Chapter Text
After the universe was restored, the pilots who’d been killed during the first wave of the Galra attack on Earth were miraculously alive. Allura also reappeared.
This story takes place a few years later.
Shiro realized he was in love the day Keith returned to Earth.
That day, a gray and hazy Friday in late spring, was already hot by sunrise, diffused by an unseasonable veil of fog that had settled over the nearest mountain, blurring the distant cacti to ghosts. The half a muffin he’d choked down an hour ago had turned to cement in his stomach, and no amount of coffee could plane the weariness that permeated every inch of him. He hadn’t slept two hours altogether knowing Keith was coming home.
Standing on the runway at the end of the receiving line, Shiro couldn’t take his eyes from the sky as the ship descended: a black speck easily dismissed as a bird at first glance. It grew into a familiar shape that tugged at his heart, and as the ship prepared to land, sending out clouds of dust on all sides, Shiro wiped his eyes.
How long had it been since they’d last seen one another face to face? He’d stopped counting the time apart. It didn’t move the same for Keith. But on Earth, time passed with maddening routine, each day closing no differently than the day before. Shiro often forgot what day of the week it was. They were all the same. He worked through what had once been a weekend. He passed those on base, which made it impossible to forget about his job. Better to put on a uniform and feel useful. They’d rest once Earth was rebuilt.
Keith shook hands with the line of people who had assembled to greet him. He’d grown his hair longer than it had been at the last reunion, but unlike that day, he hadn't tied it back. It was tucked behind his left ear, loose over his shoulders. He stopped and talked with each of the officers, even flashing them smiles—something he never would have done a few years ago.
Shiro patiently waited for Keith to reach him. His watch had only counted forward two minutes since Keith’s arrival, but he felt on edge watching other people speak to him or clasp his hand. At last, Keith reached Iverson, who stood to Shiro’s right, and Keith’s eyes flicked to his before focusing on the senior officer.
“Kogane, I swear you're six inches taller than the last time I saw you,” Iverson said.
“Galra genes.”
“Good to have you back on Earth.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Iverson motioned to Shiro. “This one's been impossible since he heard you were coming back. Hasn't taken a day off in a month. Think you can do something about that?”
Keith laughed a little. “I’ll do what I can,” he said and stepped in front of Shiro, looking up at him with a half smile. “Hey.”
“Welcome to Earth,” Shiro said, his heart squeezing a little. He glanced to the bag Keith had set on the ground. “Can I carry that for you?”
“I've got it.” Keith picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder. “Do you know where they've got me set up? I want to get out of this suit.”
“I’m still on duty for a couple of hours, but I'll have someone escort you.”
“Escort him yourself,” Iverson said, slapping Shiro between the shoulder blades. “And take the day, Shirogane. Hell, take the weekend. That's an order.”
There had rarely been an awkward moment between them since they’d met all those years ago, so Shiro was flustered when he couldn't think of anything to say to Keith as they crossed the base to the new officers’ housing complex, an H-shaped two-story building with windows that looked out over twin courtyards.
When Keith read the building’s sign, he didn't comment, but the corners of his mouth lifted.
“Hope you don't mind crashing with me,” Shiro said. “We’re low on space.”
“Anything's better than sleeping on the ship. What year is it?”
Shiro told him.
“How long have you lived here?” Keith asked.
“Since they opened in January. I thought about getting a place off base, but I'm here all the time anyway. What would be the point? This way I can walk to work. Saves fuel, and the utilities are subsidized, plus we’ve got a gym.” Shiro opened the building’s door. “Sorry it’s so hot in here. They don’t turn on the air during the week when there’s no one in the building, but I’ve got my own unit upstairs.”
“It’s no problem. Galra ships are kept pretty warm. I’m used to it.”
They took the stairs to the second floor and Shiro unlocked his apartment. It was a good ten degrees cooler than the hallway even without the air on all day. Walking inside, he shivered and ordered the system online.
“My rank’s high enough I qualified for a single this time,” he said, bending to remove his shoes. “So you don’t have to worry about a roommate. Put your things anywhere. Do you want something to drink?”
