#sheith drabble

Thank you for the ask, Rach! This is for you @whiskyandwildflowers who induldge my obsession with frat boy Shiro. 

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Keith recognizes the throat clearing before he hears the smooth timber of Shiro’s voice and he looks up from the stack of books he’s still only halfway through cataloging to see an all too familiar shock of white hair sticking out through a hideous black and tye dye snapback. The hat might be atrocious but it’s on the head of the most attractive man Keith has ever seen. It’s been nearly six months to the day since Shiro first walked into the library and he’s still not sure if that makes it better or worse.

“Can I check this out if you’re not too busy?” Shiro asks, as if Keith would be doing him a favor. As if working at the circulation desk isn’t his job.

“I suppose I can find the time for you, Shirogane,” Keith answers, pushing his feet on the floor and rolling his chair a few feet to get him directly in front of the computers—directly in front of Shiro.

Shiro’s got on a bright white hoodie with his fraternities logo written across the front in neon purple lettering and his usual basketball shorts have been replaced with a pair of soft looking grey sweatpants that leave very little the imagination.

“Thanks, Keith.” Shiro’s eyes are alight with something friendly and open when he speaks that makes Keith feel warm despite the frigid temperatures outside.

Shiro slides the book across the counter and Keith raises an eyebrow in question. The Adventures of the Paladin Prince. Shiro has checked this book out four times in the last six months.

“You’re reading this one again?”

Shiro blushes, a look that seems at odds with his hulking figure and athletic wear. Though if Keith has learned anything over the last few months in his interactions with Shiro—interactions which seem to be increasing recently—it’s that Shiro is nothing Keith would have expected.

Shiro shrugs, shoving his big hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “I know what I like.”

“Cheesy romance adventure novels?” Keith teases, flipping the book open and scanning it almost on autopilot, his eyes never leaving Shiro’s face.

Keith doesn’t want to tell Shiro that after the second time Shiro had checked it out, Keith had gone and checked out the second copy the moment his shift ended. He doesn’t tell him he took the book home and stayed up all night reading the book and thinking of Shiro. He doesn’t tell Shiro that he’d been shocked to discover that not only was the book a romance novel it was a queer romance novel. He doesn’t tell him that despite his insistence that he hates romance—literary and otherwise—reading about a dashing prince who defied the odds to save his kingdom along with the help of his best friend had filled Keith with a sort of wistful hopefulness he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

He doesn’t tell Shiro any of that. Instead what he says is, “What exactly is it you like about this book so much anyway?”

Shiro seems to mull the question over, as if weighing the words before he speaks. “The Paladin Prince and Marmoa—that’s his best friend,” Shiro adds, no idea Keith knows the entire story by heart now, “they’re equals. They’d do anything to save each other. I just think—I think that kind of loyalty and love is something worth fighting for.” Shiro clears his throat again as red patches blossom across the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, that was sappy wasn’t it?”

Keith ducks his head, the stray bits of hair that have come loose from his ponytail falling into his eyes as he discreetly pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and sets it inside the cover of the book, snapping it shut.

“Nah it’s—it’s honest. I like honest,” Keith answers. That’s one of the things Keith has come to admire most about Shiro, the way he always says what he thinks and feels. It makes Keith feel as if he can trust him in a way he’s not used to trusting people.

Keith slides the book across the counter, eyes darting up to Shiro’s face. There’s something there—something that fills Keith with that inexplicable hope again. Shiro’s hand darts out, his warm fingers ghosting across the top of Keith’s hand as he takes the book.

“I’ll see you next week, Keith,” Shiro says, feet moving as he walks backward, as if unable to take his own eyes off Keith.

Keith grins as he watches him, wondering how long it will take Shiro to find the note with his phone number tucked inside.

Shiro has all kinds of nicknames for Keith, that he's used often and endearingly since the moment they got together; babe, sweetheart, kitten, the list goes on and on. It's been ages since Keith's heard his given name from Shiro's lips, not that he's complaining.

But Keith's never been one for pet names, never had the occasion to use them before and they don't come as naturally to him. But Shiro doesn't mind, he can tell how much Keith loves him by the way he says "Shiro". And especially by the way he says "Takashi", hushed and reverent, late at night or in the early morning light when they're cuddled close together in bed.

