Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Krolia set course to Earth to locate the Blue lion, she never expected to meet a man so noble and brave on such a little planet. Neither did she plan to mate with him. Let alone have a kit with him.

A kit she just met and dearly loved.

But whatever ubiquitous dream she desired to live was cut short.

Krolia ran to her ship, trucks parked at the front of their shack. Other humans took her mate into one of those trucks and all the scenes in which little Keith would grow up with his father disappeared.

When she reached her ship, she knew the humans would be close, ready to shoot and take both of them.

She couldn’t let them take her son. Not her little Keith. Not her starlight.

Her ship, ready to take off, sheltered them from the attacks. As soon as Krolia was out of the planet, she allowed herself to breathe. To mourn. To fight again.

Once planet Earth was but a dot in the dark canvas of space, Zarkon’s forces rained on her. She could put a front and evade fighters, shoot a few of them. But none of that would be enough to save her or her kit.

With one look at her crying kit, Krolia bit her lip and took a decision.

Letting the ship fly on its own, she rushed to get Keith in her only pod. Placing her knife wrapped up to avoid hurting the squirming kit, and a simple message on a memory card:

Take care of Keith.

One last look and a gentle touch on that black mop of hair were all she did before she sent the pod deep into space and straight to the only place, she knew her kit would be safe.

Meanwhile, she did everything she could to distract the fighters from pursuing the pod. She took them straight to the most ominous image. She braced herself.

✧✧✧

The kit inside the pod cried non-stop. He wailed and squirmed in his solace, unaware of the speed he was traveling. The soft violet glow of his mother’s blade bathed the inside of the pod, never leaving the kit in darkness.

Dried tear tracks and hunger consumed his small existence. Soiled and uncomfortable, Keith could only call for help, loud and unabashed. But no one came.

Much like his mother, the kit didn’t stop calling through desperate sobs until a crackling voice came from the pod.

“Identify yourself.”

Upon receiving no answer, something glowed inside the pod, stronger than the violet light. Keith saw something there and he extended his arms toward the image with big salty tears, caressing the sides of his flushed face.

“—!! A kit!?”

“What do you mean a kit?”

“It could be a trap.”

“I doubt it…”

“Get the kit immediately.”

Keith’s first demand was met in a matter of minutes: to be held. Alongside his mother’s wishes.

The Blade of Marmora’s headquarters was not a facility in which kits could be found. There were but a few dozen of blades, all adults who never stayed in the base for too long. Even the leader, Kolivan, went on missions, leaving the base void of any members for long periods. Now, the new acquisition changed everything.

The first doboshes of his arrival sent the headquarters into a hazard. Keith would not stop crying.

None of them were equipped or knowledgeable about kits, let alone kits from another race. The blades were unsure of how to proceed. Feeding and changing the kit was paramount even when Keith refused to be put on one of the beds. The poor thing craved a contact that was alien to them. However, Keith was not denied comfort.

At a slow pace, the kit calmed down, finding the soft glow of their attire and the lights that kept the base illuminated entertaining.

Kolivan was the main caretaker of Keith, the leader of the blades took it upon himself to see the kit grow well after Krolia’s sacrifice. He sent Thace and Antok for supplies and appointed Ulaz as the medic for the growing kit.

The first movement was harsh for everyone in the base. Keith would not stop crying unless he was held or his mother’s blade was close to him. Ulaz theorized that the kit had formed an attachment to the blade during the solitary trip. It couldn’t be helped.

The kit couldn’t be with them at all times, therefore, to optimize the chances of their mission and keep the kit alive, Kolivan chose to give one of the empty quarters near his to Keith. The stationed blades lent a hand to transform the space into a safe one for Keith. Consisting of a small bed and a place to hang Krolia’s blade.

Keith could stay in there unsupervised for a varga.

Indirectly, the arrival of the kit brought a sense of community to the organization. A sense of belonging, they hadn’t felt for deca-phoebs. Keith’s existence gave the blades something else to look up to after every mission. Wanting to return to see how Keith was faring, see the kit’s gummy smile, and entertain his grubby chubby hands, was a welcomed delight and an adorable start for conversations.

Oh. But there was another detail.

Keith was so much softer. Easy to bruise. Simple to kill.

