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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

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———

“Keith Kogane, you magnanimous dumbass, would it kill you to ask me out like a man. Something like that.”

Hunk presses the pause button. He tucks his phone back into his pocket. He turns to Shiro, expectant, prepared.

“So,” he says.

Shiro stares at the space in front of him, fingertips pressed together and in front of his face.

“So.”

“Your brother is kind of an airhead.”

“He is indeed.”

“No offense to Keith. He has his smart moments. Probably.” Hunk’s mouth twitches. “Sorry. I said that to not be mean and then immediately thought of the whole Voltron cheer situation and laughed in my head. I promise I don’t actually think Keith is stupid.”

Shiro’s mouth twitches. He forces his face to remain neutral. It is a challenge.

“Keith refused to name his pet gecko as a child,” he shares. “He insisted the gecko would reveal its name when it was ready.”

Hunk bites his lip very hard. He looks deliberately away from Shiro.

“He was thirteen.”

The yellow paladin presses his hands to his eyes. He tries visibly hard to compose himself. He fails.

“…I see.”

“My fiancé often said he must have been born blond.”

“Boy, do I have news for you.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows. “More news than your recording of Lance processing his love?”

“There was an incident beforehand,” Hunk explains. “You know how Lance does those leg stretches sometimes? When we have agility training?”

Shiro inclines his head.

“Well, apparently last week he did them in front of Keith and Keith was so distracted he walked into a wall and broke his nose. He had to go into a healing pod.”

Truly, Shiro would love to say that he’s surprised. He’d love to say that his brother, known gay, was not so fixated on a cute boy that he walked into a whole ass wall hard enough to break his nose. He would love for that to be true.

But he knows his dumbass brother.

“Oh my God.”

“And he still isn’t picking up Lance’s hints.”

“Oh my God.”

Hunk nods, patting Shiro’s hand sympathetically. “We gotta do something, man. I can’t keep watching this.” He pauses. “Also, I really want to stop hearing about what Lance thinks about Keith’s Galra form. I really can’t hear any more talk about fangs in places fangs should not be placed. It’s not good for my mental health.”

Shiro sighs. Even he has heard Lance’s mutterings about Keith’s fangs, and Lance still gets all shy and star-struck around him. At this point it’s gotta be a human rights violation.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises.

———

He finds his brother in the training room, because of course he does, getting absolutely demolished by the training bot.

“You’re getting your ass kicked,” Shiro observes.

Keith grunts.

Shiro makes himself comfortable at the edge of the mat, sticking a straw in a juice pouch and sipping it leaisurely as he watches the twerp get pummelled. It’s amusing, in the way watching those test-dummy car crashes are amusing. Or videos of kids crying in fear of Santa Claus.

“Level failed,” echoes the pleasant voice of Space Siri, as Lance and Pidge have dubbed the disembodied robot voice of the training room. “Try again?”

“Fuck off,” Keith mutters to it.

Shiro stretches out and pokes him with his toe. Keith only half-heartedly tries to slice him about it.

“Somebody’s brooding.”

Evidentially deciding he would rather vent in Shiro’s direction than fall for Shiro’s transparent attempts to goad him into a fight, he flops down dramatically, stealing Shiro’s juice pouch and rudely sucking back the rest of it. Fucker.

“He’s so confusing,” he says, free arm flailing. “Just — all the time.”

Shiro politely refrains from asking him to clarify. He knows who he’s talking about.

“Hm,” he says instead, supportively. “How unfortunate for you.”

“Right!” He throws his hands up in the air, sending his bayard flying in one direction and the empty juice pouch in another. Shiro watches it go with great sadness. “One second it’s — Keith, you suck so bad, ugh, you’re such a weird dweeb. And the next it’s I’m hanging out with Coran and you’re not allowed to come and also I hate you.” He looks at Shiro expectantly. “He’s so!” He gestures vaguely. Shiro assumes it’s meant to mean something.

Shiro stares at him.

“See, to me there’s no dichotomy there,” he says slowly. “You said that as if it was two different sentiments. But in fact that was the same opinion expressed twice.”

“The tone was different,” Keith insists. “The dweeb thing is affectionate. He says it in a friendship way. I’m sure of it.”

“Friendship,” Shiro echoes.

“Exactly,” Keith agrees.

