Written for Day 27 of Sheith Month: Knowledge.

I'd been wanting to write them a soulmate AU again. I had this new twist of a soulmate AU in mind. Then they added a slight complication and this got longer than intended. Again. Ah well, I'm happy with it all the same!

"Hey there, Commander Hendricks sent me."

Keith looked up at the other cadet dubiously. He was smiling brightly, his forelock falling almost over one eye.

"I'm Shiro." he said, undaunted, holding out his hand.

Keith blinked. "I'm Keith. . ." he replied, clasping the offered hand. Shiro shook it, then sat down opposite Keith before releasing his hand. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hendricks said you beat one of my flight records." Shiro said cheerfully, and Keith nodded slowly, watching him warily. "He suggested I might be able to offer you some study help with other areas."

Keith scowled, shoving his papers into his open book and then picking it and the others up. "I'm fine." he said shortly as he rose and-

"Hey!" Shiro had hold of his arm, tugging him back towards the table. "Hey, I didn't mean anything bad by it. I just want to help. It sucks studying alone." He smiled slightly. "I'd like to talk to you, anyway. Most cadets come here great at something and having to catch up in everything else - but flying is usually not what they start out good at. You came in and flew like you'd already breezed through the pilot courses."

Keith slowly sank back down to the table, watching Shiro, his eyebrows raised.

"I saw your records, and," Shiro coughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I saw you flying last week. I was helping out in the hangar, and. . . You were amazing."

Keith couldn't help smiling a little. "I . . . like flying." he admitted cautiously. "You," he paused, "don't mind that a first year broke your record?"

Shiro's smile widened. "I love flying." he confided. "It's almost the best part about this place. And no, I think it's awesome!"

Keith relaxed a little, and let his books slide back onto the table, opening the one he'd been referring to before Shiro interrupted. "Flying is the best part." he argued, and Shiro just smiled at him.

"So what are you working on right now?" Shiro asked, sitting up a little straighter and peering down at Keith's books. His mouth twisted, but he tilted the paper so Shiro could see his muddled notes.

Keith startled, lifting his head from where he'd been leaning into his palm, having half dozed off from the mind-numbing dullness of the book he was attempting to forge through for Santos' history of spaceflight class. The tap at his door came again, and Keith pushed away from his desk, frowning.

He was surprised when he opened the door to find Shiro there.

"Ah, Shiro, you. . ."

"You never showed up." Shiro frowned at him, giving him a reproachful look. "Is everything okay?" he asked, looking Keith over, then past him and into his room.

". . .yes." Keith said, raising an eyebrow.

"We were supposed to study together today, don't you remember?" Shiro asked, stepping forwards. He had an armful of books and a tablet balanced on top of them.

Keith would never forget when he was supposed to meet up with Shiro. "Of course." he said, frowning, and closed the door behind Shiro.

"Why didn't you come, then?" Shiro asked, putting his books down by Keith's on the desk and turning to face him. "Didn't you want to work with me on those atmospheric formulae?"

"I. . ." Keith coughed. "Holt was saying something about needing you for a project, so I knew you needed time for that." He waved a hand, trying to dismiss the issue. "Did you finish it?" he asked.

Shiro blinked at him. "I can help Matt some other time, and anyway it's not a joint project, it's just something he wanted some help with. I told him I had plans with you already." He frowned. "You thought I would bail on you?"

"Well, I mean. He's your friend." Keith shrugged, looking down and flipping over a page in his open notebook.

"You're my friend, too, Keith." Shiro said earnestly, clasping his shoulders, and Keith jumped, eyes widening. "And I really like studying with you, even when we aren't working on the same things." he added with a smile. "So don't think I'll cancel on you unless I really have to, all right?"

Keith smiled slightly, cocking his head to one side. "Okay." he agreed.

Shiro drew back again, his hands leaving warm patches on Keith's shoulder which he couldn't help but focus on. "And let me know next time if you need to bail!" he said, lightly swatting Keith's arm. "I was worried!"

