#jamesandkeithweek

“Thanks guys.” Hunk says, he looks embarrassed, rubbing the inside of one wrist with his thumb. “I’m glad I got to see my parents. Even if we couldn’t help them this time.” He adds hesitantly.

“No problem, Hunk.” Veronica says, giving him an easy smile, and Hunk grins back.

Keith wonders if they knew each other, before all of this. Before pilot error, before Voltron, before the Galra attacked. Or if their easy connection is because so much of Lance is also in Veronica. He’s never been great with people, but even Keith can recognise their similarities; their smiles, their absolute care for others.

“But you should eat something, Hunk.” Veronica adds after a beat, pulling Hunk away by the shoulder. “And then to bed.” Keith hears her add, Hunk gives him a quick glance, a half smile, as he lets Veronica haul him towards the kitchens.

And then it’s just Keith and James. Alone, in the giant Garrison hanger. It’s lined with cars, with wheels large enough to handle any terrain. The jets are at the very back, the ones James and the other MFE Pilots fly, loom over the rest of them creating long shadows. Keith is hit with a sudden need to run, to get out of this situation as fast as possible, but Hunk and Veronica are already gone.

He glances back at James, who’s watching him with folded arms and arched eyebrows.

He looks anywhere but his eyes.

“I-I should go, too.” He stammers out, his voice weaker than he would have liked.

Come on. Some leader of Voltron. You can’t even look him in the eye. The voice in the back of his head taunts.

But James reaches out, a split second faster than Keith can react, his hand gripping Keith’s upper arm like a vice.

“No.” He says, his voice low, moving into Keith’s space, crowding him, so close that Keith can smell his aftershave. He recognises it.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me.” James says as Keith wrenches his arm out of his grip, finally meeting his gaze.

“What do you want, Griffin?” He asks, trying to put as much distance between them with his tone, his choice of name. He hasn't called him that for years. It hadn't taken long for him to fall into using James' given name, not after everything. The steely expression on James’ face flickers for an instant, before his mouth returns to a hard line.

Keith had been trying to avoid James since they returned to the Garrison. He’d tried to leave James behind on Earth as he and the other Paladins, crammed inside the cockpit of a blue mechanical lion, shot into space. It had worked, for the most part. James had become a distant memory, so apart from his life as a Paladin that it became difficult to reconcile who he was with James to who he is now.

But since he’d crashed back to Earth, crashed back practically into James, he’d tried to avoid his gaze. He’d tried to avoid letting his eyes trace the shape of his body through the MFE uniform.

They hadn’t exchanged words alone yet. Both too caught up in meetings and duties and missions.

“I want to know where you’ve been.” James says and Keith can feel the anger rising inside his chest at the words. Can feel the way James has already got back under his skin, like the dirt under his fingernails.

“I’ve been fighting in an intergalactic space war, piloting a giant flying lion, to try and stop the Galra from invading this planet and hundreds of others.” He spits out.

James just looks him up and down. Keith knows that it’s not the right answer. He knows it’s not what James is asking, not really.

Keith holds his gaze, not willing to be the first to break away. Not for James. Not today.

“Where were you Keith?” James asks, emotion cracking open his words, his hard, leader of the MFE's, second best pilot in the Garrison, top of the class, facade breaking right in front of Keith’s very eyes. James had always been the strong one in this, whatever sat between them. He'd been the one to try to pick up Keith's pieces after Shiro, after pilot error. But now their positions have switched. And It's Keith's fault.

“Why did you disappear?” James tries again, the words tumbling out of his mouth hard and fast, his hands finding purchase on Keith’s shoulders, clutching tightly to the paladin armour, shaking him lightly.

“The Garrison said you had been expelled, but you disappeared, there was no way to contact you, and it was right after we-” but Keith can’t let him continue, can’t let him spill the contents of their shared past onto a hanger floor.

He can’t hear it, not from James. Not today.

Not when so much has already been found and lost. His mother, found, but then left on an unknown planet to rebuild the Blades. Shiro, lost and then found. And then found again. His father, dead. Any hope of happiness he had on Earth, sabotaged with a punch to Iverson’s face.

“I ran away!” Keith cuts him off. His own breath coming out heavy. James looks momentarily shocked, pulling back slightly at Keith’s outburst.

“I ran, okay?” He continues, his voice louder than he wants it to be. But he can’t seem to speak any quieter. His emotions won’t let him.

“I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle pilot error, couldn’t handle being alone again. I never fit in here, James. So I left.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t let himself be happy. He hadn’t deserved it. Hadn’t deserved those few night of happiness. Not after pilot error. Not when Shiro was dead. He hadn’t deserved to get close to someone. Every time he did they had ended up dead.

“You left me.” James says, his voice raw from five years of pain.

And Keith is caught off guard by it. By an unsure and vulnerable James. It’s such a contrast from the James he knew. The one who could match him in fire. The only one who could match him in piloting. The only person who could shout as loud as he could; who could throw a punch as hard as he could. The only one who could kiss the fire in him into softness…

“I know.” Keith feels himself say. His throat feels like sandpaper, and it hurts him to speak.

James looks older now, Keith can still recognise him, despite the differences. He’s taller and his shoulders have filled out.  But his eyes are the same, filled with the same determination. It almost burns into Keith as James meets his eyes again. They’re inches apart, the tension between them dissipating into something low and dangerous. The end of a match before it’s been lit. Full of potential. But not ready to explode just yet.

“I was falling for you.” James says softly.

And then he moves forward, hands moving towards Keith’s face, gripping it lightly between them, thumb tracing the scar on his right cheek.

“Tell me to stop.” James says, so softly that Keith’s not sure if he was even meant to hear it.

But he doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t want James to stop.

Chapped lips meet his, and Keith responds instantly, his own mouth moulding to fit James’ like two puzzle pieces.

James takes a step forward until Keith is against the Garrison car, his body pressing against Keith’s until all Keith can think is:

James James James.

All he can feel is James. And he lets himself become engulfed in it, lets the fire take him.

And then he’d watched as the Lions lifted the machine, the Black Lion taking the brunt of the weight beyond the Earth’s atmosphere, saving the rest of them.

And he’d felt his heart drop with the Black Lion as it plummeted, with Keith still inside, back to Earth at impossible speeds.

The Black Lion had landed the closest to the Garrison, bringing a discarded watch tower down with it. It had taken hours for rescue teams to break down the rubble and pull its Paladin out.

It took two days for all of the Paladins to return to the Garrison, the Blue Lion landing the furthest, just off the coast.

All five Paladins had been brought to the Garrison infirmary, the official line was that they were recovering well from strain and minor injuries.

James knew that was bullshit.

He'd tried to fight his way into the ward a few nights later, unable to stop himself. It had been three nights since the fight, since Keith was pulled from the debris of the Black Lion’s crash site and he’d heard nothing.

“Just let me see Kogane.” He practically spits at the security guard. He doesn't know why the Paladins needed security, why the hospital even needs it. The security guard doesn't respond to him this time, doesn't even meet his eyes. He's taller than James, broader too. No way would he get past, even if he did know the security code to the door.

“This is a restricted area.” The guard repeats slowly, as if James is stupid and not one of the best pilots the Garrison has left.

“And why is that?” He asks, leaning back slightly to look the guard in the eyes.

He could try and force his way through, try to take the guard down. But unlike the guard, he doesn't have a weapon. Or the security code. He’d probably lose any future opportunity of seeing Keith too.

“Why don’t you want us seeing the Paladins of Voltron? Is Kogane awake?” he tries instead. But he doesn't get a chance to finish before-

“Cadet!” Someone calls from behind him, he whips around, it's a trained reaction now, to a grey uniform, a head of white hair, a scar across the bridge of a nose.

Shirogane.

Shirogane places a hand on James’ shoulder, leading him gently away. James doesn't miss the nod he gives to the guard, but he follows. Even if James doesn't like him, Shirogane is still a superior officer. They end up in the canteen, Shirogane dropping himself into a chair, looking at James expectantly until he does the same.

Shirogane’s hair is a bright, striking white now. But it doesn’t make him look older. If anything he looks just as young as the Shirogane in the photographs, just as young as the Shirogane James remembers from his early days as a cadet. He folds his arms, letting himself sit at ease. Shirogane hasn't given him an order yet.

When he'd first joined the Garrison he had admired Officer Takashi Shirogane. The Garrison’s golden boy. The best pilot in a decade. He’d hated Keith, partly for his relationship with Shirogane.

That illusion had cracked after pilot error. After Shirogane had, apparently, piloted the Kerberos mission into failure. It had cracked even more after he’d struck up a friendship with Keith. After he’d watched Keith lose himself in grief, in the despair of losing Shiro. He’d tried to help, offering Keith friendship, and then more. He’d thought it was working, Keith calmed down when they were together. Hidden behind the walls of his dorm room he was softer, vulnerable. But then he’d watched Keith throw away his place at the Garrison for Shirogane’s memory, leaving James behind too.

