Work Text:
In his nightmares, Keith is brought back to the moment Shiro(’s clone, Keith reminds himself) pinned him to the ground and brought the searing blade of his Galra arm to Keith’s face. If Keith thought his worst fear was Shiro leaving him behind, it’s something else to constantly experience the unthinkable—that Shiro would not just leave him behind, but try to remove him from the picture entirely.
Keith knows that Shiro has all of the clone’s memories, and just that is enough for Shiro to send him sad, guilty looks whenever he catches Keith rubbing at the scar. Shiro doesn’t need to know that Keith actually still has nightmares about it, and if Keith gets his way, he’ll never find out.
But it only takes one mistake.
One night it’s particularly bad. Shiro(’s clone) gets him in a chokehold on his knees. He wraps his arms around Keith in a mockery of an embrace, and tells him it will be okay. Keith wakes, screaming, to the feeling of the white-hot Galra blade materializing through his chest.
Sometimes the memories of his dreams pass after the morning, but this time it lingers, and Keith spends the day with the feeling of the nightmares echoing throughout his limbs. He considers cancelling his sparring session with Shiro that afternoon, but they’ve been so busy that this weekly activity is the only time they can consistently be alone together, so Keith decides to push through it.
It’s a mistake. When Shiro gets him on his knees near the end of their session, Keith immediately begins hyperventilating and clawing at Shiro’s arms in blind panic.
Shiro is quick to jump away from him. “Keith, are you all right?”
Keith falls on his hands and knees and consciously evens out his breathing. He knows this is Shiro, and he’s safe; his muscles just didn’t quite get the message yet. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay.” His arms are shaking, so he flops down and onto his back as he collects himself.
He sees Shiro at the edge of his vision and makes a vague ‘come here’ motion with one of his arms.
Shiro starts hovering over him instead. “How can I help?”
“Just—” Keith closes his eyes and throws out a hand until Shiro grasps it in his own and squeezes. Shiro is real. This comfort is real. He’s safe, he’s safe, he’s safe.
After a few minutes, Keith feels calm enough to roll onto his side, towards Shiro. Shiro’s sitting criss-cross next to him, and Keith ends up face-to-face with a large knee. He looks up into Shiro’s worried face. “Sorry about that.”
Shiro looks offended. “Sorry? That isn’t—You don’t say sorry for that, Keith. You can’t control when you’ll be triggered.”
“I had a feeling I would be,” Keith says, though he skips the end of the sentence, which would be and I ignored it because I wanted to spend time with you. “I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t.”
“That’s still nothing to be sorry about.” Shiro squeezes his hand. “If you want to push yourself, I’ll support you. And there is absolutely nothing to be sorry about or ashamed of if you realize you needed more time after all. You’re the one who taught me that. Just… I know this was probably because of me,” Shiro says, with all the guilt on his face that Keith’s been trying to avoid, “so if we shouldn’t do this anymore—“
“No.” Keith sits up so quickly that Shiro only narrowly avoids getting his nose smashed. “This isn’t about me trying to get over it or whatever. I want to do this with you. I had a bad dream, and my body remembered it just now. That’s it. I’m not scared of you, Shiro.”
“I know,” Shiro says. His voice is gentle.
It makes Keith feel flustered for whatever reason. “Well, good,” he says. “So we’re on the same page then.”
He starts to stand, but Shiro stops him with a hand on his shoulder, a warm weight that Keith instinctively leans into.
Keith tilts his head in question.
“Listen. About… about what happened back then. And what you said.” Shiro’s hand slides up Keith’s shoulder to his neck, thumb stroking the scar on the side of Keith’s face to indicate what he’s talking about.
Keith’s heart stops.
You’re my brother. I love you.
Keith thinks about what he said far more often than is healthy, and he has avoided talking about it with anyone, but especially Shiro. Shiro has rejected him hundreds of different ways in his mind and his dreams and the Blade of Marmora’s psychoanalyzing mindscapes. He doesn’t need to experience it in reality.
But Shiro seems determined this time, so Keith resolves to suck it up and listen. It’s a good thing he’s spent a lifetime hardening his heart against disappointment.
Shiro takes a deep breath. “Keith, you have to know that I love you, too.”
Shiro loves him. Loves him too. Loves him the way Keith loves him.
