Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The worst part about saving the Universe wasn't the trauma or the renown. It wasn't the unrealistic expectations of others or even the politicking and diplomacy, though that ran a close second.

The worst part about saving the Universe was having to attend yet another fancy dress gala. Keith had attended one just before leaving for his phoebs-long relief mission, and now he was expected to show up at another? How many times did people need to dress up just to stand around and do nothing? Or worse yet, dance?

He wasn't even sure why Krolia and Kolivan insisted on him attending the boring parties anyway. He did all his talking during the miserably long, drawn-out diplomacy meetings that typically preceded the galas. At least those he understood, even if he desperately wished there were another way to secure the supplies for his missions. But the galas? He'd rather watch paint dry than make small talk with the same idiots who'd threatened to defund him in a meeting the quintant before.

And now, to top it all off, his friends wanted to take away his one saving grace in the whole ordeal.

"You can't wear your Blade uniform everywhere, Keith."

Keith scowled at Lance and took another bite of Hunk's amazing chocolate-orange cookies - or whatever the space equivalent to chocolate and oranges was. He didn't care much because, of course, they were amazing, even if they did amount to bribery cookies. Less than twenty doboshes back on the Atlas and his team was already hounding him.

Well, Hunk and Lance were hounding him. Pidge hadn't looked away from her laptop since they'd arrived in the kitchen. And Shiro... Keith wouldn't acknowledge the crushing disappointment sitting like a boulder on his chest that Shiro had missed his arrival. He reminded himself again how busy Shiro was these days and focused on Lance.

"I'm not wearing a tux," he warned, defiance lacing his tone. Lance opened his mouth, but Keith beat him to the punch. "Or a dress."

"For the last time, the altean formal robes are not dresses!" Lance squawked before blowing out a meditative breath and planting his hands on his hips. "And even if they were, what does it matter? What do you have against dresses?"

"They hinder mobility. How am I supposed to get a proper kick in with all that fabric in the way?"

"Buddy," Hunk said in a placating tone, "for one, let's consider that maybe - just maybe - you won't have to kick anyone at a gala. And two, you received the same message the rest of us did. It's the two-year anniversary, and the Coalition wants us to play up the paladin angle this time."

"Okay, fine. I'll wear my Garrison-issued paladin uniform."

Lance cried out in exasperation and draped himself over the table while Hunk just shook his head. A snort of amusement from the corner let Keith know that Pidge was tracking the conversation even if she wasn't participating.

"But it's such a good theme this time!" Lance moaned. "I have so many ideas."

Keith crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you trying to make this scenario less appealing?"

"This isn't just about you," Hunk reminded him. "We'll all be participating."

The hint of disappointment in Hunk's voice gutted Keith's defiance. He uncrossed his arms and sent his friend a pleading look.

"So... maybe we can all wear our paladin uniforms?"

That got a laugh out of Hunk. Lance, however, clapped his hands over his face and dragged his fingers down, his skin and lower lids stretching out in the process. Keith curled a lip at the grotesque effect. He opened his mouth to tell Lance how disgusting he looked, but the hard tap of Garrison-issued shoes echoing in the hallway snagged his attention.

The gait was a bit quicker than normal - almost a jog - but Keith would know that walk anywhere. He exhaled as the boulder on his chest lifted.

He grabbed the water pouch and drank deeply to clear away the cookie remnants from his mouth and then stood from where he'd been slouched over the kitchen table. As he smoothed down his senior blade sashes and passed a hand over his hair, Lance huffed out a little laugh. Keith's gaze darted away from the door to find Lance still sprawled over the table while biting his knuckle as if trying to hide a grin.

"What?" Keith growled. He hated it when he couldn't tell why people were laughing.

"Nothing! Just couldn't help but notice you suddenly seem to care an awful lot about your appearance. It's giving me ideas."

Keith frowned. He looked down at the stool he'd been sitting on a moment ago, and heat spread up the back of his neck as he realized what he'd done. He lost the thought a moment later, however, as Shiro appeared in the doorway with a smile as radiant as a supernova.

"Keith! I'm so sorry I missed your arrival." Shiro took a step forward, then hesitated. "It's good to have you back."

A half smile curved Keith's lips as he took a step forward. "Should I say 'it's good to be back'? I feel like it's kind of our thing."

At that, Shiro laughed and closed the distance between them. Keith absolutely did not sigh as Shiro wrapped his arms around him.

The hug ended almost before it began, and Keith's smile faded as he noticed a strange tension in Shiro's body before he pulled away. He looked closer at Shiro's face, but the man had perfected his professional mask before he and Keith even met. It hurt a little to know that Shiro had his mask up around them - around him - but Shiro rarely relaxed during the day. Only in the evenings, when he and Shiro would hang out in the private paladin lounge the Altas had made for them, would the Captain of the Atlas' mask drop to reveal the tired, goofy, beautiful Shiro that Keith knew and... well.

"Hey now. None of that."

Shiro reached forward as he spoke and smoothed his thumb over the furrow between Keith's brows, his fingertips resting lightly against Keith's cheek. Somewhere off to the side, Lance gagged. The sound of a hand smacking a skull came next, followed quickly by a whiney "hey!" from Lance. Keith noted it all as if from a distance while Shiro pulled his hand away and shoved it in his pocket.

"There," Shiro said in a somewhat stiff tone. "That's better."

Keith just nodded. He'd long ago given up on becoming immune to Shiro's touch, but he'd also given up hoping that Shiro might one day see him as more than that little kid he'd plucked out of obscurity and mentored through rough times. In spite of everything they'd been through - more than four years in space (six for him), the last two spent trying to rebuild a fraction of what Zarkon and Honerva had destroyed - Shiro still kept up that "appropriate" distance he'd cultivated between them before Kerberos. Keith had just turned twenty-four, but he might as well still be fourteen for all the good it did him.

He thought he'd broken through once... but he'd been mistaken. And he hadn't spent years in a group home learning to hide his emotions for nothing. So, he pretended Shiro's touch didn't make his heart pound and his palms sweat and gestured to the plate on the table beside them.

"Hunk made cookies."

"Arusian nabomite and polimote cookies!" Hunk chimed in.

"They taste like chocolate oranges," Keith explained.

Shiro hummed in interest and nodded as he reached for one of the bite-sized chunks. As soon as he popped it in his mouth, his brows hit the ceiling.

"Woah," he said through a half-full mouth. "Tha's good."

Hunk beamed, and Keith's grin returned. He found himself playing with the silken end of his braid where it hung over his shoulder, grasping and sliding the strands together between his fingers. He dropped his hand and looked away as Shiro swallowed the cookie and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Don't let the bridge crew find those," Shiro told Hunk. "They'll be gone in five ticks flat."

"Oh, don't worry. Thanks to Pidge's upgrades to my automated mixer" -At this, Pidge raised her hand to mime a high-five without looking away from her screen, and Hunk returned it from afar- "I made, like, twenty batches in no time. Plenty for everyone."

"Well, in that case..."

Shiro reached over to pick up the plate that had been Keith's allotted portion. Keith could get another batch from Hunk, though, so he said nothing and kept his gaze averted from the stretch of Shiro's uniform as he bent over the table. Keith knew all about self preservation after all.

"So, what were you guys talking about before I got here?" Shiro asked as he picked up another cookie. His voice turned a bit theatrical as he added, "Have you brought news from the far ends of the universe?"

Keith shook his head. "Nothing you haven't heard al-"

"We were discussing Keith's outfit for the gala," Lance cut in as he sidled up and locked an arm around Keith's neck.

"No, we-"

"Oh? Something different than your BoM uniform?"

Something about the way Shiro asked the question made the words of denial dry up on Keith's tongue before he could spit them out. "Uh..."

"Yes," Lance answered for him. "We're all going to wear something different for this gala."

Keith's mouth twisted into a grimace as he shoved Lance away. Undeterred, Lance moved to Shiro and leaned an elbow on his shoulder.

"Keith would look good in formal wear, don't you think? Sleek lines and maybe a bit of sparkle?"

"Of course," Shiro smiled, soft and fond. "But Keith would look good in anything."

Whether it was because of the silence that followed the statement or Keith's jaw dropping to the floor, a lovely shade of red spread up Shiro's neck to the tips of his ears. His gaze dropped to the floor and then... he laughed. When he looked up again, a familiar teasing grin lit up his face.

