Thread by @DorisDuksozz

Look. No one is going to like this. I don't like this. Nonconvaguely in the we drunk and Keith got us that way on purpose flavor. Angst. #sheith

#pining because #longing is something Shiro's do.

Keith wonders if it's always going to be him.

Going to be Shiro.

& really,

how could anyone compare?

Shiro is larger than life by reputation and all of it is real, it's /true/, it barely fucking scratches the surface of the many things that make the man incredible.

Keith has been more than half in love with him since day one, and in trying to claw out

of the pit of his own desire, Keith only seems capable of falling deeper & deeper into Shiro.

& Keith does try.

Really, he does.

He knows his crush is inappropriate.

That Shiro couldn't reciprocate even if he /wanted/ to.

& that shouldn't goad Keith on, except.

Except

sometimes (or more like quite often), it does.

Keith thinks Shiro is Too Good, Too Pure, Too Damned Perfect, to have even /considered/ fucking Keith. To have wondered what it would be like to have him, however Shiro wants him, because Keith is willing and he wants it all, and Keith feels guilty as he screws his eyes shut and

wraps his hand around himself and imagines what it would feel like if it were Shiro's cool prosthetic against Keith's flushed, sensitive cock and, some days, just the thought of Shiro looking at Keith /as/ he touches him is enough to have Keith spilling himself everywhere.

But

then...

Then he'll catch Shiro watching him quietly. Face so impassive you'd think he was zoning out instead of taking it all in.

Except Keith, Keith can see the hint of a frown at the very edges of Shiro's mouth, watches the line of Shiro's lips get thinner & thinner, flatter

& flatter as Keith leans in closer and laughs harder at what Whoeverthefuck said, and Keith gets more turned on by the millisecond of fire, possessive, desperate, wanting /fire/ that burns in Shiro's eyes than anything he and Whatshisnuts do in the other man's apartment later.

Keith is still thinking about it, the way that look went straight to his cock, a frission of continued, contained anticipation - it was the moment playing out behind his eyelids as he came hard around NotfuckingShiro, spilling hot and sticky all over NotfuckingShiro's hand as

Keith bit back Shiro's name - & Keith is already half hard again because it's /Shiro/ and.

And maybe
Just...

Just maybe.

& Hope swells in Keith's chest until he's certain every rib is cracked and breaking and, oh, Hope...

If she isn't a bitch of a mistress, Keith thinks,

laying his heart at the foot of her altar & allowing himself to wish, just for the moment, that Shiro might feel this thing that is consuming Keith, too.

After Kerberos --

And all they have been through -

The time, the distance, the differences and the things that never changed, Keith is still holding out hope and Shiro is still holding back.

Keith pushes harder; flirts and touches and tries so desperately to get Shiro's

attention but Shiro can't bring himself to look, anymore, so tired of hurting his /own/ feelings, & Keith stopped taking home strangers years ago but Shiro didn't even seem to notice and, slowly, agonizingly, Keith feels that hope dying in his chest, closing his throat around any

more direct confession he might recklessly risk making and he knows.

Keith has always known.

Shiro just.

Doesn't want him, doesn't /love him/, like that, and, really.

Keith is working on accepting that.

He is.

But the news doesn't break Keith any less when Shiro tells him

he's going to marry Curtis, Shiro's eyes strangely guarded as he asks Keith to be his best man.

Keith says yes, of course he does, if only to crowd out the sound of his shattering heart.

Keith thought he'd given up on hope long enough ago that this shouldn't crush him but.

He's wrong.

It's staggering and painful and makes him want to cry and scream and destroy something and throw himself into an abyss and he can't let Shiro see any of that.

Can only let Shiro see how happy Keith is that Shiro is happy.

Can only hope Shiro isn't looking close

enough to see just how much he's lying.

He's happy for Shiro, he is.

But he is also broken to the core of his being, to the very center of who & what he is.

How had Keith spent all this time trapped in Shiro's orbit to not realize that Shiro was a fundamental part /of/ him?

Keith tries not to think of all the time he has wasted.

Tries not to pick apart whether the time was most wasted on wanting, in staying quiet, or in the way he stood still for so very long, waiting for Shiro to realize or decide or finally /see/.

Keith had never, even in his

wildest, cruelest dreams, imagined Shiro would see him, realize Keith'd grown and become a man and wasn't a starstruck child anymore, & decide to love someone else instead.

So Keith knows what he's doing when he pushes into Shiro's place after his bachelor party on the premise of one more drink, one last night as the two of them, before Shiro shackles himself to that "ball and chain," a toast, a moment, between comrades, friends, the best of,

nothing more.

Keith's going to be Shiro's best man tomorrow, after all, they can just stop celebrating /now/.

He knows what he's doing when he smiles a little too hotly at Shiro, Keith's eyes honest and wanting as he hands Shiro a tumbler, his fingertips holding tight to the glass, lingering beneath Shiro's, forcing him to take the drink from Keith's hand.

The both shiver slightly at

the slide of skin against skin and the way Shiro's Adams apple bobs as he swallows heavily eggs Keith on.

He knows what he's doing when he sits, sliding close to Shiro, pressing his lean thigh tight against the other man's thick one, and leaning over his lap as Keith pours him

another because, why not, they're enjoying themselves, right?

