Shadam: How it should have begun.

This fanfic takes place after Season 7, and ignores the extremely unjust events of Season 8 of Voltron: Legendary Defender.

I like to listen to songs with romantic writings. This piece’s song is Donna Lewis’ “Lights of Life.”

In my headcannon, Shiro gets back to Earth and heads to Adam’s apartment, because he survived the stupid mission…..

Shiro faced the grey door, swallowing nervously, clutching the bouquet of flowers tight. He’s never nervous. But … it’s Adam. And here, at the apartment where they lived together, he’s not Shiro, the Black Paladin of Voltron, Defender of the Universe, Captain of the Atlas.

Here, where he studied, trained, lived, and loved with Adam, he’s Takashi. The man who left to prove to himself that he wasn’t useless. Selfish. Foolish. Stupid.

But he wouldn’t take it back. Because now I’m whole for you, Adam. Now, I can give you everything you deserve. If you’ll let me.

Takashi clenched his robotic hand, and then knocked. A moment passed.

“Who is it?” Even with the distortion of the intercom, Adam’s voice affected him—another phantom limb.

“T-Takashi Shirogane,” he stuttered.

The door flung open.

“Takashi?!” Amber eyes behind octangular frames, disheveled hair. The grading pen he’d held fell to the floor when their eyes met. The flowers fell, too, forgotten. “Takashi?”

“Adam?” He was going to blubber. He tried to fight through it. “Can I talk—”

And Adam was holding him again. He fit right where he always had. Though it was new, his robotic arm found a home as well, cradling Adam’s back.

“Takashi….” Forehead resting on his shoulder, Adam growled, “Get in here, you idiot,” then pulled him in and slammed the door, pushing him against the wall and leaned in.

Quiznak, he’s going to kiss me.

“Adam, wait!” Shiro pushed Adam away, gently but firm.

“What? Why? Is there someone—”

“No! Quiznak, Adam. Let me apologize!” He pushed Adam further away with his extending arm, far enough away they couldn’t touch.

Adam gave him a leveling glare. “Gladly.” Though Shiro saw the mirth beneath it. Quiznak, that smile.

“I didn’t listen; I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Adam. But,” he held up his phantom arm, “now I’m healed.”

Silence. Adam’s glare. Shiro dropped his gaze, turned to leave.

“Good. Next time, take me with you, idiot.”

Next time. That phrase held all he needed to hear. Another chance, another life. “Adam,” Shiro spun back, wrenched Adam back, crushing them both into the wall. Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, mouth to aching, longing mouth.

“Be my navigator on the Atlas,” Shiro whispered between gasps into Adam’s neck.

“Yes.” Adam tasted just like he remembered. Bitter coffee, and the sweetness of sunshine, cut with sarcasm.

“Marry me when this is done?”

That got Adam to push him away, sardonic grin on his used lips. “Takashi… I thought you’d never wise up.”

“Who says I have?” Shiro leaned in again and kissed him, finally, finally home.