You’re my brother. I love you.
Shiro loves him as a brother, Keith concludes.
“I couldn't have made it through these past few years without you,” Shiro goes on. “You’ve done so, so much for me, and I know there's no way I'll be able to make it up to you, but I hope that you'll let me try, in my own way.”
In his own way.
It’s all Keith has wanted to hear, but his heart sinks at the knowledge that Shiro’s own way will be nothing but platonic. He wants to confess that Shiro doesn’t understand, that he wants more, but Shiro is looking at him with such earnest eyes that Keith can’t bear to ruin the moment.
Keith looks away. “You don't have to make it up to me,” he says. “That's not why I did any of it.”
“I know,” Shiro says. His thumb falls from Keith’s scar to trace his jaw instead. He puts a gentle pressure there to encourage Keith to face him again, and Keith does, albeit somewhat reluctantly. “You did it because you love me. Let me love you too.”
Keith’s hands tremble as he places them on Shiro’s back, and he leans in that final distance to bury his face into Shiro’s neck. He could never reject Shiro’s love, platonic though it may be.
Shiro releases a huff of air, sounding almost amused, and draws his arms up around Keith’s back to hold him. He also tilts his head a bit, resting his cheek on the top of Keith’s hair.
Thirty seconds, Keith decides. He’ll give himself thirty seconds to enjoy the feeling of Shiro’s large, warm hands wrapped around his back and the gentle tickle of Shiro’s breaths on his hair. He tightens his embrace the last few seconds, then draws back.
He glances up, and Shiro is smiling softly at him. Keith looks down and swallows. He can’t think of anything to say.
Shiro’s hand slides down his arm until he’s holding Keith’s hand and squeezing. “Hey.”
Keith looks up. Shiro’s expression hasn’t changed.
“Come to dinner with me?” Shiro says.
Keith blinks at the change of topic, but he guesses that, like him, Shiro doesn’t really know what to say. So he clears his throat and says, “Yeah, of course.” They always go to dinner after training, since they’re both always starving by the time they’re done. Sometimes they just go out gross and sweaty and let the night air do its work, but today Keith thinks he needs time to cool off. “Let me shower first?”
Shiro gives him an assessing look, and Keith gathers up all of his romantic feelings and buries them deep inside of himself where Shiro will never see them. After a moment, Shiro lets go of his hand. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea for me, too. Meet you at your room in thirty?”
Keith nods his assent and they part ways.
On his way back to his room, Keith’s feelings overtake him. He can be prepared for rejection all he wants; to actually experience it will still always hurt. He lets the hot stream of the shower wash away his tears, and by the time he meets up with Shiro outside, he’s ready to act like everything is fine, because it is.
Nothing has changed.
Honestly, Keith is proud of himself for keeping things normal. Yes, it hurts to be rejected, but his friendship with Shiro isn’t a consolation prize; it’s something to be valued in and of itself. So he continues to nurture it even as he’s nurturing his fractured heart.
He keeps going to their spar-and-dinner sessions, and to the occasional other random meals they manage to squeeze out time for in their busy weeks, and Shiro remains none the wiser about his less-than-platonic feelings.
Shiro also remains none the wiser about Keith’s continued nightmares because Keith has been being very careful to hide it. He’s taken to taking the space wolf with him to their sparring sessions, since he can trust the wolf to get him out of basically any situation Shiro can put him in.
He can also trust the wolf to “fetch” Shiro for him. Shiro’s not nearly as used to teleporting as Keith is, and he’s so disoriented every time that it’s easy for Keith to pin him. (Those times usually devolve into Shiro accusing him of cheating and then playful wrestling on the floor, which the wolf is more than happy to jump in on.)
Unfortunately, the wolf gets a little too used to fetching Shiro, which Keith discovers the next time he wakes up screaming from a nightmare.
“I’m here, Keith, I’m here,” Shiro says, voice soft but laced with a restrained panic as he pulls Keith in with one arm. “It’s a dream. It’s just a dream. Come on, baby, come back to me.”
Keith looks at him through bleary eyes. Shiro’s sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough to pull Keith in, but far enough that he can easily spring out of the way if Keith attacked. Sitting on the ground not far from him is the space wolf, which explains how Shiro got into the room.
Keith opens his mouth to apologize, but Shiro beats him to it.
