Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Each footstep sounds like a gunshot.

The rough, worn stone of the ruins grinds beneath Fatewalker’s boots with every step, each one louder than the last when surrounded by the eerie, quiet nature of the derelict mountain-side village he had been ordered to explore. When push comes to shove, the Coalition sends out scavengers like him to do the not-so-clean work of, essentially, robbing corpses.

Not directly, of course—they’re not monsters and they know how to respect the dead—but their houses? Places of business? Government buildings? Military or religious establishments? If it’s abandoned, accessible, and abundant, it sounds like a job for Fatewalker—hence the codename. Walking amongst the fates of others... it’s all he ever does. It’s difficult, and not for the faint of heart, but someone’s gotta do it.

Speaking of his difficult job, he perks up at the sound of scuffling, almost like someone’s moving without trying to get caught, and he knows deep down that this can only end in a fight. He unsheathes his scythe from where it stays strapped to his chest, and snaps the blade into place with a practiced flick of his wrist, simultaneously extending its handle, the collapsible hilt shooting out faster than the eye can process visual input. The offender, the source of the scuffling, whoever it may be, must see this display of confident prowess, as they leap out from the cover of the nearby dying shrubbery right in front of Fatewalker, blocking his path and poised to strike.

Yet, strangely enough, they’re unarmed.

Rookie mistake. Fatewalker just smirks to himself behind his mask, and takes the first swing.

His opponent doesn’t just jump to avoid the scythe, oh no no no , they jump to use it as a launch pad , hopping right off the blade to tackle Fatewalker to the ground, subsequently knocking the scythe out of his hands in the process. Quickly, before he can be contained, Fatewalker tucks his legs up underneath his opponent and pushes them off with a strong shove of his boots against their chest. They land with a pained grunt, clearly having the wind knocked out of them, and in their daze, Fatewalker hurriedly returns to his feet and collects his weapon. Before his opponent manages to stand, he strides over to them, collapsed on the ground, and slams the blade of his scythe into a crack in the stone directly over their right shoulder, successfully trapping them between a rock and a hard place—quite literally, to Fatewalker’s amusement.

“Now where’re you gonna go, huh?” He teases, a smarmy grin behind his mask. “Don’t worry, I know,” He starts, feigning reassurance. “I’ll take your little happy ass home with me back to headquarters. They’ll get you settled in nice and cozy in a cell all to yourself.”

The opponent huffs. “And people in Hell want ice water,” They retort, before suddenly planting their hands back on the ground beneath them, and with strength and speed that Fatewalker hadn’t yet bore witness to, pushes themself off of the ground and shoves the hilt of the scythe backwards with their feet, sending Fatewalker flying over their shoulder, landing roughly on his side before rolling across the broken landscape.

He groans, dizzy and lightheaded, as stars float behind his eyelids. God, he’s getting too old for this shit. He rubs his forehead, sore from impact, before realizing that his mask is missing. Figuring that it was knocked off amidst the kerfuffle, he takes a deep breath and slowly gets to his feet, opening his eyes to search his surroundings.

He hears the unsheathing of a blade from behind him, and he turns his head ever so slightly to look over his shoulder.

The opponent freezes, and drops his weapon.

Fatewalker furrows his brows and squints at the masked figure. “What? I know I’m ugly, but I didn’t think it was that bad,” He quips, and crouches down to yank his scythe out of the ground. “Or, maybe it’s just been a while since you’ve last seen a human?” He asks, now prepared to clean up their scrap.

Instead, the opponent hastily pulls back their hood, as if they can’t remove it fast enough, and their mask dematerializes within a fraction of a second.

“Yes,” he answers, tears in his eyes, now face-to-face with Fatewalker.

They make eye contact, nostalgic purple irises against his own hazel ones, and then Fatewalker recognizes him.

He gasps and drops his scythe, quickly striding closer to the kid—no, man, he thought he’d have a snowball’s chance in Hell of ever seeing again.

He lets him run into his arms, returning his hug with one equally as tight.

“Adam,” Keith says, gasping through tears into the older man’s shoulder. 

“Keith,” Adam replies, cradling the younger’s head in his hand as tears of his own trail down his face.

The two of them stand there for a couple moments, swaying in each other’s embrace, not needing to say anything at all. Yet, after a minute or two, words are inevitably spoken.

“I missed you,” Keith says, and he sounds so vulnerable and broken that Adam’s harshly reminded of how young he really is. Only around 24 years old, Adam guesses, and yet he’s had to save the entirety of existence as we know it. Adam hugs him tighter.

“I missed you too,” Adam replies. “Every day. I never forgot about you,” he says, hoping he can still be the rock he once was in Keith’s life.

Keith chuckles a little bit. “Same here,” he says, and rubs at his eyes.

Adam pulls back out of the embrace, his hands still on Keith’s shoulders, and leans back a bit to look at him. “Oh, good lord, you’ve gotten all old on me,” he teases, earning a laugh that sounds like sunshine paired with a punch to the shoulder from Keith.

“Like you’ve got room to talk, you fuckin’ chainsmoking cryptkeeper,” Keith teases back, and Adam fakes a dramatic gasp, feigning shock, complete with a hand clutching his imaginary pearls.

“I’ll have you know, I am in my flirty-thirties, okay? How old are you anyways, Miss Thing?” Adam counters, his hands now on his hips.

“I’m damn near 26, thank you very much. Calm down, you diva.” Keith ends his reply with a playful shove at Adam, before his face softens into a more serious expression. “What happened to you?” He asks, his voice quieter. “Everybody thought you were dead.”

Adam sighs, and drops his hands to fidget with them. “It’s a long story–” he risks a glance up to meet Keith’s eyes– “but I’ll give you the gist of it for the sake of brevity.”

