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“Hey, Keith. Wait up!”
The Red Paladin stopped and turned as Shiro hurried up to him.
“I’ve got something to ask you.”
“Something more important than Hunk’s home-cooked meals?” Keith cocked his head. “I thought you said you were starving after that last mission.”
Shiro ran a hand along the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I am. But I kind of thought that maybe we could... go elsewhere for dinner?”
That got Keith’s attention and he faced Shiro fully. Behind him, the footsteps of the other paladins faded away as they headed to the kitchen for a well-deserved meal. The Castle itself was currently on the far side of nowhere, as Pidge had oversimplistically explained, specifically to keep it hidden from Galra eyes while the team could plot out their next moves. So for Shiro to suggest that there was somewhere else to go...
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Shiro said. His smile was hopeful. “I’ve been planning this for a while so I hope it’s okay with you?”
Keith gave a careful shrug and kept his face neutral, even though a grin was threatening to break through. “I dunno. The words ‘Shiro’ and ‘making dinner’ in the same sentence makes me nervous.”
“No need to worry! I got Hunk to do all the cooking.”
“That makes me feel better,” Keith relented. He held out his hand, which the Black Paladin eagerly took. “Lead the way, captain.”
What Keith wasn’t expecting was for Shiro to lead them all the way to the door of his bedroom, then leave Keith standing outside with a smile and a “I’ll be just a tick.” Then the door closed behind him and Keith was left wondering exactly what was going on.
It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been trying to keep a professional relationship with the other man. Fly their lions, form Voltron, fight the Empire. Nice and simple and no need for emotions to get involved.
Except... emotions had gotten involved. Keith didn’t remember exactly how it had happened -- the moment too shrouded in euphoria and joyful tears -- but it had finally burst out of him and he’d told Shiro how much he mattered. How much Keith cared. And more than that, enough for Keith’s head to spin even days afterward, Shiro had said the same thing back.
I like you a lot. I’d like to take you out some time, get to know you.
You say that like you haven’t known me for years.
This is personal. I don’t want to know cadet Keith, or paladin Keith, I just want to get to know Keith, plain and simple.
I’m pretty boring at heart.
You’re perfect. Will you give me a chance to prove it to you?
The door whisked open and Shiro was there, anxiously smoothing the wrinkles out of his vest. There was a basket nestled in the crook of his left arm, a floral-patterned blanket draped over the top to obscure the basket’s contents.
A picnic? Keith couldn’t help the fond smile that curved his lips as he extended his hand and Shiro gladly took it.
“You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?” Keith asked. He swung his arm and Shiro followed the motion, rocking their hands and rubbing his thumb over Keith’s fingers.
“Depends. I thought you liked surprises.”
“You won’t even give me a clue?”
Shiro shifted the basket and looked thoughtfully ahead. “It’s dark, mostly. Lots of glass.”
“Is it your favorite place on the ship?”
“Hm, I wouldn’t say that. But it’s definitely up there.”
Keith let their joined hands come to rest. “The observation deck?”
“If you want to put a name to this, I’m asking if you’d like to go stargazing with me. With the added incentive of food,” Shiro indicated the basket, “and good company.” He gave a cheesy grin, but there was honest affection shimmering in his eyes.
Keith thought of playing it up as a joke, but their relationship was too new and fragile for that just yet. Not now, when Shiro was asking him out for the very first time.
“I’d like that,” he replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as overwhelmed as he felt. “I’d like that a lot.”
----
There was surprisingly little conversation as they set out the picnic blanket and covered containers of food. Nervous butterflies still swirled in Keith’s stomach and he didn’t trust himself to say anything that wouldn’t break the mood, so instead he listened to the far off hum of the engines and the little sounds that Shiro made, humming to himself as he unpacked. At last he reached the bottom of the basket and paused, looking at Keith to see his reaction as he produced a dark red bottle and a pair of tumblers.
“I managed to get ahold of some wine, if you’re interested.”