“I swear, if you say sorry,” Shiro says. He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it.”
“Worst threat ever,” Keith says. His voice comes out raspy, and he winces.
Shiro huffs and squeezes him tighter until Keith grunts in protest. “Forgive me if I’m not in a great threatening mood right now. Keith, you were saying my name.”
Keith closes his eyes. “Can we pretend this never happened?”
“I won’t push you to talk about it,” Shiro says. “But I can’t ignore the fact that I’m hurting you just by being here.”
“You’re not! It’s when you’re not here.” The words spill out in Keith’s haste to reassure Shiro, and he immediately regrets bringing it up.
Shiro leans back from him, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I noticed it when you were staying with me in the Black Lion,” Keith says, because there’s no getting out of explaining this. “I had less of these nightmares when you were there. Maybe because if you were there, my mind wouldn’t remember when you were gone.”
“Keith,” Shiro says, too softly. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
The answer is obviously, but Keith manages to prevent himself from blurting that one out and instead just looks up at Shiro with wide, surprised eyes. “You—what?”
“I mean, I’m not—I wouldn’t mind just sleeping here with you,” Shiro says. “We don’t have to do anything.”
What would we do? Keith wonders in concern. He hopes Shiro isn’t going to suggest they try talking about their feelings or something. He really does not want to share the nature of his nightmares.
“If you… want to,” is what he says out loud. It sounds less than enthusiastic, so he adds in a more alive-sounding tone of voice, “I would like that a lot. If you would.”
Everything that comes out of his mouth is cringeworthy, so Keith decides to quit while he’s ahead. He lies back down and scoots to the side to give Shiro space.
Shiro seems appeased enough to let Keith go and start climbing into bed with him. Shiro fits, but his side will be right on the edge of the bed, so Keith rolls away from Shiro and onto his side to give Shiro more room. Since he’s facing away, he’s completely blindsided when the heavy weight of Shiro’s arm lands across his waist.
He manages to disguise his flinch of surprise into a shuffle as Shiro tugs him back against a broad chest, head tucked under Shiro’s chin.
He is being spooned.
Shiro is spooning him.
Yes, Keith’s bed isn’t huge, but it isn’t tiny either. He already moved over to give Shiro enough space to fit somewhat comfortably without any spooning happening. But maybe Shiro would just prefer cuddling him over living with the possibility of falling off the bed. That’s the most reasonable explanation, Keith decides. It makes sense for Shiro to make himself comfortable in bed, even if it sets Keith on edge.
Because it’s not that Keith doesn’t enjoy it; it’s that he enjoys it a little too much. But out of respect for Shiro and their completely platonic relationship with each other, Keith moves himself so that no part of his lower body is making contact.
“This okay?” He can feel Shiro’s chest rumbling behind him.
“Great,” Keith says, trying to not sound like he’s having a heart attack. He mentally wills his dick to go down. “Good night, Shiro.”
“Night,” Shiro mumbles sleepily into his hair, and eventually Shiro’s deep, even breathing lulls Keith to sleep.
If he thought Shiro sleeping across the room from him in the Black Lion was good, cuddling with him is even better. Keith wakes up feeling more refreshed than he can remember despite only getting a few hours of restful sleep, and he laughs a little in surprise.
“Good morning?” Shiro says. His arm is still slung around Keith’s waist. Keith turns his head to look at him, and he’s smiling too.
“Yeah, really good,” Keith says. “How about you? Did you sleep okay?”
“Honestly, I feel like I haven’t slept this well since Kerberos. I don’t usually have the best dreams, either,” Shiro adds with a wry smile.
“Oh,” Keith says. He wouldn’t ask Shiro to do it again if it just benefited him, but if it’s helping Shiro out too… “Well, you’re welcome to sleep here whenever you want.”
“Why, thank you,” Shiro says, his tone somewhere around teasing.
It seems like an odd response, and Keith stares at him in confusion for it, but Shiro barely acknowledges him before he rolls over to look for something on the nightstand.
“Guess it’d be too much to ask for the wolf to have brought my arm, too,” Shiro says.
The space wolf looks up from where he’s laying across their feet before promptly popping out of existence. He comes back with Shiro’s prosthetic dangling from his mouth.
