Keith is six years old when he wishes on a star for the first time.
He didn't even know he could until his pa told him, after he'd blown out his single candle, and they'd already eaten as much strawberry cake as they could stomach, and watched their favorite television show, and travelled to the edge of the canyon to watch the stars come out.
"What'd you wish for?" Pa asks, their legs swinging lazily over the rocky ledge they've claimed for the night.
Keith rolls his eyes and huffs. "I can't tell you, Pa, or it won't come true."
His laugh rumbles through Keith's tummy and echoes into the dark and fills the silence with a comforting sense of warmth. Then he wraps an arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair. "You're right. Sorry, kiddo. You hold on tight to that wish of yours. Don't let anyone take it from you."
Keith nestles into his side and looks up at him. "Do you ever make wishes?"
Pa smiles, and turns his face to the sky. Keith likes to watch him when he does that, because Pa never just looks at the sky. He looks into it—like he's waiting for something. "Every night," he says, after a while.
"You have a birthday every day?"
"It doesn't have to be your birthday for you to make a wish, Keith. You don't need a candle, either. That's what the stars are for." He looks back down at Keith and smiles again, and Keith thinks he can still see the stars in his eyes. "The universe is full of 'em."
Keith considers this. "What if you run out of stars?"
Pa laughs again. "Don't worry, there are plenty to go around. They're always out there, even when you can't see them." He lifts Keith's face to the sky. "See those? That's only a handful. And there's more where that came from. But the best star there is, is a shooting star. Never pass up the opportunity to make a wish on a shooting star."
"Can I make a wish right now?" Keith asks.
"Course you can," Pa says.
Keith hesitates. "Does it have to be different, or can it be the same one?"
Pa chuckles, although Keith doesn't understand what's so funny. "Same one, if you want. Just look at the brightest star you can find, think really hard about it, and make your wish."
So he does. Keith looks up, finds the brightest star in the sky, thinks really hard, and makes his wish.
Keith is six years old, and he wishes twice for a mother he never knew he had.
When Keith turns seven years old, he wishes he had made a different wish that night.
He finds the brightest star in the sky, thinks really hard, and wishes he could have his pa back.
He doesn't tell anyone about his wish.
It still doesn't come true.
Keith is eight years old when he sees a shooting star for the first time.
He wishes for his family again.
It doesn't come true.
But maybe it's his own fault, this time. He didn't think very hard. He wasn't sure it would make any difference.
The first time that Shiro ruffles his hair, Keith just blinks and stares at him until he starts to worry he's done something wrong.
"No," Keith starts awkwardly. "It's fine, it's just no one's really—done that to me, in a long time," he finishes quietly.
Shiro seems to relax, and smiles at Keith in a way that almost turns his entire world right-side up again, because there's no pity to be found like there has been in everyone else's. Just affection. "I guess I'll have to make up for all that time, then."
Keith thinks maybe the universe is trying to make peace with him. Maybe, it's trying to give him something to make up for all that it's taken away.
Then it takes Shiro away, too.
The first night he spends alone since leaving the Garrison, he sees another shooting star.
He doesn't make a wish; there's no point in wishing for something you can't have.
At this point, the universe is only taunting him. He won't play its game anymore.
.・。.・゜・.・・゜・。.
It's been two months since the Lions of Voltron fell back to Earth in all their flaming glory.
Keith remembers his heart beating through his ribcage, and the heat crawling up his skin, and the silence in his ears before everything fades to black and he falls unconscious.
He comes to in the Garrison's sickbay with a splitting headache, a crick in his neck, and his mother and his mentor sitting by his side.
"We came as soon as we heard," Krolia says softly. "How do you feel?"
"Alive," Keith answers honestly. Because for once, he means it.
Shiro comes in to visit for the third time in a week with a look on his face that Keith just knows means trouble.
He sits down, looks at him, and says, very seriously: "Don't make the same mistake that I did."
"I don't know what you mean," Keith responds stubbornly.
Shiro sighs. Keith pulls the sheets over his head. Shiro pulls them back. "Keith."
"No," Keith says.
"Then you do know what I mean."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Keith opens his mouth. He closes it.
Shiro sighs again. "Tell him," he says, then leaves.
Keith and Krolia go to visit his father's grave.
He watches quietly as she kneels onto the ground and extends a rough, battle-scarred hand, tracing the name etched into the tombstone with delicate fingers.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs.
Keith folds his arms and stares at his feet, because he doesn't quite know who she's apologizing to.
He clears his throat, after a while. "I think he missed you."
Krolia stands, eyes still fixed on the marble slab decorated by freshly picked flowers from a nearby field.
