Okay, this is the last of the vld work that's on my ao3 but isn't here, so I'm just going to post it all at once.

Post season 6 when I was dying of feels (still am). Title's from Gorillaz- Fire Flies


It's a long way home. Keith's weariness only makes the trip stretch out for much longer, seemingly endless, but he doesn't mind it, not in the least, not when Shiro's body - the real Shiro - is curled into his own as he pilots Black with only one hand.

The steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting in Keith's arm, as is Shiro's warm breath fanning a patch of skin that's bare in his neck. He's been unconscious since they took off, and Krolia had only half-heartedly offered to look after him, fully aware that Keith would decline.

His arm tightens around Shiro unconsciously, pulling him closer, and beneath Keith's palm, his heart beats, beautifully alive.

Krolia sits somewhere behind his seat, methodically sharpening a blade that doesn't need any sharpening, but it's only an act, a way to keep her focus somewhere but on them. Keith is deeply grateful for that and for what feels like the tenth time in a minute, resists the urge to dip his head down and bury his nose in Shiro's hair or kiss his forehead.

Their pet wolf struts to his side, peering up at him with his ever expressive eyes. Keith smiles down at him, releases the control to give his midnight fur a good ruffle, scratches him beneath the chin, and the actions seem to quench his need for attention. With a slight wag of his tail, he walks towards Krolia and lies by her side with his characteristic heavy sigh, settling down for a nap.

Keith takes a moment to check their trajectory and shares a few words with the rest of the team before turning off communication and slumping slightly on his seat. He knows Black will keep on moving in a straight line, so he allows himself to wrap both arms around Shiro and get him as close as he possibly can.

The seat is small for the both of them, Shiro on his lap, legs dangling off the side. Keith glides his fingertips along his bare arm, wistfully wishing his hands could be bare as well so he could feel the warmth of Shiro's skin against his own. They ghost over his neck and touch his hair with care. It will take some time getting used to the new color, but Keith would love him all the same, even if he dyed his hair electric blue.

Whatever color is fine, as long as it's Shiro that's with him.

Keith touches his sharp jaw, strokes along it with his thumb from chin to ear, staring at the motion with half-lidded eyes. He did really say that, did really voice his thoughts aloud. He wonders briefly if Shiro somehow remembers them, if Shiro knows he will go to great lengths to ensure he's safe. Keith will do anything to keep him from harm, will do anything and everything in his power to make Shiro happy.

His heart aches in a good way, somehow, and Keith faintly feels like he could cry in relief.

He looks up at the controls, reaches out for his friends, once again makes sure they haven't strayed off path. It seems redundant, but Keith wants to get to Earth as soon as possible so Shiro can rest on a real bed, however dusty his modest shack in the desert is after long months of abandonment.

When he looks back down, Shiro is awake. It catches Keith off guard, but he masks it well and takes in the clearness of his eyes, as if Shiro hadn't been sleeping for the past hour. Keith smiles down at him, feeling somewhat shy, and whispers. "Hey."

Shiro breathes in deeply, lets it out in a long sigh and curls his lips. "Hey."

The smile is small and just as intimate as the way they gaze at each other. Keith traces it with the pad of his thumb and Shiro's lips part as his eyes slip shut. "How are you feeling?"

Behind them, Krolia doesn't show signs that she can hear them in the quietness of the cockpit interlaced with strokes of metal on stone.

"Tired," Shiro says with a huff of breath that Keith takes as a laugh. "Sorta feels like I'm jetlagged."

Keith chuckles, sweeps his thumb along a silver eyebrow. "Go back to sleep, Shiro."

"I don't want to." His hand lifts from where it rests over his stomach and slowly travels to Keith's chest, pressing flat and soft on his sternum. "I haven't seen you in so long."

Never before had Keith seen Shiro's big hands as anything close to delicate, but in the state he's in now, that's what it seems like. The touch is featherlight, his movements are slow. He's exhausted in ways Keith can't describe, and he finds comfort in knowing that now he's back where he belongs.

He takes his hand, feels his knuckles beneath his thumb. No amount of touching Shiro seems to be enough. It had never been, but now in the wake of everything, stopping seems impossible.

Keith kisses his knuckles, turns his hand over so he can plant his lips on his palm. Shiro's eyes widen and then drop, suspiciously bright and watery. "Sleep." He presses again, and his heart swells with affection at the way Shiro looks at him. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."