Shiro laughs and takes it, then rubs the wolf’s head affectionately. “Spoke too soon. Thank you.” He turns on the arm and the field between his shoulder and the prosthetic forearm materializes into life. He looks apologetically at Keith. “I wish I could stay longer, but I’m supposed to be working with the MFEs this morning.”
“It’s fine, I should get up too,” Keith says, though he makes no move to do so.
Shiro laughs and ruffles his hair.
Keith frowns at him. “I’m on the same level as the space wolf, I see.”
“You’re better,” Shiro assures him, and kisses the top of his head before he more or less bounces out of the room.
A well-rested Shiro is apparently one that acts his age, instead of twenty years older. Maybe the last time Keith has seen Shiro so playful was before all this started, when they were still young and dumb and racing hoverbikes off cliffs in the desert.
Shiro deserves to be happy, and Keith’s goal in life is to make that happen.
So when Shiro shows up at his room that night with an extra pillow and blanket, Keith doesn’t hesitate before letting him in. Shiro is warm and comfortable and as much as Keith wishes Shiro were in his bed for a different reason, the reality is that he needs something that Keith can provide, and Keith is giving it to him, no questions asked.
Keith’s not delusional; he knows that he and Shiro aren’t going to last forever. Everyone in his life leaves at some point, and Shiro is no exception. But no matter what else happens between them, Keith knows Shiro is going to take a piece of Keith’s heart with him when he goes.
So Keith is going to savor each and every moment they have together, knowing it could be the last.
And if he spends the night secretly hoping for just one more night together, well…
Keith’s always been weak for Shiro.
Keith takes a few minutes every morning to prepare himself for this being the day Shiro decides he’s done with the whole sleeping together thing, but it turns out to be a wasted effort because Shiro shows up again the next night, and the next, and the next, and after a couple weeks of this Keith realizes that Shiro has more or less moved into his room.
It’s a routine for them now, as much as their sparring sessions and their dinners, and eventually Keith stops thinking about it and files it away as another Shiro-and-Keith thing.
Honestly, their sleep schedules have been so much better since it started, and Keith doesn’t know if he can ever go back. He can’t remember ever sleeping through so many nights peacefully.
After nearly a month of this, Shiro has difficulty sleeping for the first time. Keith keeps drifting off, but every time he’s finally about to fall asleep, he’s jostled awake by Shiro shifting around behind him, trying to get comfortable.
Keith rolls over into Shiro’s space. “You okay?”
“Just restless,” Shiro says. He looks it. He’s flopped over onto his back, and his hair is rumpled and his pillow is sideways from all his rearranging. “It happens sometimes. Am I waking you up?”
“It’s fine,” Keith says. “What do you usually do when you’re too restless?”
Shiro looks up, thinking for a moment, then his eyes flick to Keith’s face and he blushes hard.
Keith raises an eyebrow and thinks of what he does if he can’t sleep. If he’s up to leaving his room then he’ll run drills, sometimes, either in the flight simulators or against the training bots. If he wants to stay in bed… Well, he’ll read, if he’s feeling productive. Masturbate, if he’s not.
He pauses on that last one and looks at Shiro’s bright red face again. His eyes dart down to Shiro’s crotch before he can stop himself. There is a bump underneath the covers that Keith can’t take his eyes off of.
Oh.
Oh.
Shiro notices him looking and goes even redder if possible. “I don’t—I mean—if you don’t feel comfortable—“
If he doesn’t feel comfortable? Keith turns that over in his mind. Does that mean Shiro’s offering? Because there may be infinitely many worlds of infinitely many possibilities, but there isn’t a single Keith who would turn down the opportunity to touch Shiro’s dick.
To prove it, Keith does just that, shoving his hand under the covers to place his palm flat against the imprint of Shiro’s cock against his boxers.
Shiro squeaks.
Keith frowns and draws back. “You seem like the uncomfortable one here.”
Shiro grabs Keith’s wrist and more or less slams his hand back against his crotch. “I am great,” he croaks, even though Keith is fairly certain that Shiro just used Keith’s hand to slap his own dick. “Wonderful.”
This seems like a disaster, but one that Shiro wants, so Keith moves closer and pushes aside the flap of Shiro’s boxers to take him in hand. He keeps his touch light, studying Shiro’s face to make sure he’s still comfortable.
