#shiro is NOT okay

[rorimoon9597]

Ch 1

---------

He had only planned on going into the base and getting information, then to get the baby out of there when he found out about it.

Now, it had been a few hours, and he was back in his lion, staring down at this sleeping baby.

She was peaceful, wrapped up in a thin baby blanket, but Shiro had so many questions.

Altn-251.

Altean 251.

How many had they experimented on?

How'd they even get an Altean child? Because he only knew two.

Well, three now, he supposed, because the base he'd infiltrated had been hiding an Altean child that looked to be around two or three months old.

She was cute, though, he had to admit that.

Her hair was a soft pink, like cherry blossoms in the spring. Her eyes and Altean marks were purple, and she was sleeping in his arms peacefully.

'Allura and Coran are going to be so confused yet happy to know that they're not the only ones,' Shiro thought to himself.

The baby had been awake when Shiro first saw her. Her scared eyes turned to well... Less scared. She seemed to know that he was there to get her out, and she'd fallen asleep pretty quickly. He was glad, because it meant that she didn't have to see the blood and lifeless bodies all over the place.

He'd nearly thrown up as he got out of that place.

Black sent him a message, and Shiro sighed in relief.

"I guess it's time to return home, huh?" He asked. Black agreed.

He put the baby, which he'd already named Sakura, into a special cot that apparently Alfor had put in all of the lions for cases like this. He sent a thanks to the dead king that he'd thought ahead like this.

Shiro sat down in the pilot's seat and moved Black, guiding her into the atmosphere and out of it.

"Guys, are you there?" He said into his comms.

"Shiro! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Princess, though I crashed into a planet that had a base filled with people wanting to experiment on a baby," he said.

"A baby?!" Coran asked, genuinely upset and angry.

"Yes. I've dealt with all of the personnel and I have the baby with me, she's asleep right now."

"Coran, go prepare a room for the baby. I believe that we should still have my old things from when I was one in the storage," Allura said.

"Yes, Princess."

"Shiro, I'm going to need your coordinates so that I can open a wormhole to get you and the baby back quicker."

"On it," he replied. He easily sent off his coordinates. Moments later, a wormhole opened in front of him.

He flew Black through it. Seeing the castle again gave him a sense of relief. He wasn't as tense as before, even when he had Sakura in his arms.

He landed Black in her hangar. The entire team, including Coran, were already there. Shiro sighed with relief.

They were safe. The kids in his care were safe, and they were home.

He went and grabbed Sakura, wrapping the blanket to cover her head. Then he grabbed the things he'd managed to get from that place - the baby formula was one of them - and left Black.

"Is this the little one you found?" Coran asked, peering at Sakura.

"She is. Although, I have no clue as to how she exists," Shiro replied.

"What do you mean?" Allura asked, curiously. Shiro pulled away the bit of blanket covering Sakura's head.

"Because her people are supposed to be dead."

The entire team gasped. Allura and Coran stared at the baby in his arms. Sakura moved, and her eyes opened. She looked at the princess.

"Hello, there," Allura said. Sakura made a noise at her. "You're so adorable! Your ears, too! Oh, I'm so glad to meet you."

"You can hold her," Shiro said. Allura looked up at him, smiled, and took Sakura from his arms.

That snapped the others out of their stupor.

"What were they planning on doing to her?" Keith asked.

"I don't know, but I made sure to download all of the information I could," Shiro replied.

"We'll have a look at that information in a tick. I just need to make sure that you and the little one are both okay," Coran said.

"Sakura," he said.

"Sakura?" Allura repeated. Shiro nodded.

"Yeah. I... I decided to name her so... I went with Sakura."

"That's what the Japanese call the cherry blossoms. They only bloom for a couple of weeks in spring, so there's this whole viewing. The flowers are pink," Keith supplied. Allura smiled.

"I think that it's the perfect name for you. Don't you think so?" Sakura made another sound in reply to Allura.

"Let's go check over you and little Sakura here." Shiro nodded.

All of them made their way to the infirmary, where Shiro and Sakura were scanned. Luckily, Shiro had a minor concussion and bruising. Sakura was in good health.

Pidge took plenty of videos and photos of Sakura, while Lance cooed at her and played games with her.

"We were able to set up a room for her using many of Allura's old things, so she should be quite comfortable," Coran informed him. Shiro nodded, watching as the three teens and the mice fussed over Sakura.

"That's good. I'm honestly glad I got thrown onto that planet."

"You said that you took care of the scientists there?" Keith asked.

Shiro could only nod, barely able to keep away from the fuzzy memories that tried to creep into his mind and take over him.

"We'll have to take a look at that information you got soon. Perhaps when Sakura is sleeping."

"Yeah."

It didn't take long for Sakura to fall asleep again. Lance said that it was probably the excitement of meeting friendly people. Shiro had to agree.

So they put her down for a nap in Allura's old crib. Then, with a baby monitor in hand, they went to decipher the information that Shiro had the foresight to gather.

So they crowded around one of the desks in Green's hangar, where Pidge opened up Shiro's arm and plugged in a few wires to get to the information.

Pidge sucked in a giant breath.

"What's it say?" Lance asked.

"It says that Sakura is the 251st test subject. All of the other ones died because of the intensity of the tests. Not only that, but they were planning on turning her into a monster and setting her against us."

"Then it is very good that Shiro found her before then." All of them nodded.

Shiro knew what it was like to be turned into a weapon, to have what made a person themselves ripped away slowly until they were a shell of who they were.

He could still barely crack the jokes he used to make. In fact, none of the others except for Keith knew that he used to make them.

A hand on his shoulder, Keith's hand, pulled him out of his thoughts. Good thing, too, because he might have spiralled farther than he wanted.

"I'm glad that I got her out of there." He admitted.

"We all are, Shiro. However, we can not afford for the Galra Empire to hear of her. I don't want to know what would happen if they did, so we can not risk it."

"Allura's right. We can leave her on the ship with me during missions of all kinds. I have taken care of not only Allura when she was a baby, but also my own children." This revelation made the Humans look at each other.

Coran had lost his family when Altea was destroyed, just as Allura had lost her father.

"Alright well, that sounds good. We leave her here when we have missions, and take turns caring for her," Shiro said.

"That sounds like a good plan," Allura confirmed.

"That also means that we will have to keep other diplomats from knowing of her existence, so everyone who lives on this ship is sworn to secrecy," Pidge added.

"We'd all keep her a secret from diplomats regardless, Pidge," Keith pointed out. Pidge just shrugged.

"I'm just trying to make sure that everyone's on the same page here," she told him.

"We all are," Shiro confirmed.

"Sakura's cuteness is too precious to be shared with anyone else," Lance commented.

"I agree with Lance on that. Though wouldn't it be a good idea to socialise her with other children?" Hunk asked.

That was a very good point.

Sakura was going to need to get used to other children and learn how to share, be kind, and all of that. Letting her hang out with other children her age would be a good idea.

"We can let the Olkari know of her existence, though they will be sworn to secrecy, as Pidge said earlier. However, I do believe that they will not tell anyone else about Sakura," Allura said. She gave them all a smile. "I will talk to Ryner about this subject as soon as I am able to." 