Shiro hums. He’s quite sure, now, that he is not going to explain to Keith in any words of his own how much of an oblivious dumbass he is. There is no sentence or string of sentences that Shiro can use to demonstrate just how obvious Lance is being, and how obtusely Keith is responding. He’s going to have to be clearer than that.

But. For his own amusement.

“Could you maybe explain how Lance shows his friendship to you? So I can better understand, of course.”

“Well, for starters, he says we’re enemies but always wants to pair up,” Keith says. “That’s friendship, right?”

“That’s certainly one way to put it, sure.”

“And the fact that we hang out so often.”

“Of course.”

“And the clothes stealing, of course. Lance says I have gross mullet germs but he’s always stealing my jackets, so that doesn’t add up.”

Shiro purses his lips. That is — whew. Poor Lance is in the trenches.

Keith pouts. “I just don’t get why he flips around it all the time, man. I mean, one second he’s all smiles and nudging my shoulders, and the next he’s bright red and stomping away. He’s so confusing!”

Shiro can take this no longer.

“Keith, I am going to show you something,” he says, digging his phone out of his pocket and pulling up the file Hunk sent him. “Okay?”

“…Okay,” Keith says hesitantly.

Shiro stares at him for a moment longer. Then he sighs, shoves the phone into Keith’s hands, and presses play.

The video starts shaky, audio muddled, and when it clears Lance is lying sprawled on Hunk’s bed, pillow strewn dramatically to the side.

“I just wish I could get it through his fool head that he is loved by me particularly in such a way that I want to hold hands and kiss and generally be nuisances of the affectionate kind. You know, romance,” he is saying.

Keith goes still next to him. With every passing word his jaw drops lower and lower.

“You could also ask him out like a man,” Hunk is explaining.

“Choke and die,” responds video-Lance, and then the audio cuts. Shiro puts his phone away.

“So?”

“I have to go immediately,” Keith says. He’s up and halfway out the door before Shiro can blink.

“Shower first!” he calls. “You just sweated it up with the training hot for God knows how long. Wash off before you do anything romcom-y.” Keith disappears around the corner. “Keith, do you hear me? Shower first! Keith!”

———

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mothmanavenue · 9 months

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More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles)

But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles)

You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion)

You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts)

Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof)

Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you

#voltron #song: achilles come down by gang of youths #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanart #vld #vld fanart #shiro vld fanart #shiro voltron #shiro voltron art #voltron shiro #shiro voltron angst #shiro voltron fanart #vld shiro #shiro vld art #shiro vld #takashi shirogane art #takashi shirogane #takashi shirogane fanart #i love shiro i love him so much i’m sorry i keep drawing angst for him

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vldsideblog · 9 months

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But what if the broganes had matching gold and silver earrings. Cause you know, their last names. What if they were gifts from Adam. What if they held onto them somehow, even in space. What if Shiro fought to keep that earring with him while he was in captivity, cause that’s all he had left from his brother and his fiancée.

#I’m sorry #I’m having emotions about this little family #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #keith voltron #character headcanons #broganes #adashi #shiro is a good big brother

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kalijmi · 5 months

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hi yes this is me posting abt klance in the year of 2023 (forgive me)

but here’s one of my fics, i wrote it a while ago n only got round to publishing it like 6(?) months ago? idk but this is FINALLY me posting it on tumblr xx

_____________

“Keith, who stole your heart?” She asked once more. He could do this. She knew he could.

Keith looked out of the window, breathing in deeply before saying, “Lance McClain.”

The room is quiet. And then Keith smiled, a wide, bright, sincere smile. And then he laughed for a second, sounding exactly like he did all those years ago, before looking back at Nadia with an ear splitting grin. “I’ve been in love with him all my life.”

;;or, the voltron fic (kinda) based off the seven husbands of evelyn hugo.

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deckoftrickcards · 18 days

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heard you don't like shiro

valid

but consider velkynkarma fics they do a great job at fleshing out his character more from the scraps we get

(-sincerely a past shiro hater)

(hate is a strong word I just kinda forgot he was there lol)

I PROMISE I DONT HATE HIM I JUST DONT RLLY CARE ABOUT HIMMM LMFAOOO🙏🏻🙏🏻PLZ DONT CANCEL ME GUYS😞😞 anyways i will look into those fics i’m intrigued thank uu

#i’m sorry #i hate him cuz he’s gay #NO I DONT #NOOOOOO #sorry shiro #not rlly tho

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citrusmoth11 · 2 years

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Keith, yelling down the hall: Lance, what day is it?