He bites his lip. "I think I did too."
She slips her arm around his shoulders and pulls him to her side and he tells himself he just got something into his eye.
"I miss him," he chokes out.
"He loved you," she says. She pauses. "I love you."
His voice wobbles. "I love you too, Mom."
She doesn't say anything about the water in his eyes. He loves her a little more, for that.
Two giddy, bright-eyed children burst into Keith's room later and launch themselves onto his bed and attack him with questions.
Lance follows immediately after, face flushed and panicked.
"Sorry," he pants, waving frantically. "Sorry, they—"
"What's it like flying the Black Lion?" the boy asks excitedly. Sylvio, Keith thinks his name is.
"Um," Keith says, flustered.
The girl clings to his arm and pokes his face. "How'd you get your scar?"
Lance squeaks in alarm. "Nadia! No puedes—"
"Can we see your sword?" Sylvio asks, eyes gleaming.
"I don't think—"
"Are you really half-alien?"
Nadia pushes the hair out of Keith's eyes and he blinks. She nods thoughtfully. "Uncle Leandro says—"
"Nada!" Lance yelps. He redirects. "I mean—nothing! Sylvio, Nadia—get down from there—"
"But we wanna hear about the time Keith saved your Lion," Sylvio protests.
Nadia nods vigorously. "And when he saved you from getting sucked into space—"
"Dios mío," Lance mutters, looking properly humiliated. "Sorry Keith, they—"
"It's okay," Keith finds himself saying. "I don't mind."
Lance's mouth falls open slightly. He stares.
His eyes are so blue that Keith thinks, not for the first time, drowning wouldn't be the worst way to go.
Nadia looks back and forth between the two of them. "Ohhh," she says wisely.
Lance drags them both out of the room and Keith tries not to die.
Keith can't sleep. He closes his eyes, and blue ones stare back at him.
Blue. Ocean. Drowning. Blue.
He opens his eyes.
"Fine," he says out loud, with as much grievance as he can muster, as if he hadn't already made up his mind days ago.
He stumbles out of his bed and into the hallway with the intention of marching straight over to his room to tell him, only to find him standing outside his door with a fist raised, ready to knock.
They stare at each other for a moment, eyes wide and unblinking; then Lance clamps his hands on either side of Keith's face and says: "I'm going to kiss you."
Keith nods, heart in his throat.
Lance kisses him.
Shiro comes to visit again.
He sits down, and looks at Keith. "Anything to declare?"
Keith bites his lip and tries not to smile. He fails.
Shiro narrows his eyes. "Did you tell him?"
Keith pulls the sheets over his head.
"You're hopeless," Shiro sighs, but his voice is smiling.
Pidge asks Keith to have dinner with her and her family.
He stares at her. "What?"
She bounces up and down on her toes. "Lance and Hunk are at home visiting their families."
"I know."
"And Krolia went back to help the Blade."
"She did."
She clears her throat. "It's National Pasta Day."
He laughs a little, confused. "Okay?"
"We're making homemade pasta."
"I would expect as much."
She bites her lip. "It's kind of a—family tradition."
He blinks at her. "Oh." Oh.
"So... will you come?"
His voice cracks. "Okay."
She fastens her arms around him and buries her face in his stomach and he tries not to cry.
Veronica is intimidating.
She folds her arms and stands at the foot of Keith's bed and squints.
Keith shifts uncomfortably. Veronica squints some more.
He clears his throat. "If this is about—"
"It is," she says.
He coughs.
She observes. Then: "Break his heart and I'll break your face."
"Understood," Keith manages.
"Good." She sits down. "So. Tell me the most embarrassing thing he did while you were in space."
Veronica is also, a very good listener.
Hunk is acting... weird.
He walks into the Garrison lounge and plants himself in front of the couch and folds his arms and taps his fingers.
"Hey Keith."
"Yes, Hunk."
"Do you like cake?"
Keith looks up from his book. "What?"
Hunk shrugs, a little too casually. "Do you like cake?" he repeats.
Keith sets his book down. "Are you baking a cake?"
"I might bake a cake." Hunk pauses. "Would you eat the cake?"
"What kind of cake?"
"I don't know. What kind of cake do you like?"
Keith narrows his eyes. "Hunk."
Hunk pretends to be suddenly busy studying the cover of Keith's book.
"Hunk," Keith says again.
"Yes?"
"Why are you baking a cake?"
"Because I want to! Is it so wrong to want to bake a cake for my friends?"
Keith considers. "Strawberry," he says.
Hunk's eyes light up. "Really?"
"Don't tell Lance."
"Why not?"