Keith nods. “Alright. Shoot.”

After a deep breath, Adam starts at the beginning. “Before Commander Holt was revealed to be alive and back on Earth, I heard rumors that the Kerberos crew was alive as well, but I never let myself indulge in any of it. I waited until I got proof. And that proof–” he reaches into one of the pouches strapped to his torso– “came in the form of this USB drive, tucked away in an unmarked envelope in my mailbox one morning.”

Keith stares at the little obsolete piece of tech. “Inconspicuous. No one would suspect classified information to be stored on that, ” he observes.

“Exactly,” Adam confirms. “Pair that with the fact that it came in a blank envelope, well... I was convinced enough to expect something top-secret from it, so I plugged it into my laptop and opened the video file. What I didn’t expect, though,” Adam sighs, “was to see you and Shiro sitting next to each other and saying hello to me specifically.” 

At that, Keith perks up a bit. “Our message,” he says. “You got it.”

Adam nods. “And I watched every second of it. When it ended, I knew, in that moment, that everything was okay. You two would come home and be safe again... of course, hindsight is 20/20, and things turned out a little more… sour than anticipated.”

Keith huffs. “You could say that.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, pocketing the USB drive. “When Sendak arrived, my fleet was the first to attack, and... nothing we did worked. I’m the only survivor—I managed to move quickly enough to avoid a direct hit, but I still crashed and lost contact with the Garrison.”

“We were told that you presumably died on impact,” Keith says. “There was no way the Garrison would be able to send out any rescue or recovery parties without Sendak impeding progress.”

Adam nods. “I understand. I wouldn’t have been able to return anyway—I’m never going to know how long I was unconscious for, but I came to because of... this,” he says, and pulls up his right pant leg to reveal a cybernetic prosthesis, very clearly one made by Galran hands.

“Woah,” Keith says, his eyes wide. “That from the wreck?”

“Yep,” Adam confirms, pulling his pant leg back down. “I managed to tie a tourniquet before it could get any worse, but I couldn’t fight back when Sendak’s goons got a hold of me. They took me as their prisoner, threw me into a cell, amputated what was left of my leg without anesthesia, cauterized the wound, and then just… left me to rot. Initially, they just wanted to kill me, but Sendak told them to put a prosthesis on me and put me in the camps—by that point, it was too late, and when Sendak was killed, his goons took me into space with them and locked me away on some moon. Thankfully, for me, Matt Holt was nearby,” Adam smiles.

Keith nods knowingly. “I bet he bailed you out, yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Came in guns blazing and walked out with me at his side,” Adam says. “He– he told me... everything. About Voltron, about the Alteans and Honerva, about you and Takashi.” Adam’s demeanor shifts at the mention of his ex.

“I... chose not to go back home.”

“What?” Keith furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

Adam sighs. “Because everybody already moved on. I did, too. I know how conflicting it feels to find out that the love of your life is alive after years of thinking him to be dead—I don't want Takashi to feel like that now that he’s with someone else.”

Keith crosses his arms. “As if you know how he feels.”

“I– I don’t, but– look, I might not be improving anything, but at least I’m not making it worse,” Adam says, in defense.

“How sure are you of that?” Keith asks. “Do you know how heartbroken he was to find out that you had most likely died? Once the grief finally hit him, he was inconsolable,” Keith begins, gesticulating annoyedly. “I was the one who had to clean up the house and pack away all of your shit just to convince him to at least think about going back home. And when he finally did, he unpacked everything. He put your clothes in his drawers, your books on his shelves, your trophies and medals and awards on display. How do you think he feels?” Keith’s gaze is hard, pointed and sharp, unforgiving. Adam doesn’t answer.

“He still has that damn upright in the dining room, and he still makes chamomile tea every morning with breakfast. How do you think he feels with pictures of you on his walls? Your favorite songs playing from his phone, your recipes in his kitchen?” Keith presses further, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

“How do you think he feels trying to put you back in his life when you’re not actually there with him?!”

Adam can only look at Keith in shock, tears streaming down his face. “I...” he doesn’t even know where to begin—just a handful of minutes ago, he was convinced that Takashi had, most likely, forgotten about him.

“He still... remembers me?”

Keith sighs, his expression softening but not wavering in strength. “Yes,” he answers. “He still remembers you, and Curtis doesn’t stop him. God knows how much trauma Shiro’s gone through ever since he left for Kerberos, but Curtis understands, at the very least, how to make him feel better, even just a little bit... and that means keeping parts of you in their home,” Keith says, a small bit of compassion bleeding into his words.

Keith moves forward and puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You’re a part of my life too, y’know.”

Adam risks looking up to meet Keith’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he says, barely a whisper.

“I know.” Keith nods, before suddenly being scooped up into another hug.

“I should’ve said something, fuck!” Adam sobs. He’s bleeding with guilt.

Keith knows he was the one who cut too deep. “It’s a part of the past now. All you can do is make the future better.”

“Yeah,” Adam nods. “Let’s do that.”

Keith smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

Together, the pair collect their weapons and make the walk back to the Marmoran spacecraft, where a makeshift camp is set up, with Blades and citizens gathered together all in a single spot. Keith leads Adam inside the ship and onto the main deck, away from any prying eyes or ears (looking at you, Ezor).

“Alright—do you want to film a message for him first? I can write a script, if you want. I had the best grades in Language Arts, if you forgot,” Keith quips, sending Adam a wink that makes the older man laugh.

Adam simply waves a hand. “I got this, don’t worry. I’ve thrown around the loose outline of a script ever since I knew there was a chance of seeing Takashi again.”