“Piloting Voltron,” Shiro begins, rubbing his temples with his human hand, “isn’t like piloting a fighter jet, or one of the MFE Jets. It takes your everything. It uses everything.”

“So?” He asks, trying to keep his voice even. This was the first time he’d spoken to Shirogane alone since he, Keith, and the other Paladins had returned to earth.

“So, that fight put their bodies under immense stress.” Shiro continues and James wants to stand up, knock the table between them over, grab Shirogane by the collar and shout: What about the time you put Keith under immense stress? What about the time you died, left Keith, left him here, broken without anyone to pick up the pieces?

But he keeps his mouth closed. Purses his lips together, just in case the words boiling in his chest break free.

“And they need to be kept under observation.” Shiro finishes, meeting James’ gaze.

So he switches tracks “Injuries?” He asks. It's curt, straight to the point. He doesn't want to dance around the facts with Shirogane. He just wants, deserves, to know. They would have told the other Paladin’s families this information. Keith didn’t have anyone besides himself and Shirogane waiting for him.

“Keith’s injuries?” Shirogane asks, looking a little taken aback.

James nods. He doesn't dare open his mouth. Just in case some of the anger finds it's way out of his chest.

“I didn’t realise you two were so close.”

No, of course you didn’t. You were dead. It was only you dying that brought Keith to me. He wants to say. But he doesn't. Because a part of him, a tiny, nagging voice, wants to know why Shirogane doesn't know about him and Keith.

Keith had left the Garrison, disappearing into the night. James had searched for him for a while but it was like a signal that had gone dead. Like Keith had fizzled out, like his rage had finally burst and taken him with it. He’d assumed Keith had wanted to leave him, along with the Garrison. But then Keith had returned, with Shirogane,  and he’d assumed that Keith had told Shirogane everything. He hadn’t expected their friendship, their relationship, to become a secret from Shirogane.

“We were.” He says through gritted teeth. Not wanting to give Shirogane any more. Shirogane already knew so much of Keith, if this was something solely between them he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to keep this part of Keith, the soft mummers in his ear late at night, the hands fisted in his hair, to himself.

Shiro watches him for a moment, looking him up and down, as if James’ name badge would give him a hint; James Griffin. Ex-Best friend/Boyfriend . And then Shirogane  sighs, his face softening, relaxing into that of a tired, worried, friend.

“I’m glad,” He finally says. “That he had someone looking out for him down here.”

James feels his cheeks flush, moving his gaze down to his hands, clasped in front of him on the table. He had looked out for Keith, for the months between pilot error and his disappearance. But there had been a year between that and his departure from Earth, between that and the first time Shiro returned.

“He doesn’t talk about the year I wasn’t here.” Shiro continues. “I was worried that he spent it alone.”

James can’t fight the lump building in his throat, the self loathing he'd felt when Keith had disappeared and he hadn't been able to find him. He had shared that worry. It had torn him up inside for a while. He’d been angry, at first. Angry that Keith had left without a word to him. And then worried. Worried that he was alone, that he would hurt himself, that he was dead. But then Shirogane had crashed back to Earth in an alien ship and three cadets had disappeared after breaking him out. He’d seen the footage from the break in. He’d seen the fourth member of that entourage. Had recognised the hair first, slightly too long at the back. Then the lean arms, and finally the fierce eyes peeking out from behind a bandanna.

“He did.” James says slowly, meeting Shiro’s gaze. Shiro doesn’t look surprised. Just disappointed.

He lets the confirmation sit between them, and James takes the moment to study Shirogane’s face again. The scar across his nose is deep, like the one that now sat on Keith’s cheek. He has more muscle now too, James had heard about Shirogane’s stint in Galra captivity. Maybe the scar had been gained then. Or maybe it was a newer addition.

“Keith sustained a head injury.” Shirogane finally says and James’ head jerks up, but Shirogane didn't stop there, reeling the injuries off.

“He also broke three ribs, one puncturing his lung. He’s broken a finger, the middle finger on his left hand.” It’s too methodical, James knows that if he asks him to clarify which ribs had been broken that Shirogane would be able to tell him.

“He’s been patched up, the punctured lung wasn’t as serious as it could’ve been. He’s on oxygen right now."

“The head injury?” James asks slowly. He’d heard that Keith came out of that crash unconscious. One of the pilots in his class had crashed once. He’d been knocked out, lying in the crushed jet when they found him. Head injury. He’d never returned to the Garrison.

“He was going in and out of consciousness when we brought him out of Black.” James tried not to imagine it. Keith, not all there, unable to keep his eyes open. Blood trailing down the side of his head.

“He was nauseous, confused. His pupils were different sizes.” Shirogane’s voice finally cracks on the last word, punctuating his clinical description for the first time.

“He’s sleeping now. We’re waiting for him to wake up on his own.”

James nods, unsure of what to do with the information, before standing up, the chair legs screeching against the floor behind him.

“Thank you, Commander.” He says. “Please let me know when I can see him.” He adds, before leaving.

When he gets back to his dorm room he splashes cold water on his face. It's the kind of cold that hurts. But he needs to feel it, needs to keep himself grounded. So that he can' get rid of the image of Keith, unconscious, unable to wake up, out of his head.

Keith wakes up four days later.

Shiro was the one to pass along the message. James didn’t even bother to respond, walking as fast as possible without breaking into a run.

It's late, there's barely anyone in the corridors. Shiro’s speech, the memorial service for those lost in the final battle had raised morale inside the Garrison. The other MFE Pilots and members of his class were out celebrating, reuniting with their families, thanking God that they were alive.

This time the guard at the door lets him through after a quick identity check. He makes a mental note to thank Shirogane for giving him clearance before storming through to the room marked Kogane.

The door is a ajar, and he doesn't stop, but he knocks anyway, more of a warning than a question. The walls are painted a bright white, like all the others in the Garrison. It's bare except for a bed and some medical equipment. In the dim of the evening he can make out Keith’s shape under the covers. The bandage wrapped around his head is a bright white compared to his dark hair. There's gauze , and more bandages on his arms. Wires protrude from his forearms and the back of his hands, feeding him, monitoring him. His eyes are closed in sleep, his face peaceful, relaxed.

James had only seen Keith sleep a few times before, the first time had been after an extensive underage drinking session. The second had been after a night spent together. Keith had collapsed onto him, and James had run his fingers through his hair until they were both breathing softly. The most recent had been after their kiss in the hanger. James had led Keith back to his room, and Keith had collapsed into him again, his lips trailing down the side of his neck, his hands gliding over James’ body.

He reaches out for Keith’s hair once again, carding fingers through it, careful to avoid the bandages. He’d wanted to do this since their reunion, since Keith had taken off the Paladin helmet. He’d wanted to make sure that it was really Keith, that his hair was still just as soft.

Keith’s chest comes alive at the touch, taking in a deep breath, opening his eyes slowly, squinting up at James.

“Hey sleepy.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low so as not to startle Keith.

“Hey.” Keith responds, his voice comes out rough from lack of use, but his lips turn upward in a small smile. He makes no effort to sit up, but a hand reaches for James’ latching onto his fingers.

“How are you feeling?” James asks, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Bad.” Keith croaks out and James can't help but laugh.

“Yeah, you were pretty banged up.”

Keith nods, his grip slacking.

James goes back to running his fingers through Keith’s hair. It's more intimate than they’ve been in years. They haven't had the time to discuss anything since that kiss in the back of the Garrison hanger. since that night. They’d shared a few glances, James had longed to reach out and grab Keith, give himself some reassurance that he was really there, that he was back. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it.

Keith opens his eyes intermittently, sometimes he speaks, asks a question. What day is it? How long was I out? Are the others okay? Where’s Mom? The last question worries James a little, he’ll bring it up with the doctor in the morning. Most of the time the sight of James seems to be enough.

“How's… Shiro?” He asks finally, eyelids falling shut while he waits for the answer, while James shifts uncomfortably.

“He’s fine. He wasn’t hurt.” He finally says..

If the words came out abruptly Keith didn’t seem to notice.

“Thank God.” Keith says.

James hated his job. He usually didn’t, but ever since this kid had been born, he’d been working overtime, for eighteen years now.

Keith was the nightmare of every guardian angel, and James thought it was really, really unfair how he had been assigned to him when he’d only been a child too. A child who just happened to be a guardian angel, but a child nonetheless. Keith definitely made sure James had to grow very responsible very quickly.

At four years old, he tripped on the first step of the wooden stairs in his home, falling down the entire flight as a result.

His father told him he’d been really lucky. Lucky, his ass, James thought. It was all his hard work, no luck involved. Just skill, thank you very much.

At five, Keith very, very nearly got lost in the desert and died from dehydration. It was only thanks to Keith’s apparent affinity to sensing supernatural energy that permitted him to subtly nudge Keith back in the right direction to the shed he and his father inhabited.

