Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: What the Heck? Keith is a Kitten???

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

This isn't the first morning Keith finds himself waking up with a heightened sense of awareness, but it is the worst yet. The past week, he's been noticing heightened senses, but he figured it was just anxiety or something. He's been so on edge and overworking himself as of late. But the universe needs him- needs Voltron! But today, everything is four times louder than usual, not just a smidge. Even colors are so much more vivid. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that.... No, that isn't possible. He can't be seeing more colors than existed before, right? He finds before he's realized that he's sprung out of bed and halfway through the hallway before it's even registered with him. Something smells...Nice? He finds himself standing in the open doorway of the castleship's kitchen.

"Hello to you too Keith...?" Lance asks. His face says he was about to tease Keith about something-maybe bedhead or the fact that he's still in pajamas, but he'd noticed something off about Keith too and steered clear, his tone shifting to hesitant seriousness. As Keith steps further into the kitchen, he passes Lance and almost double takes in his direction a little bit on his path to the fridge. Is.... Is Lance a little taller? No- he has to be imagining that. They've always been the exact same height- eye to eye. And they're 24 and 22, neither of them is still growing by a longshot.

"What's-" But Lance trails off, seemingly unable to ask whatever idiot question he probably had queued up. Keith can tell he's more irritated than normal (which is saying a lot), but he can't really care to curb the attitude. He feels... unsteady. Like if he lets go of the bite to his being, he'll end up soft and small and vulnerable. Keith Kogane doesn't do vulnerable. Not for a very very long time. He grabs a juice from the fridge, the sugary-est purplest one he can find. Hmm, not his usual taste but oh well. The packaging is pretty at least. What? Why does he care? Maybe it's his new senses. The color seems to swirl with another color he doesn't even have a word for and he finds himself staring at the packaging for what's probably an awkward amount of time in front of the rest of his team.

Something's not right. Anxiety burbles up in his gut, or is that a stomach ache? It feels harder to differentiate mental from physical today. Keith lets out a burp unintentionally. He hasn't even started drinking his beverage yet. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand lazily, mumbling an apology in Allura's direction, princess manners as she is. He expects a cross expression on her face when he raises his eyes, but instead, he's met with narrowed concern. Allura looks him up and down.

"Are you quite alright Keith?" she asks. Her eyes linger on his hair. What's wrong with his hair?

“What, haven’t you ever seen a bedhead before?” He grunts, slamming his butt into a stool and cracking open the drink. The liquid inside is even prettier, sparkling with that weird other color he's never seen before. It's almost animated, twinkling across and amongst the purple. Fascinating.

"It's just that you're not quite-" she pauses in astonishment as Keith lifts the juice and watches as the liquid streams down in a thin string of a waterfall. The sound of it hitting and sliding off the counter has a bell like quality he's never heard water create before. His eyes sparkle in curiosity. Allura finally finds her voice again and continues: "-acting like yourself this morning. And... are you smaller?" Keith wonders if the liquid will sound and flow the same on the floor. Will it be as pretty? He leaps agilely off the stool, balancing near the ground on the balls of his feet and pours a little over the floor of the castle ship. The tinny ringing is lower pitched and echoes slightly more. Fascinating. Something instinctual causes his hips to twitch a little in a side to side motion in his crouch. He cannot peel his eyes from the liquid pooling on the floor in front of him.

"Keith!? Are you secretly a furry and didn't tell us??" Lance laughs. Keith's head whips towards the blue paladin, feeling defensive and what?? Why would he say that? He can feel a pout on his lips, a much more childlike expression than he's used to but he can't help it? What is going on with him today? Keith tries shaking his head to shake a growing fuzzy feeling out of his skull but to no avail. ​​The shaking just starts a small dizzy headache.

"What is a... furry?" The princess asks.

"Not the time to explain," Hunk replies.

"I'll explain another time," Pidge supplies at the same time. They both look down at Keith and Pidge spots what caused Lance's taunt.

"Omygosh Keith! How long have you had a tail???" Stars are in Pidge's eyes, no doubt because of scientific curiosity. What? This breaks Keith from his mind. He spins in a mad circle clumsily knocking over the rest of the juice and almost slipping on it, ending with him tightly clutching... a tail? He feels the soft downy mediumish fur of it, like a cat tail. It's purple with tannish (near his skin tone) stripes. He can... he can feel it where his hands grip it and he grips tighter. Ooh that hurts a little. His grip lessons. This is so weird.

"What's-" but Keith can't even ask his question, staring wide eyed at the freaking tail in his hands.

"Is there something we don't know about Keith??" Lance teases again, unwilling to take anything seriously. Apparently, that hesitant solemnity from earlier has dissolved now that Lance has decided Keith isn't hurt or in danger. But, is he? That dizzy feeling in his mind won't go away, not that fuzzy expanding feeling in his chest. Keith doesn't think Lance has noticed that he's broken out into a cool sweat of anxiety, and his body feels hot. He grips his tail harder and harder. It hurts, but he has to channel his growing panic into something. Suddenly, the hum of the refrigerator is so loud and he can hear all ​​of their breathing. God, how had he never noticed how loud Shiro's breathing is???

Wait, Shiro's here? He wasn't a moment ago. "Keith, what-" the black paladin begins- his older brother figure- but Keith's already slammed bodily into him in a hug, squeezing his legs and arms around his middle tightly.

“Woah what-" Shiro startles.

"Dude clingy much?" Lance teases with a chuckle.

"Shiro I don't- what's happening to me??" Keith hates how whiny it comes out. But he can't help it.

He's scared and Shiro's here. Shiro will fix everything. Why did he think that? It takes Keith a moment, but he realizes that for him to be able to grapple around Shiro like this, hands and legs, he really must be smaller. Quite smaller.

With a start, he forces himself to detangle from Shiro, looking down at his hands. They look the same, flipping them over one another. But when he looks up at Shiro, his gaze only reaches his lower chest. What the- He looks up at Shiro and he looks up. Much higher than he usually has to to meet his eyes. Tears of frustration well in his eyes.

“Dude are you- crying??” Lance asks, shocked. Keith whips around to Lance, defensiveness gripping his chest but he has to bite his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Lance must be able to tell he’s about to cry because his face falls from amused to genuine concern like the drop of a hat. 

“Woah I didn’t mean to-“ Lance holds his hands up in a placating measure. 

“What’s wrong Keith?” Pidge asks, stepping forward. But Pidge is too loud. Shiro is too loud. The fridge is too loud. Sounds that were intriguing before are a plague on his senses now. Keith sinks to the floor, palms pressed heavily to his ears and thinking of earlier. His nose had compelled him here to the kitchen… from all the way across the ship? He shouldn’t have been able to smell the food cooking from that far away and through so many closed hangar doors. What’s… What’s happening? Keith squeezes his eyes tightly shut, pressing the palms against his ears harder. The tips of his fingers shift angles so they’re not quite flat against his head and then-

“Hey Keith stop!” Hunk yells. Keith hisses sharply at the loud sound ( SO LOUD) as Hunk wrenches Keith’s hands away. Blood tips his nails… which are claws? What in the-

“Ugh, I'll go grab Coran!” Pidge pops up, running out of the room. Keith balls tighter in on himself. He wants to tell them all to stop shouting. To stop breathing , but speaking will only contribute to the noise. Tears continue to prick at his eyes but he fights them with all his might. He is NOT going to cry in front of his team! He’ll never live it down! Especially not from freaking Lance! 

But then Hunk settles hands on his shoulders and his resolve crumbles. Feeling more vulnerable than he’s allowed himself to be in years, Keith thrusts himself in the yellow paladin’s arms, racking with sobs. Make it stop ! Hunk’s eyes widen in startled horror at his friend behaving so out of character. He and Lance share a bewildered look above Keith. Something is seriously wrong with their friend.

Eons seem to pass and Keith’s hyperventilating at this point, only making the situation worse. Anxiety balls in a tight core in his stomach and he can’t loosen it. Has he been poisoned? Is he dying? Is he-

Wait. The agony is receding away a little. He can focus on the room again. Shiro’s talking over a communicator with someone? 

“What just-” he looks up at Lance with confusion stretched across every muscle in his face. Lance returns the favor.

“I don’t know Keith! You just ran in here and-”

“Ahh Ahh, LOUD!” Keith’s hands flit to the sides of his head again and Lance looks apologetic. Pidge, having returned with Coran, gently peels a hand from Keith's head, staring at his ears intently and with a ferally curious look.

“What?” Keith can hear his voice ringing clearly, but he can tell he almost whispered the word.

“Fascinating,” Pidge says, with no such helpful elaboration.

“They’re… feline,” Allura provides. Which… WHAT?

Keith bolts upright, almost falling over. Before Lance can catch him in his stumble, he’s already scrambling to the kitchen drawers, until he can find some sort of metal tool or utensil to look at himself with. He stares dumbly at his reflection in a soup ladle. 

“Are those…”

“Galra ears,” Pidge concludes, mercifully softly in volume. His ears twitch instinctively. But.. They’re so… fluffy?

“But they’re so… fluffy.” Lance points out astutely. Hunk elbows him in the ribs.

“What? What did I say?!” Keith sucks in another hiss at the uptick in volume, twitching his tail in instinctive irritation. No, stop that! He drops the ladle, grabbing his tail again and gripping it to stop its movement. It has a mind of its own! Keith’s face turns beet red.

“What’s happening to me?” He looks miserably up to Shiro talking on the communicator, the closest thing to family he has. He grips his tail so tightly he might be breaking it. 

Hunk gently unwinds his fingers from his death grip on the appendage. Keith stumbles back into Hunk, allowing his arms to come around Keith in a supportive hug. One Hunk would usually not dare to attempt to touch-averse Keith, but it’s so clear in his body language- in his stumble backwards that Keith desperately craves that support. What’s wrong with him? Keith’s angry at his sudden weakness, his sudden desperation for something as stupid as a hug. But… Hunk’s arms are so big. Way too big. Has Keith shrunken… again???

“Yeah Kolivan. Galra ears but fluffy, a tail, and fur on his face. No, not a beard like normal for a human. No, humans don’t usually grow fur. I think it has to do with him being part Galra, but…. Okay yes but….  You can speak to him but he’s pretty freaked out,” but Shiro obediently hands the communicator to Keith. Wait fur? Keith reaches a hand up to his face and cries in exasperation. More than just peach fuzz laces his cheek. He just shaved yesterday! Is this why he’s so hot?

“Keith, I need you to explain exactly what’s going on with you. Shiro says you are going through a metamorphosis?” Keith’s distantly sure Shiro said no such thing, but if Kolivan put that much together from what little Shiro’s said and so calmly… surely he has the answers?

“I- I-” Keith has a hard time pulling words out from his mouth. He gulps, “I woke up… anxious… and I can hear and smell and see everything . I- I just want…. I just want my Pa…” Keith’s cheeks redden furiously at the last admission that seems to come tumbling out of his mouth before he can even stop it. Lance’s jaw is completely dropped now. Keith’s scared the next thing that comes out of his mouth will be taunting, but Lance’s jaw clicks shut and his expression warms to one of pity. That isn’t much better. Honestly, it might be worse. Keith frowns. He feels so small. That fuzzy feeling in his chest and his head has grown and he can’t focus on anything else. It’s persistent like a nagging itch. He tries fighting it, but it just won’t go away.

“I can explain more and would like to see you or send someone to see you to be certain. But Keith, can everyone else hear me? This is important.” Keith presses a button on the communicator, allowing everyone in the room to hear as Kolivan continues.

“As we know Keith, you are a human Galra hybrid. What you may not know is that many Galran hybrids go through a sort of metamorphosis when they reach adulthood of their non-Galran species. The science is not exact, as it isn’t exactly studied in depth, but it is an observed phenomenon. Each species of hybrid has different effects, and it even differs between individuals who are the same mix. I can help explain what you’re going through and what may happen, but I can’t tell you with exact certainty what will happen. Though there is an expert that I know that would probably be better equipped to help explain-”

“Yes please,” Keith veritably squeaks, blushing in embarrassment at how high his voice comes out. Kolovan agrees to send over the so-called expert he knows (like a doctor? He never clarified, Keith realizes) and Keith clutches to the inactive communicator like a lifeline, holding it to his chest and sighing in relief. After a pregnant pause, Lance pipes up.

“So… like puberty or…” Keith knows Lance isn’t taunting him. It was a genuine question, but he feels so on edge. He growls in frustration and throws the communicator towards his head. Lance ducks, and it smashes against the wall.

“Keith!” Allura cries in complaint. Keith’s mind splits between his anger and his immediate guilt. Allura is mad? The thought leaves Keith’s mind spiraling. He doesn’t want her to be mad. It’s never good when adults are mad. Wait- adults? Keith’s an adult. Why did he think-

Keith tries to focus on his mind and tries to breathe slowly and deeply, meditatively, but he starts hyperventilating more so than meditating.

“Keith?” Allura’s voice, heartbreakingly gentle, pulls him out of his spiral before it can continue too fast. He looks up at her sluggishly, belatedly realizing that tears have plowed tracks down his cheeks. How long has he been crouched on the floor again? Someone is at his back, and it’s not Hunk this time.

“Keith, it is alright. I am not mad. We are alone. It is just you, I, and Shiro. Kolivan is sending over a specialist- a medic of sorts. She’s going to help you walk through this. We are here for you. What do you need?” That anxiety ball continues to churn in Keith’s chest. This isn’t like him. He isn’t this weak- this vulnerable. He just woke up in a bad mood is all. This isn’t happening.

“I wan, I wan Shiro,” Keith admits, sniffing between his words. The person at his back leans further in, hugging giant arms around his chest. One is metal- oh Shiro is at his back! Shiro turns Keith around and sits him on his lap, facing towards him. Keith looks up. And up and up. Okay he’s way smaller now. This isn’t good. Before he can stop himself, he fists the hems of his now far too large shirt in his fists, and he wails.

~~

Takashi Shirogane

~~

Throughout the morning’s events, Shiro cannot peel his eyes away from his younger brother figure while he slowly but very steadily shrinks in size. He’d come into the kitchen almost imperceptibly shorter than usual, but by the time he’d hugged Shiro around the body, he’d been no larger than a nine year old. Metamorphosis, sure. Shiro could understand Keith growing a set of Galran ears, or facial stripes appearing, or even the tail, but why the shrinkage when Galrans were on average, much much taller than the average human? Shiro pushes down the panic that Keith is going to keep shrinking until he just disappears. There has to be a rational explanation for all of this. When Allura had scolded Keith for throwing the communicator and he’d burst into very uncharacteristic tears, Shiro had told everyone but himself and Allura to leave and give the kid some space. Clearly whatever was going on was greatly upsetting the paladin, who clearly wasn’t in his usual space of mind. Allura hadn’t been sure her presence would be beneficial, as it was her shout that initiated Keith’s crying, but Shiro had reasoned with her. If Keith thought Allura was still mad at him, it could make him more upset. By seeing that she wasn’t angry, it could help soothe Keith.

Shiro knew in the back of his mind that he was reasoning as if Keith were a child, which wasn’t true… but it did work. Once Keith calmed down and saw that Allura wasn’t cross with him, he had relaxed, even if not entirely.

Shiro finds himself hugging around Keith, now no larger than the average six year old, thinking of his baby cousins growing up. He loves children, always has, and his strategy to soothe Keith had worked. Does this mean he’s regressed in age? It doesn’t seem like just a metamorphosis of his body. Shiro hopes desperately that the expert Kolivan is sending arrives far sooner than later. He hadn’t thought to ask what type of specialist. Doctor? Therapist? Keith seems like he could easily use one of each right about now.

“I wan, I wan Shiro,” Keith says in his high pitched squeaky voice. And doesn’t Shiro’s heart just melt into an absolute puddle at that. Shiro cannot help himself. He squeezes Keith a little tighter in a hug and spins him around, placing him on his lap and looking down at him. It takes Keith a second to meet his eyes, like he doesn’t remember how small he is for a split second. They stare at one another blankly for a moment, Keith’s fists buried in the hem of his overlarge shirt tightly. Keith blinks slowly up at Shiro, his little lashes dark and curled. Keith could probably bat those eyes at him and Shiro would do anything. He’s so adorable (though he knows Keith would be loath to such a compliment). But before Shiro can contemplate telling how cute he is to his face (and maybe risking death once Keith is in his right mind), Keith opens his mouth and wails. Shit!

 He gathers Keith in his arms and stands rocking and bouncing the boy about. Allura looks equally as panicked and unsure of what to do. After another few moments that are in reality quite short, but feel like an eternity, Keith’s quieted down. Shiro’s anxiety about Keith shrinking into nonexistence return, because Keith’s really an infant now. He continues to bounce and sway with Keith in his arms, now loosely swaddled in nothing but his shirt, his pants abandoned on the floor. Shiro tucks the shirt underneath his legs, tucking him up as best as he can from this angle and position. This seems to further sooth Keith, who’s eyes droop. Oh has he exhausted himself? Shiro tilts Keith so that his head leans against Shiro’s chest, and his little black bangs scrunch up against Shiro’s shirt. Awe. The sight of Keith like this… so vulnerable and cute? Shiro can’t help but smile widely. Allura leans over to get a good look at him.

“He looks like… a little kitten!” Allura coos in an excited whisper.

“I just hope the expert gets here soon. We need answers and we need them now.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Team Voltron Learns About Kithren 

~~

Takashi Shirogane

~~

It didn’t take long for the expert Kolivan sent to arrive. She was an immensely tall Galran woman, even by Galran standards, maybe nine feet tall. Her name was Ken and she explained that she was a highly experienced nursemaid, and that she had seen and attended to many Galran hybrid children over the decaphoebs. Shiro had calmed Keith enough that he’d fallen into a pretty deep sleep and he and Allura had felt safe leaving him in a makeshift cradle in his bedroom. They didn’t know how mentally regressed he was and felt better leaving him with a setup where he couldn’t accidentally fall off the bed and hurt himself.

“Alright, are we ready to begin my presentation? There is a LOT of information to cover, as we are not quite yet certain how Keith himself will present. These things can be quite unpredictable, you know.”

“I think so,” Allura replies. Pidge twirls a digital pen in hand, ready as ever to take notes. Hunk and Lance have tablets at the ready as well, ever the diligent students even away from the Garrison. The instructor in Shiro beams at their readiness.

“The first and most important thing to remember is that Keith is still Keith. He is likely to teeter back and forth between a new headspace that matches his physical age, and his normal one. This can cause a great deal of stress and you all need to be there for him. As much as you can treat him the same, at least socially, try to. His physical needs will be quite different, but trying to keep as much as possible the same will help, as will developing a new regular daily routine for the kitten.”

“Kitten?” Pidge asks.

“Apologies, young Paladin. Is that not what humans call their younglings?”

“No, we usually refer to them as babies or toddlers when they are that young,” Hunk supplies. Ken startles slightly at this.

“If I’m understanding the English translation properly, are you saying Keith is only 1-2 decaphoebs old?”

Pidge runs the conversion math in her head quickly, 1-2 decaphoebs being 1.5-1.75 years old in human terms before replying: “I think so.” Ken shakes her head softly side to side, taking in this information.

“I see,” she says with a clawed finger curled under her chin in thought, “This will require much mutual information gathering then, as that is quite a bit younger than I had anticipated. You see, for Galra, our young remain kittens for nearly 20-25 decaphoebs, so that is quite infantile for us. With Keith’s mixed biology, I can’t quite say at what point that leaves him development wise, so I’ll need your assistance in understanding human milestones so that I may compare and help predict his needs. I would imagine he will certainly require Kithren while regressed to such an age, and quite often. I’m prepared for such a need, but I may need your help in producing it, especially because he may not be as amenable to a stranger’s Kithren as he will with a packmate’s, especially if he is favoring his Galran side right now.”

“He definitely seems to favor his Galran side, at least much more than he used to. He’s got a tail and the ears, little fangs and claws. But he’s really furry now. I’ve never met a Galra with quite so much hair,” Shiro offers, hoping for an explanation.

“Oh that I can answer simply. Galran kittens are thickly furred and shed their coats with age. Most adults have only slightly more body hair than human peach fuzz, but our kittens are full coated till the beginning or pre-adolescence when they begin to shed it away.”

“That makes sense enough. You say your young are considered infants until 18-20 years. Does that mean even at his normal age Keith is a baby to you?” Shiro is worried about this notion. Has…. has Keith been taking on far too much for his age? It’s never occurred to Shiro to treat him any differently than a human of the same age.

“Not quite. He likely matures much more quickly than his Galran side due to his human heritage, at least up until this point in his development. He’s likely to revert instinctively back to much more Galran age appropriate tendencies now though, at least for a while. It’s his body’s way of catching up on the care and development his Galran half should have been receiving but hasn’t been due to culturally residing amongst humans and favoring human development to this point.”

“So how long will he be a baby?” Lance asks. Shiro notes the crease of worry in his brows.

“It is not an exact science, but it could be a few months to a year of regressed development before his Galran half speeds in development to match his human biology. Typically in more mammalian hybrids, the two ages sync up quite a bit faster. In our reptilian or avian hybrids, they sometimes will develop at the speed of a Galran permanently at this point, but I highly doubt that to be the case for Keith.” The entire team lets out a sigh of relief at that point. It’s good to know Keith won’t be a baby for another 20 years. They can manage Voltron without him for a while with Shiro back, but they can’t do it indefinitely. He’s a vital part of their team!

“You mention Kithren, Ken. Is that what I remember correctly? How in the world are we supposed to produce it for Keith?” Allura asks incredulously. Shiro had almost glanced over that bit, so consumed in the rest of the frankly overwhelming information. It’s hard to realize that this is going to be a new mode of reality for Keith for maybe a year.

“Yes. I believe humans have a similar source of nutrition for their young, yes?” Shiro racks his brain a moment before he settles in understanding at the same time as Lance seems to.

“ Breast milk???” He asks, stunned, before sputtering something in Spanish.

“Yes,” Ken admits, though obviously quite confused, “What age does your young partake in it until?”

“Only until about a year, sometimes until two. So that isn’t out of the norm for human standards either. It’s just… really weird to think of Keith as that young or as needing that,” Hunk offers in explanation. Pidge has gone beet red, as has Allura.

“You…. you said we will need to help produce it? I’m not offering!” Pidge says with a little shout, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

“Heavens no! I believe by human standards you would be quite young for that, no? I may certainly be of assistance but it will also be beneficial for a close packmate to offer to aid. If there is one of you he is closest with or trusts the most, that will likely be the best candidate. Galran Kittens can be distrustful of others, even those they are regularly around, and Keith might balk at receiving sustenance from anyone but those he is closest with. Truthfully, he may reject my Kithren outright. Though hopefully, his body will recognise the urgent need for it. Speaking of which, we’ll want to get on that after this meeting sooner than later, as he’ll be quite thirsty for it.” Shiro can’t help but his gaze drift to Ken’s chest during her explanation in clinical curiosity. She is breasted like human women, though much smaller chested than most nursing human mothers. Has she recently given birth? How was she able to breastfeed Keith. Shiro can’t help but think there’s no way Keith’s going to be very willing or keen to that process, baby or no. Ken seems to understand his confusion and explains without question.