Keith shrugs. “Alright. The floor is yours,” he says, and taps the console a few times to bring up a recording menu. Adam can see himself in frame, and he swallows nervously.

“Um,” Adam starts. How eloquent. “Hi, Takashi.” Now that’s more better.

“I’m... so sorry,” he begins. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have abandoned you. I know what you’re thinking, and, no... this isn’t fake,” Adam says, trying his best to channel as much sincerity into his expression as possible.

“I’ve been alive for the past 5 years.” Adam represses a sigh. “When my jet was hit, I crashed, and I was knocked unconscious. I have... no idea how long I was out for, but it was long enough for me to be taken prisoner by anti-coalition Galran operatives.” Adam pauses, and swallows thickly.

“They put me through similar, if not, the same torture that you did. The only difference was that I had already lost a limb—my right leg—before I was captured.” Adam can feel himself start to shake at the rush of memories from his days in isolation. “They used me like a... a fucking guinea pig. They experimented and tested on me with no care for my safety or wellbeing.”

A smile begins to grow on his face. “I thank God every day for Matt Holt. He not only rescued me and put my abusers behind bars, but also let me join the Coalition and work alongside him.”

“He... he told me everything. About Voltron, about the Galra, about New Altea... about you. About your marriage.” Choose these next few words carefully, Adam . “Curtis sounds like a great guy, honestly. If it’s not me, I’m glad it’s him. Congratulations to both of you.”

Adam steels himself. “I know you’re wondering why I never came back. I’ll be honest– I was afraid. I didn’t want to make you have to live with the turmoil of discovering that the love of your life is alive after thinking him to be dead the entire time... I know what that’s like.” Now, time for the bombshell. “It’s how I felt when I first watched your video message, and when Matt rescued me. I felt so conflicted and... traumatized over my own words and actions from before the mission that I just... I couldn't bring myself to open the wound again. You moved on. I moved on. It should have stayed that way, in my eyes.”

Adam cracks a bittersweet smile. “But nothing lasts forever, does it?”

“You beautiful man. Beautiful, ridiculous man. I never doubted you. I know I said I did, but deep down, I couldn’t ever bring myself to do so. I had planted my feet in the ground and called it courage instead of fear.  And yet… hope is a strong thing. God, hope is so strong.”

It’s a shot in the dark, but…

“I love you.”

Adam fidgets with the ring on the chain around his neck.

“Hope to see you again.”

A stunned Keith returns to the console to stop recording, his mouth open in shock. “I... didn’t expect you to say that,” he says.

Adam flushes. “Yeah, well, I didn’t either, but here we are,” he replies, scratching his head.

Keith just snickers. “If that’s what you want him to see, I can certainly get it to him,” he offers.

Adam pauses. “Hang on a moment,” he starts, walking toward the console. He takes out the USB he showed to Keith earlier, and sticks a very homemade looking adapter on the end of it. After digging around in one of his many pouches, he sources a Galran plug end and attaches it to the adapter, before plugging his new creation into the console of the Marmoran ship. He converts the video file, something that Keith has been dying to learn how to do for years now, what the hell, and transfers the video data over to the USB.

“Give him this,” Adam says, unplugging the USB from the console and detaching the adapter from its end before handing it to Keith, who look at it for a moment.

Keith looks back up to Adam. “Consider it done,” He says, and pulls up a comms link on the console. “Zethrid?”

“Commander. Have you found any more survivors?”

Keith smirks and looks at Adam with a side-eye. “Yeah. Someone I used to know.”

“…Oh. Do they need medical care? I’ll be landing in a few doboshes with another shipment of supplies.”

“He’s fine, Z, he’s with the Rebels. All I need you to do is oversee the Blades for the next…” Keith checks a calendar on his gauntlet’s holoscreen. “…four quintants? I should be back by then, but better to be safe than sorry.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Earth,” Keith says, a smile on his face. “I’m playing messenger with my friend here.”

“I see. Travel safe, sir.”

“Thanks, Z.” Keith ends the call.

An apprehensive Adam knocks one of his knuckles against Keith’s shoulder to get his attention. When he earns it, he takes off the chain around his neck, and slides off the ring hanging from it. “You should give him this, too,” Adam says, handing over the ring.

Keith recognizes it.

“What do you think?” Shiro asks, holding the ring box open over Keith’s shoulder.

Keith’s heart leaps in his chest, and he gasps. “Holy shit!” he exclaims, smiling.

“Hey, language!” Shiro teases his little brother, smiling equally as wide.

“Your engagement ring,” Keith says, a little stunned.

“I managed to keep it with me this whole time,” Adam explains. “I think it should be somewhere safer, though,” he says, as he puts the chain back on.

Keith nods. “Agreed.”

With that, Adam shares a hug with Keith one last time, before they eventually part ways, where Adam watches Keith’s solo cruiser rise into the sky and take off.

Chapter Text

Knock-knock.

Shiro perks up at the sound, moving his focus from work to his front door. Didn’t Curtis take his keys with him?  Shiro just sighs and gets up to let him inside anyway.

Curtis is not at the door. Instead, it’s Keith.

“Speedy delivery,” Keith says, a content smile on his face as he holds up the USB.

Shiro’s eyes practically pop out of his head. “Keith?!” Shiro starts, suddenly hugging his little brother. “What are you doing back on Earth?”

Keith laughs. “I got a message for you,” He says, backing out of the embrace. His face turns a little more serious, though, immediately emulated by Shiro. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

Shiro understands, of course, and guides Keith over to the dining room table. “What is it?”

Keith steels himself. “I’ll need your computer.”

“Alright,” Shiro says, passing over his laptop. “Just don’t touch my browser history.”