Keith’s father made sure to teach Keith everything about surviving in the desert he needed to know, so that was at least one thing less to worry about for James.

Then, at seven, he tried to climb a very old, very dry tree, which promptly decided to rid itself of one of his branches when Keith had climbed nearly all the way up.

James couldn’t protect him from breaking a bone, but he was able to make sure it was his arm that broke instead of his spine.

Those were all just the more terrifying incidents, of course. There were countless little accidents, such as cutting himself with a knife by accident (why the child had a knife of all things really was beyond James), falling off his skateboard, trying to pet approximately five snakes before his father finally remembered to teach him about venomous snakes. It was… a lot.

It got worse when Keith lost his father and got into the foster system, where there seemed to be more bad people on his way than bad ones. James did his best to protect him, but he couldn’t prevent him from acquiring a handful of new scars, both physical and mental.

But then, Keith had to go and get on a giant lion shaped alien spaceship with a bunch of strangers and fly off to space.

Space was pretty, James had to admit, and there weren’t that many guardian angels who got to experience it the way he was, since they were tied to their charge and all, so he supposed he could have thanked Keith for that.

But apparently, the price for the extraordinary experience - which got old kind of fast anyway - was a whole bunch of extremely messed up incidents and accidents that would probably have sent James into cardiac arrest, if angels had a beating heart in the first place.

Keith was being sucked out into space more than once, hunted by all kinds of strange creatures, decided to fight a group of Galra soldiers for days only to join their top secret organization. It was a mess, honestly.

During all those years with Keith, James had gotten used to the frequent dangerous situations Keith got himself into, and he liked to think he was at least somewhat calmer about it than he had been the first few years.

But when Keith was steering his fighter straight towards the barrier of the enemy ship to crash himself into it and save his friends, that was when James truly thought Keith was going to die. There wouldn’t be anything he could do against an explosion. He might have been an angel, but Keith was only human - alright, half human, but James seriously doubted Galra were fireproof - and there was no way he could survive something like this.

“God damnit, Keith,” James whispered. He had been by Keith's side ever since they were both children. By his side from the very beginning, and the only thing he could do was standing by Keith’s side until the very end.

Suddenly, something flashed in the distance and James whirled around for a better look. And- there, Prince Lotor’s ship was firing at the barrier, breaking it, and they were still going at full speed, too fast, too close, and James desperately grabbed Keith’s hands where they were wrapped around the levers, pulling them back with all his might so they dashed past the enemy ship in the last possible second.

“Oh my god,” James sighed, relief making his legs shaky. “That was so close, god, Keith.”

From that point, every wound Keith acquired in battle suddenly seemed a lot less scary to James, because if there was a wound, there was at least something that could be treated. A wound wasn’t always a hopeless situation. Anything was better than getting blown into pieces, quite honestly.

And then, they were on a solo mission gone wrong, and Keith was lying on the ground panting and trying to staunch the blood flow from his stomach as he waited for his fellow paladins to rescue him, but James could tell it was getting harder and harder for him to hang on.

“C’mon, I didn’t keep you alive for eighteen years just so you can die here, pull yourself together man,” James told him fervently. “If you die like this, I’m going to be seriously offended on your behalf because this is just ridiculous. You-” he cut himself off, because Keith’s head lolled towards him and Keith was staring, eyes surprisingly lucid considering his state, and he wasn’t just staring in his direction, he was staring at him.

“Uh… Keith?” James tried, because surely that couldn’t be possible.

Keith frowned, trying to say something but he coughed wetly instead. Only the second attempt was successful. “You…”

James’ eyes widened. “Wait, you can actually see me?” That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. If Keith could see him, that meant he was extremely close to death, even closer than James had assumed.

“Are you my… guardian angel or s’mething?” Keith slurred, his gaze becoming less and less focused.

“Yeah!” James said hurriedly, maybe conversation could help him keep Keith awake. “Yeah, exactly that. My name is James, I’ve been guarding your idiotic ass for eighteen years now and you haven’t made it easy!”

Keith huffed out a laugh. “Thanks. Y’re hot…”

James’ cheeks reddened. “Uh… thank you? You… you too?”

“You gonna stay with me until..?” Keith asked quietly, and James decided he didn’t like the tone one bit.

“No, no, you’re not going anywhere. Listen to me, I’m gonna stay with you forever, but your friends are gonna show up any second now, and you’ll be fine, nobody’s dying here tod-”

As if on cue, there was yelling in the distance, and only a minute later, Keith’s entire team stormed up to them, loud and worried and definitely capable of helping.

Stepping back, James locked eyes with Keith for one last time. “Stop being so reckless, will you?”

James was in the middle of unpacking his suitcase when the door to his new dorm room opened and a familiar person stepped inside.

“Seriously?” he groaned when he realized who it was.

“Yeah well,” Keith growled, “You’re not what I expected to see either.”

He stalked towards the free bed and threw his suitcase under it before turning on his heel and marching right back out of the door.

James was left staring after him. Just great. Out of all people, he’d just had to be stuck with Keith. As if it wasn’t enough that he absolutely destroyed him and everyone else in the simulator, he even had to share his room with that show-off now.  

Avoiding Keith was easy enough, even before they’d had a public fist fight, but even more so after that. James didn’t really see him as the outgoing type, not to mention he didn’t have any friends at all, so the most logical guess was that he spent all his time with Officer Shirogane who had for some reason started to mentor him or something.

James certainly didn’t mind Keith’s absence, as he spent the better part of the day in his dorm studying, when there wasn’t class of course. He would have hated to have to look for a new place to study if Keith had been in the room the whole time because he definitely wouldn’t have stayed.

Keith only got back a few minutes before curfew most of the time, and sometimes, he even snuck back out again when the night patrol had looked into the room and ticked them off as present.

When he did that, James itched to tell him off and remind him of the rules. He always felt nervous when Keith went out after curfew, as if it were himself who could be caught, which annoyed him more than anything considering he didn’t even like the guy. But he also knew it wouldn’t matter if he said anything, Keith was very unlikely to listen either way.

So when Keith disappeared in the middle of the night once again, James just sighed in defeat and turned on his other side facing the wall, trying to go back to sleep.

The unfair thing was that even though Keith spent most of his nights doing anything but sleep, he seemed to be in top shape every morning nevertheless.

James, on the other hand, was always tired, no matter how many hours of sleep he got. It was normal for teens to be tired a lot, according to the internet, and he was a cadet at a military school, so there was a lot of physical exercise that tired him out as well to the point where he barely even made it to the curfew at times. It made sense, he supposed.

What didn’t make sense was how Keith seemed absolutely unaffected by those allegedly normal teenage things. It was like he wasn’t even human.

There was one particularly bad morning; James had stayed up late to finish his homework - he took extra classes because his father was never satisfied, it was never enough, he could always do more - and he’d only gotten about three hours of sleep for the third day in a row.

They were assigned to the simulators that day, and for once, it wasn’t Keith who messed it all up. Instead, James proceeded to crash not only his own fighter but also take two others with him and leave the rest defenceless.

“That was absolutely horrible!” the instructor barked. “You all are gonna do extra drills tomorrow. Thank Griffin for that. Dismissed!”

A collective groan went through the group as they got out of their seats to leave.

“Fuck you, Griffin,” one of the other cadets muttered angrily, shoving him in the shoulder in passing.

James remained seated, the screen in front of him blurred as tears gathered in his eyes. He was sure he looked pathetic, sitting there slumped on his seat desperately trying not to cry, and the thought just made him want to cry more.

Quietly, he sniffled, and flinched when a hand landed on his shoulder hesitantly.

“Hey,” a voice said, and for a moment he wasn’t sure who had spoken because the voice was familiar, but he only ever heard it laced with anger or blatant disinterest. Now, it sounded almost gentle.

“Leave me alone,” James muttered weakly, blinking back tears. His cheeks burned in shame. Of all people, it just had to be Keith who was there to witness this moment of weakness.

The hand fell from his shoulders and the sound of soft steps grew quieter as they moved towards the door, and for some reason, that was when he broke for good and started sobbing uncontrollably.

They never talked about the incident. Keith remained as absent as ever, James threw himself into his studies.

A part of him regretted pushing Keith away because it had been one of the times during which he really could have used a friendly touch and maybe a few kind words. But receiving them from Keith… he couldn’t imagine it. They were nowhere near close enough for that, after all. Keith didn’t have to bother with his issues, and he didn’t have to bother with Keith’s. It was easier that way, wasn’t it?

Except, he was forced to throw that plan out of the window one night when Keith was actually in bed and asleep for once.

James had always been a light sleeper, so he wasn’t really surprised when he woke up in the middle of the night. Taking a moment to figure out what had woken him up, his eyes landed on Keith’s bed.

Keith was moving, sleeping fitfully, and he was… talking in his sleep?