“Galrans are able to breastfeed at any point, not just when we have recently borne Kittens. It strengthens a pack that any of us can feed our young and not just the kitten’s Dam outright. We are also an intersex species, so what you would label as our ‘males’ and ‘females’ can both lactate when needed, though it is generally easier for our more female presenting members such as myself. Whomever of you is closest with Keith should be able to lactate easily if I provide the hormone for it, which you can take intravenously or incorporate into your diet. We will have to determine which method is more effective with human anatomy.” Multiple eyes shift to Shiro with that.

“Woah- I don’t know if-” Shiro says, putting his hands up in resignation. He’s not- He can’t- Ken seems to wrinkle her face in confusion.

“Is there something wrong with this? Is…. Is lactation painful in human females? I assure you, the hormone incorporation will cause no personal ill effects on your part.”

“No it’s just that…. That’s only something that women do in humans. I don’t think… I would have never thought-” But Pidge interrupts Shiro.

“Actually, plenty of humans are born Intersex as well Shiro, not to mention Trans-men who can still breastfeed. It’s not as common in humans, but there’s overlap in the sexes within our species as well at times.” Pidge explains, half to Shiro and half directed at Ken.

“Ah, interesting. Well that is certainly good to know.” Ken turns to Shiro, distress written upon her face. “Shiro, it’s extremely important for Keith to receive a fair amount of Kithren at his age. Even if he is accepting of me as a nursemaid, I will not be able to provide the full amount he shall need. Is this something you are willing to do for Keith? If not, I can try to bring another nursemaid to the castleship, but it’s possible he will outright reject us both since we are not ready for him already. His best chances would be if the both of us- you and I- provide for him. Is that alright with you?” Shiro can tell with the tone of her voice that she can sense the more sensitive nature of this on Shiro’s end: his embarrassment and hesitance, though she seems to possess none of the same hesitation. Shiro decides he can do this. He can do this for Keith. Gulping thickly, he nods. How hard can it be?

“Yes. If that’s what Keith needs, I can be there. When do I need to start hormone therapy?”

“Now, If you’ll allow me to set it up. As I’ve said, we’ll want to feed him directly after this meeting as soon as possible, perhaps during if someone doesn’t mind going to fetch him. He is likely dehydrated already. Our Kittens nurse every 1-3 hours at this age, as Keith is extremely young. It will space out with time and fluctuate if his age fluctuates as well.”

“What about age fluctuation? You’ve said he may totter between ages?” Pidge pipes up. Shiro’s extremely glad they change topics as Ken listens, rummaging inside a large case she’s brought with her, likely of baby supplies.

“Yes- hold on. Shiro, may I set up an intravenous infusion for you while we chat and I continue to explain? And may one of you fetch Keith? I’d like to start feeding him now while we talk if that is alright. I am anxious he will become dehydrated if we let him slumber for too long. That can make a kitten quite sick and I’d like to avoid that, especially while his body is still adjusting to his new development.” At this, Lance excuses himself to go retrieve Keith, face a little red with embarrassment from the topic. Shiro can’t blame him. Perhaps it's their hispanic and Japanese backgrounds, or that they’re men, but the idea of Ken breastfeeding while in others’ presence gives an uncomfortable turn of his gut. He pushes past it. He doesn’t want to shame Ken. This is something Keith needs and they need to be educated on all of this as quickly as possible. Plus, Ken can show Shiro how to– he shakes his head. This is so absurd. So foreign to him, his head is swimming. But he thinks of Keith, so vulnerable and likely scared out of his mind. Shiro can do this for him. He strengthens his resolve.

“So for age fluctuation,” Ken explains, setting up an IV drip for Shiro, injecting the line into his cleaned flesh arm and allowing the hormone therapy to begin. A cold feeling enters his vein at the injection site. Not entirely uncomfortable , but an odd feeling nonetheless. “I cannot say for certain if this is something your kitten will experience. Some hybrids fluctuate in age both physically and mentally during this stage in development, the shift usually occurring while they sleep. Keith may wake up in a much older headspace in a much younger body, or vice versa, or he may sync up very well. Only time will tell which or if any of those he may experience. So his physical needs may differ quite a lot day to day. If he experiences days where he does not need kithren, Shiro, you will still need to undergo hormone therapy, as going on and off intermittently can cause complications for your body. Galrans simply produce kithren as needed for our young, but I understand many alien mammalian species need to lactate regardless of the fact? Is that correct?”

Shiro nods wordlessly, choking on the words, but manages to say: “Yes. Human women need to lactate regardless of if a baby is nursing from them. Sometimes babies will struggle to breastfeed and we’ll bottle feed our young, either from pumped breastmilk or formula.” 

“Fascinating. That is not a problem kittens generally experience, but we’ll want to look out for that if Keith favors his human side in this. Galrans do not produce synthesized kithren, as we have no trouble nursing our young on either side, but hopefully if it did come to that, synthetic human breastmilk would be enough for Keith? Though I would air on the side of him needing kithren as opposed to human milk based on your physical description. It seems he has Galran milk teeth, which is a sign in hybrids for the need of kithren as opposed to their alter species sustenance.”

“Fascinating,” Pidge mumbles, taking notes. Shiro thinks it rather less fascinating than horrifying. He hadn’t even thought of… nursing Keith in general was an overwhelming thought. He hadn’t stopped to consider his fangs…

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

Keith’s eyes blink open. Someone’s nudging him. He turns on his side, lazily slapping away at the hand, but his movement is clumsy and uncoordinated. Why won’t his arms move the way he wants them to?

“Oh Keith,” someone says in a pitying tone. Is that Lance? What’s wrong? Keith blinks his eyes open slowly with a lot of effort. If feels like he’s still drowning in sleep and the effort to focus his eyes feels monumental. His vision is a little blurry, but he can vaguely make Lance out. Lance bodily lifts him up from his bed. He- wait what? How is Lance strong enough to do that? And why does Lance look so BIG ? Lance untangles Keith from a shirt he’d been nestled in, one far too large for himself, and totes him to his ensuite bathroom. What was going on?

Keith squeaks lazily and groggily in protest at being carried. Put him down! Then he realizes that without the shirt, he’s wholly naked. His face and ears burn and his tail twitches irritatedly when he realizes that his thighs are warmish and wet. Had he…

“I’m sorry. We’re new to this bambino Keith. I hadn’t thought you’d need- It didn’t occur to me that. Well anyway, Ken can help us with that I’m sure. Let me clean you up. I’m sure she’s got proper supplies.”

By ‘cleaning up’ Lance can’t mean… and by ‘proper supplies’, Lance can’t mean…. But a sinking feeling in Keith’s gut tells him that’s exactly what Lance means. When he starts filling a tub, Keith’s confirmed in the first part at least. A bath. While he’s small and naked. NO! Keith tries to wiggle out of Lance’s grip, but he can’t manage to move more than sluggish little jerks. He yawns wide and a squeak comes out of his throat, much to his shock and embarrassment.

“Okay I gotta admit that was adorable Keith," Lance says, setting the tiny Keith in the bath and booping him on the nose. His nose scrunches and he sneezes. The water is freezing!

“ Awe that was even cuter,” Lance coos. Keith flashes hot in embarrassment. He’s treating him like a baby! Keith’s not a baby! Except… is he? He can’t seem to summon words to express his frustration with his teammate at the utter indignity of receiving a bath after he… after he… Keith can’t deny it any more. He had totally wet himself. He wants to dive under the water and drown himself, except that the water up to his navel is there to clean off urine and he doesn’t want that water anywhere near his face. Lance finishes cleaning butt naked Keith with clinically quick precision, thank the STARS. Keith doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

While Lance towels him off and wraps him tightly in said towel, he realizes his throat is incredibly dry. That must be why he can’t form words, right? A sore throat? He desperately hopes that’s the case and not that he’s too young to speak. Memories are starting to come back now of earlier, of him shrinking and then calling Kolivan. Where was the expert? Have they come to turn him back to normal? He doesn’t know how long he can last like this, small and vulnerable and constantly embarrassed.

Lance swaddles Keith tightly in the towel, and while he is angry at the notion of being treated like such a stupid fucking baby, the tension around his shoulders and chest does feel nice and it’s at least less embarrassing than being entirely naked in Lance’s presence. Certainly less embarrassing than him scrubbing his junk while Keith’s own body betrayed him- too sluggish to protest. Lance carries him down the hall and the unknown presses into Keith’s mind like fear. Where are they going? When will he be back to normal? He feels overtired even though he just woke up and there’s a pressure behind his eyes like his body wants to cry, but his throat is just so dry. A scratchy little moan escapes his lips, but it must be too quiet for Lance to hear, or maybe he’s just distracted by the weirdness of the situation.

As they walk down the corridor, Keith becomes aware of his tail trapped in his towel swaddle, pressed up against his legs and curled around to his stomach. It’s a little painful, he’s not sure his tail is supposed to be that flexible. He’s not sure of anything. But it aches. The scratchy little moans come out again without his say-so, voicing his discomfort. Lance seems to notice this time, and softly bounces him in his arms. This just makes Keith a little nauseous. Tears brim at his eyes despite his dehydration now and he sniffs, his tongue shifting uncomfortably in his mouth. It’s like his mouth is a foreign thing to him. He needs something in it. Like food? What?

Lance brings him into a meeting room then when he realizes the entire team plus a Galran woman are gathered. Shiro has an IV drip drawn. Oh no, was he hurt? The thought of Keith’s big brother being hurt is the last straw in his frustration. He begins to cry. But his crying sounds like mewling instead, like a kitten instead of a human.

“OH He is so SMALL!” The Galran woman coos. Lance hurriedly passes Keith over to her, eager to get him off his hands.

“Oh this won’t do! Is this how you dress your young this age? His tail is smothered!” The Galran woman cries, deftly unwrapping Keith. His embarrassment at being naked, now in front of the entire crew and not just Lance, deepens and his crying rises in pitch and volume. The Galran woman shushes him, not bouncing him as Lance had, but gently swaying him in a figure eightish motion in her arms, which is infinitely more soothing. He can’t stop crying though. He is embarrassed and feels so small and this Galran woman is HUGE and… and… Shiro’s hurt! And what was happening!!! He mewls louder and the woman reaches upwards with her free hand as she’s cradling his entire body in the crook of only one arm. She reaches upwards and unclasps something at her shoulder. Her shirt? Lance and Shiro embarassedly avert their eyes as the Galran woman exposes one of her breasts. To Keith’s utter shock, she shifts him to her other side, lifting him to her nipples and pressing it into his lips. Before he can shove her away ( IS SHE CRAZY?), his body betrays him and he latches on, locking his lips on her nipple and kneading his tiny hands against the boob like a cat. This is humiliating! He begs his body to stop but it’s unwilling to listen. The sound of him sucking and kneading fills the room and his teammates watch him, stunned.

“He must be so incredibly thirsty to so willingly accept a non packmate like this- poor little kitten,” she coos down at him, swiping his black bangs away from his forehead. She checks the back of her hand to his forehead and seems pleased with a lack of fever. She gently lifts one side of his lips with her delicate claw, pressing the nail to his gums a few times to check the color. Satisfied with some measurement of health, she cradles underneath him with her second arm and rocks him gently. Keith can’t help it. He’s soothed by the motion again and his eyes fall closed, his mouth still sucking at her tit greedily against his will. His mind falls into a fuzzy sleepy place while people talk around him.

“So… That’s happening,” Lance coughs awkwardly. He and Shiro seem embarrassed by the public breastfeeding, while Hunk and Pidge don't bat an eye. Allura has stood up and left entirely by this point. Perhaps Alteans were much more modest in that arena. Coran has turned as orange as his hair. Keith suckles, nibbling with his milk teeth and kneading at her breast. His throat doesn’t feel as sore and he finds himself purring.

“That’s it little one, have as much as you’d like. If you need more, you can have more. You’re growing and you need your kithkith.” Kithkith? What’s that? Keith can’t bring himself to unlatch and his embarrassment fades away with the soothing rocking and sweet milk taste. His eyes blink closed again. He can hear as conversation ticks up again as something is being explained, but his ears are glazed over with sleepiness and bone-weariness as he lies basically limp as a slug in this woman’s arms, even stopping kneading, but he doesn’t stop suckling.

“Do you have any… protection in your supplies? Keith will be needing it now,” Lance offers.

“Protection? I assure you he is entirely safe with us here,” the Galran woman says, confused. Keith’s cheeks burn again. So that was indeed what Lance had meant earlier. He was worried about that. His brows furrowed in frustration- he isn’t actually a baby. And besides, they’ll get him back to normal in a minute, right? There’s a cure for this, RIGHT?

“He. Well I don’t know about Galran babies, but human babies aren’t exactly potty trained at the age he seems to be right about now.” Keith is eternally grateful Lance didn’t come out and say he’d found him wet in the bed. Except a second later he says exactly that. Dirty traitor!

“When I went to go get him, he’d wet the bed and I had to give him a mini bath. That’s what took me so long.”

“A bath? But he is so damp? How on earth long did you lick him for?”

“Lick him?? Stars no I just gave him a bath. In a tub. With WATER!” Lance cries exasperatedly.

“Ah, no need to shout! It’s just another cultural difference. We bathe our young by cleaning them ourselves. It isn’t good for kittens to get wet too often, it can dry out their skin and soap is usually irritating to their fur before it sheds away when they’re older. We usually lick our young clean ourselves. Galran tongues have a microbacteria that live on us once we are grown and act as a self cleaning mechanism for such a purpose.” Pidge is practically glowing with fascination, madly scribbling down notes on her tablet. Hunk and Lance look at each other with looks of disgust.

“Yeah well we won’t be doing that…”

“Not to worry. I have wipes for such a thing you can use. Our teenagers- as you call them- don’t possess the microbacteria yet and we have wipes they use when caring for a kitten in the absence of an adult.” The Galran woman seems to pause before saying, “you said he wet the bed? I assume you mean urinate?” Lance nods in confirmation.

“Hmm. Galran kittens Keith’s age cannot urinate or defecate on their own. They need stimulation to do so. If he can do so on his own, his restroom habits will likely default to whatever the human standard is for this age. I would say clearly based on his anatomy, he favors his human side in that department.” Keith doesn’t think he can take any more embarrassment, small, breastfeeding, and fully naked in front of his team while this stranger talks about his junk so casually. He finally finds the willpower to break away his lips from her, lazily and uncoordinatedly slapping at her chest to try and push her away. The sound of slapping flesh under his tiny palms only serves to further redden his cheeks. Put me down !!!! He wants to cry.

“It is alright little one, I know I am quite empty for a while now. If you are not done, you can have Shiro. I need to show him how anyways.” What?? Keith is confused and belatedly he realized that at some point in her explanation, she’d switched him to her other breast and he’d drunk from her other tit too. He hadn’t even realized he’d been moved or removed from her breast at all. He’s suddenly passed to Shiro, who looks down at him bewildered.

“You’ve likely had enough hormones to try, Black Paladin. Leave the IV in and let it continue for now; you can lift your shirt from the other side like this to begin with.” The Galran woman stands over them, helping Shiro lift half his shirt over his shoulder, exposing half his chest in order to leave the IV on the other side undisturbed. It’s a little awkward and the shirt sits over his torso like a sash, leaving his one pec exposed.

“But I don’t… I don’t have breasts?” Shiro’s voice squeaks up at the end in question uncharacteristically. NEVER has Keith seen his older brother so flustered in his life.

“That is quite normal even for Galran males. The stimulation of your nipple will help with the kithren production. Here, let me help you.” What the heck is kithren. And WHAT? It was weird enough for Keith to breastfeed from the random Galran woman, but from SHIRO? Nope Nope. Absolutely not. But again, Keith’s body betrays him as he can’t bring himself to struggle at all. Instead, his tongue licks at his lips lazily, pushing into the air with nothing there. His tiny hands open and close, as if looking to knead on something. Really? He’d just drinken the Galran lady dry- apparently- how can he still be so thirsty???

The Galran woman instructs Shiro how to hold Keith, wrapping a hand around the back of his head to guide his mouth up to Shiro’s nipple. Keith immediately latches on, nibbling at the bud and kneading Shiro’s non-breast with his little grubby hands. Shiro gasps a little. Sorry Shiro, I didn’t mean to! I can’t help it! Keith blinks furiously up at him, hoping that he can understand. Keith doesn’t want to be doing this! After a few seconds, Shiro’s pec swells and milk comes out of his nipple. Okay that was weird. But soon, Keith can’t bring himself to care or focus on anything anymore. The milk is soothing and he calms, finding his care for the weirdness of the situation and escaping away like water through open hands. He relaxes into Shiro’s hold, naked and vulnerable but comforted and feeling loved. His tail twitches lightly in a lazy little wag and his ears flick. He closes his eyes, lulled by the sucking. The talking resumes over him but again his ears are murky with noncomprehension.

Pidge clinically explains human toilet habits at Keith’s now apparent age to the Galran woman, who accepts the information in stride. They send Coran to fetch Allura and go to a nearby space mall to obtain diapers and other necessary supplies. Keith falls further and further into sleep, unable to stop himself from purring in Shiro’s embrace.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Keith, Hunk, and Lance Learn about Scruffing

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

When Keith wakes up, his mind is still fuzzy and his muscles are really sore. His arms and legs feel like lead weights and oddly enough, his ears and tail feel like if they don’t move, he’s going to explode. So as his eyes blink open, his ears pivot and twitch and his tail swishes.

“Oh hey little man, so you’re awake,” someone coos at him. The voice reverberates down his whole back. Oh, he’s strapped to someone’s torso like in a carrier? That’s weird how is he small enough to- but then Keith remembers the smallness and the events of… whenever it was he was last awake. How long has he been asleep for? Like absolute magic, whoever it is (oh it’s Lance) answers his unasked question.

“You’ve been out for about two hours little bud. You must’ve been really sleepy. Are your muscles sore? Ken said you probably would be pretty tired and sore the first couple of days.” DAYS? Why aren’t they getting me back to normal now??? Keith swallows, gulping a little at the thought. He nods his head. Good, at least he can do that. His mouth feels really scratchy. His tongue bobs in his mouth and licks his lips instinctively. When he realizes that’s what happened before… Earlier, he claps his tiny hands to his mouth to hide the evidence. Unfortunately, Lance has already seen it.

“Oh that’s right- it’s probably time for kithren. Okay so Ken said while emotionally and physically you may be young, you still might have your memories and your awareness. Is that the case right now? Am I speaking to baby Keith or adult Keith?” ADULT KEITH, his mind screams. But his mouth doesn’t cooperate.

“Oh my bad, probably should stick to yes no questions. Okay am I speaking to Baby Keith?” Keith shakes his head no. Lance seems to let out a sigh of relief at that.

“Phew glad you’re still in there somewhere. Okay this will make it easier to explain. Listen okay? So Ken, that’s the expert Shiro sent, is a Galran nursemaid. She’s worked with a ton of hybrids before and she says all that you’re going through is totally normal. You’ll probably bounce back and forth mentally and physically between a Galran kitten and your adult self. She said that since you’ve been deprived of kithren your whole life and live a pretty high stress lifestyle, that that’s why your change was quite a bit more abrupt than some others go through. Following?” Keith’s head swims, but he nods his head yes. His tongue is still annoyingly twitchy, so he sticks his hand in his mouth. He realizes the movement is super babyish, but it’s better than his tongue licking the air in an obvious beg for…. Yeah no he doesn't wanna think about that. Lance seems unable to disguise a chuckle from behind him. Yeah yeah laugh it up Lance. You wouldn’t be laughing if the roles were reversed!

“I got it, it's almost time, pequeño Keith, just let me finish,” Huh. Keith thought Lance spoke spanish. Does he speak Italian too? He just remembered he’d called him bambino earlier, which Keith is distinctly sure is Italian, not spanish. He wishes he could ask. As Keith’s vision clears a little more, he realizes he’s standing (or rather hovering strapped to Lance’s chest) in front of a stove. Lance is cooking? The smells assault Keith’s sleepy nose. Spices and herbs and meat. While the heightened senses were overwhelming earlier, they’re fascinating now, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame and he can’t help but sniff incessantly. His tiny hand not in his mouth reaches out to the food cooking on the stove, but he can’t reach.

“Okay I get it! You’re hungry holdup. Hey Pidge! Can you watch this for two more minutes then take it off the burner? I gotta feed Keith!” Pidge, who Keith hadn’t realized was in the room, comes from nowhere and stands at the stove while Lance takes Keith away and walks them to a side of the kitchen where he sits them on a stool. The position rests Keith’s butt on Lance’s lap while he unhooks the harness from his front. It’s then that Keith realizes his thick padding beneath his butt and in between his thighs. His tail sticks out through a hole in the back. WHAT? He doesn’t need- but before he can start wailing, he remembers earlier. Okay so he does need- he doesn’t wanna say it, even in his mind. Okay he supposes wearing pants (he decides to call it in his head to avoid the mental embarrassment) isn’t so horrible. At least he isn’t wet and if he…. If he does then he won’t make a mess everywhere which would probably be more embarrassing right? Keith’s face burns, though he isn’t sure his blush is visible beneath his furred cheeks. Thank the stars for that at least. And he seems to be dressed in some sort of a onesie, also with a hole for his tail in the back. At least his… pants… weren’t visible. It doesn’t matter that obviously someone put him in it. At least it isn’t visible now.

Lance turns him around, bouncing him on his knee ever so slightly. It’s a lot more gentle than when he tried bouncing him earlier and the motion doesn’t elicit nausea like last time. Keith lets out a garbled gasp of surprise and Lance chuckles.

“Okay, so Ken told us to treat you the same as much as possible when you’re mentally… you know yourself…. But that doesn’t mean you’re not you if you’re mentally a baby still. Ugh I’m doing a poor job explaining. Okay well, anyway, since you can understand me I’m going to walk you through everything and try to think up answers to questions you might have.” Keith wishes he’d answer why they’re not trying to fix this and get him back to normal!!! But his mouth still won’t cooperate, the only movement it’s willing to do is to suck on the four fingers he has in there. Lance goes to take his hand out of his mouth, but Keith wrenches his arm away. This is better than his stupid mouth licking the air and letting spit dribble all down his chin. Lance sighs, giving up quickly. Good. These are my hands! I can suck on them if I want!

