A/N: Guys I am SO SORRY! I've had a lot going on in recent weeks, and the June update just completely slipped my mind. I didn't even realize I missed it until July 4th. Again, I'm sorry. I already have slow update schedule, and the chapters don't tend to be super long, so I've always been able to put a new chapter out by the end of each month. I just completely forgot. Consider this the June update, and the next one will be this month as well. The story is in it's final arc, so I'm hoping to finish it soon, and I hope you guys stick with it! Thank you for your patience, and once again, I'm very sorry about this chapter being late :(
A quiet knock on his bedroom door interrupted Matt halfway through writing a text. He spared a glance at the door as it opened, then returned his gaze to his phone when Pidge's head poked into the room.
"What's up?" Matt asked. He braced his foot against his desk and tipped backward slightly in his chair.
Pidge nodded toward the pile of computer parts on the floor next to Matt's desk. "Do you have any extra fans in there?"
Matt waved a hand at the pile, and Pidge slipped into the room. She plopped in front of the pile and began to pick through it as Matt continued texting. A new message made a smile tug at the corners of Matt's lips.
"Tell Shiro I said hi," Pidge said, poking Matt's leg to get his attention.
Matt gently swatted Pidge's fingers away. "How'd you know I was talking to Shiro?"
"The only people you text are me, mom and dad, Professor Rift, the other IT Center employees if they're asking you to switch shifts, and Shiro. You aren't texting mom, dad, or I, because we're all home. Rift is old and wouldn't be awake at ten minutes to midnight even if he was dying, and your conversations with your coworkers last about twenty seconds. So, Shiro."
"Nicely done, Sherlock."
"And you only get that dumb smile on the face when you're talking to guys you have a crush on."
Matt whipped his head around to face Pidge so quickly that he nearly fell out of his chair. "What?!" he squeaked.
Pidge waved a hand high over her head. "Tall, white hair, has a scar on his nose. Looks like he could bench a car."
"I know who he is! But what the hell do you mean—he's not—" Matt's sputtering turned to gibberish as his face flushed red.
"It's so obvious that it hurts. Literally. You were radiating sunshine and rainbows so bright after your date today that looking at you caused me physical pain. My eyes burned."
"It wasn't a date!"
"You keep telling yourself that."
"Did you hit your head or something, because you're being delusional. Maybe I should tell mom and dad you might have a concussion."
"I'm pretty sure they think you're already dating him, but don't want to say it yet. You two text each other literally every thirty seconds."
Matt opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a scowl when his phone buzzed in his hands. He glanced at the screen as Pidge's lips turned up in a smug grin. Sure enough, the new message was from Shiro. "Shut up," Matt hissed.
"So, when's the wedding? I'll be your best man."
"No one is getting married! Shiro's my friend!"
"And you locked yourself in your room for three days like Juliet's gay brother who just got dumped when you fought with him."
"I was sick."
"You got sick the day after you guys fought," Pidge remarked.
"I was outside for a while and it was cold."
"Then you got better the day after you two made up."
"Coincidence."
"Ninety percent of the time you open your mouth, you start talking about Shiro or something somehow related to him."
"Get out."
"I need a fan."
"Then take a fan and get out."
"Pretending you don't have a crush on Shiro won't make you not like him."
"How the hell would you know whether or not I like him? You're aroace."
"Aroace, not an idiot. It doesn't take a gay disaster to recognize one."
Pidge pulled a fan out of the pile of computer parts, and Matt immediately nudged her toward the door with his foot. "Put on your glasses so you can see how wrong you are."
"They're not even my glasses. They're yours."
"Maybe if you didn't wear other people's glasses, you'd be able to see how dumb you are."
"Maybe if you wore your glasses for once, you'd see that I'm right."
"Leave, heathen."
"See you in hell."
Matt glared at the door after Pidge was gone, then slowly returned his attention to his phone. A few new messages had appeared during Matt and Pidge's argument. One was Shiro saying he was going to bed. The second was a simple "good night" with a smiley face tacked on the end. Matt sent the same smiley face in return, then stared at his phone long after the screen went dark. He couldn't deny that Shiro's presence made him feel different than anyone else's. He couldn't deny that some of the things that Pidge had said were true. His heart thumped loudly in his ears, and Pidge's words echoed in time with its pulse.
-000-
Despite his insistence that he knew how he felt, Matt couldn't stop thinking about what Pidge had said about Shiro. They were just friends, right? Friends went to movies together. They went to each other's houses to hang out. They went to stores together and messed around until they got kicked out. Friends texted each other late at night. They made each other happy. Right?
Pidge's accusation had seared itself into Matt's eardrums by the time he woke up Sunday morning with warm tingles in the back of his neck. The ghosts of gloved fingers ran through his hair while the hazy image of Shiro slipped away. Matt sat upright and stared at the wall ahead of him as one of his hands rose to his head and slowly pushed his tangled locks away from his face. It didn't feel the same.
Matt stumbled out of bed and searched his desk for a band to tie his hair back instead of facing the mess on his head. As he gathered a ponytail at the nape of his neck, he wondered if his hair was long enough to braid. It had been in his dream. He'd touched the braid while Shiro gently wove it together.
Remnants of his dream followed Matt out of his room, hovered over his shoulder while he cooked and ate breakfast, and dragged his attention away from his homework every time he tried to work on it. Intrusive thoughts packed with suspicion and taunts nearly drove him to insanity after he reread the same paragraph in his textbook for the seventh time.
