Chapter Text
For the next two quintants, Shiro only saw Keith in passing as they attended their appointed meetings and negotiated with coalition members about everything from recruiting new planets to coordinating relief efforts. Shiro assisted with the former, while Keith often led or participated in the latter, his relief efforts with the Blade of Marmora a leading factor in drumming up goodwill for the Coalition.
In the few meetings they did attend together, they only managed to sit next to each other once, and if he'd thought watching Keith from across the room was distracting, sitting next to him was a total loss. Instead of paying attention to the presenters, he'd found himself memorizing the exact way Keith's raven hair curled around his ears, the way his sooty lashes fanned across his skin when he closed his eyes in frustration, and the way his chiseled jaw - was it broader now? - tensed when someone inevitably said something stupid.
Shiro sighed and dug his chin further into his palm as he slouched over the guest room's balcony railing. The new Altean Castle wasn't quite the same as the old Castleship - the existence of balconies and sliding windows to let in fresh air being a noticeable difference - but the familiarity pierced him with a sense of nostalgia. And a touch of longing, too.
He'd come back from the astral plane a bit of a mess... Okay, a lot of a mess. But a blunt talk with Keith had helped him come to terms with the fact that he needed yet another doctor, this time for his mental health. The Garrison had recommended an amazing therapist, and with hard work, he'd begun to heal. The problem was, he'd put a lot of things, including dating, on hold while he pulled himself together. Now, he didn't know how to get back into the game.
Or perhaps more accurately, he didn't know what to do with his increasingly awkward attraction to his former mentee and current best friend. How did one go about asking the person they'd once tried to murder for a date?
Scratch that. How did he go about asking the person his clone tried to murder, whose affection he'd afterward rejected, and who now didn't want to date anyone for a date?
Shiro sighed again.
Atlas jingled in the back of his head, reminding him the gala would technically start in less than fifteen doboshes. The elite of the Coalition tended to arrive late and stay late at these affairs, but he liked to arrive early and leave early. At this point, they all knew his parting line: The Altas never sleeps. As a bonus, it worked to keep him safe from the diplomats who got handsy when they invariably drank too much as the night wore on.
He pushed away from the railing and headed back into his room. He'd already showered, shaved and styled his hair, so he pulled off his robe and donned his dress uniform. After a quick look in the mirror to ensure his hair was still perfectly tousled and his subtle eye-liner hadn't smudged, he made his way to the ballroom in the adjoining events building.
As he stepped into the foyer, he scanned over the smattering of guests before letting his gaze sweep upward. The Alteans had gone all out for the event: swaths of sheer fabric draped across the arched ceilings in dark blues, purples, and blacks; matching light displays moved in slow motion over the satin-sheened cloth, mimicking the night skies from a myriad of Coalition planets; and a wide black velvet rug trimmed in silver led across the foyer to the massive white doors of the ballroom, which had been thrown open and draped with more blue and purple fabric.
Shiro planned his route across the room and then set off, greeting those he couldn't afford to slight and skillfully maneuvering away from those who would talk his ear off before he even made it into the ballroom. Despite his care, he saw the ambassador from Urema - who happened to be in the latter group - headed toward him. He held back a grimace and looked for an out. Halfway across the room, he caught Coran's eye, and whether the Altean knew it or not, he reacted perfectly.
"Ah, number one!" Coran called from his station at the door, waving in his typical animated manner. "So good to see you this evening. You look smashing as usual."
"Thank you, Coran," Shiro replied as he approached. In his peripheral vision, he watched the ambassador turn away to find another victim and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "You're looking well yourself."
Coran smiled and twirled his mustache while smoothing a hand down his floor-length purple and blue cape. "I am rather fond of tonight's theme."
Shiro's smile faded. "Theme?"
"Oh, worry not, Shiro my lad, you'll be quite acceptable in your black and white captain's uniform. But those of us allowed to add a bit of flair to our outfits are going by the theme" -Coran swept the cape in front of him and raised a bushy eyebrow- "Stars and splendor."
"Oh. When was that decided?"
"Movements ago, my boy! Did you not see the invitation?"
Shiro hid a grimace behind his hand as he remembered the unopened invitation sitting on his desk. "I might have?"
"Well, never you mind," Coran said with a cluck of his tongue. "I know for a fact the other paladins are getting into the spirit. I believe they even convinced number four to dress up with them."