They separated then, going off to do their own things. Pidge continued to scan through the information, joined by Lance who was the most fluent in Altean compared to the rest of them. Hunk went to make something for lunch, and Coran went off to check on everything within the castle. Keith joined Shiro.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. Keith shook his head.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just… need to talk to you about something,” he replied. Shiro tilted his head, curious. 

“Not here. I… I don’t want the others to know just yet…”

“Oh. So a secret thing?” Shiro asked. Keith nodded. “Let’s go to the training deck. You can tell me there.”

“Okay.”

They walked there in silence, side by side. Two brothers, going to beat each other up and talk about a secret that the youngest trusted the oldest with.

Shiro had to laugh at that.

“What?”

“We’re basically brothers, and we’re on our way to beat each other up,” Shiro replied.

“You’re a dumbass,” Keith said, shaking his head. He was smiling though.

They entered the training room and got ready, standing in position and waiting for the other to make a move.

As always, it was Keith who moved first. He tried to punch Shiro. Shiro blocked it and swung at him. Keith managed to dodge the move, then made to kick Shiro, forcing them apart.

“So, what’d you want to tell me?” He asked, dodging another hit.

“My crush,” Keith replied. He dodged a kick aimed at his head.

“Any progression with that? Have you maybe kissed him?” That threw Keith off long enough for Shiro to knock him off his feet. Unfortunately, Keith was able to steady himself. He attempted to swipe at Shiro. 

“We ended up on the same planet together,” Keith replied, standing up and aiming a high kick at Shiro. He moved out of the way and grabbed Keith’s leg, pulling the younger to the ground and pinning him.

“And?” Shiro prompted.

“He may have thought that we maybe weren’t going to survive, and he might have kissed me.” Shiro grinned. He laid down on the ground next to Keith, putting his feet up in the air and resting his head on his hands as if he were a teenage girl talking about crushes with her friends.

“Do tell, Keith. Did you like it? Did you kiss him back? Do you want to marry him and have five babies?”

“What the fuck?” Keith asked. Shiro snorted.

“Just tell me,” he insisted. Keith laid himself flat on the floor, face smushed into it.

“I… liked it. And I kissed him back. And now I want to find him and make out with him.” Shiro laughed, causing Keith to glare at him. The red covering his face made it hard to take him seriously, though.

“You’re in love,” he teased. Keith got up and launched himself at Shiro. They ended up wrestling on the floor, going back and forth until they were lying side by side, breathless.

“I think I am,” Keith said. His voice was so quiet that Shiro almost didn’t hear him.

Almost.

“Don’t let the opportunity slip by you now that you know that he feels this way about you,” he advised, looking at Keith. His brother turned his head to look at him, studying him for long moments.

“I won’t,” he promised. Shiro smiled at him.

They returned to sparring a while later, talking about anything and everything, exchanging jokes and insulting each other like siblings did, laughing together.

Ch3

[gilyoungroach]

another voltron text post because no one in voltron nation is safe

(silly goofies in this week's feature-

@hotdogcabbagesausage @nikogane @nostalgicish @mushed-kid @selestialsprout @akiraal @featherlight-whispers @azziopeia )

[autisticlancemcclain]

In all the love songs Keith has heard (and he’s heard many, both his Pa and Shiro were big ballad fans), he’s always heard laughter described as angelic.

That’s how it is. Over and over again. When you fall in love with someone, when cupid’s arrow strikes, their laughter will be like musical bells, like windchimes, melodic and beautiful and entrancing, and you will never want to hear anything else.

Lance sounds like a hyena on crack when he laughs.

Keith is obsessed with it.

The love ballads got one half of it right, he supposes. He does shut the fuck up and listen when Lance laughs. It is like the only sound he can hear.

It’s just not…musical.

“Your sighs get any dreamier and he’s going to hear you,” Shiro says idly, colouring his nails with Sharpie.

Keith drops his chin from his hands, turning away from where he was watching Lance laugh with Hunk and Allura and scowling at his asshole brother. “He is not.”

Shiro snickers, not even bothering to look up. Keith wonders if it’s morally acceptable to smack the shit out of someone with only one arm, or if Shiro will call foul and convince everyone that Keith is somehow the asshole here.

“Is so. You’re so besotted that even I’m embarrassed for you, and I usually just laugh when you’re being humiliating.”

Keith decides that the potential reputation tarnishing is worth it.

“Ow!” Shiro cries, clutching his flesh arm with way more drama than necessary. “My arm!” He glances over at the scattered stares he receives, from various uniformed officers, and pitches his voice louder to get more attention. “My only remaining human arm!”

“Keith, stop trying to kill your brother,” Coran admonishes. “He’s sensitive.”

Shiro shoots him the tiniest smirk before returning to his fake pout. Keith’s jaw drops in indignation. “Wh — he antagonized me — it’s not my — Coran!”

Coran only raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Number Three, or shall I get your mother involved?”

Pidge makes an obnoxious oooooooooh sound, wiggling her eyebrows at him, because she and Shiro are the worst, actually, and for good measure Coran is too.

“I hate this family,” Keith mutters, sinking into his seat. “All of you suck.”

“Okay, emo boy,” Shiro says patronizingly.

Unfortunately, Iverson walks in and starts the Atlas briefing before Keith can smack him again. He settles for glaring at his dumbass brother, who sticks his tongue out at him like the toddler he is, and then vows to pay attention to the meeting. He is the black paladin, after all.

He lasts four whole minutes.

It’s not his fault. If anything it’s Iverson’s fault. The meeting is boring as hell, and a quick glance around the meeting table shows that the only person paying attention is the note-taking robot Pidge made, and that doesn’t even count ‘cause it’s a robot. Several senior officers are outright sleeping. The MFE pilots are quietly passing around a game of dots. Hunk has blatantly pulled out an engineering project of his and is working on it in full and total view of Iverson (he still hates the man for what he did to Lance when they were cadets, claiming that since Lance has forgiven him, someone needs to hold a grudge). Pidge and Matt seem to be communicating in Morse code. Allura is directing her mice in some kind of acrobatic performance, and Coran is helping her. Shiro is trying to see how many spitballs he can land on Iverson’s blind side before he notices (he’s riding the line with 34). Lance is staring at Keith.

Lance is staring at Keith?

He startles when he meets Lance’s brown eyes, but Lance only smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave. Keith tilts his head in confusion, trying to wordlessly ask Lance why he’s staring, and also manage to keep his rapidly creeping blush under control.

(He likes it when Lance stares at him).

Lance squeezes his eyes shut instead of answering, and a moment later Keith feels a prodding in the back of his mind; a familiar presence, hot and fiery and all-encompassing.

Red.

He lets her in, lets her familiar feeling envelop his mind. She struts primly in his mindscape, nosing at Black as if to say I was here first, so just remember who’s boss.

Black lets her prance around with fond amusement.

Before Keith can ask her why she’s pushed her way through — not that he minds, he’s happy to have her, but she hasn’t felt the need to visit him in a while so he’s curious — he feels another presence almost knock on his subconscious, request access to his mindscape.

Red has…brought someone else?

Can she do that?