“Beer?” Keith said.
“In the fridge, unless you want to go out riding this afternoon.”
“Maybe in a couple hours. I've been awake fourteen hours straight. Starting to go cross-eyed. Do you care if I borrow your shower?”
“Of course not. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“I'll make you something while you wash up. It’s that door. There are clean towels in the closet.”
Keith nodded and took his bag with him into the bathroom. Shiro made egg sandwiches and arranged the plates on the coffee table along with two ales. Keith joined him a few minutes later in black shorts and one of Shiro’s own t-shirts.
“I borrowed this from you,” he said with the air of someone who knew he didn’t need to ask permission.
The neck of the shirt was wet from his hair and stuck to his skin; his legs were bare and well-defined. Shiro licked his lips, feeling slightly flustered, and glanced away.
“Borrow anything you want. Or keep it. I have plenty.”
“Thanks.” Keith smiled with one half of his mouth. He reached for Shiro's hand and brought it to his chest. “So are you gonna hug me or what?”
Keith’s fingers tightened around his and Shiro's heart began to pound. He pulled Keith to him, squeezing so hard that Keith's feet almost lifted off of the floor. His wet hair tickled Shiro's ear. Keith had borrowed his shampoo; they smelled alike. Shiro closed his eyes.
“I missed you,” Keith whispered, wrapping an arm around his back.
“Don’t they keep you busy enough out there?”
Keith held him tighter. “You feel thin. Are you eating enough?”
“It's the heat. I've always had trouble keeping the weight on when it’s hot.”
Keith held onto him for a few more seconds, then let go and flopped onto the gray sofa, looking at the plates Shiro had set out. “This looks fantastic. I haven't had fresh food in...I can't remember. That rationed junk all tastes the same after a while, even the flavored ones.”
“I'll cook for you, anything you want as long as it's pasta or on bread.”
At that, Keith raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the Shiro who couldn't boil water?”
Shiro laughed and took a seat beside him. “Hunk’s been teaching me. There's not much access to processed foods anymore. Most of the time I eat in the mess hall, but cooking is actually pretty fun.”
“You can make me spaghetti later.”
Keith bit into the sandwich and made an orgasmic noise, chewing with his eyes closed. Shiro watched him eat with guilty pleasure. He hadn’t taken a bite of his own sandwich before Keith finished his, so Shiro slid him the second one and twisted opened the beers.
“You sure you don’t want it?” Keith said through a full mouth, motioning to Shiro’s plate.
“I’ll make another one,” Shiro said. “So how long are you on planet?”
“Not sure. There’s a couple things I've gotta work out. Is it going to bug you if I'm here for a while?”
“Absolutely not. You can stay here as long as you want.”
The look Keith gave him reminded Shiro of the fourteen-year-old boy who’d expected Shiro to leave him like everyone else in his life had done, except there was nothing childish about Keith anymore. The last of his innocence had burned away, and in its place was the same dedication and righteousness that Shiro had felt at that age. Somewhere between Earth and the other side of the universe, Keith had become a man. But like his fourteen-year-old self, he was still afraid of being left alone.
Shiro tapped their beers together. “I'm glad you're home,” he said and feeling flustered by how close Keith was sitting to him, reached for the remote. “Do you want to watch something? There aren't a lot of channels, but I have a few movies.”
Shaking his head, Keith shoved the second sandwich in his mouth. Once he’d finished chewing, he swallowed and said, “I think I'm gonna crash for a while.”
“You can take my bed. I’ll change the sheets.”
“It's fine. I don’t care if you slept on them.” Keith’s mouth twitched and he looked down. “When I get up, let's go riding.”
“Just warning you, I only have one bike.”
“We’ll fit. Want to practice on your bed?”
“I’m not tired. You go ahead.”
Keith looked at him strangely, like Shiro was a dog who couldn’t understand a basic command, then sighed and went into the bedroom, closing the door.