Keith sat down on the blanket, legs sprawled off to the side, and looked at it cautiously. “I don’t know if I want to drink something that’s been sitting around for ten thousand years.”
“It’s new, I promise. I got Coran’s help to pick it out on our last supply run -- don’t scowl at me!”
Expression flipping up into a smirk, Keith reached for one of the cups. “Fine, I’ll at least have a taste. Don’t want all your hard work going to waste.”
“You got that right,” Shiro said, feigning a pout, as he poured a bit into both tumblers. “I was cleaning pods for a week to pay him back.”
“Here’s to the sweat of your brow.” Keith lifted his cup in salute and took a sip. At first he made a face, expecting it to be awful, but the liquor was tinged with sweetness and it slid easily down his throat. He took another sip before thinking better of it and setting the tumbler aside. It wouldn’t be the first time he was unusually susceptible to alien foods and he really wanted to stay alert for this... dare he think... date.
Shiro seemed to be having similar thoughts as he toasted Keith back but barely drank anything. “I hope you don’t mind skipping a hot meal for this,” Shiro said. He filled his plate and motioned for Keith to pass his over. “I asked Hunk for good picnic food but it’s not exactly steak and potatoes.”
“Don’t make me think of steak,” Keith groaned even as he took his plate back, piled high with food. “I’ve been craving Earth food lately.”
“Sorry.” Shiro pushed the basket aside and scooted closer.
The blanket had seemed unnecessarily big when they’d spread it out on the floor, but now occupied by two grown men, it was actually cramped. Keith sat with his legs crossed and balanced his plate in his lap as he looked out at the stars. To his left, Shiro mirrored his position, but when he propped his arm behind him, metal fingers brushed Keith’s.
Keith made a noise in his throat and curled his fingers under, but Shiro left his hand where it was. It was too tempting to let down his guard and bite the bullet and hold hands, but Keith squared his jaw and determined that he wasn’t going to be the first one to crack. Even if this was something they both wanted, he needed to take it slow. Savor every moment of being together.
He took another sip of the wine and watched in silence as the starlight brushed gentle touches over Shiro’s features.
They talked a bit, mostly easy conversation about the missions, Hunk’s excellent cooking, whatever came to mind -- everything except each other. Almost by mutual agreement, they kept things between them friendly but not close. It was the same way they were sitting on the blanket, close but not touching, each a hand’s breadth away from intimacy.
At last the food was gone and the plates put back in the basket, and Shiro refilled the wine without asking.
“I like how quiet it is up here,” he said at last, leaning back on his elbows and staring at the wide view of stars.
Keith nodded and settled beside him. “It almost feels like home. The stars are the stars, no matter how far away we are.”
“Actually...” Shiro fell silent and Keith glanced over to see him frowning in the faint light.
“Actually what?”
“They’re not the same stars. Or at least, not in the same configurations as seen from Earth.” He waved his left hand at the glittering abyss. “I ought to know, I studied the stars for years in the Garrison. But out here... I don’t think I know a single one.”
“That’s okay,” Keith said, immediately tuned to the distress in Shiro’s voice. “It means we get to make up our own names and stories for them.”
Shiro scoffed. “Or we could just ask Allura or Coran. They’ve probably been to a good number of these stars.”
“That’s not the point. You want this to be a fun evening, right? So let’s name all the stars.”
Laughing, Shiro sat up and put a hand unthinkingly on Keith’s shoulder. “Now this is something I never dreamed of.”
Keith smiled back and kept his gaze toward the window, even though it felt like Shiro’s hand was burning through his jacket and searing its imprint directly into his skin. Sitting this close together was dangerous. Shiro’s knee was half an inch from pressing against his thigh, and Keith was an even smaller distance from throwing himself into Shiro’s arms. But he took a deep breath and stayed where he was, ignoring the hunger his skin felt for the other man’s touch.
