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“All systems are go,” Sam calls from his position. “Navigation?”
“Ready!” Matt calls back.
“What do you say, Shiro? Ready for liftoff?”
Shiro takes a deep breath and looks straight ahead. “Ready for liftoff.”
Matt flashes a sharp grin at Shiro when he glances over at him. “Let’s go, boys!”
Shiro feels the same confident grin reflected on his own face.
This.
This is what he’s been waiting for his whole life.
“Ground control, count us down.”
For his last 60 seconds on Earth, Shiro closes his eyes and lets himself feel it: the realization of his greatest dream. The freedom and glory of piloting the longest and most ambitious manned mission in the history of mankind.
This time is his.
____________________
It’s amazing how little there is to do most of the time, floating five-hundred thousand miles from Earth. Navigation is on course, all systems are operating and fully functional, and there’s nothing to be seen but blackness and distant pin-pricks of stars in every direction.
“Do you miss him?” Matt asks.
Sam is taking his alone time in their tiny shoebox quarters, which is the only time Matt brings up the topic of Adam.
“No,” Shiro says honestly. “Not in that way. I mean, I miss a lot of people on Earth, sure. And sometimes I miss the way our relationship used to be. But, no. I don’t miss being with him.”
“You guys were so good together,” Matt laments. “I’m still sorry about that.”
Shiro tries to give him a reassuring smile. Something in his chest gives a sharp twinge. Truthfully, he wishes Matt would stop talking about Adam, but not because it’s the thought of Adam that hurts. “Don’t be sorry. Seriously, Matt. I’m so far over that relationship, it’s not even worth talking about.”
“Shiro…”
“Matt, I’m fine.”
“Okay. Sure. Whatever you say.”
Shiro gazes out the viewport into the immense emptiness. “It’s really beautiful out here.”
“Sure,” Matt allows. “After a while, it all sort of looks the same though, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, maybe.” He keeps looking. Those stars are millions of miles away. They can’t even feel their heat from where they are. “But it’s all beautiful.”
When he glances over at Matt, Matt is smiling.
“I guess it is.”
____________________
Seven-hundred sixty-two thousand miles, and still over two million more to go. It’s been two months, as best as Shiro can tell. Two months of frozen space peas— thank god that’s all they brought. Peas have never been high on Shiro’s list of frozen foods.
He can’t help but think about all of the food he’s left behind. Mashed potatoes, pot roast, cheeseburgers, even ramen when he could get off base and into the city. But most of all, he misses mac and cheese.
Something pokes him on the cheek and he startles. Matt is looking at him like a cat toying with a mouse. If he had a tail, it would be flicking around behind him.
“You’ve got that look on your face,” he says.
Shiro arches an eyebrow at him. “What look?”
“That yearning look. The one you used to get when you were away from your lover for too long.”
Shiro can’t help but laugh. Matt has no idea how far off base he is.
“Oh, come on, Shiro. I know you. I know what you look like when you’re in love. Maybe the time away has given you some time to think. That’s fine!” He pauses, pensive, like he’s measuring his words, which Shiro has never known Matt to do. One of things Shiro likes about Matt is that he never knows what’s going to come out of his mouth. He always keeps him guessing. “Listen, if you’re thinking about getting back together with Adam…” he trails off, eyebrows furrowing. That tingle in Shiro’s chest is back, uncomfortable. Matt takes a deep breath and forges on. “Well, I think that would be a great idea.”
Shiro’s heart stutters to a stop. “You do?” That sensation in his chest builds. It’s prickling, sparking like something not quite able to ignite.
“Yeah!” Matt’s bright grin is like a kindle to the flame. The prickling gets sharper, his breathing just a little rougher. “You guys were really good together, once upon a time. You should go for it.”
All at once, Shiro is overcome with a rattling cough. He can’t even focus on the disappointment of hearing those words from Matt. It’s painful, and he’s not sure where it came from.
“Hey, you okay?” Matt asks. Shiro can’t answer through the coughs. “Hang tight, I’ll get you some water.”
He comes back with a water pouch, and Shiro drinks it greedily. When he’s finished, the coughing has subsided, and the tingling in his chest has gone.