Red looks at him flatly, like his doubt is a personal offence. Before she can start admonishing him, the presence pushes again; not urgent, but insistent, almost as if someone is knocking on the door of Keith’s mind and doesn’t want to be ignored.

Beyond curious, Keith lets them in.

The second Keith opens his mental door, it’s like they rush in, flowing in like the white rapids of a river, strong and fast and excited, cool and bubbly. There’s so much of them that it takes Keith a good couple of minutes to conceptualise just who exactly has followed Red into Keith’s mind. The rushing water takes shape into a person; tall, gangly, broad-shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, freckles spotted over their nose and grin wide and sparking.

Keith gapes.

“Lance?!”

“Is everything alright, Kogane?”

Keith blinks open his eyes to find the entire meeting table staring at him, expressions ranging from confused to knowing to outright teasing. He realises all of a sudden that he’s spoken aloud, and not only spoken but called Lance’s name out, loudly, for seemingly no reason, in the middle of a crowded meeting.

His face flames.

“All is well,” he chokes out. “Please carry on.”

Iverson narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but eventually shakes himself and continues. Keith stays bright red for several minutes, staring pointedly down at the table, ignoring the various sniggers he can hear with every ounce of his effort. Unfortunately, some of the teasing laughter is inside his actual literal brain, what the fresh fuck, so it’s a fruitless endeavour.

Are you still freaking out? the Lance inside his head (???) asks.

What in the gall brained fuck is going on, Keith thinks back at it, looking at Real Lance in a decent mix of panic, confusion, and the actual phonetic sound that an exclamation point mixed with a question mark makes in your brain. Real Lance has his eyes closed, brows creased in concentration, and the tiniest of smirks pulling up at his lips.

Close your eyes and meditate, doofus, Mind Lance tells him. I’m using a lot of energy right now so I don’t have the space to try and reign you up here.

Despite the fact that Keith is so confused that a thousand professors could not explain his current situation to him in any way that makes sense, he listens, closing his eyes tightly and visualizing his physical bond with Black, like he does when he flies. It helps him sink into the semi-astral plane of existence, usually so he can meld with his lion and the rest of the team when they’re forming Voltron, but whenever he’s trying to reach his own mindscape, too. He’s still aware of his physical body, he’s not quite projected out of it, but he’s not wholly in it, either. Most of his essence is focused on seeing as his mind sees, without the constraints of the physical plane.

“Took you long enough,” Lance huffs.

“What the fuck,” Keith responds.

He packs quite a lot of questions into that what the fuck, he thinks. Like ‘what the fuck are you doing here’, for starters. Or ‘what the fuck just happened with the water and Red and everything else’, if he wants to be specific. Or, if he really just wants to cover everything, ‘what the fuck is happening’ might just do it.

“Your internal monologue fascinates me,” Lance informs him.

Keith flushes. (Does he flush in his mindscape? Does he have the blood and physical body necessary in order to flush? Or is he just embarrassed, so his perception of himself is blushing because that’s the only way he knows how to conception use the feeling? God, Voltron magic shit is so weird. Keith lowkey misses mapping energies alone in the desert and wondering if he was delusional.)

“Stop hearing my internal monologue,” he orders.

Lance pouts. “You’re no fun. I want to hear all the juicy gossip you think about me because you’re too emotionally stunted to say it.”

Lance is only joking, Keith knows he is. He’s leaned forward slightly, like he always does when he’s teasing, and his smile is close-mouthed, unserious.

But Keith of course panics anyway.

A million snapshots of Lance flash through his mind — Lance laughing, head thrown back, barely holding himself up; Lance dancing around the briefing room at two in the morning as he plans a mission; Lance with his tongue stuck out of his mouth, concentrating hard on tiny knitting needles and tiny little mouse-sweaters; Lance with tears shining in his eyes, glancing at a projection of Earth, long before they finally made it home; Lance dirty and hurt, cradled to his chest as Keith runs him too a pod after Sendak. A thousand moments of Lance when Keith was fondest of him, when just looking at him made the ballads Keith grew up with play in his head.

He hurries to shove the memories in an obscure corner of his head and prays that Lance doesn’t see them.

“Can you actually hear my thoughts,” Keith asks, a little desperately.

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I get emotional impressions, but that’s about it. I can’t even see anything in here expect you and Red, basically. And Black. Hi, Black!” He waves excitedly to the lion, who sits regally in the dead centre of Keith’s mindscape. She turns to the red paladin in amusement, nodding her head once. Lance beams.

Keith feels a rush of fondness for him so potent it makes his heart hurt, a little.

“Woah,” Lance says, looking at him a little wide-eyed. “I felt that, Willie Nelson. Holy softie.”

“How and why are you here,” Keith says, blatantly changing the subject and not giving even one single shit about being subtle about it. Lance is looking at him too closely.

Luckily, Lance indulges him, or is too excited about being here in general to resist talking about it.

“Isn’t it so cool?” he gushes. “I’ve been working on it with Red for ages! I figured since we all have that emotional bond with each other and the lions during Voltron, and we keep our lion bonds outside of Voltron, we should be able to communicate with each other outside of Voltron, too. Red wasn’t sure if it was possible but she helped me try, and I figured I’d try with you first because it would be the easiest, since we’re so close and all. And you’re more likely to let me in your head.”

He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s obvious that they are so close, and that Keith loves him so much that he wouldn’t mind Lance in his head, not really.

The worst part is that he’s right.

With anyone else, this would feel like an invasion of space. Keith would be defensive immediately, angry even, throwing them right the hell out of his head and yelling at them as he does it.

But with Lance?

He’s a little shocked, sure. And worried, that Lance is going to see all the parts of him that Keith isn’t ready yet to show him; the parts that he doesn’t yet know how to say, how to show. The parts of Keith that soften every time Lance smiles at him, the parts that light up with gleeful competition whenever Lance eggs him on, the parts that chafe and ache but smooth over when Lance sits with him quietly when he’s hurting.

Keith knows that Lance knows that he loves him. He doesn’t exactly hide it. He’s not sure he would, even if he could.

But he’s not ready to tell him. Not yet.

He takes a deep breath. (Or whatever the mindscape equivalent is).

He knows Lance won’t go looking.

“And you decided to pull this telepathy shit in the middle of a random meeting?” Keith teases, allowing some of the worry to slip away.

This is, after all, cool as shit, even if it’s weird.

“It’s not an important meeting!” Lance defends. “It’s boring, and I needed entertainment! Besides, Pidge’s bot will give us all the notes anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Slacker. Some right hand man you are.”

Keith spends the rest of the dead-boring meeting teasing and chatting with Lance in his mindscape, which is great because he both gets to mess with Lance, which is always a net positive, because he has the upper hand in his own head, and because he gets to look like he’s paying attention in the meeting and actually be completely checked out.

“Oh, hey, I think the meeting’s ending,” Lance says. “I can hear Iverson winding down a bit.”

“Time to get out of my head then, you squatter?”

Lance rolls his eyes, waving to Red to get her attention. She stalks over, nosing him in the head like a mother cat to her kitten. Lance bats her away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll head out. But only because I’m not practiced enough at this thing, so if I stay in your head it’ll look like I’m frozen or something. Once I figure out how to look normal and still beam my thoughts into your head, you’re never going to be without me even once in your life.”