The tension in Shiro’s shoulders release, and eventually he makes a frustrated noise and bucks up into Keith’s hand.
“Impatient,” Keith says, and Shiro starts to grumble at him, but then Keith takes a firmer grip and Shiro’s noises turn into moans instead.
Shiro pulls him down by the shoulder to mouth at his throat, which makes for a very awkward angle for Keith’s wrist, but he’s not going to say no to Shiro’s lips on his body. The hand at his shoulder slides down to Keith’s hip, gripping hard, and soon Shiro’s thrusting into Keith’s hand and panting, breath hot against his neck.
Shiro must be really pent-up, Keith thinks, because after only a few minutes of what Keith would deem a solidly mediocre handjob (due to the awkward angle) Shiro is pawing at his hip and gasping, “Keith, Keith, I'm—”
Keith slides down a bit to bury his face against Shiro's jaw and make soothing noises. “It's okay, you can let go. Come on, Shiro. Come for me.”
Shiro comes with a soft cry, spilling over Keith’s hand and his own abs. Keith continues to work him through it until Shiro’s noises take on a pained edge and he bats Keith’s hand away weakly.
Keith lets go and takes a moment to admire the view. Shiro flushed and breathless against the rumpled sheets is a very pleasant sight. The come slowly dripping from Shiro’s abs and onto Keith’s sheets is decidedly not, and as the wet spot grows Keith decides he should take action.
He turns away to get a towel, but he’s stopped before he can get off the bed by Shiro’s arm tugging him back by his waist. “Hold on a second.”
“I’m just going to clean you up,” Keith says.
“Why?” Shiro says. “We’re not done yet.”
“We’re not?”
Shiro rolls his eyes and tugs Keith closer, with much more force than necessary.
“No, wait!” Keith says, but it’s too late. Shiro pulls him over him and off-balance, and Keith is sent sprawling across Sheith’s torso. The evidence of Shiro’s release squelches between their abdomens.
“This is gross,” Keith says, squirming in Shiro’s hold. He is not a fan of sticky liquids on his body, no matter where they come from. “You’re gross.”
Shiro laughs and kisses him right on the lips before reaching between them to take Keith in hand. Keith’s hands fly up to grip Shiro’s shoulders. His mind is blank, his world narrowed down to Shiro’s firm grip and measured movements and the gentle press of Shiro’s lips against his own.
He comes embarrassingly quickly, gasping his release into Shiro’s mouth.
Shiro makes a pleased noise as he wipes his messy hand on Keith’s side.
Keith groans at him and tucks his chin down to headbutt Shiro’s throat. “Why are you like this.”
“You love it, baby,” Shiro murmurs into his hair.
Keith does, but he wishes Shiro wouldn’t mess with him like this. They both know this isn’t going to happen again. Platonic sleeping together is one thing; platonic kissing and handjobs are on a whole other, completely unsustainable level, and he knows it can only happen the once.
Keith resolves to enjoy the afterglow while it lasts.
Platonic kissing and handjobs become a thing.
Only once becomes only once a week.
Only once a week becomes every other night.
It doesn’t take long before they’re getting their hands and their mouths on each other every night, unless one of them is actually too tired to function.
Shiro starts getting experimental with his prosthetic’s features, namely vibration and temperature control. (Keith asks Shiro why his arm would ever need to vibrate in a normal situation; apparently Matt added the feature, but Keith gets no real explanation.)
Those nights usually end very well for Keith, but he can’t look any of the Holts in the eye afterwards knowing what Shiro’s been getting up to with their invention. He doesn’t know how Shiro does it.
One night Shiro uses his mouth, and Keith feels emboldened to do the same. Platonic blowjobs get added to their routine. (“They’re called brojobs,” Lance tells him when Keith hesitantly asks if platonic blowjobs are a thing. There’s a term for them, so this must be normal after all.)
Some time after that, Shiro’s fingers begin to creep tentatively towards his ass, and Keith’s response is extremely encouraging. Which is how he ends up with Shiro fucking him into the mattress. That also becomes a Thing That They Do.
With each new escalation, Keith questions Shiro’s motivations a little bit, but the explanation comes easily to him every time: Shiro misses this. Shiro had a boyfriend, once upon a time, who he presumably did these things with, and now he doesn’t. Hadn’t, really, for years. It’s not hard to imagine that Shiro wants to experience some of that old comfort again now that they’re not busy fighting a war.