“Weird,” he muses to himself. “Must have inhaled something.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Matt asks again. He’s looking at Shiro with big, honey eyes, and Shiro’s chest briefly twinges again. But he doesn’t cough, so he ignores it.
“Yeah,” he says. “Thanks, Matt.”
“Of course.”
____________________
Halfway to Kerberos, something hits the outside of the ship.
Shiro is the only one who wakes when it happens, but he knows better than to investigate anything in deep space by himself, so he wakes Sam and Matt. He straps into his foot and waist restraints and all of the redundant tethers, seals the airlock, and leaps.
It’s uncommon but not unheard of for stray debris to strike this far out in space. They’ll be approaching Uranus soon, so it was probably something that broke off from its rings or one of its moons and floated past.
There’s a small dent in the hull that’s pushed up a small bit of siding, but it seems to be a superficial dent. Ships meant for deep space are engineered with layers upon layers to account for exactly this. Shiro runs his hand across the surface, searching for any sign of breach or danger, but he finds none. He pulls back his hand and gasps as the jagged edge rips a small slit in his glove. He clasps his hand closed to prevent an air leak and signals Matt to pull him back.
The skin beneath his glove is nicked, but it’s not too bad. There are backup gloves, too, so all in all, it’s a minor problem at worst. Sam files the damage report with dictation from Shiro as Matt applies antiseptic and a bandage to Shiro’s hand. He can be shockingly gentle when he wants to be, in stark contrast to his usually brash personality. It’s these little glimpses into his heart that Shiro’s been noticing more and more lately.
“There you go. All set,” Matt says. “Luckily it wasn’t too bad. I’m not sure what we would have done without our star pilot.” He winks, and Shiro rolls his eyes fondly at the subtle dig. Matt loves to tease him about being a golden boy.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Shiro assures him. “But please, don’t take that as a challenge.”
Matt grins and pokes him in the side where it tickles. “Fine. I won’t push you out of the airlock. But only because me and Dad have to get back home, or mom will be pissed.”
“That she would be,” Sam chimes in. “Plus, I believe you promised Katie a future mission, too. She will hold you to your promise, even if she has to come out here and drag you home herself.”
The atmosphere in their little craft is warm and homey. Out here, among the stars with two men he trusts with his life, he thinks life can’t get much better than this.
His relationship with Adam is a distant memory, at this point. He’s had plenty of time to come to terms with their breakup, and he knows it was truly for the best. Adam wasn’t right for him in the end.
He looks at Matt again, joking with his dad and trading jabs about whatever techno-babble nonsense they’re going on about, and thinks that yes, the breakup was definitely for the best.
____________________
It’s smooth sailing for a long time. They cut it a little close around Uranus’ rings, and Shiro has to actively pilot to get them clear of the big chunks of debris, but they make it through completely unharmed.
It’s been months, though, and while Shiro feels completely at home up here, it can get a little stale.
They make up games to pass the time. Matt is especially fond of zero-gravity basketball, in which they take turns trying to make trick shots into an empty box they’ve crudely fastened to the wall. Since there’s no gravity, the bottom of the box is fastened to the wall, and the goal is to get a wad of paper or some other roughly ball-shaped object to float through the air and touch the “backboard.” Shiro is frustratingly bad at it. Sam, amazingly, is better than either of them when he chooses to partake.
Shiro knows that Matt has been on short-distance missions before in preparation for this one, but Shiro wasn’t with him for any of them. This is their first one together. Shiro counts himself lucky that he and his crew like each other so much; it definitely helps keep their spirits up while they’re floating around in the black. Matt’s plucky personality and penchant for making his own fun might annoy some people, but Shiro finds it refreshing and charming.
He can’t help it— the more time he spends with Matt, the more time he wants to spend with Matt. His feelings had been minimal when they’d first boarded the ship, but he knows now that they aren’t going to go away any time soon. They keep growing. Sometimes it feels like they’re physically growing inside him; he’ll watch Matt laugh and feel tendrils of tenderness twist inside him. And when Matt mentions Adam, he feels them tighten around his lungs, like the idea of Matt not sharing Shiro’s feelings is something his body rejects outright.