"Sorry, I just hear it all the time from pretty much everyone." Shiro shook his head and eyed the cookie in his hand before meeting Lance's and then Hunk's gaze. "Want to take a guess on how many times I've been asked if Keith is single... this week?"

"No way!" Lance blurted. "People wanna date mullet?"

"Way."

Shiro popped the cookie in his mouth and chewed happily as Lance and Hunk conjectured over who might be interested in the former Black Paladin. Keith, on the other hand, clenched his fists at his sides in a struggle to regain his balance. Shiro's comments had sent him on a roller coaster ride, lifting his hopes only to have them crash down again with a swiftness that left him breathless.

This was why he didn't let himself hope - too much of a chance for disappointment.

He jumped when a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey... sorry if that was out of line," Shiro said in a softer tone, his eyes - when Keith managed to meet them - full of concern. "I just thought you should know. You could pretty much date anyone you wanted. If... if you wanted."

Shiro cleared his throat and dropped his hand. Keith shook his head.

"I don't want." Keith closed his eyes tightly. "To date anyone, I mean. So, you can just... tell them I'm not interested. Or something."

Keith opened his eyes and wanted to close them again at the deepening concern in Shiro's expression. "You're sure?"

"Very."

A pink tongue flicked out of Shiro's mouth to wet his lower lip. It captured the entirety of Keith's attention and set his insides trembling, but he forced himself to refocus when those lips started moving again.

"Is there a reason you don't... um..." Shiro lifted his flesh hand, rubbed it over the back of his neck, and laughed again, this time with a hint of awkwardness. "I mean, it's not really my business, but you're amazing Keith. You deserve to be happy."

Keith frowned. "But I am happy?"

Shiro laughed more naturally this time. "Saying it like a question isn't helping your case."

Keith rolled his eyes and play-punched Shiro's shoulder to keep himself from doing something stupid like grabbing the front of Shiro's jacket and using his lips to show his best friend exactly why none of those other people stood a chance. Shiro took the jab with a smile that eased into a wide grin. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Lance chose that moment to stick his face between them.

"So, if all these people are asking about Keith, how come he doesn't know? Like, why aren't they asking him out?"

"Oh, they do," Hunk piped up as he pulled another batch of cookies from the oven. "Keith just turns them all down."

"What? That's not true. No one asks me out."

Hunk laughed. "Yes. They do."

"Okay, then give me an example."

"Most recently? Fifteen doboshes ago when Acxa asked if you wanted to grab dinner later."

"No. That's... Acxa and I aren't like that."

Keith reached up to rub at the end of his braid. The smooth slide soothed his turmoil a bit, but as he replayed the moment in his head, he saw why Hunk might have been confused.

"We're close. As in good friends. But she doesn't see me that way."

Hunk sighed as he walked over to join them with a fresh plate of cookies in hand. Lance looked like he was having some sort of melt down from thinking too hard, and Shiro...

Keith grit his teeth. "We're going to stop talking about this now, okay?"

Lance and Hunk shared a look and, to his surprise, both of them nodded. Shiro just watched him in that assessing way he had, as if looking for a chink in his armor. A shiver shot down his spine at having Shiro's gaze so fixated on him, and he fought off yet another wave of heat up the back of his neck.

Shiro's eyes suddenly unfocused. A moment later, he gave the group an apologetic smile.

"Atlas is reminding me that I'm about to be late for another meeting."

Lance waved him off. "No problem. You and Keith will be tied up with those diplomatic meetings for the next couple of quintants, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Shiro paused and glanced at Keith. "I was hoping we'd have a bit of time to enjoy Altea, but it looks like that will have to wait until after the gala. Maybe we could all do something together before our reunion dinner next movement?"

"Sounds good," Hunk said with a smile.

Shiro nodded and turned to go. As he reached the door, though, he paused to look over his shoulder and shot Keith a devastating grin.

"Can't wait to see what you come up with for the gala."

Well. Shit.

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.

Chapter Text

As the applause died down and Merla began to speak, Keith's attention wandered back to where he'd seen Shiro in the crowd. A shock of electricity fizzed up his spine when he found Shiro's soft gray eyes still locked on him, pinning him in place with the kind of focus usually reserved for battle - diplomatic or otherwise.

A second round of tingling heat crept up Keith's neck, and his lips twitched in a bewildered approximation of a smile. It must have looked convincing enough because Shiro's lips curved into a brilliant smile as well.

Did Shiro's expression seem softer? Had he ever looked at Keith like that before?

Was Keith just seeing what he wanted to see?

Yes.

His breath stuttered as his higher brain functions reminded him of what he already knew. Shiro would never see him that way. He curled his hands into fists and looked away.

Damn Lance and his insinuations that a silly outfit would catch Shiro's attention. Despite his better instincts, he'd allowed a seed of hope to take root, and now he would have to deal with the disappointment. Maybe he should-

A burst of applause broke through his spiraling thoughts. Before he could get his bearings, Lance linked their arms and dragged him into the crowd. Keith whipped his head around, searching for Shiro, but they'd already lost him in the crush of bodies. People murmured greetings all around him, and a few were foolish enough to touch him. Lucky for them, Lance tugged him away before he could throw hands.

"What are you doing?" Keith growled.

"Getting us drinks. And helping you play hard to get."

"What? Oh, no. No no no. Not happening, Lance."

Keith pulled away. Lance started yammering about giving his method a try, but Keith was already tuning him out in favor of zeroing in on Shiro's last known location. Because as weak as he felt right now, he didn't think he'd survive being bait for a trap Shiro would never understand let alone fall for.

Before Keith could escape Lance's clutches, however, the representative from planet Pollux, a being named Avok, glided into his path. Physically, the Polluxians shared many features with humans and alteans, though they tended to be much thinner - waifish, some called them - and their skin sparkled with jewel tones as if they'd been dipped in a vat of Lance's body shimmer lotion. Avok's skin glowed with an emerald sheen, and his dark green robes only added to the effect. Keith bowed and offered a hand to the representative as he'd been taught.

"Good evening, Representative Avok."

"How dashing you all look tonight!" Avok exclaimed as he took Keith's hand and returned the bow. "I'm quite taken with all of you, though I must say you look particularly stunning this evening, Senior Blade Keith."

"Oh, um. Thanks. You, too."

Despite Keith's awkwardness, Avok let loose a brilliant smile. "Thank you! I've always loved wearing these robes - so smooth and silky." Avok stepped a bit closer and smiled in a strange way. "I enjoy getting out of them at the end of a long night even more."

Thinking of the way he and Shiro would slip away from events and immediately change into more comfortable clothing, Keith nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

Beside him, Lance choked. Keith turned to give him a dirty look, but Lance's wide eyes gave him pause. He sent Lance a "what?" look. Lance countered with his oft-used "you couldn't be more clueless if you tried" eye roll. Keith blinked and replayed the conversation in his head and-

"Oh my god," he breathed, his mouth dropping open.

"Am I interrupting something?" Avok intoned sweetly.

"Nope," Lance said, popping the P as he pushed Keith a step closer. "And speaking of stunning things, Keith here was just saying how much he'd love to dance tonight. Isn't that right?"

"Wha..."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Avok purred.

And so, Keith's fate was sealed, though he managed to pin Lance with an "I'll be planning my revenge" look as he led Avok toward the dance floor. Typically, Keith avoided dancing as much as possible at these events - going so far as to engage his mask to throw people off - but Krolia had convinced him to learn the most popular formations anyway, equating dancing to a diplomatic version of sparring. The comparison made sense in a weird way, so Keith had gone along with it.

Now, he wished he'd put up more of a fight. At least the current song only called for generic steps similar to a waltz. Keith took Avok's hand and stepped into the crush of whirling bodies with confidence. Avok pushed closer than necessary, but the music was soft enough that they didn't have to lean close to hear one another. Remembering Avok's earlier innuendo, Keith kept his answers vague and his posture stiff. They ended the dance with Keith assuring Avok that Lance would be delighted to dance with him as well.

He breathed a sigh of relief at being free and looked around for Shiro. His heart gave a painful thud when he caught sight of Shiro looking his way across the dance floor. Keith lifted a hand in greeting. Shiro's face lit up as he waved back and, to Keith's surprise, started moving toward him. Keith took a step forward as well... and almost stepped on another dignitary asking him to dance.

And then another.

And another.

Diplomats, ambassadors, political leaders, and celebrities crowded around him to talk or offer a drink or ask for a dance. Keith shuffled through them as best he could, only drinking a fraction of what was offered and only dancing with people he knew he couldn't afford to slight, but he quickly reached his limit of social interaction.

