Thread by @RixanDeveroux

(And I’m Not) Getting Over You
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#Sheith [Canonverse, post-series with no epilogue and Allura lived]
{ exes-to-lovers, idiots-to-lovers, Admiral Shiro, Blade Leader Keith, divorce }
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“You’re still wearing your ring?”

Shiro jolted slightly, the question breaking through what had been a set of mindful breathing to ground himself for what was about to happen. He frowned, gray eyes opening to focus on Hunk, who already looked endlessly apologetic. “Huh?”

It wasn’t the most elegant response to a question, but it was all Shiro could manage as he tried to parse what Hunk had even inquired about. The other man helpfully motioned toward Shiro’s left hand as he elaborated, “Your wedding ring, man. Hasn’t it been two years now?”

Shiro’s expression relaxed as he blinked a couple times before tracking his gaze to where Hunk had motioned. Sure enough, there it was: the platinum and black band settled securely on his ring finger. The frown returned to Shiro’s lips as his eyebrows knit together.

“Oh, I… no, I must have…” He trailed off, shaking his head to clear away the strange sensation that crept in around the edges, his eyes not leaving the offending jewelry on his hand. “Force of habit, I guess. I didn’t realize I grabbed it. Maybe all of this had me…”

Had him what, though? He hadn’t worn that ring in the previous two years except on accident a couple other times – and perhaps strictly on purpose a few times he’d returned to Earth, but he didn’t have to openly admit that.

Hunk looked skeptical, but he didn’t press the issue.

Instead, he helped Shiro settle back again, looking him over with the cautious concern that really made Shiro endlessly grateful to have the man as his friend. “You’re sure about all this? I mean, I know you asked us to design it, but it’s not like your current one isn’t good.”

He closed his eyes, taking a couple steadying breaths as he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure, Hunk. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. You know, I kind of miss…” He raised his left hand, motioning to the space where his bicep would be for his right arm. That was part of it, at least.

And yes, if he was honest with himself, part of his decision was absolutely vanity: regaining some semblance of what he’d naturally look like, regaining some symmetry to his physique, no longer requiring any amount of custom tailoring to his uniforms and shirts.

But there was also the other part of it, too. The part where, for all the convenience the floating arm could offer, it still held its share of negative associations. It was a product of war, selected out of necessity, and the startling parallel against an old enemy’s was…

He shook his head slightly to clear that thought away. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for what had been provided, both through Sam’s designs and Allura’s ability to truly bring them to life. But this was a chance to move past that, to strive toward the future more comfortably.

He tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere; it wasn’t just weighing into him but only Hunk as well, and Shiro couldn’t accept that. He chuckled softly, a grin in place. “Well. You know how I feel about medical procedures, Hunk. I’m not sure I’ll ever really get past that.”

There was a moment where Hunk simply froze, his mouth forming a small, stunned O before he inhaled sharply and nodded in understanding. “Right. Yeah, that… that makes sense. But you’re good, right man? We’re good. I mean, we’ve got Allura here, and all the rest of us…”

He trailed off into a hissing wince, quickly averting his gaze, and Shiro understood it. Truly, he did. After all, it wasn’t really all of them there, but that was to be expected. There hadn’t really been an instance where all of them had been together for over two decaphobes.

Except in a couple instances where plans and itineraries hadn’t been fully shared, anyway. It was simply easier that way. No awkward conversations, no avoiding someone who should have been easy company as far as the entire universe was concerned. It helped keep up appearances.

If Shiro was being selfish, it also helped avoid rehashing painful memories. It was a shame, really; no one could have predicted things would turn out the way they did. After all, when he’d gotten together with Keith, he’d been as sure as anyone they’d found their happy ending.

It certainly played out that way: best friends who’d fought through a war together, who’d crossed the universe and back, coming back stronger for it. They’d always been there for each other; they’d saved each other, as the inscription inside his wedding band even declared.

But maybe they’d rushed into it; maybe in the elation of the war ending and peace settling upon the universe, they’d jumped when they should have taken it slower to see if things really worked. The problem was, neither one of them had ever been very good at not taking the dive.