It’s a selfish way to think about his best friend. He knows he has no claim to Matt— hell, he’s honestly not sure if Matt would even be open to the idea of a relationship with a man. Sure, he’s seen Matt flirt with just about everyone, but flirting rarely means something when it comes to Matt. Matt has flirted with Shiro more times than Shiro can count, and even Adam, back when things were still good between them. But he also knows that Matt has only kissed two people in his life, and both of them were girls. He’s never actually heard Matt express any real interest in men.
That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not interested, it just… doesn’t necessarily fill Shiro with hope, either.
“Hey, Matt?” Shiro asks one night, feeling brave and bored and a little bit lonely.
“Mm?”
“Have you ever thought about, you know, the kinds of people you’re attracted to?”
Matt shrugs. “Not really. Is this about Adam?”
Shiro barely manages to hold back a groan. It’s always about Adam when this kind of stuff comes up. “No. I was just curious. We haven’t talked about it that much, you and I.”
“Oh,” Matt says. “I dunno. I mean, I uh. I’ve definitely had feelings for people before. And you know I’ve dated a couple of girls. It just never really feels like something… worth pursuing, I guess.”
“I see,” Shiro says. He tries to hide his disappointment. Sometimes it seems like they’re on the same page, though Shiro seldom lets himself hope. Sometimes Matt is so sweet and gentle; Shiro has never seen that side of him around anyone else before, so it must mean something, right? “Ever? Or just right now?”
“I don’t know.” Matt squirms a bit where he’s lounging. “I mean, I think it would be great, in theory. You know, having someone to hold, or hold me, at night while we’re sleeping. And I like kissing, and while I’m not wildly experienced like some people—” the last part is said pointedly “—I know I’ll definitely enjoy the uh, other stuff. When the time comes.”
Thinking about Matt and the other stuff has Shiro flustered. This is new for them. They’ve been friends for a long time, but other than the bits and pieces Shiro allowed himself to share of his relationship with Adam, they’ve never really talked about sex stuff.
“You know that for sure, huh?” He’s going for teasing, trying to lighten the mood as his chest grows tighter thinking of Matt with someone else, but he thinks it might sound a little breathier than intended.
Matt wheezes out a punched-out laugh. “I mean, yeah? I’m a virgin, Shiro, not a monk.”
“Sorry,” Shiro says around a laugh. “I didn’t mean to imply you were.”
Matt rolls his eyes and flops against his bunk. “Yeah, yeah. I know it’s impossible for you to think of me as a sexual being, but these hands have had some action.” His tone is teasing, but Shiro’s stomach rolls all the same.
“Why do you think that?”
“You know,” Matt says, eyes averted, “because we’re friends, right? I mean, that would be weird, wouldn’t it? The two of us?”
He inhales, ready to retort, to say No, that wouldn’t be weird at all, when he’s overcome with a hacking cough. It starts and stops, and though he tries to drink water to soothe his throat, it just comes back up as he coughs before he even has the chance to swallow.
Shiro runs to the bathroom for some semblance of privacy while he hacks and wheezes into the toilet, though he knows everyone can hear him around the ship anyway. It takes a long time for the coughing to abate, and when he can finally catch his breath, his stomach bottoms out at what he sees in the toilet.
Blood. Blood splattered all over the inside of the toilet bowl.
And down at the bottom, through the pinkish water, he sees what looks like a flower petal.
The sound of Matt’s voice travels through the accordion door. “Shiro? Hey, are you okay?”
Shiro flushes the evidence of his episode before he has a chance to make out the color of the petal or anything else about it.
“I’m okay,” he says. He’s shaky, that’s for sure. He’s not sure where this cough came from; it’s not something he ever dealt with when he was on Earth. He’s never experienced anything similar on other launches, but this is the longest he’s ever been in space, so maybe…?
He pulls the door open and steps out of the bathroom. Matt is pale and nervous. Shiro doesn’t blame him, really— Shiro is the only pilot they have. On top of concern for a friend, Matt and Sam need him to get home.