It brought a flourish of problems, and plenty of visits to Ulaz whenever the blades pressed a little harsher, held him tighter, or on the odd occasion, broke the kit’s fall by catching him. Every touch had to be moderated. Not all the blades could interact with the kit anymore, and the ones that could, showed a great bout of self-restraint and patience.

But they managed.

They confronted the first aches of teeth with munching toys. Keith’s first steps with a leash—after the scare of seeing him run toward Antok’s tail. Keith’s first words left Kolivan speechless after Keith had called him dad with an enthusiasm they couldn’t understand.

Regardless of the hiccups, Keith grew with Kolivan as a father and the blade hanging in his quarters as his mother.

✧✧✧

Keith’s training began when he was four.

He couldn’t spar with anyone there, but he would follow basic forms with his face all scrunched up to practice his menacing façade. In this, the blades that couldn’t handle Keith when he was a baby, reached to him to impart knowledge during a fight.

At five, Keith got to have his first spar against Antok’s tail. The blades played along by making it official. They reunited to see Keith fight and fit him into one of the blade uniforms they had been working on just for the kit. It was barren of the holographic capabilities to display one’s deepest fears and hopes. Keith didn’t need to face the mental test yet.

The fight was long. Keith showed no interest in giving up. He pursued his spar partner endlessly, catching him a few times before he was shaken off.

Kolivan saw talent and a fatal flaw that could bring their kit down.

Keith didn’t win that encounter, and although he was swallowing angry tears, he thanked Antok for the spar, admitting he was not ready.

Kolivan didn’t know he could be proud of such a great gesture coming from such a small creature.

The first time Keith went out of control occurred when Ulaz had to leave for Thaldycon. Keith had screamed his lungs out, he had kicked and flailed his little arms around trying to break free from Regris. All to reach Ulaz. To stop his departure. Before that, they had never seen Keith’s Galra heritage present. Nevertheless, on that one chance, they saw his claws retracting, his eyes yellowing, and his fangs poking his lower lip.

Keith was so lost in his distress that he hadn’t realized the damage he was doing to himself.

Ulaz left, but not before he examined Keith prior to leaving. Keith calmed down immensely, and he was flabbergasted by the change that will make him look like the other blades.

When Keith hit six, Kolivan began to assign him missions within the base. Keith passed messages to fellow blades, called them to meetings, and tried to sneak behind Vrek and Regris or tail them for as long as he could without being caught. That was Keith’s playtime, and each time the blades would allow Keith to follow them longer than the time before, the kit would explode in a fit of giggles.

Then, Fayr didn’t return from a mission.

Kolivan knew Keith was emotional, more from his Terran side than his Galran one. But he didn’t expect Keith to drop everything he was doing just to sit down and cry after hearing the news. The action shook the blades at the base, they didn’t know how to interact with Keith anymore. Instead, they let him be. Observed him from afar.

Every blade knew there was a chance of never returning. Sacrifice was a must for their cause. It was inevitable.

Knowledge or death.

But Keith was not a blade in that matter. He hadn’t been instructed toward their goal. As Kolivan saw it, Keith didn’t lose a soldier, he lost an uncle; as Keith called him. They had no blood connection as many of the blades, and yet, Keith mourned for vargas. That was an attitude the blades could not fully comprehend. After all, the best course of action after a fallen member was to do their best to accomplish their goal.

From then on, Keith began to train more and more, to the point he could be found in the training grounds at all times. Kolivan couldn’t put a stop to that behavior. As a substitute, he opted to begin his blade training.

Thace left to infiltrate the Galra Empire and Keith wept less than before. Promising Thace they would see each other again.

Kolivan saw Keith grow stronger, dexterous with his mother’s blade. He grew smarter and faster.

That’s why at twelve, Kolivan asked Keith to try activating Krolia’s blade. The blades’ leader had not considered that Keith would do so in less than a phoeb. Ultimately, all it provoked was Keith’s early enlistment in the organization.

Seeing Keith, a kit, fight hopes and fears shaped like Ulaz, Thace, Antok, and himself was grueling. Bearing witness to the desolating memories of Keith traveling in the pod, made Kolivan’s face twitch.

He would be lying if he said he was unaffected by Keith’s trial.

Keith passed, yielding and advancing where he could. Reminding himself time and time again that he was doing the trials, that the faces of his uncles and father were just holograms.