He managed to trade glances with Shiro a few times as he swapped partners. Each time, Shiro's frown had deepened, and it only added to Keith's mounting frustration. He couldn't get away long enough to even say hello, let alone fix whatever was upsetting Shiro.

He cursed Lance a thousand times over as he dodged another greeting, used his stealth skills to slink to a portion of the bar partially obscured by draping fabric, and waved down the bartender. He slid onto a stool and curled in on himself, hoping the dark corner might give him a few doboshes of reprieve from the crowds.

Unfortunately, there was no reprieve from his own dour thoughts, and he cursed himself a thousand times for listening to Lance in the first place. He'd been fine before. He'd accepted that romantic love wasn't possible and always enjoyed his and Shiro's time together to the fullest. But Lance had insisted a new look would make Shiro see that Keith wasn't that kid from the Garrison anymore.

At that suggestion, Keith's subconscious had run away into dreamland before he could stop it, building up castles in the sky where he and Shiro ended an evening curled up together in bed instead of giving bro hugs and heading to their lonely beds. Not that Shiro's bed was probably lonely, but Keith couldn't afford to think about that with his thoughts already so low.

So much for those castles in the sky.

But he shouldn't complain. He and Shiro shared a bond that no one else could touch. Since they'd hashed things out last deca-phoeb, they spent almost all their free time together and rarely went a day without at least messaging back and forth. If Keith was on a mission with no contact, he'd come back to a slew of daily updates from Shiro. When they were both on the Atlas or attending an on-planet diplomatic event like this one, they spent their free hours sparring or hoverbiking or lounging and watching vids.

One question haunted Keith, though, and not just because that nascent seed of hope would shrivel into dust: What happened when Shiro found someone he could love in a romantic way?

It was only a matter of time. Shiro the hero, captain of the Atlas and all around amazing man, wouldn't be single forever. Keith knew he wouldn't lose Shiro - their bond was too strong for that - but he would have to step aside nonetheless. He would do it willingingly and with joy if it meant Shiro would be happy, but the idea of missing out on even a single tick of their time together made his chest ache. He wanted...

He wanted the impossible.

The bartender interrupted his spiral with a large glass of water, and Keith murmured a breathless thank you before downing the glass. He then requested a shot of a particularly strong galran liquor. He had a great tolerance for human and altean liquors, but galran liquor could flatten him within a couple of shots. He needed something to dull the ache in his chest and loosen him up to endure the rest of the night.

The shot appeared before him, and Keith threw it back, hissing as the fiery liquid burned his throat and spread like warm honey through his gut. A glance at his wrist cuff deepened the ache as he realized it was past time Shiro usually left these types of events. Normally, Keith would be right behind him out the door, but with the way Lance had set him up tonight...

"Ah, here you are! I'd love a moment of your time if you please."

Long blue fingers curled around Keith's shoulder, and he reflexively clenched his hands into fists on the bartop. He gritted his teeth, pulled in a deep breath through his nose, and reminded himself how disappointed his mother would be if he instigated a diplomatic incident. Exhaling a shaky breath, Keith readied himself to turn around when another voice cut through the noise as if in answer to his unsent distress signal.

"Excuse me, Representative Taoel'ah, but I believe Senior Blade Keith promised me this dance."

Keith whirled around, and his mouth dropped open at the sight of Shiro bowing before him and extending his hand. He looked like some kind of damned fairy tale prince, and his expression reflected a fierceness Keith had rarely seen in him since peace had been declared in the universe. It sent his pulse racing.

"Oh, of course!" Taoel'ah said in a jovial tone, his hands crossing over his chest as a sign of no ill intent. "Perhaps another time."

The giant diplomat lumbered off, but Keith barely noticed. He reached out for Shiro's hand before it occurred to him that Shiro had likely only offered to give Keith an out with the diplomat. He paused, and Shiro's smile faded.

"You don't have to," Shiro said in his special way that made Keith want to melt. "I just wanted to... to maybe steal a bit of your time? You've been difficult to pin down tonight."

Relief flooded through Keith, and he slipped off the stool to take Shiro's hand. "Stars above, yes. Steal all my time. I might punch someone if you don't."

A huff of laughter parted beautiful lips as he pulled at Keith's hand and led them to the dance floor. Keith tried not to have a heart attack when Shiro's fingers curled more firmly around his hand. He'd walked to the dance floor with countless others tonight, holding their hands and dancing closer than necessary, but none of them made him feel weightless like Shiro.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Keith asked as familiar doubt crept into his initial relief. "You're breaking a pretty widely known 'no dance' policy right now. What'll you do when they all want to dance with you, too?"

"I'll tell them I only dance with you, of course."

The weightlessness transformed into lightheadedness. This couldn't be happening. Yet there Shiro stood, his eyes gleaming like liquid mercury, his smile sharp as a knife. It cut Keith to the quick. Shiro pulled him in as they reached the dance floor, and Keith was helpless to follow.

"Mind if I lead?" Shiro asked.

Keith shook his head, mute from the fatigue of making small talk with countless people as well as the prospect of actually dancing with Shiro. He kept his eyes fixed on Shiro's chin while he placed his hands and body in the proper position. Shiro, however, pulled him much closer than the standard form, his prosthetic hand coming to rest not at Keith's hip but over the small of his back. The coolness of the metal seeped through Keith's thin shirt and kissed his overheated skin. He shivered and tried not to think about the size of that hand and how easy it would be to-

"Ready?" Shiro asked.

The hesitance in that one word drew Keith's gaze up to find Shiro looking at him with concern. Straightening his shoulders, Keith chastised himself for acting weird. It was just a dance. Nothing to get worked up about... even if he hadn't ever danced with Shiro before.

"Let's show 'em how it's done," he said with more confidence than he felt.

Shiro's concern faded back into that strangely focused look from earlier as he pulled Keith into another simple waltz. They moved in graceful circles around the dance floor, careful to step around smaller people and dodge larger people also enjoying the dance, and Keith relaxed into the motions. Shiro made it so easy to be in the moment, his movements sure and his presence as calming as ever.

"You're good at this," Keith murmured.

For some reason, Shiro blushed. "Thank you. But you're far more graceful than I'll ever be."

Keith shrugged. "Mom made me practice until I had all the main dances memorized. I can't do any of the more obscure stuff, which is good because those dances are the only time I got a break all night."

The concern crept back into Shiro's expression. "You didn't have to dance with me, too, if you're too tired."

"You're the one person I..." Keith trailed off, his chest pulsing with heat as he glanced to the side, swallowed back the too-honest words, and instead finished with a lame, "It's different when it's you."

The heat spread up his neck as he realized that was probably too honest as well. He reconsidered, though, when the words drew out Shiro's smile. They took a few more turns around the dance floor, and Keith's embarrassment waned.

"You're here later than usual tonight," Keith said, more to Shiro's ear than to his face as they swayed closer.

"I couldn't miss dancing with the most popular man of the evening."

Keith snorted. "Yeah, I'm still plotting my revenge on Lance for putting me through all this."

"I'm surprised you did it at all, honestly."

Keith bit his lip and debated his answer, but he'd used up most of his brain power on the diplomats and so settled for the truth. "They wanted to do a tribute to Allura and... you know... you said you were looking forward to seeing what we came up with."

Shiro's shoulders tensed. Anxiety spiked under Keith's skin, goosebumps flooding his chest and arms. Shiro pulled back a little, but Keith had to brace himself before daring to look up.

Shiro's expression was something Keith had never seen before. Soft and yet concerned. Fond and yet hesitant. He seemed to be scanning Keith's face, searching for something, though Keith couldn't guess what. Finally, Keith shrugged, looked down, waited for Shiro to figure it out and let him down gently.

Instead, Shiro's hand on his lower back trembled a moment before pressing him closer. Keith lost his breath as Shiro's metal fingers dipped lower, his pinky sweeping down over the thin fabric until it found one of the divots in Keith's lower back, slid into the depression, and anchored there. Shiro's breath fanned over Keith's cheek, warm and enticing, and Keith's body blazed with want.

He shoved it down. A close dance didn't mean anything. He'd danced with a dozen people tonight, and none of them meant a thing to him. As difficult as it was with Shiro's closeness, he forced his body to calm down and simply enjoy the moment.