Shiro knows he should move away, put some distance between them but he is completely caught in the web of Keith's starlight eyes and inkspill hair and sharp, sharp teeth.

Instead Shiro pushes against Keith's side,

lays his arm against the back of the couch so nothing is separating the press of their bodies.

Keith's heart is pounding, begging him to stop and to keep going and for this moment to last for forever.

He knows that isn't possible, that this is all he'll ever have, and so

Keith doesn't stop himself.

And so, Keith knows /exactly/ what he's doing when he slides himself into Shiro's lap, presses himself up against the other man's broad, broad chest, hips tilting down, pushing, rubbing, his hands grasping at Shiro's shoulders and /yes/.

There's that fire.

Keith isn't even

kissing Shiro yet and Shiro's hands are on Keith's hips, skimming his waist, twisting in his hair as he pulls their mouths together - hard and wanting and fucking delicious.

Craven and wanton and every sound and twitch and taste drives Keith on. He thinks he'd intended to stop

at some point but Shiro is lifting him up like he weighs nothing and Keith /feels/ weightless and Shiro has already kissed him breathless and there is nothing left in Keith to protest as Shiro carries Keith into his room.

As he presses Keith into the mattress, boxes him in with

his body and his heat and agonizing years of denial and need spilling out as greed as Shiro tries to devour Keith, as Keith just /lets him/.

Keith lets Shiro take everything he wants, urging him on with little noises and quick nips and sharp nails, both of them insatiable.

Neither of them are thinking of tomorrow and Keith lets Shiro take and take and take, absorbs every I love you, I want you, I need you pushed beneath his skin with Shiro's mouth and tongue and teeth, hands and cock and entire being.

Shiro sighs a litany of the times he's wanted

Keith, been driven mad by the smaller man. Shiro moans out how crazy and desperate and out of control Keith makes him feel into the space between Keith's sweaty shoulder blades as he loses himself in the realization of all his fantasies, stored up and pent up, multiplied and

magnified by so many dark nights spent longing to claim Keith as his own.

Longing for even just the one night Keith had allowed so many others.

Longing for something Shiro believed he could never have, and he whispers "mine" into the nape of Keith's neck, imprints it into

Keith's hips with the possessive grip of his fingers, grinds it out between their bodies as Shiro finally, fucking /finally/, gets to take what's /his/.

Keith wasn't prepared for the force of Shiro's desire, he had let himself believe he would be the one in control, calling the shots, coaxing every moment, movement out of Shiro with kid gloves. Instead, Keith is nearly struck dumb by the force & the weight & the ferociousness of

everything Shiro has been keeping locked inside, all this time.

Even now, well past grown & on the eve of his wedding to another man, Shiro has never wanted like he wants for Keith.

He convinced himself long ago that this unmitigated & unrealizable /want/ was there to keep him

and his ego in check. To remind Shiro that, no matter how big & perfect & worthy the universe saw him, he actually /couldn't/ have it all.

To remind him of patience and focus and self control and self denial and all the things a good leader needs to possess, when all Shiro had

ever truly wanted to have was Keith.

Except.

Except here Keith is, writhing and gasping and fuckdrunk beneath him, pushing back against Shiro and keening out his name and biting his own lips bloody as he takes all of Shiro's thick cock like he was fucking built for it.

And

Shiro knows he'll never be the same. Knows with startling clarity that this was a huge mistake, even as he dives deeper into the moment, putting everything he has into the thrust of his body into Keith's.

Nothing and no one else will ever be enough to slake Shiro's thirst, to

placate the torrent of needwantlove he feels for Keith.

Curtis will /never/ come close to being enough for Shiro now.

& Shiro clings tighter to Keith's slim hips in an attempt to keep them both upright, the world tilting on its axis as Shiro gives Keith all of himself without

mercy.

Keith has never felt so full, so taken, so utterly /possessed/ by anyone before.

He isn't sure where he ends and Shiro begins and as they move together he lets himself believe they are one, even if only for this slice of time and space, before they have to slide back

apart, into their own singular bodies, and Keith would give anything to be able to crawl into Shiro and never come out.

But Keith knows better than to hope, for she abandoned him long ago, and he loses his rhythm beneath Shiro as his orgasm begins to crest, as Shiro wraps the

cool metal of his prosthetic hand around Keith's aching dick and proves to him again that reality with Shiro is so much better than anything Keith has imagined while fucking himself or someone else.

Keith has held out as long as he physically can and he finally allows himself cry out Shiro's name as he comes, hard and long and earthshatteringly, whole brainbodysoul whiting out as Shiro finds his own release inside of Keith's hungry body.

Shiro doesn't stop himself from

collapsing on top of Keith, doesn't hesitate to keep caressing and curl their bodies together and tell all the parts of Keith Shiro couldn't reach before that they are beautiful and he loves them.

Keith's heart is full and his stomach is twisting and he holds Shiro gently as

the other man comes down, body growing steadily heavier against Keith's as Keith pets his fingers through Shiro's thick floof of hair until he hears his breathing even out into sleep.

