Chapter Text
It turns out that even if you go through hell and back, become a hero known across the stars, and save the universe, you can still in fact, be a huge fucking idiot.
Shiro seemed to be learning that lesson a lot lately.
This last week alone was evidence of that.
Let’s start at day one: Shiro had come back from the weekend with a massive hangover- he was never going out drinking with the rest of the paladins and Matt ever again- and made it halfway to the bridge of the Atlas before realizing he wasn’t even in uniform.
He couldn’t even say he was at least in casual clothes to save his dignity because he was walking around in a t-shirt that had the words “Earth’s Mightiest Defender” scribbled on it with a poorly drawn picture of what he assumed was the Atlas transformed. Matt was never the world’s greatest artist, and since it was his handwriting on the shirt, it was safe to assume that this was his doing. Also, the word “Mightiest” had been crossed out and replaced with red lettering that said “HOTTEST” in Pidge’s handwriting.
He had sort of wondered about the funny looks people were giving him, but hungover Shiro was never one to question things too hard. Figures something this embarrassing would happen to him. Nothing good came from the Holts getting drunk together- a fact he learned the hard way, the very night Pidge turned twenty-one.
To top it all off, he’d only noticed because Veronica had crossed his path and promptly burst into poorly concealed laughter as soon as she set eyes on him.
So, Monday hadn’t been the height of his prestigious career.
Then on Tuesday, he’d gotten a frantic call from an unknown man that begged him to help save his son. Shiro had kindly and calmly given out instructions for CPR while he got Pidge to call 911. It should have been a proud moment to help someone in need, but then when the paramedics got there, they told Pidge they were going to have to get someone to do a psych evaluation on the man, who had apparently been trying to resuscitate a watermelon.
It wasn’t really Shiro’s fault, but it made great teasing material for his friends.
Wednesday had passed without preamble, but Thursday- now that was a different story.
Thursday he almost set his apartment on fire because he was trying to make dinner while simultaneously having a conversation over the phone with Matt. He really should have known better- any conversation with Matt required full attention to deal with…. Well, Matt.
Long story short, the cupboards above his stove had scorch marks on them now.
Hunk had given him some new sort of alien cuisine to try out on Friday, and it tasted fine, but twenty minutes later he vomited it all over the Atlas’ controls. If that wasn’t bad enough, it turned out he was allergic to one of the ingredients, so he broke out in hives. Plus, he was so out of it he’d been inconsolably crying and trying to apologize to Atlas for making a mess and that it “was always pretty, no matter what anyone else said”.
Also, did he mention that it was his last day as Captain? Because it was, and he was never going to live it down.
Saturday night found him back out at the bars with everyone and then some. They were planning on going out Friday night to celebrate Shiro’s retirement, but what with the whole puking incident, they all thought it better to wait another day. And despite his earlier declaration that he wouldn’t go out drinking with Matt and Pidge again, he had made an exception.
It was a terrible choice.
They drunkenly thought it would be funny to steal a cop car, and somehow Shiro and the rest of the paladins had gotten arrested alongside them.
Sunday he wasn’t even going to talk about, as he was doing his utmost best to burn it from his memory.
This week was going a lot better though. He was already halfway through it and had mercifully avoided doing anything colossally stupid.
He had been hesitant about taking an early retirement- he was barely in his thirties, and with his illness in his younger years he’d always been in a rush to do as much as possible in the short time he had left. But he was tired of fighting, and although they were in a far more peaceful time, that didn’t mean there weren’t battles to be had, or giant space monsters with no concept of right or wrong to stop them from wanting to smush a ship in its path.
He’d toiled for months over the idea, guilt for even considering it nearly overtaking him until Keith came to visit Earth and sat him down for a talk after taking one look at him. Keith, never one to mince words, had promptly told him that he was being ridiculous, and that if anyone deserved an early retirement, it would be Shiro. He reassured him that he wasn’t being lazy or “abusing his privileges as a former paladin of Voltron”- he had earned his pension, and the whole universe knew it. He had died for fuck’s sake. Keith’s words, not his.
And since Keith had never been one to do things by halves, he had been sure to let everyone else know what Shiro was thinking and make sure that they all reaffirmed his earlier statements.
Naturally, they had all been nothing but supportive, so he stopped worrying about it after about two months of non-stop encouragement from them.
He was actually enjoying his time off, now that it was finally here. It felt like his whole life he’d been running towards the finish line, and he only recently learned there was no time limit, or even a race involved. Even when he’d died and been absorbed into Black’s consciousness, there had always been that faint feeling that he was waiting for something to sweep him along.
Now, he finally got a chance to just breathe and enjoy life as it was.
Still, it wasn’t in his nature to stay inactive for too long, so he agreed to visit the Garrison and spar with Matt that day.
