A/N: This is probably the longest fic I've ever posted so thanks, Voltron, for that, I guess lol I blame it on the fact that writing an aftermath fic after I binge a season is just what I do now apparently.

Posting now because I don't want to know what NYCC reveals will do to this story so I'm gonna finish posting beforehand.

The meeting had been over for a while now, cut short after Keith forcibly tabled the issue. He knew he should leave as well, go find James and sort out their issues the way he'd been meaning to all day. But he found himself unable to move from his chair, the reality of the situation hitting him now that there was no one to distract him with jokes about James.

The threats the Garrison made, the aggression the Blades and Olia had shown in return, the events of the meeting kept repeating in his head as Keith stared down at his shaking hands. He was in way over his head. There was no way he could deal with this himself, especially not when his preferred solution of cutting down everything in his way would just make things worse. He needed to talk to the other Paladins, talk to Shiro, Coran, Commander Holt. He needed-

Keith looked up at the sound of Kosmo whooshing in, only to see not just his wolf - but James as well - on all fours on the other side of the room.

"This is worse than being hungover," James moaned into the floor as he dry-heaved.

Keith rushed out of his chair, vaulted over the table, and was at James's side in a second. "Are you okay?" His hand hovered inches from James's shaking back.

James looked up, furrows deepening on his brow. "Am I okay? You're the one who looks sick, and that's saying a lot when I'm the one down on my knees right now." He squinted at Keith some more. "You're not having a relapse or something, are you? I know the medics didn't want you guys taking on so much work so soon when you just got discharged."

"I'm not sick," Keith denied on auto-pilot, one hand coming up to his cheek as if he could feel whatever sickness James saw there. The other hand reached out, faltering when Keith realised he wasn't sure if James would take it.

James extended his own hand without a hint of hesitation, using Keith's support to lever himself back up. "Thanks. Does it really feel like this every time you teleport?"

Keith shrugged, trying to act cool. "You get used to it." He let go of James's hand, leaning back against the table he had just vaulted over as if he could hide his nerves. "Do I really look sick?"

"Yeah." James raised an eyebrow. "You look like shit. What happened?"

He tried to decide how to tell James about...everything, and gave up. Keith wasn't even sure which parts of it James was allowed to know, or whether he cared if he told James something he wasn't allowed to know. "A lot."

James shuffled his feet, looking uncharacteristically tentative. "Is it...is it about your confession in the interview?"

Keith gaped. "What- what confession?"

James had the gall to look at Keith like he just said something weird. "They said you confessed to me, over a live interview, broadcast to most of the known universe." James's face fell slack with horrified realisation. "Were they just fucking with me?"

Keith could feel a blush creeping up his neck. "It wasn't a confession. I wouldn't do that to you." He licked his lips; now was the time, he had been trying to create this moment all day. "If I was to confess to you, it'd be to your face, in private, with just the two of us."

James looked at him consideringly. He made a show of glancing around them, stopping on the bad boy who is getting a real talking to after this is all over, before turning back to Keith. "So are we alone enough for you now?"

Keith made a shooing gesture, not taking his eyes off James. There was a whine that was completely and utterly deserved, and then the whoosh that said they were now alone for good. "Yeah."

"Actually," James cut in, still looking tentative, "there's something I want to say first."

Keith let his mouth snap shut, sending James a look that he hoped conveyed the message that Keith was waiting but he needed to hurry up and get on with it.

"I just want you to know…" James faltered, gaze falling away to the floor. "I never apologised. About that time when we were kids and I mouthed off at you about your parents."

Keith waited a moment. There was no way that could be it. But James didn't say anything more. "That's it? That's what you interrupted me for? That's all you wanted to say?"

"It's been eating at me!" James said, gesturing dramatically. "You were going to be expelled! I didn't want you expelled. Not when I was the one in the wrong." His eyes stared beseechingly at Keith. This was not the conversation Keith was expecting them to have when the conversation started. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you should have disobeyed orders or punched me, but I shouldn't have brought up your parents no matter how frustrating you were. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, I guess," Keith mumbled, feeling wrongfooted. He couldn't believe Hunk had been right all along. "What kind of mood is this? How am I supposed to confess to you now?"

James leaned forward, right into Keith's personal space. "I'll do it for you. As thanks for accepting my apology." He stopped just inches from Keith's face. "I'm in love with you, Keith. Since before you got expelled for real. You always flew the fastest, burned the brightest...you were the best. You still are the best pilot, and now you have a giant robot to prove it. Even when we were kids, I couldn't help noticing you. Maybe I was in love with you even then."

What could Keith say to that? He leaned forward too, pulling down on James's collar and pressing his mouth to James's in a bruising kiss that would hopefully convey everything Keith wanted to say to him. "You were such a little shit back then. Always picking on me, riling me up. And then I come back and you're all grown up, and a good leader, and...you helped us find Hunk's family when you didn't have to. You could have alerted the Garrison, but you went against orders to smuggle us out."

James was blushing heavily by this point. He waited for Keith to finish, then pushed Keith's face into his chest as if to stop him from saying anything more. "You don't seem to have any trouble confessing to me, you liar," he mumbled into Keith's hair.

