Chapter Text
“How are we supposed to get this planet to help us if we can’t even find it?” Pidge says, voiced laced with frustration. She’s been using different methods of tracking for days now and is clearly annoyed with how none of them have been working.
“Yeah,” Hunk says. “Maybe… we should leave them alone? You know, if they don’t want to be found?”
“The planet is resource rich and their technologies would be an incredible addition to our cause.” Allura says. Again. “And we know they’re out there. I know they’d help us. We just need to make contact.” She’s tired too, and it comes out a little snappish. Shiro gets it, but he also can’t feel sorry that the others are giving her a hard time. This whole ordeal feels a lot like a wild goose chase.
“Okay, but their planet is basically the death star.” Lance sighs and crosses his arms. “It keeps moving . And it’s invisible!”
Allura purses her lips. “It’s not a star and the Rincts aren’t a violent people.”
Lance immediately backpedals and tries to explain. Hunk chimes in to help and Coran appears fascinated. Shiro listens absently as he continues to examine the data they’ve been gathering. Hunk is right, in Shiro’s opinion. The Rincts obviously don’t want to be found. If things are as Allura and Coran thinks they are, they’ve done a good job of staying under the radar and avoiding the war. Shiro doesn’t love the idea of trying to convince them they need to get involved.
But Allura is right too. They need all the help they can get. And if the Rincts are truly as capable as Coran insists, they really would be a huge asset. Especially considering their ability to make an entire planet disappear.
Keith is the only who hasn’t said anything, and hasn’t for quite a while now, and Shiro glances his way to check in. He finds Keith staring down at three datapads, frowning in concentration. Shiro watches as Keith worries at his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting his teeth catch as he taps at something on one screen before letting out a quiet sigh that Shiro can feel, even if he can’t hear it.
Keith glances up then, and he and Shiro lock eyes. Keith’s mouth quirks as he flicks a look at Pidge and Lance, who have started bickering over the practicality of a ship the size of a planet, and Shiro lets out a quiet huff of fond amusement.
But Shiro can also tell how worn Keith is by the slope of his shoulders, how he closes his eyes for just a beat too long before he opens them again to go back to poking at his screens. Of course, out of all of them, Keith would be the last one to complain or let his fatigue show.
Shiro interrupts as the death star conversation turns into discourse over what determines something being a planet.
“Look. We’ve been working on this for hours. We’ve made a little bit of headway today, but we’ll probably get more done once we’ve slept.” He glances at Allura. “Coming back to this with a clear head might help us approach things from another angle.” Even if he’s said something to the same affect for the past three days.
Allura sighs but nods. “It might. Very well. Let us take a break.”
Pidge and Hunk calibrate their sensors to work through the sleep cycle as Allura and Coran take their leave, heads together. Shiro bids everyone goodnight as they trickle out, then bends back over his datapads.
It’s late and Shiro is tired. His shoulder hurts and he’s got the beginnings of a headache, and he’s so fucking sick of looking at coordinates and patterns but he’s also in a rhythm and he’s close to something. He can feel it. Just a little longer. He may have been the one to suggest they all turn in, but Shiro just wants to finish what he’s doing.
There’s a clatter, and Shiro jerks up to find that everyone else did not, in fact, go to bed. Keith is still in the room, bent over to retrieve the datapad he’d dropped on the floor. “Sorry.” His voice is quiet. Drained.
“It’s okay.” Shiro eyes him. “What are you still doing up?”
There’s a stubborn set to Keith’s jaw when he answers, “working. Just like you are.”
Shiro glances down at the information he has spread in front of him, then back up at Keith. He’s fairly swaying where he sits, and Shiro watches Keith’s eyes slid shut and fingers go slack around the datapad before he shakes himself awake again. He blearily looks up at Shiro through his bangs, and Shiro can see the words I can keep going if you can keep going spinning tired circles.
Shiro gets to his feet. His work can wait a few more hours.
“Come on,” he says holding a hand out to Keith.
Keith blinks at Shiro’s hand for a moment too long, and god, he must be exhausted. Shiro berates himself as he pulls Keith to his feet, steadying him as he stumbles. How did he not realize that Keith was still here? He knew Keith was tired. How did Shiro manage to miss that Keith was forcing himself to stay up with him?
“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to the small of Keith’s back to lead him into the hall. “We’ve both been up too long.”
“Oh,” Keith says faintly, leaning into him. “Yeah, okay.”
They walk in silence toward Keith’s room. It allows Shiro to feel the warm press of Keith at his side, a comfort like it always is. It’s a comfort that he tries not to indulge in too often anymore, because touching Keith always leads to wanting to keep touching Keith. Shiro has so much blood on his hands now. He doesn’t want to leave red fingerprints.
When they reach Keith’s door, Shiro keys in the code, because he knows it and Keith is practically asleep where he stands. He guides Keith to the bed and gently pushes him to sit down. “Shoes off.”
