A short tale because I was inspired and fuck yeah, Voltron is awesome go watch it.
Shiro hasn't always been like 'this'.
And by 'this', I mean impulsive, coarse, awkward, hormonal, hesitant–
Shiro hasn't always been this – this youthful.
He is the stone-faced, bold, pragmatic, fearless, cunning, loved leader of the Paladins of Voltron. Saying it's a disgrace to be knocked down to the bottom of the emotional chain is an understatement. Shiro is outraged.
And he sits through his outrage on a dark corner of a ballroom he didn't know the castle had as the last minutes of his birthday slip away with the music.
Shiro doesn't know how old he truly is, or rather he doesn't remember, but he will never forget the day he was born. Everyone in his life has made an effort to remind him of how special his birth was, that he is special, unique, and as his mother used to say, a miracle.
Shiro doesn't feel like a miracle.
Being a strategist prodigy is a title he can bear to accept – he will never turn down a praise for a well-executed operation, or a masterfully won battle – but he will never let anyone call him a miracle. He's just another man living his life day by day, but where others flail and struggle, he learns, and acts accordingly. Planning is rooted deep in his brain, and it runs through his veins.
Shiro hasn't planned for youthfulness.
He has never needed to, as his devotion has always to the mission and to the mission alone. Even when he was the star-student at his class on the academy, Shiro never lost track of the goal. He became obsessed with the goal, in fact, and by time he graduated with exceptional honors, Shiro had not attended to a single party in all the years he spent studying and mastering his skills.
Shiro now regrets his decision.
Shiro doesn't know what to do.
She is there and he can't take his eyes away from her. She dances, she sways, she spins, she smiles. Her face lights up when she smiles, it is a smile meant to be shown and it is as beautiful as nothing Shiro has ever seen in his life.
Even after spending so much time together, Allura is still like nothing he has ever seen in his life.
He has tried convincing himself it was merely a passing, wild thought of his brain. It didn't work. Then he tried cramming his mind with work to avoid thinking about her. It didn't work. Then he gave up, and he came to terms with himself.
He's willing to admit, at least, that he likes her as more, much more than just a comrade, or a friend.
He's not willing to admit everything else that floats in his brain when he thinks of her.
And he's definitely, positively, absolutely, certainly, not willing to admit he, the stone-faced, bold, pragmatic, fearless, cunning, loved leader of the Paladins of Voltron, is utterly incapable of asking her for a dance.
This is his chance, he recites in his head, over and over again, this is the moment he's been waiting for, the moment that would feel like the highest point of a series of unfortunate event building up their relationship.
Shiro trembles at the word 'relationship'.
Shiro has never had a relationship.
He has been a thing close to a brother once, with his crewmembers, and he has, and will always be a son to his parents. But Shiro has never been as close to someone as he is with Allura. Talking to her is easy as breathing, making her smile is as right as rain. He feels, he knows they fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle – that everything would be alright if they were together.
But they aren't together, because Shiro is afraid to tell her how he feels.
Lance has called them out, once, twice, of being in a relationship. His stern eyes had set him straight the first time, the second time it wasn't that easy. This is a fight he won't win in the end. This is a fight with an end he can't avoid.
He would be lynched by his heart if he avoided the end.
And now, with a drink in his hand that is the last in a long line and an opportunity so perfect that it would be criminal to let it go to waste, Shiro has to make his move.
And as I said, Shiro is afraid.
He's afraid of being unprepared, but he is also afraid of consequences. No strategist worth his salt isn't afraid of consequences. What if something out of the ordinary happens? What if he's far too inebriated? What if she says no? Hell, what if she says yes? The possibilities feed to his insecurities and glue him to his seat. It would take nothing short of a miracle to make him stand.
Lance knows a thing or two about miracles.
He also knows a thing or two about being stubborn, and annoying, and a pushover.
When he bumps Shiro out of his seat, he does it with a smile. The man discovers he is, indeed, too inebriated for his likings. But he is on his feet now, so the first mountain has been bested; it is time to try his luck at the next one.
He bobbles his way to the dance floor, where half of the modest group they are dance and have fun to the rhythm of the music. Allura is having fun to the rhythm of the music, by herself.
That wouldn't do, not at all.
He – miraculously – reaches her as the song playing finds its end. She sees him to her side, and she smiles when he offers her a hand for the next piece. Her smile warms his heart in a way that no amount of alcohol could. It feels almost natural when he steps closer and wraps a clumsy hand to her waist, when her chin finds its rest at his collarbone, when his nose descends on her hair and smells a scent he can't place with anything that isn't herself. It makes him wonder, if she too has been expecting this moment for a long, long time.