Confused by Keith’s reaction, Shiro replayed the last few seconds in his head and mentally kicked himself. It had been a long time since someone had made a pass at him. He wasn't sure if he still recognized one when it happened, but he was fairly sure that had been Keith’s intention. Years ago, Adam used to tease Keith about his crush on Shiro, but back then Shiro had brushed it off as admiration. Keith had only been a teenager, after all. It hadn't been until Shiro had woken up in his arms, fresh from a spirit restoration, that he'd finally realized the way Keith looked at him.
Still looked at him.
He threw back the rest of the beer.
Shiro often heard Keith’s desperate “I love you” in quiet moments, and his brain would lock up, as the clone’s brain had locked when Keith had said it. Whenever that happened, Shiro would wonder if he should’ve asked Keith to stay with him on Earth. If he should’ve offered to go with him. At the time, he hadn't been sure he could feel that kind of love for Keith, the kind Keith wanted, so rather than give him false hope, Shiro had embraced him and let him go. But sitting on the sofa, looking at the closed door, knowing Keith was in his bed, Shiro felt feverish. He had no doubts this time. He wanted to walk through that door.
He let him sleep.
When Keith woke a few hours later, he found Shiro at his desk going over a backlog of reports. The borrowed t-shirt was baggy on him, but the shorts hugged his thighs, pale from years in space without exposure to sunlight. Shiro couldn’t help staring.
“Thought you weren't supposed to be working,” Keith yawned, coming closer.
“Last one, I promise,” Shiro said, tearing his eyes away from Keith’s legs. He signed his name to a report and took off his glasses, laying them aside. “Sleep okay?”
“Your mattress sucks.”
“It came with the housing. I'll get a new one when I move.”
Keith leaned against the edge of the desk. “Are you looking for a place?”
“I’d like to, but there hasn't been time.”
“We can look this weekend.”
“Sure, because that's how you should spend your first weekend back on Earth, helping me apartment hunt.”
Keith shrugged. “If I'm gonna live there when I'm on Earth, I should check ‘em out.” He reached for the glass of water next to the stack of tablets and took a long drink, watching Shiro all the while over the rim. When he’d finished the glass, he set it aside and wiped his mouth with the inside of his thumb. Canting his head, he added, “Don't you think?”
Shiro couldn't find his voice. He could feel the heat spreading across his face, how wide his eyes had become. Afraid that anything he said would be the wrong answer and upset Keith again, he only nodded.
With a smile that bordered on smug, Keith cast his eyes out the window to the mountain. “Do you have any riding gear that'll fit me?”
“It's going to be hot,” Shiro said as he maneuvered the bike out of its parking spot. “Sure you don't want to wait until later? It'll be light until close to seven.”
“I don't mind being hot. Can I drive?”
Shiro slid backward on the seat so Keith could climb on. “It's your vacation,” he said.
“Hold on.”
Shiro looped both arms around his waist. “It’s been a while since I’ve been the passenger.”
Keith laughed and revved the engine, propelling them across the hot sand. It seemed to almost glitter in the light, swimming in a mirage at the horizon. In a few days (weeks, months—Keith hadn't said when he was leaving), Shiro would watch his ship disappear into the upper atmosphere. So for today, which belonged to him, he held tightly to Keith's back, pressing himself against it. He rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder and pretended it wouldn't be the only time.
They rode until the sweat had soaked their clothes. Keith pulled the bike into a triangular patch of shade, and they stripped to their skin above the waist. He took off his boots, setting them in the sun to dry, and pulled back his hair. It left his neck exposed, flushed like his chest and face. Shiro squeezed his fingers into his palm. If he touched Keith right now, he would want to touch him every day, so he settled against the warm rock face and watched Keith look at the desert.
“I forgot how much I love it out here,” Keith said.
His words made Shiro sad. “Better than space?”
Keith looked back at him then. “Yeah. Loads.”
His gaze was heavy, intentional. Shiro swallowed the thick feeling creeping up his throat.
“Your ship, how does she handle?” he said.
“Why, you want to fly it?”
“Can I?” Shiro said, eyes widening.
“As long as I'm on board with you.”
For a moment, Shiro thought his heart had actually stopped. Then Keith licked his lips and added, “Otherwise the controls won't work.”