Shiro suppressed a shiver of anticipation. He'd tried not to think too hard about their conversation in the Atlas kitchen or about his monumental screw ups of touching Keith's face like some love-sick fool and then spouting off with that "looks good in anything" comment. In his defense, he'd been flustered by seeing Keith again and realizing exactly how much he'd missed his best friend during their phoebs apart.
Every time he'd seen Keith since then, though, it had taken all his will-power to not ask about the outfit. He wondered when Keith and the others might arrive. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten here so early for once? What if he-
Coran patted his arm, pulling him from his spiral. He smiled at the older man before nodding.
"I'd heard about that. I'm curious to see what they come up with.
"As am I! But Lance seemed to have things under control. In the meantime, the ballroom awaits!"
Coran swept a hand toward the open doors in invitation, and Shiro gave Coran a parting wave as he followed the velvet carpet through the arched entry. If the foyer had been an appetizer, the ballroom was the main course. Here, long strips of black and gray sheer fabric wove together with blue and purple satin hung from the ceiling, creating a hushed effect as the billowing cloth absorbed sound and lent the room a more intimate feel. Delicate crystalline sculptures floated in the spaces between the fabric, giving off a soft white glow and throwing pricks of light across and through the material. The gray and black marbled floor, made from some kind of native Altean stone, had been polished to a high gloss and reflected the lights above like stars scattered across a placid lake - stars and splendor indeed.
Shiro followed the velvet carpet around the edge of the room, expertly dodging other diplomats as he made his way toward the Altean equivalent of a bar. The bartender nodded at Shiro's drink order and a few doboshes later, they handed off a fruity but subtle concoction that Shiro hoped would quell his rising nerves. He sucked down half the drink and then nearly spit it all over the bar as a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Easy there, Shirogane. It's a marathon, not a sprint."
"Matt!" Shiro choked out in reprimand, coughing as the drink caught in his throat.
"Sorry," Matt replied with a little laugh that belied his apology. "I didn't realize you were that distracted."
Shiro inhaled a deep breath as the coughs subsided and then exhaled a sigh. He turned to face his friend, a sardonic brow raised in challenge.
"Yes, you sound incredibly sorry. What are you doing here? I thought you were stuck on Earth working on some top-secret project."
"I'm supposed to be, but mom got tired of Pidge putting off coming home, so I'm here to drag her back through the wormhole with me after your reunion next movement."
"She mentioned going home for a visit the other quintant, so you shouldn't have much trouble."
"Thank the stars," Matt breathed to himself before shooting Shiro a crooked grin. "In other news, I hear the paladins are going all out with the theme tonight."
"Do you know what they're planning?"
Shiro did his best to disguise the eagerness in his voice, but Matt had gotten too good at reading him during the last couple of deca-phoebs. His smile morphed into a wolfish grin.
"I might have gotten a peek when I met up with Pidge earlier."
"And?"
Matt sucked a breath through his teeth and grimaced. "And... Lance went all out this time. You're going to have your work cut out for you keeping those handsy diplomats off Keith. I fear the bloodbath and loss of appendages that will occur if you don't."
Shiro blinked and then swept his gaze over the growing crowd with new eyes. He hadn't considered that Keith might garner other attention with his outfit, though he should have. Just that quintant, he'd received an inquiry from a recently-joined representative about the availability of the former Black Paladin as a "mate."
Shiro swallowed hard. The thought of others looking at Keith - and worse, of Keith looking back - turned his stomach. He knew he had no right to feel that way. Keith was his own man and could be with whomever he pleased.
And yet...
At least he could take some comfort in Keith's assurance that he didn't want to date anyone - even if that excluded Shiro, too. Then again, not dating didn't mean not hooking up.
Shiro wiped a hand over his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath through the sour churn of his stomach. He refocused on Matt only to find his friend staring at him with wide eyes.
"Holy hells, Pidge was right!"
Shiro hated to ask, but he had to know. "About what?"
"She said you were pining hard so hard for our grumpy half-galra that her algorithms were blushing. I didn't believe her, but now..."
Shiro narrowed his eyes at Matt before downing the other half of his drink. Matt let out an unnecessarily loud cackle and slapped Shiro on the back.
"It's about damn time! How did it happen? I mean, you've had years to appreciate the fine specimen that is Keith Kogane. Why now?"
Shiro felt his expression shifting into something vicious before he could stop it. Matt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and he raised his hands to mime surrender.
"Woah! No reason to get grumpy at me. I'm very happily taken, but like most other people here, I do have eyes."
"Sorry," Shiro mumbled as he wiped a hand over his face.