Keith took a quiet breath buried in the warm crevasses of James's shirt. He could smell the Garrison regulation shampoo and cologne James must have used - because of course James used the Garrison regulation shampoo and cologne. He was probably the only person Keith knew who did. He tightened his hands on James's collar, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "You did it first."

James gave him a crooked smile, visibly buoyed up again. "Guess I did." With renewed confidence, he brought his head in for another kiss, and slid a warm hand along Keith's ribs, dangerously close to his belt buckle.

Keith didn't even think of stopping him, burying his hands into James's hair so he could bring him back for yet another kiss, and another, and one more all the while James's clever hands undid Keith's belt and peeled back his jacket, revealing the non-regulation grey t-shirt underneath.

James had just plunged both hands under Keith's shirt, just above the boundary of his waistband when a very unwelcome whoosh filled the air and a very unwelcome weight pushed himself between the two of them, whining piteously as he pawed at Keith's boots.

"Kosmo!" Keith shouted, tearing his mouth away from James's, already missing the feeling of James's tongue in his mouth. "Bad boy! Go away!"

Kosmo whined louder, pushing his entire head into Keith's hip. But Keith was too busy taking in James's aghast expression to pay attention. "You named him Kosmo?"

"Not me!" Keith snapped defensively. "The others did that! I was going to wait for him to tell me his name."

"But you just used it," James pointed out, face still screwed up as if there was something wrong with calling him Kosmo.

Keith suddenly found himself very protective of the name, even though he hadn't liked it when Hunk suggested it. "He answers to that now. Besides, what's wrong with Kosmo?"

But James never got a chance to answer, the brisk sound of footsteps drawing closer shutting them both up. Keith looked at James, at his mussed hair where Keith had ran his hands through it, at the wrinkles in his shirt where Keith had grabbed too hard, at the bruised red of his lips where Keith had given in to the urge to nibble on them. And Keith himself didn't look any better, belt on the floor, jacket wide open, shirt rucked up to his chin. It would be all too obvious to anyone who came in what they had been doing, in a Garrison meeting room no less.

James stared back at him in a dull panic, hands twitching from his hair to Keith's shirt, not stopping long enough to put either to rights. Keith ignored his consternation, one hand latching on to James's bicep, the other gesturing for Kosmo to come closer. "Let's get out of here, boy. Where's a safe place without anyone else around?"

Finally breaking out of his stupor, James's free hand reached down to Kosmo's ruff, right next to where Keith had laid his. "To my MFE fighter, there's definitely not going to be anyone inside there."

Almost before he finished talking, Kosmo was whooshing them out of the meeting room, and Keith found himself losing his balance as the table he had been leaning against turned into the back seat of the fighter. Before he had a chance to regain his balance, James followed him down, falling on top of Keith with a pained groan. Only Kosmo escaped the crush, dancing out of the way and flopping down on the floor next to them.

"It actually isn't as bad as last time," James was saying as he opened his eyes, only to freeze as he realised that their little spill had left James sprawling over Keith with both arms braced against the headrest, trapping Keith's head between them, and one knee keeping Keith's legs spread out under him.

Considering what they had been doing just now, Keith didn't understand how James still thought this situation was worth blushing over, but he was still too caught up on what they were talking about before to remark on it. "You didn't answer, what's wrong with Kosmo?"

"Seriously? You still on about that?" James shook his head, resigned. "It's not a name I would have expected you to call him, that's all. I've known you for ten years, Keith, I know how you think, give me some credit." He cocked his head. "Except it's only seven years for you or something?"

"Not...really," Keith said reluctantly; all the weird time shit was confusing, and Keith had actually experienced it. "More like nine years for me, seven for the others. We all got caught up in the explosion that put us behind the rest of the universe by three years, but I was also in the Quantum Abyss for two years while only a few weeks or so passed for everyone else."

"So…" James's face scrunched up again. "You're one year younger than me now?"

"Pretty much." Keith shrugged. "Why? Does it make you feel bad, Mr. Cradle Robber?"

"Now you're just mocking me." James growled, sending a thrill down Keith's spine that had him rolling his hips up against James.

"What are you going to do about it?" Keith tilted his chin up, hands fisting into James's hair again to coax his head down. "Come on, I can take whatever you dish out. Trust me, it's not even going to come close to what I've had to deal with today."

But James refused to follow, stiffening at Keith's words. "What did you have to deal with today? You never answered my question. What had you looking like that?"

Keith sighed, leaning back. "Just a shitty meeting with the top brass."

"Wait," asked James nervously, "is this something I'm allowed to know?"

"You asked!" Keith snapped.

"You're right, I did." Expression firming into resolve, James looked Keith in the eyes and asked again, "So what happened?"

"The Garrison is trying to play power games," Keith said, reluctantly loosening his grip on the back of James's head, sliding down his arms until Keith was gripping lightly at James's elbows as they hovered on either side of his head.

James frowned. "They don't want to acknowledge Voltron's authority."

"Well, according to them, we're just a bunch of cadets, after all," said Keith sarcastically. "You already knew?"