Antok visibly relaxed when Keith emerged victorious.

Keith was the youngest blade Kolivan had ever worked with. That, paired with the fact that Keith continued to call Kolivan “dad”, put extra pressure on Kolivan to act as both: the leader of the blades and Keith’s father.

Following that fine line, Kolivan sent Keith on his first mission after a deca-phoeb of rigorous training. Accompanied by Antok and Regris, Keith had to secure the location of a stolen Galra ship with resources, and transport them back to the base.

It was simple, had no confrontation, and Keith could try his hand at piloting.

Keith was as talented in that area as he was in hand-to-hand combat.

Then Krolia contacted them. Nothing but a brief call that was cut short due to her job. But the information, although incomplete, was enough to envision a future problem if it wasn’t taken care of. A new Galra weapon. Kolivan insisted on a more thorough investigation and Krolia agreed.

But for those meager doboshes, Keith could see his mother.

The amalgam of emotions that caved in his eyes didn’t surprise Kolivan. The serenity that followed it… was unexpected.

For five deca-phoebes, Keith worked as a blade. He was sent to recover information, steal cargo, and tail certain Galra commanders. And in all of them, he behaved like a true blade. There were moments here and there that suggested Keith took initiative in plenty of those missions. It brought a flick of exasperated pride to Kolivan’s ears.

With such a record, Kolivan opted to include Keith in one of his missions: to secure the Red Lion from the Galra Empire. They had been receiving intel about the whereabouts of the Red Lion for two deca-phoebes. This meant the extraction of the Lion had to be well-planned and with little to no space for failure.

Kolivan had been training the extraction team to succeed. And yet, none of that prepared them for the real operation, especially on how it would turn out.

They infiltrated the Galra cruiser as a team of five and only four blades returned to the ship.

No sight of Keith.

No sight of the Red Lion.

Chapter Text

Keith had never seen another earthling before. But then again, he had never seen an alive Altean. And neither were welcoming. However, according to the not-so-dead princess, they couldn’t kick him out.

All thanks to the Red Lion locking Keith inside the particle barrier when the majority of the votes went to the let-him-go pile.

Two hands remained down. One from the older Altean and the other from the odd earthling, the one with the Galra arm.

At first, everything felt too hostile.

Sharp tongues spouted blue venom, taunting him, provoking a violent—Galran—response to every phrase. Taut and barely hanging on, Keith fought against Lance’s childish desire to perturb him, by focusing on keeping his human form in check. Keith didn’t have to ask if his appearance was the beacon of false freedom he got from the Paladins of Voltron and the Alteans. He knew it was.

So, he held on. He fought alongside them. He trained over and over again. He wore himself thin. And yet, Keith persevered. Knowledge or death.

After facing another skirmish with the Galra Empire. After being scolded for being too risky with his tactics. After being reminded he was the odd one out of the team, Keith considered contacting the blades.

The brief bout of weakness was brought down to its knees when he changed the direction from his quarters to the training deck.

As soon as the door closed behind his back, he felt a loud POP in his ears and Keith let himself go. A sigh of pure relief slipped through his lips as his body changed into his Galran features. His teeth added a comfortable weight to his mouth, his sharp claws proportioned him with a dexterity he lacked when they were slim and blunt. His eyes yellowed, purple iris turning into slits focused to grasp movement in the dark. And lastly his ears, with a peach fuzz of hair that elongated them and heightened his sense.

If anyone were to ask, Keith would happily say that was his favorite change. It made him look just like the other blades, just like his dad, just like his mom.

“Uh? Are you doing all right?”

Opening his eyes in a tick, Keith’s ears went back and down his skull as he withheld the need to snarl.

The leader of the Paladins slowly put his hands down. “Do you need me to leave or…?”

What was going on? Why was that earthling, that human not rearing up to take Keith out? With his face all scrunched up, Keith’s shoulders fell back onto a normal position while he continued to dissect the human in front of him.

“Why are you not attacking, Shirogane?”

“Why would I attack you? We are teammates.” He said matter of fact. “And you don’t have to call me that, Shiro is just fine.”

That again.

Another cumbersome action that deviated him from the ‘team’. While the rest of the Paladins referred to their leader as Shiro, which was a shortened version of his last name—humans having last names was something unbelievable—Keith called him by his title.

