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Keith pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool, breezy air of the early evening. The sun was still setting in the distance, peeking across the horizon in a million shades of yellow, orange and red. This was his favourite time of day, for many reasons, but none more so than because it was the time he got to see Shiro. Properly. Not a glance in the corridor, a friendly pat on the shoulder after training, a flash of conversation between classes. No, this was their time.
Shiro was waiting there already, but hadn’t noticed that Keith had stepped out onto the rooftop. He seated with one leg outstretched, the other pulled up, his hands around his knee. The little wind ruffled through the tufts of hair at the front of his head, brushing it down towards his brows. With a casual flick of his hand, he pushed it back into place, only to have it dishevelled a moment later. Keith smiled. There was something so comforting about that repeated action.
“Hey,” Keith said as he approached.
Shiro’s head turned sharply, his face tense for a single second as he got over his initial surprise. But then his features softened, mouth curling into a fond smile. His eyes caught the light of the fading sun and his brown pupils burst into a kaleidoscope of precious metals: liquid gold melting into copper. Keith never felt richer than when he saw those eyes.
“We need to get you a bell,” Shiro joked, watching as the younger boy sat down beside him, cross-legged.
Keith said nothing, only smiled.
“How was your simulator training?”
“Intense. But I managed. The instructor isn’t all that helpful – I don’t think he likes me.”
Shiro put an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Who couldn’t like you?”
Keith laughed and shook his head. “Not many people are so patient with me. Or me with them.”
While Keith lifted his head to meet the other young man’s gaze, Shiro looked away. Towards the horizon. Keith felt his chest tense.
“Shiro?”
“I’ve been chosen for the Kerberos mission.”
“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? You’ve been working hard for it, Shiro.”
“Yeah, but— ” Shiro glanced back at him. He moved his other hand across and gently caressed his fingers over Keith’s. “I’ll be away quite some time. I know you’re okay being on your own, but…”
Keith stopped him with a hand to Shiro’s cheek. The skin beneath his palm was warm from the sun that painted itself over his face, making every detail brighter, clearer, enhanced. He could see – and feel – the tiniest hairs across his jaw, those that had appeared since his last shave. Shiro didn’t look scruffy, though. He never did.
“But nothing,” Keith finished for him. “I’m going to be fine, and you know that.”
Shiro looked at him; his smile was ever so slight, yet so full of adoration. He dipped his head and touched his nose against Keith’s, lips an inch apart. These moments on the rooftop were the only times in which they could be intimate like this. Anywhere else at the Garrison, they would be seen. Keith never wanted Shiro to get in trouble, or vice-versa. Romantic relationships were banned among the recruits.
Their lips met for a moment, soft and warm. Keith’s arms snaked around Shiro’s neck and he shifted into the older boy’s lap. Shiro held him in place, keeping him secure. Protected.
“I’ll think about you every day,” he murmured into Keith’s ear.
“You’re such a sap.”
It was hard for Keith to accept that kind of romance, even from Shiro. How could it be real? What could he have possibly done in his life to deserve that kind of devotion? There had been so much resistance inside of him that it had been hard enough for them to even get to this point. If a younger Keith, fresh in the Garrison, had been told that he would have this kind of relationship, he likely would have given the person who relayed the message a slap. Shiro had helped him to mellow somewhat, but Keith maintained much of that anger and frustration bottled up inside of him. Nowadays, it manifested less in physical aggression, but more as a habit of pushing others away. It had been months before he’d even begun to let Shiro in.
Now Shiro was going to be gone. And Keith was terrified of closing up again. Things might never be the same.
-
The sun had set now and a blaze of stars patterned the sky above them. Keith followed the invisible lines between them, making shapes. He had no idea if these were real constellations, or just ones he had imagined in his own head. He started to think it was the latter, as he doubted there was a star sign that used the symbol of a spaceship.
“They’ll be calling for lights out soon,” Shiro said, stretching out his legs. They had been lying like this for what felt like hours. Keith was rather stiff himself, but didn’t want to get up.
“Hmm…”
“Go on.” Shiro kissed him, first on the lips, then each cheek and the tip of his nose. “You go first. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Keith stood, straightened out his uniform, and ran his fingers through his hair to brush it back into place. It never stayed the way he wanted to, so the gesture was pointless, but it gave him a small feeling of control.
“See you tomorrow.”
Keith headed towards the door. As he reached out for the handle, Shiro said his name. He turned to look back at him. Shiro’s face was lit up by the light of the moon, his eyes sparkling with stars.
“Keith, I love you.”
Keith gripped the door handle. Breath caught in his throat, like he was drowning in it. He could feel his pulse in his whole body, right down to his toes. He’d rehearsed this before in his head. And it had seemed easier then. He could just say it, right? He felt it, so why couldn’t he tell Shiro that?
“Yeah,” he said at last. He couldn’t look the other young man in the eyes.
Then he was through the door, down the steps, in his dormitory – it was still empty. Regret coursed through him, making hot tears well at the corners of his eyes. Frustrated, he brushed them away with the backs of his hands. Just as he did, the other boys came in, chattering. Nobody looked at Keith. It was like he was invisible. And that was just fine with him.
When they were in their pyjamas and the lights were off and he could hear the gentle snores coming from the beds around him, Keith let his tears fall silently into the dark. Why couldn’t he just say it?
-
They didn’t mention it. In fact, they were apart more and more as Shiro’s preparations for the Kerberos mission intensified. Keith pulled his attentions towards his own flight training, in which he was excelling far beyond the level of the rest of his classmates. He wished he could care about that.
They met on the rooftop the night before Shiro left for the faraway moon. Very little was said. It was all about touch. Keith didn’t want to forget how Shiro’s hand felt in his own, how the hair on his forehead flicked upwards, his scent, the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling as he inhaled the cold night air. And, most of all, he didn’t want Shiro to forget anything about him either.
He wanted to say don’t go .
He wanted to say I’ll miss you .
He wanted to say I love you .
But all he said was: “Come back soon.”
“For you, I promise.”
-
“The Galaxy Garrison mission to the distant moon of Kerberos is missing, and all crew members are believed to be dead. The Galaxy Garrison has said the crash was presumably caused by pilot error. It is, indeed, a sad day for all humanity.”
His whole body seemed to tremble. There was no air. He was not drowning; he was suffocating.
Shiro. Gone.
Dead.
Keith’s eyes burned as he looked at the screen.
Shiro looked so handsome in his Garrison photo. Why hadn’t Keith told him that before? Why hadn’t he told Shiro that he was handsome every single day?
He saw Shiro bleeding out, or maybe freezing in the abyss of space. Clutching onto his life, desperately clinging, grasping… Letting go. Having never heard that Keith loved him.
-
There were too many memories. Shiro’s framed picture on the wall, a collection of flowers and candles and little teddy bears beneath it. Keith wanted to knock over one of those candles, set the flowers and the teddies alight and let the whole Garrison burn to the ground. If it weren’t for this place, Shiro wouldn’t be dead. If it weren’t for the both of them being there, Keith would never have had to feel like this.
It was the dead of night. The stars were no longer shining. Perhaps they were, but Keith couldn’t see them. He slipped out of the Garrison, his lightly packed bag thumping slightly against his back as he ran. To where? He didn’t know. He just ran towards the horizon, in a straight line. As far away from all these bad memories as he could.
There was nothing for him there now.