Keith boggled a little, and had to catch up as Shiro moved to the desk and started outlining what he had planned to work on tonight, and asking what Keith needed to focus on and what he'd already done.

There was no need for Shiro to worry about him - he'd been fine tonight, he was always fine; he'd never needed anyone else to worry over him, just taken care of himself - but . . . Keith smiled slightly, a light flush rising to his cheeks. It was still . . . kind of nice that Shiro would.

Keith hung back as a man wearing commanders' bars and some other insignia he didn't immediately recognise - he and Shiro had gone over this only a few weeks ago, he knew it was in his head somewhere, and he dredged through trying to remember - strode past with Commander Iverson.

He peeked around the corner as he heard them addressing someone and-

"Shirogane!" Iverson barked. "This is Commander Ryu from the missions wing! He's here to inspect some of our more promising cadets. You will not disappoint him!"

Of course it was Shiro. Keith snorted.

"Yes, Sir!" Shiro said smartly, saluting, and Keith's lips twitched. Shiro was always so poised around the Commanders, every bit the golden boy they called him around the Garrison dorms. "I'm Shirogane Takashi, Sir, it's an honour to meet you."

Keith's arm tingled, then felt briefly like it was burning, and he forced himself to remain perfectly still, his eyes widening. He knew what it was - what it had to be, right there on his left arm. He stared at Shiro, at his friend, and his heart leapt and clenched tight at once. He didn't hear anything else any of the three said, and backed away, turning and breaking into a run.

"Hey! Kogane! What the heck man?"

Keith ignored the stridently complaining voice - he might have run into one of his fellow cadets on his way, he'd barely noticed. He pelted towards the dorms, needing to be alone, needing- Needing to look.

As soon as his back was to his own closed door, Keith fumbled with his sleeve and his glove, dropping the latter on the floor. He flicked on the lights belatedly but his wrist already looked different, paler, less-

Where once there had been a deep blue field of night sky, contrasting the bright points of the stars forming Phoenix, now there was just . . . pale skin and a stark name. Keith slid down to the floor, his eyes wide, cradling his left wrist in his right hand, thinking of Shiro back in that corridor.

He hadn't really ever thought of the fact that he'd never heard Shiro introduce himself, say his full name. Only . . . 'I'm Shiro'.

Keith tilted his head back against the door, looking up at nothing in particular, but the new clarity of his mark, Shirogane Takashi, was still vivid in his mind even when he turned his eyes away.

"Fuck." Keith said softly, Shiro's bright, sweet smile floating in his mind.

Keith was pretty sure Shiro noticed he wasn't quite acting like himself the next time they studied together - in Shiro's room, as they usually did by now unless they knew they were going to need a lot of different references - and he scolded himself.

He needed to pull it together; Shiro knew him better than anyone and he actually cared and if Keith continued to act weird around him he would. . .

Keith glanced at his wrist, thankfully hidden by his ever-present gloves. He'd been happier keeping the constellation private, and now it was only more important - thankfully no one here had seen his wrist anyway, so it was hardly noticeable that he kept it covered even more assiduously now.

He rubbed his thumb over his wrist. He wanted to tell Shiro. Keith swallowed down the thick lump in his throat, looking up at his friend.

Shiro had been speaking, but he paused, tilting his head, his smile softening to something curious and inviting. Waiting for Keith to speak. Keith opened his mouth, then smiled slightly and shook his head, asking about something else Commander Ryu had said.

Shiro would, no doubt, have noticed and pressed Keith more if he hadn't been so excited by that talk. With good reason - Ryu was one of the people with the authority to decide who went on what missions, once they were qualified and graduated, and he had been impressed with Shiro.

That was great, and Keith was happy for his friend - but he was also fretful, thinking of Shiro off on a mission without him.

Keith sighed, stifling a laugh at himself. He . . . maybe should have wondered, before he heard Shiro say his own name and trigger the mark's shift, if. . .