“First things first,” Shiro said in a thoughtful tone. Keith turned to him, catching his breath in wild expectation of a kiss, but the Black Paladin only had eyes for the stars. “One of these constellations has to be a kid of Zeus. I mean, have you read Greek mythology? There’s plenty demigods to go around.”
“Fine.” Keith scanned the sky until a bright cluster off to the side caught his eye. “Would that one do for Hercules?”
Shiro hummed. “The light smudge above that can be Pegasus.”
“No, a unicorn.”
“Really?”
Keith crossed his arms and risked a glance at Shiro. “If we’re making this up, I say it’s a unicorn. More unique.”
“All right then. I think I get how this is going to work.” Shiro sat upright and leaned forward, searching the sky with intensity now that he was into the game. Keith smiled and reached for more wine. The easiest way to get Shiro interested in anything was to make it competitive... and that had the side effect of getting Keith himself invested.
“That one’s a cup of coffee with a spoon in it. See how it has that weird wispy bit coming out the top? Probably a quasar. But it can work as a spoon for now.”
“I thought I told you to stop making me think of Earth foods.”
“Sorry.” Shiro’s grin said that he was very much not sorry, and that he’d had more wine than probably intended. Keith reached for the half-empty bottle only to have it dangled just out of reach.
“C’mon, give it here.”
“Oops, I just remembered you’re not twenty-one. Guess I’ll have to finish all this.” Shiro acted like he was going to drink directly from the bottle and Keith waited until the last second to grab for it, tipping it almost to the spilling point before Shiro wrestled away. “No! No, Keith. Stop!” But Shiro’s words were loud and laughing and his coordination wasn’t the best as he set the bottle down between them.
“I bet you can’t find a nebula that looks like a hand,” Keith said, sinking his shoulders lower, ready to spring. Shiro turned to look and that was all the opening he needed to snatch the wine bottle and half-pour, half-splash way too much into his cup. Oh well, if he wanted the night to end the way he hoped, he’d need all the liquid courage he could get.
“Totally found one.” Shiro leaned back and picked up his tumbler. “Bet you can’t see it though.”
Keith spared the stars only a moment of attention. “Right there in the center. Those three bluish stars in a line are the middle finger.”
“Classy,” Shiro drawled. “It looks more like a hand reaching down, from my perspective.”
“Ah. Literally reaching for the stars?”
“Nah, more like they dropped their keys or something. Dropped their ice cream cone, that’s it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Shiro turned abruptly to face him, brightly shining eyes piercing right through Keith. “I try.” He tilted his head and smiled, seeming unaware of how close they were, breath fluttering past each other’s cheeks.
“Shiro --”
But the moment was broken as Shiro sat forward, resting his elbows on his legs and his chin in his hands. Maybe he had noticed how close they were and had made a decision to pull away before Keith did something brash. Or maybe he wasn’t paying any attention at all. Hard to tell. Keith picked up the bottle and swished it, content to hear that at least some was left. They both needed just enough to loosen up, to open the locks on their hearts, but not too much. Come morning, he wanted to be safe and warm in Shiro’s arms, not puking over the side of the bed.
“Did we account for the whole sky yet?”
Keith thought Shiro’s voice sounded wistful. He didn’t want the evening to be over yet either, so he inched to the edge of the blanket and forced himself to focus on the pinpoints of light and colorful clouds of gas.
“There’s two bright ones over there we didn’t name yet,” Keith said at last. They’re close enough to be tidally locked, he realized. Bound together forever.
Shiro was silent for a while and Keith was burning to give the stars names. It would be easy. Call them Silver and Gold, Shirogane and Kogane, Shiro and Keith. Call them anything as long at they were together.
“They’re going to die together.”
Okay, that was not what Keith was expecting to hear. He rested on his hands and crawled closer until Shiro closed his eyes and put his head down.
“Two supergiants like that, they use up all their fuel too fast. They burn brighter than anything else in the sky, but they’ll go supernova soon. And when one goes, the other won’t survive the shock wave, and it’ll die too.”