Keith gags exaggeratedly. “Not even with a 10-foot pole. ” Shiro just laughs.

Once Keith opens the video file, he sits the laptop down on the table and holds Shiro’s living hand tightly. “You’ll need it,” Keith tells him.

Shiro warily presses play.

It’s a video of... Adam?!

“Um. Hi, Takashi.”

Adam’s hair is so much longer, he’s got a new pair of glasses, he’s wearing rebel gear, and– wait a minute, is that a fucking scythe strapped onto his chest?! What the hell is happening.

“I’m... so sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have abandoned you.”

This isn’t real. This is fake.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no... this isn’t fake.”

Oh, quiznak.

“Woah, woah , look at me, Takashi, don’t pass out on me,” Keith tugs on Shiro’s ear to bring him back to reality. Shiro quickly glances at him and gives him a nod.

Shiro listens intently to what Adam has to say, trying not to think too hard about Adam’s reveal that he’s been alive this whole time. A chill goes up Shiro’s spine when Adam mentions that he was taken prisoner. Shiro just squeezes Keith’s hand, earning a consoling squeeze back.

When Adam starts talking about his time in Galran hands, Shiro represses shivers at the vivid flashbacks of his own time as a prisoner, and an uncomfortable kind of dread settles deep in his stomach when Adam reveals that he too went through the same treatment. “Oh, god,” Shiro says under his breath, closing his eyes tightly.

At the mention of Matt Holt, though, Shiro’s interest is piqued, and he cracks open an eye to see a small smile on Adam’s face as he talks about his rescue.

“He... he told me everything.”

It dawns on Shiro that “everything” really means everything. Adam knows about Curtis. Shiro feels a sense of shame within himself, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He’s always been able to rationalize everything, but this emotion doesn’t have anywhere to go.

“Curtis sounds like a great guy, honestly. If it’s not me, I’m glad it’s him.”

Oh. No hard feelings, then. Shiro chuckles to himself at how good Adam is at giving grace to those who need it. He hasn’t changed much, has he?

Adam starts explaining why he decided to stay undercover with the Rebels, and even through the grief, Shiro understands. “I felt so conflicted and... traumatized over my own words and actions from before the mission that I just... I couldn't bring myself to open the wound again. You moved on. I moved on. It should have stayed that way, in my eyes.”

Shiro nods, as if Adam himself is there with him.

 “But nothing lasts forever, does it?”

Shiro cracks a bittersweet smile. No, no it doesn’t.

“I never doubted you. I know I said I did, but deep down, I couldn’t ever bring myself to do so. I had planted my feet in the ground and called it courage instead of fear.  And yet… hope is a strong thing. God, hope is so strong.”

Considering that Adam’s alive after five years of Shiro hoping that he is, well... Shiro has to agree.

“I love you.”

Adam pauses, and fidgets with something on a chain around his neck.

“Hope to see you again.”

The video ends.

Shiro turns his head and looks at Keith, who’s smiling in the most genuine way Shiro’s probably ever seen. “There’s one more thing he wanted you to have,” Keith says, and he pulls off his left glove to take a ring off of one of his fingers and give it to Shiro.

It’s Adam’s ring. Red and green moss agate set into a gold band that looks like a planet with moons in orbit. Adam’s favorite planet was Pluto; Shiro partly agreed to the Kerberos mission just for that reason.

Shiro gingerly flips it around in his fingers, analyzing it intently. “Thank you,” he tells Keith.

“You’re welcome,” Keith replies, before suddenly being swept into a tight hug.

Shiro can’t help it—he cries.

Neither of the brothers are sure of how long they hold each other, but eventually, Curtis returns, he and Shiro’s border collie Matcha at his side, wagging her tail happily.

“Keith? What’s—” Curtis cuts off upon noticing Adam’s face on Shiro’s computer. This can’t be good.

Shiro pulls away from Keith when he heard Curtis speak. “Um, he’s– he’s alive,” Shiro says, wiping tears from his face.

Curtis lets out a long exhale. “Okay,” he starts, unleashing Matcha, “I take it Keith gave you a message from him?”

Shiro nods. At that, Curtis sends a look toward Keith, who doesn’t need to be told to give the husbands some privacy. Keith quietly steps outside, back onto the front porch.

He thinks for a moment. Ever since Shiro came back home, ever since he unpacked Adam’s belongings and put them back up in his house, and ever since Curtis moved in, neither of them have ever thought anything strange of their decor. Shiro hasn’t taken down or removed anything, nor has Curtis ever told him to. It’s like Shiro’s been knowingly pretending that Adam was always with him, but now that Adam’s revealed himself to be alive, Shiro’s shocked that he was, in a way, right the whole time.

Soon enough, the house’s entrance opens, and there stands Curtis. “We’ve come to a consensus,” he starts. “Takashi and I want you to bring Adam home.”

Keith peers over Curtis’ shoulder to look at his older brother. Shiro gives him a silent “go on, then,” to which Keith can only smile.

“Sure thing,” He says.

Chapter Text

“What’s he gonna think? What’ll he say? What’ll I say? Will he... kiss me, or something? Oh, god, I didn’t brush my teeth yet, please God don’t let him kiss me–”

Keith claps a hand over Adam’s mouth. “Can I just say, from the bottom of my heart—shut the fuck up.”

Adam nods. “Sorry,” he apologizes after Keith removes his hand. “I’m just—fuck, I’m nervous,” he admits. “I haven’t seen him in five years. At all.”

“I haven’t seen him in two, but trust me,” Keith says, splitting Adam’s fringe in accordance to where his hair parts, “seasons change, but people don’t.” Keith finishes with a sweep of his hot comb through Adam’s hair to stop it from reverting to its usual mussed-up state.

