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It’s late. Very late. Shiro knows better and yet, he stays doing paperwork until ATLAS would force him to bed by shutting the lights.
The cockpit is barely lit, almost all of it coming from the keyboard and screens, floating and not, that surround him. It’s empty and only the vibrating sound of the ship accompanies him, so Shiro hears him first.
It’s been almost a phoeb since they have last seen each other; Keith left before his birthday. Now, Shiro guessed it was about mid-November on earth, and they still hadn’t spoken. But when he enters the cockpit, the comforting feeling that only vanishes when his friend isn’t around for long fills him up all over again, and he can’t help the relieved sigh that frees his arms as they hug.
“You stink,” he says, and doesn’t let go. Instead, he feels Keith snicker around his ribs. They stay like that for another second and when they depart, neither is letting go completely.
Shiro has his hand on Keith’s shoulder as the other man holds his waist in a loose grip.
The empty cockpit is the only one who sees them smile and take a look at each other. They search for wounds, scratches. For bruises and strange poses that speak of fractures or sprains. They’ve been doing this since… God, they lost track. Probably that horrible wake after the fight with Kuron. Definitely after Keith woke up in the hospital, altean mecha, defeated.
They are used to finding their tell tale signs of hurt; a broken lip, a wounded arm. Bruised jaw. The ones that used to worry Shiro the most were in Keith's eyes. With one distinct exception. He moves his hand now, covers gently the healed scar on Keith’s cheek. The other man smiles warmly and presses his hand over Shiro’s for a second before they both let go. This is something they’re also used to doing. Shiro will never stop feeling like a monster for it.
He searches his eyes for a last time and only finds dark circles under shiny, deep blue eyes. He recognizes Keith doing the same and smiles at the frown in his brow.
“You’ve been overworking, Captain.”
Shiro laughs at Keith’s tone. Trying to diffuse the attention from his lack of sleep, he responds, “I could say the same to you”. He wasn’t lying.
Keith cocks an eyebrow, but before he can say anything, Shiro asks, “I was waiting for you for longer. Everything alright, I suppose?”
Keith nods, “Yeah. We found a troupe that had been in prison for deca-phoebs and needed assistance…”
There’s a heavy silence. Shiro, who listens as he finishes the work he’d been doing, stops and looks to his side. Keith, who has got into the command pallet, speaks softly, low. The keyboard lights give him a graver look. Shiro gets closer by reflex.
“They were wrecked. So malnourished. Hurt.” Keith looks up and they are too close. His eyes are dark, like they are showing him the horrors he’s seen. And Shiro understands everything.
Keith continues piercing him to the floor with his look, speaking again, “Sometimes it’s too much. I feel so guilty.”
“You didn’t do this to them. “ Shiro’s response is also low, soft-spoken. He hasn’t stepped away. He should step away.
“But they fear me anyway. I see how mom and Kolivan feel and I feel worse, because it’s so much easier for me. And still, I-...” he trails off and looks past Shiro. He’s wearing shame on his face and Shiro wants to wipe it away. “I left early. That’s why I’m here... I’m a coward.” he finishes, escaping his eyes by looking at his feet. Shiro’s hugging him before the idea forms in his head. It’s practically embedded in him by now.
A moment passes before Shiro speaks into Keith’s ear. His hair has gotten longer, and it tickles his lips. Too used to ignoring the skips that his heart makes, he says, voice gentle but also grave. Serious. Because he needs him to listen, “You aren’t perfect, Keith. You gotta give yourself time to understand how you feel about all this. Your heritage. Your family.” Keith tightens his hold at that. “It’s not like you’ve stopped to take a breather. In all these years, you’re the one that’s worked the hardest. Even harder than when in war…”
A chuckle breaks the moment and when Keith breaks the hug, Shiro has to remember how to breathe; teary eyed and smiling generously, Keith’s shaking his head.
“Yeah, you’re the one to point fingers, right?” Shiro wants to argue, but Keith continues shaking his head and has already stepped back.
Shiro watches as Keith looks up, whole neck showing under the tight suit of the Marmoras and says, louder now: “ATLAS, some help here?”
Happy and agreeing sensations flow over Shiro as ATLAS shuts the keyboard and screens down, making the floor lights dance for his friend.