Keith’s sure that soon Shiro will find someone more permanent in his life who he can do these things with again; until then, Keith is happy to provide.
And it’s not as though Keith is suffering from it. As long as he keeps his feelings tucked away, Keith finds that he can enjoy it on a purely physical level. Shiro is a considerate lover, and Keith spends most nights drifting off to sleep more than satisfied.
It’s when it starts bleeding out into their public lives that Keith starts to become concerned.
It’s little things—Shiro’s hand landing on his hip when they talk instead of on his shoulder like it usually is. Shiro’s fingers drumming casually on his thigh when they’re sitting next to each other in meetings or at meals. The lack of careful space between their lower bodies when they share their lingering hugs.
Honestly, Keith doesn’t really notice until one day Shiro slips and calls him ‘baby’ in front of Iverson.
Iverson!
This public stuff needs to stop. He needs to remind Shiro they’re not actually boyfriends, and giving people that impression will hurt Shiro’s chances of actually finding a real boyfriend.
Keith would like to pretend that they’re actually boyfriends, though, even though he knows it will hurt him more in the end to let this go on, and he finds himself putting off the conversation again and again.
Then Shiro absentmindedly kisses him in front of the entire Atlas crew, and Keith knows that this needs to stop, for real.
He can’t let Shiro’s reputation be tarnished like this.
Unfortunately, this all happens the night before his birthday, which is, for once in his life, a major celebration and not just a day like any other. So he can’t talk to Shiro about it because Shiro is back late and then out the door again before Keith wakes up, getting Atlas and the MFE pilots prepared for the air show (Keith still can’t believe there’s an air show on his birthday), and Keith won’t see him until the evening at least.
It’s fine. Things have been escalating for months now. What’s one more day?
So Keith rolls out of bed to meet up with the rest of the team to prepare for Voltron’s portion of the show. (Keith also can’t believe they’re making him perform for his own birthday.)
The show goes off without a hitch, and then he’s off to the huge party that the Garrison is throwing in his honor. It’s exactly the kind of event he dislikes most. It takes up most of the afternoon and mainly involves Keith shaking hands with a bunch of people he’s never met. Some of them are humans, but many of them are aliens from the Coalition who managed to make it down for the festivities. It’s draining, but he knows that it’s a good opportunity to help Earth build bridges with the intergalactic community, so he bears with it.
He doesn’t see the rest of his team for most of the afternoon, but as the party begins to wind down, he spots Pidge hovering by the refreshments and starts blinking SOS at her.
She appears in a heartbeat, grabbing his arm and pulling him away as she says, “Sorry, we need him for something, it’s very important! We’ll catch up with you later!” When they get outside, she says, “Actually, I was coming to get you anyways.”
His senses go on high alert. “Is something wrong?”
She waves her hands at him. “No, nothing like that!”
“It’s afterparty time!” Matt cheers as he comes up beside them, slinging one arm around Pidge and one arm around Keith.
Keith stares at him.
Pidge elbows Matt hard. “What part of ‘surprise party’ didn’t you get?”
“What? It’s a surprise? No one told me that!”
Pidge rolls her eyes and turns to Keith. “Act surprised, will you? Lance worked hard on organizing this, even if he apparently forgot to put ‘surprise party’ on the invitations.”
“Um, sure.” Keith is not a good actor, but he’s also not going to let down people who’ve worked hard for his sake, even if what he really wants to do right now is just crawl into bed.
Pidge and Matt lead him back to their house. Matt had apparently entered a polyamorous alien relationship during his time in space with the Coalition, and as they walk he regales Pidge and Keith with tales of his boyfriend and girlfriend’s culture shocks upon visiting Earth. He also brags about having the first interspecies relationship, until Pidge reminds him that Keith is the product of one from two decades prior.
Matt actually looks disappointed. "Damn, that means Shiro's got me beat, too!"
Keith's heart stops, because doesn't that mean Shiro's found a new boyfriend, after all? But he's not strong enough to ask Matt about it right now, so he adds it to the list of things to discuss with Shiro later.
When they start walking up the driveway, Pidge says, “Remember, act surprised.”
Keith gives her a thumbs up.
“Surprise!” Pidge and Matt chorus as they shove him through the front door.