Keith mumbles an assent and obediently does so, movements clumsy with how tired he is. He also struggles out of his belt and jacket at Shiro’s prompting, and when they’re off, he turns his face back up to Shiro, eyes glazed but seeking approval.
“There you go,” Shiro murmurs, allowing himself to brush Keith’s bangs out of his eyes. “Good job.” He sucks in a breath at Keith’s quiet, pleased little noise, eyes sliding shut as he seeks out Shiro’s metal palm. Only ever honest, and even more so now, open and unguarded from fatigue.
It gives Shiro pause, even among the pleasure, and maybe it’s because he’s tired too, but he lets his hand trail down, let his fingers curl around the back of Keith’s neck and slide through his hair. He watches entranced as Keith’s lips part, his eyes still closed, face open and soft and sweet and–
He makes himself pull away. As he does so, Keith makes a tiny, desperate sound and tries to chase his touch.
The sudden pounding of his heart is loud in his ears, but Shiro makes sure his voice is even and steady. “Alright, under the covers. You need your sleep.”
Keith goes easily, mumbling a good night, and Shiro gives into the urge to tuck him in before picking up the jacket, belt, and knife holster and putting them away. He even lines up Keith’s shoes. Making excuses to stay.
He can’t get that pained whimper out of his head.
When Shiro eventually forces himself to leave, his thoughts continue to turn over and over in his mind as he makes his way back to his own room. He knows that Keith is sensitive to touch. It’s something Shiro has always been aware of. Back when they first met, it wasn’t a good sensitivity. Keith flinched whenever someone raised a hand in his direction, and his whole body stiffened when someone reached for his shoulder or patted him on the back. It was slowly, so slowly that he thawed with Shiro.
Since then, he’s watched Keith get better at accepting touch from certain people he trusts, and it’s with no small amount of pride that Shiro is seeing Keith grow into someone who knows when to offer touch to others when needed. Hugs with Hunk, a fistbump with Pidge, the occasional high-five with Lance.
But as Shiro gets ready to turn in, thinking and thinking, he realizes... Keith still doesn't seek touch out for himself. Never for himself.
No. He wracks his brain and remembers that there have been a few times. When Shiro himself was hurt. Dying. When he came back. When Keith needed to feel Shiro was real. Keith clung on and apologized in the same breath, only falling silent when Shiro hushed him and clutched him just as tight.
But those were exceptions. Keith continues to holds himself apart. He goes where he's invited. He doesn't ask. He’s even tentative with Shiro now. Hesitant, as if uncertain that he’s welcome.
Shiro sits down on bunk and stares down at his hands. It’s true that Shiro used to be freer with his touches. He was open and welcoming and ready to encourage, and even if he was more careful with Keith, making sure not to overstep or overwhelm, he never used to hold himself apart from anyone. But now that Shiro has done so much, survived so much, he can’t help but keep his distance from others. He grits his teeth and bears it when he has to socialize, but he’s hypersensitive to potential threats and weapons, locating escape routes in his head, and sizing people up as they shake his hand. His body is both too big and too small, and after nothing but pain and then nothing but nothing, sometimes even a handshake feels like more than he can bear.
Never with Keith though. Keith is grounding. He’s all Shiro ever wants, among the buzz of all the other noise. Shiro wants nothing more than to gather Keith up and bury his face in Keith’s neck. That’s exactly why Shiro has tried to keep a little distance.
But Keith soaks up affection like he’s parched for it, he always has, even as he goes through life never expecting, never demanding. And it’s not just touch--that additional thought comes to Shiro unbidden. He seeks kindness. He orbits around it like a moth to flame, but doesn’t reach out as if scared of being burned.
Keith’s always reacted to kindness with surprise. Sometimes even suspicion. But when he warmed up to Shiro, the surprise got colored with pleasure. Especially when receiving praise. It was like his whole body lit up with it, and he would look almost shy for a few shocked moments before he brushed it off or came up with a cocky reply.
Shiro has spent so long caught up in single-minded survival, holding himself apart because he doesn’t deserve anything more than that, not after everything he’s done... he just now realizes, with dawning horror, that he hasn’t seen that shy, pleased little smile in a while.
He’s been denying Keith that. Denying him something that he clearly needs and has been missing.
Shiro grits his teeth. Keith is so good. Keith is so good, in so many ways, and he deserves to be appreciated and praised and held when he wants to be. And Shiro knows Keith trusts him implicitly. Keith trusts so few, but he trusts Shiro. The knowledge burns sometimes, that Shiro is in such a position to hurt him. Because he has hurt Keith, and could do so again so easily.
Like right now.
Keith, who works so hard, who has had to fight for everything he has, has always believed in Shiro. And Shiro has been leaving Keith to chase after the tiniest scraps of affection because Keith doesn’t feel comfortable asking for what he needs. Even tonight, Keith only let his guard down enough to show how much he was hurting because he was exhausted. He was hiding his pain from Shiro. Someone he trusts.
