Chapter Text
When Voltron went missing for three years, Matt lost his mind a little.
His best friend--Shiro, the one he’d worked so hard to impress, that he’d spent months with on a cramped ship and then a claustrophobic lunar lander--the one he’d been abducted with, who saved his life and sacrificed his own--the one who’d enthusiastically embraced him when he returned to the Castle after Pidge’s rescue--
His pet stray--Keith, the one who’d always been in Shiro’s shadow--outgrown his hero worship and settled into downright devotion to one of the few people who had ever given him a chance--screamed at him to pull up at Naxzela and he’d listened, thank fuck--
And his sister, of course--Katie, who never should’ve been conscripted into this intergalactic war but still threw herself in wholeheartedly--just as stupid as he is, affectionately speaking, for the Black Paladins and willing to follow wherever they lead--
--too much to bear. A triptych of loss, tripled each year.
And then to see them all again on Earth...
And to see Keith, grown into himself and his heritage, standing on his own, without Shiro. Clearly something happened, Shiro’s hair was white and his prosthetic was mangled, but either they’d tell him or they wouldn’t. Not his place to speculate, plus he had his own problems, what with trying to ensure Earth’s defense against the Fires of Purification along with the rest of the Rebels.
The dynamic had shifted by then, too. Matt had halfway caught up to Shiro in the time rift as far as the age gap, and nearly caught up to him in the height department. Keith was... older than him now? Maybe? Hard to tell, but. Handsome. And lethal. Definitely not the skinny little punk he used to be, strong not just physically but in force of personality too.
They were all three members of the Tragic Facial Scar Club by then, with Keith’s new burn lancing up from his right jawline. He looked good like that, Matt doesn't say. But the resemblance to his Galra lineage was getting uncanny. He looked alien and incredible. Maybe it had a little to do with his academic focus on xenobiology? That was what he told himself at first, anyway.
Shiro was the captain of the ship his father designed, sharp in his black and white Garrison garb. Keith was the new head of Voltron, the Red Paladin of the Black Lion. They took to command well, but Matt could tell how heavy the laurels were on their heads.
Matt, for his part, still felt like just some dweeb with a bum knee who only just learned how to whack Galra with the ass-end of his staff, even though objectively he was one of Olia’s most valued lieutenants in space and the Rebels’ liaison with the government of Earth since they had arrived to help throw off the yoke of Galran occupation. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see it, he wouldn’t have believed it anyhow. Who was he, compared to actual people who made real decisions about stuff that actually mattered?
Watching the rift grow between Shiro and Keith was hard, but neither of them seemed to notice or comment on it, which was even harder for Matt. The three of them had been so close, and Keith used to stick with Shiro even to his own detriment. It used to be so obvious that Keith was totally enamored by his erstwhile mentor.
But then… Shiro was immersed in Garrison politics and chain of command, Keith had his small unit with a much more collaborative command structure, and Matt was somehow caught in the middle between his old crewmate and his old stray human.
The more responsibility Shiro took on, the more unapproachable he became. Not really his fault; Matt suspected the Garrison was trying to corral and control him, and through him, the only real asset Earth had to offer an intergalactic Coalition government. The kind interpretation was that Shiro was too busy trying to do the right thing to notice that his goodwill was being taken advantage of. The uncharitable way of looking at things... wasn’t worth thinking about. Probably.
Keith was still right there, though. Keith still trained with his Paladins daily, including Matt’s little sister. Well, she might have been little, but her ferocity more than made up for her lack of mass. She didn’t realize how much she was emulating her team leader, but Matt was proud of Keith for pushing Katie out of her shell and making a respectable gremlin out of her.
Matt asked to join the training sessions, but couldn’t. Not the Voltron ones, anyway. And when he and Keith actually tried to spar one-on-one, the differences in their training and martial approach were so stark that they had to give up halfway through, laughing at how hopeless it was.
They’re a good match. Always had been, but it was becoming more and more obvious. Matt had always thought Keith was too serious, because he was a cranky kid and he became a surly adult. But really he was just… intense, with everything he does. He shines like a star, violent churning nuclear reactions putting out light for the galaxy to marvel at.
Matt was just thrilled to be part of his gravity well, treated as an equal to this kind of man. Keith reminded him that Matt wasn’t ordinary, either, and his praise was so genuine it took Matt’s breath away.
That night, after they’d grabbed drinks to celebrate their terrific failure, Matt had meant to walk Keith back to his room to say good night. The words, of course, died on his tongue when Keith crowded in and pushed his own words into Matt’s mouth--you don’t have to go.
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The story of the clone facility doesn’t come out until much later.
After the war, after losing the Lions, Voltron is unmoored and its Paladins unfocused. Not everyone knows what they want. Matt’s fielding some major existential despair from Pidge, who is only just now 18 with an entire intergalactic conflict in her rear view mirror and nowhere to focus her genius now that it’s over.
Matt doesn’t know what to tell her. He’s in the same position. He knows it’s not totally over; he got that sense from talking with Keith, whose organization is going to try to reform what’s left of the Galra Empire now that their homeworld of Daibazaal has been restored. There’s a lot of work to do. And Matt doesn’t want to give up fighting.
Unlike Shiro, who seems to have had all his mind can take. It’s not his fault he was trapped in the Arena for a year. His adrenals are burnt out. His doctors are ordering a change of pace for him to rest. And he’s gotten so close to his crewmates on the bridge of the Atlas. Veronica is one of his most trusted friends, now, and she’s even dating Keith’s second-in-command, Acxa. Veronica’s going through a lot of what Matt is, too, since they’re both older siblings of Paladins and all that.
What’s most surprising is that Shiro seems to be closest to his comms officer more than anyone else. The announcement that they’re dating doesn’t even come in person, but through a Garrison press release. It doesn’t feel right, but in the deliberately-posed photo, Shiro’s smiling, his face relaxed.
It’s all Matt’s ever wanted for him.
Keith, too. At least that’s what he says, choked out around gulps of nunvil in Matt’s new place on this new Earth. This is how Matt finds out, finally, about the clone facility. About an “I love you” that changed everything. Not all for the better, as it turned out. Keith doesn’t even know if Shiro remembers. Apparently he’s never asked, and at this point, he tells Matt, he doesn’t want to know. He rips through the alcohol like a man dying of thirst.
Matt’s heart sure does feel a way. He’s being trusted with this information now. “I love you, man, but you can’t do this to yourself,” he says gently.
“You love me?” Keith hiccups out.
“Well, yeah.”
“I thought—only he could ever—” hic “—I know I’m hard to love, but—”
“You’re not,” Matt tells him. He’s never been. Not for Matt.
That date ends up becoming their unofficial anniversary, looking back on it. Keith might be bad with words, but he’s honest with his affection. And, freed from any obligation to Earth now that the immediate war with the Fires of Purification is over, they can go anywhere, do anything--and they choose to do good, wherever they can find the opportunity. They’re both still working hard on the fringes of the universe, eradicating the last of Imperial influence--together.