Shiro didn’t like that.

Keith tried using his name. Takashi.

Shiro didn’t respond any differently to that.

Then, Keith attempted variations of his title with his name, until he managed to see a different, more positive reaction when he used his last name.

But it seemed that was not good enough either. How was the leader of Voltron going to lead without letting others use the proper title to speak with him? Antok instructed him heavily in the matters of positions within the Empire, its meanings, and what their titles represented in the eyes of others. The blades were similar in that aspect to the military ranks. Therefore, Keith expected the same to happen within Voltron.

But it didn’t. Not quite as Keith knew.

That’s why he relented with a stiff nod.

Shiro gave him a little smile and rubbed the back of his neck, “does that happen often? I’ve never seen you…like that before.” His eyes skimmed through Keith’s changed features.

“No, it doesn’t.” Keith unstuck his back from the door and moved toward the training deck. As he was warming up, he felt the burning sensation of an unmoving gaze. Raising his head he confronted silver eyes, “what?”

Shiro’s face changed color, it turned to a bizarre pink on his nose and cheeks, “nothing.”

But before Keith could go back to his warm-up, Shiro spoke up again.

“I saw your records. They are pretty impressive, although I shouldn’t be surprised…” His words seemed to stall, and Keith opted to wait, knowledge first. “Anyway, since you are already here, do you want to spar?”

The question didn’t register as fast as it should. Keith blinked two times before he continued to move, “are you sure?”

“Yes. I would like the challenge.”

A spark. Or perhaps a burn. Keith couldn’t place what it was, and yet he felt it igniting his limbs. His eyes turned into violet slits as his canines showed through his smirk.

“Let’s see how much you can take, old timer.”

“Old timer—!? Where did you hear that!?” Aghast, Shiro lost the battle against an embarrassed laugh.

Shiro lasted longer than Keith thought, and each time they re-started their spar, those ticks grew in number.

That one chance he was given, was all it took for Keith to not leave with the Red Lion.

Shortly after that, another paladin decided to talk with him. Hunk, and it was mostly about meals in space.

One spar session turned into two, then three, transforming into a calming pattern Keith looked forward to. Every pull and shove was expected. Every sweep and lock terraformed into the next steps, and without notice, it blossomed into a dance.

Even after they started to gain spectators after the group’s training, Keith lost himself in the pure adrenaline of a good spar. The kind of spar he would only see within the blade’s training grounds, where most of their bonding occurred through healthy confrontations.

Keith avoided ruminating about the meaning behind it. About the bond. But sometimes it was impossible.

Then his axis flipped over and the soreness of a collision extended all over his back. Dark greys bored into him, keeping Keith down with the cheekiness of Shiro’s grin.

“Yield?”

Shiro’s warm breath prickled Keith’s skin. The strange spark returned and he instinctively brought a hand to rub between his chest.

“I yield…”

✧✧✧

With the hostility among their ranks diminishing, the encounters with the Galra empire went from chaotic to mildly entertaining. A sense of unity encompassed the Paladins, a sense dissimilar to what Keith was used to feeling back at home. Obtrusive, perhaps. However, Keith took his part as a paladin with the same respect he took his blade work.

One of the first failures came upon Keith when he crashed with Shiro on a nearly dead moon, sent by Zarkon’s witch. Shiro was hurt, Keith could hear it through the comms, in his wavering breath and fearful tenor sewn between his words.

Keith rushed, leaving his lion behind, unresponsive. And by the time he arrived, something exploded deep within his soul, like a link.

Shiro ran for his life, bracing to get another chance at life.

Then the Black Lion came.

Staying close, they waited for help. The silence grew loud until Shiro spewed those words.

“If anything happens to me, I want you to lead them, Keith.”

It was the cruel finality of his hopeful wish that forced Keith to bristle, bare his fangs at him, and yank him forward, “don’t say that!”

Shiro gave him a pained loop-sided smile, “I know you’ll do good.”

Keith retrieved his hands as if he was burned, a layer of his skin evaporated leaving the raw wound open, easy to hurt. Why would Shiro say that in their dire situation? Why couldn’t he inform the rest of the Paladins of his plans? Especially when they both knew none of them would accept Keith as a replacement!

