took control from his mind before it could come up with something else to say. The next thing he knew, he was leaning across the gap between them and had his arms wrapped around Matt’s smaller frame. He was gentle, careful to not disturb Matt’s injuries, but his hold was firm enough to make Matt relax after the tension from surprise seeped from his body.
“I’d do it again if I needed to,” Shiro admitted. “Whatever happens, don’t be afraid to call me. I’ll be there, whether we’re fighting assholes or dealing with some bullshit from the school.”
It took a moment for Matt to fully relax, then his arms found their way around Shiro’s back and his hands grabbed Shiro’s shirt in an iron grip. They stayed there, not moving, not leaving. They were comfortable, and despite their bruises neither felt unsafe. Even Shiro didn’t tense or pull away even though his metal arm and Matt were separated only by his shirt and jacket.
“What was his name?” Matt whispered. “Your boyfriend?”
“Adam.”
“Why’d you break up?”
“We got into a fight about our career plans after graduation.”
“Did you ever talk again?”
Shiro took a moment before he responded. “He died in a car accident before we could swallow our pride.”
“Oh,” Matt said. “Do you regret it?”
“Dating him? Never. Letting us part on bad terms? Every day.”
They silenced for a moment.
“What was it like?” Matt questioned.
Shiro sighed. “We weren’t super open about it since a lot of people around us didn’t approve, but it was perfect. We were happy.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It was.”
Neither spoke again, content without words. In their moment of peace, neither of the young men noticed Colleen Holt outside the door. She had meant to leave them alone, but she overheard them as she silently carried clean towels from the laundry room to the bathroom. Through the crack in the door she saw her son and his friend wrapped in each other’s arms, and all her worries disappeared. For the first time, there was someone she could entrust her son to with the knowledge that he would never be hurt by them.
-000-
Monday morning on the fourth of December, Matt and Shiro returned to their classes. Shiro found himself hesitating in front of his mirror as he brushed his teeth, wincing at the bruises that had yet to fade. The ones around his neck had lightened, though while it took a certain amount of focus to see them, they were still visible. His face didn’t look much better than it had when he got home after the fight, still purple and mottled. A dark ring remained stained around one of his eyes and the print on his temple was still vivid.
As someone who frequently brought uninvited attention to himself and intimidation to others, Shiro felt sick at the thought of others seeing the bruises that marred him. What if they thought he had gotten into a bad crowd, or some dirty business? Did he really want to solidify the beliefs of the people around him that didn’t so much as attempt to get to know who he really was? It wasn’t so much their opinions that bothered him, as he knew better than to let the opinions of strangers control him directly. Instead he was worried about the stares, the whispers, and the icy feeling of dread he felt nearly every waking moment of his day in public.
For a moment, Shiro contemplated skipping classes. His instructors had been informed about what happened, and he knew Sam was happy to help him catch up in his aviation course. He could easily miss a few more days while the bruises healed and disappeared. He couldn’t, though. He rarely missed classes, and anyone who paid enough attention to notice his existence would see that he’d already missed three days in a row. Missing more would only draw extra attention and more questions when he got back. Skipping would also be bothersome to Sam, who had worried over Shiro for days after the fight. The last thing Shiro wanted to do was make Sam worry that he had been hurt worse than initially thought.
Worst of all consequences was Matt, who already felt bad about Shiro’s injuries. Following the three-day period of silence, after Shiro went to the Holt household so they could talk, Matt had sent Shiro a number of texts apologizing for dragging him into the mess with Quinn, for getting him hurt, for making him miss class, for ignoring him, for worrying him, for every single thing he could think of. If Shiro stayed in his dorm, regardless of whether he told Matt the reason or not, Matt would be back to apologizing again. Shiro was done with Matt’s apologies. He didn’t want his friend to think worse of himself than he already did for something out of his control.
With a heavy sigh, Shiro gathered his things and left for class. He pulled his hood up as he made the cold, snowy trek across campus. The frigid wind bit his cheeks and nose even with his hood up and head down. Ideally, he would have worn his scarf, but it had been lost in the fight days ago.
Shiro entered his aviation class silently. He kept his eyes locked on his seat to avoid any stares his classmates may have been sending him as they took in his appearance. His hood was down, and he could feel the eyes of others burning his skin as they glanced and stared. It made him want to squirm, but he fought with every fiber of his being to stay still.