Eventually, the mental exhaustion of the evening, the shot of galran liquor, and Shiro's magnetic presence worked together to lull him into a half daze. Keith's eyelids drooped until they fell shut completely. He focused on the points of contact: Shiro's warm hand cradling his palm as if it were a precious thing; Shiro's broad hand spanning his lower back in a way Keith knew would haunt his dreams; and then, after a few more whirls around the dance floor, he added Shiro's jaw pressing against his temple, the searing heat of his skin a brand Keith was happy to bear.

"Shiro," he breathed without thought or reason. In truth, he simply loved the taste of Shiro's name on his tongue, the way the vowels and consonants rolled through his mouth. "Shiro" meant acceptance and joy and home. Even if this was as close as they ever got, it would be enough if he could just speak Shiro's name, see the light in Shiro's eyes as he won in a sparring match, or watch the sunset reflected in Shiro's starlight hair.

One song faded into the next and the next, but Shiro never altered their dance, moving with precise movements, always right on beat. Several people attempted to cut in, but Shiro politely turned them away, as if sensing that Keith wasn't quite himself at the moment. He could only be grateful in a nebulous way as Shiro carried him along with the music like a mighty river current carried along a bit of driftwood.

"Keith?"

Shiro's breath trembled over Keith's ear, and Keith shivered. Realizing the tone indicated a question, he hummed an approximation of an answering query. Shiro's laugh ruffled his hair.

"Think we can sneak out of here without anyone noticing?"

Keith blinked his eyes open at that, taking in the dance floor and surrounding areas, both filled with people. He frowned as his brain launched into working through the logistics of getting two well-known people out of the room without getting caught. It took a few ticks, therefore, for him to realize that, at some point during their multiple dances, he'd plastered himself to Shiro's front. His cheeks flamed, and he immediately stepped back to a more appropriate distance. He regretted that even more, though, because it allowed Shiro to see his flushed face. Keith cleared his throat and pretended to be unaffected anyway.

"S'that a challenge?"

Shiro stepped back into Keith's space, closing much of the distance Keith had put between them to murmur in Keith's ear. "Sort of, though I have an idea. Trust me?"

As if he needed to ask. "Always."

Shiro pulled back just far enough to let Keith see his soft smile. Then, he made a subtle change to their movements. Keith followed along, letting the music and the movement wash over him, though he was too aware of Shiro now to let the atmosphere overtake him again. Heat flooded his body as he remembered the warm press of Shiro's chest against his own. Had he been the one to close that distance in his haziness? Or had Shiro pulled them together?

He wished he hadn't let his guard down quite so much. He wished he'd been paying more attention.

As they continued to dance, Keith noticed that Shiro was slowly moving them toward the far wall where the band had set up. A smile unfurled on his lips as Shiro's plan became clear. He relaxed further as his freedom - thick layers of fabric that covered that end of the room and hid a side exit from the ballroom - came ever nearer.

When they reached the edge of the dance floor, Shiro's movements slowed. He pressed against Keith's lower back, encouraging Keith to lean against him again. Keith's breath caught at the gentle touch, and his heart pounded into overdrive as their chests pressed together. The ridges of Shiro's uniform slid over Keith's silky shirt, and he mourned that he'd been too dazed through most of their earlier dances to appreciate the textures and sensations. He gave in and rested his temple once more against Shiro's cheek.

He wasn't imagining that soft sigh ruffling through his hair... was he?

"The fabric extends from the wall about four feet to form a path for the musicians to come and go when needed," Shiro whispered in Keith's ear, the glancing brush of lips over the shell of his ear making him shudder and struggle to pay attention. "Once we've slowed down enough, we should be able to pass through the fabric without much notice. We'll be free and clear after that."

Keith nodded, but in truth, he didn't mind the gala so much anymore. When they left, they would go back to being best friends who stayed an appropriate distance apart, but here on the dance floor, he could pretend for a moment that they were more, that they always saved all their dances for each other, that the moments of closeness here were only precursors to passionate kisses that would come later in the privacy of their shared quarters.

In the semi-darkness of the ballroom, it almost felt true.

"Okay," Shiro murmured, "when this song winds down and people start heading off the dance floor, we'll slip through the partition."

As the last notes died out, however, a commotion on the opposite side of the room caught their notice. Keith pulled back in confusion... until Coran's voice rose above the noise of the ballroom asking for everyone's attention. Shiro jostled Keith.

"Now's our chance!"

Keith blinked at him... and then grinned. They made a silent break for it, slipping through the layers of black fabric while everyone else looked in the opposite direction.

And the seed of hope grew stronger, digging roots into his heart and unfurling in his chest like a delicate flower, when Shiro held tightly to his hand as they ran through the darkened passage... and didn't let go.

Chapter Text

Shiro's cheeks ached from smiling so wide. He glanced over his shoulder to find an echoing grin on Keith's lips, and his chest expanded with pure joy. Keith's gaze swept past Shiro to the door waiting at the end of the dimly-lit passage, and the spark in his eyes revealed he was just as eager to escape the evening's formalities as Shiro.

He should probably let go of Keith's hand, but the way Keith had leaned into him while they danced, going soft and pliant as he whispered Shiro's name in dreamlike tones... Shiro couldn't get it out of his head. Those precious moments had given him the last bit of courage - of hope - he needed to follow through on his plans, so he held on tight and sent up a prayer to the universe that he wasn't too late.

They slowed down as they approached the exit, and Shiro carefully pressed the mechanical release. The door slid open without a sound. They breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief and then struggled to hold back laughter as they raced into the warm night air. Keeping a hold of Keith's hand, Shiro led the way across the balcony, down a set of stairs, and into one of the many gardens surrounding the castle. The winding paths demanded either daylight or a slower pace, so as the vegetation rose up on both sides to shield them from prying eyes, they fell into a walk. Dense foliage absorbed the harsh edges of their elevated breathing, and Shiro caught Keith's breathy chuckle. He hummed in wordless inquiry.

"This feels a little bit like that first time you took me up on the Garrison roof to watch the stars," Keith explained. "I thought for sure we were gonna get caught."

Shiro gasped in mock offense. "So little faith!"

Keith bit his lip, likely to hold back another laugh, and a surge of affection joined with the joy filling Shiro's chest to bursting.

"It's less about faith and more a hold-over from when I'd get in trouble for every little thing, whether I actually did it or not. You were the first person to really give a damn about me after Pop-" Keith cut off and shook his head. "But you know all this."

"And you know that just because I was the first," - he jostled Keith's hand as they walked to emphasize his point - "it doesn't mean you weren't worth the effort all along. All those other people were just jerks."

Keith laughed, and Shiro's breath caught at the joy written into the soft lines of his face.

Shiro had spent the last varga fluctuating between the soul-recharging calm he always felt around his best friend and a painful awareness of everything Keith - the way his hair smelled like Garrison-issued shampoo, his warm breath against Shiro's neck, his solid back muscles under Shiro's fingers as they glided along to the the music. Usually, he kept his distance from Keith to prevent himself from getting lost in such things. But after being so close tonight, feeling the way Keith molded to him, and hearing that soft whisper of his name, Shiro knew he couldn't just ask Keith out on a casual date.

There was too much history between them for coyness. He loved Keith, and Keith deserved to know it, even if he didn't feel the same in return.

The tiny lights strung overhead to illuminate the garden path reflected like starlight in Keith's eyes, and Shiro was struck through the heart. Surely his adoration was written all over his face, plain for Keith to see?

But Keith just kept walking, his gaze flicking around them at the various plants and flowers encroaching on their path. Shiro argued with himself about whether to release Keith's hand. He settled on keeping his grip loose so Keith could drop the connection if he wanted.

Instead, Keith curled his fingers more firmly around Shiro's palm. Taking it as a sign, Shiro firmed his grip as well, his heart pounding at the realization that he was walking through a romantic, fairy-lit garden while holding the hand of the man he loved. He eased out a quiet, tremulous breath and slowed his walk to a stroll. Keith matched his pace. When Shiro took a turn that would lead them into the more expansive outer gardens instead of their rooms, he heard Keith draw in a breath.

"Is it okay if we walk for a bit?" Shiro asked, suddenly feeling unsure. "I know you've been back a few quintants now, but with everything going on, we haven't had a chance to spend any time together."

"Yeah. Of course." There was another breath and a squeeze of Shiro's palm before he added in a softer voice, "You know I'd go anywhere with you."

Wild joy sparked like lightning down his arm and chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "Yeah," he breathed, "it's the same for me. You know that right?"