Nailing his tremulous sight onto Shiro’s wound, Keith sunk his claws into his palms letting his blood drip between his knitted fingers.

“Stop it.”

Shiro wasn’t wrong…

The memory of Fayr and Illun’s farewell—before they saw each other alive for the last time— played in his head.

Not a single sign of their lions powering up, or a rescuing attempt from the Paladins gave them any hope of getting out of that moon alive.

Although the topic of hope wasn’t a stranger to any of them, it was difficult to look at its face when there was nothing to look at on the other side. That was the correct time to offer peace of mind within the chaos.

“…We will get out of this together, Shiro.”

Keith inched closer to Shiro, standing on his knees. Closing up the bare space between them, he gently held Shiro’s face with both hands, trying his hardest not to crush, or hurt him. Shiro’s breath hitched while Keith pressed his forehead against Shiro’s. Sticky and salty from all the action, Keith began to nuzzle him, giving him little head bumps.

The change was immediate.

Keith could hear it in Shiro’s heart. That rapid song was almost always present when they spend time together. His tune slowed down but beat the loudest Keith had ever heard. Shiro’s hands went up to his face, resting over Keith’s palms.

“…Keith?”

“Mm?”

His dark grey eyes spoke in unknown tongues to Keith. Holding an entire system, he couldn’t decipher. Then, all of a sudden Shiro tilted his head and moved closer, warm breaths mingled with one another, to the point their mouths brushed.

An electric current ran from Keith’s lips to the rest of his body, and a loud noise dragged his gaze away into the sky.

A rescue.

Two quintants later, Shiro called Keith after a briefing with the rest of the team. He walked him to his quarters and waited for Keith to walk in before the door closed. Finally, the fixed position of Shiro’s shoulders broke. A sigh escaped Shiro and then he sat on the bed, inviting Keith to do the same.

The bed sunk just the right amount under their weight. Keith wondered if now would be the right time for the team to know about the Blades of Marmora.

…

Yeah, right.

What was he thinking? The Paladins were amicable at most with him being half-Galra. Even if the Blade’s help, intel, and numbers might be of help in joining the coalition, Keith doubted the Paladins would extend their… hospitality to Keith’s family. Let alone, the representatives of the coalition.

They were fighting for the same hopes and dreams, the same goal, and yet, most of them would refuse to put their judgment aside.

But then he sought Shiro’s eyes…

Maybe, if he started with Shiro, then it wouldn’t go so bad, right?

“Keith. About what happened back there on that moon… I—” the crimson blooms decorated Shiro’s neck, advancing to his cheeks and nose. One of his hands reached for Keith’s one and held it in place.

Keith’s inquisitive eye gauged Shiro’s odd behavior and labeled it as convoluted and unknown.

“I don’t want you to think I came onto you just because of the setting. Well—the setting did help, but—”

“Shiro, you were not ‘coming onto me’ as you said.”

For a tick, Keith thought he had to apologize for touching Shiro as he did without prompting. However, he had seen the rest of the Paladins interact with each other and all of them were quite tactile. A hand on a shoulder, an odd hit at an arm, hugs, and many others Keith had a bit of a hard time understanding. The salute was one of the hardest. Keith could not comprehend why humans had different ways of doing it when they lived on the same planet. Ridiculous!

“That—are you sure?” Shiro’s comfortable weight inched closer to him, uncertainty sowed in his countenance. Until Keith responded with a firm nod.

Then, Keith’s heart rattled between his ribcage, begging for an escape as Shiro brought his Galran arm up close to his face, cupping it in his cold palm.

Keith experienced it all in slow motion.

Every breath he took seemed to last longer than a dobosh, the silent creak and rustle of the bedding rumbled in his ears, and the pressure of skin against his lips stunted him. A fluttering sigh left his soul and Shiro’s mouth sought Keith’s again.

Keith seized Shiro, dragging him down by his shirt as he drank Shiro’s joy with needy growls.

✧✧✧

“Absolutely not! I would never let a Galra in the castle!” Allura crossed her arms, squinting her eyes at Keith. “You are the exception!”

Pidge chimed in as well, not as passionate as the princess, “yeah, I don’t know about that Shiro.”

“We don’t let Galras in, we shoot them. That’s what we’ve been doing since the start!” Lance added, leaning against his chair.