Keith knows he shouldn't, that he's tortured himself enough for a lifetime with this one night

but he allows himself to hold Shiro a little longer, lies to himself about how it's only to ensure the other man is truly asleep, before he forces himself to slip out of Shiro's bed, into his clothes, back out into the real world.

Keith ignores the way his hands and his

breathing and his heart continue to tremble, tells himself he's just tired, he just needs to get home, get to bed, to /sleep/.

Keith knows he will need time to put himself back together in the morning, frankly, as he'll need to look his very best.

Tomorrow's a big day - after

all, it isn't every day the love of your life marries another man.

--fin?--

I also blame this post entirely for this thing happening in my mind.

I mean. Just look at him. 😩🥺🥺🥺

https://twitter.com/nexusnie/status/1518721663604510731?t=8eQGEbPKwlmtu0L0SKYkdg&s=19

#sheith because it is the love that never ends. Even when it fucking hurts you. #themorningafter #weburnwepineweperish

Keith feels surprisingly light the next morning, which is strange, he knows. Keith is aware he should feel guilty, ashamed, even, but he can’t muster it.

Instead, he feels as if someone lifted a boulder off his chest, a huge weight that had been crushing his lungs for so long he wasn’t even aware of it any longer just. Suddenly gone; Keith feels strangely weightless, untethered, /free/.

Keith hums to himself as he shaves, orders

a packing service to come later in the week to move his stuff to storage as he makes his morning coffee, gives them access to the locks and strict instructions, knowing he’ll already be gone.

Keith isn’t honestly too sure he’ll make it through the wedding, but his pride will

force him to hold out as long as he possibly can.

His heart thinks maybe it’s time he surrounded himself with people that love him.

Keith sends a message to his mom, lets her know he’ll be in the area, maybe, if she wants him to be. He’s getting off Earth for a while, if

nothing else - there’s nothing keeping him here, anymore. He can’t keep doing this to himself, anymore.

He ignores a fourth message from Shiro, thankful he’d finally stopped calling, at least, and thinks a silent ‘what’s there to say?’ in response to Shiro’s ‘Keith, please. I

need to talk to you. We need to talk about what happened last night.’

Keith puts his phone down, wanders off to the bathroom trying to decide how to style his hair, making a mental list of the things he needs to have delivered while he’s out today so he can be gone tonight,

still softly humming to himself.

Shiro, meanwhile, is pacing the floors and climbing the walls. He hasn’t gotten dressed or showered Keith off of himself or managed to control his heartrate. He is reliving every glorious moment in agonizing, mortifying detail.

He doesn’t know

what he was thinking.

He feels like an idiot, which is really nothing new, not when it comes to Keith, Shiro thinks with a grimace.

Shiro had let himself falls asleep in Keith’s arms believing that he would still be in them when he woke up that morning.

The fact that he wasn’t

was a vicious shock to Shiro’s system, he’d prefer someone just actually kicked him in the ribs while he was down, if it was all the same to the universe.

His body confirms in a myriad of ways that he certainly wasn’t dreaming, but his heart desperately wishes it was all a lie.

Shiro had thought Keith wanted more than just one night, that Keith wanted /him/, had maybe always wanted him; that Keith wasn’t going to let him go without a fight.

Shiro wasn’t ready for the punch in the gut that was discovering, all over again, that he just isn’t quite enough

for the Keith to want, or need, or /love/.

He thought he was past this silly, unrequited crush of his, but as his calls and his messages go unanswered, Shiro knows to the core of his being that he never will be.

That it has always been Keith.

That it will always /be/ Keith.

Politically incorrect, overtly passionate, blindingly vibrant /Keith/.

The wrong choice for his career, for the ideal of a peaceful life, and the only choice Shiro’s heart is capable of making for itself.

Shiro thinks it’s a damn good thing he’s spent so much time practicing

the art of self-denial and wonders how else he’d find it in himself to turn away from Keith and say ‘I do’ to Curtis, thinks he should say something, anything, everything, to Curtis about what happened last night but…

Shiro can’t.

Not until he talks to Keith, first.

He has to

see him, has to look into his eyes and /know/.

With a heavy sigh, Shiro sets his phone down and goes through the motions of getting ready.

It’s his big day, after all.

Meanwhile, Keith packs the few things he can’t live without, knowing the rest will be safe in storage but not

actually caring if he ever sees any of it again. It all belongs to a different life, a different /him/, Keith thinks. He chuckles when he realizes the majority of the stuff he’s packed belongs to Kosmo. The wolf has been surprisingly quiet today, watching Keith putter about from

his favorite spot on the couch with soft, curious eyes.

Keith pats his head fondly, tells Kosmo they’re going to go on an adventure, together, the two of them, and wraps a burgundy bow tie around his neck.

Keith presses his face into Kosmo’s ruff, breathes a deep, steadying

breath, forcing the wetness from the corners of his eyes, murmurs, “You and me, buddy, you and me until the end.” Kosmo gives a small whine in reply, licks at Keith’s face, noses at his neck, tries to offer Keith what comfort he can

By midmorning Keith has his emotions firmly in control, his affairs for getting offworld squared away, and is even early to the wedding venue, helping get the last minute touches completed, looking every bit the supportive best man, a gorgeous, shiny, impeccably dressed best

/friend/ - he almost even believes in the illusion himself.