Lance: It is Wednesday my dudes

Matt, kicking the door down: ahhHHHHHH-

Keith, done™️:

#i’m sorry this is so stupid #it was funnier in my head #keith calls Shiro to ask him #but he gets the same response #pidge screams with Shiro bc ofc she does #klance #matt holt #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron #matt voltron #keith voltron #vld lance

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sockdooe · 1 year

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You know what I don’t see a lot of??? Old lance dressing up!!!

#sockdooe’s art #digital art #voltron #lance mcclain #lance voltron #voltron lance #honestly I see people dress him up but like none of that with him older #honestly I did this more for myself cause I found such cute jewelry and I’ve got like no money #Etsy and Pinterest keeps luring me in with their stuff man #like I’m sorry strawberry earrings???? yes please #I’m gonna do a shiro too at some point cause he’s my favorite and why wouldn’t I??#the more I keep looking at this the more I’m starting not to like it #why

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umbralaether · 1 year

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There were times where Keith was moody, rough around the edges, and would not-so-subtly demand Shiro's attention. All it took was one simple look -- eyes fiery and focused on one thing only. Shiro.

He would linger, after training or meetings and corner Shiro with fierce kisses and wandering hands, all the while the other man remained helpless. He could stop Keith, he knows this much, but he doesn't want to. Instead Shiro is left to decipher what it is Keith needs from him.

Sometimes it's just to rile Shiro up, get him hot and bothered before something important, where Keith would then abandon his prey to return to it later - smug yet cool in the eyes of anyone truly looking. Shiro would repay him later behind closed doors, where the former red paladin would be at his mercy. Other times, Keith would put them in the hands of fate on whether or not they'd be seen, and knowing Lance the likelihood of being caught was high.

It was a Galra thing, Keith had commented nonchalantly. Quick to give into his temper, to become hot-headed and frustrated. Shiro hated seeing this side, how much pain it caused. Keith always tried to hide it, yet when he returned with bruises along his body after missions with the Blades time and time again, Shiro could not help but question. How can I help? What do you need? He'd plead.

Wreck me, consume me. I need only you.

Shiro was happy to oblige.

This night there was a party off-ship. The host planet had provided food and drinks -- some alcoholic, a rare splurge to celebrate the defeat of the Galra in the area. Shiro, while not quite drunk but not quite sober, had watched Keith from across the room. He was with the other Blades of Marmora, preoccupied with watching the others filtering in and out of the palace, sipping every so often on the host planet's signature purple drink.

The alien beside Shiro was deep in a conversation with Allura and Coran, something about the planet's history that the Altean's were truly happy to hear more about. Though Shiro was supposed to be listening, he could not help but focus on Keith making his way towards him, eyes glowing in the dim light.

"Oh, you must come see our planets' records. I'm sure they will be of some use to you." The man said, gesturing for Coran and Allura to follow him. They made their exit, just in time for Keith to reach out, a hand against Shiro's cheek. He climbs onto Shiro's lap, nestling his face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply, sending a shiver down Shiro's spine. Keith's mouth ghosts kisses along Shiro's jugular, down his collarbone.

"Keith," Shiro's voice is a broken whisper that hides a warning of people can see us.

Then Shiro spots him, the Galra who was always watching Keith so closely. He had seen him before, how his gaze always followed Keith; determined and downright possessive and it rubbed Shiro the wrong way every time. Keith had assured him that the guy had never overstepped his boundaries, even if he had made his intentions clear.

Shiro no longer had any doubts on who Keith really wanted, not with him so eager and pliant in his lap. He knew who Keith claimed, and Shiro was determined to let this Galra know as well.

Shiro ran a hand up Keith's back, scratching lightly as he made his way up to raven locks. He pulls him back with a rough jerk, eyes glittering darkly as he's forced to meet Shiro's gaze.

"That Galra is looking at you again," Shiro leans in to whisper. His other hand runs its way up Keith's inner thigh, gripping tightly and dangerously close to his groin.

Keith growls a muffled, "Let him," and his mouth once more starts to assault Shiro's neck, determined to leave marks where they'd definitely get him in trouble. Shiro's grip on his thigh is tantalizing, so close to where Keith wants it to be and he cannot help but whine as he tries to grind himself against Shiro's body. He's rewarded by Shiro tugging his hair, pulling him back into a deep kiss instead.

