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Pre-Kerberos
Takashi Shirogane was a creature of habit. Every time he spent a night with his girlfriend (of the week usually or at the most, three months, two days, and five hours), Keith woke up the next morning to the alluring scent of blueberry and lemon zest pancakes. (Apparently a happy Shiro liked to dote on a grumpy Keith.)
Throughout their years at the academy, Keith woke up quite a few times to Shiro’s cheerful disposition, but other times, the slamming of the front door jerked the young cadet awake in the dead of night. Shiro always blinked, frustrated and embarrassed, before ruffling Keith’s hair as a silent apology on the way to his bedroom to sulk in solitary confinement.
Keith never let him stay that way too long. When those times came, he went to work, making the pancakes himself – usually sans the finer ingredients – before entering Shiro’s room without knocking. He always found his brother the exact same way, pushed up against his headboard, knees bent, pillow tucked under his chin, arms wrapped tightly around it. Shiro watched some stupid show from his youth about these mechanical beasts that would form one huge fighter, and as always, Keith said nothing. He just dropped the plates to the bed, then followed to sit cross-legged and wait. And as always, Shiro broke first.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Keith shrugged, breaking off a piece of the warm delight. “Nothing. You didn’t love her.”
“She wanted to spend the holidays on the moon. She wanted me to meet her folks who are stationed up there and her brother who will joining the garrison next year.”
Keith hated this blonde bimbo with a fury he reserved only for abnormally large spiders, pizza without pepperoni, and that annoying cargo pilot in his class.
“She invited you.”
Hm. Maybe the blonde bimbo – whatever her name was – wasn’t all that bad, actually. She tried to make small talk at the mess hall with him and even shared her mac and cheese once.
“So…you didn’t want to go?” Keith asked, genuinely wondering.
Shiro’s eyes didn’t divert from the television, though they shook and glistened with unshed tears. “I don’t love her, and – and meeting her parents and her family and spending the holidays – it would have been wrong.”
“Then…good.”
Shiro’s hands fisted in his dark hair as he ducked his head. “Keith, how can you say that? She could have been the one.”
“She wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because…she just wasn’t.”
“But how do you know?” Shiro’s head shot up, eyes and voice pleading. “You’re sixteen, so you can’t possibly understand –”
“She wasn’t the one because if she was, we’d be going to the moon for Christmas.”
Shiro sighed then, deflating against his headboard. His eyes drifted open as his head lulled to the side in a boneless manner. “Why can’t I commit? What is it about me? Why can’t I just—get it together? Damn. I’m turning twenty-four soon and haven’t had a relationship longer than a few months.”
Shiro had all but adopted a thirteen-year-old boy three years ago in the garrison’s simulator, but Keith decided to keep that truth to himself. “One day, you will. You’ll find someone worth meeting the family for and dealing with all that crap. And then, you’ll know she’s the one.”
Quiet and forlorn, Shiro just clutched his pillow, and Keith waited. And waited. And waited. Keith came to sit next to him, back against the headboard, and munched on the pancakes between them.
Eventually, Shiro’s hand slinked to the plate, and he began to heal.
*^*^*
Two Years Later
“You got laid last night!” Keith shrieked the moment he stepped into the kitchen, the words flying from his mouth faster than he could stop them.
Lance immediately did a spit-take, projecting his juice halfway across the room, while Pidge choked and Hunk dropped his fork. Shiro’s eyes just widened a fraction, his suddenly rosy face a mix between embarrassed and alarmed.
But Keith deserved some leeway. After all, he never thought after the endless meals of goo – and well, more goo – that he’d wake up to find hot pancakes steaming on the kitchen table. Of course, they weren’t quite the flour, egg, berry delight Shiro made back on Earth, but they smelled absolutely delectable. Keith once more sent a silent thank you to Hunk for gathering supplies and fresh ingredients from the various planets they saved.
He probably should have dropped the subject then, especially when Shiro sent him a look that warned, “Quit while you can, or I will kick your ass on the training deck later.”
But Keith learned long ago Shiro was all bark, some bite, and absolutely no claws. “How could you possibly manage to have sex in the middle of outer space?”
Just then, of course, Coran entered the kitchen, his good-natured hum dying immediately on his lips. His evident shock quickly shifted into blazing anger, face scrunched in a resentful scowl. “Shiro, I only hope for your sake that we are in one of those unfortunate situations where a word means something completely in your crass Earthling tongue than in my elegant Altean language.”