Shiro sighed, long and drawn out. The bridge drowned in heavy silence. “If all Galrans were inherently evil, then why would one of them help me escape to alert Earth about the Empire?” Then he glanced at Keith, who had perked up at his statement. “And what about Keith? He is half-galra and a Paladin too.”

“But that’s different! The Red Lion chose him!” Allura explained.

“And The Black Lion chose Zarkon.”

Allura huffed and eyed the both of them, “do what you will, but don’t expect me to like it.”

The conversation died with a blast, leaving a tangy taste stuck to Keith’s mouth. He had changed in the middle of that and plenty of eyes were regarding him wearily. And yet, what grasped his attention was a brief mention of a savior.

Keith managed to advance three steps when Pidge showed them the coordinates that were in Shiro’s Galran arm.

Keith’s yellowed eyes widened.

It was the Thaldycon base… It was “Ulaz…”

His mindless mutter didn’t go undetected, but before he could be interrogated, the alarms deafened them as they chimed due to an intruder.

The battle was short-lived because when Ulaz recognized Keith’s moves he forego his mask and brought Keith close to observe him. Keith’s eyes prickled, as he let himself relish in their meeting.

Finally.

Home.

✧✧✧

The wide berth the rest of the team gave Keith shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

But he withheld information, something the Paladins could’ve used during trying times. Where their survival was below average, and their hopes crumbled under great pressure. Times in which they honored their bond as Paladins with the taste of one last battle that kept being pushed back.

It was a normal response, Keith reminded himself, after a year of non-stop battles and close calls… It was normal.

Besides, whatever cumbersome emotion Keith was entertaining at the moment lacked importance in front of the possibility they might be joining forces with the Blades of Marmora.

If only Allura could try to look less indisposed with the idea.

Maybe, it was his fault.

“Keith lied to us! By omission!” The princess raised her hands in frustration, “I should’ve known better! We all saw him in Red’s cockpit wearing the blade’s uniform!”

“It was suspicious, but we are in space so…” Pidge dragged on the last bit of her sentence.

“Guys, what if we try?” Hunk said as he twirled the ends of his top between his fingers; a nervous tick, “So far, Keith hasn’t shown any ill-intent toward us. And if there is a full organization of Galras that are not actively trying to kill us… I mean, it’s an idea…”

Shiro, who hasn’t said a single thing since Ulaz broke into the Castle, spoke up, “Hunk’s right. I think we should at least consider the implications of joining forces.”

“Are you asking us to trust them? I gave Keith the benefit of the doubt and he failed. What makes you think I will be trusting others just like him!”

“Your judgment clouds you, Princess Allura.” Ulaz’s poised tone ceased the fire in the conversation, claiming everyone’s gazes and sending them into introspection.

“Well, let it be known that I don’t trust you, or Keith for that matter.” Allura huffed getting right into Ulaz’s space, not a single strand of hair out of place.

Even Lance looked at the Princess as a stranger. That ought to count as something, right?

With Allura out of the bridge, the rest of the team turned to the next objective: reach the Blade of Marmora.

With their course set, the rest of the team returned to their prior activities and before Keith could go apologize to the Princess, Ulaz stopped him.

“Kit, come here.”

Doboshes without contact didn’t take Ulaz’s gentleness away. The way he used to calm Keith down when he was younger bubbled up at the front of his lobe as he let Ulaz take care of him. His hands touched the side of his face, lightly pressing his closed eyelids with the pads of his fingers. Traveling back to his cheeks and rubbing them with his palms before he went up to his ears. Keith made a noise akin to a purr and—

“Wait, aren’t you and Shiro a thing?” Lance inquired.

Keith scrunched up his face, “a thing?”

“Yeah, aren’t you, his boyfriend?”

What a strange word, Keith thought.

His frown grew severe as he quickly responded, “no. We are not boyfriends.”

Hunk, Pidge, Lance, and Coran all glanced with worry at Shiro. Keith inevitably did the same.

Shiro’s crestfallen face confused Keith, but it did not deter him from continuing his bonding time with Ulaz.

Later on, that same day, when Keith went to kiss Shiro, he pulled back from Keith, leaving without an explanation.