Keith picks up his book and settles back into the couch. "He thinks my favorite is chocolate."
"Why?"
He shrugs. "That's his favorite."
Hunk looks at him. "Weirdo," he says, with affection. Hunk leaves.
Keith smiles into his book.
Allura has never tried coffee.
"What is that?" she yawns, sinking into a chair behind the counter where Keith is pouring himself a cup in Shiro's kitchen.
"Coffee," Keith answers tiredly, taking a sip.
"Coffee," Allura mutters, as if it were her sworn enemy.
"You don't like coffee," Keith observes.
She props her chin in her hands. "Actually, I've never tried it."
He rubs his eyes.
"Everyone at the Garrison talks about it constantly, like it's some kind of miracle beverage."
Keith sets his mug down. "It is a miracle beverage."
Allura eyes it warily.
"Do you... want to try some?"
Her eyes light up and she clasps her hands together. "Could I?"
Keith retrieves another mug from the cabinet and pours the rest of the coffee into it, then slides it across the counter toward Allura.
He watches as she wraps her hands around it and takes a whiff. "It smells—interesting."
"Mhm."
"And the color is... nice."
"Just drink it, Allura."
She hesitates. "Lance says I wouldn't like it."
Keith sighs. "When has anything Lance said ever stopped you."
A smile tugs at her lips. "I suppose you have a point."
She takes a single sip and gags.
Keith accidentally wakes up the entire team still sleeping in the next room because he's laughing so hard.
Shiro has never been very good at surprises.
He pokes his head through the front door of his apartment where Keith and Lance and Hunk are playing Scrabble in his living room. Keith has three Qs. He's losing spectacularly.
"Hey Keith, can you come out here for a second?"
All three boys look up from their game. "Why?" Keith asks slowly.
"Um," Shiro scratches his head. "Brother bonding time?"
"Shiro," Keith says suspiciously.
"Oh c'mon, Keith," Lance nudges him. "Brother bonding time!"
"This feels like a trap."
Shiro scoffs. "Just come outside."
Keith looks down at his sad assortment of Scrabble letters. "But we're having so much fun."
"You have three Qs," Hunk observes. "And your best word so far is 'jam'."
"It's a good word," Keith mutters.
"Keith," Shiro sighs.
Lance rolls over on the floor and props his chin on Keith's thigh, looking up at him through his lashes. "Just do as the man says, Keith."
"I can't. Your face is too heavy."
Lance rolls away.
Keith begrudgingly climbs to his feet and approaches the door.
Shiro grins. "Okay, close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close your—"
"What are you doing?" Keith narrows his eyes, trying to peek over Shiro's shoulder to see outside.
"Nothing! Just—Keith, please just do it."
"I'm not twelve, Shiro—"
"Then stop acting like it and just do what I say!"
"I don't act twelve either—"
"You do kind of act twelve sometimes, babe," Lance calls from the floor.
Keith groans much more dramatically than is strictly necessary before he obliges.
Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him down the front steps and onto the sidewalk. Keith decides not to mention he could have easily done this himself.
"Ready?" Shiro asks, the excitement in his voice evident.
"I don't think I have much of a choice," Keith grumbles.
"Open your eyes."
Keith opens his eyes. And stares. His old bike sits at the side of the road, bright and gleaming in the warm afternoon sun. "Is that—"
"Yep."
"But how—"
"I fixed it up for you."
"Shiro," Keith breathes, running his fingers along its side, his eyes wide.
"Why not take it for a spin?" Shiro suggests. "Scrabble will still be here when you get back."
Keith is already climbing onto the bike and revving the engine.
"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Shiro calls after him.
The lights are out in Shiro's apartment when Keith gets back.
"What," he mutters under his breath.
And, the door is locked. "What," he says again, fumbling with the spare key that Shiro gave him years and years ago.
He pushes the door open and steps into the dark. What, he thinks.
Then he flicks the lights on.
"SURPRISE!"
Keith freezes on the spot and drops the key, its clattering drowned out by the sounds of poppers cracking and confetti fluttering down around him as all familiar faces leap out from behind the furniture, all big smiles and bright eyes. There's Shiro, and Hunk, and Lance, and Pidge, and Allura and Romelle and Coran, and Krolia, who isn't even supposed to be back for another couple of months.
He doesn't quite understand what. Is happening.
"Happy birthday!" Pidge cheers, tiny pieces of confetti settling into her hair.
Keith's heart stops. "What?"
Eyes wide, he takes in the scene in front of him: a banner strung across the wall with the words 'Happy Birthday!' in bright red letters, the ridiculous party hats, the strawberry cake in Hunk's hands, the confetti, the poppers—
Shiro seems to realize what's happened before Keith does. "You forgot," he says softly.