Barely hiding his sinister smile, Keith slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar, stabbing Lance’s half-eaten pancake and taking a bite.
Shiro immediately put up his hands in a surrender position, expression tense but cheeks undoubtedly reddening. “Coran…it’s not what you think.”
“Oh? So you didn’t have relations with the princess,” the older man accused.
Shiro cringed. “Okay…maybe it is exactly what you think, but – ”
Coran looked like he was about to explode, face all blotchy and bright cherry, and with a furious shriek, he launched himself at Shiro.
“Coran! Coran, you don’t want to do this,” Shiro pleaded, ducking Coran’s first attack and then blocking his punch.
Hm. Keith savored another bite of Lance’s pancakes. What an interesting flavor.
“I’m not scared of you, you sorry excuse for a Paladin!”
Shiro snatched Coran’s wrist effortlessly, spun him around, and with more force than necessary – but not by much – slammed the royal advisor against the breakfast bar, right next to Hunk. “Coran, need I remind you that I championed the gladiator games for the Galra. No matter how good you are, you are not going to defeat me.”
Keith hummed in appreciation. Shiro must have used some sort of fruit in the batter – with the tart of raspberry and the sweetness of strawberry – though the cinnamon accent tasted almost exactly like the spice back home.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Coran shouted, head pressed against the bar’s smooth surface by Shiro’s human hand. “I will defend the princess’s honor until my last breath!”
“My honor does not need defending,” Allura announced, standing before the now open door of the kitchen. She wore a casual dress for the morning – tight shorts, a tank top that showcased her assets both tastefully and evocatively, and one of Shiro’s jackets.
“Perhaps we should take the rest of the pancakes and give these three some privacy?” Hunk said, reaching for the stacked plate.
Keith slapped his hand away.
“Shiro, release Coran,” Allura ordered, and after a moment of hesitation, Shiro stepped back, lifting his arms off Coran. Allura’s strong front then softened, though determination lit a passionate fire in her eyes. She seized Coran’s hands the moment he stopped rubbing the back of his neck.
“Coran, I appreciate your concern, but I am not a child who needs to be protected. And I am certainly not the innocent virgin you believe me to be.”
Pidge stuck out her tongue. “Can we please change the channel now?”
“Shhh!” Lance waved at her. “It’s just getting good.”
Allura sent them a tolerant glare before once more affixing Coran with a sad smile. “What Shiro and I did or didn’t do, is of no concern to you. All you need to know is that I’m happy. I’m…the happiest I have been in quite some time,” and she appeared it, her smile radiant and indulgent.
“But he might hurt you,” Coran hissed. “I know his kind, Princess. I was like him– all brash and arrogant.”
That…didn’t describe Shiro at all, in Keith’s opinion.
Shiro came forward but seemingly knew better than to put his hand upon Coran’s shoulder. “Coran, I’d never hurt Allura. I’d do anything to protect her,” and then he added without any reservations, “I love her.”
Keith couldn’t help the subdued but true smile that overtook his face. Good. He was afraid Shiro hadn’t realized that yet.
Coran narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at Shiro. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Throwing the L-word around like that. Of course the Princess is going to get all googly-eyed, especially with that sexy, smoldering look you give her.”
Had Coran ever met Shiro? Shiro could do fierce and deadly, but smoldering was a stretch.
“Coran, that is enough,” Allura ordered. “I’m in love with Shiro, too, and –”
“You are?” Shiro interrupted, face brightening in such a way that Keith’s heart throbbed.
“Well, yes,” Allura’s smile grew as she came about Coran to cradle Shiro’s hands in her soft hold. “Of course. Have I not made that known?”
“I thought—I mean, I wasn’t sure – you never really said – ”
“Well, Alteans don’t say it perhaps as much as Earthlings. We let our actions speak for us.”
Keith couldn’t help himself. “I bet that’s what you did last night, didn’t you, Princess?”
Coran’s shoulders tightened again, wire-strung and trembling, and he lunged once more at Shiro, this time physically climbing upon the Black Paladin’s back.
Lance resumed eating, content to watch the entertainment unfold. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Keith said with a smile and stole another bite from Lance’s plate.
Hm. He was looking forward to waking up to quite a few pancake mornings, now that Shiro found his one – as long as Coran didn’t kill Shiro. Maybe Keith shouldn’t have incited Coran to riot, but – nah. After all these years of making pancakes for his brother, he deserved to have a little payback in the form of one furious royal advisor.
The End