Keith knows, eventually, he will have to face Shiro, but. But until that moment he is more than content to continue to pretend, to continue the familiar charade. He hums softly, reaching down to press his fingers into

the fur atop Kosmo’s head, self-soothing and distracted, anxious to have this behind him already.

By midmorning Shiro is spiraling out of control.

He isn’t dressed, he’s barely showered or shaved, barely even eaten breakfast or had a cup of coffee, barely thought about

anything except what it will be like to see Keith, again, now, /knowing/.

Shiro would swear he slept wondrously, under the delusion that Keith was snuggled against him, happy and sated and /there/, but there are dark bags under Shiro’s eyes and a slick, sick roll in his stomach

and his palms, fuck, but they won’t stop sweating in reality.

He stares at himself in the mirror and struggles.

Tries to focus on what he needs to be doing, but.

But…

But Shiro is covered in Keith.

Keith, who won’t even speak to him.

He is covered in nailbitesuckandfuck marks; all cleverly hidden by his tux while burning like fresh brands against his flesh.

Shiro knows Curtis will know, without having to ask, who put them there.

There is only one person Shiro would risk so much for.

Keith is the only thing

Shiro and Curtis have ever fought about and Shiro has proven everything Curtis has ever accused Shiro of to be true.

After all, he /is/ in love with Keith, no matter how many times he’s denied it.

Shiro thinks maybe he’ll just get so drunk he passes out before they can make it

to their honeymoon suite and, not for the first time that morning, feels shame twist alongside the self-loathing and the wanting and the fear in his stomach.

He runs a clammy hand through his hair, tells himself it’s completely normal to be nervous on your wedding day,

and figures this is as good as he’s gonna get.

Time to get this show on the road, he thinks, mouth twisting as he reminds himself that he chose this. Tries to convince himself he wants this, knowing it’s little more than a consolation prize, and Shiro feels Keith beneath him,

hears Keith crying out his name, and shudders at the sense memories that already haunt him.

It's going to be a long day, Shiro thinks as he pulls the door closed behind him with a sigh.

When Shiro arrives, shaking and sick and unsure of anything anymore, he is unable to appreciate the beauty and splendor around him. Instead, he zeros right in on Keith, standing on tip toe and trying to get a garland to hang /just so/, striding right up behind him and saying,

low, as levelly as he can, "/Keith/, let's talk. Now."

Keith spins to face Shiro, finding him close, too close, surprise and trepidation quickly masked behind a jubilant smile. "Of course, Shiro, what is it?"

Keith blinks up into Shiro's face, all innocence and wide eyes, and

something in Shiro snaps in half.

He takes another step closer to Keith, the darkness in his face, the aggressive bent of his body, causing the smaller man to shrink back, expression faltering as Shiro hisses out, "What is it? What /is/ it?? /What IS it/?!"

Shiro grabs Keith's arms, heedless of who might be watching, and almost shakes him, certainly Shiro grips him too tight, pulls him in too close in his fury, desperate for Keith to tell Shiro he isn't the only one coming apart at the seams over this.

Instead, Keith's face becomes

a mask of impassivity, a small hand closing over top of one of Shiro's, eyes as sharp as his voice as he grits out, "Take your hands off me. If you want to talk, we should probably do it somewhere ... /else/."

Somewhere other than the very spot Shiro is set to marry another man

in a few hours time, Keith doesn't bother to add, doesn't need to.

They're both aware of what is at stake here.

Shiro immediately drops his hold on Keith's arms, chagrined, and steps back, gestures for Keith to lead the way, keeps his eyes on Keith's heels as he follows him into the small room intended for the groom's use before the ceremony.

Keith turns to Shiro, having closed the door

behind them, and Shiro finally looks back up into Keith's face.

The air between them is instantly electric and, for a moment, neither of them are sure whether they're going to throw themselves at the other or not.

But then Keith clears his throat, shifts, breaks eye contact

and asks Shiro, "What's wrong?"

Shiro makes a low, angry sound in his throat. "Why haven't you taken my calls or messaged me back?" he counters.

Keith shrugs noncommittally. "Been a busy morning, big day and all," he says with false cheerfulness, willing Shiro silently to just

drop it, let it go.

Instead he asks, anguished, "Why did you leave? Why didn't you stay with me?"

The broken pieces of Keith's heart crumble as his chin tilts up, defiant to the end, "Why should I have?"

And they both remember all the things Shiro said into Keith's skin in

the quiet of the night.

And they both break a little deeper.

"You don't want me." Shiro says flatly, saying aloud what he's long feared most.

Keith laughs, hollow and dry, "Oh, Shiro. I wanted you so much, for so long, I had to let it go for my own sanity."

Keith takes a deep breath, holds up a hand to silence Shiro when he goes to speak, and says "I should never have let it go that far last night, that was my mistake and I take full responsibility. No," he silences Shiro again, a sharp shake of his head, "I know it takes two and

all that but I went in with the intention of proving that you want me, even though you're marrying him - /because/ you are. And that was childish and cruel of me, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I let my ego get the best of me and I failed to respect your choices, thinking I knew

better, and that makes me the worst kind of friend, of person."