“But they’ll be together when it happens,” Keith persisted, not sure why he was indulging this line of thinking. “And all the time leading up to that. Maybe it’s worth it.”
“Worth it to know you’ll die in the end?” Shiro finally picked his head up and looked at Keith with eyes too shining to be entirely tear-free. “If those stars had formed farther apart, they wouldn’t be tied together. One of them could survive.”
“Maybe one doesn’t want to survive. Maybe it wants to be as close as possible in the brief time it has.”
Shiro blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek, but he forced a smile anyway. “Look at us, we’re so far gone we’re getting emotional over a lot of hot air.”
“Wasn’t that the point of tonight?” On impulse, Keith ran his fingertips along Shiro’s jaw, caution thrown to the wind, intent instead on tracing the skin tinged with blue light. When he reached the tear track, he followed it up where it skirted the edge of the awful scar and suddenly his hand was shaking and he couldn’t go any farther.
Shiro’s left hand caught Keith’s and cradled it in an earnest grip. “The point of tonight? To cry to each other about how beautiful the universe is?” He stifled a wet laugh. “How did you ever guess my secret intentions.”
Keith made a shushing noise that was lost in the sound of shifting fabric as he leaned closer into Shiro’s space, and the other man didn’t draw back.
“Keith, are you sure --”
“I want to be in your orbit forever. Even if it means we burn up together. I want to spend my life with you if you’ll let me.”
Shiro’s hand was wandering now too, metal touch light as it skimmed up Keith’s neck and landed like a resting bird on his shoulder.
“And I want to spend mine with you.”
Keith moved forward, his expression a question that was answered when Shiro wove a hand into his hair and tugged him forward. His breath caught at the moment their lips touched but Shiro only pressed in deeper and after a moment of shock Keith did the same.
Skin slid against skin and Shiro’s hand wasn’t in Keith’s hair any more, it was cupping his face and tilting him just right. Keith gasped, the sound loud in the silence, and the air he breathed in was warm with the other man’s exhale. Eyes flickering open, Keith had a moment to see Shiro’s expression, blissful and serene, contours thrown into sharp light and shadow -- then his mouth was back to plucking and pulling at Keith’s lips.
“I want to be yours,” Keith whispered, the words staccato and slurred as he formed them in between returning kisses. “I’ve wanted so long to be yours. Shiro, please...”
The lips on his were gone and he forced his eyes open to see Shiro gazing back, his attention so focused that Keith felt it like a physical touch ghosting his face.
“You’re not alone in this, Keith. Not anymore, I promise.”
“No matter what happens in the end, I’m happy for the now,” Keith murmured, eyes helplessly drifting back to where Shiro’s mouth was finally turning up into a smile.
“Me too.” Shiro tilted his head, watched the way Keith mirrored the movement, then leaned back in for another kiss. They parted again briefly, to breathe or speak, but nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.
Shiro cradled him closer, wrapping his impossibly strong, impossibly gentle metal arm around Keith’s shoulder to keep him from pulling away again. And Keith went willingly into the touch, fingers hooked tight into Shiro’s vest, willing to forget the universe around them for as long as he could.
But at last the space between kisses lengthened out into more than just catching their breath and Keith forced himself to back off. No sense spoiling a good thing with too much, too fast. No sense coming off as utterly desperate and needy, not just yet.
But Shiro’s hand in his suggested otherwise -- suggested that the other man felt the same way. His fingers ran along the edges and seams of Keith’s glove, and Keith wondered if Shiro yearned for skin-to-skin touch as much as he did right now. So he took a risk and slid his free hand to Shiro’s wrist, pushing the sleeve up a few meager inches so he could trace over the tendons that flexed and relaxed with every move of his fingers.
At last Shiro spoke, quiet words in the quiet starlight, and it was words that Keith had been dying to hear all night. He’d longed for them ages ago, before they had become paladins, before Shiro had left and returned without his smile. But even though it was late, Keith’s heart filled with happiness and he gripped Shiro’s hand tighter.
“Come to bed?”