“I’m fine,” he says, summoning his brave face and as much confidence as he can muster. He lays both hands on Matt’s shoulders to ground him. “I haven’t been drinking enough water up here. I’m not very well hydrated, and the air is dry, and I pretty much live with a constant tickle in my throat. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
Matt nods. He still looks a little pale, but his color is slowly coming back. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay. If you say so. I trust you, Shiro.”
Shiro smiles at his friend. “I know. Your trust means everything to me, Matt. I promise I wouldn’t have come on this mission if I didn’t know for sure I could handle it.”
“Yeah,” Matt says again. He seems more sure this time. “Of course. Dad wouldn’t have let you come if he thought any differently, either.”
He’s relaxing little by little. It’s sweet, all of it— his genuine concern for Shiro’s wellbeing, and his faith and trust in Shiro. Shiro isn’t sure he deserves all that Matt and the rest of the Holt family give him, but it warms him all the same.
“Come on. Let’s get some water and play a game.”
“Okay!” Matt follows after him, and they both set it aside for the time being.
Still, though, Shiro can’t help but think of the little petal floating beneath the surface of the water.
____________________
Shiro does what he can to hide his worsening symptoms. He knows the crew can hear him coughing, but that doesn’t mean they need to know about the blood and petals— and recently, the flowers. Every breath he takes wheezes from his lungs. It’s like he can physically feel whatever has taken root in his airways. He’s slower, too. He knows that if he had to pass a physical examination now, he would fail.
All he hopes for now is that he can survive long enough to get through the mission and turn the ship around.
After coughing up his first whole flower, Shiro spent a lot of time searching for a match. It’s a daffodil, he thinks, though he’s never been very good at telling this sort of thing. He doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t remember ever having seen daffodils growing in the desert, and he certainly doesn’t know when he would have inhaled their spores.
He wants to ask Sam about it. Sam could call Colleen if he doesn’t know the answer himself. But Shiro needs them to have faith in him. They won’t get through this without trusting each other totally, and if he shakes their confidence in him now, it may end very badly.
But it’s getting harder and harder to hide. Several times over the past weeks, as his condition has worsened, he’s caught Matt and Sam whispering about him as he’s come out of the bathroom. He knows they’re worried. He knows he has to tell them. He just really needs to get through harvesting the ice samples first.
____________________
“I see it!” Matt cries, his joy palpable. “We made it! Shiro, Dad, we’re really going to be the first humans to land on Kerberos! On this side of the solar system!”
“Yes we are!” Sam agrees. “All thanks to our incredible pilot and my incredibly talented son.”
“But mostly Shiro,” Matt says. “He’s truly the best man for the job.”
“Don’t discount the importance of navigation, Matt,” Shiro chides, a little bashful at the praise. “I may be able to fly, but it’s no good if I don’t know where I’m going.”
“That’s right. You two really are a dynamic duo.” Sam’s smile is apparent in his voice, even through the earpiece of Shiro’s helmet.
“Prepare for landing on Kerberos,” Shiro says.
Sam and Shiro successfully land the ship, and that’s it— they are officially the first humans in deep space. Mission success.
For a while, the excitement and pride of their accomplishment — Shiro’s accomplishment — is all Shiro can think about. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and now he’s done it. All that’s left is to get the samples and go home; the rest is up to science.
He’s all smiles as they exit the ship. The gravity is bizarre, making every step feel like a flying leap. Matt leaps and bounds around the moon while he can, before they have to activate the enhanced gravity in their boots to weigh them down enough to walk normally.
It’s such a small moon, it’s almost jarring. They can see clear across to the end of the moon where the horizon bends downward.
“Amazing,” Shiro breathes.
Sam and Matt are already gathering the machinery to pick up the first ice sample. Shiro rolls his eyes and huffs affectionately— always ice samples with these two.
He helps unload the drill and sets it up while Sam checks that the sample tube seals airtight and the on-board freezer is set to the proper temperature. They’ll collect a variety of ice samples on both spheres of Kerberos’ surface, but the amount of time they spend here will be extremely limited. They should be back en route to Earth in only one solar day.
The first sample collection is nearly complete when Shiro realizes he can’t breathe. He’s wheezing in his helmet, and before he even has the chance to comprehend what’s happening, his vision is blacking out.