Keith takes another deep, steadying breath, searches deep within himself, says, "I want to be better, not just to you, but to myself, /for/ myself. And I want you to be happy, and I am happy for you, truly, Shiro,

I am," he says in earnest, "But it will destroy me to watch it, day after day, and that's on me, something I have to work on, to figure out for myself. It isn't your fault or your problem."

Keith pauses, reaches out and takes Shiro's hand, squeezing for just a moment before he

drops it. Looks into Shiro's eyes and says, not unkindly, "At the end of the day, it has never been about me wanting you, Shiro, it has always been about whether or not you were willing to chose me. In the end, you weren't. In the end, I caused us to do something that we can't

take back but that also doesn't change any of the facts. I love you, I will always be here for you, but I can't stay here beside you. And today is still your wedding day and it's also my last day on planet, probably for a long, long time.

Let's make the most of it, let's enjoy what we can, let's be happy for one another, let's support each other like we always have. Deal?"

Tears are streaming down his face but Shiro manages to nod, a black hole tearing open in his soul.

Maybe one day Shiro will be able to

accept that he waited to long, that he let fear and hesitation turn the tide of the only battle he ever wanted to win for reasons beyond duty and honor and survival.

Today won't be that day, but he'll be strong for Keith.

Keith spent so long being strong for him, after all.

When all Keith had ever wanted was for Shiro to be happy. To be truly, unadulteratedly /happy/. For him to find that thing that brings his soul peace at night, for him to find that person that quiets the storm that still rages inside Shiro when he least expects it.

Truly, he wants Shiro to have the world.

Keith had just, foolishly, hopelessly, helplessly, wanted to be the one to give it to him.

Keith had believed, with all they had been through and shared, the things they had said, the things they had never said, that it /would/ be him.

He's working on accepting that he was wrong; Keith's self aware enough to know much of loving and wanting and yearning for Shiro was wrapped up in not being able to have him, in constantly trying to prove himself worthy.

Keith stands in front of all their friends and their

families and people who mean little to nothing and tries to hold himself together, tries to let only pride and joy and an acceptable amount of love for his friend into his tone, show on his face. Tries not to feel Shiro's hands in his hair, or the way his body feels clinging to

Keith's as if it is the only thing keeping him grounded, sane, while raising a glass, proudly telling the world that Shiro deserves everything, that Curtis is a lucky man.

Keith speaks of a love that transcends time and distance and will hold a person, a /couple/ together,

through everything life has to offer - the good, the bad, and the mundane.

Keith confesses everything he feels for Shiro under the guise of wishing it all to him and Curtis through their years, he wishes Shiro, and Curtis by extension, the world, toasts the happy couple and

asks the universe to bless them with many years of bliss together, and never breaks eye contact with Shiro as he puts down his glass without taking a sip.

Tears are standing in Keith's eyes, his chest is caving in, and Kosmo's coldwetvelvet nose is the only thing keeping him together as those around clap and cheer and Shiro's eyes never leave his face, even as he clinks his glass with Curtis's, with Allura to his left, then with

Lance and Pidge and Hunk.

Shiro's glass is out, available for whatever happy guest wants to toast to the illusion of his happy, perfect, wonderful life, but his eyes keep taking Keith in, painfully aware this likely the last time he will see him for a long, long time.

Keith looks away, tries to keep up a smile for those around but he knows, it's time for him to go, he's had all he can take.

It takes all Shiro has to follow Keith with only his eyes, to let him go and not feel like Keith's taking his heart and his breath and his reason for

being with him.

What a pair of fools they make, Curtis thinks, smug, believing he's finally won.

#Sheith TW: Narcissistic/manipulative behavior, yuck.
Part Three - Reborn from the Ashes

Shiro can't explain it but, he /feels/ it, the moment that Keith leaves Earth.

Shiro is sitting on the end of the bed Curtis and he are supposed to share that night, face in his hands,

asking himself how he let it get this far.

He barely remembers the service, doesn't recall saying 'I do,' though he clearly must have. Shiro mostly remembers white noise in his ears, Keith hadn't given Shiro much space to talk after his confession, after telling Shiro he was

leaving because Shiro had made Keith believe Keith isn't what Shiro wants, leaving because Keith believes Curtis is what Shiro wants, what Shiro chose for himself, what makes Shiro /happy/.

What a joke, Shiro thinks as he laughs bitterly, really he hadn't done much to dissuade

Keith in the end, had he?

But Shiro had seen in Keith's eyes just how much he needed to get away, to prove himself, if only /to/ himself. And, in turn, Shiro had forced himself to let Keith go, clinging to the hope that Keith might find what he's looking for out there among the

stars, alongside a still burning love for Shiro.

He knows it's foolish but. Shiro's heart isn't ready to give up yet.

Curtis comes in from the luxurious bathroom their suite holds, barely dressed, and harumphs when he sees Shiro hasn't moved an inch from where he left him at

the edge of the bed at least half an hour ago. Ridiculous, Curtis thinks.

It was bad enough that Shiro had spent the entire service and reception looking blank-eyes and remorseful, but it was done, now.

Keith is /gone/.
Shro is /his/.

Curtis should not have to remind his /husband/ of such facts.

But he will, if necessary, as often as necessary.