“Yeah, and you’re proof, seeing as you just quoted Fall Out Boy in front of me, you fucking emo.”

Keith pulls the hot comb away. “I have a four-hundred degree metal stick with spokes on it in my hand. Fuck. Off.” Adam just laughs obnoxiously.

Keith huffs amusedly and unplugs the hot comb. “Go get dressed, I left clothes for you out on the bed,” he instructs, earning a satirical “Yes, sir,” and salute from the older man. Adam wanders out of the bathroom and into Keith’s bedroom, seeing the aforementioned clothing on the bed. A navy button up and a black pair of slacks with short zippers at the end for a bit of edge. Adam dresses himself fairly quickly and puts on the pair of low-rise Converse (borrowed from Keith, for the time being), desperately trying not to think too hard about reuniting with his... ex? Adam just shakes his head and sighs.

“Ready?” Keith asks from the doorway, swinging his carabiner full of keys around one of his fingers.

Adam laughs, a bit hollowly. “Not at all,” he answers.

Keith smiles. “Perfect,” he says.

After a ride to the Garrison on Keith’s motorbike (the hoverbike needed some repairs), Adam finds himself drowning in the nostalgia of the General Transportation hangar. Some things are different—that one light in the corner doesn’t flicker anymore, and the lunchpail thrown onto one of the rafters is gone. But some things haven’t. The people mill around as if this is a common room instead of a military hangar, regardless of whether they’re human or not.

One of these humans, though, is one of Adam’s past students; Hunk Garrett.

“Hey, Hunk!” Keith calls out once he kills the bike’s motor.

Hunk turns to look at the direction of where his name was called, and his face lights up. “Hey, Keith!”

Keith and Adam stand from the bike, and once Keith gets the bike onto its kickstand, he jogs toward Hunk, who meets him in a big, tight hug.

“Aw, man, I missed you!” Hunk says, swaying side to side with Keith in his arms. “What’s got you back on Earth?”

Keith carefully pulls himself out of the hug, and throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Take a looksie for yourselfsie.”

Adam, in response, removes his helmet, revealing his identity with a grin.

At this, Hunk gasps. “Profe?! You–but we thought—”

Adam raises a hand to stop Hunk from rambling. “I know, and it’s nice to see you, but I’ll explain once everyone arrives.”

Hunk nods, understanding, and he takes a step back to keep himself in the background of the conversation. And, speaking of arrivals...

If the hangar entrance doors could dramatically woosh open, they probably would have. Behind them stood the two local royals, king and queen of Altea—Lance and Allura. Upon locating Keith, Lance strides on into the hangar, unsure of if he’s seeing things right. “Keith?”

Keith, hearing his own name, turns his head to see who called for him, and is pleasantly shocked to see Lance steadily approaching him. Keith lights up at the sight of his once right-hand man. “Lance!”

Now that he’s gotten confirmation, a smile erupts onto Lance’s face, and the young king starts running up to Keith, arms outstretched for a hug. “Dude!”

The young men catch each other in a tight embrace, ecstatic to see each other for the first time in months. “It’s been forever!” Keith can’t help but smile, too, having missed Lance.

“Feels like it!” Lance quips, backing out of the embrace. “I’ve been way too busy.”

Keith quirks an eyebrow and smirks at Lance. “With what, making heirs to the throne?” he teases.

Lance laughs, and shoves Keith’s shoulder playfully. “Come on! We’ve only been married for... three years,” he says, coming to the realization that three years of marriage is the usual amount of time to wait before trying to have kids, and he warily eyes his wife as she steps up beside him, a teasing look in her eyes.

“It’s certainly being discussed,” Allura says, hooking an arm around Lance’s. “Regardless, what’s the occasion? You seem to have planned something.”

Keith steps to the side to reveal Adam. “He’s been alive the whole time,” he says, watching as Hunk and Adam catch up with each other.

Lance’s eyes about popped out of his head. “ Profe Ward?! Oh my god!”

Allura’s confused. “You all know him?”

“He’s—or, was, Shiro’s fiance!” Lance exclaimed. “We thought he died in the First Wave.”

It clicks for Allura, and she suddenly recognizes Adam. “Oh. Oh, that... complicates things,” she mused, losing herself in deep thought.

“Hey, don’t think about it too hard,” Keith said, turning back to face Allura. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“I hope so,” Allura replied, momentarily satiated.

The group’s attention was then shifted to the hangar entrance once more, the doors opening to reveal Pidge, their focus all in on whatever they were working on with their holopad. “I was told Keith would be here,” they said, walking towards the gaggle of old friends with a steady pace.

Keith raised a hand for a half-assed wave. “Right here,” he said, grabbing Pidge’s attention.

Pidge smiled, and pocketed their holopad before pulling Keith into a welcoming hug. “You need to communicate with your Earth friends more,” they chided. “I was starting to miss you.”

“Sorry,” Keith apologized, backing out of the hug. “The Blades have had their hands full, recently. Thank god I had time for this,” he said, gesturing to Adam, whom Pidge immediately recognized.

“Oh my god,” they said, too shocked to emote. “Does Shiro know?"

“...Kind of,” Keith said. “I’ll explain, now that everyone’s here. Adam?” he called, grabbing the man’s attention.

Adam quickly jogged over to Keith, but upon doing so, he seemed to recognize Pidge. “Katie! Your brother asked me to give you something,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a data chip.

“You know my brother? Er, hang on—you know me?” Pidge asked, confused as to how Adam knew so much about her, but not enough to dissuade her from taking the chip. “I don’t use Katie much anymore.”