They're getting ready for the day, Keith sleepily pulling on the first clothes he gets his hands on and Shiro, ever the morning person Keith is decidedly not, is excitedly describing some new recipe he wants to try for dinner that night. And it just slips out. Keith's not quite sure where it comes from, he doesn't remember ever thinking about it before, but there it is, suddenly out of his mouth before he can pull it back in.

"Sure, baby, whatever you want."

It takes a few seconds for Keith's sleepy brain to catch up to his mouth, and he stares down at his socked feet as he feels his face start to heat up. Maybe Shiro didn't hear him. But that wouldn't explain the abrupt silence in the room. He's never called Shiro a pet name before. What if he doesn't like them? Doesn't like that one especially?

Shiro walks up in front of him, slowly, like Keith's a spooked animal he doesn't want to scare away. Keith stubbornly refuses to looks up at him, sparing himself the embarrassment for as long as possible.

"Keith." There are warm hands resting on either side of his neck and he knows Shiro can see how red the tips of his ears are and hopes they can agree to never mention this again.

"Keith..." There's a hand under his chin, gripping softly and tilting his head up, and Keith resolutely looks over to the side.

"Look at me". Shiro's voice is light, amused, and Keith swears he will walk out right now, shoes or no shoes, if Shiro is going to laugh at him.

But he can't believe he was ever worried at all, when he finally shifts his eyes over to look at Shiro and sees the most brilliant smile on his face, soft eyes crinkled at the corners and a light flush on his cheeks. Keith's breath leaves him in a rush, breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, surprised and overwhelmed by the feeling of relief flooding through him at seeing Shiro so happy. Knowing that something he did made Shiro that happy.

"Say it again." Shiro murmurs, pressing soft kisses to Keith's overheated cheeks, to his lips, where ever he can reach. Keith takes a deep breath, finding courage in the powerful and heady feeling of being able to affect Shiro this way; being the only one who affects Shiro this way.

im gonna kill you ily

“Are you... Are you crying at Rudolph?” Keith blinked, pulling their shared blanket up a little as he watched his recent husband sniffle at their TV screen. “Is there some horrible news you need to tell me or are you honest to God crying over Rudolph?”

“He just wants to fit in!” Shiro exclaimed, eyes teary as he turned to look at Keith. The sight was a little adorable. Shiro in an ugly Christmas sweater, his cheeks rosy from a glass of wine and his eyes all welled up over an imaginary reindeer.

“I’m not letting you drink in the evenings anymore. You’re a mess.” Keith sighed, reaching for the issues on the coffee table and handing them over. “I’m pretty sure we saw way sadder things in space than Rudolph.”

“It’s different.” Shiro sniffed. “Animals are innocent, they shouldn’t be bullied.”

“He’s being bullied by other animals!”

“So some of them are shitty okay, but Rudolph isn’t.”

“Why’d I marry you?” Keith laughed, scootching closer on the couch and pulling him into a brief kiss, just a short touch of their lips that gave him an excuse to linger a hand on Shiro’s cheek. “You know you cried less than this at our wedding right?”

((Warning: Voltron season 6 spoilers ahead!))

Word count: 1.5k

Rating: T

Pairing: Keith / Shiro (Sheith)

Summary: Shiro is not alone when he wakes up in his bed on Earth.

Read on AO3

Shiro took a deep, slow breath, not daring to open his eyes. He was lying on his right side, his weight supported by a mountain of pillows, and he could feel a warm body firmly pressed against his, an arm thrown over his torso, and the slow, deep breaths that caressed his cheeks as the other person slept on.

Or so he thought.

"I know you're awake," a voice whispered near his lips. Keith.

He felt a surge of emotion rush through his body, and the words left his mouth before he could fully comprehend them.

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence, and he cracked an eye open. Keith was staring at him, brow furrowed, lips pressed together. The scar on his cheek was only half-visible in the dim light of the bedroom, but the sight was more than enough to make Shiro cringe in disgust. He had done that to Keith. Or some version of him, at least. He had been watching from outside as his own body mercilessly attacked the person he cared about the most, unable to do anything about it.

He wondered if it made a difference for Keith.