And it was exhilarating, like drop over a cliff on a hoverbike or the feel of flying through space. They burned bright and fast with passion, a whirlwind romance that took them by storm. But the problem with burning bright is how quickly it could spin out of control.

Somehow, neither could fathom it, that love wouldn’t be enough to weather every storm. It wasn’t that they didn’t try. But when schedules couldn’t converge, when time apart exceeded time together, the frustrations set in. The worst part was, they couldn’t seem to connect anymore.

Nitpicking became minor grievances which grew into snipping fights, and both were too stubborn to back down. And they tried. Really, they did. At first, the fights always led to contrite apologies from Keith or patient reconciliation from Shiro. But the troubles kept mounting.

Soon enough, even when they weren’t in different solar systems, they could barely stand to be near each other. About the only thing they could bring themselves to agree on was to avoid dragging it out. As such, neither of them contested anything in their divorce.

In the aftermath, Keith set off with the Blade of Marmora once more, much as he’s done throughout their short marriage, and Shiro continued his own work within the Coalition, strengthening diplomatic ties and the defense force. Their paths hadn’t really crossed since.

Shiro closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, holding it for a count of seven before exhaling slowly, the memories Hunk had inadvertently dredged up slipping away like grains of sand. At the far side of the room, he heard delicate yet determined footfalls heralding an arrival.

“All ready?” The sound of Allura’s voice had him smiling; Shiro looked over in her direction, offering a nod.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Can’t wait.” Any reservations he may have had faded as Allura returned his smile. He had the utmost faith in her ability, after all.

The last time had been somewhat of a fluke; the arm had been experimental at best, and they didn’t know for sure if the power source would integrate with organic physiology. This time, Allura, Pidge, and Hunk already knew what they needed to do. He trusted them.

That helped him relax, even with the nerves and excitement of the new arm. He didn’t fight it when he was put under, and it felt like little more than a moment before he found himself awake again, new arm attached, moving as naturally as if it’d always been part of him.

It was the start of something, he thought as he tested the reflexes at Pidge’s direction, under Allura and Hunk’s watchful eyes. He tried to assure them that it was all unnecessary, tried to reiterate his faith in their work, but he knew they were concerned for his well-being.

So he indulged that, and he indulged Allura’s insistence that he attempt to interface with the Atlas, more than amenable to assuaging her concerns there as well.

It felt… good. Even better than when he’d realized he was free of pain with the previous prosthetic.

This one, naturally, afforded him the same benefit, but it was liberating in so many ways. It felt like he’d stepped free of the last vestiges of everything he’d lived through since Kerberos. Yes, it was the start of something, and whatever it was, he felt it’d be good.

- - - - - - -
Returning to Earth always felt a little strange, if Shiro was perfectly honest with himself. When they’d made the long trek back that first time, it’d been such a point of hope to return home, but they’d returned to a world much-changed from how they remembered it.

For Shiro, it was an even bigger adjustment than for the rest, after his experiences, but it was still home to one degree or another.

After everything, though, he’d taken the time to consider exactly what he wanted to do with himself. It was easy to fall into a routine.

He’d done just that for a while, before different opportunities arose, staying within the Garrison’s ranks while Allura bolstered the position of the Coalition and saw to Altea, Lance following after her, all while Keith… well, Keith began spearheading humanitarian efforts.

Even Hunk – to his own surprise but not really to anyone else’s – had stepped quite naturally into diplomacy, his amiable demeanor building bridges easily as planets came together peaceably. And to less surprise, Pidge dedicated herself to Earth’s technological advancements.

Seeing everyone finding their own places in the changing universe had made Shiro start to reevaluate his own complacency, but it hadn’t been until the divorce that he actually did anything to restructure his life. He’d taken a long, hard look at where things were at that point.

In the time since, he’d seldom returned to the planet of his birth. There were so many things out in the universe that required his attention, certainly, but there was also–

“Oh! Admiral Shirogane! It’s so good to see you again! We should catch up, over dinner perhaps?”

–a person who never seemed to take a hint. It had been one point of contention during his brief marriage to Keith, in fact, particularly because Shiro hadn’t been quite firm enough in dissuading the advances at the time so as to avoid trouble within his crew aboard the Atlas.