During the rest of their trip to the Blade’s headquarters, Shiro busied himself by trying to bond with his lion. And every time Keith approached him, he got nothing but excuses. Excuses that were believable and reasonable. Keith couldn’t force himself into Shiro’s life and expect him to drop everything for affectionate whims. However, after the third time hearing Shiro says he was busy, Keith considered catching him on his way back to the quarters.

But then, he stalled.

What if those weren’t excuses and he was too tired? Keith would despise being the cause of Shiro’s lack of performance as he bonded with the Black Lion.

Above everything else, he prioritized the path to winning the war. And if his emotions impeded reaching that goal then it wouldn’t be worth it.

…

‘Knowledge or death’, Keith reminded himself, as he took his Paladin armor off.

Later on, when Shiro returned to the bridge shortly after his tenth attempt with Black, claiming the bond with Zarkon was severed… that was when Keith knew his decision was worth it.

Whether he liked it or not was an entirely different topic.

✧✧✧

Seeing the ominous and dangerous entrance to the base—to his home—brought an adrenaline shot rush through his system, a giddiness that coiled at the bottom of his stomach. His claws showed and retracted as a little game to keep himself in place as the Castle of Lions traversed through the limited and timed path.

While the rest of the Paladins hoovered together at the entrance like a little cluster, Keith walked up front, right next to Ulaz as they passed through the main hallway filled with soft violet hues. The robust hum of energy prickled at Keith’s ears as he fought the whim of using his claws to follow the walls that would guide them to Kolivan’s office.

They passed the training grounds to the left, the kitchen to the right, and the trapdoors he used to hide to catch Regris and Antok.

The doors at the end of the hall opened with a silent whistle and Keith zeroed in on his dad. Two files of fully-armed and geared blades flanked their sides, putting the rest of the Paladins on edge. The princess whose visage held a cold and uninterested front stepped forward to introduce herself and the Paladins of Voltron.

Kolivan who had returned the gesture took a tick or two to take his mask off and direct his gaze at Keith.

That was all the push Keith needed to discard his helmet and walk up to him. Raising to the tip of his toes Keith wrapped his arms around Kolivan to nuzzle him. The scents of his home hit Keith the hardest when Kolivan nuzzled him back, a deep rumble encouraged Keith to purr as well.

One by one, the present blades eased and in the same orderly fashion, they welcomed Keith back.

A deca-pheob...

“You took too long kit,” Antok commented as he brushed his front pieces of hair back.

He really did.

“You could’ve contacted us earlier, kit,” Kolivan mentioned, chiding him a little.

Keith shrugged, still drunk on comfort, “it turned out well, I’ve got the Red Lion.”

Kolivan smiled at Keith, small and private, “well done.”

Keith seemed to light up at his words as the little engine in his thorax reeved up for another flight.

“Oookay. I didn’t know Keith could be so… affectionate.” Lance’s hushed voice said as he got side-eyed by two other Paladins. His eyes widened and he got louder, “what!? It’s true! I’ve only seen him like that with Shiro once!”

Pidge sighed and rolled her eyes, while Hunk tried to smile with his heart lodged in his throat. Allura was not amused.

“He is my dad,” Keith informed them.

A gawking silence reigned for a tick before the Paladins roared with a flourish of questions. Keith ignored all of them, too focused on Shiro’s response. Quivering under his skin as he begged to avoid witnessing another estranging factor.

Shiro’s greys drifted between Kolivan and Keith until it zeroed onto Ulaz. Then his cheeks spattered with crimson and his gaze returned to Keith’s form.

After the unusual string of events, Kolivan sent Ulaz to rest. He assigned Illun to show the Paladins their base and Keith stayed behind to inform him of everything that had occurred since they separated.

Keith had missed his home.

His quarters were right as he left them that day. His collection of odd-shaped debris from other blades missions was all resting on a wall with a mounted shelf unit, leaving plenty of empty spaces to fill in with future adventures. Keith already had a small piece of a Galra cruiser and a moon rock to add on.

He raised his sight to his bed, right at the empty spot where his mother’s blade should be. His claws gently grasped the hilt of it. He will hang it once everything was done.

With a small yet fulfilling wish, Keith left his quarters to return to the Castle of Lions. The faint idea of looking for Shiro stroke his mind, but he quickly squashed it down—Oh quiznack!

“Ah! Sorry, I thought… Are you okay?”