“Oh,” Shiro said, feeling foolish. “Yeah. Of course. An Altean arm’s not going to do me much good, huh. By the way, where’s your dog?”
“Back on Daibazaal. Krolia’s watching him.”
Neither of them said anything for a while. Keith turned his head away.
“So how's everything going?” he said.
Shiro took a breath, relieved by the change in topic. “The first two phases of base reconstruction are complete. We’re going to resume exploratory missions in a few months.”
“Are you piloting one?”
“Unfortunately no. The promotion makes that hard. I'm sure they'd let me if I put in a request, but I don't want special treatment, and I don't really want to get demoted to captain just so I can have my own ship.”
“Do you get to fly at all?”
“It's been a while.”
“But you're happy?”
Shiro wasn’t sure how to answer. He’d kept so busy, there hadn’t been time to consider whether he was happy, or if he’d buried himself in work so he wouldn’t have to accept that he wasn’t. What did happy mean, anyway? He was healthy; Earth was saved. Keith was alive, living the way he wanted. How couldn’t Shiro be happy, knowing all of that? But hearing those words from Keith, he felt like crying.
“I'm happy to see you,” he said.
Keith nodded slowly. “Shiro...” He paused for a breath before he continued. “If I lived on Earth, would you want to do this every day?”
It was a cruel question. Shiro grinned to hide the sting. “What, go riding?”
“Be together.”
The sunlight had made his eyes water. Shiro squinted and set his jaw, swallowing before he answered. “I wish we could.”
“Look at me,” Keith said. “Shiro, please look at me.”
Keith’s eyes had a veil of tears over them. He opened his mouth but said nothing, tongue darting out over his lips. He leaned on his forearms, bridging the space between them. Shiro didn't have time to close his eyes. Keith's lips were trembling. Keith was trembling. He was kissing Shiro.
Knowing Keith would be leaving, Shiro wished he didn't know the way Keith's mouth fit to his, the heat of his left palm that came up to cup Shiro’s jaw. How it felt when Keith crawled over him, sitting astride his thighs and holding his face in both hands. He kissed as though they’d done it for years, not for the first time only a moment ago. Keith slowly teased Shiro's lips apart. Someone had taught him how to do that. Shiro clung to his ignorance, hating the idea of anyone else touching him. He settled his hands on Keith's hips and opened his mouth.
This was unfair. It was unfair to both of them, but he didn't want Keith to stop. When Shiro sat up straighter and embraced him, their bare skin pressed together, and Keith gasped into his mouth. Shiro whispered his name. Groaning, Keith slid his fingers into Shiro's hair, rocking against him. Shiro’s mind went blank.
He had the first bittersweet taste of Keith's body in that triangle of shade. As they lay facing one another after, ankles flirting with the line of sunlight, Keith stroked Shiro's face. If they could do this once in a while, Shiro thought, come together when they did see one another, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He understood as well as anyone the importance of putting yourself first. He’d been the one leaving once, and now he knew what it was to be left behind. He'd never ask Keith to stay, but he decided in that moment that he would wait—days, weeks, months, however long it would take for Keith to come back.
“We’re gonna lose the light soon,” Shiro said. “We should probably head home.”
“I'm staying.”
Stunned, Shiro blinked several times. “What?”
“I’m staying. I don't want to be away from you anymore. It kills me every day I can't see you. I told myself that if I came here and you felt the same way, I'd stay on Earth with you this time.”
“But your work,” Shiro said. “I would never ask you to—”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t.”
Shiro drew an awed breath. When he blinked next, his eyelashes were wet. “Then...can I give you my answer from earlier?”
Keith gave him a questioning look.
“Yes,” Shiro said. “I definitely want your opinion on the apartment.”
“Somewhere off base.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think my old place is still standing?”
Shiro kissed him. “If it is, will you let me move in?”
“There's only a pull-out couch.”
“You said I need a new bed anyway.”
Keith laughed, drawing his thumb over Shiro’s lips before leaning in again. “I'll help you pick one out.”
Shiro drove them back to base. Keith held onto him like a lover, and when the helmets came off, even though they were in view of three of the housing buildings, Shiro kissed back when Keith reached for him.