"They have a habit of doing that," James admitted. "We're still cadets too. I've been reliably informed that there's no time in war to promote us properly."

"You believe that?" Keith asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you asking if I doubt my superiors?" James raised his eyebrow back. "Well, even if it is true, it is also very convenient for the Garrison to keep us all as cadets. I'm not blind, I can see the advantages it has for the Garrison, advantages that outweigh all the excuses they have to make to everyone about not promoting us."

Keith sighed again, running his hands over his face. "I should go find Shiro and the others," he mumbled into his palms. "We need to discuss this, figure out what we're going to do about it. They almost came to blows with the Blades and Olia today. It might not take much before actual fighting breaks out if everyone feels as strongly as they do." He remembered the way the Olkari had reacted. It had seemed so lighthearted then, when Keith knew James hadn't done anything to warrant it; now, the ferocity they had displayed and what it could be a harbinger of only made him worry.

"Of course they feel strongly." James took one hand off the headrest, pushing Keith's hand gently out of the way so he could lay it against Keith's cheek and smooth his thumb tenderly along one cheekbone. "You're Voltron, our saviour. There are plenty of people in the Garrison who'll fight for your honour. Not just your Coalition."

"You MFE pilots are pretty heroic too," Keith murmured, other hand dropping from his face as well so he could smooth both of them down James's chest. "You deserve more than being stuck as a cadet because it suits the Garrison to keep you under their thumb."

"Don't talk about the Garrison like that," James said, but his heart wasn't in it, lowering his face so he could press a kiss against the cheek he had been stroking.

Keith turned his head away, face twisted into a regretful frown, the kiss falling against his scar instead. "I mean it. I should go. We need to talk about this; it's important."

James gave him a considering look, bringing his hand back to Keith's cheek; this time to trace the bags under his eyes. "The Garrison isn't going to do anything right this moment. You should rest. Stay here, just a bit longer."

Keith huffed a short laugh against his mouth. "I can't believe you are telling me to skip out on my responsibilities."

"You mentioned it yourself," James pointed out, pausing to press a kiss to Keith's lips. "I helped you guys to get to the Galra work camp against orders. Because Hunk needed that. And you need this. Not necessarily with me here, but you need to rest. Stop forcing yourself to be the leader for a moment, and take a break from that responsibility." He paused again, bestowing another kiss to Keith's lips. "As one leader to another, trust me when I say it'll be okay, trust your teammates that even if something does come up they can deal with it. The world isn't going to fall into chaos just because you took a break. And no one who matters is going to fault you for not being there every single moment of the day." Another pause, another kiss that made Keith's toes curl. "Don't think I haven't noticed you rushing around trying to do everything. It's okay if you don't."

Keith looked at him, eyes lidded and dark with promise. "Yeah, you really have grown up."

James stared at him, cogs turning visibly. The smile on his face grew, turning cocky in a way that rang alarm bells in Keith's head. "Wanna see where else I've grown up?"

"That's a terrible line," said Keith flatly. "What happened to the pure little boy who didn't know what innuendo meant?"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you," James groused. "I was a grade schooler, come on. Like you said, I've grown up."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Don't think that works on me." But he pressed his body closer, his legs slotting around James suggestively, at odds with the way he brushed his thumb gently under James's eye in return. "Alright. I'll stay. Just a little longer."

"Good," James said fiercely, pressing his mouth firmly to Keith's and licking his way inside. His hands dove back under Keith's shirt, pressing against the warm skin there and plastering Keith to his front.

Just as James was about to push a hand down his pants, Keith pulled away, flattening a hand on James's chest to make him wait. Pointing off to the side, Keith snapped his fingers briskly and said, "Out."

There was a short whine that made James look like he only just remembered Kosmo was still in here with them, then the whoosh that told them they were finally alone in the cockpit.

"Now, where were we?" Keith grinned up impishly, his own hands landing on James's belt and making short work of them.

James blinked back, body tense under Keith's fingers until he finally processed what just happened and relaxed against Keith's hands. He knocked his forehead lightly against Keith's, smiling down soppily. "You should smile more. You look good like that. You should always look like that."

"Like what?" Keith asked, uncomfortable with the sappy turn, hands stilling where they had been pushing James's pants off his hips.

"Like you're happy," James whispered, as if he was telling him a secret. "You should always look happy. Let me make you happy, Keith."

"Okay," Keith couldn't help but whisper back, eyes falling shut as James leaned in for another kiss. "I'll hold you to that."

A/N: Meanwhile Kosmo lies down on the ground right next to James's MFE fighter because he is a Good Boy, alerting everyone to just where James and Keith had disappeared to, without Keith's belt which had been left lying on the floor of the meeting room...

In the sequel that will probably never be written, Keith and James do become distracted with their new relationship and the Garrison does try to use their relationship for a PR boost...in a disastrous way that forces tensions to boil over. What Voltron and the Atlas should be doing is investigating the Altean recently found inside the creature they defeated, but they're too busy trying to keep everyone from fighting each other and feeling guilty over their part in instigating it instead. Meanwhile, Haggar is finally ready to make her move and our heroes are more divided than ever *insert dun dun dun*