James couldn’t make out what he was saying, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Wake him up? Just let him sleep and hope he calmed down on his own? Pretend he hadn’t woken up in the first place and it wasn’t his problem at all? That last option was stupid, there was nobody he needed to pretend for after all, and he couldn’t exactly fool himself on that one.

He kind of wanted to let the situation resolve itself, but somehow, it seemed cruel to leave Keith alone to deal with his nightmare. His mind kept replaying how Keith had touched his shoulder in what could probably be called a comforting gesture when he’d broken down in the simulator.

“Damn,” he hissed to himself before he threw back the covers and tiptoed over to Keith’s bed.

Now that he was closer, he could make out some of the words Keith was muttering. “Shiro… don’t leave… please…”

Shiro… that must have been Officer Shirogane; James had heard one of the other higher-ups call him that a few times.

James moved his hand and carefully made to touch Keith’s arm, but the second his fingers made contact, Keith shot up in his bed and drove his fist straight into James’ face.

Lying on the floor dazed, James groaned pitifully.

“Griffin?” Keith whispered. “Oh, shit!”

James sat up and gingerly touched his cheek where Keith had gotten him. It hurt, but the punch hadn’t been quite as hard as the time Keith had hit him deliberately. If he was lucky, it wouldn’t even bruise.

Keith moved off the bed and crouched in front of him. He looked pale and tired and his hair was sweaty from the nightmare. His hands were shaking ever so slightly as he hesitantly reached out to James before he seemed to think better of it and withdrew his hand, crossing his arms in front of his chest instead.

“This is the second time you punched me, what the fuck,” James complained, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. He was too tired to be angry, and to be honest, Keith looked like he didn’t need more shit right now.

“Sorry,” Keith said, sounding sincere. “I… didn’t mean to hit you. You just startled me. What were you doing there?”

James shrugged. “You were having a nightmare. I wanted to wake you up, I guess, but that wasn’t very smart.”

“Oh. I- thank you. You didn’t have to.”

James finally picked himself off the floor. It was getting cold and he longed for the warmth of his blanket. “Yeah, well. You gonna be okay?”

Keith nodded, straightening as well. “Yeah, I just need to…” he motioned towards his phone on the nightstand.

“Okay,” James said, stifling a yawn as he climbed back into bed. “Night.”

“Night,” Keith replied, getting back into his bed as well.

The screen of his phone lit up the room for a few seconds, and after a few more, there was a quiet ping that indicated a new message.

There was light for a few moments longer when Keith was probably texting back before the room went dark once again and Keith’s breathing evened out soon after.

Only after Keith had gone to sleep, James was able to fall asleep as well.

It was visiting day, and James was dreading his parents’ visit.

There really wasn’t a point, it always went the same way. They were going to demand he’d show them his grades. They wouldn’t be enough. He would be reprimanded. And then they were going to leave because they’d have the information they came for. It wasn’t like he ever asked about him on a more personal level, after all.

He was used to it.

Except, today was worse. He didn’t know what was going on with his father, but he seemed even less patient and more easily irritated than usual.

When asked about his grades, James handed them over in defeat, already knowing what his father was going to say.

“James, do you realize how much money we pay for you to go to this school? You weren’t good enough for a scholarship, but we’re still giving you the chance to be here. And this is how you show your gratitude? I’m starting to doubt you’re worth the money we’re paying to keep you enrolled here!”

It stung. It shouldn’t have, James had heard the same words over and over again, but it still did. “I’m sorry, I did the best I could-” he tried, but his father wouldn’t hear.

“Well then, obviously your best isn’t good enough.”

His father turned, walking out of the room without even saying goodbye. His mother followed suit, never even trying to defend him. She never had.

The door clicked shut softly and was banged open again only moments later by a positively seething Keith.

“Keith!” James gasped, cheeks turning red in shame as he realized Keith must have heard what his father said to him. “How much-”

“Enough,” Keith hissed, stalking over to James and coming to a halt directly in front of him. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

James nodded, trying to laugh a little, play it off, but it came out weak and pathetic. “Most of the time, yeah. He’s never happy, no matter what I do.”

“Well, he’s an asshole,” Keith told him fervently, and then his eyes widened. “Wait- does he hit you? I swear to god if he’s ever hit you-”

“No, no,” James quickly interjected, before Keith could actually stomp off and murder his father or something, “He’s never hit me. He just says things like… what you just heard. It’s okay, really. I’m used to it.”

Looking a tiny bit calmer but no less murderous, Keith scoffed. “That doesn’t make it better, you know. That’s still not okay.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” James whispered, defeated. He knew, of course, that it wasn’t okay how his father treated him, saw how other parents acted with their children, but it was different to say it out loud. More real, and without the trace of doubt that always accompanied the thoughts he had about this not being alright. Having Keith of all people telling him it wasn’t… for the first time, James felt like he was right and his father wasn’t.

“Thank you. I… needed to hear that. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ll get over it.”

Keith didn’t look happy, or like he believed him, but he nodded sharply and didn’t push.

“So,” James started, desperate to change the subject. “Why aren’t you with your parents?”

“Don’t have any,” Keith shrugged, but the way he pressed his mouth into a tight line betrayed the nonchalant way he tried to say it.

“Wait, what?” James asked in bewilderment. Surely, Keith had to have parents?

“Don’t have any,” Keith repeated. “My dad is dead, and I never had a mother.”

As if it were being punched into his mind, James suddenly remembered the words he’d said to Keith before they’d had their fight back then. Oh, god. He really was a jerk.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he told Keith sincerely. “I didn’t know, I swear. I wouldn’t have said what I did back then if I’d known.”

“It’s fine,” Keith said, with an apathy so forced James nearly shuddered. “You couldn’t have known.”

James wanted to say something else, to let Keith know he really was sorry, but he had a feeling silence would be more appreciated at the moment. “Okay. I’m… really tired, kind of, so I’m gonna nap for a bit, but you don’t have to leave.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Keith said, already walking towards the door. “I was gonna meet with Shiro anyway.”

The door was shut softly, and for a frightening moment, James wished Keith would have stayed.

Pilot error.

All the progress he and Keith had made was lost after those two words. They didn’t even go back to their previous antagonistic relationship. Instead, Keith ignored him completely, during the few moments they were both in the room. Keith only was there to get himself ticked off as present at curfew before he walked out again and stayed out all night.

He no longer looked in top shape after nights of no sleep. Now, there were dark circles beneath his eyes, he was pale, and his hair was a mess. His performances in the simulator were abysmal, and even the instructors gave up on yelling at him about it. Instead, they benched him, their top student, no longer good enough to complete the most simple simulations.

It was hard not to feel pity, knowing how much Officer Shirogane had meant to Keith, but James knew Keith wouldn’t want pity, so he focused on the anger instead.

Anger at the Garrison, mostly, for the way they dropped Keith as soon as he no longer performed the way they wanted him to. Nobody even tried to help him, they just benched him and wrote him off. It really wasn’t fair, he thought, how people only ever seemed to be worth something when they lived up to the expectations that were placed on them.

James wondered how long it would be before Keith lost his scholarship, but before it could even come to that, Keith punched Iverson in the face, got himself expelled, and disappeared without a trace.

James was a confident person, he knew his own worth. He knew he was one of the best pilots at the Garrison, aside from Shiro and Keith, and he knew that on paper, academically, he was a genius. He'd never had any self doubt, he never questioned himself, with everything he was faced with, he approached and dealt with the situations with determination and an inner strength fueled by self confidence.

In the face of this, however, the toxic emotions of self doubt and anxiety poisoned him. He hated this feeling, his palms sweating and a voice in his head that never used to be there, telling him to stop trying, to not bother. There was no way it would ever work out between them, after the long and bumpy relationship they'd had before? After what James had said, all those times he'd looked down on Keith and treated him so cruelly when they were kids... it was a stupid crush, and one that would never get anywhere.

Sometimes there were times when James thought he'd have a chance. Moments where he and Keith talked together about leading their teams, discussing missions, even sharing quips and jokes with each other, heavy with sass, sarcasm, and a healthy dose of dark humor. Something the two of them understood and responded to with snickers, while many of the people around them just watched them with concern.

When they were alone, when they really took the time to talk to each other, James honestly felt as if there was something between them, some miraculous spark that could lead to something more. Requited feelings, confessions, a relationship inspired by pure love and mutual respect. It was a false hope, clearly. All the partial smiles on Keith's lips when he looked at James, all those times he went up to James first and asked him to spar or partner with him in the simulations, even that time he asked James to give him a tour of his MFE fighter, were all just friendly encounters and formality, nothing more.

That became obvious the stronger James' affections became. Every day he fell harder and harder. Every time he sparred with Keith and got pinned by him, and every time he managed to pin Keith. Every meeting, every moment in passing where they greeted each other, James noticed Keith smiled a little wider each time, and it just made things worse.

But it wasn't going to happen, as much as he wanted it to. Keith smiled at him sometimes, fine, but he always appeared to be truly himself when he was with the paladins alone. More than that, when he was with Lance.