Lance is teasing again. Keith can tell. But still, he’s totally helpless to stop what comes out next.

“I’d be okay with that.”

He sounds so besotted he wants to smack himself. But before he can even have the space to be embarrassed, he feels a wave of emotions that aren’t his — Lance’s, from the other end of their connection, a mix of embarrassment and selfish pleasure so thick that Keith can feel it even though they’re in Keith’s mindscape.

His jaw drops.

Lance wants Keith’s undivided attention. He’s preening over it.

“I gotta go,” Lance says hastily. “Uh, meeting ending and everything.”

Before Keith can so much as stop him, he feels the same strange feeling as before, the cool, rushing water of a river, only this time it’s flowing out of of his head rather than into it. Lance has retreated hastily from his mindscape, and Red follows, much slower and much more smug, visibly laughing at her paladin.

When Keith opens his eyes again, Lance is bright red, and won’t meet his eyes.

Keith smiles. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to spill his guts.

———

part two

[holysheithyall]

s shheith [collapses]

[petratherrock]

Inutade, trying her best

Red dragon sized, chimera Falin :

[lil-shiro]

is this a safe space

[yurikogane]

crossposting this one from twitter but like idc keith who withdraws because he has an awful thing for "loving too hard" and getting so attached it all goes to shit making him feel like the problem vs undiagnosed bpd is this bc bpd keith is just my twin and i love the idea? yes. also im obsessed w the idea of keiths fp being shiro and his reactions to losing him get more and more extreme as a result of the mounting fear that this will be the last time he sees his brother and he will be missing and ripped from him once more (devastating him because that codependency vein runs DEEP) anyways if you guys want a full post explaining what i mean on that one just lmk i felt like broganes rambling because i like them a lot found family dynamics turning codependent has a crazy hold on my brain currently

[frobby]

I know this anime only canon but rin should have mauled shiratori reiji for driving a fucking truck through the side of his house

[lyxanislive]

060/366 - Shiro's Birthday

[im-smart-i-swear]

water of the womb.

now that i think abt it this can kinda function as an unintentional companion piece to this thing! if i had a nickel for every time i drew a kuron piece that involved fetuses et cetera et cetera

[rorimoon9597]

Ch1 Ch2

He tried to sleep. He really, really did, but he was unable to.

The feeling of the blood on his body, the deep red of it as it was washed off of his body, as it dried on the floors and how slick it'd been.

It haunted him.

He'd never wanted to kill another soul, but all of them had a body count, didn't they? His was higher than the others though.

Don't think about it. Don't think, don't think, don't. Think. You will only spiral if you think.

He shifted a bit more before he sighed and got up. He walked through the entirety of the ship, making sure everyone was asleep. He found Pidge in Green's hangar, and had to carry her back to her room.

Her weight on his back grounded him. It kept the dark thoughts at bay, even if just a little. 

He had to navigate through the piles of things in Pidge's room in order to set her on her bed, but he managed. He took off her glasses and covered her with a blanket. She snuggled into it.

Shiro left her, walking through the rest of the castle and coming across no one else. He went back around to the bedrooms and found himself going into Sakura's room.

She'd been with them for a couple days, but she was already a part of the family they'd built. Shiro spent a lot of time with her.

In part, it was because he was the one that Sakura favoured. Coran had suggested that it was because he'd been the one to get her out of there, to somewhere safe where people wanted her to live so that she could experience the wonders of the universe.

The other part of it was because he was always focused on her when he was taking care of her. There was no war, no possibility of dying at any moment. It was just them, two people who were lost and needed family.

Shiro felt lost. He was in space, with no love of his life that he wanted to marry. He had PTSD and definitely had depression too. He was tired. He just wanted to go back to Earth, talk to Adam, and maybe, just maybe, lie in his arms again. He wanted to feel safe.

Yet he couldn't do that. He wouldn't even if he had the chance. There were kids on the ship. Most of Voltron was made up of children. He wished that they hadn't been caught up in a war.

But they would have been dragged into this mess if the Galra came to Earth.

Adam would have been dragged into it.

Shiro knew that Adam had family. A large one at that. He'd never met them though. It was because Adam's parents had disowned him when he came out, and he hadn't been in contact with the rest of his family. He did have some family that he was in contact with though. They’d known that they were engaged, just not who Adam was going to marry. Shiro had heard about them. 

He'd heard of Adam's favourite aunt, who had bought him a pride flag when he came out. The one who had given him a roof over his head despite having multiple children of her own.

He'd heard of his favourite cousin, who looked up to Shiro, who wanted to be a pilot and had eagerly joined the Garrison when he was given the opportunity. Of that cousin's sister, who was a lesbian and not afraid to show it.

He'd heard of the cousin who was married with two kids. He'd been shown pictures of those two kids. Adam had gone to the hospital when both kids were born.

Shiro had no family on Earth. His grandparents had raised him when he was younger, because his parents had died. They were dead too, taken by cancer when he was still a cadet (he would forever be thankful to Commander Holt for helping him during that time, and for Adam, who stuck by him on the worst days) and his relationship with Adam… well, it was non-existent now.

Yet the main reason for him to fight was for Adam and his large family, the aunt who took him in, the cousin with his own family, the one who looked up to Shiro, the lesbian one, and their futures.

And his fellow Paladins.

He was fighting alongside Pidge to find the other two members of the Kerberos mission, and fighting with Hunk and Lance to keep their families safe.

Now, as he looked down at Sakura, he knew that he was fighting for her, too.

He could wait a bit longer to take a break.

“I'll fight for your future. I promise you that,” he whispered, his human hand gently resting on her stomach. “You won't have to fight in the future.”

Sakura slept on, his promise unheard by her tiny ears.

_______________________________________

Shiro bounced Sakura as he stared out at the endlessness of space, worrying about Pidge.

She'd gone off to get her father and brother after she'd found out where to get the information needed. She'd been gone for a couple of hours, and Shiro was really, really worried. Did he mention that part already?

“We'll be landing on Olkarion soon,” Keith said, interrupting his thoughts.

Shiro nodded in response.

“Shiro?”

“I'm fine,” he said. Sakura looked up at him. 

“You're not, and I think that she could sense that you were lying too,” Keith replied. Shiro sighed.

“I don't want to worry you.”

“You're doing a terrible job at that.”

“I guess…”

“You can tell me. You know that right?”

“Even though you can’t comfort people?”

“Even though I can’t comfort people,” Keith agreed. Shiro smiled at him.

“I’m worried about Pidge. She’s gone off by herself, and she hasn’t reported back yet. It’s… concerning, to say the least. She’s still a child. None of you should have to fight in a war…”

“But we were chosen, and we’ve taken on the roles we’ve been given. It’s all to keep Earth safe, for our families… for Adam.” Shiro shook his head.

“I know but… the only reason why I’m fighting is so that you guys can have a brighter future, so that Adam and his family are safe. I have no more family, Keith. You and Adam… you guys are all I have left. And now it’s just you.”

“You have Sakura now,” Keith reminded him, taking the baby from Shiro. 

“Awa,” she said. 

