Sir. I fucking called the guy “sir.” What the fuck is wrong with me, what the fuck-?
“Matt?”
Immediately standing at attention, Matt felt his breath catch as he processed the voice speaking. “Shiro. Hey,” he said, relaxing his stance. Shiro raised an eyebrow at him, not completely certain as to why Matt was pacing outside his door. “Can I… come in?”
“Sure,” he answered, stepping to one side.
Matt walked into the room, unsurprised to see it completely blank and clean unlike his sister’s who had created something right out of Hoarders. The only thing that showed someone lived in the empty room was the unmade bed. Matt smiled as he recalled the way Shiro tended to move in his sleep. It used to wake him up when they had to bunk together during Kerberos.
Back when he had black hair, and his face was unmarred, and his body was completely his own.
“You’ve come a long way,” Shiro said, breaking the silence.
“You mean from nearly pissing myself at the idea of a fight?” he answered. He walked to the bed, sitting on the edge, eyes on his own feet. “That’s the last time I saw you, you know? I mean, of course you know, but…. It’s just weird to remember.”
“Yeah…. We’re both plenty different, huh?”
Matt looked up and saw Shiro standing in the same spot near the door. He hadn’t moved. His Galra arm behind his back. He bit his lip and looked him in the eyes. “You don’t have to be so formal,” Matt said.
“I’m not the one who greeted you with ‘sir’ and a handshake,” he answered. There was a smile on his face, but his voice was soft and serious.
Matt grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was in shock. I hadn’t seen you in a long time.”
He heard Shiro scoff. “Yeah. Not to mention the arm.” When he looked up again, Shiro was looking away, almost in shame. Matt stood up and walked toward him, making Shiro tense. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still,” Matt ordered. He liked to think that the gruffness he’d accumulated from his time with the rebels shocked Shiro into obeying. But he also liked the idea of Shiro listening because he cared. Whatever the case, Matt moved nearer, taking Shiro metal hand in his and pulling it from his back.
He kept his eyes locked with Shiro’s until the metal arm was between them. Matt looked down and inspected it. Every line of the metals, every screw, the scrapes and scratches from use, the occasional black metal used at joints for flexibility. All the way up to where it ended at the middle of his bicep.
He moved his fingers from the metal to the warm skin and heard Shiro take a sharp breath, his body jerking away slightly.
“Hey, hold still, remember?” Matt chided playfully.
He let his fingers run lightly over the muscle, over his shoulder, down his collarbone. He was aware and pleased with the way Shiro’s breaths seemed to quicken as his fingers grazed him. He let his hand trail up his neck and along his jaw, over his cheekbones until he reached the beginning of the scar. Had it been a half inch higher, and he could’ve gone blind.
“What did they do to you?” he whispered.
Shiro’s mouth parted and warm breath his Matt’s palm as he moved his fingers along the scar. “They tested my limits,” he answered softly. Matt frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
Matt hummed, bring his fingers down to trace Shiro’s lips. He shook his head and bit his own lip. “You’re still Shiro. The arm threw me off a bit…. I recognized the tech and my first instinct was to be wary. But you’re still you. I have nothing to be afraid of.” He met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”
Shiro looked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips beneath his fingers. “No, sir.”
Matt rolled his eyes and took both of Shiro’s hands in his. “You can move now… but only if you’re moving to kiss me.”
“About time we get a proper reunion,” Shiro answered with a smile, this one reaching his eyes. Matt smiled widely and shut his eyes as Shiro leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
It had been so long since Matt last felt this.