Keith exhaled something between a gasp and a laugh. "Wouldn't that be something?"

"Hmm?"

"The Captain of the Atlas and the leader of the Blade of Marmora relief efforts taking off into the skies without a backward glance."

"Catch me on the right day, and I'd be more than willing to see how far we could get before they came after us."

Keith laughed louder this time, and Shiro couldn't help laughing along with him. It always felt like that around Keith, though. The joy was infectious. The longing sigh was halfway out his lips before he could stop it.

"That bad, huh?" Keith asked, a note of concern coloring his tone.

"Not really," Shiro said as he scrounged for an excuse. "It's... uh... it's just that I'm more of a diplomat than a Captain a lot of the time. You know how that feels."

"Yeah, in all those pep talks you gave me, you never mentioned all the boring stuff that goes into being a leader."

Keith smirked, and Shiro's thoughts evaporated like morning dew in the desert sun. Their gazes locked. Keith blinked, and his smirk faded into a hesitant, questioning look. Shiro cleared his throat as he scrambled to remember what they'd been talking about.

"It can be boring," he said with a shrug, "but I can do a lot of good in my position. And I can find my own fun in my off hours. Speaking of which, will you be around this movement?"

"Mom's leaving for a meeting on Daibazaal tomorrow, but I'm sticking around until the reunion dinner. Why?"

"I've given the Atlas crew rotating shore leave for the movement, so I thought you and I could take some time to explore more of Altea. It's been a while since we went riding together."

Keith snorted. "You're on. I'm always in the mood to kick your ass."

Shiro laughed. "Just you wait. I'll make you eat those words while you're eating my dust."

"Big talk for a report-pushing diplomat."

Shiro laughed, as was no doubt Keith's intent. "That's captain to you!"

"Yes, Captain," Keith snarked. "Of course, Captain. Don't demote me, Captain."

Shiro ignored the unexpected shiver of pleasure snaking down his spine and sent his prosthetic around to pinch Keith's side. Keith yelped and danced away from Shiro's metal fingers, but he clung to Shiro's other hand, almost as if he couldn't bear to let go. Yet another pulse of joy left Shiro breathless.

"Not fair!" Keith cried as he swatted at Shiro's arm.

"I don't take insubordination lightly."

"I'm not even on your crew anymore, you cheater!"

Shiro surrendered, pulling his arm back to his side and tugging at Keith's hand to pull him close once more. Keith seemed more than willing to comply, taking up the space right next to Shiro like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to walk hand-in-hand through a lush garden of fragrant flowers and trees.

"We can pack a lunch and make a full day of it if you want, though..."

Shiro paused and bit his lip, unsure how to proceed. Keith appreciated straightforwardness, but a simple declaration didn't seem like enough to convey all the things he felt for Keith.

Then again, if he'd been reading things wrong tonight, he didn't want to make it awkward. A few simple words could be easily minimized and brushed aside for Keith's sake - no matter how a rejection would devastate Shiro on the inside.

"Though...?" Keith prompted.

Shiro glanced over, appreciating yet again the way the shimmering black and red fabric highlighted Keith's compact strength. He'd been in agony all night watching everyone else monopolize Keith's time. He hadn't been lying when he'd said Keith had been difficult to pin down. Every time he thought he might get a chance to step in, someone else would steal Keith away.

He'd been startled by how much it bothered him. Since realizing the depth of his feelings, his jealousy had become a raging beast, and when Keith glided past him in someone else's arms, the beast snarled and thrashed, threatening to break free of Shiro's tight control.

No, he needed to do this right. Even if Keith rejected him romantically, it wouldn't change how much he loved Keith as a friend. He could work through his disappointment on his own time while Keith was away on missions. But if Matt was right...

He took a deep breath and pulled Keith to a stop underneath a glittering tree that hung over the path and reminded Shiro of a weeping willow, though the branches surrounding them were covered in pale lavender flowers. A sweet scent filled his nose as his breathing kicked up a notch, though he did his best to keep his nervousness contained.

"Though you may change your mind after hearing what I'm about to say," Shiro finally finished.

Keith gazed up at him with a confused yet curious expression - so trusting. The lights strung between the flowers above lent his pale skin a warm glow, and Shiro nearly lost his words at the sheer beauty of the man before him.

This was it. The moment of truth. He swallowed, the sound loud in his ears as the enormity of what he was about to do broke over him like a tsunami. He exhaled a harsh breath and took hold of Keith's other hand. Keith's eyes widened. He looked down at their joined hands and then back up.

"Shiro?"

The tentative note in Keith's voice solidified Shiro's resolve. He straightened his shoulders and opened his heart, letting words flow out of the deep well of love he'd kept hidden up to now.

"We've been through a lot, you and me. From those early days at the Garrison to saving the multiverse, it feels like we've gone through more than our fair share of challenges."

"We got through them together," Keith pointed out with a fond smile.

Shiro nodded. "We did. And through it all, it's been a privilege to watch you come into your own. From our very first meeting, your potential for greatness shined through."

"And my potential for delinquency."

Keith waggled his brows, and Shiro couldn't help laughing. "You just needed someone to teach you to be sneaky about it."

"I had the best teacher," Keith agreed with a sage nod of his head.

Some of Shiro's tension fell away with their easy banter. Keith had obviously sensed his distress and was trying to diffuse it, but he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. He jostled their hands between them and adopted a serious expression as he looked Keith in the eye.

"But you were also smart and savvy on top of all that raw talent. I knew you'd do amazing things." He paused to smile at the way Keith's face softened. "Finding the lions proved me right. You stepped up like I knew you would, and when I... came back from the astral plane, you were stronger and more confident than ever. Our fight for Earth and then against Honerva just solidified what I already knew."

Shiro couldn't hide his breathlessness anymore. He let out a trembling sigh and looked down as he cleared his throat. Keith's finger's tightened around his, and he grimaced as he realized his palm was sweating.

"Shiro... what's this about? You're kind of freaking me out."

The tremor in Keith's voice drew Shiro's gaze up again. His soft expression had faded into concern, and Shiro shook his head in frustration.

"Sorry. I'm rambling. What I mean is... seeing you grow into the man you are now has been a revelation. You are a revelation. You go on dangerous missions not for glory but to protect innocents and bring supplies to those in need. You sit through long meetings with people who test your patience at every turn for the aid they can provide to others. And you don't even realize how amazing it is. I'm in awe of you Keith, and with each passing deca-phoeb, I've only grown more impressed by your compassion and selflessness and..." Shiro took courage from the reappearance of Keith's soft smile and barrelled ahead. "And recently, I've realized something - something I didn't tell you during our talk last deca-phoeb because... because it still felt so new to me that I didn't know how to say it... or even if I should say it after everything that's happened between us."

Shiro bit his lip as Keith's mouth dropped open, his expression a charming mix of confusion and... was that hope? He let go of Keith's hand to skim the backs of his fingers down the pale pink scar on Keith's cheek - evidence of Honvera's cruelty but also of Keith's devotion. Keith's eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him in a gust, and Shiro swayed forward until their foreheads touched.

"Like you said, though, we got through it together. We're stronger together. I can't imagine my life without you, Keith, and I'm hoping... What I'm trying to say..." He huffed out a wry laugh and closed his eyes. Just spit it out, you coward. "What I'm trying to say is... I've fallen in love with you, Keith."

Keith gasped, his fingers squeezing Shiro's metal hand in a grip so tight it activated his pain receptors. Shiro licked his lips, his whole body shaking with anticipation. Silence built between them, and his heart twisted as the first tendrils of doubt crawled through his mind. He swallowed hard and braced himself for the worst as he pulled back to see Keith's expression.

Wide eyes and a gaping mouth greeted him, Keith's face almost comical in his shock. And yet nothing about it was funny to Shiro at all. His throat tightened, and a wave of nausea rolled through his gut.

Damage control. He needed to do damage control.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," he blurted. "I mean. Obviously. I just thought you should kn-"

Shiro cut off with a gasp as Keith's soft-but-slightly-chapped lips crashed into his. The kiss was fleeting, giving Shiro no time to react before those perfect lips parted from his, but his whole body lit up like the sun anyway. Keith pulled away, his eyes closed, and whispered into the scant inches between them.

"That's how I feel. How I've always felt. But... Shiro... are you sure?"