The interactions between the black and red paladins were decisively cordial. They trained flawlessly alongside each other, Lance followed Keith's lead without question, and when they did argue, it came off as good natured and familiar. James noticed it immediately, the way that Lance looked at Keith when the other paladin had turned his attention elsewhere.

The soft upturn of his lips, the half closed eyes as he looked at Keith as if he were the only person in the world, like no other human could be as beautiful. Lance touched Keith a lot, it was subtle, a hand on his elbow or his back, normally veiled by the thick paladin armor, so Keith probably didn't even feel it.

It was obvious how Lance felt about him, though, because the way he looked at Keith was the same way James did. Which made things complicated, because between him, the bratty kid who used to fight with Keith and even made the immature decision to bring up the parents that Keith didn't even have, and the Red Paladin who had sniper skills to rival Ryan Kinkade and even the status of a hero earned from his hard work and sacrifice fighting Sendak in the final battle of the war.

James couldn't even compare to that when all he was was an MFE cadet pilot who hadn't even graduated or been uniformed. The title of officer that they'd given he and his squadron was barely a formality because of the war. It had no merits when the war had ended and he still pulled on an orange uniform every morning.

He couldn't compete with Lance, so he had to hold in all his feelings and just watch from the sidelines, try not to let it shatter his heart whenever he saw them together. All James wanted was for Keith to be happy, and if being with Lance accomplished that, then fine. Keith deserved it, being happy. Above everyone else, Keith deserved everything.

The only time James ever felt like interfering in their relationship was one day in the training room. The MFE pilots, paladins, and a dozen other resistance members like Matt Holt, had converged in the big room to train and work out. Keith was sitting on a bench off to the side, having just finished a spar with Matt. It was hard for James to look away, keeping his eyes on the punching bag hanging by a chain, though he kept watching the paladin from the very corners of his eyes.

His black hair was tied back, pushed away from his face, which was beaded with sweat that he wiped away using a towel he had hanging around his neck, unwrapping the bandages around his hands and knuckles before rewrapping them more securely. He was dressed in a sleeveless shirt that showed off his impressive arms, and James was almost too distracted to concentrate on his own sets.

The Lance appeared, dressing in similar clothing but with a headband holding his hair out of his eyes, and similar bands around both wrists. He dropped down next to Keith on the bench, and Keith paused in what he'd been doing to glance over at him.

"Wow, who knew working out with old classmates would suck this much?" Lance sighed out, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands, "I miss paladin training where I could use my bayard."

Keith just hummed and looked back at his hands, "It's important to know basic self defense, Lance. What if you ended up stuck somewhere without your bayard? You can only do so much with it. You need to know how to defend yourself."

Lance tilted his head with a smile, "I appreciate the concern, especially coming from you," then rolled his head to the other side when Keith looked at him again, hiding the red on his cheeks and the wide eyes like he'd just realized how dumb that sounded.

"Why wouldn't I be concerned?" Keith asked, sitting straighter and folding his arms, "Shiro is too. You, Hunk, and Pidge need to train more at hand to hand combat. Allura I'm not worried about, and Pidge has been training with Matt so she's got a good grasp on things, in addition to their bayards being generally close range weapons. You and Hunk are used to fighting from a distance and using your gun-skills to your advantage against more skilled opponents, but that won't always be the case."

Lance had turned his head back to Keith and now wore a deflated pout and squinted eyes, as if Keith's words had been the exact opposite of what he'd been expecting, "I thought Allura was the naggy lecturing paladin in the group," he drawled, and Keith glared at him before securing the last bandage.

"Quit complaining about training if you don't like it. Just get to work," he stood up, and Lance leaned forward, hands against his knees.

"Are you busy after this?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue, and Keith stayed standing where he was, staring blankly across the room.

"Why?"

"Just wondering. I'm free after training, so I was wondering if you wanted to go out? You know, check out how Plaht is doing, get out of the Garrison for a few hours. Maybe get something to eat?"

Keith seemed to tense at the question, "Sorry, no," he said, leaning down to pick his bag up and hanging it over his shoulder, "I just remembered I was supposed to meet my mom and Kolivan for something. Keep training, don't slack. See you."

"Oh, okay," Lance waved at Keith as he strode quickly towards the door.

It was probably just a coincidence it was closer to the hanging punching bags, probably just coincidence that Keith and James looked up at the same time, eyes catching before Keith tore his away and exited the training arena. James watched after him, fists still raised in preperation for another punch, one he nearly sent into Lance's face when the red paladin popped up out of nowhere and leaned against the punching bag.

"Hey man," he greeted, and James jerked to the front as he punched forward.

Lance ducked out of the way and James' fist hit the solid surface of the bag, hissing and shaking his hand out as Lance stood back up, hands on his head.

"You could've just said hi back!"

"Don't just sneak up on me like that!" James yelled back, "Idiot!"

"Hmph," Lance stood straighter and dropped his hands from his head, "Well maybe if you weren't staring at Keith you would've heard me coming."

James tensed, hands still raised and curling into tighter fists, "What are you talking about?"

Lance shrugged, waving a hand as he side stepped out of the way so James could continue his sets, "I'm not an idiot, I notice things, and I've noticed how much you watch Keith. Seems kind of... I don't know, shallow to me."

James' fist hit the bag with a cracking sound, grinding his teeth before flashing his eyes to Lance, "Excuse me?"

"You never liked him before, in case you've forgotten," Lance jabbed a thumb against his own chest, "I was there when you harassed him for being an orphan, you were nothing but cruel, and suddenly he comes back better than ever so you think you have a right to ogle him like meat? That's my team leader, just so you're aware, and I'm not excited about you eye fucking him."

James turned his head fully to completely glare at the other cadet, "I'm going to say this once, and I'm going to say this slowly. I did not harass him for being an orphan. Yes, I made a misplaced quip about his parents, but it wasn't with the intention to hurt him," he took a half step back and turned his attention back to the punching bag, "and for your information, he was just as good before. Better than ever... did you even look at him in the past? Or are you just interested in him now that he's your beloved team leader?" he punched once, hard, enough to make an echoing banging sound that hollowed against the material of the bag, "And I'm the shallow one?"

Lance bristled, dropping his arms but pointing at James, "Look, you've got no idea what we've been through together, what we endured up there. We bonded out there, we grew together as people, we have a bond. I get you're interested, but don't try anything."

James snorted, leaning his shoulder against his punching bag, "You're hilarious. As if you could beat me in a spar at all."

"I'm just trying to save you from grief," Lance defended, his lips still twisted into something that looked like a pout, "You don't have a chance. Keith would never like someone like you. So come to terms with that and stop staring at him before someone else notices."

James just glared at Lance as he turned and walked away, over to where Hunk was across the room. All of that seemed out of place, uncharacteristic to Lance, as if he'd been pushed right to the edge of his own sanity before getting punted off like a football. War certainly did crazy things to your mind, but it didn't make James feel much better.

He was done training, didn't want another run in like that with Lance, so he grabbed his things and left, headed for the showers to wash his sweat and anger, and heartbreak, down the drain. He already knew Keith would never like him like that, he'd already come to terms with it, but hearing someone else say it... it was too much.

James didn't join his squadron at the mess hall that night, didn't eat dinner and didn't visit the rec room to relax with his team either. He stayed in his dorm, curled onto his side and glaring at the wall, arms wrapped around himself and nails biting into the skin of his upper arms. Part of him almost decided to join his friends, but nine times out of ten Veronica was there with them, and she was Lance's sister, so James didn't want to risk any kind of confrontation with her and her family.

It was dark by the time he moved, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed before leaning down, reaching under the bed and pulling out a box he had there, popping it open before lifting out an old highschool yearbook.

This was so stupid, the fact he'd kept this old thing, but couldn't stop himself from flipping through it to the back where group pictures from daily school life were. There were a couple with him in them, a few where he was with Ina, but the one at the back was what he always flipped to in the end. One where he's outside with a soccer ball in his hands, and Keith is standing in front of him. Both are looking at the camera, James is smiling, Keith looks wary.

James vaguely recalled what they had been doing before this picture had been taken, during PE when they were picking teams for soccer. No one had wanted to pick Keith, but James had gone up to him before anyone else could start the game and asked him to join his side. It was a pretty weak offer, but Kieth had agreed.

James threw the book aside and stood up, running his hands over his face before checking the time, after curfew, and leaving his room. He needed fresh air, that was it. It was past curfew, but it would be fine, he was pretty sure, so long as no one caught him.

There was a lookout point on the roof that was surrounded by a railing and was even furnished with benches and a firepit in the middle. Normally the astronomy class used this area for their night classes, but currently it was vacant, so James was alone like he wanted to be as he walked over and leaned against the railing with a slow sigh.

The slight breeze brushed past him, ruffled his hair, and the sensation of cold fingers snaking through his hair distracted him so he didn't hear the footsteps approaching. Didn't know anyone had shown up until they spoke out, called in greeting.