Shiro’s furious with himself. What else hasn’t he noticed, too caught up in his own guilt?
His head pounds, reminding him that he needs sleep, so he curls up on his bunk to the unbidden memory of Keith, face soft and relaxed, nuzzling into the palm of Shiro’s hand. Shiro wants that. Wants Keith to get what he needs. Maybe it’s partially his own selfishness, that he revels in the idea that he could be the one to give that to him.
Shiro would do anything to make Keith happy. To do what’s best for him.
Thoughts go hazy as he drifts. He could make it a goal. He’s always liked those. Goals give him something to work towards. Not having one has left him adrift. Since Keberos his only goal has been to survive, but he hates that goal as much as he clings to it. Survival isn’t a purpose. It isn’t a future. It doesn’t help him with what comes next.
But Keith has said that he would never give up on Shiro. That he would save him as many times as it takes.
A future with Keith in it, working to make sure Keith is safe and comfortable and cared for...
That’s a good goal to have.
Even just thinking it makes something settle within him. This is a purpose. A worthy, important purpose that’s past just surviving. Give Keith what he deserves.
The thought spreads through him warm and slow. He likes it. This is something Shiro can maybe do. It’s something he wants to do. And he likes that it’s multi-faceted. There are layers to Keith, so there are layers to what would make him happy and be good for him.
Shiro is tired though, and that requires more thought that he’s up to right now.
But god, it gives him something to look forward to. He’s already smiling a little at the thought of waking up again.
***
He only wakes up twice during the night, which is pretty good for him. When it’s a reasonable time to get up, he does his exercises, then showers and dresses. A simple routine, and one that changes sometimes as he varies his exercises, but he concentrates on every motion. He’s able to control his routine. Having control is important.
Once he’s dressed though, his brain turns back on, going through the list of things he needs to do. There’s the general mundane of basic living, like the fact that he needs to eat breakfast. There’s the task of the day, which is continuing to work on the Rinct project. And, for the first time since he was put in the arena, his to-do list includes something that isn’t just “survive and make it to tomorrow.” Underlined and highlighted is pay attention to Keith. The ultimate goal is take care of Keith and make him happy but that’s something that will take time to achieve and then will require continued upkeep. He can’t wait to get started.
He finds himself humming as he walks to the kitchens, feeling lighter than he has in a long time. Even though his other goal is “saving the universe,” it hasn’t been enough. Despite intending to do everything he can to accomplish it, it’s so open-ended and vast it’s almost not a goal at all. Just a way of being. With no light at the end, and nothing for him after, whether or not they win or lose the war. Keith is so much more real. Real and warm and alive, and so incredibly special.
The kitchens are empty when he gets there, which is pretty typical. They try to have communal lunches and dinners, but breakfast routines have gotten a little loser. Everyone takes their rest where they can get it. Shiro just isn’t able to sleep for long stretches of time anymore, and staying still in bed makes him antsy. Even though some of the others are early risers, he’s usually alone for a while before someone else wanders in.
He likes it though. Likes the hum of the ship and the noise he makes as he puts a plate together. Having the freedom to take what food he wants, and to take enough of it, and not having to look over his shoulder. Shuffling through the various ingredients that they’ve collected as they travel, the interesting cups and plates they’ve bought as things catch their eye--it gives him solitude without making him feel alone.
Shiro sits down with his plate and waits a moment before he takes a bite. Another routine. He had had to reteach himself to eat slowly, after his captivity, and it’s a personal victory that he is able to take his time again. A reminder of his autonomy. He is able to make his own choices, even within the requirements of everyday necessity.
He starts to eat, thoughts turning back to the task at hand.
The important thing with goals, Shiro knows, is that in order to reach them, you need to divide and conquer. Break the big one up into more bite-sized, achievable pieces. In order to be a pilot, you need to physically fit. Physical fitness requires an exercise program. An exercise programs requires you to know how bodies work and to know how your own body works. Then, once you have your exercises, you do them. One by one by one.
So. How would he best take care of Keith? What are those steps?
Obviously the first step, the one that is most crucial, is to ignore his own guilt and stop being a self-sacrificing idiot. It isn’t that Shiro needs to be smarter or faster or stronger (though he has to be, he always has to be--)
For Keith, Shiro needs to be present. Leaving Keith is what hurt him most. Continuing to neglect him is… the thought is acrid. So he’ll be better.
For Keith, he can be better.
He wants to do what’s best for Keith, and it looks like right now, only Shiro can give him what he needs. Taking care of Keith properly then, would look a little like this:
- Do what is best for Keith. This includes ensuring his health, comfort, and safety.
- Make Keith happy
- Shiro already knows Keith responds well to praise and touch.
And then, of note:
- Attempting to sacrifice himself or keep his distance does not actually fulfill rule #1, because it conflicts with rule #2
That’s a good start. Good general subsets of what he’s setting out to do.
Shiro taps his fork against his lips. Everything else will come as he learns.
He’s good at paying attention when it matters.