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i killed sendak for this

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“I’m married?” Keith blinks. “I’m married to you?”

His husband laughs. It’s a low, happy sound. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile wide and toothy, pulling at the scar on his eyebrow and holy god who did Keith kill to have all this?

He would kill them again, just as an additional thank you.

“Yup.” His husband sits on the edge of the meeting table, by Keith’s right elbow. “Did the team forget to tell you that?”

“Uh.” Keith gapes up at him from his seat. “If they did, it got buried under the intergalactic space war infodump.”

His husband winces. “Yeah, that can’t have been easy to deal with. Would’ve expected them to have done it in small doses, at least.”

“They tried,” says Keith. “I ordered them to tell me everything.”

“Wow, stepped right into the leader thing, huh?” His husband grins. “That’s my man.”

“I’m.” Keith stops. Casts about for something to say. “Uh. You, uh, what…how old are you, again?”

“Same age as you, baby,” his husband says, easy as anything, as if the endearment didn’t make Keith blush so hard so fast he’s gone dizzy. “What d’you think? Am I all you imagined whenever you thought about domestic bliss? If you can remember thinking about that?”

His husband’s wearing that standard paladin getup. But he’s pulled his chestplate off at some point, leaving him mostly in a skin-tight black suit with the leg armor. He’s rolled up the sleeves and Keith drinks in the sight of his tanned skin and his toned arms, crossed over his also toned chest. His hair is unkempt, wind-kissed, and it’s buzzed on one side. Keith’s attention is drawn to his neck, the tendons lying under the skin. His shoulders are broad and the way his spine curves, languid—if Keith tilts his head, he can see the line of his husband’s spine through the suit, and that should not be insanely hot, but somehow? It really is.

“You—” He coughs. “You’re alright. I guess.”

His husband looks amused. “I’ll take it. That’s practically an endorsement, coming from you.”

“Am I not the type to compliment much?”

“No, but that’s what makes you charming. Plus, I’ve become fluent in Keith-speak.” His husband grins.

“How did we…?” Keith gestures, finding himself incredibly flustered.

“Meet? Get together? Tie the knot? Take your pick.”

“All three.”

His husband huffs at that, like something about Keith has him feeling fond. “Well, we met pretty terribly. It was hate on sight.”

Keith is taken aback. “Whoa, really?”

“Mhm.” His husband cocks his head. “I admit, on my part, I was just mad because you were smart and pretty and I didn’t know how to deal with it then, so it was just a lot of mullet-pulling until Hunk locked us in an elevator and cut the power. Don’t know how it was for you.”

Keith doesn’t know where to start with all that. He goes with, “Mullet-pulling?”

“You had a mullet,” his husband supplies. “It was disgustingly perfect on you. Not that what you’ve got now doesn’t do it for me, too.”

He tucks a strand of Keith’s hair behind his ear. The rest is in a loose braid. Keith immediately puts a stop to the train of thought that wonders why long hair ‘does it’ for his husband.

Probably for him to pull on when they have—

“So we got together when—Hunk?—locked us in an elevator?” Keith says, loud and telling, judging by the sly smile on his husband’s face.

“He said he got tired of the sexual tension. Apparently, it ‘only got worse—’” his husband uses air quotes, that is so astoundingly cute— “after you stepped up as the leader and I as your right hand. He ‘couldn’t handle it,’” his husband mocks. So cute.

“Did his plan work?”

“No, we just crawled up to a maintenance hatch and escaped.”

“We sound badass,” Keith comments, eyebrow raised.

His husband grins. “To be fair, we’ve pulled that stunt off once before, so it was a cakewalk that time around. No slipping, and we were fully clothed.”

Keith’s eyebrows inch higher.

“Long story; I’ll tell you later.” His husband winks. Fucking winks, and it doesn’t look stupid at all. “Hunk was upset it didn’t work, but honestly, what did he think was going to happen when he trapped two soldiers, fresh off the battlefield, in an enclosed space?”

“Yeah, I don’t see how that would end well.”

“Exactly. We thought there was an attack on the Garrison.” His husband shoots him an amused look. “You were particularly irritated when we dropped out of the ceiling to find the team and a bunch of random people grouped around the elevator and taking bets.”

“That doesn’t seem very professional.”

His husband points at him. “That. That face right there, times a thousand. It was the only time I’ve ever seen both cadets and commanders quail like that, besides the time when Sendak attacked Earth.”

“Definitely badass,” Keith concludes, smug.

His husband throws his head back and laughs. Keith eyes the column of his throat hungrily.

“When did we get married?” he asks, once his husband wipes away the last laughter-induced tear.

His husband hums, thoughtful. He gets a distant look in his eyes. “Well, after Hunk’s failed attempt, we did decide to go out, but we kept it secret, you know?”

“To get back at them.”

“Exactly.” His husband smirks, pleased that Keith caught on. Keith tries not to preen too much. “Man, when we told them we were getting married—the look on their faces was so worth those two years sneaking around.”

“It took me two years—on top of fighting a literal space war with you—to decide to marry you?” Keith frowns. “That’s way too long. I don’t have my memories right now, and I definitely know I’d marry you. If we weren’t already, I mean.”

His husband’s lips part in surprise. For the first time in this conversation, he’s the flustered one. “Oh. Uh, well. Jeez, babe, way to make a guy swoon.”