“Okay so I don’t know what you remember from earlier so I’ll try to explain it again. Give you the sparknotes version. Kithren is essentially Galran breast milk, though its components are a little different than human breast milk, hence why we can’t just use human formula. You need Kithren every 1-3 hours, though based on when you woke up, it looks like you’re running closer to needing it every 2-3. Galran kittens need a LOT more kithren than human babies need milk, and Galran usually feed their kittens in tandem with their other packmates. Ken has Shiro on hormone therapy so that he can produce kithren too.” Oh, so that explains the IV drip and Shiro being able to…. Weird but at least things are making more sense now. Keith’s throat itches in what he supposes is a growing need for kithren.

“The rest of us might try it too, but Ken says kittens can be super sensitive to who they accept kithren from, though you did accept Ken’s even though she’s a stranger. But that could have been because your body was desperate for the stuff at the time. Now that you’re at a better baseline, we don’t know if you’ll accept it from Ken next time. Okay what else. I wish you could just ask me-” Lance trails off. Same Lance. Same! Keith thinks in annoyance. He sucks his fingers harder, the itchiness in the back of his throat is getting painful.

“Oh- well another thing Ken told us is that Galrans can only breast feed when their kitten is latched. We had to explain to her what bottle feeding was. They only produce kithren in the presence of a nursing kitten. It’s some sort of hormone/pheromone thing. But Shiro seems to produce it regardless more like human women do, so we think you’ll be able to bottle feed from Shiro’s kithren at least. So I have this for you.” With that, Lance produces a baby bottle from a bag. He squirts a tiny bit onto his wrist, probably checking the temperature.

“It’s still cold so it’s good. Kithren is supposed to be cold, not warm. I hadn’t put this one in the fridge yet but Shiro just… pumped it… not that long ago so it’s still cool. Anyway, here you go little dude.” Keith wants to protest. He’s sore, and tiny, and frustrated because he can’t speak anything he wants to, but his throat does itch increasingly uncomfortably. And he remembers how soothing the kithren was last time. Maybe if he just lets go a little…. Can this ease some of his anxiety? Instead of his body betraying him before he can act, Keith consciously decides to take in the bottle this time, gripping it lazily with tiny claws. His muscles in his arms aren’t enough to actually hold it upright though, so Lance has to tilt it down to him. Keith latches on and starts sucking in earnest, the liquid immediately nursing the hurt in his throat.

“Ouch dude!” Lance yipes. What? What did Keith do? Oh. His tiny claws are kneading aimlessly on the bottle of their own volition and he’s scratched Lance’s fingers. He tries to hold the bottle further back, but Keith can still reach. He keeps scratching at Lance’s fingers. Sorry Lance, I can’t help it! He hope’s Lance isn’t angry with him. The thought of the big tall guy holding him becoming angry with him is terrifying. Lance could yeet Keith across the room and it’d probably immediately kill him. Tears burgeon in his eyes. No no no stop that! You’re not actually a baby! Keith tries telling himself. He sniffles around the lip of the bottle.

“Oh hold on Keith. Sorry, I’m not mad,” Lance seems to notice his distress, “Hold on.” He retracts the bottle from Keith’s mouth- or he tries. When Keith’s lips sense it leaving, he clamps on with his little fangs, trapping the nipple in his mouth. Lance tries to pull it again to no avail.

“Hold on Keith, let me just-” He finally manages to wrestle the bottle from Keith’s mouth and he immediately starts to wail. His cries sound more kitten-like at first, before they quickly raise in desperation and start to mirror a panicked human baby more. He wasn’t done! His throat still hurts!

“Shit-” Lance darts down the hall with Keith in tow, screaming the whole way. They make their way to the lion hangar where Lance goes to his suit. In a few more seconds, he has just his gloves on and he reintroduces the bottle to Keith, who takes it with an angry little frown.

Thank you, was that so hard? Keith thinks angrily to himself. He finds his hands kneading at Lance’s hands again, but this time Lance doesn’t flinch away with a hiss. The padding of his gloves protects his skin.

Then, the tall Galran woman (Ken was her name?) bursts into the hangar flanked by Hunk. She brandishes a screwdriver, comically small in her claws. Her eyes flash wildly.

“Who dares hurt- Oh,” As soon as she sees Lance with Keith in his arms, she relaxes, but with confusion etching her face.

“Apologies young paladin. I heard your kitten crying and he sounded in a great deal of distress. That is not usually a sound Galran kittens make unless they are in mortal peril.”

“What- crying?” Hunk asks, equally as confused, but by Ken’s reaction rather than the fact that Keith had cried.

“Galran kittens usually softly mew for things they need. It is a rather cute sound. That was… horrifying.” At this, Lance bursts out into laughter.

“I’ve been around so many babies in my life I just tune it out at this point.” Keith raises an eyebrow at that, as much as his sore and stunted baby body allows. He’d known Lance had a rather large family, but were so much of them younger than Lance? Keith’s family had only been him and Pa, and later Shiro. Everyone in his life growing up had been much older. Keith wonders what it would have been to be around babies all the time. That must be why Lance hasn’t been making fun of him or batting an eye once he got used to what was going on. Lance understood babies, it seemed.

But no, Keith doesn’t want Lance to be used to this. He doesn’t want Lance taking care of him with baby expertise. He doesn’t need this- they surely have to be working on a cure! Why was no one talking about a cure? Keith focuses all his attention on finally getting his body to cooperate with him on something for once: spit out the bottle. He spits the bottle’s nipple out and starts to whine. They aren’t listening to him! Sure he can’t say anything, but can’t they understand he wants them to tell him about the cure they’re working on?

“Oh Keith, you’re not done yet. Ken said you need a lot of this stuff. It’s good for you.” Lance tries pushing the bottle back in Keith’s mouth, but he clamps his mouth shut hard, so hard his little fangs clack against his other teeth. Ouch that hurt. He isn’t quite used to having fangs. His whine turns into a little mew, like a kitten in distress.

“Oh come now it’s alright little one,” Ken coos, swiftly crossing to Lance and lifting Keith up into her arms.

“Why won’t he just drink it. We confirmed he’s still Keith in there earlier. Shouldn’t he just understand he needs kithren nutritionally or something? We talked about it. He seems to still be acting a lot like a baby if it’s really an adult Keith in there,” Lance asks, pointing at his head at the last part. Ken answers while undoing her top at the shoulder again. Not again! No, stop! I’m. Not. A. Baby! Keith mewls louder, bordering human baby cries again.

“He may have his memories and his mental faculties of his adult self, yes-” Ken tries to lift Keith to her breast, but he keeps his lips clamped shut. She tries gently prying open his lips with a claw, but Keith stays shut. She speaks around him while trying to carefully pry open his mouth: “but- he- still- has- kitten- instincts. Oh really Keith? It is not so bad. Kithren is tasty and you really do need it. Are you able to overpower your kitpickiness for me?” Keith nods his head no with a staunch frown.

“Kitpickiness?” Hunk asks.

“Many kittens are extremely picky, like I’d explained about him potentially rejecting certain people for breastfeeding. He may also reject bottle feeding, which I suspect is what he was doing just now. Keith is still there, but he likely won’t be able to fight certain instincts right now, especially with as young as he is. It must be terribly distressing for him.” Yes, it was. Now can they please explain how they’re working on the issue?

“I’m so sorry Keith. I usually would not like to force the issue, but Shiro hasn’t had enough time between feedings to produce more kithren and if you won’t drink from a bottle I’m your only other choice.” Angry indignation roils in Keith’s gut. She’s going to force him? How- and how dare she! He raises a little fist in protest and tries to punch her, but his little hand is but a tiny useless sausage and he slaps her with an open hand with about the force of a butterfly wing. Stupid tiny useless baby body. He kicks his legs in irritation, finding pleasantly that they actually move at his behest. His tail thrashes out underneath him, aimlessly batting the air.

Ken takes that moment to raise him higher, tilting him upwards. He squeaks in surprise as she bites the back of his neck and his whole body goes completely limp, including his senses. He’s blind and he can’t smell anything! Can’t feel his limbs or tail! But he can still hear it seems. He can still sense as his body is lowered and his mouth is pressed up against presumably Ken’s breast. She nudges his lips open with a claw, finding absolutely no resistance and the taste of milk fills his limp mouth. A finger strokes his throat, manually depositing the kithren down into his stomach.

“What was that?” Hunk asks, his voice portraying he’s quite stunned by the action. No more than Keith was by it though, surely. Indeed. What was that???

“Kittens have pinch-induced behavioral inhibition. Essentially, by biting the back of the neck, you can get them to go pliant when needed. We generally avoid such an action if possible, as it can cause muscle soreness when done too often, but once in a while should have no effect. It’s used for all sorts of things- evolutionarily, if a pack is fleeing danger or a predator and we need our young to be silent for the pack’s safety, one might use it to ensure there is no mewling. Or some use it in cases of disobedient kittens, though that’s generally not a method I employ. Or in this instance, for Keith’s own health. Since he refused to nurse enough kithren on his own, I had to do this so I could manually feed him. If he does not get enough kithren, he can become seriously ill and it’s quite literally my job to manage to avoid that if possible. Still, I won’t want to have to do this every time so we’ll really want to get him to take a bottle or perhaps more of you can undergo hormone therapy. Shiro cannot produce enough kithren quickly enough to feed Keith on his own, and we do not know how long Keith will stay this young. He may still teeter between ages. Only time will tell.” Oh so they have been researching whatever’s going on? The hope that Keith might teeter between ages was a good notion. Perhaps he’ll be back to normal by the afternoon! A combination of this revelation and the cool kithren in his mouth helps soothe him.

“I can,” Hunk offers. Hunk can what? Keith’s mind is growing fuzzy again and he fights the cloud looming over his consciousness.

“Can what?” Lance asks, also confused.

“Start hormone therapy. I mean, it doesn’t hurt us right? And Keith needs this or he’s going to get really sick.” Oh. That’s actually…. really sweet. Keith may desperately not have to do this whole breast feeding thing at all but he is touched by Hunk’s willingness to help him out. Keith’s not sure he could offer the same thing if the roles were reversed. 

Suddenly, Keith makes an embarrassing observation about the state of his… pants. He is both wet and drooping. He did not. He couldn’t have. He- But as Ken shifts him from one nipple to her other, his… pants mush beneath him, full and also quite warm and wet. Oh. So he definitely did. And… and both ways… Lance and Hunk haven’t noticed, thank the stars.

“Oh, that’s so interesting. I understand what you mean about protection, Lance. It seems scruffing has had another effect on Keith as well.” NO. Why did she have to tattle on him like that??? Keith huffs annoyingly around her nipple, the only movement his body can manage the energy for. His vision is slowly returning to him, as well as the feeling in his fingers and toes.

“What do you- OH! Sorry Keith. Well, I don’t really know why I’m apologizing, you’re the stubborn asshole who wouldn’t-”

“Hey, language Lance! He’s just a baby!”

“No he’s not! He’s just baby shaped. Plus Ken did say to try and treat him as normal as possible. And normally, I’ll call him an asshole whenever I like to!” Keith finds himself strangely pleased with being called an asshole by Lance for once and clings to the normalcy it provides. But maybe a different insult would be better at the moment. He’s too embarrassed at the moment for that to be the topic of his insult. Ken gently rocks him in that same figure-eightish movement which is still so inexplicably soothing. As the feeling in his lips and face returns, he starts to suckle on his own instinctively, and the clawed finger stops massaging his throat. He finds himself drifting off, eyes blinking heavily closed. 

“Would you mind young paladin? I apologize. As I am not familiar with the toilet habits of your young, I am not sure what is needed at this juncture.”

“Not at all. C’mon Hunk, I can show you how to change a diaper too.”

“Ugh Whyyy can’t you just do it? I’m going to be breast feeding him! Doesn’t that get me out of diaper duty?” Keith’s vision is clearing more now, and he stares balefully up at Ken, still angry at the scruffing despite his having calmed down. She pulls him off her nipples, as she’s empty of kithren and Keith’s angrily nibbling harder with his fangs. Spitefully, he hopes it hurts. Ken passes him down into Lance’s arms.

“Well it’ll be good for you to at least know, in case I’m not around. I’ll teach the others later too, but the rest of us can try to take care of it so you and Shiro don’t have to since you’re already contributing to kitten Keith duty.” Hunk can’t argue with that logic. They take him to a room down the hall. The sway of Lance’s steps has that fuzzy feeling crashing down around his head again. He’s getting terribly sleepy and a weird warm feeling blooms in his chest. He finds himself drooling and quietly babbling, unable to stop himself and weirdly not caring. Why should that be embarrassing? He’s just a baby anyways.

They arrive at their destination. Is this Keith’s room? His stuff’s been moved around and there’s a changing table off to one side. Hunk moves to where his bed is- used to be? In its place is a mostly built giant crib. Oh maybe that’s what Ken’s screwdriver had been for. Ken trails behind and goes to finish building it while Lance and Hunk have a mini lesson.

“Okay here you go Keith. And sorry, I know this isn’t ideal for you but try not to be upset about it okay? It’s not your fault,” Lance says, but his words have grown warbly in Keith’s ears, which twitch playfully. Keith squeals in delight as he’s set on the mat. The surface is slightly squishy and he can hear the soft fabric indent as he’s placed upon it.

“Ugh Keith? Am I still talking to adult Keith?” Keith doesn’t nod yes or no, but instead reaches down and grabs one of his feet, wiggling his toes and tail and giggling madly at the discovery he’s made. 

“I’ll take that as a no. Well, at least that’ll make this easier,” Lance sighs with relief. Hunk holds a finger above Keith’s face as Lance rummages off to the side in a bag. Oh wow that looks fun. Keith let’s go of his foot and reaches up for Hunk’s finger, stretching higher and higher as Hunk wiggles his pointer finger in range before taunting him by raising it out of his grasp. Each time he veers close and Keith misses, he giggles madly. Ken looks over fondly from her building with a warm smile on her face. 

“Awe I can’t help it he’s so cute like this! I just wanna squish him!” Hunk coos over Keith while Lance sets up his supplies. Lance starts talking Hunk through the task.

“So when he’s only gone number one, it’s easier and you’d just need to remove the diaper, clean him up with wipes, and replace it. But since he’s made a bit more of a mess than that, you’ll have to really lift his legs up quite a bit more.” At this, Lance picks Keith’s bottom up by the ankles, lifting his rump up to the exposed air. Keith fidgets uncomfortably, flicking his tail back and forth.

“I’ve never done this with a tail before, so that’s- ugh- new, but you’ll just want to wipe up really well and then rediaper him. But make sure to wipe in between everything and powder as well so he doesn’t rash. Especially with him having fur and a tail it’s really important to make sure you get everywhere.” Now, Keith’s been held up for so long, he doesn’t want to be here anymore. He’s not amused. He starts squiggling more in Lance’s grasp.

“Hold on pequeño Keith, just a sec.” Lance finishes thoroughly wiping every surface from Keith’s behind, underneath his tail, to up around his penis and thighs. Lance slips a new diaper underneath him- one with little green, red, and pink stars printed on the front, and pulls Keith’s tail into the hole in the back. He finishes taping the rest up and sits Keith on his butt. There’s some sort of cinching apparatus he fastens around the tail to tighten the gap between his backside, the diaper, and the tail, showing Hunk how to do so for future reference.

“Wow Lance, you’re like- really good at this stuff,” Hunk compliments, picking baby Keith up and propping him up on a hip with his forearm. He helps Keith wiggle him back into the onesie.

“Thanks. Like I said, I have a bajillion little siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins. God I miss them.” Lance’s voice is a little somber at the end, which Keith picks up on. He wiggles around, waving his hands in the air, motioning for Lance to pick him up. He can hold Keith! Maybe that will make him feel better? Lance smiles, lifting Keith up and snuggling him close to underneath his chin. He breaths into the fluffy black hair on the top of his head.

“Thanks Keith. I feel much better. Your snuggles are miraculous,” Lance chuckles. Keith giggles before he sneezes, soft and airy.

“I could cry. His sneeze is just a little kitten sneeze, that's the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Hunk cries. And then Hunk is tickling Keith at his ribs, sending Keith into a mad fit of giggles.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: It ends in a Nest

~~

Takashi Shirogane

~~

After the informational meeting with Ken and breastfeeding Keith (which was STILL the weirdest thought on the planet. On any planet, really), Shiro passed the kitten off to Lance to diaper and dress with the supplies Allura and Coran brought back from the space mall. Weirdly enough, it’d been hard for Shiro to part with Keith, even after he fell asleep and couldn’t find himself able to latch properly- too sleepy and Shiro nearly empty. Keith had been so cute, lips gently parted around Shiro, eyes drifted shut. He looked so different now, purple fuzz adorning his skin at every square inch and fluffy ears exploding out the side of his head. Even with his new baby face though, one could still recognize the slant of Keith’s nose and the shape of his cheeks. It was still his face, even if it was quite a bit smaller and chubbier and his eyelashes were so much longer and darker.

Shiro had watched Lance cart baby Keith away with such an odd feeling in his heart. Was this what new mothers felt when others watched over their babies? Separation anxiety? Shiro shook his head. That was absurd. Keith was still an adult. The hormone therapy must already be affecting his body’s chemistry. Well, it was certainly affecting his physiology at least. Shiro knew what taking such a hormone would do to him, but knowing he would have breasts and actually having them were two very different sensations. His shirt fit over-tight over his chest, which chafed as his nipples were sore. He had small bite marks around his areolas. Nothing that broke the skin, but he was tender and wished Keith didn’t have fangs. Still, he knew the kitten couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help any of this.

Shiro thought of how he could explain it. The rest of the paladins seemed to be adjusting to this new reality quite well. Shiro was a bit surprised at how naturally Lance took to babysitting, but he’s pretty sure Lance had grown up caring for younger children, so that made sense. It makes him realize how little he knows about his teammates. Allura and Coran seemed particularly averse to baby related care. Was it because it’s Keith, someone they know as an adult? Was it just the breastfeeding bit? Was that Altean modesty at play? Or was it perhaps another reason altogether?

Shiro glides through the castleship, having taken a break from all of the craziness to just let his mind rest. But it’d spiraled and overcooked more than rested so he might as well get back to work in some capacity. Voltron is lucky that they’re really between missions right now. He knows they’ll have to get back to universe-saving ventures soon, but for the next month, the blade of marmora has things really covered and they for once have the luxury of pulling back to take care of their newly infant teammate.

Shiro enters the casteship kitchen to find Lance cooking something. And Oh- isn’t that absolutely precious. Strapped to his chest in a harness is a fully asleep kitten Keith, softly huffing and occasionally ear twitching in his sleep. Keith must be exhausted. Ken had said he might sleep a bit more than usual at first and have some muscle soreness after his transformation. Shiro supposes anyone would feel the same under the circumstances. His tiny clawed hands and feet stick out of a soft onesie and fall so limply at his sides, that he looks like a small stuffed animal.

“Hey Lance. Thank you for taking Keith. I just- I just needed a moment to myself to let all of this sink in.”

Hey Shiro. No sweat. He’s not even woken up once since you passed him over. Made the first diapering really easy, especially because I had to figure out how to do it with a tail. Same premise but different mechanics you know.”

“Do you have many little siblings? Little cousins? I know you have a big family but I realize I’ve never really asked.” Shiro settles into a kitchen stool while Lance pats around the kitchen. Shiro realizes he didn’t even know Lance could cook, but he flits between multiple pots and pans with such a nonchalant expertise that he must be quite sufficient at the task. Hunk usually does all their cooking.

“Yeah. I have three younger siblings: Giovanni, Elio, and Elena, and four older siblings: Veronica, Marco, Luis, and Rachel. Nadia and Silvio are my niece and nephew and are Luis’ kids. Nadia was Keith’s current age when I left. I- He’s probably so big now.” Shiro can hear the longing in his voice, the homesickness.

“Giovanni doesn’t sound very hispanic. You’re Cuban, right?”

“Half, yeah. Most of my family is Cuban, but my dad’s half Italian. My grandparents were itching to name at least one of us an Italian name and by the time Giovanni came alone, my parents finally gave them what they wanted. My other grandparents were so mad,” he chuckles.

“What is it like to have so many other siblings?” Lance turns to him, eyebrow raised at the question. Shiro doesn't usually ask so many personal questions, but sue him- he’s curious. 

“I liked it. I can’t really compare it since I’m the middle kid. I’ve always been one of a litter so to speak. My older siblings tease me a lot but are fiercely protective and supportive. Every single one of them came to every soccer game or violin concert I ever had. My little sibs are annoying as all get out but the sweetest. Elio is the youngest, and when I left he was just learning how to read and write. He hates it though. The only way he could be coaxed to his lessons is when I bribed him with a game of checkers after he finished. I’d promised to teach him chess next. I hope I still get the chance to. Or maybe someone else has taught him while I’ve been gone. I hope they’re all doing alright without me.” Shiro isn’t quite sure what to say to that. ‘They’re totally fine without you’ is definitely not the right thing to say, but he doesn’t want Lance to spiral into worry.

“I’m glad they all have each other. I’m sure they all miss you immensely. It’ll be really wonderful when you get to see them again.”

“Thanks,” Lance says, flipping something in a pan and then pouring some sort of sauce over another pot, “You said how’s it like to have so many other siblings, not what’s it like to have siblings in general. Does that mean you have some too?” Wow Lance was perceptive. Shiro hadn’t even meant to ask the question like that. But he supposes fair is fair; he’s delving into Lance’s personal life after all. Just then, Pidge enters the kitchen and sits on a far table, engrossed in a laptop working on some type of code. She doesn’t even acknowledge the two of them.

“Kindof. I used to be a twin. I had a brother; his name was Akira. But he died when we were really young. Maybe 6? 7? That time of my life is a bit of a blur. He got really sick and there just wasn’t anything anyone could do. It’s a little crazy every once in a while I still turn behind me, expecting him to be there. Even though he’s been gone most of my life.”

“Awe man Shiro, I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing anyone can do about it, it’s okay.” Well, it wasn’t okay perhaps, but at least it’s been long enough that he can talk about it. It kinda feels nice for someone on the team to know. It wasn’t a secret, but someone on the team knowing about it feels more like he isn’t hiding it. Keith stirs in his carrier and Lance gently bounces. Keith’s little chubby cheeks bounce slightly and he purrs for a short beat, like a little bark, but soft and ‘cat’ instead. Damn, that was adorable.

“I get it. Like it's not the same, but I miss my family so much it hurts sometimes. I haven’t cooked anything Italian or Cuban in forever. I know Hunk loves cooking and that’s awesome but he doesn’t know my family’s recipes. All this baby stuff just has me thinking about them a lot. Especially Elio. I wanted to cook something from home, you know?”

“I understand.” They sit in companionable silence for a while before Shiro decides to dismiss himself to go help Ken and Hunk set up the rest of the baby stuff. They’d been building a lot of stuff all morning, unboxing a host of things Ken had brought with her in her shuttle for Keith. He searches a short while before finding them in Keith’s room, building some sort of giant crib.

“Why’s it so big?” Shiro asks, ducking around the corner of the doorframe.

“Oh hey Shiro!” Hunk beams from underneath where he was screwing a piece into place.