“She’s happy to see you”
“Happy to be back” Keith looks at Shiro and the moment seems significant. It’s gone in a second. Smiling at the display the sentient ship makes for him, Keith grabs Shiro’s shoulder, pushing him forward and towards the already opened cockpit door. “Let’s go, old timer.”
Shiro makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling.
He lets himself get dragged around the dim lit ship by his friend and silence accompanies them, comfortable.
His pulse is as it always is when around Keith. Especially after not seeing him on a day-to-day basis. Feels quick, a hummingbird on his chest. But again, he’s used to ignoring the thrum against his skin and just enjoys that he doesn’t have to feel cautious being this close to him. Because sometimes? Sometimes it’s too intimate. Shiro’s careful with the way he places himself when it’s about Keith. He knows there’s something there. The air charges with it, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Is he crazy? Is he imagining it all? He can’t be that delusional… right? There’s this undercurrent, powerful and all moving. An understanding between them that has lived without speaking in their long-lived friendship, and Shiro sometimes wonders...
But there’s nothing to wonder about now. They’re just two guy friends play-fighting as they move through the empty halls.
When they arrive at Shiro’s quarters, they’re both silently laughing, tight-lipped, so they don’t wake the others. They wait for ATLAS to let them in and Shiro obliges his head, his heart, to not notice the grip on his left hip, on his shoulders.
Keith lets go of him to go to the kitchenette to serve himself a glass of water that ends up being five. After, Keith groans, exhaustion slipping into it.
It’s simple when Shiro says, “Stay. And I can fill you in with details from the last reunion we’ve had with the rest of the coalition.”
Shiro’s taking his suit, and Keith eyes him casually. He has a cluster of grapes and is popping them in his mouth as he speaks, “You’re so annoying, Shirogane. Slee-ping. Sleeping. Have you heard of it?” he’s let go of the grapes and is now coming for Shiro, who’s laughing.
Keith grabs his shoulders and turns him to the bed. He pushes him, making him bounce. Shiro gasps, feeling his ears go red. Hoping Keith isn’t paying him much attention, he looks up. Apparently not; Keith continues to rant, half a joke, half serious, “I swear, it’s like talking to an old man slash toddler. Since when is work talk fun for you, huh?” Keith wears a beautiful grin and is now kneeling between Shiro’s legs, taking his boots. “I’ll go brush my teeth with your toothbrush now. So you learn your lesson.”
It takes a moment for the words to register, but when Shiro tries to get up it’s too late. Keith has run off to his suite bathroom and in an attempt to follow, he trips over the ankles of his tracksuit. A laugh echoes from the bathroom. Shiro groans. Kicking his clothes, he trots to the laugh, and sees Keith using his own toothbrush, while Shiro’s waiting perfectly dry for him to use.
“I’m hurt. Who do you think I am, Lance?” toothpaste sticks to his mouth. It’s messy.
Shiro shakes his head, but there’s nothing angry about it. He could never be angry right now.
Grabbing his toothbrush and the paste that Keith left lying uncapped on the counter, he says, before starting brushing, “I wouldn’t put it beneath you, Kogane. I was with you both in the castle-ship after all”
Keith kicks his butt jokingly. After rinsing, he starts taking his own Marmora uniform. Shiro looks intently at his reflection, starts brushing faster. In the background, listens to the man's reminiscences about old pranks.
“You were joking when you said- right?”
“Yeah.” Almost. He’s too tired now.
The darkness hugs them both as they lay over the open king-size bed. Keith showered, not wanting to stink up his “precious captain sheets”, so his still damp shoulder touches Shiro’s and the smell of his own shampoo on him fills him with absolute comfort.
“I’ve missed this,” he says. “Missed you”
“I wasn’t gone much” Keith’s tone makes Shiro grab his hand and lightly squeeze it before letting go.
“You could be gone two days, and I would be just as content as I am now with your return.”
Keith laughs and Shiro imitates him. Their hands, not touching anymore but still close, play with the air around them. Keith brushes his palm shyly.
“You say the most intense things sometimes.”
“Said pot to kettle.”
Keith chuckles. And there’s silence.
Shiro, “Sorry. I know I’m intense. I shouldn’t say those things…”
“No, hey. I wasn’t complaining. Just pulling your hair.” and a hand sneaks into Shiro’s fringe, pulling gently. Shiro smiles to the dark.
The atmosphere in the room is charged. The air between their hands is a tangible thing that Shiro wants to break so he can reach... His body shivers. The anticipation that has been happening since their reunion is here again. When before was a whisper, now has become a weight in his heart, his hands, his mouth.