“Coran said that Altean babies are more likely to attach themselves to someone who they know is kind, and he thinks that Sakura’s done that with you. She basically thinks that you’re her dad.” Shiro looked at Keith, slightly surprised.

He… hadn’t known that. 

“So that’s why she’s attached herself to me?” He asked.

“Yep. Now, let’s go, we’re nearly there.” Keith walked out of the observation deck. Shiro spared one more look out the window before he turned around and followed Keith.

They walked to the bridge, Keith bouncing Sakura from time to time. She giggled when he did, a wide smile on her face. Shiro smiled seeing it. He knew that Keith would be a good father himself someday.

“Keith, Shiro, you’re both here,” Allura greeted, a smile on her face. Shiro watched out of the corner of his eye and Lance gravitated towards Keith. Sakura was a good cover, because Lance went straight to cooing over the baby.

“We’re not that far from Olkarion?” Shiro asked.

“Indeed. Number five has just contacted us, saying that she has found a lead on her brother. She will be meeting us there,” Coran confirmed. 

“That’s good. I’m relieved,” Shiro said. He could feel the tension leave his shoulders.

“Space Dad,” Lance commented. Shiro rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips regardless. 

“Stop calling me that,” he said.

“We’ll stop calling you that when you stop acting like a dad,” Lance retorted. Shiro laughed at that.

“Alright, you got me there.”

“Ryner has agreed to let Sakura meet some of the younger Olkari. She has given us her word that no one will hear of her existence,” Allura informed them.  

“That’s good to hear.”

They landed on Olkarion, and Shiro grabbed a bag of things for Sakura. He went to join the others. 

Lance was holding Sakura, letting her stare at the area around her in awe. Allura was talking to Ryner about something, but they were both making their way over to them.

“This must be the child you were talking about,” she said. 

“Yep! Her name’s Sakura,” Lance replied.

“Sakura. That is a pretty name. Is it from Earth?”

“It is. It’s a Japanese name,” Shiro replied.

“Shiro gave it to her,” Hunk offered. Ryner smiled.

“I suppose that you are one of these Japanese?”

“I am.”

Lance and Hunk went with Ryner to introduce Sakura to some of the Olkari babies. She looked over Lance’s shoulder at him with her wide eyes, clearly confused as to why he wasn’t coming, but she’d grown used to him not always being around. The bag of things for her was slung over Hunk’s shoulder.

Shiro, Allura, Keith and Coran went around to some of the refugees, talking to them and making sure that they were all doing good and helping to hand out supplies. He was constantly busy, so he didn’t have time to think about anything like Pidge potentially dying. He just focused on his tasks, smiling at aliens and answering questions kids had about Voltron. Tired parents smiled at him thankfully when he told the kids stories of Voltron.

Green entered the atmosphere. Shiro and Allura went to the castle, where Pidge was landing. Keith, Lance and Hunk followed. Sakura was in Hunk’s arms this time.

“SHIRO! I FOUND MATT!” Pidge shouted. He could hear the grin in her voice. 

Sure enough, right behind her and staring around at everything, was Matt Holt. His hair had grown a bit, and Shiro thought that he looked better than when his hair was the same length as Pidge’s. It made him look so much more mature.

“Shiro! You’re here!” Matt said. He was grinning. Shiro found himself grinning.

“It’s good to see you again, Matt,” he replied. They hugged. Shiro could only feel relief that Matt was alive and healthy – he could only imagine how Pidge felt.

“Matt, this is Lance, Hunk, you probably know Keith, that’s Coran, and that’s Princess Allura.” Everyone waved or said hello as Pidge said their names.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Matt said. He saw Sakura. “Who’s this little cutie?”

“That’s Sakura. She’s basically Shiro’s daughter,” Keith supplied. 

“Congratulations, Shiro,” Matt said. He cooed at Sakura.

“I- thank you..?”

“Just accept your fate, Shiro,” Hunk advised. Shiro rolled his eyes.

“I already have,” he replied. Hunk just shrugged his shoulders.

Matt was now holding Sakura, lifting her up into the air and making her giggle.

“She’s so adorable,” he said, practically crying.

“She is. Listen, Matt, no one off of this planet can know of her existence. We can’t let anyone know of her existence,” Pidge urged. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” Matt promised. Shiro smiled.

Matt was good at keeping his promises.

_______________________________________

Pidge didn’t have the instinct to stay up late that night. Instead she fell asleep on top of Matt, who carried her to her room. Shiro let him, knowing that he’d been missing her. Besides, Shiro was only taking care of the other Paladins because they were in space, far away from home. They needed someone to take care of them.

It was another one of those nights for him, where he couldn’t sleep at all. His joy from seeing Matt again had quickly dissipated once he was left with his thoughts, so he resorted to wandering through the halls.

He ended up in the kitchen, where Matt was sitting hunched over on one of the barstools. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked.

“Mm. Nightmare,” Matt replied. Shiro just nodded. He went and grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and sat down next to Matt.

They sat there together, silent. Nothing really needed to be said. They’d both experienced something traumatic.

“Thank you for saving me back then,” Matt spoke. Shiro didn’t need to ask anything. 

“Of course. You had no experience fighting back then, and I knew that you had family. I couldn’t let you go in there. You… you would have died,” Shiro replied. 

“Yeah… they transferred me. I don’t… they didn’t do anything to me, really. Just healed me from when you broke my wrist and then declared me too weak to do anything. I mostly just… sat in a cell, doing nothing all day. I always wanted to go home. I still do. But… there might not be a home to return to…” Matt trailed off. Shiro stared down at his cup. “Why’re you up?”

“I’ve not been able to sleep properly since before I left Earth,” he reminded Matt.

“Right. That whole thing with Adam.”

“Yeah…”

“We’ll get home, Shiro. We’ll get home, even if we need to fight off the Galra. And when we get home, we’ll be able to see our families.”

“You’re right, we will,” Shiro agreed. They went silent for a while longer before Matt got up and left. Shiro followed him, pouring his water down the sink and setting the cup in it. He walked to his room and laid down on the bed.

He closed his eyes, but couldn’t sleep. 

He acted as if he got at least a couple minutes of sleep the next day, but it clearly didn’t fool Keith or Matt. Luckily neither of them said anything.

Like he’d said, Matt was good at keeping his promises.

[klanced]

I actually think Keith is way more Barbie-coded than Lance is

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith is well and completely aware that his boyfriend is, objectively, a bad bitch.

He’s seen him shoot through the crook of someone’s arm to disable an entire warship. He’s seen him wink and brush by seasoned Blade and send them stumbling. He’s seen him choke someone out with his legs alone. (He’s been choked out by Lance legs. Several times. He’s even instigated that happening.)

But one thing Lance is before anything else; before he is a paladin, before he is a friend, before he is a badass, before he is anything, he is a complainer.

“You never take me anywhere,” he is fond of whining, as if they are not on a floating hunk of metal and polymer in dead space at all times. Or getting shot at. They are in the equivalent of the cross-Atlantic highway at three in the morning in a century old car that breaks down every two hundred miles like clockwork, and also sometimes they just get bombed out of nowhere. That is their life.

We never do anything, he says. Bah. Sometimes he thinks he is going to scoop his boyfriend up and — throw him at something.