“If Keith is a hybrid that oscillates between physical ages, it’s most likely to happen in his sleep. As such, it makes most sense to build him a nest of a larger size so that if he shifts in the night, he won’t get stuck. Actually, Galra do not sleep our young separately from ourselves. We generally sleep in a pack nest, at any age. But especially with a kitten so young that has so many needs and needs such frequent nursing.” The reminder of nursing makes Shiro think of the discomfort of his shirt again. He absentmindedly runs a hand over his chest. Ken notices.

“I have extra shirtclothes you may borrow until you are able to acquire your own that fit you properly. That cannot be comfortable.”

“Thank you Ken.”

“But of course. It is what I am here for. Do any of you have any questions thus far about Keith’s care? The goal is that I can train you to care for him properly soon so that I can go back to my own job and duties, but I’ll stay as long as is necessary.”

“Doesn’t Keith need both of us for him to nurse? You said that I can’t produce enough kithren for him alone.” The thought of Ken spiriting away too quickly is a little anxiety-provoking. What if they do something normal for a human baby that seriously hurts Keith because of his Galran half? Like Lance hadn’t known not to bathe Keith in a tub. Or they assume Keith doesn’t need something because he’s Galran, but only for him to take after more human needs like with his diapers.

“This is true, but I hope to start another one, maybe two of you on hormone therapy as well if you are amenable to it. I understand the green paladin and the alteans are not interested in such treatment, but perhaps the blue paladin? He seems quite caring of your kitten.” That was true, though caring for a baby and volunteering to nurse one were two very different things. Hunk noticeably doesn’t say anything, perhaps considering it in silence or hoping neither of them suggest him. Shiro doesn’t say anything.

“Regardless, not to worry. I will stay as long as necessary. Does anything confuse you thus far?”

“If you usually all sleep in a cuddle pile, is that something Keith needs right now?” Hunk asks, standing up from underneath the crib and moving to screw in another part on the side of the structure. 

“It wouldn’t hurt, but it’s unclear if Keith takes after his Galran or his human half in this aspect. It’s clear much of his biology still favors his human side. I do not yet know if he has the scent glands we do. For Galra, we have scent glands on the sides of our necks and eventually on our inner thighs, though those do not develop until much later on in adolescence. If Keith possesses those on his neck, he may physically require more physical touch than your human children. When Galran kittens are not scented often enough, they can fall ill or experience heightened anxiety. Being scented by pack makes them feel secure in their safety, and doubles as a biological need. Being around him often enough and holding him should be enough to keep him properly scented, which he’ll be receiving at feedings anyways. Sleeping in his nest with him won’t hurt, but perhaps his human side will require independence? I notice you all have separate sleeping quarters. It is something you will have to discover through trial and error.” That makes sense. Keith’s always been such a fiercely independent person. Perhaps sleeping in his own room at night, even if he has to be woken up every 1-3 hours for a feeding, might be something he’d prefer. Shiro groans at the thought of such a horrible sleep schedule. He hopes to not have to take the brunt of all night feedings. Hopefully Lance or Hunk step up and offer to do the hormone therapy soon too. Or maybe Ken’s more nocturnal than Shiro is.

They chat a while about other random things kitten-related before Shiro pops away to train. Hopefully the physical exercise and normal routine will help center him amongst all this weirdness.

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

Later that day, Keith finds himself playing peekaboo with Hunk in the hangar while he’s on babysitting duty to give Lance a break and to clean up. He’d fed from Shiro and Ken a few times now each and Hunk has some sort of a tube thingy in his arm. But every time his curious little kitten mittens go to reach for it to give it a curious tug, Hunk pulls his hand away! Silly Hunk, he wanted the tube! So Hunk makes a show of closing his eyes, pretending not to know Keith’s there, even though Hunk’s hands balance Keith on his lap on either side. Right before his little hands can grab the tube, Hunk snatches his fist away, claiming ‘oh no you don’t!’ and opening his eyes. The back and forth sends Keith into little snickering each time, laughing enough to tilt backwards. He’d fall off Hunk’s lap if not for his hands keeping him balanced on his giant thigh. Keith bounces up and down on his butt on Hunk’s lap, content and happy.

“Aaaaand no you don’t!” Hunk cries. Keith babbles enthusiastically, sticking a few fingers in his mouth and garbling around them.

“Hoo!” He cries, Hunk’s name tricky to shape on his lips. 

“Awe little buddy are you trying to say my name? That’s so sweet, I’m gonna cry!” His voice warbles a little at the end. Keith’s throat starts to itch a little, but he ignores it in lieu of focusing on Hunk. He doesn’t want Hunk to cry! He furrows his brows, thinking hard on how to not make Hunk cry. Ah yes! He leans forward at Hunk’s bent down face, taking his fingers out of his mouth at the last second and planting a kiss on his face with a big smack. Hunk sits stunned for a second before chuckling and bouncing Keith a little higher on his thigh. Oh! That’s high! Keith squeaks in surprise.

“That’s so sweet, Keith. Thank you little kitten!” Keith purrs in a brief burst at the praise. He helped! He made Hunk happy! His throat itches and he sticks his fingers in his mouth again. He’s having too much fun to have to go and nurse Shiro or Ken.

“Hoo!” he cries again. They play their game a while longer, Keith trying to grab Hunk’s tube and Hunk foiling his plans. A few bobs on Hunk’s thigh later and Keith squeals in surprise again, because the jostling has loosened his bladder. His diaper pools soggy and warm underneath him. Hunk doesn’t seem to notice. Each subsequent bounce is squishy and warm, petering off into a slightly uncomfortable damp as it begins to dry against his fur. Wet and hungry, this game is quickly losing its appeal.

The next time Hunk bounces Keith, he hasn’t even tried to grab the tube thingy. Keith begins to mew, begging for something. He isn’t sure what he needs, really, but he’s uncomfortable.

“Awe what do you need, Baby Keith?” Hunk asks with a worried frown on his face. Keith’s face scrunches up at that around his mews, which continue. He doesn’t know what he wants! But he’s wet and scratchy! Oh, he’s thirsty, so thirsty. Keith’s tiny clawed hands reach forward and meet Hunk’s torso and he kneads his shirt. Hunk seems to gather the meaning.

“Oh, do you want me to get…. Well I suppose I can do that now… I- Holdon,” Hunk maneuvers Keith on his lap skillfully and manages to remove his shirt one handed. His once flabby round stomach from the beginning of their Paladin days is now hard and toned, the bulk of his body consisting of muscle instead of fat after years of heavy cardio and healthy food goo diet. He’s still the biggest of the paladins by far, but his girth is strong and sturdy now. Keith tries to fall forward into his abs, wanting to be pressed up against his warm skin.

“Hold on little man, that’s too low,” Hunk chuckles. He scoops Keith fully into his arms then, lifting him to his chest. Keith immediately finds a nipple and starts nibbling and sucking. Nothing comes out. He mews, upset at his lack of kithren.

“Oh ow, Keith! Your fangs are sharp!” Keith doesn’t care. His hands find Hunk’s chest and he starts to knead, his claws remaining relatively sheathed for the time being to be gentle on his skin. He kneads and nibbles until a cool liquid begins to bead against his lips and then a somewhat steady stream finds rhythm with his suckling and Keith slows in pace, contently savoring his drink.

“Oh wow, that feels so weird,” Hunk examines, leaning back in his chair and allowing gravity to settle Keith more thoroughly against his tit, which is now swollen in size. The round flesh presses against Keith’s cheeks and nose as he nurses. Hunk’s breast is a bit bigger than Shiro or even Ken. After twenty, maybe thirty minutes Keith’s nursing and kneading but no kithren comes out. He mewls around the nipple in his mouth, scrunching his brows in focused confusion. This rouses Hunk, who was falling asleep in his chair.

“Oh, sorry bud, here.” Hunk detaches kitten Keith from the one side and flips him to latch to his other breast. Keith latches on with gusto and sucks, but again- nothing! He huffs annoyed around the bud in his mouth, nibbling and kneading with renewed vigor. Hunk shifts, leaning back again and presses a hand against the side of his breast curiously, seeming to observe the flesh that used to be so much flatter just a moment ago. That helps to massage some kithren out, which finds its way down Keith’s throat, soothing him further. This feels so good. Keith purrs around the nipple, admiring the soft warm feeling of Hunk’s boob pressed up against his little furred cheeks. He slows in his nursing, his eyes drooping. Hunk drifts as well, lazily patting Keith’s padded bottom every now and then, which Keith responds with a lazy tail curl. Hunk’s sleepy bobbing Keith up and down every once in a while lulls Keith to sleep.

Who knows how long later, Keith blearily cracks open a sleepy eye when the sound of the hangar door swishes open. Ken stoops in, looking for something, but spots Hunk and Keith. Her lips part into a wide smile and she ducks back out, apparently content to let them doze. But that must not be the case, because a moment later, she’s back and lifting Hunk up by his knees and back. He doesn’t stir, seemingly exhausted from having fed Keith. Keith, in turn, remains balanced in Hunk’s chest against Ken’s own. She carries the both of them like that through the castleship like they weigh nothing until they’re in Keith’s room. Ken sets Hunk and Keith both on the giant cribbed bed, settling pillows and blankets around them, covering Hunk’s now bulging chest with thick blankets. He stirs, grabbing Keith around the middle and pulling him closer in his embrace.

Ken leaves them, and a moment later, returns with Shiro, who’s dressed in a shirt very similar to Ken’s, two swathes of lighter swishy fabric criss-crossing his torso and clipped together at the breastbone and shoulders. He undoes the clasp at the shoulder, letting down one side and exposing a breast as he climbs into the crib with Hunk and Keith. He too seems a bit sleepy. Is it nighttime? Ken leaves them alone as Shiro gently pries Keith from Hunk’s arms and holds him up to his boob, allowing him to lazily latch and nurse sleepily. He lulls to sleep again, sicking all the while until Shiro pulls him away and presses him to his opposite teat. Keith lulls back again, allowing a fuzzy sleepiness to pull his mind away as he settles into sleep with his mamas.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Keith Wakes Up Big

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

Keith squirms in his crib. It’s been some hours and he’s fed from Shiro, who’s joined their little cuddle pile in the nest. He’s so warm and comfortable and full, but so are his pants, and he’s uncomfortably sticky. But he’s so comfortable and he doesn’t want to move, so he stays silent, blinking around him. His vision is a little blurry, with sleep? With age? He can’t tell. Shiro and Hunk doze peacefully. Keith’s half pressed up to Shiro’s chest underneath a blanket. His shirt is still untethered at one of the shoulders. Keith’s head is positioned not far from Shiro’s nipple. He wiggles to it, latching on lazily. He’s full, but the motion is soothing anyway. Shiro stirs, but doesn’t wake as Keith nurses from him again. When his stomach aches slightly painfully, he unlatches, but he still wants something in his mouth. He sticks his fingers in and sucks around them, rolling onto his back. The ceiling above them is smooth and light blue. A dimmed light rims around the edges of the ceiling.

Just when Keith rediscovers he has a tail, trying to grab it (but it has a mind of its own!), the door to the room swishes open. Lance peers in, eyes peering over the inhabitants with a smile. As he goes to duck back out, Keith holds his hands out to Lance.

“Baloo!” He squeaks, making uppy hands.

“Shh, Keith! You’re gonna wake everybody up!” Lance swiftly and quietly sweeps over to the kitten, bending over the giant crib and Shiro and lifting him into his arms. He quietly notes his fullness and moves to the changing table, grabbing a bag full of supplies and leaving to another room.

After spreading out a mat and all the supplies he’ll need, he takes to cleaning Keith up. Keith wiggles, babbling incessantly. Lance wasn’t paying him any attention. Lance! Lance! Play with me, I’m bored! But Keith’s lips don’t cooperate and a stream of baby gibberish slips out. He huffs annoyed as Lance unbuttons his jumper and removes the cinch around his tail. When Lance goes to lift his legs to remove his diaper, Keith kicks out impatiently with his little feet, meowing in protest.

“Quit it Keith,” He says, but his voice is patient and calm, perhaps even a little amused, “Just a second kiddo. You’re filthy! Shiro and Hunk must’ve been asleep for a while. You’re so full.” Lance manages to lift Keith’s squirmy legs up into the air, wiping his skin and fur clean with his supplies. He must be starting to rash, because when Lance is finished cleaning, he rubs some sort of oil into his coat and skin, concentrating on the area underneath his tail, his bottom, and the creases at his inner thighs. The oil is cold and Keith squeals in protest, mewing with all his tiny might.

“Hold on a second pequeño Keith,” Lance coos, tapping some sort of powder onto his skin. The smell is soft and flowery and Keith’s nose twitches, sniffing strongly at it. A little cloud of it gathers at his nose and he sneezes a few times in quick succession.

“Sorry Kitten,” Lance apologizes, finishing diapering the kitten and zipping him into a jumper. This one has feet and mittens attached. Keith waves his hands as hard as he can, trying to fling off the hands, but they’re attached to his sleeve. His claws are trapped inside! He huffs in indignation, trying to find a way to free his little hands.

“No, Keith. I wanted to try this and see if you’d be open to taking a bottle again. You’d started to last time! Don’t you want to try?” Keith huffs angrily again, too focused on freeing his hands to really listen.

“Listen, we’re all very happy to take care of you as long as you need it, but when Voltron does eventually have to go on missions, you’re going to have to be able to go more than a few hours without the rest of us. Other than Coran, and I don’t think he’s really all that comfortable doing hormone therapy, which I can understand. It’s just not something all of us want to do. Please try for me? It’d be so good if you could be bottle fed.” Lance’s words are watery and slippery in Keith’s twitching ears, but he manages to catch and understand enough of it that he stops batting his hands every which way. He blinks slowly up at Lance, unable to say ‘sure’. He nods up and down a little and gazes owlishly up at him.

“Good boy, thank you Keith,” Lance coos, tickling Keith around the middle. Keith immediately giggles, and loses control of his bladder again. The full feeling in his stomach lessens a little, loosening some of his discomfort.

“Ope wait hold on, let me fix that.” And then goes the process of undressing and rediapering Keith yet again. He mews when Lance reapplies the oil and powder, squirming around on the mat. But after a while, the process is finished once more and Lance holds Keith in his arms, producing a bottle from the fridge. Oh they’re in the kitchen now? Keith hadn’t noticed them walking in. As Lance moves the bottle towards Keith’s mouth, he opens obediently, and starts to nibble at the lip. Lance smirks with satisfaction when the kittens kneading claws are effectively sheathed by the mittened onesie, saving the skin on his fingers from shredding.

Keith suckles quietly, closing his eyelids in slow blinks when Allura enters the kitchen. She sees the two of them and moves to leave, but Lance turns to face her.

“Wait, Allura-” Lance starts. Allura turns around, hesitance lining her face as she stares down at baby Keith, “Do you want to hold him?”

“I don’t know Lance, I-” 

“Oh c’mon, I know you want to.” Allura doesn’t deny it, and soon, Keith’s shifted into her embrace as she holds the bottle up for him. He stares up at his teammates with big, calm, wide eyes.

“He’s just so… small,” Allura concedes, her tone lacking both fondness and malice.

“Yeah. I remember when my baby cousins and siblings were that tiny. Do… Did you have any siblings, Allura?”

“Not at the demise of Altea, no. But I did have a little sister once upon a time. She passed away when she was an infant. Common sickness. It broke my father’s and mother’s hearts. And my mother passed away not long after from the same illness.” Allura sighs deeply, some of the tension in her neck receding as she looks down at the nursing kitten in her arms, “I suppose all of this dregs up… negative emotions for me. But it is not Keith’s fault. It’s also just that-” Allura pauses, patting Keith’s back as he nurses, causing him to burp lightly around his bottle before he continues to suckle, “well, with no more Altea, Coran and I are the last Alteans. It… It is sad to think I will never have a little one like this. Perhaps if I fall in love one day I’ll have a child, yes, but it’s sad to think there will never be another Altean. My species. My people…. They’re simply gone. And it makes me so terribly sad.”

“I understand,” Lance offers in condolence, “but even if you do have children, they’ll still be half Altean right? And that’s still part of you and your people. I’m only a fourth Italian and it’s still a part of who I am and my family still cooks traditional Italian food and celebrates some holidays the way that side of my family does. You’re not the end, Allura,” Lance smiles forlornly.

“Thank you Lance,” something cold drips onto Keith’s forehead and he scrunches his nose. Oh, it's a tear. Allura’s crying slightly and softly, “When did you become so wise?” She brings a finger to her eyeline, gently wiping a tear away.

“Oh well you know, I’ve been around the block and I’m awesome. Comes with the territory,” Lance says in what a few years ago, Keith might’ve interpreted as arrogance, but after knowing Lance so long, knows to just be his stupid sense of humor.

After the pair finish feeding Keith, they return him to the nest, where Hunk and Shiro haven’t even shifted. What time of day is it? Or were they just exhausted from their hormone therapy? Keith can’t help but notice that mentally, he’s feeling slightly more himself than earlier. But he’s still so dang small and can’t really tell anyone. He might as well just go along with things. Maybe they’ll have a cure for him in the morning? It was still distinctly distressing that no one was discussing a cure, but maybe they just didn’t want to bring it up around him and give him false hope? That has to be it. Keith obediently lets Lance tuck him underneath a blanket in the middle of the crib between Hunk and Shiro before he and Allura duck out, probably to go to sleep in their own respective room if it really was nighttime.

___

Keith wakes up alert and suddenly, practically pouncing out of his bed. He stumbles over- was there a railing on his bed now? Wait no, his bed’s been replaced with a large round one, with railings on the side. The nest. He remembers. 

In his mad scurry over the side, he fumbles the railing and falls to the floor with a thud. OW! The noise wakes Shiro and Hunk, who sit up abruptly, looking around and to the empty crib in front of them. A small torn onesie lays where Keith had been.

“Oh shit- where’d he go???” Hunk shouts.

“Ugh loud…” Keith groans, moving to sit up and rubbing his head which he’d hit on the floor in his less-than-graceful descent.

“Oh sorry Keith. Wait- KEITH!” Hunk shouts, scrambling to the edge of the nest where Keith’s voice came from. Keith looks up to see Hunk peering down at him with an ecstatic look on his face.

“You’re back to normal, well you’re normal both ways according to Ken, but you’re back to the way we know you as! Well sorta you’re still furry and Galra and you’ve still got a tail but you’re older again! Well, chronologically speaking you’re always the same age but physically-” But before Hunk can continue his endless breathless stream of excited rambling, Shiro interrupts, having picked up his shirt and clasped it over his shoulder to fully cover himself.

“Welcome back Keith,” he says, offering Keith a hand. Keith takes it, gratefully, squinting and blinking. His eyes feel odd as a third membrane thin eyelid expands over his eyes from the middle as he blinks. Freaky . He takes Shiro’s hand, rising to his feet. It’s then that he spots the torn onesie in the nest and realizes he’s standing in nothing but an overtight… pair of pants.

“Woah, hey turn around!” He squawks. Hunk and Shiro oblige, but Keith’s not sure what to do now. Does he ask them to leave? He’s closer to the door than they are but if he crosses the room, he’ll be standing in their eyesight again and he does NOT want them to see him… dressed like this. He remarks thankfully that at least he’s… dry. Ugh this is so humiliating!!!

“OUT!” He yells, and both of them scramble from the room. Shiro ducks his head back in front of the opening of the door to say something, but nopenopenope. “CASTLE, CLOSE DOOR!” Keith shouts, hating the break in his tone. He hasn’t sounded like that since he was a teenager growing into his voice. He looks down at himself, checking. Nope, he’s adult him. More… Galran than before… but he’s back to 24 thank the STARS. 

He quickly rummages around his drawers, dressing himself in the only thing he has with a tail hole- his Blade of Marmora mission outfit. He chucks his dry diaper in the trash receptacle in the wall angrily, mad that it was on him in the first place and infinitely grateful that they were able to find a cure for him quickly. Keith debates hole-ing himself up in his room to save himself from facing anyone, but he decides that going back to a normal routine will be his fastest way to pretend none of this ever happened as much as possible. He looks side to side out his door. No one’s in the hallway.

Keith makes his way down the corridor to the training room. Once he makes it in the simulator, he realizes that he was so preoccupied, he’d left his marmora blade and his bayard in his room. Oh well, he’ll use one of the simulator weapons. He doesn’t want to go back down the hallway and potentially run into anyone. Keith smashes his way through seven simulation levels with a sword until he’s panting. Usually by now, he’d be sweating something fierce, but it never comes. Hmm, maybe there were some pros to being Galran. His tail flicks impatiently, ready for level 8, but a voice shuts down his plans.

“Simulator, end level.” Keith whips around to face Shiro, whose presence is flanked by Pidge and Allura.

“What the fuck was that for? I wasn’t done,” He says, still panting. Shiro’s face has a soft edge to it, incongruous to the hostility just thrown at him. He’s looking at Keith like- NO. He’s looking at Keith like he’s a toddler throwing a tantrum. He’s normal again! Can’t Shiro see that-

“We just want to talk. How much do you remember, Keith?” Keith knows his anger is misplaced. Like it usually is, but he’s so mad at Shiro for bursting this bubble. He was finally starting to feel normal again, to getting to the point he could pretend none of this happened. They can move on. They’d found him a cure! Sure he was a little more Galran now, but he was back to himself at least.

“Leave me alone,” he growls, his tail flicking out in irritation behind him, his ears leveled flatly and pointed down at his heels.

“Keith- just. It’s okay, just what do you remember?” Shiro asks again, sighing in indignation like he’s dealing with a child . No! Keith doesn’t want Shiro looking at him like that. Like he’s… small.

“Nothing,” Keith lies. He remembers it all. Every horrible, agonizing, embarrassing minute. Even if it hadn’t been bad at the moment, the memories sting him now with a vengeance. His adult perspective on it makes the memories reek with shame. He’s not a baby. He can take care of himself. He wants to pretend this isn’t happening, but even if he’s not looking down at himself, he can see Shiro’s feminine chest and it’s a horrible reminder of the day prior. Keith finds himself staring. Shiro shifts, gaze undeterred and unashamed.

“Really? Because I think you and I both know that’s a lie,” Shiro challenges. And Keith knows it's obvious. He wouldn’t be behaving so defensively if he didn’t remember anything amiss. But he doesn’t care.

“It doesn’t matter what you remember; we just need you to understand what’s happening to you. Aren’t you curious what’s happened? We can explain,” Allura steps forward, brokering peace in the tense air. Keith falters. He does want to know what happened. And why he had returned to normal age but was still Galran in appearance. He’s always been part Galra, but he’s never looked the part before. Keith lowers his simulator sword, which he realizes he’s been holding in a death grip.