There’s actually a sizable group crammed into the house—Sam and Colleen are there, of course. Lance, Hunk, Allura, and Coran are standing next to a giant cake. Scattered around them are the Atlas crew and the MFE pilots. His mom and Kolivan are off to the side, with a handful of unmasked Blades and Axca. Shiro is standing next to his mom, holding the space wolf like a giant baby.
Before Keith can even react, Lance launches the group into a loud and embarrassing chorus of “Happy Birthday” while Matt and Pidge whoop and spray him with champagne from behind.
He sputters as champagne soaks into his clothes and his hair, and the space wolf appears next to him to try to help lick it off.
In the end, he doesn’t have to fake being surprised after all.
Despite his reservations and his dislike of dried liquids on his person, the party is actually not so bad. There’s something about being able to go from person to person and know that they actually care about him as a person, and he collects as many hugs as he usually does in a year.
It’s nice.
“You look like a drowned cat,” Shiro says after the second round of singing is over (Lance had insisted that it was tradition to sing again around the birthday cake while Keith made a wish) and they’re all sitting around eating Hunk’s unnaturally delicious cake. He flicks at Keith’s bangs, sticky with champagne. He’s not even trying to hide his laughter.
Keith glares at him. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, baby.” Shiro leans in to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Keith is reminded again of the conversation he wanted to have with Shiro about this kind of thing, but there are too many people around. He settles for giving Shiro a vaguely warning look, hoping he’ll get the message.
Shiro just smiles at him and then clinks his glass to lead everyone in a toast.
Keith watches with a growing feeling of dread.
“Keith’s been embarrassed a lot today, so I’m going to keep this short to avoid embarrassing him too much more,” Shiro says, which does not help with Keith’s anxiety any. He turns to Keith. “Keith, you are an amazing leader, friend, and partner. I know I’m speaking for everyone in this room when I say that we love you, and we couldn’t be more blessed to have you as part of our little family.”
Leader, friend, partner, family. It’s nice to have clear words for how Shiro sees him, and Keith is relieved to know exactly where he stands, even if it’s not where he wants to be.
Everyone cheers at Shiro’s words, and Keith raises his glass and blushes in acknowledgment.
“I’ve told you this before,” Shiro continues, “but I absolutely wouldn’t have made it these past few years without you. You’re my anchor, and I wake up every day wondering how I got to be so lucky that I get to call you my boyfriend. I love you so much, baby.” He raises his glass. “Happy birthday, Keith.”
“Happy birthday, Keith!” everyone echoes, apparently finding nothing strange in what Shiro just said.
Keith, meanwhile, is busy having a heart attack. Even the sounds of cheers and clinking glasses can’t drown out the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears or the words my boyfriend repeating endlessly in his mind.
When Shiro nudges him on the shoulder, Keith manages to smile weakly and clink his glass against Shiro’s before promptly draining the entire thing in one large gulp.
He tries to stay social the rest of the party, because he really does appreciate everyone coming out for him and it’s nice to have a group of friends and family for the first time in his life. But he can’t help it; he’s distracted by the thought that he and Shiro are boyfriends—have been boyfriends for some time, possibly—and everyone has known except him.
Keith could just accept it and move on with his dating-Shiro life, but he’s consumed by wondering when Shiro’s feelings became something more. Did Shiro start realizing his feelings after their fifth night sleeping together? Between the thirtieth and thirty-first handjobs? When he finally got his dick in Keith’s ass?
Keith needs to know.
So that night, as they start stripping down for bed—and how long has it been, exactly, since they started sleeping together naked?—Keith asks with all the casualness he can muster, “Hey, Shiro. When would you say our anniversary is? Just so I don’t miss it.”
Shiro smiles as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “I guess our relationship is a bit confusing, isn’t it?”
Understatement of the millennium.
“If I had to pick, I’d say when I asked you out for the first time,” Shiro says, looking almost bashful. “In the training room. The first time I told you that I love you.”
Keith resolved to accept whatever answer Shiro gave him with grace, but he can’t help it—this is too out of left field. He sputters. “You what?”
Shiro looks taken aback. A myriad of complicated expressions cross his face until it finally settles somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You had no idea, did you. Keith, I told you I loved you.”
“Like a brother!”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said you loved me. Platonically,” Keith says. He remembers this. He cried over this.