He is so drunk he can't read it in her face, how much she's been waiting for this, for him.
Allura would never admit it, because she has an image to uphold, but she is also terrified by 'this'.
'This' being 'oh quiznak he's coming my way but I don't know what to do'.
Allura and Shiro are like two pieces of a puzzle. When Allura thinks of 'this', she soon discovers it's a lie.
When he reaches for her and offers his hand for a dance, it feels almost natural to do everything she does. It feels like a dream, like she isn't truly acting for herself, but watching her body act on its own. She has never trusted her body except for her brain. She is a princess; princesses always think before they act. A princess never goes by her gut.
Allura would never again doubt her gut.
When the slow melody begins, her body starts to sway in rhythm, and he follows with an assortment of alcohol-fueled movements that often lead to her feet being stepped on. He apologizes each and every time, in a light voice that he whispers to her right ear.
Allura would never admit it, but she has never heard anything cuter in her whole ten thousand and some more years of existence.
Allura doesn't swoon because princesses do not swoon. Allura simply exhales into his shoulder.
Allura has wanted to do that for a long time.
Allura has wanted him for a long time.
She has never tried to convince herself of anything; princesses never hesitate. Allura assumed her thought rather quickly, that she liked him as more, much more than just a comrade, or a friend.
Princesses are also discreet, so she'd never admit how much more she likes him.
Allura has never felt more like a princess than when they are both dancing to the music.
He is drunk, but he's tender; he's uncoordinated, but he's a quick learner. It doesn't take long to shape him into a partner worthy of the Altean princess, and maybe into the best partner she would ever have.
Allura can't contain it anymore. Allura swoons.
Shiro doesn't stop, but he makes it clear he notices. And Allure feels like she's floating when he holds her waist just a bit tighter, when his chest ripples with the breath he lets out over her.
Allura suddenly understands how he feels.
Shiro is smart, but Allura is smarter sometimes.
Allura now knows everything she wants to know about him…for the time being.
Allura, again, feels like she might float off the dance floor. But his hands would never let her go away now, of that much she is sure.
Allura also knows that she knows Shiro enough to know she has to be the one to make the final push.
Allura doesn't think it over when she looks up and puts her lips over his.
Shiro hasn't been thinking for some time now.
His lips are surprisingly soft, but hers give a whole new meaning to the concept of softness. They are full, and plump, and he holds back an impulse to nibble at them with his teeth because he doesn't know where that might lead to in the middle of the dance floor.
He has to get her out of the accursed dance floor.
Shiro doesn't know how, but he finds enough courage in him to invite her to his room.
Allura doesn't know if she answers, but she goes along when he leads her out of the ballroom.
They walk in a comfortable silence, in an expectant silence, they don't have to say anything because they know what is about to happen. They don't stop when Pidge appears from a corner and waves at them with a new dirty grin on her lips. They don't stop when Lance does exactly the same and he adds a wolf-whistle which speaks for itself. Shiro tries to understand how the hell Lance got in their way so fast. He tries, and fails, so he drops it and keeps walking, hand in hand with the princess – scratch that, this is now well beyond namesakes – with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen.
Allura is walking with the most handsome man in the galaxy. And it's not a stretch to her.
They get to his room and they slip inside with the sound of the door as the only thing audible in the vicinity. It closes behind them and they are suddenly in the dark.
His back hits the door, and Allura has never shoved someone so hard in her life. She can't bring herself to care as she pounces on him and catches his lips with hers.
Shiro has, in fact, been shoved way harder by the Galra, but he doesn't know Allura has thought of that, and even if he did, he wouldn't say anything because that would be stupid, because his lips could be occupied with something more interesting in the time it would take him to say it. So he doesn't say anything, and he kisses his princess back. 'His princess' is a namesake he can fondly accept.
They make love that night, and again they are like two pieces of puzzle, only now the puzzle they form stands complete, and they feel complete with it, with each other, and Shiro can see it in her eyes when they wake up together, that this puzzle is not one they could bring themselves to disassemble any time soon, and Allura sees it as well, but she doesn't comment on it, not because she's a princess, but because she doesn't have to. Because a kiss is enough to seal their love.
And as all of this happens, a Paladin who goes in blue is smiling rather smugly at the mirror of his bathroom, because he is that awesome.
Dunno if you care, but this is inspired heavily on Cinis's (A fanfiction author) writings. Go read them, I command thee.