Curtis deserves more from Shiro, he had been patient and fought for what he wants and he /stayed/, he stayed by Shiro's side, through all of it, and he deserves to be loved and praised, appreciated and fawned over.

Curtis /deserves/ for his husband to want to fuck his brains out

with unyielding passion and fervent desire on their blessed WEDDING NIGHT.

Really.

He /isn't/ asking for too much.

Curtis only wants what is his by right.

"Takashi," he says, voice reproachful, "What is /with/ you today?"

Shiro's eyes snap up to Curtis's face, drawn back to

reality, to the present obstacle, by Curtis's voice. "I made a mistake."

It is both all encompassing and grossly inadequate a statement in so many ways.

"What?" Curtis snaps, eyes narrowing, "What /kind/ of...mistake?"

"So many," Shiro whispers, chest full to bursting with

shame and love and realization.

Shiro stands.

He carefully removes his shirt.

His eyes never leave Curtis's face as Curtis's eyes take in the carnage Keith left behind.

When Curtis looks back into Shiro's eyes, Shiro is startled, not so much by the utter lack hostility, but

by the triumph, the cool, controlled lack of care they hold.

"Keith." Curtis states.

"Keith." Shiro confirms.

Curtis's lips curl in a not-entirely-unkind-but-entirely-too-smug smile, "Well, good then. You got it out of your system."

Shiro's gasped intake of breath is sharp, startled, his eyes wide as he stares at Curtis in bewilderment. "I...I...What??"

Curtis chuckles darkly, and

there is no kindness in his smile now. "Did you think I didn't know? Know how YOU felt about that /boy/? Everyone has always known how in love he is with you. He'd, quite literally, die for you. Without a second thought, a moments hesitation. That boy would follow any order you

gave without question. Hell, the running joke at Garrison has long been that if you asked him to, he'd cease breathing on the spot, stop his heart from beating in his chest, for /you/." Curtis laughs and Shiro hears the genuine mirth in it, and Shiro's stomach churns.

Has Curtis always been this way? Shiro's heart is pounding, his stomach growing more sick by the moment, and he wonders if he knows this man at all.

Shiro opens his mouth, he isn't even sure what he intends to say, but Curtis is on a roll now, can't stop himself, throwing his

hands up in frustration, "What was always more nebulous were your feelings. People made jokes, of course, about him being your fuck puppet, about you putting that bratty mouth to good use, but no one really believed it. Everyone thought it was incredibly one sided, still believes

that you are just too oblivious to see it, too noble, but I knew. I knew how you felt, saw how you tortured yourself with it, how you longed for something you thought you couldn't have. Something that was so clearly yours. It was, well. Endearing, Takashi," Curtis's smile is all

sharp edges now, voice honeythick and cloying, and Shiro thinks, not for the first time, that he's going to throw up, "It made me want you for myself. And so, I took you and I made you mine and now /I have you/. That boy is gone, that ship has, quite literally, sailed. You can

finally stop torturing yourself and let's get on with our lives." Curtis sighs, rubbing at his temples, and turns back to Shiro. Voice saccharinely sweet as he smiles fondly down at Shiro, "It's ok, Takashi. I forgive you."

Shiro practically chokes on his own tongue.

His eyes so wide they should have fallen from his sockets due to the laws of physics alone.

Shiro has made so many missteps and miscalculations, he is quickly coming to discover, but most shocking might be the realization that he is

married to a complete stranger. That Curtis manipulated everything up to this point, manipulated /him/. Shiro can hear the number of times Curtis subtly turned him away from Keith, kept him convinced that Keith was out of reach, something he couldn't and shouldn't have.

Shiro

goes from shocked to outraged, eyes slitting as his hands clench and unclench at his sides, "You!" Shiro chokes out, as Curtis just smirks, as Shiro's head swims from the onslaught of reality. "I. I don't want this. I don't want /you/. I. I... I can't." He grabs his things and

Curtis sputters and Shiro says, "I'll have annulment paperwork drawn up and delivered to you in the morning." Curtis starts to rage, his face furious, but Shiro cuts him off, "/This/ was a mistake."

He leaves Curtis stammering behind him, wondering how he could have been so

blind to so much. How he could have been so stupidly naïve, so fucking trusting. How he could have pushed everyone who truly cared for him far enough away that this is how he ended up.

Alone.

Married to man he had never loved, that he wasn't sure was even capable of love.

Manipulated and twisted and angry - at the Garrison, for always asking for more, at Curtis, for knowing just what to say to get it, at himself, for never considering 'no' as an option available to /him/.

Truly, he blames himself, as is Shiro's nature, he shoulders the

responsibility and then sets about trying to make it right.

He has the forms delivered to Curtis first thing in the morning.

Curtis sends the courier back with a message that reads simply, "I won't sign this."

Shiro crumples the paper in his prosthetic hand, eyes blind with

rage - Curtis has him by the balls and the both know it.

Even worse, Shiro isn't sure how to reach Keith.

If he even /should/.

The man had asked for space, time, for Shiro to leave him be, after all.

So Shiro writes him letters.

Letters that he hands off to Pidge.

Letters that Pidge passes off to Krolia.

Whether Krolia gives them to Keith, Shiro doesn't know.