“Hey,” he whispered. “There are cameras. People are probably watching us.”
Keith ducked his head, smiling but not the least apologetic. He took Shiro's hand and led him inside.
They didn't get out of bed until after dark, and then it was to shower. Keith emptied another beer while Shiro made spaghetti. They hadn't bothered dressing. Shiro was in shorts. Keith had on a pair of red briefs he'd taken from the dresser. They made love on the couch because Keith said it was softer than the bed, and afterward, he allowed Shiro to carry him into the bedroom.
“It's been a long time since I kissed someone good night,” Shiro said, laying next to him.
“How long?”
“Before Kerberos.”
Keith liked that answer. He nudged Shiro's nose with his and kissed him slowly. “Can I hold you?” he said.
Nodding, Shiro tucked his face against Keith's neck. Keith's arms settled over him and he pressed kisses to Shiro's hair. As he drifted off, the frequency slowed and there was only the steady pressure of his mouth.
“Keith?” Shiro whispered, but he didn't answer, already asleep. It didn't matter. There would be plenty of other nights when he would be here. Shiro would call about apartment tours in the morning.
“Good night,” he said.
They leased a studio in a reclaimed part of town, in a converted office building with whitewashed brick walls.
It only took Shiro an afternoon to pack up his base housing. Besides his clothes, his own belongings amounted to a stack of books, a yellowing plant clinging to three leaves (his best success to date), and a few photographs, including a picture of Adam that had survived the attacks.
After the universe had been restored and Shiro returned to Earth, he’d been shocked to receive word that the pilots who had died in the first wave of attack were now as alive as the creatures on the restored worlds of Diabazaal and Altea. He and Adam had only spoken a couple of times since then, but Shiro had shed the guilt over the way they’d left things. He removed Adam’s picture from its frame and tucked it into a book. It didn’t feel right to throw away a part of his past, but it didn’t feel right to bring him into their new home either.
Keith owned nothing but his uniform and blade. He carried a box of Shiro’s clothes into their new bedroom and set it on the floor.
“We need a bed,” he said, staring at the carpet.
“We’ll manage on the floor for a while.” Shiro placed the box he’d been carrying next to Keith’s and stretched his arms. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” Keith said, turning slowly and stepping into Shiro’s personal space. Lifting his chin, he pressed their lips together.
“It’s eleven in the morning,” Shiro said, smiling as Keith stepped him backward into the wall. Shiro settled against it. “You’re ready to go again?”
“Isn’t it a tradition to christen a new house?” Keith whispered.
“I’ve only lived on base.”
Delight played around Keith’s eyes. “You didn’t do this to your last place?” he said.
“Nope,” Shiro said, surrendering.
Keith accepted a job on base teaching advanced flight. Ever since the day he’d arrived for work in one of Shiro’s dress shirts, everyone had taken to calling him Keith Shirogane, and Keith had yet to correct them. The joke had evolved into asking when the wedding would take place. Shiro recycled the answers he’d spit out years ago to the few people who’d known about him and Adam: We haven't talked about that yet. We just moved in together. We’re not in a rush. But the question lingered in his mind.
“Everyone at work keeps asking when we’re getting married,” he said to Keith in bed two months after they'd started living together. Keith, half asleep and with his eyes closed, smiled against the pillow.
“Krolia asked too. Marriage wasn't the word she used but...Galran equivalent.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That we hadn't set a date.”
“Then…” Shiro took a breath. “Would you want to set one?”
Keith opened one eye. “She said she could be here in a few months.”
“That’d be in the fall,” Shiro said. “We could have it outdoors.”
The smile spread to every part of Keith's face. He rolled closer to Shiro and kissed with enthusiasm.
“I thought you said you were tired?” Shiro said. “You’ve got an early class tomorrow.”
Keith reached inside his shorts. His palm was hot. He moved his hand the way he knew Shiro liked and smiled against his mouth.
“You can make me coffee.”
The next day, when someone asked about wedding plans while Shiro yawned through the food line, he answered, “This fall.”