“Shiro?”
He hears it through his earpiece, but he can’t focus enough to tell which of his crew is calling for him.
“Shiro! Shiro, oh my god— Dad, help!”
His own wheezing gets louder until it’s all he can hear. He’s overwhelmed— he can’t— he can’t fucking breathe!
He coughs, trying to force stale air out of his lungs, but everything is blocked. There’s something in his throat. It’s that same itching, clawing feeling that’s been building for months, and now it’s taken over, and he can’t even explain it to his crew.
He’s going to die.
They’re all going to die, stranded, on this stupid little moon.
He’s going to let them all down, let down Colleen and Katie, everyone at the Garrison waiting for them. He’s letting down Sam. He’s letting down Matt.
Shiro coughs, and he coughs, and he coughs, and when he finally manages to dislodge something from his throat, he wishes he hadn’t. It’s a whole flower, stem and all, bloodied and macabre; and even after all of that, he still can’t breathe.
“Get him onto the ship,” someone commands. There are hands on him, and he’s moving, but he’s still coughing. He can’t see through his faceplate. There’s blood everywhere, and petals and whole chunks of flowers. The stem of his first flower is still sticking uncomfortable in his throat, nowhere to go with the faceplate in the way.
His helmet is finally ripped off some amount of time later, but he still can’t see. Everything is black and fuzzy. It’s the lack of oxygen, he knows, but it’s still too terrifying, so he closes his eyes and stops trying to see. They position him on his hands and knees, and Shiro just coughs and throws up sick and flowers and blood.
“God, oh god, what is this,” someone whispers. He sounds upset. Shiro is making them upset. He’s letting them down, he’s going to get them killed, and now he’s making them upset. “Dad, please, I don’t— I don’t know what to do. Shiro.”
“I don’t know, Matt. I’ve never see anything like this.”
“You have to help him!”
“I’m doing the best I can!”
Shiro doesn’t know what anyone else is doing. All he can do is hack and cough and beg the cosmos that he doesn’t die before he can set a course back to Earth.
“We have to go back,” Matt says as though reading Shiro’s mind. “We have to go back to Earth and get him help.”
“NO,” Shiro gasps through wheezing breaths. “Need— samples.”
“The samples aren’t important!” Matt cries. Dazedly, Shiro thinks that’s the first and last time he’ll ever hear Matt say such a thing. Matt loves the ice samples. He's breaking Matt's heart. He's ruining this mission. “I’m going to plot the course back to Earth! We’re taking Shiro back!”
“Matt, there’s no time! It took us eight months to get here! Think about what you’re saying! Shiro won’t make it back in time even if we leave now.”
“So, what, we’re just supposed to let him die?! We can’t! I can’t! I need him!”
“I know you're scared—”
“No, you don't GET IT! I can’t live without him, dad. We— He's my best friend, okay? He’s…”
The coughing has slowed. It seems that Shiro has expelled the larger portions of flowers that have been blocking his airways, but he still can’t breath cleanly. His throat is wrecked. There are still obstructions preventing airflow. The oxygen to his brain has helped clear his vision enough for him to see the gruesome pile all over the floor. There are daffodils everywhere, just like the ones he's been spitting into the toilet, only bigger and fuller. It doesn't make any sense. How…?
He lets himself fall and rolls onto his side. He holds up a shaking hand to his face— the one he’d injured several months ago when the debris hit the ship. “Space— dust,” he wheezes.
“We cleaned that wound,” Sam says, shaking his head sadly. “If it's still in his system, I don’t know how to treat that.”
“Don’t— worry— about— me,” Shiro wheezes. “Save— yourselves.”
“Shut up,” Matt hisses. “Shut up, Shiro. We’re not doing that.” Through slitted, tired eyes, Shiro can see tears running down Matt’s face. He moves his gaze sluggishly toward Sam, who looks misty-eyed but resigned, and then back to Matt.
Matt looks furious and heartbroken and devastated.
“Sorry,” Shiro says. “For— failing.”
Matt turns into his father and buries his face in his shoulder. “Dad, please,” he begs. “There must be something we can do.”