Keith follows the trio to the castleship kitchen, where Shiro goes to place something in the fridge. He removes a pitcher and pours a tall glass of water in a glass and passes it Keith’s way. The back of his throat is itchy and he takes it gratefully.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, chucking it down quickly. It doesn’t quite wet that itch, but it does help. By this point, Hunk, Coran, and Lance have joined them. Keith is a little peeved: Shiro, Pidge, or Allura must have snuck a text their way telling them to come. He feels like they’re all staring at him like a bomb about to explode, which makes him want to explode. They’re driving him nuts! 

“Sooooo, what do you remember?” Hunk asks. Keith refuses to even look in his direction. If Shiro’s a reminder of yesterday, Hunk is even moreso, his chest even larger.

“I was…. Shrinking. Bits and pieces after that,” Keith concedes, still lying through his teeth but admitting more than earlier.

Then, a last figure ducks through the doorway. It’s that tall Galran woman, Ken. Keith wants to make eye contact with her least of all. He didn’t even know her!!! And he’d…. She’d… Keith shakes his head and looks to his feet on the floor. He’d not even put socks or shoes on. Damnit, he’d forgotten. His cheeks burn in thankfully invisible embarrassment. He looks away from his feet to a crumb on the floor and focuses on that.

“Keith, I am glad to see you are doing well this morning,” Ken says plainly, “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Keith spits, unwilling to bring his gaze from the crumb.

“I’m afraid that doesn’t do, Keith. I need descriptions while you have the mental faculty to provide them. Details, Keith. How do you feel specifically? Is your throat scratchy? Are your senses overstimulated? Do you feel wet-” Keith stands up suddenly at that, knocking over the stool behind him. His hands don’t know what to do at his sides other than fist tightly into balls at his thighs as his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.

“No!” He shouts, cutting her off. It’s a lie. His throat is a little scratchy and his hearing does feel extra fine tuned- oversensitive. Even his own shout in his ears is too loud and he winces, his ears turning back and down to try and drown out some of the volume. It’s pretty obvious he’s lying, he supposes, but he’s been through it, okay?

Keith,” she says with authority, “Keith look at me,” Ken commands. Keith doesn’t want to, but he hesitantly meets her gaze, gripping his tail now in his hands sheepishly.

“Is the back of your throat scratchy?” she asks again, pressing with narrowed eyes that sweep over his whole body, making him feel almost as naked as he’d woken up this morning. Keith stares daggers into her stare, not responding to the question which is as much of a dead giveaway as anything.

Wordlessly, Shiro takes the pitcher out of the fridge again, pouring it into his empty glass. The liquid is white and thicker than water. It’s milk. Keith downs half of that too, soothing the scratchiness in his throat much more than the water had.

“Does that feel better?” Keith wordlessly nods, feeling stubborn in his silence.

“Then today is a day you will still need Kithren. Keith’s eyes widen and he stutters. He hadn’t realized that milk was kithren specifically. If he could spit it out, he would, but he’s already swallowed. Instead, he shoves his glass further from him on the counter, giving it a dirty look.

“Keith, it is alright. Galren young need to drink Kithren for many deceph-”

“I’m not a baby!”

“YES, you are,” Ken asserts. Keith’s eyes dart up to her in surprise.

“It is not uncommon for hybrids to be embarrassed, to be confused, but you needn’t be so combative, Keith. It is alright. Will you let me explain what is happening to you?”

“Nothing’s ‘happening’ alright? You guys got me a cure for the de-aging thing right?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asks. Keith stares at him incredulously.

“Well obviously I was hit with some sort of de-aging ray right? And I’m back to normal now so you guys found some sort of cure? Or it wore off? It doesn’t explain why I’m Galra now, but I’ve always been half Galra so at least that can explain it maybe. But you guys did find a cure, anyways, right?” He adds the last ‘right’ on the end uncertainly, as the faces in the room fixed on him with mixed expression. Pity, sadness, surprise. They…. They didn’t find a cure??? Then how…

“Are you perhaps ready to let us explain now, red paladin?” The use of his title grounds Keith and he clings to it like a lifeline.

“Yes,” Keith admits, sitting back down on another stool, not bothering to pick up the one he’d knocked over.

“You were not hit with any sort of ray, drugged with any type of serum, or affected by any type of magic, Keith,” Ken says plainly and clearly, “this process you are undergoing is a normal biological process for Galran hybrids. Many hybrids, when they reach maturity of their non-Galran species, experience a period of regression and metamorphosis. This will continue to go on for a few months to a year. You’re going to need help and support, and that is okay. Allow your team to help you. There is no shame in needing it.” Keith’s mind whirrs. But… it’s only been a day? Two?

“But…. But it’s only been like a day and I’m already aged back up! How is it still going on for longer?” He can’t bring himself to say ‘ for up to a year ’ because the possibility is too scary. Shiro moves closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at first, but then relaxes, allowing the bracing touch to anchor him from his spiraling.

“You will switch back and forth, most likely. Usually hybrids shift in their sleep. You may shift every few days, or you may spend more expanded periods of time as a kitten. Keith, you need to reprioritize your health. Overworking and straining yourself isn’t healthy, and it certainly won’t be during this time of metamorphosis either.”

“I’m not a frickin’ butterfly!”

“I do not know of what a ‘butterfly’ is, Keith, but you are going through changes, and there is nothing to be ashamed about. I have helped many a hybrid through this shift and you shall be no different.” The idea of not being the only person to have had to go through this is comforting, though only slightly.

“And you have your team, your pack to help guide you through it as well. I will stay as long as I am needed, but to me it seems that you are already well on your way to having things covered with your team. I can stay, or I can go back to my job and my home and come as needed, or you may call me with questions. Stay or go, I am here for you Kitten, and whatever it is you want, I can help.” Keith tenses at the use of the term ‘Kitten’, but can’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach that Ken’s completely and utterly right.

He’d been feeling oversensitive and tense weeks before the day he’d shrunken, but he hadn’t been paying attention to his body, his nerves, his instincts. This is all his fault. If he’d just been paying attention… this wouldn’t be happening to him. Stupid. No one says anything for a brief moment, and the tension in the room bleeds out more at Keith’s lack of a fight. Keith supposes that's as good as agreement for him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Color Fixation

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

The day passes with Keith trying to avoid the rest of the paladins as much as physically possible. He trains, hides away in various parts of the castle, and when he almost walks in on Shiro pumping kithren, he flees, embarrassed as he can possibly be. That was his fault too: two of his teammates going through such a big physical change… for him. But they shouldn’t have to! Keith eagerly awaits the end of the day. Maybe if he goes back to sleep, he’ll wake up normal normal, not even Galran. It’s probably a stupid hope, but maybe this is all a dream that he can wake up from if his dream self goes to sleep? A paladin can dare to dream.  When FINALLY, the day is ending and Keith can go to bed and sleep this whole experience away, he reaches a conundrum.

His bed had been replaced by that big round cribbed nest. A changing table stands in the side of his room, taunting him. He scowls at both of them. No thank you, that won’t be necessary. He changes into pajamas, but instead of crawling into the cribnest, he storms off to find a couch in another part of the castleship to crash on. There’s no way he’s sleeping in a crib like a baby. He finds a comfortable enough couch and throws a thin blanket over himself, determined to pass the night away in unconsciousness, but sleep won’t come. Tossing and turning, his ears and tail twitch in annoyance. He’s been fighting that scratchy feeling at the back of his throat all day, and it’s not letting him go back to sleep. When he finds himself letting out a tiny mew of frustration against his will, he decides enough is enough. He’s alone. He can swallow his pride enough to fix this and get back to bed. Besides, if his throat betrays him any louder, he might wake someone up and he wants to be alone.

Keith slumps off the couch like liquid and trudges his way to the kitchen. His arms and upper back ache especially from sword training all day. Maybe he overdid it a little? He takes the pitcher of cool opaque liquid from the fridge. It’s milky and white. At least that goes some distance into Keith being able to pretend it's normal milk, right? He pours himself a glass and drinks, long and slow. The painful itches that’s been plaguing the back of his throat recedes and his chest warms despite the cool liquid traveling down to his stomach. His spine shivers a little and he shakes out his tail. It was sweet and undeniably delicious. Keith fills a second and then a third glass, frowning at the lowered level of the pitcher. It’s going to be obvious he’s had a little midnight snack. Looking around the empty castle kitchen, he decides to partially fill the pitcher with water to cover his tracks and wash his glass, leaving no trace that he’s been here. He swirls the pitcher slightly for a bit to make sure the water and kithren mix seamlessly. He doesn’t know if it'll stay that way, but it’s worth a try.

Satisfied that no one will be able to tell he’s been here, he returns the pitcher to the fridge and slinks away back to the couch. On his way, he hits the bathroom, thankful to take his own piss, thank you very much. By the time he returns to the couch and hits the cushions, he’s already falling asleep.

~~

Katie Holt

~~

Pidge leans back from her chair, stretching out her arms and back. The modifications she’s been working on for Green are well underway. Satisfied with her progress, she looks at the clock. Fuck . She hadn’t realized how late it’s gotten. Halfheartedly scooping some of the spare parts on the workbench and then realizing it’s not worth it, she dumps them in a corner of the room to be organized and cleaned up tomorrow. It can wait. She yawns, stretching again before heading off to her rooms.

Halfway to her quarters, she hears a low rumble emanating from a common space. She turns the light on to find Keith passed out, sprawled out on a couch with his arms flopped over the cushions, knuckles grazing the floor. His ears twitch when the light turns on, but he doesn’t wake up, thankfully. Before Pidge can turn the light back off and leave (Keith has been irritable all day and Pidge does not want to put herself on Keith’s bad side, thank you very much), something incredible happens.

Before her eyes, between one breath and the next, Keith’s body shrinks down like a deflating balloon until he’s maybe four years old in human terms, older than he had been the day prior. Pidge wishes she could rush over and document the change. How had Keith’s body accounted for the loss of mass? What triggers the shift in his chemical makeup? Is it a neurological trigger? Hormonal? Would there be some sort of device Pidge can rig that would predict when the transformation would occur beforehand so that he can know it’s going to happen? Pidge’s mind starts to whir worlds away but then she’s snapped out of it when she watches Keith turn over, perilously close to the edge of the couch. Oh fuck!

Pidge barely rushes over in time enough to catch Keith mid air on his fall to the ground. He doesn’t even wake up. He’s absolutely tangled and dwarfed in his pajamas. What does she do with him?? Pidge’s been in space with Voltron for two years, since she was fifteen, and she hadn’t really been around children back on Earth or out in space. She doesn’t know how to take care of a two year old! Let alone a Galran one. Let alone Keith . This whole thing was super fascinating on a biological level, but on a social one it was terrifying. Pidge can’t imagine how pissed she’d be to be deaged and oscillating back and forth like Keith seems to be. She doesn’t want to make the wrong move and be condescending or neglectful. Does she treat Keith like he’s 24 or 4? 

Keith shifts in her arms, bringing his small chubby hand to his lips, absentmindedly sucking on a knuckle. Pidge has to admit. He’s pretty cute. His hair is a lot curlier at his younger age, thick and fluffy, and his eyelashes are so incredibly dark. Even with his ears and tail and fur on his skin- even de aged- she can still see Keith’s facial features undeniably there. Pidge wonders how similarly Keith looked as a baby the first time around, when he was more human looking.

Pidge decides to take Keith back to her room. He probably shouldn’t be alone this small and if he sleeps with her, she can at least prevent him from toppling off the bed. Then she won’t have to wake up anyone either. She wraps his way too large shirt around him, bunching up his pajama pants around him as well and cradles him as she walks away to her room. He breathes softly into her own shirt, breaths coming out in little huffs. She settles the two of them in bed, positioning Keith against her side so that if he moves or wakes up, Pidge’ll wake up too. She’s always been a pretty light sleeper anyways.

When she settles down into place, she realizes she’s a little too awake to fall asleep now. She silently removes a hair tie from around her wrist and braid’s baby Keith’s curls back from his forehead and ties it to the side. The repetition of moving her fingers in a practiced way calms her mind and she’s able to fall asleep too.

___

Pidge is woken up suddenly when she feels the weight against her shift and a frantic ‘gotta pee!’ in a high squeaky voice. Before she can react, Keith scrambles off the bed and frantically waddle-runs to Pidge’s bathroom. She wipes the sleep out of her eyes. Keith’s like, two right? He can handle that on his own. After a moment or two, Pidge hears a hesitant, “um… Pidge?”

“Yeah Keith?” Pidge asks, sliding her legs over the side of the bed and getting ready to come over and help. She desperately hopes he doesn’t need help with actually using the bathroom. Had she misjudged? Is he too little for that?

She crosses the threshold of the door and spots Keith, standing on the bathroom floor, holding his shirt in his tiny hands. He’d left his too large pajama bottoms behind in his scramble and stands wearing his shirt like a little dress. Pidge pushes down the thought of how cute he is like this.

“Yeah?” Keith shifts between his feet, obviously wanting to ask a question. Pidge doesn’t ask again, waiting for Keith to answer on his own.

“I can’ reach da sink,” He points his whole arm up at the sink, which is indeed way too tall.

“Oh. Here ya go little buddy,” Pidge internally curses for calling him that. She doesn’t want to condescend. She doesn’t know if he’s mentally regressed as well as physically. Ken had said he may not always be synchronous with his mental and physical ages as he oscillates during his development right now. She’d taken notes on it during her lecture. Pidge goes to Keith, scooping him up under the armpits and holding him up by the sink. He efficiently washes his hands, humming a little tune to himself while he does it. Pidge recognizes it as the alphabet song. Okay so probably mentally regressed as well.

After Pidge sets him back down, he trots back over to the bed and scrambles up on top of it, snuggling into the sheets and comforter and turning in a little circle like an actual cat before plopping back down and immediately closing his eyes. Okay, Pidge supposes he has no problems with this setup. She chuckles and crosses the room to rejoin him.

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

Keith wakes up in a bed. A bed? He had sworn he’d gone to sleep on a couch… He shifts, and when he stretches out his legs, they tap into something. A calf? Keith looks up to see that Pidge is curled around his body, her calves beneath his feet. Oh he’s small again.

“Go’dammit!” he squeaks in irritation. He wanted to wake up normal normal, not small again! Pidge shifts around in her sleep at the noise and grabs an arm around his middle, hugging him close like a stuffed animal. Keith feels his cheeks burn. NOPE.

“I’n na a stuff animal Pidge!” he squawks angrily, and he hates how his speech sounds in his ears but he can’t help it. His mouth feels slow and awkward to form words. At least he can talk though, however squeaky. His little shout rouses Pidge, whose eyes shoot open as she lets go of his middle quickly.

“Oh sorry, Keith.” Well at least Pidge wasn’t cooing at him like he was an actual toddler. Okay Pidge has earned some points.

“Tanks. What happn’ed?”

“Found you on the couch. You almost fell off so I figured it’d be easier to prevent you from getting hurt if you were in here with me. Sorry was that the wrong move?” Pidge asks, moving herself to a sitting position in the bed. As she shifts, the indent in the bed does too and Keith has to balance himself precariously to prevent himself from slamming back into her. He doesn't even weigh enough to indent the mattress. Damnit! But the unsureness of Pidge’s voice and her question ground Keith. She isn’t treating or seeing him like a little kid. She’s still asking his opinion. Since this whole thing’s begun, Keith’s been terrified deep down his team will stop respecting him and his thoughts and start treating and seeing him like a real child. Something deep in his heart calms at Pidge’s question. At least she doesn’t see him differently.

“No, is alright,” He admits, letting out a little yawn and scratching the back of his head.

“Can I see?” Pidge asks.

“See wha?”

“Your fangs. You yawned and I think you have rear bottom fangs too. Can I see?” Keith isn’t really sure what the purpose of Pidge playing dentist is, but he’s just glad she’s asking him and not treating him like a damn toddler at least. Eh, what’s the harm?

“Sure I guess,” Keith says and then opens his mouth wide. He’s surprised when Pidge actually grabs his jaw and tilts his mouth back to get a better look, having grabbed a penlight from somewhere out of thin air and pointing it down his throat.

“Interesting. You have bottom fangs that point inwards a little. I wonder how your tongue doesn’t get cut up. If you don’t chew things to file them down, would they grow backwards into your skull like babiursa?” Keith scrambles backwards down the length of the bed away from Pidge.

“Wha?!” He screeches. He doesn’t want his teeth growing into his skull!

“Well Babiursa are a species of boar that has teeth that can grow through their skull if they’re not worn down and -” But Pidge’s inforamble trails off away from Keith’s ears which twitch in irritation. Oh so this is a theory. Why did Pidge have to scare the crap out of him like that! After a couple of seconds and Pidge continuing to go on about… babiwhatever, Keith realizes she’s not slowing down at all. He scoots to the edge of the bed, dangling his feet over the floor and drops himself to it with a slap of his feet against the tile.

“Oh wait, where are you going?” Pidge finally realizes he’s leaving.

“Ugh wha’eva I fuckin please?” Pidge pauses for a second and Keith wonders if she’s torn between letting it slide and correcting him for cursing. He might be small, but he’s not an actual toddler. He doesn’t need supervision.

After a moment’s hesitation and an aborted breath, Pidge responds with, “fair enough.” with a shrug and does nothing as Keith pads back to his own room. He leaves his pajama pants behind. He can find other clothes in his room that’ll fit, right?

He enters his room, taking in how much taller everything is. He has to strain to reach the doorhandle, a sensation he’s forgotten he ever had to deal with as a kid. It’s been so long. All the furniture in his room towers over him. He glares at his crib bed with distaste. Yeah he’s not sleeping in there tonight, he’d rather sleep on the floor. He glares at the changing table with even more distaste- scratch that- disgust. Stupid universe. Why the heck does this have to happen to him? He hopes he doesn’t wake up needing it again every again. Maybe from here on out he’ll just get older every time he shifts. He’s 4 instead of a baby baby right? That’s at least some small improvement. He walks (he does NOT toddle) over to his dresser, opening the bottom most drawer.

His pajamas, like usual. But they’re all his pajamas for his adult self. None of them will fit any better than the giant shirt he has on. He opens the second drawer, having to step on tiptoes to see into it. He grabs a pair of underwear, slipping it on and knotting one side to tighten the waistband and hold them up. Jumping up and down a little to test its hold, Keith determines it to be satisfactory, if a little undignified. He looks up at the third drawer from the bottom, where he knows he keeps his shorts. The drawer is too tall for him to reach. He pulls the bottom two drawers out more, the bottom a bit further out than the second and uses them like stairs, stepping on the edge of each drawer to scale the dresser.

Keith pulls on the third drawer from the bottom with great difficulty. It’s stiff in its track and pulling on only one handle on one side of the drawer doesn’t slide it open easily. Fuck. Why does this have to be so hard! After some finagling, he finally forces the stiff drawer open, almost falling backwards from his perch with the effort, but the drawer is open. Bingo! He shuffles forward on the edge of the second drawer, hands on the lip of the third, pulling himself up so he can see inside when something drops in the doorway.

“SHIT! Keith!” Someone shouts, rushing forward. And he’s being yanked off the drawer by hands under his armpits. No! He was so close!

“Hey!” He cries in indignation. He kicks his legs furiously and the hands under his armpits relent and place him back down on the floor.

“What’re you doing Keith?” Hunk asks, slight panic receding from his voice. Coran behind him walks in and sets down a box.

“Gettin’ pants!” Keith turns to Hunk and glares at him defiantly. He can dress himself on his own, thank you very much! Coran  opens the box he’s set down.

“Well maybe this will be easier number 4,” Coran offers, pulling out a set of folded clothes from the box after rummaging for a moment. The folded clothes are smaller. They’re him sized!

“When did you-”

“When we went to the space mall to pick up infant supplies, Allura and I grabbed a range of clothing and supplies. Ken told us you’d likely be switching back and forth and we didn’t know if that meant you’d wake up at different ages as well. Best be prepared.” He passes the folded pile to Keith. Coran you beautiful beautiful genius! 

“Thank you,” Keith says with a huff, turning and marching to his bathroom to change. He shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. He trusts Hunk and Coran not to follow him and it’s not worth the effort of stretching up to try and reach the lock, which he’s probably too short for anyways. His tail flicks behind him and Keith is distracted for a moment. He sets the clothes down on the floor next to the toilet and turns around. His tail is fluffy, not like any Galra he’s ever seen. Their tails are slim, maybe with a tuft on the very end like a lion, but not fully furred like his. He wonders why the difference, or perhaps some Galra have tails like this but just no one he’s ever met.

Keith runs the fur through his fingers, feeling the plush softness. After a few moments, he shakes his head, freeing him from his enamorment. This is silly. He moves onto unfolding the clothes, including an appropriately sized pair of underwear, a pair of black shorts with a tail hole, a purple long sleeve shirt, and socks. The tail hole is a little tricky to navigate. After a few tries, Keith finds that what works best is to shimmy the shorts on to just under his tail and then expand his waist band enough to tuck his tail inside and through the hole.

 The waistband snaps back to Keith’s waist, his tail sizes fully peeking out. Keith hopes the hole around the tail is snug enough to not show any of the surrounding skin. He doesn’t want to flash anybody. Would that be flashing anybody? He isn’t quite sure. His cheeks heat a little in embarrassment. Luckily, the long sleeve shirt is a little too long and drapes over the top of the base of his tail slightly, so at least that gives him a little extra coverage just in case. He finds himself eternally grateful Coran and Allura picked pretty neutral items instead of anything super kiddy with cartoons on the shirt or anything. Keith flexes his clawed feet curiously and opts against putting the socks on. He doesn’t want to confine his claws like that. And besides, no one on the castle ship will care if he’s barefoot, right?

Keith finds himself stroking his tail again, running it through with his slightly clawed fingertips. A claw snags on a tangle and he goes to his sink, to find his hairbrush. He sits himself on the floor. Keith ends up dragging his short trash can to the sink so he can reach the counter. Ah there it is- sitting on top near the bottom of the mirror. He freezes when he comes face to face with his reflection.

His cheeks are so… chubby, and as he moves his face and his jaw, they remain so. It’s like watching a foreign being follow his every move except he knows it's himself. His skin is furred with a short dense purple coat, with purple stripes on his cheeks. He touches them, only to end up staring at his grubby little hands. Small purplish black claws stick out of the tips of his fingers.

Keith spends the next few minutes exploring his new Galra traits: looking inside his mouth with the mirror at his fangs Pidge had been examining and watching the sides of his head closely as he moves his ears like little satellites forward and outwards, channeling the sound of the very air itself around him. His attention guides back up to his curly black hair. His bangs are braided back from his face. Had Pidge done that? Keith takes it down, brushing his hairbrush through the locks to bounce them back into place. He brushes the hair at the back of the nape of his neck too. Once he’s done with his hair, he looks back at his tail.

Keith ends up back on the floor stroking his tail again and again with the brush until it's super puffy and soft in his hands. A knock sounds at the door and Keith’s tail shoots up in surprise and he jolts to his feet.