But he knows that would never. Not really. As much as Lance drives him batty (and he does drive him fucking batty — he’s been huffy at Keith for a week because Keith didn’t listen to him on a mission, in a dream, and died. He has had an attitude for six days), he really and truly loves Lance more than anything. He loves the way Lance snorts when he laughs and trips over his own two feet more often than not and talks in his sleep and forgets English words and shrugs about it. He loves the magnitude of Lance’s smile and the endless brown of his eyes and the way he always kisses Keith’s clavicle before bed and doesn’t know he does it. He loves the way Lance leans into him without thinking when they sit next to each other and holds his hand when they walk. He loves how Lance fights for a way to meet his eyes when missions go to shit and asks him what to do next just to help Keith focus on something. He loves the way that his jacket was mysteriously fixed the time the old thing wore a hole along the seams and Lance played dumb about it like it could have been anyone else. He loves the way Lance coos over every animal they stumble across, no matter how horrifying, the way he cries his eyes out at every single movie and smacks anyone who looks at him. He loves the way Lance’s entire person always just seems to bubble out of him, like he’s holding his bleeding heart with open fingers.

Keith loves him in a way he didn’t think he deserved. And so it bugs him, really, that he can’t take Lance places, can’t buy him every ugly flower he wants or take him to hole-in-the-wall clubs to dance like Keith knows he wants to or even just go to the space mall with him.

Floating junkmobile in space or not, Keith is going to treat him or die trying. He is.

“So we’re not even close to something with gravity?” Keith clarifies, perhaps a touch desperate.

“Farther than your brain can conceptualise to even an asteroid,” Coran confirms, with no subtle amount of amusement.

Keith purses his lips. “Could we, like…travel there?”

Coran holds his gaze for a moment, eyebrow raised, then returns to the medical supplies he was sorting through.

“I’m afraid not, dear.”

“Why not?”

“I’m quite fond of not getting ambushed.”

“What if you just dropped me off? Then you can go back to not getting ambushed.”

“No.”

“I’ll keep my comm on! For real this time! Just a couple vargas.”

“Unfortunately not, Number Three.”

“Please?”

Keith does his best to widen his eyes the way Lance does it when he’s trying and succeeding at getting his way. He somehow dilates his pupils on command, which Keith doesn’t know how to do, but he figures he can most certainly try. Coran likes him, anyway. He said so.

“Child.” Look of amusement still slotted firmly on his face, and also somehow sporting a piece of wizened reading glasses that he was not wearing three seconds ago, Coran carefully sets down the equipment he’s holding, standing to walk over to Keith. He places a hand on Keith’s shoulder and leans in. “I am not dropping off one of the leaders of Voltron alone on a swap moon for a ‘couple vargas’. You understand why.”

Keith sighs petulantly. “I would get super murdered.”

Coran hums. “You would get super murdered, yes.”

He claps Keith’s back heartily, nearly sending Keith sprawling, then turns back to his sorting. Keith waits til his back is turned to silently and dramatically fall to his knees and mime screaming like Troy Bolton in the third High School Musical Movie (Shiro has too much of an influence on him). He had really hoped Coran would magically have a solution.

“Although,” Coran says, making Keith jump and scramble to his feet (thank every deity to ever exist that Coran keeps his back turned or Keith would crumble to humiliated dust), “if you’re looking for a change of scenery for whatever reason, there are lots of secluded places in the castle.”

Keith flushes red. He knows that’s not how Coran means it — only Hunk knows about them, having magically been able to keep his mouth shut after the whole found-your-lion debacle — but he can’t help where his mind goes, and he’s standing in front of someone who is for all intents and purposes his father, basically, or at least one of them, and it’s horrible and embarrassing and the worst. Imagining that in front of Coran, who once cried and told him he’s just so proud of the man he’s becoming, is just — no. He can’t handle having a father figure again. He’s going back to being a sad orphan.

Well. No.

Whatever.

“Okay bye Coran,” he says loudly and tellingly, practically sprinting out of the room in mortification. He considers ducking into his room to see if Lance is there, but he knows Lance will ask what’s up, and the idea of explaining to him and then hearing him laugh himself to tears adds a beautifully shiny cherry to his sundae of suffering and he decides otherwise.

He ducks instead into the kitchen, hoping it’ll be empty at this time so he can eat his feelings away, but of course that’s not the case. Hunk stands with his hands on his hips at a counter, knife clenched in his right hand, glaring at what Keith hopes is a vegetable of some kind.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk calls, slowly moving his knife so as to not startle the vegetable.

The vegetable twitches. Keith pretends it doesn’t, choosing to ignore its existence and hoisting himself up to sit on the counter while Hunk is too distracted to stop him.

“I have a dilemma,” he whines when Hunk fails to ask further questions.

“You and Lance are slowly morphing into the same person,” Hunk comments idly. “I have to deal with two of you now. It’s exhausting. Go back to hating each other.”

Keith smiles. “No.”

“Ugh.” He makes a sudden move towards the nightmare vegetable and it panics, throwing itself off the counter in sad vegetable suicide and splatters on the floor. Hunk sighs for a very long time, then reaches for a rag. “Tell me about your dilemma then, catboy. I am looking forward to clowning you.”

“I need to take Lance on a date,” Keith says. “An amazing one.” He tries to be cool and normal for three seconds before remembering that Hunk caught them making out on a moon when they still pretended to hate each other and knows there is no worse shame. “One that is worthy of him, you know? I want him to feel treasured.”

Hunk raises his eyebrows. “Take him to the space mall to commit crimes again. He loves doing that.”

“Coran said no.”

“Observation deck?”

“Makes him sad.”

“Pool?”

Keith tilts his head to the side, considering. “Well, maybe. But we do that all the time. Plus anyone could just walk in on us.”

Hunk groans loudly, chucking the dirty rag at Keith’s face. Keith manages to dodge but only barely.

“You two and your stupid sneaky shit. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to cover for you two so you can giggle about your secrets?”

Keith grins guiltily. “Love you, Hunk.”

“Shut up. I hate you. When everyone finds out I’m going to point and laugh. I don’t even understand why you bother.”

Keith shrugs, twisting the rag sound his fingers. “It’s not…” He sighs. Hunk must sense the shift in the air, because he stops what he’s doing and hoists himself up next to Keith, even though he hates it when people sit on the counter, and leans against him. Keith shoots him a small, grateful smile.

“There’s something special when it’s just the two of us, I guess. Like being in our own little blanket fort. The lighting’s low and every sound feels muffled and it’s hard to breathe and everything else fades, for a bit.”

Keith doesn’t know how else to describe it. His Pa used to build him blanket forts, when he was really little, and he would stay in there until it collapsed on top of him. The same safe feeling settles in his chest when he lies in bed with Lance, when they stand back to back in battle, when they’re as closely pressed together as they can be. Like he’s wrapped in blankets and floating on air.

“Do that, then,” Hunk says softly. He grabs Keith’s hand and squeezes it softly. “Lance loves you, dude. He just wants to spend time with you. He complains because of who he is as a person, but he doesn’t…he swoons about you, man. It’s honestly kind of embarrassing.”

“It is, isn’t it.”