At that, Adam looked at Keith, who sighed, not ready for the barrage of questions he’d inevitably get after explaining. “Okay; listen up!” he called out. For a moment, the amount of eyes on him bugged him out, but he repressed it, and took a deep breath.

“Adam was thought to have died in the First Wave. He says he was hit by one of Sendak’s fighters, and crashed in a ravine. The impact knocked him unconscious, and the crash took one of his legs. Due to the blood loss, presumably, he passed out, but when he came to, he was in Galran hands. At first, they locked him up, since he had lost his leg, but Sendak told his men to put a prosthetic on him and dump him in one of the colonies. By that point, though, Sendak was losing the war, and Adam was still trapped in one of the Galran ships. When I killed Sendak, a majority of the surrounding cruisers fled, and one of those still had Adam. He was, effectively, dumped inside an abandoned prison on a barren moon, and left there to die.”

Adam smirked at this. “Buuut... a certain Rebel found me,” he said, looking at Pidge. “Matt picked up my distress signal, and broke me out. I joined the Rebel Coalition, and decided to keep my survival a secret, as...” Adam trailed off, and a far-off look flashed in eyes, but only for a moment. “Well, there’s a lot of trauma behind my decision, but, uh... I stayed in space for hopefully obvious reasons.”

The group as a whole nodded, understanding what—or rather, who —Adam was referring to. “Speaking of him, though,” Keith chimed back in, with a much happier tone, “I thought we could all surprise Shiro. He knows that Adam’s alive, hence why I brought him to Earth, but I haven’t called Shiro and told him yet. So,” Keith started, pulling out his phone, “I will do so now, and in the meantime, everyone can hide. When Adam makes his presence known, jump out and yell ‘surprise”. Easy?”

“Sounds like it,” Lance agreed, his sentiment shared amongst the rest of the group. “Okay! Let’s go hide!”

As the ex-paladins took their places, Adam stood next to Keith as he called his brother.

“Yes?”

“So, uh... Come to the General Hangar, please? I want to talk to you in person.”

“Is this about... Adam?”

“Yeah,” Keith says. He can’t help but crack a smile when he and Adam make silent but excited eye contact.

“Okay. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“Okay. See ya.”

“I will.”

Keith then hangs up, and he quickly pockets his phone, excitedly urging Adam to hide. Adam laughs at Keith’s nervousness, but hides anyway, finding cover behind a nearby cruiser still in maintenance.

Shiro may only live a few minutes away, but each one still feels like an hour, and Keith only gets more and more antsier as each one passes. Eventually, though, he can hear Shiro’s footsteps gradually get closer, and Keith puts on his best heartbroken expression before turning around to face his older brother.

“Bad news?” Shiro asks, looking genuinely worried.

Keith nods. “I don’t know the details, but the Coalition is planning something big, and they need Adam’s help. If I know anything about his position, then his inclusion means they’re being serious,” he lies, knowing that the Coalition hasn’t said anything in regards to potential future missions. “Adam couldn’t come. I’m sorry.”

Shiro understands, but he still looks upset. “Don’t be. It’s out of your control,” he says. “Good things come to those who wait, right?” He offers Keith a smile, but it’s weak, and Keith feels a little bad. “I guess I just have to learn how to wait a little longer. Patience yields focus.”

“Looks like it paid off.”

Shiro, recognizing the voice, snaps his head up and whips around, his eyes locking on to Adam. Immediately, Shiro notices just how different Adam really looks. Longer hair, a scar encompassing the left side of his face, different glasses—even his prosthetic leg is visible, albeit only the ankle. Shiro’s eyes return to Adam’s, and he’s speechless.

“...Adam.”

Upon hearing his name, Adam can only smile, as he knows what happens next. All of the ex-paladins emerge from the shadows, huge smiles on their faces. “Surprise!”

Shiro breaks, and he smiles ear-to-ear, overwhelmed with joy. He can’t help but run toward Adam, who immediately catches him in an embrace, and happily spins him around, still taller than Shiro, no matter how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!” “I can’t believe you’re back.” “Never do that to me again.” “I will never leave you.” “Fuck , I missed you.” “Thank God I found you.” “You’re still so gorgeous.” “Look at you!” “I love you so much.” Keith can’t tell who says what, but he knows he heard everything.

For a moment, though, the men are quiet, pausing to look at each other. Suddenly, Shiro reaches up to cradle Adam’s jawline, and before either one can say anything, Shiro stands on his toes to kiss Adam, the gesture quickly reciprocated. The surrounding friends all hoot and holler, of course. 

Once the pair pull away from each other, Keith saunters on up to Shiro, who notices, and promptly punches his little brother right in the side, making Keith fold over and wince. “Deserved,” he wheezes out, earning a few laughs.

“I was told you’re taking me home?” Adam asks Shiro, who nods. “Well, let’s get going, then.”

Shiro smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

As Shiro and Adam leave, with Keith tagging along, the rest of their friends all wave goodbye, happy to help with the reunion. On the drive back to the Shirogane residence, Keith sits in the backseat, and sneakily takes a picture of Shiro driving with one hand on the wheel, and the other interlaced with Adam’s.

Chapter Text

Of course, the work week operates like normal.

Adam finds himself in Shiro’s office for most of the day, as he doesn’t have much else to do, and should probably familiarize himself with how the Garrison operates post-war. Curtis took him on a tour of the rebuilt facilities earlier, acclimating him with the new personnel and chain of command. With Shiro being the captain of the Atlas, and a previous leader of Voltron, appointing him as Admiral was the only logical thing to do after Sanda’s death. Curtis is second in command, then Iverson, Holt, and finally, Veronica. Adam couldn’t believe that only five people were in charge of overseeing 86% of all Earth travel. Diplomacy was another duty entirely.