Ironically, following the divorce, he’d been far clearer, not simply because he wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship – the man wasted not even a day before trying his luck, which was not particularly surprising since he’d lacked any regard for Shiro’s marriage –

but also because Shiro wasn’t interested in the man himself, either. Clearly, little had changed in the phoebs since Shiro had stepped foot on Earth, judging by the greeting he’d received from his former communications officer, and Shiro found himself frowning slightly.

“I’ll have to decline; my response hasn’t changed since the last time you asked.” He strode past before the man could attempt once again, making a mental note to himself to inquire if his itinerary had gotten leaked, as it appeared quite obvious the man had expected his arrival.

He pushed it from his mind after that, making his way toward his purpose on Earth: delivery of a commencement speech for the graduating cadets at the Garrison as a guest of honor, a request he’d accepted with some initial hesitance out of concern for the optics of the situation.

The speech itself went smoothly enough; he certainly had plenty of public speaking experience between his time as the face of the Garrison’s outreach program to the efforts building the Coalition to his role as the preeminent leader heading into the final battles.

In the aftermath, after the expected crowding and requests for photographs, Shiro’s thoughts drifted again to how the particulars of his arrival may have ended up in the hands of someone without his approval. He’d worked out his plans rather specifically to avoid attention.

He’d even selected a point of arrival that was rather out of the way while also selecting a ship that was rather nondescript, rather than redirect the Atlas to Earth for his appearance. So it begged the question of how, since he’d tried to stay below the radar until the ceremony.

The thought fresh in his mind, he sent a message off to Veronica to have the matter looked into. It was only as he was about to lock the screen again that he noticed an urgent message awaiting his attention, received shortly after his speech had begun. Strange, he thought.

Stranger still was once he recognized who had sent the message in the first place: his lawyer from when he and Keith had divorced. The message itself was simple, a request for Shiro to contact him regarding an outstanding situation. Gray eyes narrowed at the implication.

It was something that had largely been curtailed, but it wasn’t unheard of for the unscrupulous to dig through past clients to try to extract higher fees. Shiro had half a mind to disregard the message… but a part of him was curious, and another wanted to stop the scheme cold.

What he got when contacting was a lawyer who sounded quite… perplexed, Shiro thought, or perhaps even almost embarrassed as the man inquired if Shiro had the time to come to his office. “This is something that needs to be settled, Admiral, but it might be best in person.”

He wasn’t sure why he agreed, but Shiro found himself heading to the lawyer’s office, anyway, delaying his departure along the way. When he arrived, the lawyer definitely looked embarrassed, Shiro decided, but he couldn’t quite place a finger on why. Not immediately, anyway.

It became apparent, however, when the lawyer explained. He apologized, saying he’d tried to get in touch before and that he should have noticed immediately, although Shiro still wasn’t quite sure exactly what he meant. Not until he was shown a very familiar document, at least.

“I just needed to be certain,” the lawyer told him, explaining he understood if they’d changed their minds – that it wasn’t entirely unheard of to try to work things out after filing for the papers in the first place. But it was his duty, his job, to ensure was the case.

Shiro frowned at the document, at what it showed him. “No. No, we… it must have been an oversight.” It must have been, because he was certain, absolutely certain, that things hadn’t been left incomplete, and yet… “You’re telling me we’re still – I’m still–”

“Yes, Admiral.”

The entire thing left him with a lot to think about; truthfully, Shiro wasn’t fully aware of what happened after the information settled over him. He vaguely recalled his lawyer assuring he would handle getting everything settled, only to stop the man, insisting he’d handle it.

The very notion of it ran circles around his head as he returned to his ship, plotting his course back to the Atlas. How had both of them missed this? How had neither of them seen any messages inquiring about it? He frowned, his eyes tracking toward his – ringless – left hand.

He was halfway back when he opened a direct line to Veronica, not surprised in the slightest by the speed with which she responded. “Admiral. On your way, I see; is there a problem?”

He hesitated for a beat. “Not exactly.” There was a pause as he nearly stopped himself.

