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Training is something Keith does whenever he is in need of time to breathe, time to think, time to be mindless. It’s a habit that started before he became a paladin of Voltron and it has stuck with him, even now that the war is over and the Atlas, along with Voltron, became figureheads for the new mission of fulfilling the promise of peace.
It was inevitable that he would find himself where he and Shiro, or rather, Kuron, had fought a couple of years before. And as inevitable, the choice to save the three clones that remained intact in the wreckage of the facility. The rest of what remained was destroyed, Keith taking a perverse sort of pleasure in seeing everything explode, a bright flash of justice causing the visor of his helmet to darken in order to protect his eyes.
Many aboard the Atlas were not happy with this decision, but Keith stood firm, promising to keep an eye on the trio and be in charge of whatever needed to be done to make sure that the clones were not a danger. With the team’s assistance, they verified the status of programming. The most developed of them chose the name Kuro as an homage to the one who came before him. He was the closest version to the clone whose body Shiro reclaimed. The white shock of bangs, the metal arm, the muscles and body of the Shiro tempered in the gladiator ring. Pidge reviewed the arm, combing through the coding and ensuring that there were no hidden trojan programs waiting to activate, and Allura was able to scan the rest of him to verify there was no alchemy, no darkness inhabiting him.
The second was called Ryou, a version of Shiro from when he was first taken by the Galra. He still had his human arm, and so after a full scan by the med bay and by Allura, he was cleared to be awakened.
The third clone chose the name of Taka. He was the one closest to the version of Shiro before he left for Kerberos. He was also cleared to be awakened.
Miraculously, none of the clones had the muscle degenerative disease that had plagued Shiro. Honerva had been successful in cleaning up the genetic coding. That was, perhaps, the one thing Keith would be grateful to the witch for.
For a time, they were held in containment. Keith visited each one with Shiro and brought them all up to speed. It seems that the memories Kuron had up to his defeat on the platform were also in these clones. Anything afterwards was not able to be downloaded from the clone post-battle. It was fortunate but at the same time, Keith couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the trio.
Once it was clear that they were of no known danger to the crew, to the paladins, the Atlas, or Voltron, they were given jobs to do. All three were grateful for the chance to live and were determined to find their own ways in the new world they found themselves.
They were all versions of Shiro, and Keith was drawn to them all. He found himself in the company of at least one of the clones often and he found it comforting; being Captain of the Atlas meant Shiro was preoccupied much of his waking hours. So it was that they began joining Keith in the training room. Usually at least one was available, and often it was two, and on rare occasions, it was all three.
The training that helped him, also helped them out.
On one such rare occasion, Keith and the three are working on strategies of how to fight more than one opponent at once. Keith is in the center this round. The trio and he had been working for quite some time already and Keith will always blame exhaustion for Kuro’s swift uppercut that caught him unaware. Stumbling backwards, a little dazed, Keith ends up on his ass on the floor of the training room. Kuro’s eyes widen in surprise, and crouches down in front of him, hands finding Keith’s chin and moving his head side to side to peer at him. “Sorry about that, I miscalculated on the move. Either that or you were a fraction too slow.”
Tasting blood, Keith wipes at his lower lip and sees blood there. “I think not being able to sleep might be the issue, so it’s more my fault than yours.”
Kuro’s watching him, Taka and Ryou stretching out behind them, eyes intensely focused on Keith’s lip, a frown creasing between his eyebrows. Keith feels the urge to reassure,“It’s okay, Kuro. This is why we’re doing this, right? Making sure that this doesn’t happen next time I have more than one opponent.”
The training room is quiet then, filled only with the breathing of the four of them. The others finish their stretching and are watching, waiting, and Keith isn’t sure why none of them are speaking. Kuro is close now, human hand still resting on Keith’s jaw as he studies the wound. His eyes meet Keith’s then, and Keith finds that he cannot look away.
Completely unexpectedly, Kuro is breathing his air, face so close, hand sliding along his jaw to curve around the back of his neck, under his growing braid. “Keith,” is all he says before his mouth covers Keith’s. His heart races, blood pounding through his body and Keith closes his eyes before he gasps, split lip stinging slightly.
Leaning back from the contact, he notices a small trace of his blood on Kuro’s upper lip. Keith frowns, suddenly out of breath, “What. . . what are you doing?”