“Keith? You still in there? Need a little help?” Hunk? They’d stuck around waiting for him? Keith had assumed they’d leave.

“Ugh, no!” He replies, walking to the door and coming back out into his bedroom. Coran and Hunk look at him perplexed, maybe wondering why he was in there so long. Their gazes follow his arm down to the hairbrush still clutched in his hand, which he belatedly hides behind his body, blushing beneath his fur. 

“Right…. So you wanna join us for some breakfast?” Hunk asks.

Keith follows Hunk and Coran across the castleship, but his eyes can’t stay focused forward. He’s too busy noticing little things. A tiny bug against a wall, glittering even out of the light, sparkling with a quality he’s never seen before. Is it his new eyes? Is this like when he saw that new color in the juice? He wishes he had a name for it. It’d been like a cross between purple and orange, but that doesn’t make sense. Purple mixed with orange should make brown. But this new color was both and neither at the same time, like blue and yellow to green. It shouldn’t be possible! And it had been shimmery and glittery like a river of starlight, the color shifting and moving within itself. Keith wonders if there’s other new colors, or just that one. And why hasn’t he seen it since?!

Keith settles at a table on the other side of the kitchen near Shiro, Allura, Pidge, and Lance while Coran and Hunk finish getting breakfast together. Keith hopes Hunk did most of the cooking. His team conveniently talks about anything but his newest size development, which Keith is eternally thankful for. There are more important things at hand: the fight against the empire, diplomatic missions, trading information and contacts with other members of the coalition. Keith’s thankful to be forgotten in the conversation. As the conversation moves along and Hunk and Coran move to bring dishes over to the table, something catches the corner of Keith’s vision.

IT’S THE COLOR! Keith wiggles down from his chair where he’d been sitting on his knees to be tall enough to reach the table and hits the ground with a soft tap on the pads of his bare feet. His tail flicks back and forth while his eyes dart looking for the color.

There it is again!

“Keith? What are you…” Shiro asks, but Keith’s already on the move. He crouches onto all fours and pounces, running with grace on all four like a little cat towards the color. He pounces on top of it, trapping it between his claws.

“KEITH!” Allura cries, and he’s being pulled off of his quarry. NO! He wiggles in Allura’s grip, struggling not to drop the color trapped between his claws.

“Drop it!” Allura commands, but Keith frowns. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t see the color! It was pretty and it was his! Keith doesn’t let Allura pry his fingers apart.

“Give it here!” Desperation leaks into her voice. Keith does the only thing his mind can think to do in the split moment. He pops the color into his mouth.

“KEITH!” She yells again. She shifts from holding him under his armpits to- oh. She scruffs him on the back of his neck and he goes completely limp and blind. He can still feel and hear, but he can’t manage to move his muscles. Allura manually opens her jaw and the thing in his mouth hops out of its own accord, squeaking furiously. Oh. OH. It had been one of Allura’s Altean mice! Keith’s not sure if he can blush while scruffed like this, but he feels the burning heat against his cheeks nonetheless. He couldn’t help himself.

“Oh Keith,” Shiro scolds and Keith can feel himself being shifted from Allura’s arms to another's. Based on the feel of the metal arm beneath him, he can only assume it’s Shiro.

“I’m going to go clean him off,” Shiro informs the others, leaving the castleship kitchen with Keith in his arms, limp as a noodle, soiled and wet. He can hear water running. Oh Shiro’s giving him a bath. This is mortifying! Just let him wake up from his scruff and clean himself up! He’s big enough! But Keith can’t deny the fingers through his coat scrubbing him clean feel so good. He’s a little thankful he can blame his lack of response to Shiro’s ministrations on the scruffing, especially as he scrubs down south, freeing his fur of the feces that’d escaped him once Allura had scruffed him. That’s it- Keith’s not letting any of them anywhere near the back of his neck ever again. This wasn’t his fault this time! Scruffing is evil incarnate.

Humiliation washes over him, persistent and thick like a plague. Keith’s muscles and vision only start to return to him when Shiro’s finishing drying him off with a fluffy light blue towel.

“Ah you back with me Keith?” Shiro asks. Keith nods, squinting furiously at him through blurry returning vision.

“Why’d you do that? You could have hurt Allura’s mouse. And you certainly scared it.”

“I don’ know. I diddn’t realize it wa a mouse. It’s- it’s the most bootiful color I ever seen,” Keith admits sheepishly. Shiro pauses in his towel fluffing off Keith.

“You mean…. Brown?”

“No, you don’ understamd. It’s a color I never seen before! It’s like a orangey purpley shimmerny thing. I don’ know what it’s called but it’s the most bootiful thing I’ve ever seen! I think it might be my new eyes? Sorry I won’ do it again now that I know.”

“Uh.huh…” Shiro sounds skeptical, but accepts his response. But then he moves to help Keith dress. Keith snaps his ankle away from Shiro’s grip.

“What you doing??”

“Oh- I- do you need help?” Shiro asks haltingly. He’d been trying to raise Keith’s ankle to slip it into a new pair of underwear.

“ Do I need help - no Shiwo! I can dress myself!” Keith mocks and snaps, hating the high pitch of his voice, his childlike speech. He moves to dress on his own with the new set of clothes Shiro’s brought him: more or less the same except the shirt is a light blue with a white stripe down the middle and back.

“Your voice sounds a little scratchy. Are you thirsty again?” Shiro asks. Keith is about to deny it when he realizes that Shiro’s right- his throat is a little scratchy.

“But… But I’m not a baby?” Keith asks, astonished. Was he going to need to nurse even as a FOUR YEAR OLD??? That can’t be right.

“Ken explained to us that Galra kittens need kithren for a really long time Keith. You’re going to need the stuff even when you’re an adult and back to normal for a while. You’re going to need kithren until your Galra half catches up in maturity to your human side. Ken said when you’re an adult you probably won’t be as picky though, so you can just drink it from a glass and it won’t matter who it came from. It’s just the really young kittens that are that picky.”

Keith blushes furiously, remembering how he’d drunk some from the pitcher even as his adult self last night. Shiro was right.

“I- I could use some…” Keith admits bashfully. Shiro scoops him up, balancing him on a hip. Keith squeaks in surprise.

“Sorry, Keith. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is this alright?” Shiro says, pausing as he stands before walking. Keith nods wordlessly, staring at how high up he is. It almost feels like he’s back to his normal height if he imagines it hard enough and that’s comforting. It’s disorienting looking up at everything all the time. Shiro takes them back into the kitchen.

“Sorry Allura, I didn’ realize wha I was doing,” Keith apologizes.

“That’s quite alright Keith, I believe you. You have… a lot going on right now,” Allura admits. They settle back down and dig into their breakfast, some alien version of pancakes. Shiro comes back to the table from the fridge with the pitcher of kithren he’d diluted last night. No one seems to be the wiser. That’s a relief. It was embarrassing to have to drink this stuff at all, let alone as an adult, necessary or not. Keith drinks the glass handed to him with both hands on the cup to prevent it from spilling. Was it a little childish? Yes, but it was better than spilling it all over himself and needing to change for the third time today. He drinks a glass and a half before putting his glass down and focusing on his pancakes.

“Don’t you want more?” Pidge asks from above her own plate, with an eyebrows raised skeptically.

“No,” Keith says around a mouth full of pancake. It’s then that Ken joins them. The group greets her before pidge says:

“Ken, didn’t you say at this age that Keith should be drinking 2-3 cups of kithren with each meal?” Jesus that sounded like so much! Was he really drinking that much when he’d been tinier?

“Well yes Pidge. When he is younger, he needs to nurse every 1-3 hours, but at his current age, by the looks of it, he can get by with 2-3 cups 3 times a day instead. Are you feeling alright Keith?”

“M’ Fine,” Keith grumbles, stuffing syrupy pancakes into his mouth again.

“How much have you had?”

“Two glasses.”

“One and a half,” Pidge corrects.

“And you are not thirsty?” Ken narrows her eyes, taking her own seat at the table in front of a plate of her own. Keith shakes his head no. It’s not exactly the truth. His throat does feel weird, but it’s not the same itchiness before. He’s fine. It’s fine. Leave him alone. He wishes they’d go back to not paying attention to him. Back to Voltron business.

“I suppose if you do not feel a scratchy throat, it could be that your halfbreed status has altered your needs from a normal Galran kitten your age. But if you are thirsty Keith, you will tell us? There is plenty enough kithren. If you are rationing, it is not necessary. With myself, Shiro, and now Hunk, there’s-”

“M fine!” Keith whines. Ken drops the matter. They continue eating in peace. Keith ignores the weird non-scratchy feeling in his throat.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: The Dilution of Kithren and its Affects

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

A few days passed. Keith mostly kept to himself, and when one of his teammates tried to insist they follow him, he did everything possible to ditch his shadow. He was not a toddler and he did not need supervision, no matter what anyone said. His throat wasn’t itchy any more, but felt a little swollen and congested, like the beginnings of a minor cold. Keith told himself it was nothing. Maybe diluting the kithren had done something to quench his throat more thoroughly/more effectively and he’d also happened to catch a cold? Regardless, Keith was thankful for the lack of itch in the back of his throat. He’d continued to dilute the pitcher each night as it was filled. He could go longer without kithren now and drink less of it too. Keith was planning to wean himself off of the stuff entirely. It would be nice to not be dependent on the stuff. And then they could get rid of Ken and Shiro and Hunk could stop hormone therapy and go back to themselves too. Then maybe everything could go back to normal entirely. A small part of himself in the back of his brain knew it probably wasn’t realistic, but he still couldn’t give up that hope.

The more Keith thought about it, the more guilty he became. They’d uprooted themselves in a way, changing their bodies to help him out and that simply wasn’t fair of him! He didn’t want anyone doing that for him. And Ken clearly meant well, but she kept finding him and trying to get him to nurse, even though he was 4 now. Nope. Nopenopenope. Not happening. He was determined to prove he didn’t need her and she could shuttle off to whatever preschool she came from and take care of actual babies. It seemed to be working

Each day, Keith woke up the same age, much to his disappointment. He occupied himself by exploring around the castleship in search of that new color. He avoided Allura’s mouse. He still felt bad about popping them into his mouth and he’d promised not to do it again. He’d found a tapestry in one hall with traces of the color in it and stared at it for a really long time until Lance had come across him and pulled him away, breaking the trance. Keith couldn’t help himself- it was so pretty!

Then, he’d broken into the training simulator with his small galran blade in its knife form and battled the drones on level one. He couldn’t pass it (which wasn’t that pathetic???), but he was content to try again and again. The training brought on a sense of normalcy he was jumping for, having been stuck as a four year old for days now. Seriously- when was he going to wake up himself again? At least his mental state had stayed himself this time. He did not want to slip into the mindset of a toddler. Especially not in front of his team. How were they to ever see him the same again after they saw him acting like such a baby? Keith desperately hopes he never shifts younger than this again. He thinks he might die if Lance diapers him one more time. Not that he wants any of them doing that, but Lance was the worst. He was so caring and loving, so sweet and attentive, that it made Keith forget he wasn’t actually a baby and he almost let himself be one. Nope. Not happening again.

His thoughts are interrupted by Allura.

“Castle, end training sequence.” The training drone in front of him halts mid-movement and Keith huffs to the floor with an exasperated and tired plop.

“I- wuzn’-done,” he pants, squinting angrily up at Allura.

“Keith, this cannot be good for your health. Look at yourself, you’re exhausted! You cannot even pass level one. It cannot be a good idea for you to train in such a state,” she chides, a frown deeply etched into her features. Keith’s face grows red beneath his furred cheeks.

“You can’t tell me wuh to do!” He hates how childish that phrasing makes him sound, especially with his squeaky brokenish speech.

“Oh can’t I now?” and the next thing Keith knows, he’s picked up underneath the armpits and ushered out of the training room, the door locked behind them. Keith’s body is too exhausted to put up much of a fight. This isn’t fair!

“This not fair Lura! I can fight!” 

“The only thing you should be fighting are your poor self care skills, Keith. Go take a nap or something. Training isn’t appropriate for this form.” And with that, she sweeps off to another part of the castle, probably to do something actually productive with her time. Keith scowls. There’s practically nothing he can actually do as a four year old. He wants to help . Wants things to be some semblance of normal. This is infuriating! He swallows awkwardly around his slightly swollen throat. At least he isn’t itchy for kithren. It’s a relief, even if it’s a little uncomfortable. He picks himself up and dusts himself off, the motion fatiguing to his little arms. Okay maybe he had been going a little too hard on the training deck. He probably shouldn’t be this tired though, right?

Keith trudges to the lion hanger. With each footfall, his throat feels more congested. He tries breathing solely through his nose, but that stings for some reason. Eventually, he settles on a combination of breathing through his nose, then his throat in an attempt to bring reprieve to each with breaks. It barely works. He finally trudges to the red lion. He’s missed her so much. At least he can still visit her. Even small, she must recognize him because she bends down and opens her maw, allowing him to crawl inside. He settles in the cockpit, allowing his mind to feel the connection to her while he curls up on the floor. Red seems… concerned. This just further annoys Keith. Everyone should just stop worrying about him: he’s fine. Keith’s connection to his lion has never been the most tangible; they communicate in feelings rather than words, but he tries to think a message to her anyway.

I’m just tired. I’m fine Red. It’s okay. And he might normally say such a message out loud to her, but his throat has swollen quite tight and it’s getting hard to breath and swallow. Distantly, Keith knows this probably isn’t the start of a cold he thought it was, but now it’s hard to stand and do anything about it. He tries, only to be hit with a wave of dizziness that lands him back down on his little butt. Oh well, he’ll just nap it off. He finds his way underneath the main control board in the cockpit, turning in a circle before collapsing with a huff onto the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut against the insistent wave of concern Red is pushing at him.

I’m FINE! Keith assures her. He’ll just sleep it off. It’s okay. But after a few moments, he can’t breathe any more and he starts to panic. Okay this isn’t going away on its own. Keith tries to get up so he can find Coran, or anyone for assistance, but his muscles won’t move. It’s like dumbbells sit on every inch of muscle in his body. His breathing shallows and staccatos as he can’t push air through his throat. Tears well in his eyes. Shit. This is bad.

~~

Lance McClain

~~

Lance works through the training simulator with vigor only to rival Keith’s. But unlike Keith, Lance isn’t stupid enough to try while stuck as a fucking four year old . He’d come in on the tail end of Allura banishing him from the training deck. And of all the stupid- he’s not his normal self. He could really get hurt. The simulator would stop before things got too bad, but it wasn’t calibrated to someone as fragile as a small child.

They’ve all been trying to balance things but it feels like they’re all failing miserably. With Keith at the age he’s at, he’s physically able to feed himself and use the bathroom by himself, so he’s been insisting he doesn’t need a babysitter. Lance can’t help but think of him putting the mouse in his mouth or having to drag him away from a tapestry, stuck in some sort of weird trance, and disagree with the sentiment. He most certainly did need someone at least checking in on him. But toddler Keith was some kind of ninja. If he didn’t want to be found, no one could find him. Lance shudders to think of the nightmare that must have been for his parents the first time around. 

For not the first time, he wonders what Keith’s family life was like back home. Krolia had left when he was young before he could remember her, but he’d still had his dad. Keith almost never talks about him. Lance talks about his family as often as he can get the chance, if anyone’s willing to actually listen. Most of the time, it’s Hunk and they reminisce about stories from both of their families, since they knew each others’. But Keith’s never been very open about his dad. Lance will have to ask sometime. Hopefully it's not too personal a question.

As Lance is taking a break and drinking water on a bench on the training deck, he hears Red roar loudly. That’s weird. None of the castleships alarms are alerting of an attack, and the systems don’t appear to be down either. And that roar seemed to be a distressed one. Lance doesn’t think he reads Red as well as Keith does, but he can still understand her tone a little. Swiftly, Lance makes his way to the lion hanger.

Red immediately leans down and opens her maw, urging Lance inside. 

Ooookay? What is it, girl? I’m right- but Lance stops cold when he enters the cockpit and sees the sight.

He immediately runs forward, slamming on a communication lion in Red that connects to the whole of the castleship.

“KEN, CORAN, MED BAY NOW.” Lance knows more than them will come but that’s who he needs there most. Keith’s lying curled underneath the console, breaths wheezing and shallow. He sounds like he’s suffocating through a thin straw. Tears brim in his eyes with obvious pain and probably fear. His hair is plastered against his furred forehead with sweat. He’s trembling horribly. Lance scoops him up and sprints as fast as he can to the castleship medbay.

“What is it number 3??? Coran yells as he skids around the corner at the same time as Lance.
“I don’t know. I don’t think Keith’s breathing and he’s soaked through with sweat. He’s burning up!”

“Quickly, put him in a pod and we can determine what illness-”

“Do NOT!” Ken commands, having entered the room just as urgently.

“I know exactly what this is. It’s a nutritional deficiency. Keith has not been drinking enough kithren. These are the exact symptoms.” Ken practically rips Keith from Lance’s arms and brings him to her breast. His wheezing doesn’t subside and he cannot latch on, even if he wanted to. The whites of his eyes are going pink. If he wasn’t already purple, Lance is sure his lips would be turning blue.

“Bring the kithren from the fridge, I-” but before Ken can finish commanding Lance, Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, and Allura have entered in a rush. Ken immediately spots the bottle in Shiro’s hand- it looks like the message over the coms interrupted him mid pumping session if the disheveled shirt is anything to go by.

“Nevermind this is perfect.” Keith’s breaths are stuttering out, growing smaller and weaker. His body is trembling even more violently. Lance has never been more afraid in his life.

“Coran, I need a syringe,” Coran seems to have no clue what Ken needs, but he obliges. She seems to know the situation best. Quickly, Ken fills a syringe with kithren and lifts Keith’s t shirt, plunging the thin needle into the fatty skin above his stomach. She depresses the syringe, injecting him with kithren. After a few heartbeats, she lifts his lip and presses a claw to his gums, presumably checking the coloration. Something must be promising, because some of the tension bleeds from her shoulders. Keith mewls then, his wheezing turning into actual noise like a stunted dry cough. That has to be a good sign, right? Lance releases his own breath, which he realizes he’s been holding as well in fearful anticipation.

“There there,” Ken soothes, but her face is one of fury. Keith mewls harder. She brings him up to her chest again but Keith cries harder, squirming in her grip, kicking his arms and legs with squeezed shut eyes.

“Yellow Paladin,” she commands. Hunk is confused for a split second before it dawns on him what she’s asking and he unclasps his own shirt, modesty be damned in the urgency of this moment. Ken places Keith against Hunk and he doesn’t latch. His crying is like an ugly screeching beast, sounding neither galran nor human. Lance has never heard a four year old of any species make such a noise. Is this what his normal human crying had reminded Ken of? That she had said was so disturbing? Lance can’t disagree. Ken sets a hand on the back of Keith’s neck at his scruff and he flinches and latches on before Ken can actually scruff him. Keith suckles slowly and haltingly, his breathing still shallow and his body still clearly feverish and sweaty. But with time, his trembling slows to a stop and he stops suckling, falling away from Hunk’s chest with an exhausted huff, closing his eyes and passing out. Ken lifts his lip to press her claw to his gums again, reading some metric of health once more. She sighs a breath of relief.

“Um. Is anyone going to explain what the HELL that was???” Lance demands.

“Pidge- Please retrieve the kithren from the kitchens. I need to check something,” Ken requests. Pidge obliges, dipping out to do just that. Ken turns to Lance, “These are signs of a very critical kithren deficiency. I have been telling him over the last few days he needs to be drinking more but he has not been listening. Your red paladin is extremely stubborn.”

“That’s not exactly new news,” Hunk offers unhelpfully, looking down at a feverishly sleepy Keith in his arms. Ken scowls and Hunk shrinks beneath her intense scrutiny. Okay not in the mood for jokes, clearly. Lance can’t blame her. That was terrifying. Ken grabs Keith back from Hunk’s grasp protectively, sitting herself down on the floor with crossed legs and leaning Keith against her chest and shoulder. He doesn’t even stir slightly. Pidge returns after a few moments and Ken slides Keith into Lance’s arms. Lance settles him against his hip, leaning him into his side and holding him steady by his rear and the back of his head. Keith’s face flops against Lance’s shoulder with a sleepy sigh. His expression even in sleep is a little pained, as if he’s so exhausted even sleep can’t help him find reprieve. Ken sticks a finger into the kithren pitcher and brings it to her lips, then makes a very sour expression. She swirls the pitcher slightly, moving the liquid around and scrutinizing it. Her eyes widen with realization.

“It’s poisoned,” She concludes, and the group sputters in shock.

“Who would try to poison Keith???” Pidge cries.

“I believe himself.” Ken’s met with confusion from the whole group. Lance looks down at little mullet. Why the fuck would he-

“I believe Keith has been diluting the kithren. This pitcher is contaminated with a fair amount of water. It isn’t meant to be diluted. Not only has he been drinking less, but he has also been drinking contaminated source. Without enough kithren, Keith’s body has become quite ill. He will recover, but this is quite serious. He could have suffocated and passed. I’m afraid he seriously disregards his safety and needs with the new developments of his body. I apologize paladins- I should not have given him so much freedom. He clearly is not responsible enough.”

“It’s not your fault, Ken. If anything, it’s ours. We know him better. I should have anticipated he’d pull something like this,” Shiro says, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck. He’s right, Lance thinks. Mullet is one stubborn little motherfucker and they shouldn’t have let him go off on his own so much.

“How…. How long till he’s better?” Lance asks. He doesn’t say back to normal because none of this is really normal, even if Ken insists it is for Keith as a hybrid. Or at least it’s a normal Keith desperately doesn’t want, clearly even at the risk of his own life.

“I cannot say. He will likely be feverish and out of it for the next few days. I can only hope he does not shift to become younger within this time because it could cause another flareup and be dangerous for his health. We’ll want to be closely supervising him.” The group agrees and after further discussion, splits off. Shiro takes Keith and Lance heads back to the castleship’s pilot room/throne room. 

His mind brings him back to all the times when he was a kid that he was sick, his mamá holding him close and taking care of him, singing to him and feeding him soup. If it were Lance who was sick, that’s who he’d want. Lance wonders where Krolia is, on some far off blade mission. Does she even know Keith’s going through this hybrid metamorphosis? Did she know he’d be going through it one day? Why hadn’t she prepared him for it?

Lance opens up a communication tab on the castleship’s main computer. Perhaps he can send her a message.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Keith Has Fun With His Hunting Instincts

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

Keith feels like he’s been asleep for AGES. But he feels like utter dogshit. He tries keeping his eyes closed and falling back asleep but he’s too alert for that now. Reluctantly, he peels open his eyelids. His bed shifts underneath him. Wait, his bed shifts underneath him? He slowly moves his head to look upwards and is met with the sight of the bottom of Shiro’s chin. Oh, he’s using Shiro’s lap like a pillow. But is he small or big? He kinda wants to lift his hands to his face to check if he’s de aged or not, but the prospect of moving anything is kinda a lot right now. So instead, he lets out a little groan of complaint. His head hurts, his lungs feel like they’re on fire, and every square centimeter of muscle is a lead weight. Ambient chatter he hadn’t been focusing on or realized was happening dies down.