Keith opened his eyes, and the uncertainty still floating in nebulous depths spurred Shiro into action. Blood roared through his ears, and his hand trembled as he cupped Keith's scarred jaw.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he whispered before leaning in for a proper kiss.

Instead of crashing together, though, he brushed his mouth over Keith's, holding himself back so he could savor the moment. His lips tingled with each soft touch, electricity crackling over his nerves and down his spine, sending pulses of pleasure through every cell of his body. Keith, clearly not content with Shiro's slow pace, reached up to grab a fist full of Shiro's jacket and pulled him closer. Shiro smiled against Keith's mouth and obeyed the unspoken command, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Then Keith whimpered - a vocal sigh in the back of his throat - and Shiro was lost.

He kneaded his fingers into the soft skin behind Keith's ear and nudged Keith's jaw down with a press of his thumb. As he'd hoped, Keith's lips parted, and Shiro's world became a wealth of new sensations - the brush of Keith's tongue, the taste of alcohol, both fruity and astringent, and a spicy sweet flavor that could only be Keith.

He was instantly addicted.

He let go of Keith's hand only to catch him around the waist, pressing high-tech fingers against the thin scrap of fabric separating him from Keith's warm skin. As he kneaded Keith's back, dipping lower to find those delicious dimples he'd discovered during their dance, Keith slid his arms up and around Shiro's neck. Their bodies pressed together from lips to knees, sending a rush of heat downward.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Shiro murmured between their heated kisses, "to see what was in front of me all this time."

"Shiro," Keith replied in a mildly chastisting tone, his lips moving over Shiro's as he spoke, "don't say that. We're here now. That's all that matters."

Tears gathered in Shiro's eyes from the sheer disbelief and joy of the moment. He dragged his lips from Keith's mouth only to press a kiss to his cheek, to the space between his brows, to the tip of his nose. Keith's lips curved into a delighted smile.

"Say it again," he breathed.

Shiro pressed another kiss to his lips before whispering against them, "I love you. I didn't know it was possible to love someone like this."

"I love you, too. So much."

Shiro lit up with pure joy at hearing Keith utter those precious words back to him. Matt was going to be so damn smug, but Shiro didn't care at all. Keith loved him. That was worth enduring anything the universe could throw at him.

"I can't believe..." Keith continued as he shuddered out a laugh. Tears formed glistening pools in his eyes, and he pressed his face into Shiro's neck. "I've dreamed about this a lot. Part of me thinks I'm going to wake up, and it's all going to be another dream.

"If it's a dream," Shiro said with a soft kiss to Keith's temple, "I hope we get to stay here forever."

Keith half laughed and half groaned as he squeezed Shiro around the neck. "I can't believe I'm swooning over such a sappy line."

"I can't believe it either, but you do realize I'm going to keep being sappy for as long as it works, right?"

Keith groaned again as he pulled back, but his face glowed with joy, the lights sparkling in his watery eyes. Shiro couldn't resist dipping down to taste those upturned lips again. And again. Yet it never seemed to be enough.

Voices in the distance finally broke them apart, and Shiro blushed as he realized he'd slipped his metal fingers under the hem of Keith's shirt. Heated skin felt like velvet under his touch, and he hastily removed his hand and smoothed down the fabric before he could get carried away. Instead, he took a small step back and offered Keith his hand.

"Shall we abide by tradition?"

The shy-but-pleased expression that bloomed on Keith's face was new to Shiro and something he could very much get used to. "Comfy clothes and vids? Sounds perfect. Though I might suggest a few additions to the routine."

"Yes. To all of them."

Keith laughed and grabbed Shiro's hand, pulling him along the path toward the paladin guest suite. "You don't even know what they are."

"Hmmm... I'm going to guess... kissing?" Shiro asked in a hopeful tone.

"Definitely."

"Gazing longingly into each other's eyes?"

Keith snorted. "Probably. Because I'm apparently sappy, too." He poked a finger into Shiro's chest. "But just for you, understand?"

Shiro grinned and pulled Keith's hand to his mouth to place a soft kiss on his knuckles. "Got it."

He released Keith's hand to wrap an arm around his waist instead. Keith tucked himself into Shiro's side and hugged him around the middle. They strolled along the paths in comfortable silence, and though Shiro couldn't guess Keith's thoughts, his own were still half entrenched in disbelief.

It all felt too good. Too... easy. But perhaps they'd already gone through the difficult part just getting here? Perhaps things really could be as simple as continuing on as they always had, now as best friends and lovers.

Shiro trembled at the thought of deepening their intimacy on a physical level. He wanted it, but he also didn't want to pressure Keith. It was one reason he'd suggested starting with a vid night. If things progressed from there, well...

Keith squeezed Shiro's middle and looked up, a wide smile still gracing his lips. Shiro pressed a kiss to his forehead, awestruck by the way things had shifted so easily between them even as his heart still pounded from their closeness. He had Keith in his arms, and Keith was smiling.

And Keith loved him.

Nothing in the universe could compare to that.

Chapter Text

Keith held tight to Shiro as they wound around the last few curves to the guest quarters, his mind a jumble of exhilaration and disbelief. When Shiro had kept a hold of his hand as they walked through the garden, Keith had hoped Shiro had finally begun to see him as more than a friend. But for Shiro to already be in love with him? He couldn't fathom it.

Yet, in hindsight, some of Shiro's recent quirks made more sense. His tense hugs, lingering looks, and tentative touches to Keith's face or hair all seemed obvious when looking through the lens of Shiro's declaration.

Even with Shiro's assurances, though, it still felt like a dream, and he was terrified of waking up.

Shiro squeezed him tighter as they entered the first floor of the guest quarters, and Keith revelled in the way their bodies pressed together, even if it made it more difficult to walk down the hallway leading to the paladin suite. Coran had designed the suite based on the original castle ship, giving them a central common area complete with a U-shaped couch and five separate rooms for each of the paladins. Usually Matt, Acxa, or another of the paladins' family or friends took the fifth room because Shiro preferred to have a private space. Or at least that's what Keith had always assumed. Now, he wasn't sure.

When they reached the door, Shiro paused and gestured back the way they'd come. "I just need to go back to my room and change."

"If you stayed with us in the paladin suite, you'd already be there," Keith teased, raising his brow in challenge.

He still hadn't let go of Shiro's waist. Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders and returned the challenging look.

"Maybe I will from now on."

Keith pressed his lips together and debated asking the question. In the end, he couldn't deny his curiosity.

"Why haven't you before?"

"It's... complicated," Shiro said with a soft sigh. "At first it was because I didn't trust myself around you."

"Shiro-"

"And then it was because I didn't trust myself around you."

The suggestive tone derailed Keith's protest and introduced a host of new ideas to his already overactive imagination. Keith shivered and squeezed Shiro's waist tighter.

"In that case, maybe we should stay in your room from now on."

Shiro's eyes darkened, and he leaned closer so his lips almost brushed over Keith's as he spoke. "As long as we're together, the location doesn't matter to me."

Keith melted at that and closed the distance between them to press a heated kiss to Shiro's willing mouth. His heart kicked into a gallop, that fearful part of him still waiting for Shiro to pull away, to say he'd changed his mind, or maybe to dissolve into pale morning light, an empty bed, and an aching heart as he had so many times before.

So Keith held tight and kissed Shiro with all the passion he'd kept locked away for years. The first time Shiro attempted to pull away, he came right back, his breath coming in uneven puffs over Keith's lips before he claimed them again. The second time, he backed up several steps, still holding to Keith's hand, but when their fingers threatened to break apart, he darted back in to steal another kiss. When he finally backed away from Keith, their fingers slipping apart, their heavy breaths the only sound in the deserted hall, his expression twisted as if the distance between them physically pained him.

"I'll be back so fast you'll barely notice I'm gone."

Keith wondered if Shiro said it more for his own benefit or Keith's. He smiled and nodded and forced himself to stay put as Shiro backed all the way down the hall, paused to wave, and then disappeared around the corner. Keith held his breath... and then huffed a laugh at the hard thud of Shiro's shoes as he ran down the hall, audible even over the roar of blood in Keith's ears.

He ran to his own room feeling like he was floating in zero gravity. He couldn't stop smiling, and the unfamiliar giddiness that had overwhelmed him when Shiro made his unbelievable declaration only increased with every kiss they shared. He'd never felt anything like it before, but he already couldn't imagine living without it.

Shiro loved him.