Shiro had been special to Keith since they met.

"Oh, hell, Keith!" Shiro was yelling, Keith realised somewhat foggily. Shiro was yelling quite angrily. And cursing. That was odd. "Keith, can you hear me?"

Of course Keith could hear him, he was shouting, what even.

He tried to tell Shiro this, but it . . . came out as a muddled mess. His brow furrowed.

"All right." Shiro said, a little quieter, and then his hands slid down Keith's arm. He sighed, relaxing a little, then tensed as he remembered why-

"Sh'ro, no, it's-" Keith got out, but Shiro's fingers were already working his glove off.

Keith whined, cringing away. Shiro's fingers had gone still on his skin, and Keith knew why, even with his head pounding and foggy. He was looking at the stark, unmistakable black lines of a name on Keith's wrist, proclaiming that he'd found his soulmate.

Keith wouldn't have cared what Shiro saw, if his wrist didn't boldly proclaim Shirogane Takashi where there had once been a field of deep blue with pale stars picking out the constellation Phoenix.

"Keith. . ." Shiro's voice was thin. "Hey, stay with me." he said after a moment, a little firmer, and gently squeezed down Keith's forearm, flexing his wrist and clasping his hand. Keith's breath caught as pain lanced up his arm to his shoulder. "It's not broken but I think you've got a pretty nasty sprain. Damn."

Keith opened his eyes and found the gym ceiling. It was a fairly familiar ceiling. Shiro leaned into Keith's field of vision a moment later. "Hey, look at me, Keith!" Shiro said urgently, and Keith realised he'd closed his eyes again.

"Shiro?" Keith winced, his head pounding. "What happened?" he asked, remembering a round-robin spar training session, but . . . he'd won his matches. He always won his matches. Except from time to time with Shiro, but even then. . .

"Parson and Markov jumped you from behind after you won the match." Shiro bit out, his usually soft eyes gone cold.

"Is that what happened?"

Keith flinched at the sharp voice.

"Kero, shut up. Cadet, can you focus on me?" Someone unfamiliar leaned over Keith. Someone wearing white. He nodded shallowly and his head protested.

"Keith." Shiro supplied, and he nodded, then turned his attention back to Keith's face.

"Keith, I'm Doctor Jang." The man's eyes narrowed as he looked Keith over. "Does anything hurt aside from your head and your wrist?"

"Nothing bad." Keith said weakly.

"Cadet, move off." Doctor Jang said firmly, and Shiro began to protest, then backed away. "Does 'nothing bad' mean 'I can stand it' or 'only bruises from my earlier matches'?" he asked, and Keith nodded, then hesitated, aware that wasn't an acceptable answer to options. "Bruises?" He nodded again.

"Do you think you can sit up?"

Keith paused, cataloguing. "Yes." he said, and the doctor clasped his right hand and worked an arm behind his shoulders, helping him up. Shiro was kneeling a few paces away, watching him with wide, worried eyes.

Commander Kero, who taught Keith's advanced combat courses, had everyone else lined up near the wall and was lecturing in a sharp, quiet snap. Keith liked Commander Kero, although she'd nearly broken his nose in his first class with her.

He'd thought she hated him - she wouldn't have been the first instructor to take an instant dislike to Keith - but she'd offered him a hand up and started laughing with a fierce little grin. Then she'd assigned him to an entirely new drill routine that had made him feel like he was dying by the end of the class.

Doctor Jang got Keith to his feet - he wobbled a little - and supported him from one side as Shiro, unasked, came to duck under his other arm. His head was bowed and his eyes fixed on. . .

Keith swallowed hard. Shiro was looking at his injured left wrist, which was in front of Doctor Jang as he held Keith's forearm, keeping him from moving it. Keith winced and bowed his head, closing his eyes and focusing on not throwing up as he let the two of them guide him through the corridors to the infirmary. He kept his head down and stared firmly at his knees once he was sitting on an exam table.