Shiro makes eye contact with the man watching. The Galra's distaste is clear as he quickly finishes his drink and turns his back towards the other member of the Blades. Shiro smirks in triumph, Yeah, that's right. He’s mine..

He scoops Keith up into his arms, carrying him towards the back hallways where they could be alone. He knows if he does not find a secluded place, Keith will pounce, but he is all but occupied in trying to occupy Shiro's mouth. Shiro hurries down the dark corridor, finding an empty sleeping chamber that slides open at their approach.

Just as he predicted, Keith all but springs from Shiro's arms the moment the doors slide shut behind them -- hands swiftly sliding Shiro's shirt up and off, just short of a whirlwind with his eagerness.

Shiro slows his pace, taking Keith's face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Keith adjusts and starts removing his own shirt, since Shiro clearly isn't, and begins to work at Shiro's pants when his hands are seized.

"It looks like your patience needs some work," Shiro smirks.

"I've been patient. This is the first time I've seen you in weeks," Keith grumbles half-heartedly, attempting to remove his hands from Shiro's grip.

"All the more reason to take this slow," Shiro leads him towards the bed, “I’m not going anywhere. Just tell me what you need from me.”

The statement ignites something within Keith, a new type of longing tingling across his nerves. Keith shivers slightly at the cold air. Words were never his strong point, and he finds himself unable to articulate what exactly he wants besides the other man’s hands on his body.

Shiro looks Keith over intently, admiring the lithe and muscular body before him. He maneuvers himself on top of Keith, straddling him, and then leans down to kiss along his throat. Keith does not hesitate to try and grind up against Shiro's weight even with the awkward angle, yet the friction isn't enough. Shiro's kisses work their way down his neck, and Keith can't help but curse when he reaches his nipple and begins to lick at the bud. Keith arches his back involuntarily, a soft moan escaping his lips.

Shiro continues to kiss down Keith's ribs, along his waist, across his stomach. He worships the body beneath him, coveting how incredible it was to have him all to himself.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Shiro murmurs against Keith's hipbone, before sliding his leggings down to kiss along his thigh.

"Hardly," Keith mumbles, ignoring the rush of heat along his cheeks, always weak for Shiro’s compliments. He's aware he hasn’t been doing anything but drowning in Shiro, too distracted by his racing heart and takes this moment to drag his nails down Shiro's back and cup his rear, eliciting moans that burn into Keith's own groin.

"Oh, how I've missed you, baby," Shiro's breath is warm against Keith's aching cock, and when he mouths at the fabric separating skin Keith's fingers have woven into Shiro's hair, gripping tightly to hold him in place.

"Mmm, you know how I love when you call me baby.” Keith croons.

Shiro slides his hands under the waistband of Keith's underwear, warm and tantalizing close to his cock. Keith squirms in response, wanting to gain any sort of contact now that he was fully exposed. Before he can think about moving, Shiro takes him in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down.

“Mmmh, oh Shiro—” Keith had longed for this moment for weeks while he was aboard a ship light years away, in the moments between sleep and wake his every thought had been consumed by Shiro. Now he was here, with him, being consumed in a different manner.

Shiro catches Keith’s gaze as he works, watching as his face softens its intensity with each gentle moan. Keith bucks his hips, shoving himself deeper into Shiro’s throat when his tongue runs along the slit.

Keiths feels himself coming undone, heat building and chest heaving. He’s close, so close to the edge—

Shiro pulls back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before he moves up to claim Keith’s mouth.

“Baby, I’m so close. Please,” Keith whines, the ache between his thighs incessant.

Shiro works himself out of his own underwear, smirking against the other’s jaw as he lines up their cocks together. Keith’s is still slick with spit, and Shiro carefully wraps his hands around them both. He pumps up and down, slowly building up speed. Their lips meet again, fierce with hunger for each other as their pleasure builds.

“Sh-Shiro, I’m gonna—” Keith gasps as Shiro quickens his pace, coming almost at the same time.

They ride out the waves of pleasure, panting softly. Shiro collapses into the bed beside Keith, absentmindedly rubbing circles into Keith’s hip. He knows they should clean themselves up, make themselves decent at the very least, yet Keith clings to him in a way that meant not now.

Shiro decides they’ll stay there as long as Keith needs to, safe in their orbit once more.

