.
.
The public funeral service of Matthew Holt and Dr. Samuel Holt, and of Takashi Shirogane — according to all of the high-ranking commanding officers — has the largest military and civilian turnout that the Galaxy Garrison has ever seen. Maybe in decades.
Keith has avoided as much of other people's sympathy and concerns as he can. He skips meals, dedicating his free time to the self-training fighting simulators and his workload with the leftover projects and assignments. Ut's about cranking up the difficulty levels until it feels like Keith's body and mind could break, not bend, under the rigorous stress.
He archives Shiro's photos into his personal Garrison-accredited database and their paired-up selfies, not able to emotionally shoulder the possibility of accidentally finding them.
Like everybody else during the service, on their feet and crowded together below the stage, Keith holds a single white rose in his hands, drowning out Iverson's speech about bravery and loss with Keith's heart pounding deafeningly in his ears. His skin feels damp and tacky with perspiration, but Keith feels an icy-chill piercing through him. From behind him, Adam grasps Keith's shoulders benevolently, firmly.
"I'm here, Keith…"
But… Shiro isn't. And that's why they're all here, in the center of it, murmuring their prayers and the names of the fallen with the sweltering heat beating down on their heads.
Keith's tongue gets swollen and dry. His vision whirls. He wants to tell Adam to go away and take Keith's own grief with him, before Keith goes limp. He blacks out and droops into Adam's careful, reassuring hands, overhearing him shouting for a paramedic.
Dehydration. Lack of nutrients. Stress.
Breaking, not bending.
Adam's thick, brown-gloved fingers skim attentively over Keith's temple, his left cheek. "Shiro doesn't want this for you," he murmurs grimly, looking down on him. The sunlight reflects the furthermost edge of Adam's lenses, straining Keith's eyes.
It doesn't matter. Shiro vanished among the stars, into the beautiful, gaping abyss, where nobody can tell him he's too stubborn for his own good or too ill to be daring.
He took everything with him.
Keith tries to replace the loss with his fists and blood and Adam, being cornered into a hallway wall and drooling over three, ashy brown fingers, getting them excessively spit-sticky. He jolts and makes a soft, whimpering noise Keith is sure he can be embarrassed about later, digging his forehead onto the wall, parting his legs instinctively/ Adam's hand slips under his cadet-trousers and presses gently between his buttocks.
One of Adam's fingers traces his hole, corkscrewing and testing Keith's initial resistance before pushing. Keith's rim stretches open for him gradually, taking Adam's middle finger all of the way up until the hilt, until his palm naturally cups Keith's ass.
It burns more than it feels good. Keith tries to move the finger around inside him, to ease the pressure, inhaling shakily and rocking his hips, and then Adam flattens him completely against the wall. "Just breathe, okay, Keith?" Adam whispers into his ear, reaching around and fondling Keith's cock in his boxers, rubbing on the tip.
His finger remains inserted deep as it can go until Keith's passage slowly relaxes, Adam's thumb-pad massaging the outside of Keith's oversensitive, little hole.
Adam stops jacking him at an effortless and loose pace, forcing Keith to bend over and expose his taint and his puckered hole even further. When soft lips and teeth and the warm, wet slide of a tongue lands on his rim, plunging an inch or two, Keith heaves out a whining cry down towards the floor, blushing darkly from his neck to his scalp.
How is that… so good…
Keith's legs keep trembling to support him. Adam tongue-fucks his ass like it's nothing new to him, caressing Keith's sides and his hips, encouraging him to calm down.
Shiro… …
He shuts his eyes, bracing his forearms against the wall and feeling his cock hardening up and sore, imagining his best friend holding him and kissing him, licking inside him like Adam is and… Keith is sure Adam does the same thing, imagining Shiro.
Shiro would take care of him.
Them.
Keith bumps his nasal-bone against the wall, squishing his face. He yells out high-pitched through his first orgasm with someone else, his cock spurting and twitching empty onto Adam's fingers.
Shiro will come home.
.
.
Voltron isn't mine. Another fic for Voltron Bingo! This time it's for "Vulnerability" and I don't know why I decided to do Adeith but here we are lmao I did it anyway it's a NSFW genre bingo card and I have a migraine so Imma end it here thanks for reading and deuces! Leave a comment/thought if you feel like it!