Shiro’s voice captured his attention and Keith recovered his stance from ‘that’ corner collision. He did dislike that corner specifically. Keith had to run to Ulaz too many times because he crashed on it or stumbled around the corner as he did right now! The only salvageable occurrence was seeing Shiro on the other end.

“Yes.” Keith waited for a dobosh for Shiro to speak, and when he didn’t, Keith rose to the chance. “What are you doing here?” Which was a mystery in and of itself. Unless Shiro got lost?

The carmine on Shiro’s face saluted him without fault. “I wanted to talk with you. Ulaz told me where to find you,” he added.

Keith’s ears perked up, “follow me.” Turning on his feet, Keith retraced his steps back to his quarters, trusting Shiro to follow.

Much like Shiro did for Keith, Keith invited Shiro to take a seat on his bed.

“You really grew up here… out in space.” Shiro’s breathy tone sent sparks of life under Keith’s skin.

“Yes,” he managed to say as thousands of questions assaulted Keith’s mind, wanting to dwell on the topic so he could hear more of that same tone. Instead, Keith steered the conversation back to its original course. “What did you want to talk about?” If Keith were to have a tail, it would be moving and twitching non-stop from the eagerness.

Shiro’s squared shoulders went rigid and he looked at Keith, battling with himself to stitch the words together, “there is a lot I would like to talk about, but first I need to apologize.” Brushing his short mop of hair back, Shiro’s body went taut, “I acted like a fool around you.” He sighed, “For a leader, I didn’t do a good job by forgetting that you are half-galra. I was measuring us… our closeness within human parameters not—well, galran ones.”

Keith, who had so many questions regarding Shiro’s odd reactions to the truth, finally reached for the missing pieces during those occasions. Oh, well. Keith wasn’t that far behind considering he never asked or explained his side of things.

“The boyo-friend thing?” Keith muttered.

Shiro smiled, “yes, the boyfriend thing.”

“What does it mean? Is it the same as a mate?”

“A mate?”

Keith flushed with a purplish tint on his skin, “Galra have one mate they honor and respect. They form families, live together, those sort of things…”

With every word, Shiro seemed to grow even redder, reaching his ears. “Then yes, it is like a mate.”

Keith saw Shiro fighting to say something before he slouched forward, body propelled up by his arms on his knees, “God, and I thought you and Ulaz were together or had something… how stupid.” Shiro giggled at his own words.

“Something? Like what? Mates?” Keith scrunched up his face and crossed his arms, drops of disgust bleeding through his lips, “Ulaz has known me since I arrived in a pod! He is one of my uncles, Shiro.”

Then, Shiro laughed, and loud.

Keith failed to see the joke, but he let Shiro enjoy the hidden mirth, all for the view. It reminded him of the different grins he used to gift Keith during their sparring sessions, or the silent exchange of secretive smiles when they passed the halls or glanced at each other on the bridge.

“Are we human boyfriends now?” Keith asked.

Shiro’s stifled the last bits of his laugh and nodded, “yes, we are human boyfriends. And mates too.”

Keith seized Shiro planting a desperate kiss on his mouth before he changed his position to nuzzle him. He hadn’t done it in a long time.

“What’s with all the nuzzling? It surprised me the first time you did it.”

Keith stopped his ministrations to look into Shiro’s eyes as he held his face in place, nose touching. “It is a sign of care and love. It’s done among families, and it is meant for comfort.”

Shiro smiled squinting his eyes in the process as he reached for the tails of Keith’s braid, gently tugging at it. “I see… In that case, baby. We use different titles to call our mates as a sign of endearment.”

Keith’s pupils widened, “I want to know more.”

“In that case… After we defeat Zarkon, I would like to take you back to Earth with me.”

Earth…

The place where his mom picked a mate.

The place that saw his birth.

An unknown place. An adventure.

Keith couldn’t contain the adrenaline-infused sea poisoning his blood, sending the screaming signals of more, more, and more!

Whatever face Keith was making brought Shiro’s lips back onto his in a tick.

“It’s a promise then,” Shiro whispered against the wet skin of Keith’s mouth. Even if Keith wanted to seal their promise properly, Shiro stole the fuel for his words alongside his thoughts with a breathless kiss.

Keith’s inquiries about Earth might have to wait.