#I’m only a little sorry this isn’t ffxiv related #but here’s my brainrot smutty garbage piece okay bye #not ff #vld fanfic #sheith #shiro x keith #voltron legendary defenders #my writing #keith kogane #takashi shirogane

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souppretzel · 7 months

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my brain trying to converge a VLD/RNM au, somebody take me out the back and shoot me in the head

#k but consider #Oasis takes the mantle of Altea #crashed and burned under Jones’ reign of terror #our golden trio are enclosed in pods #like the Altean ones in Voltron but lets keep the Roswell egg pods for the Vibe #they retain most but not all memories #they are awakened by the arrival of five humans who will become their new Paladins #Liz Kyle Maria Alex and Rosa #Rosa’s been missing for years and Liz has made it her mission to find her #very much Keith finding Shiro #she stumbles upon the pod with Rosa in it #which leads to the Oasian equivalent of the Voltron lions #through a series of shenanigans our other human besties are with Liz at the time of the discovery #thinking maybe they’re getting together for the anniversary of Rosa’s disappearance and Freaky Alien Shit happens #and they’re compelled to follow #Project Shephard plays the Garrison role in trying to also find the alien tech #I need to shut the fuck up #roswell new mexico #voltron #if you got this far I’m so sorry

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night-stone-canadian · 9 months

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I’m fighting the devil out here

#I’m sorry but brogane is so annoying #shiro is a disaster 20 something #stop making him a dad #resurrecting five year old beef lol #voltron #Shiro #keith (voltron)#vld

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blankinsidecards · 9 months

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I finally, after all these years, got through the final season of Voltron

#it was better than I expected #being so now far removed from how intense the discourse was back then it really seems like a pretty normal way to have ended the show #even pretty satisfactory #especially watching it now KNOWING that klance isn’t gonna happen it takes a lot of pressure off of everything #I’m still pretty annoyed with how they handled everything with Lance #and the last minute aborted plot lines between Keith and Acxa was pretty funny given the context of the fandom’s climate at the time #still funny to me that out of all the queer coded characters they made SHIRO canonically gay alsjssjsj like good for him but what #sorry for voltron posting in the year 2023 #NOW if anyone has any good post finale klance fic recommendations… hmu #voltron

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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When Shiro hears news of his mother’s death, his first thought is good riddance.

His second thought is fuck. Loudly, and repeated many times in his head. And out loud. In the middle of the night, sitting straight up in bed, startling his fiancé awake.

“T’kashi?” he mutters, eye squinted as he blindly pays the bedside table for his glasses. “What’s going on?”

Shiro’s mouth works on autopilot. “It’s my mother.”

As it always does when she is brought up, which is frequently due to her many life decisions, Adam’s face wrinkles as if he just bit into something very sour.

“Oh. What the fuck is she up to now?”

“Uh, the afterlife.”

Adam’s face freezes. Shiro chokes down hysterical laughter. It doesn’t work, and comes out kind of reedy and strangled.

“Mr. Shirogane,” comes the tinny voice from his phone, and Shiro startles.

“Oh, shit, yes. Sorry. Um. I wanted to ask about my brother. Where is he? When can I pick him up?”

There’s a hesitance from the other end that Shiro doesn’t like. He sits up straighter, if at all possible, and Adam’s face hardens — it has been a four year long fight, with his mother, to try to get Keith over as often as possible for even an ounce of stability, and not a fight they have won very frequently, but it is not one they’re willing to give up. Shiro has no doubt that the state will fight just as hard as his mother did.

Adam and Shiro will simply fight harder.

“The safety of the child is the state’s first concern,” the lawyer says neutrally.

“Great. Give me an address and twenty minutes, then, and I’ll bring him right home.”

The lawyer’s voice is steely. “He is home, with a lovely young couple who are happy to have him.”

“There is a lovely young couple who he is related to and whom he has familiarity with right here,” Shiro grits out. “Tell me where my brother is.”

The lawyer waits a moment. “It might be a difficult transition, you know. It would be nice for Keith to have a mother and a father, for once.”

Before Shiro can even blink, a hand reaches over and snatches the phone right from his face, and Adam throws it open onto the bedspread, presses speaker, and sets off.