"James, isn't it past curfew?"

James jerked back away from the railing, hands drawing up into fists in defense as he spun on his heel, blinking a few times when the lights on the building silhouetted Keith's form, sending shadows across his face that made him look hauntingly angelic.

"Keith," James breathed his name, relaxing from his defensive position and standing straighter, "Uh, yea. I needed some fresh air is all."

"Hm," Keith stepped down into where the benches and railing were, "Never expected the stickler for the rules to break the rules."

"Hey, it's only like three minutes past, no one ever comes up here after curfew unless there's a class, and there's not. Quit bugging me about it."

Keith shrugged, hands in his pockets, and walked up to stand beside James, looking up at the stars that were nearly invisible from the light pollution behind them, "Didn't see you at dinner."

James blinked and turned his head down to glance at Keith, who wasn't looking towards him, "Wasn't hungry," he lied, looking back at the sky, "Didn't think anyone would care."

Keith shrugged his shoulders again, "Just something I noticed I guess. Are you hungry now?"

"Not really...," James muttered, looking off to the side, "I just wanted some fresh air before going to bed. It's not like I'm sick or anything, just... got a lot on my mind."

"Yea... me too," Keith folded his arms over the railing, dropping his head, "Didn't think I'd see you when I came up here though."

"You come here a lot at night?"

"I guess," Keith lifted a hand to scratch his cheek over the scar there, wincing before rubbing a thumb across it, "It's basically the only place I can be alone at this point."

"Yea. Sorry for being here."

"Nah, it's fine. Not like I hate the company," he dropped his hand from his face, idly rubbing the knuckles of his other hand as a short silence stretched between them, "So... I'm bad at this, so don't judge me, but... like, are you okay or something?"

James turned to look at Keith, confused for the second time, "Huh?"

"I mean... look I'm really bad at talking... just... you don't usually miss dinner, and you're never out past curfew. If you wanted fresh air you could've opened a window, but you broke rules, which you never do, and came outside. It just doesn't seem like something you'd normally do."

"Oh, and you know me so well?" James asked, tensing, and Keith scowled, stepping back.

"I just said I'm bad at this!" he snapped, and James reeled his head at the expression on Keith's face, scowling with red on his cheeks, "I'm trying to be nice!"

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," James insisted, hands raised, turning his head to stare down, "I guess I'm just not used to you being nice either. I'm fine, really. Thanks for worrying."

Keith sighed, shoulders slumping, and stepped back up to the railing, "Sure... but listen, if you need to talk, you know... I'll listen, I guess. Can't guarantee I can help, but... you know."

James felt something warm in his chest at that, staring up at the stars as he pondered Keith's words, before speaking, "Can I ask you something?"

"... sure..."

"If you liked someone, I mean really cared about someone like that, what would you do? Would you tell them? If it seemed like they were already with someone else, would you tell them? If... if you thought, so long as they're happy it's fine, you'll just keep your feelings to yourself?"

"Well, to be honest I've only had maybe one crush in my entire life," Keith admitted, holding his chin and looking off to the side, "Like I said, I'm not good at talking, so... I've kept it to myself."

"Wait, you like someone?" James asked, remembering hours earlier how Keith had anxiously turned Lance down; it made sense now, he just wasn't used to it, so when his crush asked him out, he got nervous.

"What of it?" Keith asked, arms folded defensively, "Doesn't really matter, it won't go anywhere."

"Keith of course it will!" James rushed out, feeling the inexplicable need to reassure him, even though he was ultimately giving up on his own feelings; so long as Keith was happy, "He already asked you out, I get you're bad around people, but you've known Lance forever, and he clearly likes you back! He already asked you out, I overheard it in the training room, he even basically told me that he liked you, so you shouldn't give up so easily-!"

"Whoa!" Keith turned sharply, slapping a hand over James' mouth to shut him up, holding the other hand up with one eyebrow arched into his hairline, a look of disbelief on his face, "I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You think the guy I like is fucking Lance?!"

James blinked, lifting his hands to pry away Keith's, "Wh-? Well yea! The way you act around each other? What else am I supposed to think?" Keith pulled away and ran his hands roughly over his face with a frustrated growl, "What, am I wrong or something?!"

"How are you so smart yet so fucking stupid?!" Keith demanded, and James straightened up as if ready for a fight, until Keith dropped his hands, "Look, Lance is not the person I like. I'm not interested in him romantically at all. No offense to him, he's a good friend and I trust him with my life, but romantically? Ewe, that's like dating my brother," he waved a hand in front of his face, which had paled just at the thought.

"Oh... oh," James gaped at him, "but... he likes you, you know that, right?" Keith seemed to wince, looking away, "... you do know."

"He makes it sort of obvious, but I'm not interested. I like someone else and I have for a while."

"Huh," James held his chin in thought, then looked at Keith, "Hunk?"

"What? No, what is this, twenty-one questions?" Keith rolled his eyes, "Hunk's great, and I'll be the first to admit he's ideal husband material, but no, it's not him," he jabbed a finger into James' chest, "and before you even ask no it's not Shiro either. I love him to death but not like that."

"Ah," James nodded slowly, then turned to stare out over the Garrison, "So... good luck I guess."

"What about you? Who is it you like that's stressing you out so much?"

James just frowned, "Doesn't really matter."

"Is, uh... Kinkade?"

"No."

"Hm," Keith folded his arms over the railing again, "Leifsdottir or Rizavi?"

"No."

"Uh," he twisted his thumbs together, "What about... Veronica...?"

"No."

"Anyone I know?"

"I should hope so."

"Hm."

James looked at Keith from the corner of his eyes, nearly breathless from the strange expression on his face, something open and almost... hopeful? Could that even be possible? Was James willing to risk whatever friendship he had with Keith just based on the fact he didn't like Lance?

"Go ahead."

"What?"

"Ask. I know you want to," James stared at the dark silhouettes of the mountains in the distance, nails again biting into his elbows, "Ask."

Keith was silent for a long time, like he was trying to figure out what James was talking about, before taking a slow inhale, "Is it me?"

Huh, James was actually impressed he'd asked. Unfortunately, James wasn't as brave as Keith was, and ended up not answering, which was the loudest answer he could have given. Then silence fell over them, James was expecting Keith to either scowl and call him gross or just leave. What he was not expecting was the way Keith side stepped closer and dropped his head against James' shoulder.

"Who knew..."

"Don't patronize me-."

"For how long?" Keith asked, and when James didn't answer, he did, "I think it's been since highschool for me."

"What?"

"Yea, pretty stupid. Especially when you factor in the years we didn't even see each other. Makes me hate that saying even more. You know the one, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Yea, I hate that quote."

"Wait, you're saying-?"

"You're the one I like, James," Keith stepped away, "Not Hunk, definitely not Lance," he turned to look at James, hesitation in his eyes, "You."

James' only response was to point to himself like an idiot, and Keith nodded, "So we... you like me, I like you, we like each other...," he held his hands out, "What's step two?"

"Hm," Keith rubbed at his scar again, shrugging, "Wanna go out?"

"Just like that?"

"Yea."

"But... Lance asked you out earlier."

"And I turned him down because I'm not interested in a romantic relationship with him, ever," he looked at James, "The one I want is you, okay? So if you want to keep bringing him up or-."

"Okay," James interrupted, eyes locked on Keith, who turned to him appearing surprised, "Let's go out. Like... let's really go out, start dating. Be my boyfriend."

Keith's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink, quickly turning his head away and rubbing his arm, completely taken by surprise, but nodding his head.

It was understandable that Keith talked about James right after the fight they’d had. It was also understandable that he talked about him for a few days afterwards, Shiro supposed. He was probably still angry at him, so that was fine.

But when it had been three weeks and Keith still started nearly every single of their conversations with something James had done that annoyed him

At first, Shiro hadn’t given it much thought, simply indulging Keith when he went off about that Griffin boy, but now it seemed a bit strange for Keith to be that… obsessed with him.

“Keith… I don’t mind you telling me all of this but why is it you notice James so much but never any of the other kids?” he asked carefully once Keith was done with another rant. He sincerely doubted Keith even knew any of his other classmates’ names, so the question was justified, wasn’t it?

But Keith stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Are you kidding? He’s just… ugh, he’s so irritating. I can’t help but notice him when he’s always so annoying,” Keith complained, making a face. “He’s always super fussy about following the rules and getting good grades and not talking shit at the teachers, who does that?!”

“Language,” Shiro reminded him, ignoring Keith rolling his eyes at him. “I just mean, you don’t care about what anyone else does. Nobody else annoys you. Why does he?”

Keith opened his mouth, then gave the question some actual thought and closed it again. “I…” he said, looking at a loss all of a sudden. “I don’t know? I dunno why I notice him that much, I just kinda do, I guess. I mean, it’s not even like he does anything to annoy me directly,” he muses. “It’s just that everything he does is annoying.”