“I definitely didn’t say that,” Shiro says. “Are we talking about the same conversation? It was four months ago, after you had a… a nightmare about me.”
“I know what time you’re talking about.”
“So you remember I asked you out to dinner afterwards,” Shiro presses.
“We always have dinner together after training!”
“That time was different.”
Keith stares at him. “How was it any different?”
Shiro throws his hands up. “I confessed to you!”
“Platonically,” Keith reminds him.
“I admit I could have been clearer that the dinner and every other dinner after that was a date,” Shiro says, “though in my defense, I thought you knew because you never said anything when I brought you flowers.”
“I thought you were just showing off your garden,” Keith says. Shiro had taken to gardening in his free time now that they’re back on Earth where plants can actually grow. Keith wasn’t about to rain on his flowery parade.
Shiro just shakes his head. “I can’t believe you misunderstood me telling you I loved you. There aren’t many ways to interpret that, you know. What did you think when we started sleeping together?”
Keith shrugs with one shoulder. “It helps with our nightmares. We’re comfortable with each other. So what?”
“Keith,” Shiro says. He looks as though he’s just had a realization. “Keith, we’ve had sex. Did you not think that was weird?”
“We’re very comfortable with each other,” Keith clarifies. He feels a bit numb. “There’s nothing wrong with platonic sex between friends.”
“There’s no such thing as platonic sex!”
Shiro might have a point there.
They stare at each other for a long, silent moment.
Shiro buries his face in his hands. “I can’t believe we had sex before you even knew we were dating. And people tell me I’m bad at relationships.”
“What? You were the one in a relationship with someone who didn’t realize he was in a relationship!” Keith says. “We didn’t kiss for months! Didn’t you think that was weird?”
“I thought you just wanted to take it slow!”
“Shiro,” Keith says. He plants his hand on Shiro’s knee and looks him straight in the eye, because it’s important that Shiro understand this. “I put my hand on your dick immediately after you suggested it. Immediately.”
Shiro stares at him. His face begins to redden.
“If you told me you wanted to fuck me, I would have jumped on your dick before you even finished your sentence,” Keith says, just to really make sure Shiro gets it.
Shiro turns away and coughs delicately. “I… I see. So, uh. So you didn’t want to take it slow.”
“I have been waiting. For years,” Keith says.
“That is good to know,” Shiro says. His voice is oddly stilted. Keith was the one who got the surprise of his life, but it seems that Shiro’s the one struggling to comprehend the reality of Keith being very, very into him. “Sorry, this is just—I’m just surprised? Relieved? I’ve been so worried about messing things up with you—“
“You could never,” Keith says. “I love you, Shiro. I want you to be able to talk to me about anything. I know we can work through anything together.”
“You’re one to talk,” Shiro says, sounding more like himself again. “Since apparently you thought I was using you for your body this whole time.”
“I didn’t think you were using me,” Keith says defensively. “I just thought we were… platonically helping each other sleep. With some sex. And brojobs.” He feels a bit embarrassed about it now. In retrospect, his logical explanation was really not logical at all.
“Brojobs?” Shiro laughs. “Where did you get that from?”
It dawns on Keith that Lance is a fucking liar and he fumes silently.
“You’re ridiculous,” Shiro says, but he sounds affectionate. He reaches out to take Keith’s hands, tugs him closer to the bed, and draws him down for a kiss. He pulls back a few inches to look into Keith’s eyes. “Let me be very clear this time. I love you, Keith. In a way that means I want to talk with you, and sleep with you, and have sex with you, and spend time with you in whatever way you’ll let me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Keith’s heart is growing so quickly in his chest that he feels like he might explode. He’s getting embarrassingly teary-eyed.
Shiro is starting to look concerned, so Keith hastily swipes at his tears and gives him a smile. It comes out a little wobbly, but at least he’s not crying. He clears his throat and says, with forced ease, “Wow, Shiro. I just found out we’re dating and it sounds like you’re proposing already.”
Shiro looks taken aback, and hesitates for a moment too long. “No comment.”
“Shiro!”
Shiro lays back, pulling Keith down on top of him, and kisses him again. “I love you.”
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Keith wraps his arms around Shiro and holds on tight. “I love you, Shiro.”
I love you.
He never wants to let go.