Chapter Text
A tear of sweat ran down Shiro’s forehead, the intensity of the battle draining the sparkle of hope from his dark eyes. The Voltron team was surrounded, fallen in a trap so neatly laid by the enemies and prepared to face defeat, and inevitably, Shiro felt the weight of responsibility crushing his shoulders; after all, he had been the one leading them into this tragic situation.
It was over.
“Guys… What do we do?”, someone asked, a beaten voice Shiro didn’t recognize at the time as Hunk’s for not paying enough attention. His eyes darted from one side to the other, examining their surroundings with desperation; there must be something they could do to turn the tables. What were they missing?! Victory was imminent, and it was still attainable, but only if he and his squad worked through these adversities together.
“Okay, team, this is it. Now or never! We have less time than we need to turn this battle around, but we got this in the bag. We’ve been through worse and got back up. Are we giving up now?”, a stern voice of leadership echoed through the team’s connected microphones, replenishing their determined spirits with words of power and courage, he harnessed the power of words to rejuvenate a physically and emotionally drained team. “One last push, boys, and this victory belongs to us.”
There was a collective racket of agreement, their game faces back on.
“That’s what I’m talking about! Pidge, what’s our status?”
“Hunk’s cannon is in cooldown and might need around sixty seconds before we can use it again!”, intelligent and technical, the youngest of the group had an eye out for all the general conditions of the team, as well as the information they had gathered of their opponents. “But Lance’s weapon is up and the soldier on the left is charging his cannon as well!”
“Lance?”, the leader shutout over the vague interference on the communication. “There’s your opening!”
“I’m on it!”, the self-proclaimed marksman aimed his weapon to the line of enemy soldiers that approached them, an instant pull of the trigger bringing one of them to their knees. “YEAAAH!! WOO, DID YOU SEE THAT?”
“You can celebrate once we’re not about to die!!”, Hunk declared in a high pitch, dodging a bunch of bullets and urging the others to do the same. “They’ve taken damage from your attack but that’s only one down out of five! Watch it, Keith!”
The latter, making use of his speed to move to a closer range attack, used his blade to slice through their adversaries, almost recklessly had it not been backed up by both Pidge and Shiro’s cover. Keith sure kept quiet during their games, unless some asshole on the opposing team pissed him off; if that was the case, the teenager would throw a tantrum and declare war on that player specifically, not considering a victory unless he’d wreck the enemy’s spirit and self-esteem. A short-tempered high-schooler who got kicked out of gaming servers all too often for negative attitude.
“That was totally my kill!”, a grumpy Lance expressed his need for constant bickering towards Keith with an eye roll and a pout, a distraction that earned an opportunity for a robot that ran straight towards him, sword in hand.
Had it not been for Hunk’s headbutt on the guy, their team would be one man down. “HEY, watch out!”
“Stay focused!”, the oldest member of the bunch imposed, proceeding with his plan for victory. “Keith, move on beyond them and head to their base. We’ll hold them off long enough for you to get their Nexus and destroy it! Pidge, Lance, lure them to me and Hunk so we can finish them!”
League of Legends was a horrible game, as they were reminded whenever they played it, but they’d always get back to it when Overwatch servers were down and managed to have fun together. As foretold, Keith took his overly fed jungler to the enemy respawn area and destroyed it, while the others eliminated the opposing team to get an Ace. When the word “Victory” illuminated their screens, the team was filled with a sense of accomplishment beyond measure, letting out sighs of relief.
To think that they were about to lose this one… heh. As if. Team Voltron was unbeatable in its formation.
“Good job, everyone! If we weren’t all so far apart I would take you all out for ice cream, that game was so agonizing, y’all deserve a reward.”
“WOOOO, VICTORY-Y-Y!”
“Phewwww, that was a close one!”, the smile of the kind-hearted Samoan boy could be heard in his voice, an open mouth yawn bringing a full stop to his sentence. “I’m going to sleep now, though.”
“Aww, c’mon, man, it’s only 4 here, it’s even earlier there!”, Lance’s schedule was more rucked up than anyone else’s; the boy slept during day time and only really came alive at night, packed with energy obtained exclusively from salty snacks and energy drinks.
“Sorry, bud, 1AM here and I’m beat. Tomorrow I’ll stay a bit longer, promise!”