"What for?" Keith finally asked. There was something in his voice that was new to Shiro, something that hadn't been there before. Understanding. Patience. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it never would have shown in a younger, less mature version of Keith.

That thought made him shiver. Keith had grown so much…

"Shiro?"

"For saving me," he blurted out as soon as he realised he hadn't answered. He was too lost in Keith's expression. In Keith's eyes.

A smile tugged at Keith's lips, and he reluctantly let it transform his already soft expression into a lazy grin. "I already told you," he whispered, moving a hand to lightly caress Shiro's cheekbone. Shiro's breath hitched, and he was sure Keith felt it against his lips. "I'll do it as many times as it takes."

"But I don't want you to put your own life at risk for me, Keith." He moved his own hand – his only hand – upwards, and he let his fingertips trace the length of the scar he had left in Keith's right cheek. "Look at what I did to you."

For a moment, he thought Keith hadn't heard him. He let his hand cover the scar, cupping Keith's face as they stared into each other's eyes. He could feel both their heartbeats, and more so when Keith moved slightly closer to him and pressed his lips to Shiro's right shoulder, where the Galra arm had once been.

"Look at what I did to you," he whispered against Shiro's shoulder. Shiro shivered. He didn't deserve the tenderness that filled Keith's voice.

"You were only trying to defend yourself from me."

Keith's face moved away from his neck and their eyes met again.

"Shiro, that wasn't you." His voice was powerful, assertive. There was no hesitation in his tone. "You were dead. The person who attacked me was just a vessel controlled by Haggar. The real you would never have said those words to me."

Shiro felt a wave of relief crashing through his whole body, and he let his hand trail backwards until he was caressing Keith's strands of black hair.

"Then why didn't you let go? You could have saved yourself. You knew you were only holding onto an empty vessel, and still..."

"You were dead," Keith murmured. "Your essence had been retained inside the black lion, but you were dead, and that body was all I had left of you. I couldn't let go of my last chance to be with you again."

He was trailing his fingers up and down Shiro's chest now, and looking down at the motion. Shiro reluctantly let go of Keith's hair so he could grab his wrist. He waited until Keith looked him in the eye again before saying the words that had been nagging him since he'd woken up. Since he'd heard them as he watched their fight from the astral plane.

"Because you love me."

Keith visibly swallowed, but his voice didn't falter.

"Yeah."

That was also new. The Keith Shiro had once known would never have admitted that out loud. It thrilled him, but it scared him too. He’d known about Keith’s feelings for years, but to talk about them, to do something about them… How would it affect the team?

But they were on Earth now. They could rest. They had time. Lotor was gone, and they weren’t in the middle of a war anymore.

“I already knew that,” he whispered. Keith’s eyes opened slightly in surprise, as though he hadn’t expected Shiro to be so straightforward about it.

“I knew you knew,” he said. He pulled at the hand Shiro was still holding and, when Shiro let go of it, he intertwined their fingers and brought Shiro’s knuckles to his lips. “I also know you feel the same.”

“Keith…”

He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. He was too busy cursing himself for raising the issue in the first place. There were so many ways it could all go wrong…

“Don’t lie to me, Shiro,” Keith said. His tone was still firm, but there was a trace of pleading in his voice that made Shiro’s hand twitch around his.

“I wasn’t going to.” The words came out too fast, too fervently, and he cursed himself again. He was going to take them back, but Keith was smiling at him and his excuse died in his throat.

“Good.” The smile reached Keith’s eyes, and Shiro’s breath hitched. Keith slowly moved their arms down again, and then his hand was pressing at Shiro’s lower back as he moved even closer to him, until their lips were almost brushing. “I’d like to hear you say it, though,” Keith murmured. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Without waiting for an answer, Keith pressed their lips together in a chaste, tender peck. Shiro's throat made a deep, longing sound, and his hand was suddenly in Keith's hair as he deepened the kiss. Keith’s reaction was immediate – he sighed into Shiro's mouth and pressed their tongues together, his hand sliding up Shiro's back under the shirt.

Their lips parted suddenly just a few seconds later, and Keith's quick breathing made him tremble as it caressed his swollen lips.

“Is this okay?” Keith whispered, one hand still on Shiro's skin, the other arm awkwardly positioned between their bodies.