Kuro’s hand is hanging in the space between them, Keith pulling out of his reach, “Keith. I just. . . I needed to kiss you. You do so much for us and blame us for nothing that came before and I just needed to. I’m sorry about the lip.”
The words make him a little bit warm. Keith soon relaxes a bit, but his heart seems to flutter in his chest, “It’s not your fault, so why would I blame you? Any of you?”
The other two men move closer then, but Keith isn’t alarmed. He always feels safe with any of them. Shiro has never hurt him willingly and these three wouldn’t either. Taka speaks next: “Many still do. It’s all in how they look at us.”
Ryou nods in agreement as Kuro then leans in to kiss Keith’s forehead. “You always make sure we’re taken care of and always stand up for us. We benefit from sharing genetic profiles with Shiro.”
Keith can’t help but want to defend against that comment.
“You may be copies of Shiro, but you are all just as good as he is. He never gave up on me. I will never give up on him. And I will never give up on you.”
Kuro pulls back from the kiss, his Galran arm pulling Keith to him, and Keith finds himself fully embraced by Kuro, strong arms surrounding him and holding him close. “We’re sorry we cannot be Shiro for you. We know you’ve had feelings for Shiro for quite some time now.”
Keith jerks at that, muscles tensing up again. “Kuro, guys, it’s not like that.”
He pulls back and stands, backing accidentally into Ryou, who says, “You’ve done so much for us. Please let us give you something in return.”
Taka is staring at him sadly. “The three of us would do anything for you, Keith.”
Kuro sighs, hand rubbing at his head as he gets to his feet, “We’ve tried to convince Shiro that there is something there, but he keeps insisting that we’re misreading the situation. Typical denial.” The chagrined smile is handsome on his face. “I would know.”
Distracted by the curve of Kuro’s lips, Keith suddenly jerks in realization at the words coming out of his mouth, “You. . . you told Shiro?” He feels a slight panic rise inside, belly starting to hurt from the sudden rush of anxiety.
Taka raises his hands calmly, as if trying to soothe a skittish cat, “Keith, no. Not directly. We promise. We were just trying to help.”
The soothing doesn't work and Keith, like the image of the feline in his head, feels the need to flee. “I. . . need to go.”
But Kuro stops his sudden flight, fingers tight but gentle around his captured forearm, “Wait. Keith. Please let us take care of you. We. . . would be honored if you did.”
“What?” Keith meets Kuro’s eyes, kind and gentle and knowing. “What do you mean?”
Kuro’s lips curve upward, “Ryou heard you the other day.”
A chill of dread creeps up Keith’s spine, “Heard. . . me?”
“Heard you call out for Shiro. In the showers.” Ryou says.
The chill flames out into white hot shame. “I really have to go.” He tugs his wrist out of Kuro’s light hold. Before Kuro releases him, he leans in with a low, tender voice, “Please let us take care of you. It doesn’t have to be specifically in that fashion, but we want to comfort you.”
When Keith is free, he retreats from the training room. He runs and runs and runs until he finds himself in Black, huddled in the corner he made for himself to escape to.
**~~~~~**
Calmer, less conflicted a few hours later, Keith allows himself to wander down the road of what if. That even if his feelings for Shiro were returned, the man himself would not likely make a move. The origins of their relationship, their friendship as well as the guidelines drilled into any cadet attending the Garrison, would be a definite wall that Shiro likely could not let himself break down.
Keith had hoped that one day it might be different, but with Voltron and Atlas working together, it would be years, possibly, before anything might happen. And even then, Keith isn’t sure if Shiro feels remotely the same as Keith does. Much less wait for him when one or both of them step away from their roles.
Even though he saw Shiro on a regular basis, he missed him in ways he didn’t think were possible. Being on Voltron together was such a blessing because he got to be around him every day, nearly from when they woke up to when they went to sleep at night. He wasn’t sure how he got to be so lucky to have had that time. But Keith is no stranger to life and the twists and turns it would bring to any one person, and he knew that things would not remain the same forever. In time, life had proved to be inevitable. Or death, in this case.
Back in his quarters now, Keith showers and dresses down for bed as much as he ever does and lays there in the dark, the ghost of Kuro’s kiss still on his lips. He supposes. . . if things were different, maybe he wouldn’t be here. But this is the way things are and he’s not used to dwelling much on things he cannot change.