For all of his poking and whining, Lance was the one to move his stuff into Keith’s room. It was Lance who pulled him in with a smirk when Keith knocked on that door, asking what they were next. Lance who pulls him back under the covers in the morning and peppers kisses to his skin, Lance to whisper their first I-love-you, fast and near silent like a gasping inhale, Lance who thought Keith was asleep when he whispered you make me happy like no one else into his hair.

Lance wants him. Plain and simple. In whatever way they have, floating piece of junk or not.

“You got something?” Hunk murmurs.

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. He smiles at his friend, eyes crinkling when he grins right back. “Yeah, I got something.”

He thinks about blanket forts and low lighting and feeling like floating. He thinks about the first time they were ever a team on the castle. He thinks about all the picnic dates in all the romcoms Lance makes him watch.

Suddenly he can’t sit still for another moment. His blood feels like it’s buzzing, and his fingers twitch. He has an idea and if he doesn’t implement it immediately he’s gonna die.

“Get out of here,” Hunk says tiredly, shaking his head in amusement. “You stress me out. Go bother Lance.”

Keith presses a smacking kiss on his cheek because he is, at the core of him, annoying. The action startles a laugh out of him, because at the core of him, Hunk is not nearly as much of hater as he pretends to be.

“Bye Hunk! Love you!”

He runs out of the room to Hunk’s rolled eyes and his own wide grin, heading straight for the pool — he’s got some prep to do.

———

He’s shifty the whole day and he knows it. Lance knows it too, based on the narrowed, judgemental eyes, long, considering glare, and the way he flicks Keith on the forehead mid-spar and says “You’re being shifty, weirdo.”

Keith grabs his hand and kisses it just to make Lance smile on reflex and then scowl about smiling when he’s trying to be mad. It’s all very predictable and amusing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says lightly. He even pitches his voice to sound more innocent and everything, just like Adam taught him.

“Ugh,” Lance responds.

They go back to sparring, and Keith can’t keep the smile off his face for the life of him. He’s just — so excited. He can’t wait. (And, also, his refusal to answer Lance’s questions is visibly pissing him off, and that’s always fun.) He makes an excuse after a couple hours, kissing Lance loudly and obnoxiously on the cheek before running off, leaving him in the training room and circling the castle three times to make sure he’s not being followed before ducking into the kitchen. As Hunk had promised yesterday when Keith had explained his plan, there are dozens of supplies laid out on the counter and a detailed instruction manual. Keith makes a mental note to clean Hunk’s tools until they are shining in thanks.

Keith, says a pink post-it note on the manual, you’re a whipped loser. Love, Hunk.

Keith grins, folding up the note and tucking it in his pocket. He takes inventory of the supplies, making a special note of the weirdo lump shaped fruit that Keith knows taste like strawberries, that Lance is obsessed with and Hunk often has to literally claw out of his hands when they’re on ship so that Lance doesn’t eat them all. (Actually, now he just puts a lock on the fridge. It’s a problem. Lance loves those strawberries more than Keith, probably.)

Confident that Hunk will keep Lance distracted and praying that no one comes into the kitchen and asks him what the hell he’s doing, Keith gets started. He chops up vegetables, whisks up batters, cuts sandwiches into cool shapes (a sword, Mothman, and an elaborate brachiosaurus) for three straight hours, tucking everything away into a basket and then into the very back corner of the fridge and hiding it behind a case of soda that no one but Keith likes. He barely manages to finish cleaning up the kitchen by the time Shiro and Pidge stroll into the room to get dinner, and both of them eye him suspiciously.

“You’re early,” Pidge says, eyebrows raised.

“You’re never early,” Shiro adds. “I usually have to go send someone to drag you.”

“I’m hungry,” Keith says primly. He’s not, really, since he’s been snacking on stuff as he’s been cooking, but he marches over to the goo machine and squirts himself a bowl anyway. He’ll pull a Lance and feed half of it to the mice, it’ll be fine.

The rest of the team files in a few minutes later; Allura with her hair stuck up in a million places and her nose nearly pressed to her tablet, Coran guiding her by the shoulders so she doesn’t walk right into the counter (again); Hunk and Lance side by side, Lance aggressively swinging their joined hands.

“Hello!” he announces loudly to the room, and it says something about him that every single one of them smiles on reflex, saying hi back.

Lance takes his usual spot next to Keith, Shiro on his other side, Hunk across from them. Under the table, Keith links their ankles together, because no one will look for it and every time it makes a pleased flush grow on the back of Lance’s neck.

“Guess what,” Lance says twenty seconds into a comfortable silence because nothing makes Lance squirm like not talking for ten seconds.

Allura sets her tablet down because she is nosey. “What?”

“I beat Keith at sparring today. Twice,” Lance brags.

Keith scowls at his goo. That’s true, but only because he fought dirty. Keith had him pinned and Lance kissed him, and what was Keith supposed to do, shrug that off? Unlikely. And unrealistic. It’s not like Lance is going to be doing that to fight enemies.

Well. He better not.

“Because you cheated,” Keith mutters.

“Nope, nuh uh, didn’t happen. You are just old and grey and losing your abilities.”

“I’m barely one year older than you!” Keith cries.

Lance smirks. “Elderly, basically. Geriatric. I went easy on you today because I was worried about your knees.”

“Oh, you fucking —”

“Boys,” Shiro interrupts sharply.

They both jump.

“One meal,” the Black Paladin sighs, hand sliding down his face. “Just — one fucking meal, where you two don’t fight.”

“I don’t get it,” Pidge comments, irritated furrow to her brows. “You guys hang out, like, all the time. You’d think you’d be able to talk without jabbing at each other.”

“I think they’re just weirdos,” Hunk says flatly looking at them with a very pointed expression. “I think they just enjoy going at each other. Like weirdos.”

Beside him, Lance averts his eyes, biting his lip to hold back laughter. Keith looks away so he doesn’t have to do the same.

“Sorry, Shiro,” Keith says, working hard to keep his tone neutral. “I’ll do my best to not rise to Lance’s bait.”

“And I’ll try really hard to be okay with stinky mullet’s presence as a whole,” Lance promises.

Shiro only shakes his head and sighs harder. Keith reaches over and pinches his boyfriend’s thigh in revenge.

After dinner, and an aggravated pinching contest that ends with them straight up brawling beside the table and the team looking like they wanted to pelt food good at them, they wait for everyone else to head out to the common room before making their way down to their rooms.

“We’re not joining everyone else?” Lance questions, looking pointedly at their joined hands, blatant as they are in the hallway.

Keith hums, lifting their joined hands and looping around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Lance stumbles into him, laughing as Keith manages to catch him and keep them both upright.

“Nope,” Keith says, smiling into his hair. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively — God, he really is becoming Lance. “They’re all tired of us, I think. Perfect opportunity for us to have some time without any interruptions, I was thinking.”

Lance grins. “Sounds good to me.”

The stumble into their room giggling.

———

Hours later, Lance is half asleep on his chest, and Keith traces lazy shapes onto his back. The hallways are quiet, even if he strains his ears. The only thing he can hear is Lance’s even breathing, and the steady thud of his heartbeat. He checks his watch — ten thirty. Everyone else is asleep or close to it.