As it turned out, Matt had to opt out early on the sparring because one of the cadets in his branch had somehow caused a power outage that shut down half the Garrison by accident. Pidge was out making recruitment trips to schools for the day, so Matt was the one who had to take charge of the situation.
Shiro was about to leave to find something else to do- maybe see if anyone needed help with anything- when he turned around and nearly walked into someone.
“Oh, excuse me,” he apologized, taking a step back.
He got a warm chuckle in reply and a friendly hand clasped on his non-prosthetic shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Shirogane. But what are you doing back here? I thought you were leaving us all in the dust,” the newcomer teased.
He looked up- and wasn’t that a novel surprise- and laughed. “Curtis! I thought after five years you’d know I could never stay away from this place for too long. Also, haven’t I told you before to just call me Shiro?”
Curtis had worked on the bridge of the Atlas with him for years, and also had the honor of being one of Lance’s cousins. Well, second cousin once removed or something like that, but close enough. Honestly, they just referred to each other as cousins anyways.
Oh, and did he mention that he’d had a massive crush on the man for at least three of the years they’d known each other? Because he definitely did.
How could he not? Curtis was kind, funny, intelligent, and generally pleasant to be around. Not to mention, he wasn’t bad on the eyes either. If you looked up tall, dark, and handsome in the dictionary, his picture would be there beside the definition. That was not an exaggeration either. Matt had taken the liberty of stealing Shiro’s dictionary once and gluing a picture of Curtis in there just to make that joke.
It wasn’t Shiro’s fault that Curtis was drop dead gorgeous. He couldn’t help falling for him.
Besides, he had a thing for tall guys. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he totally did. And Curtis was even taller than he was, which was a rare find for non-alien people in Shiro’s company.
So in short, he had it bad for him.
“Aww, but Shirogane has such a nice way of rolling off the tongue,” he joked, slapping him lightly on the arm. “And you didn’t really answer my question,” he needled.
Shiro huffed in mock annoyance, doing his best to ignore the way that first sentence had made his stomach flutter. “Well, if you must know, I came to spar with Matt. But there were some…. technical difficulties with the cadets, so he left to go take care of it.”
“What a shame,” Curtis said, “But if you’re still up for a little sparring, I’d be happy to take his place.” There was a glint of challenge in his eyes that made Shiro grin wider.
“You’re on.”
Twenty minutes later found them still grappling on the training mats, sweaty and out of breath. Shiro had won round, and Cutis another- this was their third round for the tie-breaker.
Shiro almost thought he had it in the bag for one second, but then the lights flickered out and Curtis rolled them so he was pinning the former paladin to the mat with his arm behind his back.
“Getting distracted after your retirement, Shirogane?”
Shiro wheezed out a short laugh. “What can I say? I’m an old man- I went gray years ago.”
Curtis chuckled above him, leaning down to speak lowly in his ear. “Yield.”
Shiro was practically ready to melt into a puddle after hearing that husky voice, so he did the only logical thing: he yielded. It was only slightly disappointing when the warm weight on his back lifted. And by slightly, he meant massively disappointing, but at least now his arm was released.
He rolled himself over so he could lie on his back and try to catch his breath, only to find that although Curtis was no longer pinning him down, he was still hovering over him.
His breath caught in his throat.
The other’s blue eyes were nearly glowing from the low light coming from Shiro’s prosthetic.
“Kind of dark in here, huh?” Curtis said softly.
Shiro swallowed thickly. “Um, yeah. Maybe…. Maybe Matt’s having more trouble with getting the power back on,” he suggested.
He thought he saw Curtis smile ever so slightly. “Probably. I can never tell with the Holts. They’re just on a whole different level. Can’t say I mind much, though.” It felt like his eyes were burning straight through Shiro.
“Yeah, me neither,” he breathed out.
His eyes started to drift shut as Curtis drew nearer, closing the distance between them.
Then the lights flared on, and alarms started blaring, effectively giving Shiro a heart attack.
The two of them leapt up, looking towards the exits and mentally preparing themselves for the worst until the alarms shut off suddenly, and Matt’s voice crackled on over the intercoms.
“Sorry! Sorry! No need to panic, everyone, we were just recalibrating the systems to make sure they weren’t damaged in our little…incident, but fear not! Everything is fine, and we’ve got power back in all sectors, so go about your business! Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience!” he said before turning off the mic.
They relaxed at that, grateful that they didn’t have to worry about fighting anyone else.
Shiro snuck a glance at Curtis from the corner of his eye. The taller man turned to smile disarmingly at him. “Well, I guess I should get back to work. It was nice seeing you, Shiro,” he said, bending down to grab the uniform he’d discarded at the start of their sparring and waving as he walked off.
“Right. You too,” he replied, pretending like the flush on his cheeks was from their spar and not what happened afterwards.
It wasn’t until later that he realized Curtis had called him Shiro and not Shirogane.