Matt's features softened as he nodded. "So what now?"
Shiro sighed. He waved at the bartender for another drink and then forced himself to meet Matt's gaze.
"And now... nothing. We're best friends. Better than we've ever been, and I'm not sure I get to ask for more, considering... everything."
Matt's gleeful expression morphed into incredulity. "You're joking, right? You have to be joking."
"Things happened between us, Matt-"
"But you talked about it. Keith said you two cleared the air last deca-phoeb."
Shiro blinked. "He... he told you about that?"
"Well, he didn't give me details, but he seemed happier than usual. I asked him about it, and he told me you two talked through some lingering stuff related to the war."
Shiro nodded as a wave of relief washed over him. He didn't care that Matt and Keith had become good friends, of course, but knowing that Keith had kept their conversation private soothed the jealousy that grew more intense with each question he fielded about Keith.
"Yeah," Shiro said, "I mean... we talked about most things. And it's been great since then, but..."
"But after clearing the air, you realized your feelings for your best friend had gone way beyond platonic?"
The bartender brought Shiro his second drink, and he took a small sip to delay his response. The tart flavors burst over his tongue as he allowed himself to savor the drink instead of downing it like the first. The cold glass under his fingers, however, did nothing to alleviate the heat rushing up his neck to spread over his face.
"It's... complicated."
"When is it not? Seriously, Shiro. Keith is over the moon for you. What are you waiting for?"
Shiro's fingers tightened around his glass. "Did he tell you that?"
"As if he needs to say it out loud," Matt scoffed.
"He told me he doesn't want to date anyone."
"Anyone except you," Matt exclaimed before resting a hand on the bar and leaning over as if winded. "I swear to Bob. You two are exhausting."
"Don't joke," Shiro warned as his insides trembled with hope. "Not about this."
Matt immediately straightened and put both hands on Shiro's shoulders. "Look at my face. I promise you I'm not joking about this. If you like Keith, all you have to do is tell him, and he'll be all yours."
Matt's expression radiated sincerity, but Shiro snorted and looked away. Could it be so simple? Had Keith truly never moved on?
"Hey now," Matt said when Shiro didn't reply. "Where's that famous Shirogane determination? Where's that-"
"Captain Shirogane!"
As the first of what was sure to be a long line of Coalition representatives approached, Shiro gave Matt an apologetic smile, pushed away from the bar, and plastered on the professional mask he'd perfected as a teenager with a terminal illness. When people had underestimated him or told him he was reaching too high, Shiro had learned to smile and nod... and then embarrass them by proving them wrong. That mask served him well in diplomatic situations like the gala.
As he began chatting with the representative from some planet or another, he caught sight of Matt waving at him in the background. When he had Shiro's attention, he mouthed "ask him out" and then turned to wave down the bartender. Shiro fought back the blush as best he could and focused on the person in front of him.
And so it went for the next varga. Shiro sipped his drink, mingled, and offered his typical excuses for not dancing. The room filled to bursting with representatives from all over the universe, and through it all, Shiro kept an eye on the door while his mind spun around in circles over what to do about Keith.
He knew he should simply be grateful for the friendship they already had, but Matt's words echoed in his mind, reminding him that the feelings he'd finally acknowledged last deca-phoeb only grew stronger with each passing day. It had started with his therapist's encouragement to invite Keith to a session to talk. Keith had agreed, and they'd ended up spending multiple sessions hashing out their time together at the Garrison, their first year in space as paladins, and finally the floating specter of Shiro's clone and all the horror that came along with that.
They hadn't talked about what happened after Allura transferred his consciousness to the clone's body, but at the time, Shiro hadn't seen the need. Now, he wished he'd at least told Keith the truth - that in his attempts to sort through what was his and what was the clone's, his initial flare of attraction to Keith had confused him, and he'd buried it away as a residual emotion from the clone. After a couple of years of therapy and some soul searching, though, it turned out the clone was just way ahead of him in figuring out how important Keith was to him.
After those sessions, he and Keith had reaffirmed their friendship and renewed their commitment to stay in touch. Keith began spending less time on Daibazaal between missions and more time with Shiro on the Atlas, while Shiro had set firm boundaries between his work and free time (much to his therapist's delight) so he could spend more time with Keith. Bit by bit, Shiro had gone from admiring things like his best friend's strong leadership, compassion, and combat skills to noticing his additional attributes such as sparkling midnight eyes, firm muscles, and that devastating grin.