“Pfft, you’re a bore! Gotta pee, b-r-b!”, carelessly, the caramel-skinned Cuban boy tossed the headphones to his gaming keyboard to run to the bathroom to do his business. In the long distance the internet managed to shorten, they could hear loud curses in Spanish, from the lady they knew as Lance’s mum, famous for often dragging out their AD carry by the earlobe in the middle of a game to force him to clean up his mess of a bedroom.
The online conversation was kept for a while longer, though not for as long as they would’ve wanted. Some were ahead, and some were behind, from Japan to Samoa to Cuba to New York and finally, to the Mediterranean Italy. As for Pidge, it should be around lunch time, and Lance and Hunk must be facing the early hours of dawn, while Keith should be getting ready to go to school. In Shiro’s case, the sky was covered in a dark blue veil, the streetlights fighting for dominion over the stars above.
“If everyone’s leaving I’ll be studying, I guess. I hate time zones…”, the Italian girl stated, aware that she’d be alone at least until Hunk or Lance woke up, in a few hours. “Catch you later, guys!”
Her connection became mute and her little avatar disappeared from the voice channel, leaving only two currently active users. Shiro took a deep breath; after hours playing with their team, they were finally alone for a little while. It had become sort of a routine that would steal some of their sleeping hours, but every single minute was worth it.
“I uh… have to leave for school soon.”, a wearied American accent erupted through the mic, followed by noises that indicated that Keith was stretching on his chair. Shiro’s heart skipped a little beat with that thought, thin lips curling up a bit at the corners as he imagined the boy’s arms reaching well above him, the chair tilting back slightly with the movement.
“You didn’t have to wake up that early just to play with us.”, Shiro began, curling the cable of his headphones around his finger. He might have said that, but he was quite glad, as he was sure the other one was.
“It wasn’t because of them. I wanted to talk to you.”
That earned him another grin, this time accompanied by the soft reddening of the tips of Shiro’s ears. Little remarks like these could easily be misunderstood as some sort of flirting.
“We have a little time to talk now. Just make sure you’re not late for class and have breakfast before you go. Don’t compromise your success in school because of your lack of proper rest and shoddy eating habits.”
“Yes, yes, dad, I know.”, Keith held back a giggle, before bringing something up, a request that had probably been rolling around in his mouth for a little too long. “Could we… do that again?”, The Japanese man rose an inquiring eyebrow, but right after remembered what his pal could mean. “I would like to see you... if that’s okay.”
They had really only shared their webcams once before, a consequence of a lost bet, but they had ended up leaving it on for the following hours. It was a more intimate way of getting to know someone that lived so far away, and to finally put a face to the voice they had been listening to for months, even a year now, felt rather satisfactory.
“Sure. But only for a bit, I’m not letting you ditch class again.”, that said, he enabled the video, a green light on his laptop catching his attention. A rectangle with his inversed face popped up on the screen, and, as response, a rectangle of an equal size appeared on the opposite corner, the image of a black-haired boy all curled up, laying sideways in bed, and holding a pillow to partially cover his face. The quality wasn’t great but the ambient light in the video was so… American. Red hues highlighted Keith’s little nose and hair, details of orange fading to yellow. So fiery. In comparison, Shiro’s room was cold, dark and purple, the white light of his screen reflecting on his tanned skin, and his exposed collarbones.
Shiro had to hold a little fuzzy gravity inside his stomach during the silence that followed. Was Keith feeling that as well? This crushing fear of saying something idiotic and ruin everything, even if he wasn’t sure what this “everything” was, just that it meant the world and was related to this boy across the world from him.
Argh. He should act like the twenty-four-year-old man he was, rather than a lovestruck teenager. It wasn’t uncomfortable to talk to Keith – quite the opposite, in fact – but it did make him think too much about what the youngster could be doing on the other side. Was he looking at him as well? If so, what was Keith thinking? Was the world suddenly so small for him too and could he imagine the scent of his clothes? The weight of his touch, the feel of his imaginary physical presence? The silence was warm, but it allowed too much self-confrontation about what they were pulling off here.
“… You’re smiling.”, Keith declared in a low voice, dragging Shiro back down from his late-night lollygagging.
“I bet you are too, behind that pillow.”
“I might be.”
“Let me see.”
There was some hesitation, but the younger one peeked further over the pillow to rest his chin on it and fully allow the Japanese man to see his features, a smile held back by his teeth sinking down on the pinkish flesh of his lower lip, cheek squishy against the pillow.
So darn cute.
“There it is.”, he pointed out, “My reason to live.”