“Alright,” Shiro said, sounding something between amused and exasperated. “It’s not nice to talk about your classmates like that, you know.”

Keith just snorted. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not my fault he’s annoying.”

Shiro sighed but decided to let it go. He wasn’t getting anything else out of Keith today, that much was obvious. “So, hoverbike?”

“Shiro?” Keith asked one day, sounding shy and insecure in a way he hadn’t in a long time, so Shiro was worried almost instantly.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” Shiro inquired, giving Keith his full attention. “Did something happen?”

Keith didn’t meet his eyes, instead, he kept playing with the strings of his hoodie, and… was he blushing?

“Keith,” Shiro said gently. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I was just wondering..:” Keith mutters hesitantly, but falls silent once again. “Nevermind. It’s dumb, I’m just gonna-”

“Keith.”

“Ugh, fine. I was gonna ask… how did you know you like Adam? Like like him, I mean.”

And just like that, the penny dropped. “Oh .”

Shiro coughed awkwardly. Out of everything, he hadn’t even considered this would be relevant just yet… although, now that he thought about it, Keith was an age at which most kids started being interested in someone. It had just been so easy to ignore with Keith, because Keith didn’t even attempt to make friends, let alone show any interest in anyone romantically. Keith wasn’t interested in anyone at all. Except… Oh.

Realizing he still owed Keith an answer, he put his hand to his chin in thought. “Well… I began to notice a lot of things about him. Physically, obviously, for example, that I really liked the way he styled his hair, and how soft it looked. And his eyes, they’re one of the most gorgeous features of his. Sometimes I felt like I was going to get lost in them,” he recounted. laughing when he noticed the mildly horrified look on Keith’s face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all sappy on you. There were other things too, of course. I noticed how he always adjusted his glasses when he got nervous, he has his own special way to do it. I noticed how he drank his coffee, and where he liked to sit in class.”

Shiro smiled at the memory. Adam hadn’t been his first crush, but definitely the most serious one. “Once, we got coffee together and I was there earlier, so I already bought his too. When he arrived, he asked me how I knew how he drinks his coffee.” He laughed. “That was kind of embarrassing, I think I told him it had just been a good guess, and then quickly changed the subject. I was kind of awkward, back there.”

Keith still looked sceptical, though, so he added, “But that’s not the way it has to be, you know. That’s just how it was for me. For you, it might be completely different.”

Keith scowled at him. “So you’re saying there’s no sure way of knowing if I like someone? That doesn’t exactly help me, you know,” he complained.

“I think it’s best not to think about it too hard. I’m no expert, but I think it’s something you’ll just know. There’s no universal way to go about it, and I’m afraid you’ll have to figure it out for yourself.” He reached out to ruffle Keith’s hair, and Keith let it happen for a few seconds before shaking him off.

“Thanks, I guess,” Keith sighed. “I gotta go now. Still got homework. See you tomorrow.”

“Sure, but don’t stay up too long,” Shiro told him before he could disappear from the room. “And don’t worry about it too much. Things like this usually work themselves out.”

Shiro started paying closer attention to Keith when they were with the other cadets. He still wasn’t interacting with anyone besides some curt replies when he was asked a question, but he did space out a lot.

That wasn’t unusual per se, Keith often spaced out, and most teachers had given up on calling him out for it since he still got above average grades no problem. The only difference now was that he usually stared out of the window when he was daydreaming.

Now, he was always staring at the same thing, or rather, the same person.

James Griffin.

It was kind of sweet, actually. James would be doing something, usually small things barely worth noticing, and Keith would be watching his every move, and he wasn’t even being subtle about it.

His expression was what kept everyone else from figuring him out, Shiro supposed, and he had to give him credit for it. His face was still as impassive as ever, seeming aloof and disinterested, and most people were probably mistaking his staring for spacing out staring at nothing.

But Shiro had background knowledge, and the longer he watched Keith, the more obvious it became he’d been right when he’d suspected James was the one Keith was had been talking about when asking about Shiro and Adam.

Watching Keith was fun, but observing James every now and then was also worth doing. James rarely spaced out, he was way too focused on his grades for that. But every now and then, Shiro would catch him doodling something on the sheet of paper in front of him for a few seconds, glancing at Keith from the corner of his eyes before quickly erasing the doodle and focusing on the teacher instead.

First crushes were an amazing thing, Shiro decided. They were sweet and innocent and if things went well and your feelings were reciprocated, you could figure things out together. And from the way it looked, Keith had a pretty good chance at having his feelings reciprocated.

Years later, Shiro returned to Earth with one arm less, his hair looking as if someone had taken a picture of it back on Earth then inverted the colours, and a whole bunch of teens he had come to consider family.

He was a war veteran, he’d lived through torture, gone through all kinds of crazy stuff in space, hell, he’d died up there.

So he really, really felt like he didn’t deserve having to watch the man he considered a little brother and his first crush going right back to dancing around each other without either of them actually making a move, again.

There were a lot of things that Shiro had in common with Keith. They both liked peace and quiet, they both woke up early, they both worked out to relieve stress, and both of them were phenomenal pilots. More than that, not just pilots who enjoyed flying, but who loved the sky, the air, the stars and the cosmos, and having that connection and deep understanding of one another was why they made such good friends.

In addition, there was something that Shiro had only just realized about Keith, yet another characteristic they shared. Shiro himself was not remarkably capable at dealing with his own romantic relationships. All exploits in the division of love tended to either end badly, or never even got off the ground because of his self doubt and lack of confidence in regards to his own worth and ability to maintain something even remotely romantic.

Keith, he'd always been one who seemed socially depraved. He'd never been good at talking to people, never been good at maintaining any relationship, never mind a romantic one. As a kid his biggest concern was surviving, and after being drawn up into space and thrown into the middle of a thousand year old space war, that survival instinct had become more refined, and had increased ten fold.

There was more to worry about now, especially considering that Keith was the head of Voltron. He had heavy responsibility on his shoulders, and as a leader, he had to concentrate on a lot more than working on just his social skills. Still, ever since they'd become paladins, Shiro had witnessed Keith opening up a tiny bit every day, becoming more comfortable around their team and their Altean allies, talking more, even joking around and showing a bit of his goofier side, which only Shiro was privy to in the past; before Kerberos.

After meeting his mother, Keith had returned even more open than before. He was calmer, more level headed, more mature, grown into himself. He got along with the paladins more so now than he ever had before, even with Lance, especially with Hunk. Shiro was proud of him, but it was being witness to the younger man's heart opening, not just his mind, that really made Shiro proud.

At first he didn't pick up on it, there was a lot to do that took his time and attention after all, and even when he did start noticing, it still flew over his head completely, because it was James. He was the last person Shiro expected to see Keith getting close to, especially after their tense relationship as cadets. Things had certainly changed since the war, that was blatantly clear, but it still took Shiro some time to see the signs.

Keith wasn't as tense when he was around James, hearing the MFE pilot call out in greeting from down the hall was enough for him to unwind from his usually tight and cautious posture. He was always standing close to James, and the two of them seemed to gravitate towards each other like dark stars, barely noticeable unless you already knew it was there. Even if they were on other sides of the room, they somehow ended up next to each other.

Standing or sitting near each other, as the seconds would pass by, they would lean closer to one another, until Keith was using James as a wall to lean against, arms crossed, or James had an elbow propped somewhat smugly on Keith's shoulder. They weren't exactly subtle, but they weren't showing off whatever their relationship was either. Publicly, their interactions were polite and friendly, so Shiro saw the signs, but translated them incorrectly, assumed that friends were all they were.

Until he was walking down the hall towards a meeting room, passing a hall to the left but pausing in his steps when his body seemed to have recognized people down the hall. When his mind caught up, he took a step back and peered around the corner of the wall to see it was Keith and James, standing at the window and looking outside down at the courtyard.

Keith's arms were folded, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to the window, and James was sitting on the window frame, legs stretched out and hands in his pockets, head tilted back against the glass. They hadn't noticed Shiro there yet, so he stayed where he was hiding behind corner of the hall, watching curiously.

"Peace keeping within the colonies around the Garrison and liberation around the Earth," James was muttering, eyes closed and brow drawn somewhat in irritation, "Back and forth trying to clean up rogue sentries, drones, and even Galra officers left on the surface. Mainly they've all converged into what's left of the facilities and worker camps, but it's annoying."

"Yea," Keith agreed, head tilting, "There are innocent people getting stuck in the crossfires of us trying to get rid of what's left of Sendak's militia. That's not including the occasional issues that pop up within the colonies here. It'd good we can manage it since they're in Plaht, but it's tedious to fly over when some alien is having a disagreement with a human."

"The little stuff is what's getting to you," James noted, "You can deal with a war, but after the fact, the tiny things building up are just stressing you out."

"Don't mention stupid shit like that unless you can fix it," Keith said with a slight scowl, and James opened his eyes, sitting straighter and reaching over to tap Keith's elbow with the backs of his fingers.