Keith shrugs, a little shy (but a lot more satisfied).

His husband slides his fingers through his hair. He clears his throat. “But I think the two years was because we still needed to help the entire universe settle down.”

“Makes sense. How’d we do it—getting hitched?”

“You’re still so romantic,” his husband says dryly. He chuckles. “Actually, you really were. We did it here, because you wanted to make sure my entire extended family was there to see. Our off-world friends came though. You got Plaxum a specialized seating tank, and you were so attentive to everything my mom and dad suggested or asked for. You took Marco to get fitted for a tux even though he’s a grown man and he shouldn’t be afraid of a tailor. You let Nadia wear her favourite superhero t-shirt over her flower girl dress. You even let her throw flower petals at everyone while saying ‘yeet.’ ‘As long as you whisper,’ you told her.”

“I don’t know what yeet means,” Keith says seriously.

“You didn’t then either,” his husband laughs. He shakes his head. “But you loved her. You loved my family, my friends, and you did everything you could to make that day one of the happiest days of my life.”

“Whoa.” Keith’s kind of in awe of himself. Go, non-amnesiac Keith.

“Yeah.” His husband sighs. “You completely redefined what romance means to me.”

“…Why do you sound upset about that?”

“Because you just had to one-up me; flowers and chocolate weren’t going to cut it anymore. You do this all the time and it’s still infuriating, even if it’s hot now, too.”

Keith blushes. “So…I make you happy then?”

His husband give him a speculative look. And then he ducks down and murmurs, right up against Keith’s ear, “Keith, baby, you make me wild with joy, every day of my life.”

“Okay,” Keith squeaks.

Don’t jump him, don’t jump him, you can’t jump a strange man even if he’s married to you and you’ve probably most likely already had sex with him multiple times in multiple ways—wait, then what’s stopping me?

Blessedly (or not, depending), his husband moves away, grinning when Keith mindlessly follows. He touches Keith’s hair again, his hand moving around to cradle the crown of Keith’s head, so fucking gentle.

“Your head’s okay?” his husband asks. “The doctors said your memories should be back soon enough.”

“Just feels bruised a little,” Keith admits, leaning into the touch. “But no headaches or anything. Is that why you weren’t at the debriefing? You were in the medbay?”

“Actually, no. I was held up because of a hostage situation on Pxyr,” his husband says.

Keith jerks to his feet. “What?”

His husband sighs. “Yeah, sorry about that. I would’ve gone to see you first, but the medbay was on my way and the team had already reassured me a hundred times that you were fine on the flight back. I thought I’d check in with the doctors before heading here.”

“No, that’s not—is everyone okay? Are you?” Keith steps in front of his husband and grips him by the elbows. He scans for injuries. “What happened?”

His husband stares at him. A smile slides onto his lips, slow and wondering. “Oh my god, even without memories you’re a sap.”

Keith flushes and drops his hands. He mutters, plaintively, “You can’t just say ‘hostage situation’ and not expect people to be concerned.”

“I’m perfectly okay, babe, and so is everyone on Pxyr. I had it handled.”

And then—

And then his husband leans in, and brushes a kiss across Keith’s mouth.

“Um,” says Keith. “Uh, you—uh.”

“God, you’re adorable,” his husband mumbles. He hooks a finger into the belt loops of Keith’s civvies and tugs.

Keith ends up with a leg between his husband’s and his hands on the table, bracketing his husband’s hips. He swallows.

“So listen,” says the hottest fucking husband ever, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I just got back from the longest assignment ever and I haven’t seen you in months. You know what that means?”

“What?” Keith croaks.

“Well, for one thing…” His husband kisses him again. Keith whimpers into it. “I really missed you, baby.”

“Missed you too,” Keith rasps.

“You don’t even remember me,” his husband says, but Keith can tell he’s pleased. “But I was thinking—and you know, you might have forgotten literally everything—but I really want to take you out for ice cream.”

“Ice cream? They have that around here?”

“Not here, no, it’s the middle of nowhere. We’ll take Red out into the city. There’s a new shop that opened up while I was gone. You told me you’d take me when I got back.”

“And I should keep my word, shouldn’t I,” Keith mumbles, eyes fixed to that mouth, wondering how it’d look wet with vanilla. How it’d taste. (Better than vanilla, for sure.)

“You should,” his husband agrees. “It’d make me happy.”


“Mhm.” And here his husband smiles, small and secretive. “And also, I was also thinking that later? I could teach you again how to make me really, really happy. What do you say?”

Keith—shuts down. Blue screen, send diagnostic reports to God, this needs a hard reboot type of thing.

“Hhh,” he says.

“Great!” his husband chirps.

And then he grabs Keith’s hand and laces them together as he drags Keith through the Garrison and out into a strange, strange world—where Keith is twenty-eight, a legendary defender of the universe, and married.

To the most gorgeous and extraordinary human ever, apparently.





















(“Sendak,” Keith gasps, in the middle of the night, in bed with Lance McClain who is his husband of one year and partner for six, for seemingly no reason whatsoever.

There’s a long, pregnant pause, and then Lance says, sleep-dazed, “Do I want to know why you said the name of one of our worst enemies while in bed with me?”

“That’s who I killed,” Keith says wonderingly, as if that explains literally anything.

“Okay,” says Lance, and he rolls off Keith’s chest. “Up you get. Someone needs his brain scanned again.”)