Now, Shiro second-guessed every interaction. Did he hug Keith too long when they parted? Did he snuggle too close during their vid nights? Keith took everything in stride, of course - Shiro doubted Keith had noticed anything different in their interactions - but it was only a matter of time before Shiro gave himself away. His blunders in the kitchen had proved that.
Shiro was still thinking about Keith while mmhmm'ing his way through a rehash of an earlier meeting when a strange hush fell over the crowd. Shiro was tall for a human, but many of the aliens in attendance were far taller; he couldn't get a clear view of the doorway. Absently apologizing to his current companion, he dove into the crowd just as a rumble toward the front built into a furor.
When he emerged from the crowd, he found Lance, Hunk and Pidge standing in the arched doorway. Each of them wore a unique outfit, though Shiro sensed they were meant to fit together as elements of some larger whole. Lance sported wide-legged pants and a form-fitting, calf-length jacket with slits up the side, both made of an iridescent red material that shifted from cherry red to deep maroon at various angles. A blue and silver constellation pattern with bursts of pink whirled over his chest. Pidge wore a flowing, sleeveless green shirt with the same pattern woven around the hem and down the legs of her simple green pants. Hunk looked dashing in an antique-style cavalry jacket and pants in deep yellows with shiny gold accents. The constellation pattern circled the sleeves and spread across the chest of his jacket.
Shiro smiled as he took a few steps forward to compliment his friends. Instead of greeting him, however, Lance looked directly at him, smirked, and stepped to the side.
A gasp went up from the crowd, and clapping started up somewhere in the back of the room, which quickly spread into full applause. Shiro noticed none of it, however, as Keith stepped forward to join the other three.
Shiro had gotten used to seeing Keith in form-fitting suits, but the thin material that draped from Keith's body like a second skin brought new meaning to the concept. Bright red sleeves shifted into a deep maroon that hugged his defined biceps and led up to broad shoulders where the fabric finally shifted into all black. A silver-trimmed collar led to a deep v-neck that hinted at firm pectorals, while the same constellation pattern swept down from his left shoulder, wound around his chest, and faded out around his right side along an asymmetrical hem line. Below that, black pant legs curved around impressive thighs and then fell in straight lines to the floor.
Shiro didn't know if he managed to hold back the whimper, but the crowd had burst into such a frenzy, it didn't matter. As Keith's gaze swept over the room and landed on Shiro, though, a seed of hope took root despite the doubts that still plagued him. The hope grew as they locked gazes and a pretty flush spread over Keith's cheeks.
A nudge from Lance drew Keith's attention, and as his gaze slid away, Shiro felt like he'd woken from some kind of spell. As he stood there, a bit dazed, a murmur beside him caught his attention.
"Oh, look at the pattern when they're all standing together like that! Is it the blue lion? It must be! Such a lovely tribute."
Shiro looked and immediately teared up at the sight. He'd been so focused on Keith that he'd missed the way the constellation pattern formed the lion's tail and back legs stretching across Pidge's hem and pant legs, the haunches and body extending up Keith's chest and moving on across Hunk's, and finally the front legs and roaring lion's head on Lance's chest.
They held the position long enough for a myriad of recording devices to hover around them. Then, Keith stepped forward and began to speak.
"A little more than two deca-phoebs ago, Coalition allies came together to save the multiverses from certain destruction. Since then, our focus has shifted to rebuilding and renewing what the Empire destroyed. This work might not be as glamorous as multiverse-ending battles, but it's no less important. These past few quintants, we've done the necessary work to renew our commitment to helping others, and now, here on the home planet of two of Voltron's fallen paladins, I encourage you to remember that sense of unity as you go back to your compatriots and report on the good things the Coalition is doing - not just for your own worlds but for the whole universe. Together, we can make a better, brighter future for all."
Keith was stunning - a vision in red and black to be sure - but it was his passion that held sway over the crowd. His sharp voice and fierce face as he spoke left no doubt that he believed in the Coalition. The crowd burst into applause as Keith finished and the paladins parted to let Merla through, but Shiro couldn't keep his eyes off Keith.
His best friend.
The man who had saved him countless times and promised to keep saving him as many times as it took.
Matt was right. It was about damn time - time he stepped up and made sure Keith understood that he was a precious gift, no matter if he felt the same as Shiro romantically or not.
He blew out a quiet huff of laughter as he realized that, for the first time in a very long time, he was going to actually take Matt Holt's advice. Now, all he had to do was catch Keith's attention. Simple, right?
If only.