"Thank you Cadet. . ."

"Shirogane, Sir." Shiro supplied quickly. "Er, can I- Only, Keith's my friend, and. . ."

"You may go." Doctor Jang said firmly, to Keith's guilty relief. "Your friend will be fine, but I don't need you cluttering up my exam room, and he'll have to stay here for a while in any case. Thank you for your help."

"I. . . All right. I'll see you tomorrow, Keith?" Shiro said softly, and Keith looked up at him, startled. He looked almost hopeful, his eyes darkened to an almost stormy grey.

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it, not quite sure what to say. He nodded tentatively.

Then Doctor Jang gestured Shiro out and closed the door.

"Keith!"

Keith's breath caught and he almost dropped his books. He turned on his heel and darted the opposite direction but-

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" Shiro gentled his grip on Keith's arm, which had landed just above the solid brace stabilising his wrist until the ligament healed, but caught him with an arm around the waist - he froze - before he could pull away. "Keith, hey, you- Look at me, please?" he asked, and his voice was soft and almost sad.

Keith looked up before he could stop himself, meeting mist-grey eyes and a tentative smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Shiro said, looking guilty. "You've been avoiding me for a week," his eyes were definitely sad now, and Keith felt a stab of guilt, "and I just- I needed to talk to you."

"I'm sorry." Keith said softly, looking away. Shiro's arm was warm against his belly and he pulled away from the touch, just a little, only to meet the wall at his back.

"I. . . I missed you, too." Shiro said, and Keith felt a stab in his chest at the same time as a soaring warmth rushed through him. "I know it was only. . . But I guess," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I see you all the time. And I . . . like it." He smiled faintly.

"I'm sorry." Keith said again, wincing and shaking his head. He'd felt it like losing a piece of himself to stay away from Shiro, and had felt even worse when he'd seen Shiro trying to catch him and had kept ducking away.

And it had nothing to do with the mark - the name, now - on his wrist.

"Keith, why-" Shiro broke off, looking down the corridor. "Can . . . we talk in your room? Or. . ."

Keith's breath caught. He hesitated, then stepped sideways - Shiro let him go, though his fingers curled against Keith's side before he stilled and brought his arm back. Keith nodded, beckoning with his good hand as he shifted the books he held under his arm.

Keith was hyperaware of Shiro's presence at his heels as Shiro trailed after him.

He stopped nervously at his own door, his toes curling in his boots. Then he entered the code and stepped inside, moving aside to let Shiro follow him in, focusing on putting his books into the proper places on the desk as though it mattered.

He heard the door close behind Shiro.

"Keith?" Shiro said softly, and Keith steeled himself and turned to face his friend.

"Are. . ." Shiro frowned, his hands curling tight at his sides. "Are you . . . upset?" he asked, and Keith's brows drew together. Shiro nodded towards Keith's wrist, held awkwardly in front of himself to accommodate the brace. "You've been avoiding me . . . is it because," he paused, lips pressing together, "you're upset about. . ." He nodded towards Keith again.

Keith opened his mouth, then paused, biting his lip. "No, Shiro." he said softly. "No, of course not. How could I be upset that you. . ." He ducked his head, looking up at Shiro shyly through his fringe. "Are-" His mouth twisted. "Are you upset that. . ." He raised his right hand a little.

"No!" Shiro almost yelped, and Keith laughed softly. "No, I just- Why didn't you tell me? Why . . . didn't you tell me your name?" he asked, glancing away and then back to Keith.

His heart sank, cold and clenched. He shook his head.

". . .Keith?" Shiro moved closer. "You looked. . ." He pressed his lips together. "Won't you tell me your name now?" he asked, pleading, leaning in as he hesitantly took another step towards Keith.

"I- Shiro- No." Keith said, having to force out the word, feeling it in his throat like it had spikes.