Keith stares at them.
It's his birthday.
He forgot his birthday.
"Oh my god," Lance says.
Everyone seems to falter slightly. Keith brings a hand to his mouth, and a tear slips down his cheek.
"Oh my god," Lance says.
Shiro gets to him first. Keith buries his face in his hands and tries his best to keep the tears at bay, but they start falling freely when Shiro is immediately followed by Lance, then Pidge, then Hunk, and everyone until the entire group is gathered around him with their arms wrapped around Keith and each other in a tangled mess of limbs and smiles and laughter, pressing into him and holding on.
"Of course you're that person who forgets their own birthday," Pidge scolds him, and Keith can't help but let out a huff of laughter, his shoulders shaking a little as hot tears spill down his cheeks and into his hands.
"Honestly dude, I totally thought the whole cake thing made it really obvious we were planning this," Hunk adds.
Lance sighs, gently pulling Keith's hands away from his face and taking one in his own while using the other to push the hair out of Keith's face and wipe his thumb underneath his eyes. "God, Keith," is all he says, voice full of exasperation and fondness and warmth and affection and everything that makes Keith's heart swell until he thinks it's going to burst with the emotion.
"You guys really shouldn't have," Keith sniffs, blinking away the fresh tears in his eyes, although he's smiling and his heart is so full and it might be the first time he's ever cried tears of genuine, heartfelt happiness.
"Don't be ridiculous," Shiro laughs, and ruffles his hair. "It's your birthday, kiddo. We wouldn't miss it for the world."
"For the universe," Allura corrects with a smile, and it's mostly joking, and kind of corny but also so fitting, and it makes the remaining tears in Keith's eyes fall unapologetically.
Lance squeezes his hand and Krolia's hand tightens on his shoulder, and Hunk moves away and then returns again with the cake in his hands, a single candle sitting aflame in its center. Everyone shifts just enough to make room, unwilling to let him go completely.
"Make a wish," Krolia says softly.
Keith finds himself staring at the candle as everyone watches him expectantly, eyes bright and smiling. But their expressions quickly turn into puzzlement and concern when more tears start to well in Keith's eyes and he has to squeeze them shut, ducking his head down to hide. "Keith, what's wrong?" Pidge asks in alarm as everyone closes in on him again, squeezing his shoulders and patting his back.
"Nothing," Keith tries, wiping at the tears on his face only for them to be quickly replaced. "Nothing, I'm—it's—"
"Is it the candle?" Hunk pulls away. "It's the candle, I knew I should've bought more candles—"
"No," Keith shakes his head, chuckling weakly, and he feels like maybe he should be kind of embarrassed but he's not. "No, everything's—" his voice cracks a little. "Everything's perfect."
"And everyone says I'm dramatic," Lance sighs again, and Keith laughs shakily as Lance pulls his head down to his shoulder, slipping his fingers through his hair until Keith manages to stop the flow of happy tears.
They try again, Keith clinging to Lance's hand and leaning into the group's embrace as he finally blows out the candle and they all cheer before launching into their own loud and obnoxious version of Happy Birthday.
The group finally pulls away, and the first thing Keith does is wheel around and give Krolia a proper hug, which she returns without hesitation. "I missed you," he murmurs, closing his eyes and breathing in the moment.
She smiles into his hair. "Happy birthday, Keith." She pulls back and wipes at the streaks still on his face, and all he can do is smile up at her because his heart is full and brimming and overflowing and he doesn't know how much better it could possibly get, than it already is. Shiro claps him on the back, and then Pidge is dragging him over to the coffee table where Hunk is already cutting the cake, and Lance hands him the first slice, but not before purposely smushing it into his nose and laughing when Keith retaliates by smearing icing all over Lance's face.
To Keith's relief, no one bought him any gifts. He would've been uncomfortable and a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, anyway. Instead, they all sit around the coffee table and eat snacks and play games until it starts to get dark out, and then Hunk and Pidge make popcorn and they all cram onto the couch to watch a movie, and Keith holds Lance's hand under the blanket until at some point Lance accidentally inhales and chokes on a popcorn kernel and Keith laughs until his ribs ache and they have to pause the movie because he can't stop.
He can't seem to stop smiling, period.
Later, when everyone's scattered throughout the living room and in the kitchen, chatting quietly or lounging around, Keith slips out onto the front porch, just to get a moment alone. He shivers a little in the crisp night air, but he folds his arms on the banister and leans forward, taking a deep breath and exhaling, watching the warm cloud form in front of him before disappearing.