Shiro snorted. Okay? To say that kissing Keith was okay would be the biggest understatement of all times. It was incredible . Exhilarating. It was all he had ever wanted, and all he'd thought he would never have. There had been so many things standing between them. The team, the war, their age…

Not that they mattered now.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “It's okay.”

“Oh.” Keith swallowed and licked his lips. “Because we can stop if you're not comfortable with this…”

A groan left Shiro's throat, and he smashed their lips together again. He didn't stop kissing Keith until he ran out of air.

“Does it seem like I'm not comfortable with this?” He then asked, cupping Keith's head with his hand and pressing their foreheads together.

“No,” gasped Keith, pushing between Shiro's thighs with one of his knees until their legs were intertwined. “Fuck, Shiro.”

“I love you.”

He had no idea where those words had come from, but the way Keith's breath hitched made him smile helplessly, and he knew there was no going back. He was uttlerly, irrevocably in love with Keith.

“I love you, Keith,” he repeated, moving his head back so as to see the expression in Keith's face when he heard it again. There was surprise there, and hope. It didn't surprise him at all when he found a hint of lust, too. It just made his smile widen.

Keith smirked slowly as he let his fingertips trace patterns down Shiro's waist and hip.

“You keep surprising me,” he murmured.

“Didn't you want to hear it?” He asked, slyly. “Besides, I should be the one saying that. Have you any idea how much you've grown?”

“I do, actually. Lance won't shut up about it.”

Shiro chuckled, and brought his thumb to Keith's cheekbone.

“Think he'll be alright with this?” He whispered a few seconds later. “Him and the rest of the team?”

“Think I care?” Keith shot back. There was no bite to his words, but Shiro knew the feeling was genuine. “But… yeah. I think they will.” He bit his lip, and his hand stilled on Shiro's hip. “What is this, though? Should we give it a name?”

Shiro hadn't had the time to think about that, but the answer, for some reason, seemed obvious.

“Love.” That was all he could feel at that moment. It had overridden the fear and doubt in his mind, and was flooding his chest with such strength he might explode. “You're my love.”

Keith beamed.

“I like the sound of that,” he said. And then they were kissing.

Thank you!! And atla is killing me slowly. I’m so mad at past me for not watching it sooner! Thank you for the request! I absolutely loved doing it. I actually had this idea in my head for a while so this was a good chance to finally get it out. Basically think this scene but with Sheith. So this is an AU but I hope you still like it! Meet-Cute’s are my favourite.

I’m having a Follower Appreciation for 1500! Thank you all <3

Keith’s eyes slid shut and he tipped his head back, letting the morning sun wash over his face and warm him. The spring was finally starting to heat the earth but there was still a chill in the air at this time of the morning. He gently pet the dog whose head was resting on his knee as he sat on the park bench, humming absently in agreement to whatever was being said on the other end of his phone.

“You’re not even paying attention to me, are you Keith?” He heard Lance almost yell through the phone, snapping him back to reality.

For a moment Keith thought about lying but just rolled his eyes and replied “No, not really.”

“Seriously, dude, I’m hurt.” He could practically see the dramatic pose Lance was no doubt striking, regardless of how many strangers may be around him at the moment.

“If it was something important, I promise I’ll apologize. But if it was stupid I’ll zone out again, so really this is on you,” Keith said, watching as the dog lifted his head and started looking intently around the park.

“It’s about the dog, Keith! You know it’s about the dog!”

Keith sighed into the phone, “Hence why I was ignoring you.”

“I just can’t believe you adopted him. Have you really thought this through?”

“Of course I have! He’s fine!” Keith defended himself and his new pet. He watched as the dog stood up and start pacing, so Keith let his leash loosen a bit to give him more freedom. The dog walked back and forth a few times before focusing on something in the distance. Probably the squirrel he wanted to chase earlier.

“Keith. He’s huge. He’s fast. And he’s barely trained. Seriously when I was walking him last night he ran off so fast it was like he teleported. If that girl hadn’t caught him he would have been long gone and–”

“Yeah, but she did catch him and you got her number, so really it worked out pretty well for you.”

“Well, of course I ask for her number, she was gorgeous! But that’s beside the point. Keith, you’ve never had a dog before I just don’t know if he’s the best first pet. He doesn’t even play fetch!”