Shiro's fingers twitched and he pulled his hand back a little. "No?" he repeated, his voice soft and raw. "Why- Why not? Please, let me hear your name, Keith, I- I'm not- If you aren't . . . upset, if you're . . . open to it, to me, then. . . Keith?"

"No." Keith said painfully, shaking his head, tucking his arms against his belly and curling around them.

"Please, Keith." Shiro begged, reaching out and catching Keith's right hand and his left arm, carefully avoiding jostling both his left hand and the brace. "Please, just- Please?"

"I can't!" Keith said, cringing. "It's not that I- I can't, Shiro." he said, half a sob.

"What?" Shiro asked, softer, his expression shifting with confusion.

Keith caught his breath roughly.

"Keith Kogane." he said flatly. Shiro's expression froze, then he looked down at their hands, releasing Keith's arm only to pull his own left glove down. There was a beautiful purple galaxy spread there, flecked with stars.

It was absolutely lovely, but it was not fading into Keith Kogane.

"But. . ." Shiro looked heartbroken, and Keith's breath caught in his throat. "You. . ."

"Shiro, I don't know my name." Keith said roughly, and Shiro met his eyes again.

"What? But. . ." Shiro shook his head. "Keith, you. . . Your name. . ."

"I don't know what it . . . really is. I guess I don't have one, maybe. Just. Keith." Keith said awkwardly. "I remember that, but . . . my mom's been gone for longer than I can remember, and when my dad left . . . nobody knew my name, or anything about me. Not even 'Keith', really, but I- I remembered that much." he said, shrugging one shoulder uncomfortably.

"Oh- Keith." Shiro said, and Keith startled. His voice was soft and wavering.

"Shiro?" Keith said uncertainly.

Shiro leaned into him, pulling Keith close and hugging him tight. Keith stiffened, startled, but Shiro only stroked his back comfortingly and held him tighter. Keith's breath caught. He tentatively raised his arms and closed them around Shiro's waist.

Shiro stroked the back of his head, swaying slightly. "I'm sorry, baby." he said softly, and Keith jerked, startled.

"What?" Keith said faintly. "Shiro, it's-"

"I'm sorry." Shiro said again. "That you- You went through that." He leaned back just a little, just enough to look Keith in the eye. "I didn't mean to- If I'd known I wouldn't have pressed so hard." He smiled crookedly. "Is-" he hesitated, his arms curling a little tighter around Keith. He took a step closer, pressed against Shiro's chest. "Is that why you hid it from me?" he asked, looking down at Keith's right arm, though his wrist was still resting against Shiro's back. "When it- When it changed?"

"It- It wasn't long. . ." Keith gestured weakly, then clung a little tighter to Shiro, uncertainly. "I can't- I don't have- Shiro." His voice cracked. "I can't ever-"

Shiro hushed him gently and Keith drew in a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes closed. One of Shiro's hands rubbed up and down his back, and he gave Keith an achingly light brush of a kiss that shook him as though it had been a body blow.

"Keith?" Shiro said gently after a moment. Keith took a hitching breath, not quite a sniff, and opened his eyes again, looking up.

"Sweetheart, I loved you already." Shiro said softly, cheeks flushing.

Keith's eyes widened. Shiro stroked Keith's cheekbone with his thumb. "But- I-" Keith couldn't quite make any sense come out of his mouth. And he could still feel the shadow of Shiro's lips pressed soft and warm against his own.

Shiro smiled at him, lashes wet and spiky, though he wasn't crying.

"I don't even have a name." Keith forced out, his voice raw and pained.

"It doesn't matter to me if my mark never says your name, Keith." Shiro said softly. "I know who you are, and I love you."

"Shiro. . ." Keith's fingers curled into the back of Shiro's shirt.

"Do- Do you want. . ." Shiro began, voice trembling. "I know I. . ."

"Shiro- Of course." Keith bowed his head and pressed his face against Shiro's shoulder. He hugged Shiro a little tighter, ignoring the throb of his healing wrist.