“You listen here, you gristly assed motherfucker. Takashi has the right of next of kin. Failing proof of neglect or abuse, which you have tried and failed to invent on our end so many times the court as all but banned you from trying again, Keith is legally required to be placed in our home should Shirogane Saori be found incapable of care. And, as you can imagine, lying on a table in a morgue renders one quite incapable. If you don’t provide an address clearly and concisely in the next fifteen seconds, I will sue not only you and your firm, but you mother, your father, your children, and you dusty tailor, you ugly brown suit wearing hetero. Are we understood?”

There’s another stretch of silence, wherein despite the gravity of the situation Shiro considers proposing to his fiancé again, before the lawyer finally speaks.

“…Group home on 4th and King.”

“Thank you,” Adam says tersely, and slams the phone closed. He scoffs at it. “Fucking jackass. Someone should kill him.”

Shiro snorts. Then he giggles. Then he starts laughing, and then he can’t stop, and he laughs so hard tears come to his eyes, and then they don’t stop, either, and his breath hitches and a lump forms in his throat and his whole face starts to get itchy. Adam pulls him into him immediately, cradling him into his lap like he’s a child, and he goes without resistance because it’s Adam doing to holding, and because he doesn’t know where this sadness is coming from. He has hated his mother for more years than he has loved her. The only time he’s thanked her for anything in the last eight years was one he held Keith in the hospital, skipping his first day of high school to do it. She has been crueler than kind to him for most of his life.

But she was his mother, in many ways. In all ways except the ones that mattered. And apparently that counts for something.

“We need to go,” Shiro whispers, trying to lift his head. Adam gently presses it back into his neck, holding his arms around him.

“It’s four in the morning, starshine. Maybe we wait a few hours?”

“No.” The hoarseness of his own voice makes him wince. “He can’t…Adam, I don’t even like my mother, and look at me. Keith is going to be inconsolable. She carted him around like a baby doll. He loved her.”

Adam winces. He knows it’s true as much as Shiro does. Their mother’s erratic lifestyle has gifted Keith an assortment of attachment issues, as evidenced by the tantrums whenever she dropped him off at their apartment when she was bored.

Not that Keith understands the issue. Because he is four, and because he has gone through more things in his four years of life than many children will before they are even ten, but not enough to stop thinking his mother is the most important person on Earth.

Quickly they dress, shoving in whatever clothes are near without worrying about looking presentable. They don’t bother with much more than brushing their teeth, skipping shaving and breakfast and coffee in favour of speeding to the parking garage.

It only takes them fifteen minutes to get to the group home the lawyer has mentioned, and they waste no time in rushing up the steps, uncaring of social norms or etiquette as they ring the doorbell and stand fidgeting at the front door.

It takes a long time for the door to open. Shiro can’t help feeling like that is intentional.

“What,” barks the man at the door, as if their intent isn’t expressly obvious given the circumstance.

“I’m here to pick up my brother,” Shiro says as politely as he can manage. “Keith?”

“He’s sleeping,” says the man, who Shiro presumes is one of the foster parents running the home. “Come back tomorrow.” He tries to slam the door shut, but before he can register his own movement Shiro is slamming his hand against the door. The wood cracks under his palm.

He doesn’t bother saying anything. He doesn’t have it in him. He simply shoves the door open, sending the man stumbling, and strides in, remembering at the last second to try and keep quiet so as to not wake any other sleeping children. It takes him three tries to find the right room, but when he finally swings open the right door he knows, from the very second he sees the lump of blankets on the bottom bunk in the far right corner. He stands frozen for a moment at the door, watching his baby brother breathe, seeing the dried tear tracks on his face, the stutter of his breaths and shake of his chest. His thumb is firmly in his mouth, a habit he’s had broken for two years.

Shiro’s eyes begin to leak again. He feels Adam squeeze his bicep once in comfort, then wordlessly he walks off, gathering the messy scattering of Keith’s things into a large backpack. Trusting him to know or guess what belongs to his brother — all largely things they’ve bought him — Shiro approaches the bed, kneeling carefully at the edge of it. He reaches out and brushes Keith’s hair out of his face, gliding his thumb across his forehead. It wrinkles as Keith wakes, squinting his eyes up at Shiro in grogginess and confusion. It takes him a moment to register what’s going on, but Shiro knows the exact second it does, because his indigo eyes go blank the way they do when Keith is so far overwhelmed he can’t even come close to starting to process how he feels. Shiro braces himself for whatever vitriol, likely directly quoted from their mother, is about to come out of his mouth.