Still, the thought persists. . .what if he did give in? What if he did take Kuro’s offer? He could have Shiro in a way. It feels terrible to think that. It feels not a small bit like betrayal. In a way, though, it might be better to have something of Shiro. It would allow him to keep the friendship as it is, rather than risk it with what could be. He should be grateful enough that he still has Shiro in his life because the universe tried to take its pound of flesh. And in some respect, succeeded.
He cannot deny that he does long for the touch of someone. It’s rare now that he even gets one of Shiro’s hands on his shoulder. It wasn’t something he was used to growing up in the foster homes as he did. His father, who he knew loved him without a doubt, also had much to be desired in the comforting touch area of parenthood.
The thought made him miss his mother something fierce. The years he spent with her on the space whale were a gift he would always treasure.
If anything, he could try it out. Decide if this happened to be something he could do. They wouldn’t even have to do anything more than just. . . be. The promise of something more did entice him though. That the comfort they offered was not solely their companionship.
Keith lay there a few minutes more, letting the idea roll around in his head as he stared at the ceiling above his bed. He lets his hand drift downward, across the plane of his chest, the flattened belly, cupping the gentle mound there, pressing down for a brief moment, a thrill fluttering through him at the touch. Maybe not today, but soon perhaps.
He rolls to a sitting position and thinks about the risks versus the reward in this. To be fair, what does he have to lose in this decision? Kosmo briefly raises his head and then decides to stay right where he is, watching Keith pad barefoot and in pajamas out the door.
**~~~~~**
It’s not far to where the three men share quarters. Certainly mitigates the chance that Keith will change his mind. He presses the touch screen by the door, waiting quietly until it hisses open, Kuro standing there with a touch of surprise coloring his smile.
Taka is at a table when Kuro steps aside to let him in and he sees Ryou on one of the couches in the sitting area. He’s surprised though, when he finally focuses on the area that is traditionally a sitting area. The couches are still there but they bracket a large mattress, covered in pillows and blankets. He frowns in confusion, looking first at Kuro, who comes up beside him.
Kuro answers with a shrug. Taka speaks from the table, his hand curled around a mug, “We have a lot of sleepless nights. This helps.”
A hand gently squeezes Keith’s shoulder, “Are you okay with this? We want to take care of you, it doesn’t have to be anything more than just being here, with us.”
The gentle warmness of Kuro’s voice relaxes Keith a little and he smiles, small and grateful, “Let’s just go where things lead us. It’s not like we have to rush anything, right?”
“Just so,” Ryou says. He flops onto the mound of mattress, pillows and blankets, soft gray sleep pants creeping up his calf, his white tank also revealing skin, a sliver of paleness that Keith can’t help but notice. Ryou is grinning when Keith’s eyes finally look up and he pats the spot next to him. “Let’s get comfy. We can watch The Legend of Bob together.”
“Okay,” is Keith’s response and he comes closer to the monstrosity of comfort, uncertain of exactly how he’s supposed to get in. The choice becomes null and void when a hand grips his wrist and he lets himself be pulled down. Kuro follows after him, snuggling close to his other side and Taka sits with his back to the one couch, hand creeping into Keith’s hair and gently caressing, scratching, almost meditatively.
Ryou starts the program and the lights in the room are dimmed low and Keith relaxes into the warmth, into the strong bodies surrounding him and the sense that here he’s safe, here he’s cared for, here he’s no longer lonely. This may not have been what he thought was going to happen, but that’s okay. This was exactly what he needed.
It’s a while later and an animation portraying Bob, which is familiar to the experience he and the other Paladins had years ago, is almost over. Keith is relaxed and warm, feeling safe as he has ever been. This was a good idea. This was a great idea.
The outside door opens and three heads turn while Kuro’s grinning. It’s Shiro. Looking confused at the tableau in front of him, “What. . .what is going on?”
Kuro smirks, “What does it look like?”
The crease between Shiro’s eyebrows deepens in the light of the vid screen, “I’m. . .I’m not sure.”
Keith looks at Kuro in question. Kuro shrugs next to him and says, “Surprise.”
Keith sighs and decides, fuck it, “Just take your shoes off and join us, Shiro. Stop standing in the door like a creeper.”
Kuro snorts, Ryou and Taka’s hands find their mouths as they lose the battle to stifle their laughter.
“Wha-, Keith, uh, what. Why?”
Keith rolls his eyes and sits up, “Please. I want you here, Shiro. Isn’t that enough? I hardly get to see you anymore and I. . . I miss you. I miss just hanging out.”