As more students entered the room and more of them took notice of Shiro’s poor condition, the tension in his body became unbearable. He was one twitch away from walking out of the room and not coming back until the following day when his saving grace appeared in the form of Sam Holt.
The older man smiled when he saw Shiro and beelined across the room to greet him.
“It’s nice to have you back,” Sam said, earning a nod from Shiro.
“It’s nice to be back. I was getting bored,” Shiro replied with a casual wave of his hand. Neither spoke of the incident from days before, instead discussing points from the previous days Shiro had missed. They found that Shiro was well-acquainted with the subject per usual and was knowledgeable enough to keep up with the rest of the class without any explanations.
During Sam’s interference, Shiro’s classmates looked away, allowing him to make it through class without anyone looking at him. A heavy sigh of relief escaped him before he realized he still had to go to English and his mechanics class that day and do it all over again. There, he had no one to casually converse with before the professors arrived and the class started. He started to lose hope that he’d make it through the day when a familiar face greeted him just outside the door of his aviation class.
“Hey,” Matt said, a smile on his face. His hair was not pulled back into a ponytail this time even though he’d taken a liking to the style. Instead his hair hung at his shoulders, and Shiro caught a glimpse of the bruises it was hiding when Matt’s head moved.
“Hey,” Shiro responded. His gaze dropped to a glint at Matt’s side where the ring Shiro had given him was settled on his right index finger. The silver outside of the band shone dully in the hallway lights.
Matt followed Shiro’s gaze to his finger, and he lifted his hand to tug the ring off. He flipped it over in his hand, looking at the way the silver turned to rainbow on the inside.
“Thanks, again. For the ring,” Matt said quietly. The smile on his face contained a sort of contentedness that Shiro hadn’t seen on him since they met.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah.”
The two silenced for a moment as Matt slid the ring back on, wincing when it passed over his bruised knuckles.
Shiro sighed. “Hey, uh,” he began. He felt Matt’s gaze land on his face, and he couldn’t help but let his own slide to the floor. “I didn’t really get the chance to say it before, but… I’m, uh, I’m sorry about what happened with Quinn,” Shiro stated awkwardly.
“Why?” Matt’s tone was pure confusion. Likely, his face was too, but Shiro couldn’t bring himself to look up.
“Well…” Shiro rubbed at his face. “I told you I’d help you and make sure Quinn didn’t hurt you, but…” He finally looked up, eyes dragging over the fading bruises on Matt’s skin. “I didn’t do a very good job of that.”
Matt paused for a moment, face unreadable as he looked at Shiro before shocking him by rolling his eyes so hard that his irises seemed to disappear completely for a moment. “Shiro.” His voice was a mix of exasperation and annoyance. “Literally the only reason Quinn didn’t kill me is because you were there helping me out. You taught me well, but I’m still not that good when it comes to fighting people. I could never have taken on Quinn and his crew by myself and gotten out alive. You were there, you saw me struggling during that fight, and you saved my ass more times than I can count even when it got you hurt!”
Shiro didn’t look convinced. “Still, you got hurt pretty bad even though I said I’d watch out for you-“
Matt grabbed Shiro’s shoulders and shook them with each word he spoke.
“Its. Not. Your. Fault.”
The two were close, enough so that Shiro could see how Matt had gotten taller yet again. The younger man was growing like a weed, the top of his head level with Shiro’s nose.
Matt seemed oblivious to their shrinking height difference, his gaze on Shiro’s black eye that had yet to fade. He narrowed his eyes at it, thinking, then slowly lowered his gaze as guilt leaked onto his face.
“If anyone needs to apologize,” Matt began, “it’s me. You’re my friend, not my body guard, but I dragged you into this. I got you hurt. Quinn never would have bothered you otherwise, but because of me…” His fingers rose to the dark bruise around Shiro’s eye, and he winced when Shiro flinched away from the contact. “If it’s still not healing, you should get that checked out.”
Shiro stepped back, one hand rising to lightly touch his eye as if that was what drove him back, and not how close Matt had gotten to touching the mess that was his right arm. “It’s fine,” he said. It was true that the med working as a student security guard had given him the okay to go straight back to his dorm after the fight, but it wasn’t like he’d kept her updated on his injuries and how his eye seemed to be healing far slower than any injury of his ever had before. Then again, it had been years since the last time he was so bruised.