“I don’t want you,” Keith cries. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, cracked and strained; a long, keening cry. His face twists up and he glares at Shiro in what can only be described as betrayal, as if it’s Shiro’s fault their mother is gone, as if it was Shiro’s evil plan to take her away forever so he can never go back.

He wouldn’t even be surprised if that’s what their mother has told him. It hurts anyway.

“I know,” he chokes out, hushed. He brushes his thumb over Keith’s forehead again, slow, from temple to temple, and to his surprise his brother leans into it slightly as his breaths hitch with sobs. “I know, baby.”

He exchanges a look with Adam, who, God Shiro loves him so much, understands immediately: they have ten minutes.

Two years ago, when their mother dropped Keith off at his doorstep one day and fucked off to Atlanta for a week, Shiro decided enough was enough. Keith was convinced she was coming back to get him every morning and was devastated when she didn’t. It was an endless, sisyphian cycle. Shiro took the day off school, took his limited funds, and brought Keith to a paediatric specialist. It was of course not the most thorough evaluation, as that was something that could only be done with time, but there was almost definitely some valuable input. Shiro learned, in harried, layman’s terms, that their mother’s flakiness meant Keith always believed he was about to be left behind. Her babying of him lead him to believe that he was at fault when that happened. When he was actually happened, he was prone to tears and affection, trying to win back his mother, trying to prove that he was a good enough baby doll for her, basically.

And if that doesn’t work…well. Then the hurt and the anger start, and God knows how long it will last.

“Ten minutes,” Adam mutters, stuffing one last thing into the backpack and shoving it over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Taking the blanket with him, because fuck these guys, Shiro lifts his baby brother up, holding him tightly to himself, pressing his face into his neck. He starts to powerwalk down the hallway back to the front door, Adam close behind him. He vaguely hears the same man who opened the door start to argue with them, start to try to stop them, and he trusts Adam to handle it, because all he can hear in his head is a countdown. If they don’t make it to the car in time and Keith starts really wailing, they are going to take him away, and Shiro knows he will never get fucking visiting rights because the family court system is the most broken thing in America, and Keith will be shoved into some random group home that doesn’t care about him and won’t care about him and he’ll be treated like shit or worse not treated like anything at all, and he will grow up thinking that there is no one who loves him and no one to turn to and Shiro will never forgive himself or his mother or the world.

He needs to get his brother to the car.

He rushes down the beaten down concrete steps as fast as he can while still being careful in the dark. The car is half a block away, the only place they could find parking, and he starts to jog, ignoring the ache in his arms. He’s held Keith for longer. At the seven minute mark, he registers yelling voices and a door slam and Adam’s rapid footsteps behind him, and by the ninth they make it to their beat up piece of shit fourth-hand car, throwing open the back door, setting Keith down gently, bucking the kid in as quickly as they can manage.

Shiro has lost count of how much time they have, if they have any at all. His heart pounds so rapidly he can feel it everywhere in his body. He’s bitten the inside of his cheek so harshly he can taste blood. He feels like he’s gonna throw up.

He’s barely thrown a seatbelt on by the time Adam shifts into gear and tears out onto the busy street, cars honking at him. Shiro meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, trying to find strength in his look, in his support. He tries to tell himself that the worst part is over, now; Keith is with him, beside him in the back seat, Keith is going to stay with him forever, now, he is going to make his baby brother’s life stable from now on. They are starting to swim their way out of the deep end.

And then the wailing starts.

It’s loud. Keith takes a huge, deep breath, then lets out a noise that Shiro can only describe as agonised, so big and heavy that it pulls on his little body, straining against the seatbelt. His face is bright red from the force of it, and Shiro can count his teeth with how wide open his mouth is. Bizarrely, Shiro wonders if he’s loud enough for the windows to break, or their eardrums. He’s not sure if his own pain comes from his ears or his heart.

“I want my mama!” Keith sobs, shouts, screams, cries. “I want my mama! I want my mama!”

“I know,” Shiro whispers again, for what feels like the millionth time that night. Between Keith’s stuttering breaths Shiro hears Adam’s soft cries, looks up to see tears streaming down his face. He’s surprised to find his own face dry as a bone, the lump in his throat he’d felt earlier completely disintegrated. He feels hollowed out. “I know, Akira. I know. I know.”

Shiro wonders if this is what it feels like to drown.

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