But it was something he needed to do, and for that, he required a certain amount of information. “I need the locations of the Blade of Marmora’s current aid and outreach operations by the time I return to the bridge.”

“That’s unusual.” She sounded intrigued by the request.

“I know.” His eyes fell to the device that now contained the damning document he’d received from his lawyer. “I know. But it’s important.” His eyes returned to the screen, where he saw Veronica assessing him skeptically before shaking her head exasperatedly.

“Consider it done.”

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It had taken very little time at all to determine his destination from the list of locations Veronica provided to him; there was no doubt in Shiro’s mind that a small planet rid particular hard by the war whose recovery had all but halted was the correct one.

More difficult had been formulating a reason for the GCAD-ATLAS to make the trip as well when the Blade of Marmora was already present and was more than equipped to handle distribution of much-needed supplies as well as providing support for rebuilding efforts.

The skepticism in Allura’s eyes hadn’t been lost on Shiro as he tried to explain himself; the Blade, he’d said, was certainly making headway, but it was also in their best interests to assist. If nothing else, their more direct backing would bolster the recovery exponentially.

“He won’t like it,” Allura warned him. From somewhere off-screen, he heard Lance’s flippant – though clearly joking – comment that “he” didn’t like anything, causing Allura to turn her gaze toward where Shiro could only assume he’d positioned himself as she admonished, “Lance…”

There was no hiding the humor on her visage, though; as much as they were all currently operating under their official capacity – despite what Shiro knew was a rather selfish and personal request, which he was increasingly certain had been seen through – they were among friends.

That alone meant Allura wasn’t as guarded as she would be otherwise. It also meant Shiro was fairly certain she already intended to green-light whatever reason he managed to come up with. It turned out, though, that he didn’t need to try quite so hard as Hunk covered for him.

Shiro once again found himself grateful for the man’s friendship as he discussed the logistics they would be able to provide as a means of assisting recovery, something that would help foster and sustain both trust and security among planets that were slower to recover.

When their miniature conference ended, he’d been about to turn away when he heard Pidge speak up, startling Shiro as he hadn’t realized anyone was still on the line. “You’re up to something. I don’t know what yet, but you’re up to something. And Allura’s right. He won’t like it.”

“Noted.” He didn’t miss the way Pidge looked him over, seemingly assessing him. He knew he was being rather transparent, but Pidge showed some degree of mercy as she shrugged.

“Well. Just be careful.” Before he could respond, the screen went dark as she cut the connection.

In the aftermath, as his crew made preparations that he simply needed to observe and sign off on – and that was its own form of irony, he thought to himself – he was largely left to his thoughts. Everyone around him had been kind enough not to press the issue, but…

But why had this one piece of information sent him into overdrive? Why had he felt the need to handle it immediately, to seek out the one person he hadn’t since their paths had diverged? Maybe it had been mutual, maybe they’d let go easily, but there was still bitterness there.

He couldn’t explain it, not even to himself. But the sense of urgency, this need to find where Keith was to settle things properly, was overpowering and Shiro was swept up by its tide. It didn’t strike him at all until after the Atlas had landed and he’d set foot on ground.

It struck him because somewhere in the time since they’d last seen each other, Keith had become somewhat more devastating, Shiro thought – or was it that time had dulled the memory for him? He couldn’t be sure, but there was certainly something to it, he thought.

There was something to it as Keith stood there, his features gentled by the work he was doing, by the soft smile and kindness in indigo eyes that had always been so infinitely expressive directed at those he was helping, the truth of his kind heart radiating from him.

He was a vision in shades of navy and purple, the uniform of a leader complementing him as well as Shiro recalled, with its crossing layers only serving to further accentuate a waist he’d held within his hands and legs he’d had wrapped around him more times than he could count.

And oh, Shiro thought as he watched a hand reach up for delicate fingers to tuck a strand of only black hair that he knew from experience was even softer than it looked behind the shell of an ear. Oh. He wasn’t prepared for this at all and maybe, maybe he was in over his head.

Still, he strode over as Keith gave orders to the Blade members surrounding him, directing the supply distribution even as he bent low for a child who had come up to him, a canister in one hand and his smile even kinder as the child accepted the offering of food from him.

