Accidental Intentions

39 • Confession

Okay, so this didn't exactly go as planned.

All Keith wanted was to give Lance a taste of the uncomfortableness that Lance was making him feel. But playing a serious game of gay chicken in front of an audience wasn't how he planned it to go down. And by audience he meant Shiro.

He couldn't care less what Pidge thought. He had a hard time connecting with her anyways. They needed to go on a life-changing adventure together or something. But Shiro was different. An older brother. Someone he wanted to impress and make proud. And Keith had yet to come out to him.

That is, he never really planned to. Keith liked to tell himself it wasn't about fear of rejection or disappointment, but simply the fact that his love life was not anybody's damn business. But as he stood there, Lance in his arms, lips quivering a few inches from Lance, eyes squeezed shut, the reality of the lie was all to clear.

Shiro had called out in shock, probably because he mistook their affection for something like a sloppy fight before realizing.

Keith forced his eyes open as he gulped for air. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He steeled himself for a long moment before he took a deep breath and released Lance. A very flushed and stunned Lance. He turned to Shiro.

"Fit in a match before breakfast?" Keith asked.

Shiro nodded silently as he followed the Red Paladin down the hall to the training room.

"What...but you? Huh?" Lance finally managed to squeak out as they left.

"Dude," Keith heard Pidge say before he was out of earshot.

* * *

Still trembling, Keith trips over the laces of the gloves. He caught Shiro worrying but the man said nothing and allowed him to finish up without offering assistance. Keith allowed himself a grim smile. The Black Paladin sure knew how to handle him: like a injured wild animal.

Using he teeth to tighten the knots, Keith flipped his hair back out of his face and snapped his fists together, signaling he was ready. Shiro silently raised his fists, elbows tucked into his side's in a defensive position. Keith lost no time in venting his emotional turmoil in the only way he knew how: physical violence.

He led with a roundhouse, which Shiro instinctively blocked with his right arm. Pain exploded in Keith's shin after crashing into solid Galra tech. The adrenaline was pumping, he knew, but something else was off, he could still feel pain.

Shiro smacked him upside the head, mussing his hair as he went. Keith knew what that meant from back when he was learning to fight. Focus. Don't just blindly attack, otherwise you'll hurt yourself.

But try as he might. Keith couldn't. This way of venting only worked for so long. He wanted to focus on the fight. Everything was so much simpler when fighting. You vs. Them. But this was different. Gone too far, shown too much. Keith wanted to die, wanted to throw himself into the fight and forget, but he couldn't. Every time he tried to squash down the emotions he was feeling they bubbled up again like a lidded pot bioling over. Eventually, Shiro placed his hand over Keith's gloved fists.

"Keith. Stop."

Keith sunk to his knees in defeat, barely holding in the tears with a quivering lower lip. He lowered his head and attempted to make his breath sound more like he was panting for air and less like sobs. He wrinkled his face as if he were in pain, just waiting for Shirt to finally share his thoughts. That he was disappointed. That maybe Voltron would be better off with someone else at the head.

But when he spoke, Shiro said none of those things.

"I'm so proud of you."

Keith blinked a few times, sure he had misheard. He raised his red rimmed eyes that were moments from spilling over. Shiro was looking at him with such warmth and affection.

"I thought--" he started, but stopped when he heard how broken his voice sounded.

"You did the right thing, trying to take it out on me. But next time he tries to pull a stunt like that, you have my permission as your friend and as your commanding officer to punch him. That was taking it too far." Shiro laid a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't see! He saw but he didn't see! What! How? Actually Keith didn't really care how. He was just grateful it happened that way. His heart was thumping and he was so shaken up that he still couldn't breathe easily. He tried to suck in a sigh of relief, but ended up choking on air. Slowly, his body began to relax, but his mind was still going a mile a minute. His stomach felt gross.

"Are you okay?" Shiro prodded after a while.

Keith nodded, not yet had he spoken a word.

"Alright." Shiro rose to his feet. "I've got to see a man about a nose."

As Shiro walked towards the exit, Keith's gut was summersults. Making a decision he bit down hard on his tongue, drawing blood.

"Shiro!" He called out in weird, strangled voice that sounded so horrifically pathetic and desperate to his own ears.

Shiro stopped immediately in his tracks and looked back, concerned.

Keith tried to look him in the eye, he wanted this moment to be able to look people in the eye. But it was Shiro. So instead he looked down at his gloved hands. The laces were coming undone. Psyching himself with a deep breath, Keith managed to mumble out what he had been wanting to say for years.

"I'm gay."