Shiro's right hand splayed between Keith's shoulder blades as he bowed his head to rest his jaw against Keith's hair.

"Keith!"

Surprised, Keith turned, looking for Shiro. He didn't have to look far, Shiro was running towards him. He caught Keith around the waist and picked him up, spinning. Keith yelped, catching hold of Shiro's shoulders, and Shiro laughed, letting him slide down just enough to meet his lips for a firm kiss.

Keith squeaked, but folded his arms behind Shiro's neck and relaxed a little in his hold.

"Well, that's my cue to leave. . ." Holt said, and Keith startled, cheeks warming. Shiro laughed quietly, a dull flush colouring his face as well. "Congratulations, Keith." Holt added, smiling, and waved a hand on his way out.

At least, Keith thought belatedly, Holt had been the only one in the room other than himself when Shiro caught him. But. . .

"Congratulations?" Keith said, raising an eyebrow. "And what was this for?" he asked, lifting one hand and gesturing at himself and Shiro's hold on him.

Shiro grinned and kissed him again, hard, and Keith twitched, surprised, then melted into it. Shiro let him down until the balls of his feet were once more on the floor, and Keith laughed, trailing his fingers over Shiro's face and down his neck.

"Yes, congratulations." Shiro said, and Keith shook his head slightly, still confused. "Come here and look!" He drew Keith towards the notice board across the room, looking like he was about to vibrate clear out of his skin.

Keith raised an eyebrow, but looked at the board, quickly finding the only list of pilots pinned there. Cadets chosen for extended live-flying exercises in the thermosphere. His name was at the top of the very short list.

Keith's eyes widened. Shiro's arms wrapped snugly around his waist again, and he dipped his head to press a kiss just beneath Keith's jaw. "Congratulations, baby." Shiro murmured, and Keith grinned, turning in Shiro's arms and throwing his own around Shiro's shoulders again.

"I'm going to fly an orbital craft!" Keith shivered, hugging Shiro tighter. "Shiro! I'm going to-" he broke himself off, unable to quite give voice to the thrumming excitement in his chest, and pressed into another quick, hard kiss. "Shiro. . ."

"It's amazing, baby." Shiro grinned at him, eyes bright.

Keith startled at the sound of a tap at his new door. He rolled off his bunk and went to open it. At least it wasn't the blaring alarm this time. Whether real or another faked warning.

"Shiro!" Keith smiled, stepping back as Shiro moved forwards, letting him inside.

Shiro dragged Keith into his arms, clinging tightly. Keith startled, but returned the embrace firmly, humming against Shiro's shoulder. "Hey, love. What's wrong?" he asked gently, brushing his fingers up and down Shiro's back.

He could feel the difference with Shiro's metal right arm crossed behind his back, and he winced. It didn't bother him - it was still Shiro's embrace, Shiro's body against his and Shiro's heartbeat he could feel - but it was a reminder of what Shiro must have gone through in that missing year. He swallowed.

"I- I just . . . missed you. Very much." Shiro said thickly against his ear. Keith blinked back tears and snuggled his cheek against Shiro's.

"I missed you too, my love." Keith said softly, petting Shiro's back. "I knew you were alive, you had to be, out here somewhere, but I. . ."

Shiro leaned back, catching his breath with a quick sniff. "You knew, huh?" he asked, smiling faintly.

Keith narrowed his eyes. "I knew." His lips trembled and he lifted his jaw. "I couldn't do anything, but . . . I knew."

Shiro kissed Keith softly. "Thank you." he said quietly.

Keith nuzzled him in return, hugging Shiro tighter again. "I love you." he murmured, just as he realised Shiro was shaking and unsteady on his feet. "Come sit down." he said, pulling Shiro towards his bed.

He nearly fell onto it, and Keith frowned, combing his fingers through Shiro's forelock. He sat on the bed beside Shiro, legs tucked up. "What's wrong, love?"