The sky is perfectly clear, and full of stars. Keith watches them carefully. Somehow, he thought maybe given the circumstances, they would make his heart ache. But for some reason, he doesn't feel that. He feels calm. At peace, for once, with the universe.
He hears the door open quietly behind him, and isn't surprised when Lance appears at his side, hands in his pockets. "Hey," he says softly. "Everything good?"
Keith's mouth quirks up into a smile. "Yeah," he responds, his face still turned to the sky. "Everything's good."
He doesn't protest when Lance takes a hand in his and carefully intertwines their fingers, propping his elbow on the banister and pressing Keith's knuckles to his mouth. "What'd you wish for?" he mumbles, his breath warm on Keith's skin.
"I can't tell you."
"What!" Lance cries, indignant. "I'm the love of your life, you have to tell me. At the very least, to make up for lying to me about your favorite cake flavor."
"Uh," Keith says.
"Yeah," Lance smacks him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't think I didn't notice that, you little liar. You can't just make all my favorites your favorites so I can always have my favorites."
"Why not?"
Lance sighs. "Any other time, I might choose to have this argument with you, but it's cold out here and you're kind of stalling."
"I'm not stalling," Keith protests.
"Look man, your hand only has so much warmth, and all of it is currently seeping into my hand, and once I've sucked all the warmth out of you I'm leaving and then you'll be stuck out here in the cold. Or, you could just tell me what you wished for right now, and then we can both go back inside where it's warm." Keith turns to look at him then, chewing on his lip. Lance's teasing smile fades a little. "What is it?"
"I—didn't wish for anything," Keith admits.
Lance frowns a little, his thumb brushing gently across the back of Keith's hand. "Why not?"
Keith considers. And then decides. "Because," he says simply. "I already have everything I could ever wish for."
Lance bites his lip, and smiles again as he brings his other hand up to cup Keith's cheek. "Babe. That is the sappiest thing you have ever said."
"Whatever," Keith huffs, burying his face in Lance's shoulder as he laughs.
"Hey," Lance says again, lifting Keith's head. "Listen, I know you're not really big on gifts, but... I have something for you." Keith raises an eyebrow, but watches silently as Lance steps back a little, still holding onto Keith's hand while reaching into his jacket pocket with the other. He pauses. "Close your eyes for a second."
He does, and a moment later, he feels Lance turning his hand over and pressing something into his palm, curling his fingers around it. The warmth of Lance's hand lingers for a moment, then disappears.
"Okay," he says quietly.
Keith opens his eyes and looks down, his breath hitching slightly at the sight of what Lance has given him. "My—old gloves? But—"
"I know," Lance interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. "I kept them. After you left, for the Blade. They just seemed—" he shoves his hands back into his pockets. "I don't know. Important. Like a part of the old you, I guess."
Keith lifts his gaze to fix his eyes on Lance. "I thought you hated these things."
Lance lets out a small huff, smiling a little. "Yeah, maybe. But never you."
He looks back down at the gloves, turning them over in his hands. A part of the old you. He frowns a little. "Do you think I've changed?" he asks quietly.
"Uh, yeah, Keith," Lance chuckles. "A couple years in outer space will do that to you." Keith doesn't respond, and Lance quickly grows serious. "You want my honest opinion?"
Keith starts chewing on his lip again. "I think so."
Lance is quiet for a moment. "I think..." He turns to look up at the sky for a moment to collect his thoughts. "I think you've finally stopped thinking of yourself in terms of who you think everyone else wants you to be, and started thinking of yourself in terms of who you actually are."
Keith is still for a moment, processing. Then he looks up. "So—is that okay?"
Lance shoots him a funny look. "What do you mean?"
"I mean—" Keith shifts a little. "Do you like the old me, or the new me?"
A small smile tugs at Lance's lips. "Both."
"That seems like a cop-out answer," Keith says, frowning a little.
"Keith—" Lance laughs softly, leaning his hip against the banister and folding his arms. "I like the you you. That includes all past, present, and future versions of you."
Something clicks in the back of Keith's mind, and it makes his heart ache a little—but in a good way. "Oh," he says quietly.
A slight gust of wind breezes across the porch, and Lance shivers. "Okay, let's go back inside. It's way too cold out here."
Keith hesitates for a moment as Lance turns and starts for the door. He looks back up at the sky, and the stars, a little distractedly.
He inhales sharply, when he suddenly sees a shooting star blaze a path through the dark, and his heart seems to flip.
But he doesn't make a wish; there's no point in wishing for something you already have.
"You coming?"
Keith turns to where Lance stands in the doorway, his arm extended. Then he smiles and takes his hand.
"Coming."