Shiro doesn't get a response.

Sometimes Pidge is kind enough to let him know that Keith is ok and they keep taking Shiro's letters.

At first they were passionate, full of his

love and promises, apologies and understanding.

Then they became almost revelatory, as he shared with Keith his feelings as he unburied them, the old and the new, the mundane and the life changing.

He tells Keith everything.

Tells him about his days, his dreams, how much

he misses Keith, how happy he hopes Keith is, out there.

Sometimes, he just sends Keith poems and song lyrics, audioclips on occasion, but mostly he writes them out, highlights or underlines the parts that really speak to him.

Shiro hopes Keith understands what Shiro still

struggles sometimes to say.

Shiro is waiting for him.

Shiro will wait for Keith until Keith tells him to stop, that it's hopeless.

Shiro will probably keep waiting for Keith, even then.

So he writes his letters, day after day and week after week, never getting a response.

So he sends Curtis the paperwork, again and again, never getting a response.

So he signs every letter, 'longing to see you, with all that I am, yours' and he waits.

Shiro has always been a patient man and he knows Keith is worth waiting for.

___
Keith feels so very, very many things as he and Kosmo lift off and head up and out and out and out.

He's a tangled mess of a million contradictory things and so he focuses on the good.

On the freedom & the joy & the weightlessness of space, of choosing himself.

He feels

a little guilty for not giving Shiro room to speak, but.

Keith had been terrified Shiro would say just what it took to sway him, to break through his resolve and keep him there.

And, in the end, Shiro had said yes to Curtis and that had told Keith all he had really needed to

know.

Keith told himself he was free of all of that, now.

And he even felt close to /being free/, some days.

Krolia had been almost feral in her insistence that /of course/ Keith was welcome there.

She'd asked him no questions, needed no explanations, was honored Keith had

reached out to her when searching for himself.

When he arrived they said little by way of greeting, but she had held her arms out to him and Keith had instantly fallen into them, grateful for the shelter from the storm of his emotions.

Keith released them all then, the good,

the bad, the pain and happiness and fear and doubt and love and loss and every other thing he held within himself, and Krolia accepted the onslaught, held Keith through it all until he quieted.

She didn't know what had happened between Keith and Shiro but she knew he was the

only soul on Earth who could affect her son so.

Krolia also knew of his wedding.

And so she said nothing, and held her son, and hummed soothingly into his hair, as she had done when he was far too young to remember.

Finally she asked, "Hungry?"

Keith laughed, a bubble of snot

escaping his nose and causing him to laugh harder, "Yeah," Keith said, sighing some of the tension between his shoulders out. "Yeah, I could eat"

Keith starts working with the Blades and learning about his mother and himself, starts exploring things that interest him without the need for them to be applicable to battle or strategy or survival.

Keith finds he's rather fond of this life he's living, even if, sometimes,

it feels a little like something is still missing.

Pidge brings Krolia the first letter only a few weeks after Keith gets there.

The envelope has Keith's name on it, but Pidge had looked Krolia dead in the eye as they handed her the envelope.

"He isn't ready yet." Then, "I

trust you to know when he is."

There is no need to discuss who the letter is from.

Krolia can't deny she is curious what the letter, and each subsequent missive, contains, but she never opens them, not a single one. Even as she has stacks two dozen high hidden in all her

drawers.

She didn't ask, didn't pry, didn't peek.

Pidge continued to bring them and Krolia continued to keep them, in order, week upon week upon month upon month upon year upon year.

The fact that they kept coming was a clear sign of Shiro's devotion but Krolia just keeps

holding on to them.

Waiting for what, she isn't quite sure.

Trusting that she will know when the time is right, when her son is ready, just as Pidge had.

___________________________________
It is the third anniversary of Shiro's "wedding" to Curtis.

The third year since he has seen or heard from Keith.

He keeps writing his letters, and Pidge keeps taking them, and Shiro still needs gets anything in response.

He keeps sending

annulment papers and divorce options to Curtis and never gets anything in response.

Shiro and Curtis live within five miles of each other but he hasn't seen Curtis for almost a year now.

Bitterness has turned him into a drunk, Shiro has heard, but he can't find it within

himself to feel guilty or compassion or anything, really.

All he wants is to be free.

And maybe Shiro is the one who has had a few too many that night, after /decidedly/ too much thinking, when he shows up on Curtis's doorstep, knocking hard enough to cave the door in and

shouting for Curtis to get the fuck out there at a decibel level beyond inappropriate for 11:48 PM on a Wednesday.

Shiro is still not as drunk as Curtis is when Curtis opens the front door but Shiro is vastly more belligerent - he doesn't have the tolerance Curtis has developed

over their time as estranged husband & husband, and it shows.

Shiro pushes the door open wide, grabbing Curits up by the front of his shirt and says in a hissing scream, "FUCKING SIGN THE GODDAMN FUCKING ANNULMENT PAPERS OR TELL ME WHAT IT WILL COST ME TO BE FREE OF YOU BECAUSE

I AM DONE LIVING LIKE THIS. LET. ME. /GO/."

Which Curtis finds to be a hilarious statement, since he is the one currently caught, held fast in Shiro's strong grip.