"Just tired." Shiro said, smiling weakly.

"Hmph." Keith stroked his cheek. He doubted that was all, but no doubt that much was true. "Get comfortable then, and you can rest here with me?"

Shiro opened his mouth, looking uncertain, and Keith raised his eyebrows. Shiro remained silent, nodding. Keith smiled and kissed his brow.

It only took a few minutes for Shiro to divest himself of boots, belt, and vest and return to the bed where Keith had stretched out again, blanket tucked aside. He settled beside Keith, big and warm and solid. Keith hummed, pulling the light blanket over them both, quietly relieved to have him close. He knew Shiro was safe, was with him again, but . . . it had been so long that sometimes it was hard to believe it, when Shiro wasn't physically there at his side.

Shiro turned his back to the room and leaned closer against Keith, taking a deep breath and sighing softly.

Keith slid his hand down to Shiro's wrist, rubbing his thumb over the familiar constellation that bloomed across his skin, and Shiro made a soft sound of pleasure. Keith smiled, tipping his head to kiss Shiro's cheek, squeezing his wrist.

It was strange to be back on Earth, Keith thought, taking a moment to catch his breath - he hadn't been alone for more than a few moments all evening. He finished off his wine and put the empty glass on a passing waiter's tray. It was stranger still to be in a crowded ballroom full of humans. Allura, Coran, Kolivan and a few of the other Blades. . . Everyone in this room that hadn't come off the Castle with them was human.

He shook his head slightly, marvelling at the idea. They'd be back off in the Castle soon - and despite the Galaxy Garrison's protests, and those from several political factions, it was very unlikely they would have any more humans on board than they had landed with - and Keith couldn't say he'd regret it.

He glanced across the room, idly searching out his teammates. Shiro was close by, of course, Keith had kept track of him, but the others. . . He was used to doing this, but it was often easier - they blended in better here than most places they had been. Allura was quickest to find, in a small knot of other elegant women, her hair shining in the bright lights - she had looked happy with them earlier, but she was beginning to look like she'd be willing to stage an emergency to get out of her conversation.

Pidge was easy, too; she and her brother were in a small and very energetic group of people Keith that were likely discussing things he couldn't have hoped to understand. Of course, most of the scientists they were talking to looked blank from time to time, too - Pidge had spent years playing with Altean, Galra, and Olkari technology in depth. And anything else she could get her hands on from the planets they visited in their travels.

Pidge laughed, gesturing broadly with the stick from one of the hors d'oeuvres, and the brilliant green tattoos glowing around her left eye came into view.

Lance was on the dance floor - much more graceful than he had been once, and, it certainly seemed - Keith was no fair judge - more charming. Although Keith wondered if he would make it through an entire evening with people who might actually understand his terrible come-ons without catching a slap or a drink to the face.

Hunk and Shay were talking to someone who from the glee on his face as he looked at them was probably either a chef or a geologist. Keith snorted in amusement, then paused his automatic assessment of the ballroom as a quiet cough caught his attention. Someone he'd spoken to for some time across the banquet table had tracked him down again. He smiled and bowed his head politely. "Hello again."

"Hello! General, this is- Oh, my apologies, Sir Paladin? I don't believe I caught your name."

Keith smiled at the assistant . . . something or other, whose name he had also missed, and then the new person - General, evidently - he had brought over.

"Ah, no apology necessary. I'm the Red Paladin, and my name is Shirogane Keith." Keith said with a smile, shaking the offered hand.

He heard Shiro's breath catch and then the sound of breaking glass, and quickly extricated himself to turn and check on his husband. "Shiro? Are you all right?" Keith rested a hand on Shiro's arm and glanced around, but he didn't see any threats, only people who looked shocked and concerned, and Shiro's glass of wine smashed on the floor only barely shy of where his knees had hit when he collapsed.

"Keith, I- Yeah." Shiro said faintly. "I just need to. . ."