“Do you accompany every national leader for a meeting?” Adam asked, peering over Shiro’s shoulder to look at his schedule.

“Fortunately, no,” Shiro answered, reviewing the various important materials for the rest of the day. “I only know so many languages. Translators aren’t always available, even less so if the alien is the one we’re translating for. And that’s just one reason why I’m not always present.”

Adam chuckled lightly. “But I’m assuming you and the President are always joined at the hip, though, huh?”

Shiro echoed Adam’s amusement. “Mostly. Her secretaries are always in communication with me, especially at the end of every month. I have a report due next week, which is partly why the non-Earth paladins are staying for longer than they usually would. I have some meetings with them, but most of these are for the other Garrison bases around the world. I’ve been good about keeping an eye on these things before the reports are due, but... it’s a lot of work,” he sighed, smiling sheepishly.

“Sounds like it. Also sounds like it pays well, too,” Adam commented.

Shiro laughed. “It does, but that paladin check pays well, too.”

Adam quirked an eyebrow. “Paladin check?”

“It does what it says on the tin. $2000 every month for saving the universe. No fees, no tax, no pay cuts. We get paid for the rest of our lives,” Shiro explained, a bit of a cocky grin on his face.

“Oh, so you’re all set, huh?” Adam teased.

Shiro shrugged. “If I wanted to be. You know me, though… I couldn’t give up space for anything,” he said, a far-off look of wonder in his eyes.

“Even after all the shit it gave you?” Adam asked.

“Without a doubt in the universe,” Shiro answered.

As the work day progressed, Adam found himself falling back into a nostalgic role alongside the Galaxy Garrison personnel, albeit not exactly having the qualifications or rank to do so, seeing as he was still legally dead. Regardless, he was welcomed back into the community with open arms, and he was more than grateful to finally be back home.

Home.

It was different, now. Not just in a metaphorical sense; no, his actual home was… changed.

Yesterday, he had seen Shiro for the first time in what felt like forever, and simultaneously, no time at all. He had kissed him. And then, on the ride home, he held Shiro’s hand. Adam didn’t care that this hand was cold and made from titanium; his fingers laced around Shiro’s all the same.

Adam almost didn’t recognize the house when Shiro pulled into the driveway. It was the same color, but it seems some repairs were needed after the invasion. A new roof and a vast array of flowering plants, amongst other miscellaneous additions, reminded Adam that he no longer lived here.

That is, until Adam took Shiro’s hand, trying to pretend the ring on it was meant for him instead as he was guided inside, and he saw how much had actually changed.

Not much.

Keith was absolutely right. The shelves were filled with well-loved copies of Adam’s favorite books, framed pictures of him dotted the walls and tables, and the smell of chamomile and sugar permeated throughout the house.

Most notably, though, was his upright piano still against the dining room wall. Adam remembers learning everything he knew about music on that old thing, lessons with his mother stacking on top of and mixing together with each other the longer he looked at it. God, his mother. Adam doesn’t want to think of the grief she must feel over losing her only child; Adam can hear his father chide her for it now. “Ach, Laura,” he’d say, never actually annoyed, “come on, do something else with your time.”

As Adam’s gaze lingered on the piano, he realized two things about it; firstly… there was a shrine on top of it.

Right in the middle were two very specific pictures. Firstly, Adam’s most recent yearbook photo, taken just a few months before the invasion. Next to it, though, was the picture taken when Adam and Shiro de-boarded their ship once they came home from their Mars mission. They were the third mission to Mars ever at that point in time, and the paparazzi that had taken the picture had cemented them in history.

Secondly, though, surrounding the pictures were a ton of decorations, ranging from two small vases filled with green carnations, primroses, and forget-me-nots, all the way to every award, medal, certification, and degree Adam had ever earned.

Even with all of that on display, more items filled in the gaps. There were a few candles lit, but everything else was, at some level, sentimental.

A few family heirlooms were present, meaning that they had been saved, all nicely boxed up and displayed. Notes and origami that Shiro and Adam would toss back and forth to each other during lectures decorated the piano with waves of color. Handwritten music compositions at various completion levels were neatly stacked as if they were still being used. Adam’s case for his old pair of glasses was empty, but it had been filled with the pins from his favorite jean jacket, hooked on the back right corner of the piano like Adam had just shucked it off after a night with friends. Beneath it was three more things; Adam’s silver Conn trumpet packed away in its case, his wingtip tap shoes all shined up placed on top, and his acoustic guitar resting on its stand.

Between the two framed pictures atop the piano was Shiro’s engagement ring, the one Adam gave to Keith so it could be returned. It had been placed back in its box, left open to let the light reflect off the moss agate stone in the center.

All of this was noticed within seconds, and Adam couldn’t even begin to process what it all exactly meant. All he knew was that when he started to tear up, Shiro gently gave his hand a squeeze, and said, “You’re welcome.”

Adam had never left Shiro’s life. He had always been just as much a part of it as Curtis ended up being. Now, it felt as though Adam stepped back into a familiar gap in Shiro’s life, instead of forcing himself back into it.

Speaking of Curtis, Adam had finally met him. He was tall and dark-skinned (which only made it obvious that Shiro had a type), blue-eyed, and charismatic. He gladly shook Adam’s hand, complete with a smile.

Curtis explained how he and Shiro met; when news broke about the Kerberos mission, Curtis knew something wasn’t right. He tried to do some digging with the clearance that he had, but it wasn’t enough. When Sam returned to Earth, Curtis managed to get Shiro and Keith’s video message from him, and he was the one who had mailed the inconspicuous USB drive to Adam.

Adam thanked Curtis profusely upon hearing this, to which Curtis only chuckled, claiming that he did it just because it was the right thing to do.