“That’s not his fault, Lance, no one taught him! And we were working on it this morning.”

“Oh, are you at the park?” Lance asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Yeah. I figured a nice walk before I went to work for the day would be good for him.”

“Nice work, Kogane, taking the dog to the park to pick people up already. You’re learning from me well.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to pick anyone up. You get one number one time and you think you’re a pick up artist, Lance.” He frowned as the dog looked back up at him.

“Well I basically am, seriously you should have seen her–”

“I get it Lance, she’s beautiful, flowing white locks, I heard it all,” Keith grasped the handle a little harder as the dog started barking and jumping a bit at the end of the leash, probably still trying to go after the squirrel. Keith looked behind him to try and see if he could find what he was barking at, but all he saw was a guy a few benches away watching the dog from behind a book. Keith waved a sheepish apology at him and the man went back to reading.

“Did he poop yet?”

Keith turned back around and loosened his hold on the leash as the dog calmed again and laid down on the ground, watching Keith from the corner of his eye. “What kind of a question is that?”

“I don’t know, dog owners know that kind of thing. You gotta make sure he’s healthy. Did you pick it up in a little doggie bag? Did you have to carry it around? I mean, it’s one thing to have to pick up dog poop, but it’s a whole ‘nother level when you actually have to walk around with it in your hand, y’know?”

Keith groaned, “Yes, Lance, I walked around with a bag of dog shit in my hand. Yes, it was weird. No, I’m not getting rid of the dog.”

“Ugh, fine. Be stubborn. But you at least have to name him soon. You can’t just keep calling–” but Lance was cut short as the phone was ripped from Keith’s hand.

“Hey! Give that back!” He hollered as the dog leaned down on his front paws, phone in his mouth and tail wagging high in the air. The dog faked one way and then took off in the direction of the squirrel, the surprise ripping the leash out of Keith’s hand.

“Hey, dog! Come back!” Keith yelled scrambling to his feet, taking off and hoping no one was watching. Hearing about this from Lance was going to be bad enough, he thought with a groan as he chased after the rogue dog.

The dog jumped around a bit, frolicking, tossing the phone up into the air and catching it, turning to Keith and sticking his butt back up in the air as if to play. “Alright, very funny,” Keith said as he slowed down and walked calmly up to the dog, internally wanting to die as he saw the man on the bench watching him from above his book again.

Keith crouched down to the ground and stretched his hand out, “Come on then, give it back.”

But the dog bounded away again with a bark, his leash trailing mockingly behind him, all the way to the man on the other bench. He finally dropped the phone on the ground beside the bench and sat down, barking a few more times.

“Oh, of course,” Keith said with a groan as he stood back up and walked over to the bench. He tried to keep his cheeks from burning up as he walked over to his dog and the stranger, looking down at the ground and picking up the leash as soon as he was close enough. “Sorry about him,” Keith said still staring at the ground and picking up his phone, refusing to look at the stranger.

“That’s alright,” he replied, “I was just heading out anyway. The bench is all yours.”

Before Keith could even fully look up the other man was already walking away. With a death grip on the leash he turned to look at the dog who had his most innocent face on and was glancing back and forth between Keith and the man walking away. “Lance may actually be right this time,” Keith said, shaking his head, “maybe you do need more training.” But before the words were totally out of his mouth the dog took off again, barrelling down the pathway after the other man.

With a death grip on the leash this time Keith refused to let go and was dragged along after the large and powerful dog. “No no no! Stop!” He yelled as they neared that same man along the path yet again. Right when the man heard them coming and turned around to look, the dog ran passed him and looped back around dragging keith right into the other man and wrapping them up in the leash.

The dog pulled tight and Keith was pressed right up against the man. He put his hands against the man’s – unexpectedly strong – chest and started babbling “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him, I swear–”

At the same time as the man started laughing sheepishly, one hand going up to scratch at the back of his head, “No, it’s fine, really! Don’t worry about it!”

But before they could get their balance back, the dog gave another quick tug on the leash and they both went silent, eyes going wide in a brief panic as they locked gazes and started to fall over, right into the pond.

“Oh my God!” Keith yelled as they hit water, the other man following it up almost instantly with a loud “Holy shit!”