He waited until Keith had righted himself again, until the child had scampered off happily, before announcing his presence. “Keith.” He could see the way the other man stiffened at hearing his voice, the way he movements paused even if he didn’t look up from his screen.

“Admiral Shirogane.” The tone was impersonal and almost dismissive. A moment passed, then another before he saw the smallest tell – a breath deeper than usual, released slowly as Keith returned to his work, tapping through what Shiro was sure was a list of supplies and personnel.

He waited, watching as Keith turned toward Zethrid to – presumably – relay a plan of distribution that she would be in charge of. When it appeared Keith would pay him no further heed, however, Shiro moved closer. “I need to talk to you.” Still, Keith didn’t look at him.

“In case you’ve missed it, I’m kind of busy here.” He stepped away to relay something to another Blade member, and Shiro was respectful enough to not attempt to eavesdrop on the particulars. He waited until the Blade stepped away to reach out a hand, grasping Keith’s wrist.

“It’s important,” he insisted, willing Keith to look at him, but to no avail; whatever urgency and magnetism Shiro seemed to feel since he’d been on Earth several quintants previously was strictly one-sided, not that he was entirely surprised by that, all things considered.

“This,” Keith emphasized as he tried to pull his arm free without too much effort behind the motion, clearly attempting to avoid a scene – something inside Shiro swelled at that, at the man Keith had become – before continuing in the same breath, “is important. You can wait.”

“You’re right,” Shiro conceded, even though he had little intention of waiting. He didn’t release Keith’s arm, however, instead reaching over with his right hand to pluck the pad from Keith’s left. He held it out to the side, just out of Keith’s reach for the moment.

It was more for show than anything, of course; he knew Keith could both easily retrieve the device and escape his grasp, which meant Keith was currently humoring him. It was risky, but Shiro decided to press the advantage afforded by that particular piece of knowledge.

“However, I’m certain Acxa,” he deposited the device into her hands as he said her name and resolutely ignoring the unimpressed glare she leveled upon him, “is more than capable of taking over for… fifteen doboshes while we talk.” The words softened the glare just slightly.

Keith grunted faintly in annoyance, trying again – yet still without the any real force or intent – to pull his arm free, looking up and over his shoulder to narrow his eyes at Shiro. “I said I’m busy, Admiral. You’re not my husband anymore, you don’t get to dictate my time.”

Shiro opened his mouth on an immediate retort, snapping it shut quickly to hold himself back. His jaw worked as he considered the best way to respond before going with an amiable, “Funny you should mention that.” Keith’s eyes narrowed again. “I really do need to talk to you.”

Keith stared at him for a few moments more before emitting a frustrated sigh and rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he conceded, pulling his arm free. “Acxa, handle things here while I speak with Admiral Shirogane, please?” Shiro could almost swear she looked bemused as she agreed.

Absently, Shiro’s right hand dropped to Keith’s hip, intending to guide him to a more secluded location nearby. They hadn’t even taken two steps before Keith turned his attention to it, eyes focused on where the prosthetic rested. “Your hand.” There was annoyance there.

“Oh. Right, sorry.” Shiro quickly remedied the situation, releasing Keith and drawing his hand back to himself. Indigo eyes tracked the movement, dark eyebrows knitting together as Keith frowned.

“You… your arm, you had it changed?” He sounded confused, perhaps even concerned.

Shiro blinked, following Keith’s gaze to his right side. “Oh. Yeah, I… I figured it was time. Move on from… well, you know.”

Keith wasn’t able to mask the worry in his eyes quickly enough even as he reached out to brush fingers over a metal bicep hidden by Shiro’s jacket.

He bit his lower lip, eyebrows still pinched close. “Is it… did it help?”

“So far.”

Keith released a breath at that, lips parting just slightly, and Shiro wondered if his lips had always been that distracting or if his mind was just playing tricks on him in light of things.

A moment later, Keith seemed to shake himself from his reverie, averting his gaze and straightening his spine. “Good. That’s… I mean, it’s good that it’s helping.”

“Thanks.” Truly, he meant it and Shiro hoped that was evident in his tone, even as he brushed it off.