Shiro watches his best friend shake and gasp with sobs. His own heart is equally broken. He’ll never forgive himself for the pain he’s causing so many people, even if the ones back on Earth don’t know it yet.
“It’ll be okay, Matt. We’ll be okay.”
Shiro is so tired. He forces his eyes to stay open, but he’s fighting a losing battle. It’s all he can do to make himself stay awake, but soon he’ll be gone. He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but before his eyes close for good, he thinks he hears Matt sob, “I love him, Dad. I love him.”
Then it’s all black.
____________________
It’s cold. That’s the first thing Shiro feels. The next thing Shiro feels is his own breaths, easing in and out of his lungs slowly but surely.
“I—” He means to say I can breathe, but his throat is raw, and speaking is too painful.
Next to him, there’s quick movement, and then Shiro feels hands on his face, tilting his head so that when he opens his eyes, Matt’s big, golden eyes are staring at him.
“Hey,” Matt says, and then his face crumples, and Shiro is once again watching this amazing boy cry for him.
He tries to whisper, “Hey,” but it barely comes out. Matt seems to understand, though.
“I thought you were dead,” Matt says. “You’ve been asleep for days. We didn’t know if you’d ever wake up, but your heart was beating.”
“Where—?”
“We’re still on Kerberos,” Matt explains. “Dad didn’t want to move you until you stabilized.”
Shiro lifts an eyebrow. It takes a massive amount of strength to do so, but once again, he can count on Matt to understand what he’s asking.
“You’re okay. We think. After you passed out, you expelled a ton of flowers and mucus and a bunch of other really gross stuff.” Shiro smiles at the way Matt explains it so bluntly. “It was like, super gross.” He’s smiling, though, so Shiro knows he’s not lying when he says Shiro is okay. “So you coughed all of this stuff out, and since then you’ve been breathing fine. I’ve been… monitoring you myself.”
Shiro summons the rest of his strength to reach out for Matt’s hand. Matt takes it willingly and closes his fingers around Shiro’s.
“I’m so happy you’re okay, Shiro. You have no idea.”
Shiro nods minutely. He does know. He’s so indescribably glad that he’s not dead, and he has a chance to get them all home.
“Shiro?” Matt asks. Shiro opens his eyes. He doesn’t remember closing them. Matt looks nervous, a sweet blush coloring his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. This close, Shiro can see the faint freckles on his cheeks, and the one lone freckle in Matt’s left eye that he’s secretly grown to adore.
Matt takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, or the right time to tell you, but I think, considering you almost died— There’s something I really need to tell you.”
Shiro continues to watch him, rapt as can be when he’s still so exhausted.
“I have feelings for you,” Matt says. “Deep feelings. That is— well, I mean… I love you, Shiro.” He voices softens impossibly at the end. His eyes match his tone of voice, honeyed and warm and so, so sweet.
Shiro can’t believe it. He thought he’d been hallucinating that. He thought it was his brain’s attempt at one last mercy, one dying wish before it all ended. But here Matt is, at his side, professing his love even after everything Shiro has put him through. It’s almost too much to bear.
“I love you, too.” It hurts to get it out, but it’s important that Matt hears it. “Loved you— for a long time.”
Matt’s eyes fill with tears again, but he’s grinning so widely, it almost looks like it hurts. “I’m gonna remind you that you said that when you wake up,” he teases. “And then we’re gonna get the hell out of here and go home.”
____________________
When Shiro wakes again, he feels much more rested. Sam had apparently convinced Matt to complete the mission while they waited for Shiro to wake up, so all they need to do now is make sure Shiro can fly.
His lungs feel great. It hurts to speak, but he can breath, and walk, and though he’s a bit weak from not eating for a few days, there’s no reason he can’t pilot them home.
The first time he stands and walks all the way across the ship, Matt pulls him down into a kiss. He has the strength to encircle his arms around Matt’s waist and pull him close and kiss him until Sam interrupts them with news.
“Everything is packed up, boys. It’s time to go home.”
____________________
When they land, Colleen and Katie aren’t even a little bit surprised at the development in their relationship.