Keith flopped face down on his bed and yelled into the pillow to release some of the pent up energy squirming in his belly. Once he'd run out of air, he stood and carefully stripped out of the costume Lance coaxed him into wearing. He let the shirt fabric drape over his fingers and smiled at the memory of Shiro's hand smoothing across the thin fabric. He doubted he'd ever wear anything like it again, unless...

Unless Shiro wanted him to.

He shivered and hung the costume carefully in his closet before pulling on a t-shirt and joggers. He grabbed the stack of blankets at the bottom of the closet and padded out to the common area.

As he arranged the blankets, the door to the suite opened, and Keith's nerves settled at having Shiro within sight again. After a soft greeting, Shiro walked around the couch and came up behind Keith to dump his own blankets on the pile. Before Keith could turn to greet him in return, Shiro caught him around the middle, swept his braid to the side, and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his nape. He shuddered at the heat of Shiro's mouth on his skin.

"Missed you," Shiro whispered.

"It's been ten doboshes," he replied with a hint of laughter, even as his heart leapt into his throat.

"I miss you every dobosh of every quintant we're not together."

"Damn."

"Sappy lines still working?"

Keith exhaled a tremulous breath as Shiro kissed over to the soft patch of skin behind his ear. "Yes, and I can't even be mad about it."

"Good."

Shiro turned him around and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Keith pushed him back just a touch and guided them down to the blanket-covered couch. As they settled side by side and Keith picked up his pad to search for something to watch, Shiro's fond smile evolved into a toothy grin.

"What's this for?" Keith asked as he tapped a finger to the corner of Shiro's mouth.

Shiro eased closer and dropped an arm around Keith's shoulders. "I just realized I can finally snuggle as close as I want now. I mean... you don't mind, do you?"

Keith paused in searching his pad and raised a brow. "I've been dreaming of this moment for deca-phoebs. I promise you, whatever you want, I want it, too."

A flush of red appeared on Shiro's neck. "Ah, right."

Keith winced. "Crap. I didn't mean-"

"No, I know. I just... I'm still mad at myself for-"

Shiro cut off as Keith dropped the pad and cupped Shiro's face with both hands. "Don't be. I meant what I said earlier. It's not like we can control those kinds of feelings. And I get why it was hard to see me as an adult after you'd spent so much time with me as a kid."

Shiro leaned forward to plant a lingering kiss on Keith's forehead, and he marveled at how easily the casual intimacy had slipped into their interactions. It still left him breathless, but perhaps the fact that they'd only been kissing for little more than a varga had something to do with the way Keith's heart pounded with every touch of Shiro's lips or hands or-

"My boyfriend is so smart," Shiro murmured against his skin.

Keith's mouth dropped open as Shiro pulled back to eye him. After the initial shock, though, a rush of pleasure filled the crevices of doubt threatening to crack his confidence. Fighting the smile that played at his mouth, he cocked his head to the side to make a show of considering the offering. Despite the phrasing, Keith knew Shiro too well to take it as anything but a suggestion.

"Boyfriend, huh?"

"Partner?"

"Maybe," Keith acknowledged, the word pinging in his chest. Another thought occurred to him, though, and he smirked and slid his hands from Shiro's jaw to rest on his chest. "How about mate?"

"Ahhh, hahaha," was Shiro's intelligent reply, his eyes widening into saucers.

"I think I like partner," Keith concluded, taking pity on Shiro. "It's what we've always been, just now with added benefits."

A wide smile replaced Shiro's overwhelmed expression. "Mmmm, benefits like this?"

Shiro leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Keith's lips. He hovered there a moment, their lips just touching, before pulling back. Keith followed, snagging another kiss before leaning back to grin at Shiro. The softness in Shiro's face tugged at Keith's heart, and he prepared himself for something sappy. He wasn't ready, however, for the stark honesty of Shiro's words.

"I've never felt like this before."

Keith swallowed, his own feelings running as deep as an ocean current, pulling him along. "Me, neither," he whispered back. "I mean... I've only ever felt this way for you."

"Love you," Shiro murmured.

"Love you back," Keith whispered, a thrill pulsing through him at hearing those words and being able to say them back. He closed his eyes and pushed forward until their foreheads and noses touched. "Ugh. Sorry. I just... This is too good. You're too good. I still can't believe it."

"Then I guess I'll just have to keep showing you how much I love you until you believe it."

Keith whimpered and Shiro tightened his arm around Keith's shoulders. This time when he leaned forward, Keith met him halfway, their lips touching gently in a series of exploratory kisses. Shiro seemed to be mapping Keith's mouth and memorizing his reactions with all the delight of a new expedition, and Keith let him, the pleasure of being wrapped up in the man he'd loved for so long manifesting as soft sighs and hums he couldn't seem to control. The noises seemed to encourage Shiro, though, so he didn't hold back, letting himself get lost in the moment.

His fingers glided down Shiro's chest to splay over his abs and then wandered back up again to slide around Shiro's neck. He petted at the short hairs of Shiro's undercut before gently dragging his nails over the sensitive skin. Shiro gasped into Keith's mouth, and Keith hummed out a pleased laugh before pulling back.

"Maybe we should put something on and at least pretend we're watching instead of just making out on the couch? The others will probably be back in a varga or so, and you know how much they love our post-gala vid nights."

"I suppose we can't mess with tradition," Shiro murmured a bit dazedly as he leaned back against the couch and watched Keith through hooded eyes.

Keith hummed a laugh as he fished the pad out of the blankets and tapped the button to open the large holoscreen in the middle of the room. He scrolled through Altea's streaming options, looking for something they'd already seen because, if the last varga was any indication, they wouldn't actually be watching much of the show until the others arrived. Keith fought back a bout of breathlessness at the thought.

When he didn't find anything familiar on the Altea streams, he moved to his personal stash, ignoring the children's vids he sometimes used to distract upset kids on his rescue missions and going straight for his collection of Shiro's favorite vids. It'd been a while since they watched the one with-

He startled at the first press of Shiro's mouth to his jaw, his breath stuttering at the feel of soft lips kissing up his jawline and over his cheekbone to the corner of his eye.

"You're distracting me," he murmured.

"Mmhmm," Shiro agreed as he brushed his lips over the shell of Keith's ear. "It's your fault. You're cute when you concentrate so hard."

He wanted to protest, but honestly, the idea that Shiro found him cute filled him with a warmth that pushed out all his grumpier thoughts. His skin tingled wherever Shiro's lips touched. The vids blurred before Keith eyes, and then his eyes slid shut because, damn... that felt so good and-

"Screw it."

He tapped a vid without looking, threw the pad to the side, and climbed into Shiro's lap, his legs stretching over Shiro's thick thighs. He cupped Shiro's face and leaned in to swallow the gasp and the soft moan that followed, their lips moving in tandem as Keith put into practice all the things he'd learned so far about how Shiro liked to kiss. Shiro sat up straight and leaned into Keith, his arms wrapping around Keith's waist and pulling him close until they were plastered together from thighs to chest. A strange sing-songy theme played in the background, but Keith couldn't hear much over the sound of their breathing and the rush of blood in his ears.

Shiro loved him. Shiro loved Keith the way Keith loved Shiro, and he wanted... he wanted-

The door to the paladin suite whooshed open. Keith and Shiro froze as Lance's voice echoed through the room.

"Oh, man, that was so good! Did you see their faces? I can't believe Coran-"

Lance was looking behind him as he entered the suite, but he cut off when he turned and locked eyes on Keith's scowling face over the back of the couch. Keith's skin, already warm from exertion, burned even hotter with embarrassment.

And it only got worse from there.

"Uh... hey guys... didn't realize you enjoyed Little Bii-Boh Goes to School so much," Hunk said with an awkward laugh as he entered the room behind Lance.

Keith wanted to shoot Hunk a death glare, too, but... it was Hunk. So instead, he hunched down and slid off Shiro's lap, adjusting himself as he settled on the couch once more.

As soon as he moved out of the way, Shiro burst into laughter. Keith looked up to find Little Bii-Boh dancing around and singing about friendship. He gave a grudging laugh, too, as he pointedly avoided looking at Shiro's lap while throwing a thick blanket over them both. He picked up the pad, and Little Bii-Boh's song cut off.

"This is your fault," he murmured.

"Guilty as charged," Shiro agreed with a grin, not looking the least bit guilty.

Keith's heart thumped hard in his chest as Shiro casually draped his arm around Keith's shoulders and pulled him close. His fingers shook on the pad, and he dropped it in his lap to hide the strange reaction.