“But I’m not here to talk about a new arm or to catch up about post-war healing, Keith.” He looked around them as they finally reached a secluded area, somewhere they could talk without anyone overhearing, at least for the time being.

“I gathered. So why are you here?”

Shiro let out a long sigh, glancing from one side to the other as he shifted his weight. “You’re not going to be happy.”

“That’s a given. Can we get on with this? Some of us have work to do, Admiral.”

Shiro opened his mouth, ready to retort, before closing it again.

He looked at Keith, gray eyes bearing into indigo, and he wet his lips as he decided it was best to just rip off the bandaid. “We’re… still married.”

Keith jolted for a moment, blinking twice before his eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Very funny.”

Shiro shook his head, reaching out with his left hand toward Keith’s shoulder. “It’s not a joke.”

Keith slapped his hand away, stepping back and shaking his head. “No. No. There was a document. We signed–”

Shiro pressed his lips together before he agreed, “There is a document.”

“And we signed–”

“There is a document,” Shiro repeated, shaking his head even as he continued to hold out his hand in offering. “We didn’t.”

“You didn’t,” Keith accused vehemently, shaking his head as he took another step back. There was fire in his eyes, a look of betrayal.

“No.” He was firm on this, taking a step to follow as he emphasized, “We didn’t. Look, I’m as surprised as anyone; I mean, with the amount of things I end up signing in a day, this one thing?” Keith’s eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t funny, Shiro,” he hissed out, turning away.

“Like I said, it’s not a joke.”

Mentally, he counted down from three, neither surprised nor disappointed when Keith whirled on him with one hand outstretched. “Fine. Then give me the damn document and we’ll fix it right now.”

Gray eyes caught on petal-soft lips as Keith spoke.

Logically, he knew Keith was right; all they had to do was sign and everything would be fixed. They’d continue on just as they had been since their not-quite divorce, everything finalized this time around. Except… except standing there, Shiro wasn’t sure that was best.

“We could do that,” Shiro began, the words causing Keith to relax slightly as it sounded like Shiro would do as he requested. However, he continued, hedging on the option. “But I’m not sure that we should, Keith.”

“Shiro, don’t do this.” Indigo eyes seemed to plead with him.

“Hear me out.” He held up his hands in surrender to placate Keith. “Look, maybe… there’s a reason this happened. A reason we didn’t sign those papers, even unintentionally.”

“Shiro, we both know that’s not true.” He couldn’t help but notice the resignation in Keith’s voice.

“Do we? Because I’m starting to think letting you go was the biggest mistake I’ve made in my life.”

A sharp, shocked intake of breath directly preceded Keith dropping his head down, hair falling like a curtain to cover his features. “You can’t say that. You can’t…”

His head snapped back up, anger burning in indigo eyes as he glared at Shiro. “You haven’t spoken to me, haven’t looked for me, in two years, and you’re going to try to say something like that now? You can’t… you don’t get to pretend like this is–”

“I messed up. We both did.”

“Don’t…”

“Maybe our mistake was giving up.” He reached out, grabbing Keith’s wrist and pulling him closer before the other man could react, his right hand quickly finding the small of Keith’s back. “Maybe what we need to fix is us. And maybe I never stopped loving you.”

The words left him before he knew he was saying them, before he knew he was thinking them, but once out in the open, he knew the truth of it. Keith’s eyes widened briefly, breath shuttering as he inhaled. He averted his gaze quickly, and Shiro didn’t try to stop him. “Shiro…”

“I never stopped loving you,” Shiro repeated, softer and more honest, no urgency behind the words as he poured himself into them. Keith shivered in his arms. “And you…?”

“Of course I didn’t…” There was no hesitation about it, and Shiro realized he wasn’t surprised.

Keith’s devotion, his love, had been enough to cross the universe and to pull him back from the edge of death, after all. And yet still the other man wouldn’t look at him; still, Keith shook his head. “We can’t. Shiro, we can’t. We already know how this ends.”

Those words said, Keith began to pull from his grasp and Shiro, struck by the mournfulness in the words as well as how small Keith seemed as he said them even as he worked to protect his heart, was too stunned to stop him at first. But as Keith nearly slipped away, he surged.