Once he accepted that his brain had no intention to quiet, Matt tried to find a way to drown out his thoughts so thoroughly that he wouldn't be able to hear them at all. He dug through the scrap pile next to his desk while headphones blasted music into his ears at a painful volume. He devoted his attention entirely to the bits and pieces pinched between his fingers.
Matt's plan worked until it didn't. While the loud music and tinkering distracted him from his thoughts as intended, it also distracted him from everything else. He didn't hear his phone buzz once, then twice, and again, and again with calls and texts from his dad, who had gone to the store for groceries but forgotten the shopping list at home. His requests that Matt send a picture of it went unnoticed.
It wasn't until Matt's bedroom door suddenly opened that he finally returned to reality.
"Sorry, what?" Matt asked loudly as he pulled off his headphones.
Sam sighed and shook his head. "Turn down the music before you go deaf. I can hear it from over here."
Matt obediently reached for his phone to turn down the volume, then winced when the screen came to life with an array of missed calls and unread texts from his father. "Sorry…"
"It's alright. I got the list, so I'm going back to the store. Just keep an eye on your phone, okay? I was starting to get worried that something might have happened while I was gone," Sam assured.
"No, I'm, uh, I'm good."
Sam nodded, though the look on his face said he wasn't convinced. "Is there anything you need me to pick up while I'm out?"
"Nope."
"I'll be back soon, then."
A brief silence fell as Sam backed up and began to pull the door closed, though it was interrupted by Matt just before the door could shut.
"Wait."
The door cracked open wide enough for Sam to poke his head back into Matt's room and fix his son with a curious look.
"You met mom when you were in the Air Force, right? You were supervising some plant transport for NASA, and mom was one of the botanists working on the project," Matt recalled.
Sam pushed the door open further and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. A fond smile curled his lips upward as he nodded. "I was speaking with the lead botanist about the temperature and humidity settings for the container so we could keep the plants in good shape during the transport. He misspoke and told me the wrong numbers, then your mother interrupted to correct him."
"And he got mad because he was the lead, and he was supposed to talk to you—"
"And he thought she was trying to embarrass him in front of me—"
"Then you ignored him and thanked her—"
"And she helped load the plants and set the temperature and humidity for me while the lead botanist sulked in his office because he didn't want to get dirt on his suit," Sam finished.
Matt nodded. "You asked for her number so you could call her if there was a problem, since you'd realized she was more competent than the lead botanist, but you kept talking to her even after the transport."
"Of course I did." Sam chuckled. "I'd met a wonderful woman who was smarter than anyone I knew, and she had the spine to scold a Marine because he nearly knocked over an intern and didn't stop to apologize."
"I've never heard that part before." The mental image of a Marine standing in front of Colleen Holt with their shoulders hunched in defeat like a young Matt or Pidge caught disassembling the kitchen radio drew an amused huff from Matt's nose.
Sam shook his head, and his smile grew into a small grin. "That was nothing. Yesterday, she laughed at a retired General for dropping his toast on the floor."
"You dropped three pieces…in a row."
"And she laughed at me three times."
Their conversation paused as Matt's gaze slipped down to his phone. "How did you know, way back then? How did you know you liked mom?"
Sam's expression softened, but Matt didn't see it. He wasn't looking at his father.
"I didn't know when I first saw her. I didn't know when she interrupted the lead botanist, either. Even when I got her number, while part of me wanted to get to know her more, I still hadn't had some sudden realization that she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It was something that built up over time as we talked and found time to see each other. Eventually, I noticed that I felt warmer every time I saw her, and I always smiled when she did. When we had to part ways and go back to work, I counted down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until I would get to see her again. It took me a while to figure out that I was in love with her, and even longer to realize she felt the same way," Sam explained. "There is no single way, or sole indicator to tell you that you love someone. Sometimes you notice what you're feeling. Sometimes someone else has to spell it out for you. Either way, you get there eventually."
Matt nodded, and when he didn't offer a response, Sam gave the wall a tap to get his son's attention before speaking. "I have to get going, but if you need anything, give me a call." Sam slipped out without another word, and Matt distantly heard the sound of the front door closing, followed by the rumble of a car coming to life in the garage.
In silence, Matt stared down at his phone, and his reflection stared back from the dark screen.
-000-
When Shiro and Matt met after class on Monday, Matt couldn't ignore the hyperawareness that had taken hold of him. As they walked side by side, tingles zipped under his skin every time the backs of their hands accidentally brushed. Shiro's voice seemed louder in Matt's ears, and every time his eyes landed on Shiro's face, he stared a little too long.
Matt's awareness kept him on his toes all week. Thursday night, when the pair sat side-by-side on the floor in Shiro's dorm watching a shitty movie on Shiro's even shittier laptop, he couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of Shiro just inches away. Hopefully their discussion after the movie wouldn't be too in-depth, because Matt doubted he'd be able to remember a single frame.
The buzz of a phone drowned out the quiet sounds that struggled through the laptop's failing speakers. At first, Matt thought it was his dad calling. Sam was stuck in a late-night meeting with the other aviation staff, and because he was Matt's ride home, Matt was also stranded on campus until the meeting ended. Sam had promised to call when he was done. However, while the ringtone was familiar, it wasn't Matt's.
Shiro paused the movie and picked his phone up off the floor next to him. He frowned when he glanced at the number. "It's Keith?" His confused tone made his statement seem like a question. He accepted the call and held his phone to his ear. "Hello?"
Shallow, ragged breaths poured across the call so loudly that even Matt could hear them. The sounds caused Shiro's expression to twist with concern. "Keith, you there? Is something wrong."
For a moment, the breaths continued, then Keith's frantic voice rang loud and clear through the room.
"There's a fire."