Keith wrapped an arm through his husband's and drew Shiro to his feet. "Come on, love." he said quietly. "Let's get you somewhere you can sit down and catch your breath, at least." he coaxed, guiding Shiro through the crowded ballroom and out. He didn't know what had hit Shiro so hard, though crowded events and parties were still . . . uncomfortable for Shiro. This was more than being overwhelmed or wishing he could linger somewhere quieter, though.

Keith steered them into a smaller receiving room, locking the door to be sure they were left alone until they were ready to return to the ballroom. He pushed Shiro towards the broad couch in the room.

Shiro dropped onto it without protest, and Keith knelt at his feet, resting one hand on his knee. "What happened, love?" Keith asked, concerned. Shiro looked up at him, eyes wide and shocked. "Are you all right?"

"I. . . Yes, of course, I was just . . . surprised." Shiro said, his voice still a little thready.

"By what?" Keith asked, rubbing his thumb over the inside of Shiro's knee.

"It hurt more than I thought it would." Shiro said, and Keith frowned, alarmed. Shiro shook his head. "It's okay, it's- Actually it's. . ." He broke into a broad smile and Keith had no idea what was going on now.

Shiro held out his left hand and Keith twined their fingers obligingly, giving a gentle squeeze.

"Love, I'm afraid I'm lost." Keith said gently. "What is going on?"

Shiro turned their linked hands over and pulled up his sleeve. Keith's eyebrows rose, but he glanced down at the familiar mark, the bright points of Aquila upon the deep purple swathe of galaxy, but-

Keith wavered and collapsed backwards onto his ass, staring. Shiro laughed, breathless with delight.

"I- But. . ." Keith said weakly.

The so-familiar mark was not fucking there, but had faded away - and in its place now were stark black letters spelling out Shirogane Keith.

"I guess," Shiro said softly, sliding down off the couch to the floor in front of Keith, "it was only waiting for a name that . . . you really felt was yours."

"Oh." Keith said faintly. He couldn't tear his eyes off his husband's wrist.

"Keith." Shiro said softly, left hand flexing. A light brush of metal fingers along his jaw, and Keith dragged his gaze upwards to Shiro's broad smile. "Keith, I have your name." he said, flushed and almost trembling.

Keith smiled shakily, twining his hands through Shiro's. "Actually," he said, laughing, "I have yours, love." he said, and Shiro laughed and dragged Keith towards him.

Their laughter muffled slightly against each other as they nuzzled closely, though neither of them could quell their smiles and laughter enough to kiss. Keith rested his brow against Shiro's, tightening his grip on his husband's hands.

"Your mark changed." Keith said softly, voice wavering. "You. . ."

Shiro squeezed tightly in return, tugging gently, and Keith shifted to settled in Shiro's lap, their legs tangling. Coran would probably fuss over the state of their clothes from rolling around in the floor, Keith thought absently, though it would hardly be the worst state they'd come back in from a diplomatic event.

Memorably, that time on Olkari that they had slipped off into the jungle alone for . . . a while.

"Keith," Shiro said softly, with a brush of a kiss and a more solemn expression, though his eyes were still sparkling with joy, "I have always been yours. No matter what was on my wrist."

Keith smiled and dropped one of Shiro's hands to reach up, pushing his fingers through Shiro's slightly shaggy hair and kissing him hard. "And I would always have been yours." he said softly against Shiro's lips as he pulled way. "No matter what."

Shiro smiled, and they both looked down at his left wrist. Keith trailed his fingers over the new stark letters.

"I am happy to see your name there, though, baby." Shiro said quietly, curling his fingers.

Keith grinned, probably ridiculously wide. "Me too."

"I love you." Shiro said softly, wrapping his free arm around Keith's waist and squeezing him tight enough to knock some of the air from his lungs.

Keith laughed breathlessly. "Oh Shiro." He hummed, nuzzling Shiro's face. "I love you."