“Keith? Are you back with us?” Shiro’s voice sounds so hopeful. Jesus, he’s just been asleep.

“Jus been sleepin’,” his voice comes out slurred and small. Okay so he’s still young. Still four years old maybe? It’s hard to tell.

“Yeah, for five days. Ken told us you’d feel better in a couple of days but it’s been almost a week,” Pidge scoffs. Keith feels alarm bells distantly sound in the back of his brain at the knowledge but can’t find the energy to care about it or react. Coran frowns at his nonresponse, his mustache drooping on his face. 

“Keith?” Shiro asks, hopefulness still coating his voice.

“Mm,” He huffs in response.

“How do you feel? Do you want us to grab Ken?”

“Hhmph,” He huffs noisier. Not much in the way of response. His head hurts too much to vocalize a response and his lungs still burn. His whole body feels kinda warm, now that he thinks about it.

“Hey, earth to stuffed animal, how you feelin?” Pidge asks, leaning forward and poking Keith in the forehead. He goes crosseyed looking at her finger and frowns deeply, turning his head downwards and burying his face in the tops of Shiro’s knees. He muffles a sentence into his pants.

“What was that number 4?” Keith mumbles into Shiro’s knees again. Shiro gently lifts Keith, positioning him on his lap to face Pidge and Coran. Keith finds the energy to look up at Shiro, still frowning and squinting in annoyance. Can’t he leave him the fuck alone? He hadn’t exactly been comfortable per se, but non movement was better than movement.

“My chest hurs,” Keith manages, his voice scratchy and raw.

“Oh I can help, bud.” Keith’s cheeks redden with embarrassment at the kiddie nickname. He’s not actually 4 and Shiro knows it. With that, both Pidge and Coran quickly dismiss themselves. Shiro unclasps his shirt at the shoulder, one of the flowier silkier ones Ken’s leant him. He flips Keith around to face him, straddling his lap. Keith frowns and plops his face against Shiro’s chest, but with his face turned away from the exposed breast. He huffs a breath, feeling the fire in the bottom of his lungs with a painful wheeze. Shiro’s skin is cool against his cheek and he sighs. That’s nice.

“Keith,” Shiro chuckles in amusement. Hey! None of this is funny! He feels like shit and they’re all treating him like a little kid! And 4 is way too old to fucking breast feed . Nope, not happening, “You have to. This is the whole reason you feel sick in the first place.

“Mm jus a cold.” Shiro pulls him away from his chest, making Keith meet his eyes.

“No. It’s not. Listen Keith, you can’t keep going on like this. You’ll hurt yourself. You could die. Is it really all that bad? I was embarrassed at first too but it’s not that bad. This is something your body needs like breathing or sleeping. And it’s not going to go away for a long time. The sooner you accept it, the easier your life will be.”

“My life’s never easy,” Keith whines. He doesn’t like how childish his tone is, but he can’t fight it right now. He feels too crummy. Shiro’s gaze softens a bit.

“I know kiddo, but it could be easier if you stopped trying to headbutt it all the time.”

“Mmmm’ll headbutt you,” Keith jokes, perhaps a little delirious with fever, and weakly lets his head thump against Shiro’s chest again, forehead to the center of his collar bones (or maybe a little lower, but Keith doesn’t like admitting just how small he is that he can fit in Shiro’s lap and still be shorter than that). Shiro chuckles again and then after a moment of silence, gently places a hand on the side of Keith’s small head, softly ruffling his fingers through Keith’s curly-wavy hair. Heartbreakingly softly, he applies pressure, turning Keith’s face towards his breast again. Keith freezes. The pressure on his head stops, but the hand doesn’t leave. Shiro isn’t going to force him to if he really wont do it. The thought comforts Keith and he sighs. He knows Shiro’s right. 

This wasn’t a damn cold, it was a fucked up kiddie illness, and the only neglect Keith was receiving was because of himself denying his needs. This wasn’t like his childhood the first time around, being shoved from foster home to foster home after his dad died, sometimes having enough clothes or food or whatever and sometimes not. This wasn’t a foster home holding out on him; he was holding out on himself. And some small less stubborn part of himself recognized that that was stupid to keep on doing. But the majority of himself just didn’t know how to let go.

Being held to Shiro’s chest and having his head gently guided into place, Keith found this was a nudge he could accept, however difficult. After a moment’s hesitation and silence, Keith relaxes. Shiro notices this and puts more light pressure on the side of his head, guiding him back to his nipple. Keith latches on voluntarily, rolling the bud of his breast in his mouth until kithren comes out and he begins to suckle. They do this together in utter silence, switching sides when he’s done on one side of Shiro’s chest. Through the ordeal, Shiro places a hand on Keith’s sore back, and at one point starts to absentmindedly (or perhaps very intentionally, Keith’s unsure) rub it in a small supportive circle and hum softly.

Keith wants to protest. He isn’t actually a child and he doesn’t need this kind of support. He isn’t upset or scared or weak. But the rub on his back is soothing and the melody is sweet and pretty and he does feel horrible. Keith decides to allow himself the comfort for once. This wasn’t. This wasn’t horrible . When Keith’s finished, he doesn’t pull away from Shiro’s embrace, just leans back barely far enough for Shiro to reclasp his shirt and then plops his head forward again, resting his feverish cheek on Shiro’s chest with a huff. Shiro resumes rubbing his back gently. The burning in Keith’s lungs hasn’t disappeared entirely, but the kithren’s soothed it somehow. His headache still roars, but more in the form of a dull ache rather than a sharper pain. Shiro resumes humming his song and Keith allows himself to close his eyes. He’s far too awake and wired to fall asleep, so he just sits here, leaning against his brother figure, enjoying his singing.

After some time, Coran returns to the room, peeking his head inside. He spots Keith and, assuming he’s asleep again, speaks over him to Shiro.

“Ah, is number four feeling much better?”

“I think so. He said his head and chest still hurt and he’s still got a fever, but it’s lower than it was a few days ago. He’s a lot more lucid than he was when he was crying and having nightmares.” Did he do that? Keith doesn’t remember virtually anything about the last five days. He feels a bit guilty to have worried his team like that. He can hear it in Coran’s voice- it must have been really seriously scary to see him so small and sick. How close had he really been to death’s door? It doesn’t feel real.

“That is good at least,” Coran acknowledges, “I know he needs his rest, but Lance was finally able to get in touch with Krolia a few days ago and she made the journey here as soon as she could finish the mission she was on. Perhaps number four would like to see her?” Keith’s ears perk up at that. Krolia? His mom? He’d gotten to meet her and discover who she was, but beyond that between Voltron and the blade missions (both his and hers), he’s barely gotten to spend any time with her or get to know her. Keith gingerly swivels his sensitive head towards Coran and looks up blearily at him.

“Oh you’re awake! Did you hear what I said?”

“Mm,” Keith mumbles in affirmation.

“Well?”

“Mm,” Keith mumbles in affirmation again, managing the tiniest nod of his head. Shiro stands, placing an arm beneath his butt and holding his back with the other to support his weight in his arms, shifting him like a doll until he’s comfortable to hold. Keith realizes he’s in ... pants… again much to his dismay, but if he’s really been that out of it the last five days, he can understand the reasoning. It doesn’t make it any less mortifying. At least he is dry at the moment. Shiro carries Keith across the castleship, following Coran.

They enter the throne room/pilot section of the ship and chatter fills Keith’s ears. He swivels them back and down, trying to drown out the noise as best he can. His hearing is ringing a little and it's too loud. Shiro presses a supportive hand against the back of his head, rubbing a hand through his hair. Thanks Shiro , he thinks, allowing himself to lean into the supportive touch.

“Oh Yurak, you are so small ,” a woman coos. It’s Krolia. Small and slight for a Galran, but still quite taller than the average human, she’s willowy and lithe. And- oh - she’s already gathered him in her arms, taking him from Shiro. Krolia presses her face into the top of his head, breathing down into his curls.

“Awe,” Pidge and Hunk coo together. Keith ignores them, shoving his face against the breastplate of Krolia’s blade suit. It’s a hard and rigid surface, and he finds himself foolishly and childishly wanting to snuggle against her without it, softer and warmer. But this is normal right? People like being around their mom when they’re sick? Lance has told stories about soup and singing and his mamá when he was sick, but Keith didn’t have that growing up. Krolia says something to him in a soft, lulling tone, but it’s in Galran and Keith is still learning the language. He catches the words ‘heart’ and ‘ill’, so it’s probably something about him being sick, although his heart isn’t what hurts, it's his lungs. She switches back to English, walking away from the group so they’re alone walking through the castleship. Keith distantly recognizes they’re heading to his room. Had they told Krolia where it was?

“I’m so sorry my Kit. I didn’t know about this process in hybrids. I have not had the pleasure of being around many before your birth. I should have been more prepared, and I did not want to leave you all those years ago. I’m so sorry I could not have prepared you for this, but I’m here now,” she says while she’s settled him on his bedcrib amongst a soft pile of pillows, removing the armor of her blade suit so that only the softer undersuit remains. Her hair billows in that funkily shaped little cloud around the nape of her neck, the pink underside visible amongst the dark purple. Her eyes are bright and shiny like pennies as she speaks to him.

Keith finds himself missing her embrace already, even though he’s only been set down a few minutes. Krolia being here has set some type of switch within him, instinctual and strong. He finds his chest lifting towards her in his body, more like the sensation of it than actual physical movement. Unintentionally, he lets out some sort of animal-like whimper/whine.

“Oh Kitten, I know. I’m here.” And with that, Krolia climbs into the large crib bed with him, arranging herself around the blankets and holding him close in a squeeze. Keith leans into her for a good long while and she plays with his hair singing to him. He isn’t lulled to sleep exactly- he’s still far too awake- but it eases some of his pain and discomfort as he allows himself to be comforted by his mom. That’s until she begins stripping him. What???

Keith’s still too out of it to really protest, but a small surge of… not quite fear… but perhaps incredulity churns through his gut. She’s pulled his shirt and his shorts off and is frowning down at the diaper, unsure of what it is no doubt. Ken had said Galran young worked differently than humans- more like kittens in the way that they- no that can’t be what Krolia’s doing, can it?

But Keith’s hunch is proven correct a few seconds later. She’s removed the diaper and set it aside and started licking his inner thighs, moving closer to his genitals. Keith whines again, this time in minor weary protest, but Krolia only pauses to lift her head to Keith’s, kissing his forehead before continuing again. She licks him in every square inch down there, until a light steady stream escapes him. He’s…. What…. Keith’s mind ‘blue screens’ as Pidge likes to call it. He can’t believe that’s worked. He hates his body- it’s betraying him! He’s not an actual Kitten, he’s more human than Galran there! But apparently not as much as he thought if his mother’s ministrations worked. Keith supposes she probably already knew that though, since she’d known him as a baby the first time around. Keith wonders how long she’d been around the first time before having to leave. He doesn’t remember any of it.

“All clean my kitten. Do you feel better?” Krolia asks, the smile on her face thick in her voice as she gently rubs his lower stomach, rolling the pudge of skin there with three fingers. Keith’s stomach gurgles lightly and his cheeks redden again. This was ridiculous- he wasn’t a baby. He wasn’t a baby. He wasn’t a baby. The thought repeats in his mind, but his muscles are too weary to do anything about it. He opens his mouth and another whimper/whine is all he can manage. Krolia shifts, letting Keith settle against the blankets and pillows again squishily. She works to remove the top half of her blade uniform, revealing a scar-littered furred purple chest. Keith tries to look away, but Krolia bends down to him in the crib-bed, curling against him and flopping her own head down in the nest. She brings him close, and Keith realizes what she wants.

Half his mind rebels against the thought like it has been this whole time, but that other part of him- that flipped switch that seems to have gone off in his mom’s presence pulls at his instincts. He remembers Shiro’s words, his semi acceptance of his needs, and he lets it happen again. Krolia pulls him to her breast, and Keith allows himself to latch on and suckle. Unlike with Hunk or Shiro, there’s no workup period before chilled kithren is flowing down his throat. Krolia sings to him, cradling his head and body in her arms as he nurses. Her song is in Galran again, and he catches those same words for ‘heart’ and ‘ill’. The way the words nestle into the melody, it seems like it’s not about his heart being sick, but perhaps about heartbreak/heartsickness in a more metaphorical sense.

The thought makes Keith feel sad and he distantly wonders how much of his childhood his mom spent wondering how he was doing and feeling heartbroken and missing him. He sniffles. Krolia halts her soft singing, turning her head down to peer into his face. A tear or two may be tracking down his small toddler cheeks. She wordlessly huffs in her own alien animalistic noise, sending the feeling of comfort to him in a primal way. Keith snuggles his face into her harder, sniffing again and hiccuping. Krolia wraps her body around him and resumes singing and humming, but this time in a cheerier tune. Keith still can’t understand it, but it’s rather nice. They stay like that for quiznak knows how long until Krolia’s seemed to have dozed off. Keith wonders how many days in a row she was traveling to get here. She must be tired. Curiously, Keith pulls away from her arms, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his toes. He’s a bit less sore than earlier. Still feverish, but not near deliriously so. He wheezes slightly as he breathes, but it isn’t as painful or laborious as before. 

With a small amount of effort, he crawls over the side of the crib railing, drops himself to the floor, and dresses himself, forgoing the diaper in favor of going commando. He’s feeling better now so he won’t need that thank you very much. His clothes feel weird against his skin, his body already running hot, and then covered in a short dense layer of fur. On second thought, he takes off his shirt, and leaves the room in just his pants. 

Keith isn’t quite sure what he’s doing or where he’s going, but he’s done lying around forever. And even if he’s decided to accept his… nutritional needs… it doesn’t mean he has to stick around Krolia, Shiro, Hunk, or Ken 100% of the time right? So he goes exploring the castleship again. There isn’t much to do. Keith doesn’t run across anybody and there isn’t anything particularly interesting. He has a feeling if he tries to train again he’ll find Allura’s already blocked his biometrics from opening the door, so he doesn’t bother. But what is there to do in one’s free time besides train? It’s been so long since Keith did anything else with it and he isn’t exactly known for having hobbies per se.

Keith roams aimlessly for a bit, trying to remember a time when he’d done anything with his free time just for the sake of it- not anything productive. His time with Voltron has been packed full of training and missions, with the blade of Marmora too. And before that, he’d been searching for Shiro in his Pa’s abandoned shack. Before that at the Garrison, it was homework and simulators. Well, thinking of his Pa’s shack brings him back to the first time he’d visited there when he was six or seven. His Pa had deemed him ready to join him hunting, or perhaps he just hadn’t had a sitter and brought Keith along to supervise him anyways. 

Keith’s Pa had teased him, telling him he’d probably cry when they got their first kill. But to Pa’s surprise, Keith had pounced on a rabbit without any weapon, killing it himself with just his hands with suspiciously sharp nails for a human. After that, Pa’d taught him to skin it and prepare the meat. He’d had to stop Keith several times from trying to eat it raw, jokingly calling him ‘an eager beaver’ and then showed him how to properly roast it. Several summers were filled with similar memories: Keith and his Pa hunting out in the desert together later into the night when it got cold and hard to see. Keith had said they were star hunters because they’d been hunting under the light of the night sky. Pa had told him he came from a line of star hunters. Keith had thought it a fanciful makebelieve story, but now with the hindsight, he supposes his Pa had been telling him the truth in a way.

Keith sighs. There isn’t anything to hunt on the castleship. Not really. The mice weren’t an option, Allura was fond of them and they had a telepathic connection to her. That would be mean. When Keith’s about to give up on the notion and move onto coming up with another idea, something catches the corner of his eye. 

A fly. A common house fly, to Keith’s knowledge. What were the odds there’d be a fly in space? Is it an earth fly? An alien fly? Keith decides this will do. Crouching lowly on all fours like a lion readying to pounce, he slowly stalks forward, his tail behind him and low. Keith lets his instincts guide him as he slowly crawls towards the fly in artistic stealth. Just as he gets close, the fly buzzes up and Keith launches himself at it. He misses, but the chase is on! Keith bounds after the fly, springing to two legs and jumping in the air, batting at it. The chase is so fun that he finds himself giggling madly, not caring that maybe he’s being a little childish. No one’s around and besides, he should lean into it right? He already had to do the embarrassing kid stuff- he might as well get to have some fun too. He chases the fly again and again until finally he catches it! It buzzes underneath his hands and Keith opens a hole in his hands just enough to see into the fly. Yep. Looks the same as any ole earth fly from back home in Texas. Keith lets it go and watches it buzz off. No use in killing it. 

Keith wanders the castleship again, encouraged by the fun he’d found. He’d found it all his own! What else could there be to do? He makes his way to the kitchens. Empty. Hmm. Distantly he wonders if it's night and everyone’s asleep? He hadn’t exactly been keeping track of the time. Or maybe they’re all training themselves? They wouldn’t have left to go on a mission without saying so right?

~~

Lance McClain

~~

Lance returns to his quarters from the training deck and takes a shower. As he’s wrapped a towel around his waist, running another through hair hair, he notices something moving in the corner of his room. It’s too large to be one of Allura’s mice, but too small to be one of his teammates. Well, except for one of his teammates. But as soon as he notices the blur of movement, it’s gone. He looks around his room, noticing that some of the stuffies on his bed are missing. He’d picked up a couple here and there at various space malls that reminded him of home. They were all creatures that vaguely resembled earthen ones: something like a combination between an eel, a giraffe, and a dolphin. Another like a cross between a cow and a mountain lion. There's three or four missing. Lance dresses in casual pants and a t-shirt and excites his quarters without even bothering to fully dry his hair. What was Keith up to?

Lance follows the sound of little feet patting on the floor until he’s made his way to a meeting hall. Keith crouches in the corner, poised to pounce on something. Lance decides to stay quiet and hide most of his body around the corner. If Keith looks over, he won’t be very hidden, but Keith seems so wired in on something that Lance doubts he’ll look his way.

Keith appears to have stolen his stuffed animals as suspected and it looks like one or two of Hunk’s, purchased for the same homesickness. He’s positioned them around the meeting room on various chairs and under various pieces of furniture, just barely sticking out. Keith appears to be stalking them. The scene reminds Lance of the one scene in Disney’s Lion King where Mufasa is teaching Simba to hunt, using Zazu as an example. Keith crouches low on all fours, his butt slightly higher in the air as he crawls forward, his tail out and twitching intently. His focus is so intense, like the border collies on Lance’s family’s farm when stalking something. Then, when he reaches close to a stuffed animal he’s perched on a chair, he pounces, knocking the stuffed animal and the chair alike to the floor. He’s grabbed the stuffy in his teeth, rolling onto his back and batting it with his clawed hands.

The moment stuns Lance to see. He’s acting so…. naturally, with no embarrassment or shame that he’s had since this whole thing began. It warms Lance’s heart to see him acting so Galran, so childlike. He ducks a bit further around his corner and doorframe, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He watches not-so-stealthily for a while longer, but Keith continues not to notice him as he intensely stalks the various stuffed animals, giggling with tiny growls when he strikes and catches each ‘prey’.

Lance watches as with each pounce and subsequent ‘scuffle’ with the stuffies that Keith’s movements grow slower and slower until he’s lying on the ground with a stuffy in his arms, letting go of it with his mouth to pant lightly like an overexcited and perhaps quite tired dog. It reminds Lance again of his family’s border collies Thatcher and Cornsilk. Keith ceases panting, licking his tiny lips and curls up on the particular stuffed animal and closes his eyes and he falls asleep right there on the floor.

Lance chooses that moment to walk out across the floor and approach him, scooping him up into his arms. Keith doesn’t budge. He’s back out of it. Lance doesn’t worry though. He might still have a low grade fever based on the warmth of his skin of his little bare chest and forehead, but it isn’t anywhere near as severe as it's been the past five days. They’ve been so intensely worried for their friend- it’s nice to see him with so much more energy, even if Keith’s spent it all for the moment. Lance carries him back to his bedroom, finding Krolia fast asleep. He settles Keith back amongst the bedding with his mother and smiles when Keith snuggles up against her again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Treske Banquet Part 1

~~

Keith Kogane

~~

The next week blended together. Keith spent his time split between Krolia, Shiro, Hunk, Ken, and Lance mainly. At some point in the week, Ken had decided the other paladins and his mother had things covered and returned back to her own job. Keith had remained the same age the whole time, but just when he was starting to get used to it, he found himself woken up shrunken even younger yet again. Now, his ears can’t even swivel of their own accord and his vision is so incredibly blurry he could barely see. 

He’s in bed with Krolia as he has been every night, for a good long while, calm and awake. But then boredom sets in, and then Keith is full and wet and can’t stand the discomfort any longer. Lance had spent time with him before bed and had set him in bed diapered. As frustrating as that was, he’s grateful his mess can’t have spread past himself to the sheets. Some nights, Krolia would take everything off and he’d lie in bed with her naked after a cleaning, but she had already been asleep when Lance had brought him back to his crib-bed and she hadn’t bothered. 

Keith tries to tilt himself over onto his belly so he can crawl to the end of the bed but his body won’t cooperate even that much. His nose scrunches in discomfort and he tries to tap Krolia awake. His arms wave weakly in the air pointed at the ceiling and he can’t even reach Krolia to tap her, even though physically his arms should be within reaching distance. Keith tries really hard to be patient but he’s super bored. He can’t even see anything to try and keep his mind occupied. After a few more moments, he gives up into the sounds begging to come from his throat. He mews, but…. no sound comes out. He mewls harder, rising in pitch to closer to a human baby’s cry. But he still can’t hear anything, even though he can feel the rumble in his tiny throat.

But then suddenly Keith’s shocked by something soft against his cheeks and nose. Oh, is Krolia nuzzling him with her nose? That’s nice. After a very surprised squawk, Keith quiets to a low nonsensical babble, spit bubbling on his lip as he coos wetly. The blurry blob that is Krolia above him smiles (probably?) and presses kisses on his forehead and cheeks just before his eyes. Keith’s shoulders shrug and his tiny feet curl into a circle in the air, kicking uselessly above him. His tail twitches uncomfortably, pinned below him under his own body weight and held in an uncomfortable position by the cinch around his diaper. 