It may be spring but the water hasn’t warmed up yet and they’re both instantly soaked. Luckily the dog finally let up on pulling on the leash and it fell loose, letting the two men scramble to their feet, Keith still sputtering apologies.

As they get their feet under themselves and look at each other Keith finds his long black hair has fallen over his eyes, absolutely soaked, and he looks through it to see the other man’s stark white bangs have been plastered down over one of his eyes as well.

They lock eyes again, Keith falling silent. The spell is quickly broken when the dog barks and the two men turn to him just as he gives that whole bodied shake dogs do, and they both throw their arms up in a weak defence against the second spray of ice cold water.

They both drop their hands to their sides in defeat and look at each other again through their drooping hair, and they both start laughing. Keith can’t help but smile at the full bodied laugh the other man lets out, his head falling back as if he hasn’t laughed that hard in his life.

They both stop laughing eventually, still slowly sinking deeper into the muck, but neither seeming to care anymore. They smile at each other and the stranger thrusts his hand out between them “I’m Shiro,” he says.

Keith shakes his head and smiles, his hand reaching out to shake Shiro’s “I’m Keith.”

“Well, despite the circumstances it’s nice to meet you, Keith,” Shiro says as he pushes his white bangs out of his face. They stick up in a ridiculous cowlick and Keith can’t look away.

Shiro crouches down in front of the dog and pats his head, “And who’s this excited guy?” he asks as the dog lets his tongue loll out like he’s never done anything wrong in his life, ever.

Keith crouches down beside him, his thigh lightly brushing against Shiro’s. “He actually doesn’t have a name yet.”

“Well,” Shiro says, turning to let out grin at Keith, “I guess we’ll have to work on that.”

Sheith drabble, prompt from @ilovelocust​‘s reblog: Shiro and Keith sharing a healing pod

The last thing Shiro remembered was the impact of his back smashing against the wall and his head rattling inside of his helmet.  Just as he began to lose consciousness, he heard Keith call out to him, but his voice was abruptly cut off by a harsh grunt.  Shiro’s heart slammed inside of his chest at the pained sound, but he could hardly feel it now as his mind faded to black.  Keith?  Keith, are you okay?

He was weaving in and out of the muffled darkness, his dead-weight body being carried by… someone… Hunk… maybe Allura… He could hear voices murmuring around him but words fell here and there into each lapse of consciousness.  

“Quickly… –to the healing pods.”

“There’s only one… –malfunctioned after that last attack.”

“Damn it all, put them both in.  We can’t just… –with the trauma they’ve sustained.  …–vile witch.  How many monsters can she make?”

“Keith…” Shiro tried to utter, but even to him, it sounded unintelligible.  Coran.. Allura.. Where is he?

“It’s alright, Shiro.  We’ve got you.  Both of you.  Gently now, Hunk.”

Try as he might, Shiro couldn’t keep his eyes open.  His wakefulness ebbed and flowed, and he seemed to skip through the limits of time until he came to a gentle halt, finally able to see through the small slits between his eyelids.  At first, he didn’t understand what he was seeing, and it almost made his heart leap into a panic.  Keith lay on his side in front of Shiro, facing him with his eyes closed, lips slightly parted.  His chest rose with the slightest of breaths, and a relief crashed over Shiro like nothing he’d ever felt before.  You’re alive.  

Keith looked exactly like he did when he was fast asleep, slumber relieving him of the heavy burdens that Shiro knew he always shouldered.  And like always, Shiro leaned forward and tenderly pressed his forehead against Keith’s.

I thought I’d lost you.

He noticed the soft glow that surrounded them both and realized he was still in the healing pod – with this crazy Altean tech that made him feel like he was lying down despite being upright.  If his memory served him, he knew the pod was either going open or it was about administer another dose of anesthesia if they weren’t fully healed yet.  The quiet hissing that sounded above his head told him it was the latter.

He found that he still had movement of his hand, and before sleep could take him again, he inched it forward, bit by bit, reaching for Keith’s open palm that lay relaxed between their chests.  Shiro clasped his hand gently in his and breathed a contented sigh before closing his eyes.

Allura had walked into the medbay just as the pod eased Shiro back to sleep, and she couldn’t help the warm smile that pulled at her lips when she saw them.  Somehow, the universe never failed to keep them together.