Matt looked troubled, but he didn’t fight. “Just keep an eye on it, please.”
Shiro deadpanned. “My eye is on it.” He pointed at the bruised eye itself.
Matt simply stared, then dropped his head heavily into one of his hands with an exhausted expression. “If you didn’t look like you go hit by a train already, I’d shove you out the window,” he groaned.
Shiro let out an amused huff.
Matt scrubbed at his face. “Anyway, remember none of this is your fault. You did more than you needed to do for me already.”
Shiro didn’t nod, simply standing where he was until Matt shook his head and turned.
“You’ve got another class, right? Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
-000-
With Shiro leading the way, the two began their trek to Shiro’s English class. Neither spoke at first, not wanting to continue their last conversation. Quinn was done for. He was in the past. They needed to stop dwelling on him and what happened.
“Uh.”
It was Matt who broke the silence. His eyes were on the ground, his shoulders hunched. He rubbed at the back of his neck and chewed his lip as inner turmoil rumbled in his veins before he finally spoke.
“Um, I was just, uh, wondering… Your old, uh, boyfriend, uh, Adam? How did you guys, uh, meet?”
Matt stumbled over his words as the tips of his ears turned red. The question felt invasive to him, and he worried Shiro might find it too personal.
“Hm.” Shiro looked over at Matt, noticing his red ears and stiff shoulders. He frowned but said nothing about it. “It was in middle school, I think. We lived on the same road, so we ran into each other at the bus stop every day.”
“Oh, uh, when did you guys, uh-“ Matt paused.
“Start going out?” Shiro finished for him, getting a nod from Matt. “The summer between our first and second year of high school.”
Matt frowned, curiosity in his eyes like he wanted to know more, but he hesitated.
“I’m not going to get mad and strangle you to death just because you asked a question about my ex,” Shiro said.
“Yeah, sorry, I just… I’ve never met another guy who, you know, uh, went out with a, uh, another guy, but I don’t want to, eh, invade on anything.” Matt could barely speak.
Shiro surprised himself when he reached out and set a reassuring hand on Matt’s back. “I don’t mind talking about it. If you ask a question I don’t want to answer, I just won’t,” he offered.
Matt stiffened when Shiro’s hand touched his back, then he slowly relaxed. He still didn’t look over at Shiro, but he resumed speaking with less hesitation and stumbling.
“How long were you, uh, together?”
“Three years. We had our fight just after graduation.”
“Did anyone know about you?”
“Our parents, my brother. No one at school really knew. A lot of the people I hung out with weren’t super homophobic, but they definitely didn’t want to hang around a guy who likes other guys.”
“So, you had to hide it?”
“Kind of? It wasn’t like we wouldn’t talk to each other at school or anything. It was more like people just thought we were close friends.”
“Was there anyone who knew and was bothered by it?”
Shiro shrugged. “Our parents were okay with it, and it’s not like Keith was going to be bothered by it.” He paused, then sighed. “Actually, there was an old couple on our road who saw us together and always yelled at us. One time, Keith heard them screaming about how we were going to hell, so he snuck outside with a screwdriver one night and disassembled part of the fence around their garden so animals could get inside and eat it,” he explained. “They blamed Adam and I, but we knew we didn’t do anything, and they couldn’t prove it. I found the screwdriver in Keith’s room, but I never said anything to anyone.”
Matt snorted. “You brother seems to like getting into trouble with screwdrivers.”
Shiro nodded.
Matt looked like his curiosity was far from gone, but they had reached Shiro’s next class.
“I’ll text you later,” Shiro promised, slipping his phone from his pocket to check the time. He had three minutes.
Matt nodded. “Thanks for uh, telling me about you and Adam.” He gave Shiro a wave, then jogged off.
Shiro watched Matt go, then headed into his class. He took his seat, the contentedness in his expression draining away as his thoughts remained on Adam. He missed him. No matter how much time passed, Shiro didn’t stop regretting the fight, and leaving Adam on such a sour note just before his death. That was probably his greatest regret, besides that day he had led his team to their deaths while in the military. After all, Adam had been right. The military was dangerous. Shiro had felt the worst it could give. Adam had told him what would happen, and he didn’t listen. Then the world decided to teach Shiro a lesson he’d never forget - not just once, but twice.
Shiro was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the stares from his classmates as their gazes raked over his bruises and their whispered flitted through the air.