He pressed forward, drawing Keith in again and holding him close. He hid Keith’s shocked gasp against his shoulder, one hand cradling the back of the other man’s head as he vowed with more conviction than he’d ever felt, even in all his experiences, “I’m not giving up on us.”

Keith struggled against him, but Shiro held onto him tighter. “Listen to me. At least hear me out, and then… if you still feel it’s best, I won’t fight it. But Keith, why can’t we be together?”

“We tried.” The words were muffled against Shiro’s shoulder. “It didn’t line up.”

“Maybe it’s time you join me on the Atlas, then. There’s no work you’re doing that couldn’t be completed just as well from there. Hell, Keith, it’d probably be better!”

Two hands worked their way between them, palms settling on Shiro’s chest as Keith pushed himself away.

“In case you missed it,” he began, frost coating the words as he took the implication of Shiro’s words, “the Blade of Marmora is not part of the Galaxy Garrison.”

“Neither am I.” Shiro paused thoughtfully before adding, “Neither is the Atlas, for that matter.”

That took the wind out of Keith’s sails. He stopped short, no longer pushing away as he looked up at Shiro, confusion written on his face. “What?”

“You must have missed the memo. It happened after you left.” Shiro gestured vaguely with his free hand. “I’m not with the Garrison.”

“But you’re–”

“–Fleet Admiral of the Intergalactic Coalition,” Shiro provided. “The GCAD-ATLAS is our flagship, no longer tied to the Garrison. It was decided the Garrison would see to Earth’s defenses, but the universe needs a universal solution. And… that’s where I belong.”

Keith’s posture relaxed, if only by the slightest amount. Shiro took that ad a victory all the same. “Join me. Keith, bringing your relief efforts fully under the Coalition would let us help so many more, much more quickly. The Blade would remain, but it’d have more potential.”

Allura had never outright said it, but their… situation had really been the biggest obstacle to having the Blade of Marmora as the official aid outreach of the Coalition.

Keith eyed him skeptically, eyes narrowing as he considered. “When did you come up with all of this?”

“On the way. And maybe some of it after seeing you.”

“You’re flying by the seat of your pants.”

Shiro grinned at that, laughing softly as he pulled Keith closer. “When has that ever stopped us? Besides, we’ve both had plenty of success with improvising, don’t you think?”

“This is much bigger than–”

“So we try.” His fingers found Keith’s chin, tilting the smaller man’s face up toward his to look into his ryes. The words were spoken like a vow. “Try with me, Keith. Stay with me. And if it doesn’t work, then… you say the word. I’ll respect that.”

“Shiro…”

“I’m your husband.” He searched Keith’s eyes, looking for some sign one way or the other. “I’m your husband, Keith, and I’m asking you to try. I’m asking you to stay with me, because I love you more than all the universe.”

Keith seemed stunned briefly. “I love you.”

The admission was Shiro’s chance; he leaned in, brushing his lips against Keith’s in a kiss that, however soft it may have been, spoke of his regret and his sincerity, his love and his devotion. Keith melted into it, into him, and Shiro whispered against his lip, “Stay with me.”

Keith’s eyes searched his, looking for some kind of trick, some kind of lie, but there was none. Shiro did everything he could to convey that. Slowly, slowly, Keith reached up, his hands resting at either side of Shiro’s face as he kissed Shiro in return. “I’ll try.”

He pressed his lips to Keith’s again, unable to stop the grin that was forming or the laugh when Keith nipped at his lips just before he dropped one hand to jab the knuckle of his curled index finger against Shiro’s left pec. “But you’re the one explaining this to everyone.”

“If it means I get to stay with you?” Shiro asked playfully, his eyebrows raising with his grin even as Keith tried to stifle a laugh, an effort that proved futile when Shiro pulled him closer, his hands quickly finding Keith’s waist. He’d missed that sound. “Deal.”

Thank you for sticking through to the end with these two idiots. Comments, likes, and retweets are always loved ❤️, tips and prompts are always welcome if you’re so inclined as well. ❤️
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