And maybe laughing in Shiro's face isn't the smartest thing to do in the given moment, Curtis thinks as Shiro

shakes him, but he's still laughing, nearly crying with it, as he gestures to a small table with a single drawer by the doorway.

"There," Curtis manages, still chuckling as Shiro drops him and stalks over to pull the drawer out roughly.

His mouth drops open when he realizes

the drawer contains a copy of the annulment agreement.

Shiro's jaw nearly hits the ground when he realizes it's the first set of papers he sent, three years ago, signed.

Shiro had been free. He'd been free this whole time. He was still working out how to process that

information when Curtis, still laughing, says, "I knew, one day, it would be worth it to you enough to come get them yourself." And he is still laughing, though it is mostly just tears now, as he stands, "Goodbye, Takashi," as he turns away, leaving a trembling Shiro alone in his

entry way, front door wide open.

Shiro is kind enough, shell shocked enough, to turn the lock on the knob and close the door behind him on his way out.

He files the paperwork online as soon as he walks through the door back into his own home, hands still trembling.

He puts the

original document in an envelope, along with his instructions on how to manage his things while he is gone, and calls for a courier to come round and deliver them to his lawyer first thing.

He messages Pidge.

It's time.

He needs to see Keith.

Pidge is surprised when Shiro's message asks after Keith's whereabouts, instead of his usual, almost shy, note that he has letters Shiro'd like them to deliver, if they can, if they don't mind, next time they are out.

Pidge had expected this query early on, had been prepared to

kindly tell Shiro 'no,' but.

It's been three years.

They aren't sure, anymore.

So they do what they've been doing this whole time and trusts that someone else out there knows better than they do about this emotional crap, and they message Krolia.

"He wants to see Keith."

They message Shiro, "I'll see what I can do."

And so Shiro, no longer willing to just sit and wait, takes off without a destination, clinging only to hope.

Shiro is following his heart, for the first time in far too long, and he believes that, if Keith really is /his/,

if Keith still loves him, if Keith /wants him/, the universe will lead Shiro to him.

And so he trusts to that hope he is clinging to, and waits for a message.

Keith always gets low around the time he arrived.

Like the feelings and memories that drove him there have orbited back around to haunt him.

He'd been doing so well this year, Krolia had even managed to get him out on several dates over the past few months!, but same as every

year before, she found him in the Nunvill, staring out at the stars, looking frustrated (which was new) and forlorn (which was not).

"What is it, kit?" She asks, still hesitant to pry.

Keith looks over at his mother, then frowns down into his glass.

"I think I thought I was

lonely, but. Really. I think I just miss him," Keith says it simply, a plain, if ugly, truth, and her heart squeezes.

"Kit-- Keith, I. I have something for you." Keith looks at her, curious, but he says nothing just follows as Krolia motions for him to. "I think it's time," she

is saying, "I think you're ready."

Once in her quarters, Krolia finds herself nervous, unsure. "Don't be upset, please," she says, gathering piles and boxes and stacks from drawers and under her bed and out of the closet, laying them out meticulously as Keith silently watches,

a crease between his drawn brows. "I never seemed the right time, before," she murmurs, handing him the first of Shiro's hundreds of letters.

Krolia is afraid that Keith will be afraid she kept them from him for so long, "Pidge brings more every time they come," and then she

leaves Keith to read Shiro's words in privacy.

Keith sits on his mothers floor, piles surrounding him, multiplying as he reads and reads and reads. He doesn't stop, doesn't come up for air.

There are so many things Keith has missed.

So many moments he wouldn't have yet been

ready to share.

Krolia paces the base, and has to huff out a quiet sound of amusement when her phone pings with Pidge's message.

Yes.
It had definitely been the right time.

She tells Pidge they can pass on the bases coordinates and waits for her son to emerge.

Several galaxies away, a man seized by love is awaiting a sign.

It comes in the sound of a ping, a message from Pidge with coordinates and nothing more.

Shiro crows loudly, though there is no one around to hear him, and immediately plugs them into his nav unit before sending a

THANK YOU to Pidge, heart jackhammering in his chest.

Shiro doubts it will calm down over the course of his four day flight.

He looks forward to Keith, to /seeing/ and maybe even /touching/ the other man, to being in his space, again, and tries not to dwell on what the lack of

response to his letters might mean.

TBC

So I'm putting together the letter and songs and stuff in my mind/on a playlist to get in the mojo to write the last piece of this and thought you might like to know the song on repeat in my brain for Keith. He, at least, keeps it simple.

What Love Looks Like
Mirel Wagner

Through thick and thin
That's what they say
Forgive and forget
Well it's me that has to change
Is this what love looks like?
Is this what love looks like?

Your endless needs
My breaking grieve
You look this way
But you don't see

Is this what love looks like?
Is this what love looks like?

My body is frail
My soul is stained
All things good
Will be washed away
Is this what love looks like?
Is this what love looks like?

This pain I breathe
Has poisoned me
Dreamt a dream
Now I'm spitting bitter tears

Through thick and thin
That's what they say
Forgive and forget
Well it's me that has to change
Is this what love looks like?
Is this what love looks like?

This is what love looks like
Is this what love looks like?
This is what love looks like
Is this what love looks like?

@threadreaderapp unroll