Keith isn’t sure that Shiro is going to stay. He isn’t sure of anything because he’s always given his love freely and left it up to Shiro to figure out how he accepts it. This moment really isn’t any different, to be sure, it’s just that he’s tired of waiting. Of hoping. For Shiro’s part, he’s never led Keith on and Keith has never expected anything of him.
But he finds that in this moment, he is surprised when Shiro nods to himself and sits in a chair, pulling off one boot, then the other, removing his uniform jacket and heaving a sigh that is hard for Keith to read.
He moves closer to where they all are and without a word, Ryou moves away from his side of Keith, creating an open area between them; an obvious invitation. Shiro gets on all fours and crawls among the bodies before lowering his in the space and making little adjustments here and there before breathing deeply and exhaling loudly.
Keith meets Shiro’s gaze and lays back slowly, tucking himself close to Shiro’s warmth and promptly falls asleep. Later, Keith is certain he has never fallen to sleep so quickly, nor so deeply as he awakes to the deep audible vibration emanating from between himself and everyone around him. He lays there quiet, relaxed, eyes closed.
“Must be the Galra part.” One voice speaks. From the direction and distance, it must be Taka.
“Or it’s just the Keith part.” That’s the voice from the body under his cheek, Shiro. It sounds fond. And warm.
Keith opens his eyes then, and sees Shiro smiling at him in the dim light of the room. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Keith croaks sleepily. “Thanks for staying. Sorry for falling asleep.”
A soft chuckle comes from multiple throats, “It’s fine, Keith. I didn’t realize you hadn’t been sleeping still.”
Keith feels his cheeks warm, “Well, I mean, I do. Sleep. Kind of.”
Shiro’s raised eyebrow says he doubts that very much. “I know how you were when we were coming back to Earth. You might not have said anything, but I could see.”
“I needed to make sure you were safe, Shiro.” Keith admits.
“And what is the difference now?” Shiro asks, voice gentle.
Keith feels a hand on his hip rub in gentle circles, another curled around his shoulder. Kuro, and Shiro, respectively. He glances up to where Taka is gazing at him, Ryou is peeking over Shiro’s shoulder at him and knows despite not looking, that Kuro is also looking at him. He closes his eyes and lets the truth out, “I finally feel safe? Finally feel like we’re all going to be safe. That you’re going to be safe. You can blame it on them, really. And you are here. Can we do this every night? I haven’t slept so well in a long time.”
Kuro laughs, “If the purring wasn’t an indication, the fact you were out for a few hours definitely was a clue.”
“Oh my god.” Keith buries his face in Shiro’s chest.
“Keith, if it helps you out, I will stay over more often.”
Stay forever? Keith thinks. Or believes he does, until he feels Shiro’s muscles tense up under him. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, and yes. If you’ll have me.” Shiro answers. “I kind of thought maybe there was something else going on with all of you, though.”
Keith’s head springs back to look at Shiro, eyes wide. “Well, not yet.”
“But you want to?”
“Shiro, why wouldn’t I? They’re literally all you.” He slaps his hand over his face. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. Honestly. Keith is not used to his mouth running away with him. What the hell is going on with him?
The stillness around him feels like they are all holding their breaths, waiting for the inevitable end of the conversation.
“Well then,” Shiro finally says after eons of Keith screaming in his own head. “I guess I can find it in me to share. Especially since it’s just me I’m sharing with.”
And with that, all of them laugh. Hard. Like this was the best joke in the entire universe.
On second thought, Keith muses, maybe this isn’t a good idea. They all share the same brain cells and as a result, the same humor. They’re going to be the death of him.
Shiro’s still chuckling under him when he pulls Keith to him and kisses him soundly.
Then again, maybe death isn’t so bad. Especially if he gets to share it all with Shiro. And Kuro. And Ryou. And last but not least, Taka.
**~~~~~**
The next morning they all enter the cafeteria, Keith heavy a few marks on his neck. Shiro has at least one, and the other three equally showing some sign of possession courtesy Keith. Can you blame him?
They’re standing in line at the counter when a voice squawks from nearby. It’s unmistakable who it belongs to.
“HOW IS IT KEITH GETS A HAREM OF SHIROS AND I CAN’T GET A HAREM OF ALLURAS.”
Keith smirks smugly to himself and just shrugs at the other paladins, “Just lucky, I guess.”