It was only the other paladins, and they knew how he felt about Shiro. They would be happy to know Shiro felt the same way about Keith. So why did it feel like his stomach was trying to crawl up his esophagus?

"What would you recommend instead?" Shiro asked over the back of the couch.

A flurry of motion from the door preceded three - no four - people hopping over the back of the couch to sit with them. Matt sprawled on their right side beside his sister and gave Shiro a wide smile and two thumbs up.

"What's that about?" Keith murmured under his breath.

Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith's temple, and under the chorus of "awwws" from the other four, he whispered, "I'll tell you later."

"You guys are so cute," Hunk said, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes practically shaped like hearts. "This just happened didn't it? I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Keith smile that big before."

Keith snorted, his face still red but his lips stretched into a wide - and relieved - smile at Hunk's words. "Uh, yeah. About a varga ago, actually."

Matt tilted his head to the side and frowned. "So why are you two out here and not going at it like rabbits already."

"Oh my gods," Keith groaned. "You did not just ask that."

The only redeeming part of the moment was Pidge reaching over to smack Matt upside the head. He braved a glance at Shiro and found him looking at Keith with a hesitant expression.

"We're... um..."

Shiro huffed a sharp laugh as he searched Keith's face, and the brave, impulsive side of Keith leaned up to plant a hard kiss on his lips. Shiro instantly responded, leaning in for more, and all Keith's tension drained away at the soft, slightly dopey look on Shiro's face when he finally pulled back.

That look was for him. Shiro loved him.

"We're abiding by tradition, right?" Keith asked.

"Yeah," Shiro agreed with an even dopier grin.

"So cute," Hunk whispered.

"Okaaay," Pidge said in her "can we please move on" voice. "If we're abiding by tradition, what are we watching?"

Shiro relaxed into the couch, pulling Keith closer in the process, and a bit more of Keith's disbelief slipped into the ether. The cushion under them dipped with their combined weight, pushing them together. Keith rested his head in the crook of Shiro's shoulder, delighted by the play of plush skin and hard muscle under his cheek every time Shiro moved.

"You guys can pick something," Shiro replied, and Keith willingly handed over his pad to Pidge.

She snatched it and cackled. Shiro's chest bounced with his laughter, and Keith thought perhaps he'd discovered the explanation for this whole amazing night - he'd died and gone to heaven.

"What are you guys doing back so early, anyway?" Keith mumbled, wanting to be grumpy at them all for interrupting but unable to work up the proper indignation as he savored the plush warmth under his cheek.

"Early?" Lance asked in an incredulous tone. "It's way past the time we usually leave these things. You guys stayed vargas later than you usually do, too, what with all that dancing."

Keith huffed and turned to glare at Lance. "Yeah, and all those people I had to dance with before that were your fault. If Shiro hadn't stepped in, there would have been an intergalactic incident before the night was over."

"But he did step in, and now we all have to endure you two being disgustingly cute," Lance said with raised hands. "And besides, you got me back plenty by sending Avok my way. He made me dance with him eight times, Keith. Eight. Times."

Keith burst into laughter, and it was Lance's turn to glare. Shiro, ever the peacemaker, jumped in just as Lance was about to open his mouth again.

"You guys look great tonight, by the way. The tribute to Allura was a nice touch."

Lance dropped whatever he was going to say and smiled as he ran a hand down his jacket. "She deserves way more than a bit of fabric and some sparkles in tribute, but every little bit counts, right?"

"I think we honor her every day just by trying to make the universe a better place," Keith said.

Shiro rested his head on top of Keith's. "I think you're right."

"Oh, oh!" Hunk said from Lance's left. "They've added the Great Altean Bake Off to the streams! It's so good you guys. Just one episode, Pidge. Please?"

"As long as you promise to make us something from the show afterward."

"Deal!"

"But first," Matt said as he stood from the couch, "I think the lovebirds have the right idea. I'm changing into my pjs."

The others all agreed, and as quickly as they'd come in, they dispersed to their rooms. Shiro hummed out a laugh, and Keith pulled away from his plush heaven long enough to kiss Shiro's cheek. Shiro turned his head, but instead of kissing Keith, he raised metal fingers to brush across Keith's jaw.

"I can't get over how normal this feels," Shiro said as he watched his fingers glide over Keith's skin. "It's so natural. It's like nothing has changed, and yet... everything has changed."

"I know what you mean," Keith acknowledged. "I was nervous - and, okay, a little mad - at the interruption, but no one made a big deal about it. It's like... like they expected it." Keith paused, remembering Matt's thumbs up. "Speaking of, what was that thing with Matt?"

Shiro hummed a laugh. "Oh, he just gave me a pep talk earlier tonight when I was doubting whether I should tell you how I feel. I've been thinking about it for a long time, but part of me felt like... like I'd already done too much to hurt you."

"You never hurt me on purpose," Keith argued.

"When I first came back-"

"We both made mistakes, Shiro."

Shiro shook his head, his fingers curling around Keith's neck. "You're too good to me."

"No, you're too hard on yourself," Keith argued. Shiro's body trembled under Keith's palm as he laid a firm hand over his heart. "You've been to hell and back, but you're still a good man who dedicates his life to making the universe a better place. All those things you said about me in the garden? They apply to you, too, you know. Why do you think I love you so much?"

Shiro's eyes fell shut as he inhaled a long breath before huffing a rueful laugh. "I won't win this one, will I?"

"Do you really want to?"

"No," Shiro whispered after a pause.

Keith shrugged. "Then kiss me, and we'll call it even."

They came together softly, an affirmation and a promise. Keith's eyes fell shut as a rush of surety dredged out the remaining doubt along with a host of old emotions - pain, loss, anger, hurt - from the deep places he'd buried them. The bliss of loving Shiro and of being loved in return soothed the disappointments of the past as Shiro wrapped both arms around Keith, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Alright you two," came Pidge's muffled voice as her door slid open, "you'd better not be kissing or anything when I come out of my room."

Shiro pulled back from the kiss and laughed before resting his forehead on Keith's. "It's safe now."

"Ugh. This is going to be a thing, isn't it?"

"Yup," Shiro agreed.

"I suppose I can live with being slightly scarred since it's for a good cause," she said as she joined them on the couch again.

Keith snorted. "What cause?"

"You two finally being happy together instead of miserably pining for each other."

Keith blinked, looked at Shiro, and then looked back at Pidge. "You knew."

"Oh, everyone knew about you, mullet," Lance said as he emerged from his room and plopped down beside Keith. "Then Shiro gradually got all weird, too, and we knew it was only a matter of time."

"But actually, you two were taking forever," Hunk complained, "so Lance and I came up with the idea to get Keith into something sexy to hurry things along."

Keith grumbled, his face heating with another round of embarrassment, but Shiro just laughed. "Sorry to destroy your dreams, but I'd already decided to tell Keith how I felt even before I saw the outfits."

"It's true," Matt confirmed as he joined them.

Lance huffed, but Hunk just shrugged. "Whatever, man. I'm just glad the pining is over."

"Now the era of PDA begins," Pidge grumbled.

Matt laughed and ruffled her hair. She smacked at him before grabbing the pad to start the newest episode of the Great Altean Bake Off. Lance and Hunk immediately began a running commentary on the episode, while Matt and Pidge chimed in with good-natured heckling. The familiarity of it all wrapped around Keith, comfort leaching into his muscles as he leaned into the warmth of Shiro's side.

About half-way through the episode, things had gotten tense on screen, and Keith glanced up to judge Shiro's reaction. He was surprised to find Shiro looking at him instead of the vid screen. He nudged into Shiro's side, and Shiro gave him that wide, dopey grin that Keith was beginning to love.

What? he mouthed.

I love you, Shiro mouthed back.

Keith's heart kicked into high gear. He wanted to kiss that beautiful mouth.

In fact, he wanted to do a lot more than that.

Keith jerked his head over the back of the couch. Shiro's brows furrowed for a moment, but then a flash of heat burned away the confusion. He propped his feet on the couch seat, and Keith echoed the movement

One, two... Keith mouthed.

And then they were over the back of the couch, out the door, and running down the hallway back to Shiro's room, grinning at each other as their feet pounded down the corridors. And if they caught the faint sound of lewd shouts and hooting laughter following behind them, they ignored it in favor of reveling in the love that flowed between them, basking in the surety that no matter what the future might bring, they would face it together.

As friends.

As lovers.

As partners.