Continuing with his explanation, Curtis said that Sam had chosen him to be on the bridge of the IGF-Atlas, as he was the one sending messages out into space in the hopes that Voltron would intercept them first—which unfortunately wasn’t the case.

During the Atlas’ excursion after the invasion, Curtis gradually warmed up to Shiro, seeing as they worked side-by-side. Although Curtis fell first, Shiro fell harder. He made the first move after he noticed Curtis watching him during the Clear Day festivities.

“Did you watch the entire show?” Shiro asked, walking up to Curtis as they re-entered the IGF-Atlas.

Curtis perked up, taking notice of who joined him. “Yeah,” he answered. “Somebody had to be there to cheer you on, seeing as everyone else went off to do their own thing.”

Shiro smiled warmly. “I appreciate it. Besides,” he said, “you being in the audience gave me a reason to keep going.”

Curtis couldn’t help but blush at that, his eyes going wide in surprise. ”I did?” he asked, his nerves alighting with excitement.

“You always do,” Shiro said, his tone earnest. His eyes were so kind, always have been, and Curtis found himself unable to look away. “I couldn’t do any of this without you, to be honest.”

Now, both of them were flushed, standing in front of the elevator up to the bridge as if they had nowhere else to be. “You don’t mean that,” Curtis said, a small chuckle escaping him.

Shiro smiled, and his gaze somehow softened even further. “I do,” he said, reaching out to press the call button for the elevator, all without breaking eye contact. “You can believe me, Curtis.”

Something about hearing Shiro say his name made Curtis feel weak in the knees, and he swore he was walking on shaky legs when he stepped into the elevator behind his captain. “What if you’re just saying that to make me like you?” Curtis teased, his smile growing bigger.

Shiro shrugged. “Maybe I am,” he said, stepping closer—almost too close, but Curtis didn’t push him away. “Maybe I like you .”

Neither of them realized what was happening until their lips were pressed together.

It was a quick kiss, one that could be easily forgotten, but with the way Shiro looked at him, Curtis could never forget.

Adam was glad to know that Shiro had found someone good for him. It was obvious, too—as the group settled in for the night, Curtis made dinner, and Shiro helped, having upped his cooking skills in the past few years. Adam watched, and he noticed how Curtis guided him, so effortlessly that Shiro didn’t even notice. Adam could only wish to have that ability. He’s not sure how different this Shiro is from the one almost a decade ago , now, but Curtis is.

All four ate dinner together, recounting stories from their time apart. Shiro and Curtis’ multiple near-death missions on the Atlas, bonding over poor self-care choices (maybe Shiro never really changed at all), and the day Shiro was inaugurated as Admiral of the Texas branch. They were interrupted by Matcha, though, who was dropped off by her dogsitter after a good day at the groomer’s. She approved of Adam quite fondly.

By the time the clock hit 2300, all of them were in bed. Curtis actually offered to swap places with Adam for the night, and at first, Adam was shocked. “But he’s… your husband,” Adam had said.

Curtis only chuckled. “And he’s your fiancé. Don’t act like I don’t see that dopey look on his face.”

Adam gladly took Curtis up on his offer. For the first time in years, Shiro fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around Adam, and upon waking up, he couldn’t help but kiss him a second time.

Now, the night repeated, although a little bit easier, less tense. Adam made dinner that night, and afterward, when Shiro and Curtis laid down on the couch, happy and content with themselves, Adam found his hands hovering over the keys of his upright.

Just like riding a bike, huh?

“Draw the blinds… light every candle. Slip off my pretty dress, down my chest… when I think of you…”

Shiro sat up slowly, wondering why the words Adam sang were so goddamn familiar. This song felt important. He just couldn’t figure out why. Had he repressed the memory? It sure felt like it.

“Do you picture me, like I picture you?”

Oh.

This is the song that Shiro had confessed with. This is the song they chose for their first dance.

Oh.

Shiro quietly crossed the room, tears welled up in his eyes as he curiously watched Adam continue to play. God, his voice. Still just as beautiful as Shiro remembered. Carefully, Shiro pulled up a chair from the table and sat down next to the piano, somewhat in shock.

Adam noticed, though. He looked right into Shiro’s eyes, singing like a goddamn siren, or so it felt. Now that he was only using his right hand, he reached out with his left, and Shiro took it, clasping Adam’s hand in his own.

Shiro kissed him again.

“You sure seem to like doing that,” Adam teased.

Shiro huffed amusedly. “I haven’t been told no.” He looked over at his husband, who had been watching him and Adam from the couch, his head laid on his arms crossed over the armrest, posed like an infatuated subject of a classical painting. At least, that’s how Shiro saw him. Rose-colored glasses, he guessed.

“Honestly,” Curtis started, looking at the pair with heart-eyes, “I’m saying yes.”

Adam blushed at that. “Oh. So—so, does that mean… um,” he stammered. “Takashi and I…?”

Curtis chuckled lightly, and stood up to cross the room, now standing in front of Adam. “ This is what I mean,” he said, putting a comforting hand on Adam’s shoulder.

Curtis kissed Adam.

Shiro’s world flipped on its head.

Adam looked confused when they split, but not upset. Not at all. “You…” He was at a loss for words.

Curtis gave him a warm smile. “That… that was okay?” he asked, now seeming a little shy. Now this was the Curtis who Shiro married.

Adam swallowed thickly. He nodded.

Curtis gave a quick nod in reply. “Good. It’d be nice to get to know you.”

“Yeah,” Adam breathed. “…You’re hot.”

At this, all three of them laughed, affection coursing through their veins like they lived off of it. Shiro was overjoyed. He could have both men in his life. He thought he was crazy.