“How are they doing?” Hunk asked from behind her.

set between s03e05 and s03e06

archived in this drabble collection

Shiro’s room is dark; light wasn’t needed where he’d been sleeping and regaining his strength for the past few quintants. Keith quietly enters the room and the doors close behind him, and the room goes dim but it doesn’t matter—even with low visibility, even if it was the entire galaxy with far off stars as his only source of light, he’d still find Shiro.

Shiro’s snoring lightly, his chest rising and falling under the sheets at a steady pace. In the stillness, Keith wonders what dreams he’s seeing, what memories visit him when he closes his eyes. He wonders about what Shiro has faced, what challenges he’s had to endure to get into the shape he’s in.

It still feels surreal – losing him, finding him, losing him again and desperately searching for no specific coordinates within a vast registry of a celestial map for any sign of him until Black finally locked on to his location. It almost seems like a dream just watching Shiro back on his bed and staying in the same room as him, breathing in the same space as him.

Just a little touch, he swears, just the back of his fingers along the side of Shiro’s face, just to feel the growing stubble lining his jaw. Just a little look, only close enough to hear him breathing, close enough to see the face he keeps seeing in his own dreams. Just a light kiss on chapped lips, enough to feel Shiro’s familiar warmth, just a quick moment of their silhouettes merging—

Almost immediately, Keith recoils, his chest pounding madly. Shiro stirs, and Keith catches his gasp in his palm and Shiro doesn’t move anymore after that but that’s not what’s gotten the red paladin so suddenly worked up. Suddenly, Keith feels like he’s about to fold into himself, his lungs want to go on overdrive, his eyes feel like burning and his knees are failing and all he could do is move back, move away from this unexpected gush of unfamiliarity and uncertainty, of a sudden realization that something is terribly wrong, that a large part of him is still missing after all, that he failed to bring Shiro back.

His shoulders hit the wall and he falters, he needs somewhere, someone to hold onto but there’s none, he holds himself instead because there’s only darkness and air and an empty space between him and the Shiro who has made it back to this bed. His cheeks feel wet and warm, his throat full of hiccups and lodged with silent screams as he lets his deep misery drench the fabric of his pants. His chest hurts, his lower lip hurts from his own teeth, his head his stomach, everything hurts.

“I don’t know if I can be who you expect me to be anymore” -@bluuenvy​ [also available on ao3]

The man was clearly exhausted and looked as if he’d made the trip to Hell and back a dozen times over the last year. Keith had reluctantly allowed Hunk to carry Shiro in for him since he was still out cold, but not he’d chased everyone out and had been sitting by Shiro’s side waiting for him to wake up and now that he had, Keith didn’t like the way the conversation seemed to be heading.

“I don’t know if I can be who you expect me to be anymore,” Shiro wouldn’t meet his eyes as he spoke; instead he glared at his replaced arm, flexing the fingers over and over again.

“What?” That caught him off guard. “I don’t expect you to be anyone, just yourself.”

Shiro laughed darkly, looking at Keith now, but not seeming to see him. “That’s just it; I’m not myself. I don’t even know that man anymore, Keith.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he hissed, always quick to defend when Shiro was the topic. “You’re still you. No matter what happened up there, that doesn’t change who you are, alright?” He went to run a hand through his friend’s now white forelock and in return got his wrist grabbed just as his fingers breached the pale strands.

“Don’t,” Shiro’s voice was a growl and his eyes had grown distant. Keith closed his hand to show he wasn’t going to continue. “You’re afraid of me.” A comment, not a question.

“No,” it didn’t sound as convincing as he’d hoped. “No,” Keith tried again, “I’m not afraid of you. But we don’t need to talk about this right now. You need to rest.”

Shiro’s jaw clenched and he glared unseeingly at Keith. “Fine,” his voice went deadpan before rolling away to stare at the wall, ending their conversation Sighing, Keith ran a frustrated hand through his own hair and stood up. This was fine. He doesn’t mean this. He just needs time. Swallowing, he decided just to let his friend have some breathing room.

“Goodnight, Shiro,” he flipped off the light, assuming he wouldn’t get a response, but just as Keith stepped through the doorway the sound of sheets rustling made him pause in time to hear, “You used to call me Takashi.”