It’s time, he thinks.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, lips pressed to Lance’s hair. “Wake up.”

“‘M not asleep.”

“Good.” Keith shifts slightly, forcing Lance’s head to move, which earns him a sharp smack on the arm. He grabs Lance’s wrists and holds it there, rubbing a thumb on the palm of his hands. “Up you get.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Lance.”

Lance groans loudly. “I am comfortable,” he laments. “Your tiddies are comfortable. I’m not moving, Pillow. Lie down in silence and be grateful you have the honour of sleeping with me. I’m a delight.”

Keith snorts, but doesn’t back down. “Get up or I tip you over.”

“Yeah, right.” Lance settles right back in, confident in the knowledge that Keith would do nothing of the sort.

Well, he’s wrong.

Careful to tuck his hand over the back of Lance’s head and neck, Keith flips them over at whip speeds, sending them sprawling over the side of the bed and onto the floor in a heap of skewed blankets and flailing limbs.

“You’re such a butthead!” Lance shrieks, smacking him repeatedly on the chest. Keith once again grabs both his wrists and holds tight, pinning him to the floor with his own body weight. He knows Lance isn’t really mad because he hardly puts up a struggle.

“I love you,” Keith says in response, leaning over to peck his boyfriend smack between the eyes. Lance huffs, grinning. “Come on. We’re going somewhere.”

“Ugh,” Lance groans again, but he grabs the hand Keith offers and pulls himself up anyway. He mutters derisively the entire time he gets dressed, but Keith wisely decides not to push it. “Let’s go, dingus. You better be bringing me to a five-star restaurant and then hotel.”

Keith bites back a grin. He knows his line.

“And where the fresh hell am I meant to find that, bastard?” he responds dutifully, wrapping his arm around Lance’s waist and tucking a hand into his back pocket as they walk.

Lance smiles coyly, leaning into him. “That sounds like a you problem.”

Keith rolls his eyes, smiling. “C’mon. We gotta stop in the kitchen first.”

Ignoring Lance’s pestering questions, which is one of his favourite hobbies, Keith steers them towards the fridge and grabs the basket he prepared, tucking it under his arm before Lance can steal it to look.

“If you peek I’m tossing it in the incinerator,” Keith warns.

Lance pouts. “That’s biphobic.”

“You’ll live.”

“Nope. I just found out the love of my life doesn’t accept me for who I am. I’ll try to choke it down, try to get over it, but it’ll eat me alive. Every night after you fall asleep I’ll cry until I pass out. Resentment will build. Eventually I’ll start turning away every time you kiss me. And then we’ll fight, and I will be too heartbroken to defend our relationship, and then all will crumble and we’ll be bitter exes until we die. I see it all now.”

“There are actual playwrights that are less dramatic than you,” Keith observes, looking at Lance’s gesturing in amusement. “I’m pretty sure most of them would beg for lessons.”

“They would be lucky as hell to have me.”

“They would be, baby.” He’d aimed for mocking, but his voice comes out fond and gooey and whipped and he knows it. Lance knows it too, judging by the shy little smile he sports, the pleased flush on his cheeks.

“Where are we even going?” he asks, a clear change of subject. “We’ve been walking the halls for ninety years.”

Keith scoffs. “We have not. And we’re going to the pool.”

Lance stops them mid-step, groaning. “Aw, come on! It’s nearly eleven, Keith!”

“And?” Keith asks, tugging him forward. He goes, but not without whining.

“You are the worst pool partner. You never just want to chill and float. Oh, no, it’s gotta be laps, you fuckin’ jock. Fuckin’ — olympic tryhard ass.”

Keith doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter, and through all his groaning Lance is laughing, too, and even when he’s complaining and being ridiculous and mocking Keith, Keith loves him. There’s not a second of the day when Keith doesn’t.

“Just come on,” he says, finally pulling them into the pool. “You’ll like it. I promise.” He holds his hands up to Lance’s eyes, raising a brow in question, then laying his palms over the top of Lance’s face when he isn’t told to stop.

Lance sighs, but he lets himself get manhandled, let’s Keith guide him up the walls like Coran showed them until they’re finally settled at the edge of the pool. Keith sets down the basket, takes a deep breath, and removes his hands from Lance’s face.

“Happy everyday,” he says quietly.

It takes Lance a moment to register the set up in front of him — the giant blow up kiddie pool floating on the real pool, layered in pillows and blankets. The projector on the wall, queueing Lance’s favourite movie — 10 Things I Hate About You, even though Keith can’t stand that movie and never lets it get picked during family movie nights. The soft lighting sending waves of dappled light reflecting all over the room, making the browns of Lance’s eyes shine gold. The scent of chocolate covered strawberries coming from the now-open picnic basket in Keith’s hands.

Lance m, predictably, bursts into tears.

“You — you jerk,” he cries, flinging himself onto Keith, who barely manages to catch him with an oof. “You are — the worst person alive. I despise you.”

Keith grins, setting down to basket to hold Lance in his arms properly, squeezing him as tight has he can, trying to — say, what he feels, with his body alone. Because there aren’t words for it, he doesn’t think, the way Lance is the first person he seeks out in any room he’s in, the way one touch from Lance has the tension melting from his body in bad days. How even when they’re at their worst and screaming in each other’s faces, there’s a voice in Keith’s head three times louder than anger that booms, don’t you dare hurt him. How he hasn’t felt this kind of safe with a person since his Pa; since he was tiny and young and not afraid of the world yet.

“I take it I win this dating thing?” Keith teases, face tucked into the crook of Lance’s neck.

Lance laughs wetly, breath still shuddering and tears still leaking out of his eyes, and turns his head to kiss him slowly, hands pressed to either side of his face.

“You’re a dickhead and I love you more than air,” he says, smile wide and breathtaking. Keith has to bite back to urge to do something insane like ask him to marry him. God. He’s so — hngh. How is Keith supposed to explain. What he is to him.

“C’mon,” Keith says instead of any of that, voice kind of hoarse. He wraps their hands together and pulls them closer to the edge of the pool, kneeling down and reaching out to steady the floatie and holding it as Lance crawls in. He hands him the basket and tumbles in after him, falling onto his chest, and he feels it shame as Lance laughs, quiet and fond, and he knows he won’t be able to move away. So he settles into him and Lance’s hands come up automatically to rest in his hair, and Keith fumbles for the remote and plays the movie and hands him strawberries and watches Kat and Patrick fall in love and thanks anyone who is out there, from every atom in his body, for getting Lance’s dumb ass tied to a tree and having Keith the only one available to save him. And for the magnetism, between them, and the way Keith has never been able to hide himself from him.

“I love you,” Lance whispers as Kat reads her poem, fingers tangled around locks of Keith’s hair. “I mean it. I do.”

Keith turns his head slightly to kiss the inside of his knee, eyes closed, breaths heavy. “I know.” He lets himself bask in it, Lance’s love, and smiles. “I love you, too.”

———

first part

based off this video

[holysheithyall]

high school au sheith where shiros the loser

[goldenworldsabound]

Shiroeeeeee 🥰🥰🥰

[kismetconstellations]

If I ever stop hating this show, I've either been replaced by a pod person, or I'm dead.