Krolia undresses Keith and cleans him thoroughly as has become their routine, first by removing everything, then by using those little wipes to remove the bulk of the mess. All before she bends down and licks Keith’s body, first from the front until a small stream trickles out of him, then to just underneath his member. Then, she flips him on his belly, holding a hand on his tummy while she blows fuzzy raspberries against his lower back above his tail, eliciting a waterfall of spittle-heavy giggling from Keith. She proceeds to lift his tail and finish cleaning him thoroughly with her tongue. The whole thing is still disgusting to Keith, microbacteria culture living in her mouth and on her tongue or not. But it’s not like he has much of a say in the matter. And it does feel better and cleaner than whenever Lance has given him a bath. Baths make his skin clammy and cold and his fur crusty once it's dried, even freshly clean. After time with Krolia, Keith’s even softer, and he feels so much cleaner.

Keith finds himself kicking in the air, babbling incessantly and grabbing the air with useless little chubby hands. Krolia feeds him and then holds him against her chest, carrying her about the castle throughout the morning. Keith dozes on and off. When he’s awake, he squints his eyes hard, trying to see and focus his blurry vision, but it doesn’t help and only gives him a headache for his efforts. Between Krolia, Shiro, Hunk, and bottle feedings, he’s feeding at least once an hour and Keith finds any residual embarrassment he’s had about the matter quickly diminishing and being replaced with acceptance.

He’s strapped to Krolia’s chest in some type of sling that probably goes around her torso diagonally, holding him just against her breast, which he uses as a pillow. He swivels in his little sling hammock to face her, fisting his little hands in her flowy top. He can feel the vibration of her chest as she speaks, even if he can’t hear what she’s saying. He can sense similar rumbling around the room and supposes she’s talking with some of the rest of the castleship’s residents. Keith, inspired by all the chatter he can’t hear, tries his very hardest to lift an ear. To his pride and astonishment, one of his ears slowly pops up until it flicks into a standing position. Something inside his ear pops and he startles in surprise.

“Awe, I think Keith’s ear just stood up! Think he can hear us?” Oh that was Pidge!

“Pippi!” Keith babbles, little bubbles of spit forming against his lips as he struggles to form her name. His cheeks burn a little in embarrassment at his stupid lack of speech, but he’s realized these last few days none of his team is going to judge him for literally anything he does while he’s little like this. Still, some instincts and habits run deep.

“Awe he said my name!” Pidge cries with glee.

“Well, he technically said Pippi. Are you Pippi?” Hunk points out, chuckling. 

“I can be! C’mere,” Pidge coos. Krolia removes Keith from her sling, passing him to Pidge. Both of them cradle his head and neck with a lot more care than they ever have before. It’s nice, even if it’s still annoying his body won’t cooperate with his mind properly.

Pidge settles him in her arms, cradling him in a warm embrace in her lap as they talk above him.

“What will he do when we’re on planet next week with the Treske? We’ll all be needed for most of the day at least during their feast. If he’s still this little, he won’t be able to go that long between snacks,” Pidge asks, referring to his feedings as ‘snacks’ as she’s taken to doing as of late. Allura and Coran have picked up the tendency, preferring to dance around the subject of kithren.

“If he’s still this young, I suppose we’ll have to bring him with us. There isn’t much to do about that. They expect our whole delegation at the celebration and a good impression will be necessary to cement their joining the Voltrol coalition.”

“I hope he’ll be this small. He’s so cute,” Pidge coos, leaning down and booping Keith’s nose. When the time came for their trip down to the Treske’s planet, Keith’s in a foul mood. His other ear had stood up and most of his vision had cleared up, so he supposes he has aged a bit, but not enough to have perfect speech, although that had improved quite a bit too. He hadn’t really gotten bigger, but his limbs were a little more cooperative at least which was a plus. He still couldn’t walk on his own though, which was getting on his nerves.

Keith sits in Hunk’s lap, freshly fed and diapered and dressed in a tiny little suit, which he can tell Hunk finds endlessly cute and amusing. He grumbles, upset to have to be dragged along looking like this but understanding of the circumstance. Keith still remembers his kithren sickness and doesn’t want to fall into it again. He manages to fold his arms clumsily, pouting at his circumstances.

“Awe c’mon Keith the rest of us are in suits too. And besides, you’re adorably dapper,” Hunk boops Keiths nose. Squeaking in indignation, Keith flashes Hunk his angriest frown, but Hunk only laughs.

“I can’t take you seriously Keith, sorry your cheeks are too chubby and cute to be mad.” Keith turns away on Hunk’s lap, keeping his arms crossed and closing his eyes.

“Awe don’t be that way Keith, it’ll be fine. I bet loads of people have met half Galra. They probably see this stuff all the time.” Keith hadn’t thought of that. How common were half-galra? Was his age fluctuation a common experience a lot had seen or perhaps even had to go through themselves? Keith hadn’t thought about meeting another Galra hybrid. Maybe there were others out there who would get what he was going through. The thought made him feel a little less overwhelmed. Less alone.

“Alright y’all ready?” Ah that was Lance. Keith opens his eyes to the blue paladin striding into the room, all tall lithe limbs clothed in a (of course) navy blue tuxedo of sorts, not exactly the same as what they’d wear on earth but pretty damn close considering their status of being halfway across the galaxy.

“AWE bambino you’re adorable!” Keith grumbles in annoyance again at being called cute as Keith spirits him out of Hunk’s lap and into his own arms. His own red tuxedo-like suit is uncomfortable and restrictive and the tail hole doesn’t seem to be fitted quite right, causing his bottoms to ride a little too low and revealing his diaper underneath slightly, much to his embarrassment. Lance bounces Keith playfully in his arms and Keith has to grasp onto the lapels of his own suit for balance. Not that Lance would ever let him fall but hey- it was a little overwhelming being so small and vulnerable and having to rely solely on the hands holding you so high up. Lance pats his bottom affectionately and Keith’s cheeks burn. He hates when his team comforts him like an infant. And even more, he hates that it works so well. If Keith ever has kids he’s going to be so much more lowkey about the babying. This shit is mortifying. Or perhaps that’s just because he’s not actually a baby. Would his kids have to go through this when they got older? Did quarter Galrans still regress when they reach maturity? All questions he’ll have to ask Krolia once his tongue is cooperating well enough with his mind.

The rest of the team files in, plus Krolia who saunters over to Keith in a dress far too revealing for Keith to want to see his own mother in. Not overly scandalous by any means, but still not something he necessarily wants to see his own dam wearing. Huh, when did he start thinking in terms like that? Keith squeaks as Krolia shifts him out of Lance’s grasp to kiss him on the top of his head, rubbing her cheeks against his crown. His shoulders rise up instinctively to his ears at the side of his head, protecting his neck from tickling that Krolia seems prone to like to do there. She manages to wiggle her nose into the hollow between his shoulder and head anyway, nuzzling there and tickling him and scenting him all at the same time. He can’t help but giggle. Pidge and Hunk coo at the sound of it and Keith’s cheeks burn beneath his coat.

“Lance, Allura, would you mind helping me get him set up?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Set up? What- and then Keith is in Allura’s arms as Lance fiddles with something over Krolia’s dress.

“Hello, Keith.” Allura smiles down at him on her hip, so softly- so gently that Keith can’t help but hide his face in her shirt bashfully. He’s generally tried to avoid speaking while this tiny. Half the time it comes out intelligible and the other half the time he’s still so high and squeaky it’s too mortifying to stand. But he allows himself to respond.

“Hi.” His voice is small and breathy and high and Allura rubs his back sweetly before gently combing her fingers through his hair.

“Alright ready for him,” Lance speaks again, and Keith is passed to Lance’s arms before he can even blink.

“Wai! Wha?” Keith squeaks in surprise, unsure of what they’re doing anyways. Lance turns Keith around so he’s facing Lance and Krolia.

“Oh sorry tiny mullet- Krolia’s got a carrier for you. It’ll be easier than holding you the whole time, especially while she’s eating. It is a banquet after all. I don’t really know if they’ll have baby seats there or not.”

“No a baby.”

“You’re very much a baby,” Krolia corrects, frowning sternly at her kit, then turning around to display the carrier. It’s hiked up on her shoulders like a backpack, but tilted slightly to the side pointing to above her shoulder, where Keith supposes he’s supposed to be able to peak over just so. There aren’t any armholes, just leg holes and a tail hole. He’ll be able to move even less than usual.

“No,” Keith kicks his legs, trying to scramble away as Lance moves forward to lift him into the harness.

“Keith, don’t be stupid. It’s fine.” He’s NOT stupid. THIS is stupid. He keeps kicking his feet and trying to lift them up between his dam’s shoulder and his body, pushing off. His kicks do nothing to deter the pair as Krolia squats down for Lance to wrestle Keith’s feet into the harness and wrap it tight around his torso, trapping his arms. Keith growls and tries to bite one of Lance’s fingers for good measure, but he misses and snaps the ear.

“Jesus snapping turtle I didn’t do anything! Besides you can just konk out and sleep in there if you want. No one expects you to network. Think of it as you getting out of work.”

Keith supposes that’s true. Keith’s never been particularly fond of schmoozing at events like this. He’s never been the most talkative and being small is a pretty easy ticket to getting to tap out of the conversation. Lance takes his nonresponse as acceptance and they head towards Shiro’s lion, which they plan to take down to the planet.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Treske Banquet Part 2

~~~

Keith Kogane

~~~~

They’re greeted by several Treske representatives which fawn over princess Allura and even Coran, being an Altean, and greet the paladins with wide smiles and clear respect. They’re ushered into the main event where they’re introduced by an announcer with a large oddly shaped horn that weirdly sounds more like a violin than a horn instrument.

“Announcing the guests of honor, the five paladins of Voltron of the planet Earth, Princess Allura Altea of the planet Altea, Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe of Altea, and Krolia Vihrali of the Blades of Marmora.” Keith notices that they specifically announce his mom as a blade and not ‘of the planet Daibazaal’. Sure the Galran homeworld is gone, but so is Altea. And speaking of which, they’d announced Allura separately from the five paladins. Allura’s been piloting blue these days, shifting Lance to red while Shiro retakes black. Yet it seemed that they were counting Keith as the red paladin tonight? Keith’s not sure if they just have outdated information or if it was intentional so Keith didn’t feel left out. He’s torn between gratefulness to be included and wanting to not be announced at all. Hopefully it’s easier to just blend in and go unnoticed than he thinks. His tail twitches behind him and his hands shift in his bound harness, snug as a bug in a rug. Krolia must sense his unease because her own tail reaches up to twine with his in a motion of comfort. A baby babble escapes Keith’s lips against his will, cooing in content.

The evening passes and the Treske seem to make no comments on Keith in his harness prison, which is a relief. Still, it seems odd that none of them acknowledge a baby at an intergalactic banquet. Not quite the event Keith would expect young children to be at, especially because he doesn’t see any himself. The Treske are a race of people an uncanny combination between the aliens from the movie ‘Alien’ and deer, and Keith can’t figure out how to make proper eye contact with them. 

They speak in clicks and whirrs. Keith’s still a bit amazed by language technology. The Treske wear their translation devices as necklaces, as their ear structure isn’t quite clear, but team Voltron wears small devices in their ears to translate. He knows Allura and Coran are hearing Altean, his mom Galran, and himself and the rest of his human team, English. Although perhaps Shiro’s hearing Japanese and Lance is hearing Italian or Spanish- Keith isn’t sure. Keith only knows he’s hearing English thanks to the little listening device pressed in one of his ears. It’s a little tight with how small he is, but he insisted he wanted to be able to hear too. It’s already fallen out twice, and both times someone’s had to bend down and retrieve it for him, nestling it back into his ear. Twice throughout the evening, Krolia’s ducked out to feed him and then they returned back into the party with Keith once again swiveled up onto her back, resting his tiny chin on her shoulder.

The night passes uneventfully and the Treske thankfully continue to ignore his presence altogether, just like he’d hoped. Keith finds himself immensely bored and fighting that fuzzy feeling that comes on when his headspace is dropping. He’s tired and his belly is uncomfortably full and pressed up against Krolia’s back and one of his arms has fallen asleep and he’s sooo bored.

His throat fights to babble and he tries so so hard not to. He’s not brought any attention to himself and that surely would. But he finds it a losing battle.

~~

Lance McClain

~~

Lance is talking to a female Treske animatedly about Earthen black and white movies, trying to find a way to describe Roman Holiday and the effervescence that is the Audrey Hepburn but is having a hard time relating it to her. The Treske don’t really have an equivalent experience to movies, which Lance takes personally offensive to. He gasps dramatically telling her Lance will have to take her to see one sometime. How we’ll take an alien to see an Earth movie over a hundred years old lightyears from his homeplanet he isn’t sure, but the thought is sweet and he’s able to tease in his favorite flirty tone. The Treske seems flattered and amused by the attention and even though neither of them is physically attractive or compatible with one another, the flirtatious game is fun.

“Ooh what does this do?” a Treske touches the small rectangular device clipped onto the waistband of Lance’s suitpants at his hip. He jumps, startled and goes to answer.

“Oooh don’t fiddle with that I kinda need that to-”

Lance’s distracted with a small sound to his left and side glances over to Krolia and Keith. Lance can tell Keith’s been fighting his brain for some time now. His tail’s been twitching nonstop, the swings of his tail getting larger and longer like he’s losing control over it. Lance knows he’d been trying to keep as little attention on himself as possible. Lance catches the tail end of Keith actually saying something, the first words he’s spoken all night as far as Lance knows.

“Sorry- just a second,” he excuses himself from his Treske companions and makes his way back over towards where Krolia speaks with another alien species, perhaps a foreign dignitary.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lance asks. Allura is with them and greets Lance.

“Ah, Lance. This is Moitara, a foreign dignitary from Irnth,” yep. Lance had nailed it. He loves being right, “Moitara, this is Lance, our Blue Paladin.” From Krolia’s back, Keith lets out a little ‘mrp!’ sound. Oh okay so he’s not actually speaking he’s just babbling. The Moitara is some sort of species that loosely resembles a doberman with a slender snout and quadruped build, with long tipped pointed ears and a long slender pantherlike tail. Their front legs taper into something more akin to human hands which they walk on the knuckles similar to a gorilla. They wear shifting robes tied around their body in many places, keeping them from sliding against the floor.

“It’s simply the cutest thing I’ve ever seen ,” Moitara cooes, the jewelry speckled all up and down his ears jingling as he leans his head forward around to Keith. He sniffs at Keith’s face and Keith squeals, shoving his head down against his shoulders and trying to hide his ticklish spot. Moitara reaches forward to tickle Keith’s side and Keith mewls in an unhappy protest. Krolia steps back tensely, too crowded by the stranger and Lance can tell she’s fighting blade training and parental instincts to prevent herself from flinging this alien halfway across the room for invading hers and her son’s personal space.

“My sister has a meak at home herself, but nothing as adorable as this little creature! What is it called?” Moitara cooes. Lance looks between them and Allura in confusion.

“Well, he’s called Keith,” Lance supplies.

“Keat! It is so cute!” Moitara mispronounces Keith’s name. From Krolia’s back, Keith cries ‘Keith!’ in correction. The outburst frankly is adorable and Lance finds himself biting back a coo himself. He doesn’t want to embarrass Keith in case his mind is himself in there and mortified at his actions in front of the Irthan dignitary. But it’s so hard because Keith is being so cute. Lance wants desperately to spirit him from the harness into his arms and squeeze his little belly.

“He is not an it, he is my son.” Krolia bites a bit too tensely. Relax, Kro! Lance encourages in his mind. Krolia’s got as much political tact as her son in situations like these. The Irnth people might just use pronouns differently. It could be a mistranslation with their devices, although they’ve been working just fine for every other species Lance has talked to tonight. Moitara seems taken aback by the statement.

“Come now, that is taking your love for him a bit far, is it not?”

“What do you dare to-” Krolia’s anger is rising to her face and Allura steps between them.

“Aaalright, I see there are some cultural differences here. Moitara, why don’t you share with us more about your sister and her little one? How is it different on Irnth?” Krolia’s still two seconds from belting this guy, but it works to appease the tension. Keith is gathering none of it, gleefully babbling from his place at Krolia’s shoulder and blowing little spit bubbles. His tail is flashing madly back and forth and Krolia reaches up to pet the side of his face with a cupped hand. He nestles into the touch and Lance can see his arms wriggling fiercely in his little cocoon. The little guy clearly wants out.

“My sister’s is named Arnth. It’s 6 earthen years old is the timescale I believe you use?” Moitara says, glancing Lance’s way, “Anyways. It’s a bit large for my taste. I enjoy them small and helpless like Keat here. Much cuter that way.” That doesn’t settle right with Lance. What do the Irnth do with their young when they get bigger? Their pups can’t stay small for too long with how massive Moitara is, right? But alien biology is weird and culture can be hard to grasp at times, so Lance keeps his mouth shut. To Lance’s surprise, Allura also seems confused. She’s been exposed to far more alien cultures than he has, so it makes Lance a bit relieved he isn’t the only one lost here.

Allura asks Moitara another question, keeping up the friendly diplomatic tone and Moitara laughs, jewelry in their ears twinkling as their ears wiggle back in the air with the toss of their head. Meanwhile, Keith starts losing his patience. His arms wiggle harder and he starts kicking his little legs against Krolia’s back with all his might. His tail sticks straight out as he battles to free himself from the harness with 0 chance of success. He’s mumbling angrily, growling and spitting and three seconds away from a full on baby meltdown. He’s drawing attention from several groups nearby who look at him with mixed reactions of concern, confusion, and annoyance. Yeah that’s not really going to work well with Keith’s whole ‘trying to keep a low radar’ wishes for the night.

“Oookay why don’t I give the little mullet a break from that harness thingy, Krolia?” Lance offers. Krolia looks hesitant to release her baby, but looks back at Keith’s angry struggle and sighs resignedly. She can tell Keith’s frustrated and wants some freedom. She unlatches part of the harness, swinging it around her body and loosening it, freeing his chubby little arms. One of Keith’s ears flops over and stands back up, momentarily losing rigidity in the cartilage. Is he fluctuating between ages now? Well, Krolia doesn’t seem too concerned, so Lance doesn’t say anything as she passes Keith Lance’s way. Lance takes the tiny mullet off to the side at a table and grabs two little cake-thingies and hands one to Keith, who starts drooling all over it instead of actually eating it, having more fun waving it about in his fist and squishing it all over the place than actually consuming it. Lance takes a bite of his himself. WOAH that’s sweet.

“Yeah those gotta be like… made of sugar. Or the Treske equivalent of sugar anyway,” Hunk laughs, approaching the two, “Woah, Lance. I think Keith’s ruined his suit,” he chuckles, pointing down at the creamy cakey mess of crumbs muttered across the lapel of Keith’s tiny suit.

“Eh he didn’t wanna wear it anyway,” Lance shrugs, taking a napkin and trying to dab off the mess the best he can. It helps a little, but not entirely.

“What was he getting restless?”

“A little, yea. If I didn’t get him outta there he was getting ready to bust some heads.” Nevermind that at the current age and size Keith’s at the worst damage he could do is bite somebody. And he doesn’t even have sharp teeth. He’s so young right now that his claws are barely more than soft fingernails. Lance is surprised his ears are still popped at all and that he seems to be able to see pretty clearly. Based on his limb coordination he seems really little right now. Keith stops abruptly in his grip and turns his big round eyes up at Lance.

He babbles and his nose wiggles back and forth insistently, sniffing up at Lance intently. He raises his hands and manages to hook a finger in Lance’s mouth, and cries, “froo!” Lance chuckles.

“You already had your fruit cake. You smashed it, remember? I already ate mine!” Lance removes Keith’s finger from his lips. Keith frowns deeply in a pout. Was he not trying to say fruit? Lance swallows, trying to summon some saliva. His mouth feels very dry. Must have been that bizarre cake thing. He’s thirsty too. He looks to the side, seeking someone walking around with one of those trays of water he saw earlier. The movement of his head causes a screen of dizziness over him and spotty vision. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, he can hear Hunk’s worried voice.

“Lance are you oka- Woah. What happened to your pump?” 

“His what? His where? Mm that cake really was sweet. Where is his lion? Where was he?”

“Mmmawha?” Lance mumbles, turning back in a circle too far around just to look down at his hip where Hunk’s gesturing. The small rectangular device at his hip is crackling and bent. Oh had the confused Treske earlier broken it accidentally? Lance can’t remember for the life of him what that thing’s supposed to do. Lance steps towards Hunk and finds his legs are jelly and uncooperative.

“Lance!” Hunk cries as Lance collapses forwards. Keith screams loudly at the sudden drop in altitude and Hunk manages to catch Lance from collapsing to the floor entirely and slips Keith from Lance’s arms into one of his own, preventing either of them from hitting the ground.

“MMMa hewo Hunk! Whhyyy’re we n’ sssspace? Mm floatin’?” Lance can hear himself slurring his words. That’s not right. Why does he sound like that? His head is so floaty and that screen of dizziness grows heavier. He giggles. They’ve attracted a bit of a crowd now. Hunk shoves Keith into someone else’s arms and Lance clutches onto Hunk’s arm as he puddles to the floor.

“Lance, Lance, when was the last time your pump gave you insulin, do you know?”

“Whas a Lamp?” Lance asks. He’d meant to say ‘what’s a lance?’ but eh close enough. He giggles. The laughter roils his stomach and suddenly he’s puking onto the floor.

“Err,” he groans, “Sssorry Hunk. Blue hass shtopped respomding,” he frowns down at his vomit on the floor and Hunt’s shoes.

“It’s okay Lance- hey Coran!” Hunk placates quickly before calling for their resident medic-mechanic coranic. Hehe Coranic. That’s a funny name. Co-ran-ic. Lance is breathing so fast now and his heart feels so funny and fluttery. A bone tiredness sets into Lance’s bones, sapping all his energy.

“MMm napptime,” He slurs as Hunk shifts him so his arm is across Hunk’s shoulders and he hauls up to his feet. Lance stares down at his toes which dangle uselessly against the floor, as he’s put absolutely zero effort into straightening his knees and standing.

“Wooah m’flying,” he remarks lazily looking over to Hunk. Wow Hunk looks worried.

“Why so glum, chum?” Lance giggles sleepily.

“Hey don’t go to sleep, buddy,” Hunk says, gently slapping his face with his other hand. Hey! Rude! Lance frowns, pouting. Coran comes over then.

“Oh my. We’ll have to get him back to the castleship. I don’t have any additional insulin on me. Quickly now.”

“Wait- where’s Keith?” Ooh that’s Allura’s voice! 

“Llura!” Lance smiles, looking over at his beautiful, beautiful friend. They’re all beautiful. Hunk’s beautiful, and Pidge is beautiful, and Shiro is beautiful, and-

“I can care for him while you take care of your paladin. We’ll be right here!” A voice sounds to the side. Lance’s friends seem to hesitate, but accept the offer.

“But we will be right back! Just a tick! Stay right there,” Allura commands. Wow so princessy. Prince-y. P r i n c e s h y. It’s a funny word. Ope there go the lights.

“Lance, don’t pass out now,” Hunk pleads, worry etched in his tone. Too late! Lance giggles. Lights out. Nap time.