"Come here for a second."

Keith narrowed his eyes, but after a long minute of just staring, he pushed away from the wall and unfolded his arms, standing in front of James, who reached up to Keith's elbows and tugged him closer, until he could bury his face in Keith's stomach while Keith wrapped an arm around James' neck, one hand on his shoulder.

"Is this your version of fixing my stress?"

"Depends, is it working?"

"No."

"Then maybe I just wanted to hug you."

Keith sighed in annoyance, but he made no move to pull away as he shifted positions to get more comfortable. One leg positioned between James', the other propped against the window frame, one arm folded on top of his head and chin sitting against his forearm.

"You're too tense," James noted, playing with the back of Keith's uniform, "You should let off some steam before you snap during a meeting or something, where you can actually get in trouble."

"You suggesting I beat your ass in a spar?"

"You'd annihilate me then get even more stressed out, so no," James snorted, "No way I'm sparring you when you're cranky."

"I'm not cranky."

"Uh-huh, says the one pulling my hair."

"Oh, sorry," Keith pulled his hand away before returning it to the back of James' head, running his fingers through the shorter undercut at the back, "That doesn't prove anything though, I'm not cranky."

"Sure, baby," James moved his hands from the back of Keith's shirt to his hips, pushing him back a little to look up at him, "Is anyone expecting you for the rest of the day?"

"No, my schedule is clear. Mom wanted me to rest."

"Still getting headaches?" James frowned when he asked, and Keith shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly.

"The doctor said I hit it pretty hard when I crashed in the Black Lion. He mentioned the pain might be more psychological than physical. Almost like I can still feel phantom pain despite the injury being healed."

"And they're sure it's nothing serious? The headaches have been bothering you for a while now, I'm a bit skeptical about passing it off as you being a hypochondriac. No offense to the doctors."

"Kolivan doesn't trust them either," Keith admitted with a roll of his eyes, "but yea, I'm pretty sure I'm fine."

"Hm. Let's go for a ride then," James said, "Just ride into the desert for the day, get rid of the stress. I can't imagine the stress is making your head any better."

"My schedule might be clear, but what about you? Can you ditch like that?"

"The MFE's are getting some weekly maintenance, my squadron is either relaxing or training in their free time. They were so distracted they didn't even notice me sneaking out to meet you."

Keith was silent in response, looking off to the side in thought, before looking down at James, "Sure. Why not? Might be nice."

"Wow, you actually agreed," James sighed out as he stood up, "For a second I expected you to say no because it's completely within the rules to take a day to ourselves."

Keith immediately squinted, "You're saying you don't think I'd willingly go out with you unless it was breaking the rules? You know I'm a lot more mature than I used to be, right?" he folded his arms, "While I'm not against doing things against the rules, I'm not as bad as I used to be."

"Yea, yea, I know," James looped an arm around Keith's neck to draw him closer so their foreheads were touching, "Let's just go before someone decides to give us work."

Shiro scrambled over to another corner and ducked behind it before the two could see him, peering around the corner to watch them leave in the opposite direction. Who could have guessed those two would end up together? Shiro was wary, because of the walls that Keith always had up, worried that they'd never come down long enough for romance, but it seemed they were starting to crumble, around James at least.

And it seemed that James cared enough not to take advantage of that, either.

Shiro just smiled and leaned his back against the wall to watch the two of them leave. He was proud, really proud. Proud of Keith for taking a chance on love, proud of James for treating Keith with respect. Just from that short display, it was obvious James really cared for Keith, especially in his prodding of Keith's headaches (which Shiro was remiss to admit he hadn't known about until now).

“Dude, why do you keep staring at Captain Shirogane like that?” Rizavi asked when James glanced at the Captain out of the corner of his eyes one too many times and not as secretly as he’d thought.

“I’m not staring at him, shut up,” James hissed, actively trying not to blush, which was kind of stupid when he thought about it because he had never actually met anyone who had been able to control whether they blushed.

Needless to say, it didn’t work. “If you aren’t, then why is your face red?”

James needed new friends.

A little too quickly, he stood, nearly sending his chair toppling over in the process. “You guys are terrible. Now excuse me, I’ve got… stuff to do!"

Marching out of the room, he tried not to make eye contact with anyone, not his friends, and certainly not Captain Shirogane. He nearly headed towards the training facilities but remembered in time that Keith was there more often than not, so he turned on his heels and went for the hangar. He couldn’t just take his fighter and go out for some flying without permission, and he wasn’t Keith after all, but he could still wash it or something.

He was in the middle of scrubbing his fighter with a sponge when he heard someone approach and didn’t even have to guess who it was.

“What do you want, Ryan?” he asked curtly, not even bothering to turn around to face him. He’d thought he had made it quite clear he wanted to be alone - because of course he knew they didn’t believe his half-assed excuse - but of course, his friend had to show up anyway.

“Tell me what’s up,” Kinkade told him, and it wasn’t even nearly a question. And Kinkade could be stubborn, that much James knew.

But so could he, quite honestly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop being a dick. This is about Keith, isn’t it?”

James nearly dropped his sponge and hoped sincerely his hair would hide his ears that were very obviously bright red with how they were burning.

“I thought this was about the Captain, how did we get to Keith?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“You know what? Fine,” James half-yelled, throwing the sponge to the floor in frustration and hopping off the fighter to stand in front of Kinkade. “I need him to like me, okay? I can’t read the Captain, at all. I have no idea if he likes me, respects me, hates me, or if I even exist to him. I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me!”

“Why would he hate you? He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who randomly hates people, you know,” Kinkade moved, but James just groaned, frustrated his friend wasn’t getting it.

“It’s not random, that’s the problem,” James cried. “He was already friends with Keith when we had that huge fight in our first year here, he knows what kind of shitty things I said to Keith back there. And we weren’t the best of friends after that, either.”

Kinkade hummed in understanding. “And now you want him not to hate you because..?”

James stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you this stupid or are you just pretending to be? Keith is basically his little brother. And everyone knows big brothers are scary protective!”

“Ah,” Kinkade said simply, and James really didn’t like it. “So you finally admit you have a crush on Keith.”

And shit, he played himself. “I… never said that.”

“Whatever you say. Look, just get your shit together, Griffin. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. That incident happened years ago when you were both kids. You’ve grown up, he knows that. He won’t blame you for being a jerk back then anymore. Besides, everyone deserves a second chance.”

James hated to admit it, but Kinkade has a point. Captain Shirogane does seem like a reasonable person, he probably wouldn’t hold any grudges, would he..?

“Ugh,” James complained. “I hate this!”

“I know,” Kinkade said, patting James on the shoulder comfortingly before he headed for the exit. “Remember to get your shit together.

That evening, James decided to get his shit together for real, as Kinkade had put it so eloquently.

“Captain Shirogane? May I talk to you in private for a moment?”

“Sure,” the Captain replied, giving him a friendly smile as he got up and followed James out of the door and to a more private room. James hoped he’d still be as friendly when he figured out James’ feelings for his baby brother.

Captain Shirogane closed the door and looked at James expectantly. “So, what did you want to discuss?”

“I… uh-” Suddenly, words failed him. He hadn’t exactly prepared a speech, but he had gone over what he wanted to say a few times that afternoon, but somehow, he’d forgotten just about everything.

“If I may,” Captain Shirogane interjected gently, an amused smile on his lips. “I wanted to talk to you as well, so I can go first, if that’s alright. I have a feeling it’s about the same thing.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” James muttered, embarrassed, and then added, “uh, sir!” quickly when he realized he’d forgotten.

Captain Shirogane watched him with an unreadable gaze. “Are you serious about Keith?” he finally asked.

“I- we-” James stuttered, completely caught off guard. “Keith and I aren’t…”

“I know,” the Captain said, “But you could, if you two just stopped dancing around each other. Don’t worry, I told Keith the same thing.”

Now that was… “Does that mean-”

Captain Shirogane sighed. “It’s not my decision who Keith gets to be with, but even if it were, you’re a good guy, Griffin.”

There was a pause, Captain Shirogane contemplating his next words, and James just completely and utterly speechless.

“Look,” the Captain finally said, “Just… please don’t ever hurt him intentionally, and don’t just leave him one day without warning or an explanation. He’s been through enough in the past.” And he only just learnt how to trust again, that went unspoken, but James knew nonetheless.

“I also know you’ve been through a lot, so be good to each other. Talk. Better one time too many than not enough. Talk about problems, and about your happiness. You never know-” the Captain cut himself off with an odd glint in his eyes, and James had a feeling he was witnessing something he wasn’t meant to see, so he averted his eyes and nodded slowly.

“I- yes. I’m very serious about him. Thank you,” he said, offering Captain Shirogane a small smile of gratitude.

As he left the room and walked through the hallway, he mulled over the Captain’s words. Talk one time too many instead of not enough, he’d said.