Reach.
“Do you ever-” Keith cuts himself. They’re both holding their breaths. Shiro turns and watches Keith’s profile in the dark before it turns to him. There’s a laugh stuck on his throat and Shiro can see it bob up and down. It escapes. “Do you ever… feel this? I mean-” he stops and Shiro’s pulse is on his tongue. “I can’t be this crazy, right? Tell me I’m not crazy, Shiro.”
Shiro waits to see if his friend would elaborate, if he’s understanding well. So If he speaks, he won’t ruin absolutely everything.
Keith looks at him intensely. Eyes still shining with the lights of the digital clock. He has his mouth a little open and the always too long fangs can be barely seen in the small light. Shiro turns to him fully and waits another second. Maybe he’s reading everything wrong. Maybe-
He shakes his head.
The relief in Keith is a balm on a hurting body. The man lets out a laugh so freeing, so genuine and full, Shiro can’t help but be filled with the bubbles of his own relief. He wasn’t imagining it. Keith-
“I can’t believe it.” Keith looks at him. He’s grinning. They both are.
“What a relief,” Shiro says, looking at the ceiling. A quiet moment after the revelation. And it is, a relief. He feels Keith nod beside him.
“I thought I was insane. It’s good to know I’m at least not that naive.”
Shiro looks at him, “You’re never naive, Keith. With me, you couldn’t. We know each other too well.”
Keith hums in agreement and turns to face him again.
“The team thought we were dating.”
“Yeah. Allura has asked me every deca-phoeb for the last ten years.” They chuckle.
“I know. Lance didn’t believe me for the longest time. And then he asked why not.”
Silence. Long stares to the ceiling turn to eyes meeting.
“I know my answer. Tell me yours?”
Shiro sighs. “I always wanted to be someone you could rely on. When I started to feel like… this… for you… I don’t know. It felt like I was ruining it.”
“Even when you knew I felt the same?” There’s no reproach in his words. No sadness. Just curiosity. Shiro answers, “I never really knew until tonight.”
Keith rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”
Shiro chuckles. “Yeah, I do.” He pauses. Then, “I love you, Keith. It always seemed to be enough for you. Even when I suspected you knew how I felt and didn’t do anything.”
Keith looks at him for some time. Shiro waits, but it’s more processing what just happened. He said the words aloud. He spoke them as they needed to be spoken. As he’s meant them for so long. And incredibly enough, a weight’s gone from his chest. Even his heart beats at a lighter pace.
Keith’s response breaks his train of thought, “It was enough… It still is, actually.” Keith’s closer now. Shiro’s breath, caught. “That’s why I never approached like that. If I can have you in any way possible, then I’ll be happy.”
Shiro’s breath catches on Keith’s eyes. He smiles. “Once again, you’re the only one to get it.”
They both chuckle.
The night is chillier, but they are too close, so they warm each other's bodies. Shiro’s the one who breaks the silence, his voice rough from the hour and the question, “Have you ever wanted more?”
Shiro can’t really see it, but feels the weight of Keith’s look on his mouth before it disappears. He says, “Yes.” Pause. “Sometimes.” Another moment goes by, “You?”
Emotion wells up on his throat, and Shiro has to clear it a couple of times before speaking.
There are so many things going through him.
Yes’s and No’s and Always’s and No need’s. I have what you’ll give me’s and I don’t care for that, just want to be by your side’s.
They are all true. They all live and have lived inside him for more than a decade. Wanting more and having it are both things that coexist in their relationship, and he’s never made himself the space to truly think if he could have it because-
“All I’ve ever wanted was to be good to you, Keith.”
Keith’s breath gets caught and its absence echoes in the room. Shiro hasn’t realized it, but he’s stroking his arm lightly, fingers over the hard lines of muscle and bone, over soft veins. Once he catches on, he tries to pull back, not wanting to overwhelm. But his friend takes his hand to his chin and pushes even closer. Their chests are touching, their hearts, thrumming.
Keith, “You’re always good to me, Shiro. You’ve always been.” Shiro closes his eyes and at that, something inside him settles. He looks again. Keith is close to his face and his breath is sweet mint. He speaks again, “But do you want it, Shiro. Do you ever want more.”
Shiro opens his mouth to eat the scent of them. He nods.