#keith's own attempts at keeping up with Shiro were... spotty at best

[discordiansamba]

Keith's father died when he was eight.

It became quickly apparent that none of his father's extended family wanted anything to do with him. Nobody ever said it to his face, but he definitely heard the whispers- he'd always had sharp ears.

They said he wasn't his father's son.

That had to be a lie, Keith knew. His dad loved him. Even when he got into a fight with another kid at school, he'd always just calmly listen to him. He got mad at him sometimes- like when he touched his mom's knife without permission, but that was just because he was worried he'd hurt himself. He could talk to him about anything, and at least with his dad, he wasn't the weird kid who kept breaking things.

Then his dad was gone, and that was all anyone ever believed about him. That he was weird- temperamental and aggressive, too prone to violence, like his fight or flight response was just a fight response. He was the discipline case. The problem child. No one expected him to be anything else, so he didn't try to be.

He met Takashi Shirogane at ten.

He was like him- a foster kid. But unlike Keith, people wanted Shiro. He felt like everything Keith wasn't- good natured and easy to get along with, bright with a promising future. They ended up in the same foster home together, and the difference between the two couldn't be clearer.

But for whatever reason, Shiro didn't see Keith the way everyone else saw him. He saw him more like his father had. He paid attention to him, often standing up for him- when he talked, Shiro would listen. He didn't care for his foster parents much, but Shiro... Shiro felt like a brother, almost.

But nothing good lasted forever. Shiro aged out of the system and went off to college, studying to be a pilot. Keith was left behind. He stuck it out for another few years, until he turned fifteen and just left. He found his way back to his old home, still standing out in the desert. He hung around there for a few weeks, before stumbling across something unexpected-

-a photograph of his mother.

He knew it had to be. She looked almost exactly like him. On the back of the photo there was a name and an address, written in unfamiliar hand. It was the first lead he'd had on her in years.

So what else could he do but go check it out?

[beautifulspacegays]

Cinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea

Lance owns a cute marketplace bakery, and Shiro tries his damn best to make sure his delinquent brother knows about it. Alternative Title: Shiro is the ultimate wingman and Keith has a gay crisis.

Lance

Out of all the regular customers that frequented his bakery, Lance hadn’t met one as peculiar as the man he’d come to know as Shiro.

There was the little old lady who always visited early in the morning for a fresh croissant, often keeping him company with an endless stream of chatter as he opened. The owner of the deli across the indoor marketplace always appeared around lunch to order whatever Lance had on special, whether it be something simple or a new recipe Lance had been experimenting with. The small, single person table in the back corner of the store was almost always occupied by the same local college student, who’d sit for hours and hours typing away and ordering nothing but black coffee. Before his exams, Lance had slipped him a donut for good luck. He’d passed with flying colours.

But Shiro was different. Lance had first seen him about a month ago, and was instantly struck by his appearance. He was tall and muscular with a strong jaw and rough features. Most noticeably, his arms were ravaged with several large scars that had healed white and jagged in long strokes. Most of the indoor market’s customers were fairly average and local, and to be frank, Shiro looked like he was from another world. It wasn’t only his appearance that Lance noticed as out of the ordinary, but his behaviour as well. After his first visit, Shiro began to stop by several times a week. Unlike Lance’s usual regulars who visited routinely and in predictable intervals, Shiro came sporadically. Sometimes he’d rush through the door just as Lance opened, and others he’d catch him just before he was about to close up for the day. Regardless of when he came in, he always ordered the same thing: a toasted cinnamon bagel, one half covered in cream cheese and the other in butter, and a medium peppermint tea. He never once saw Shiro eat it.

“The usual?” The door of the bakery opened with the soft tinkling of a bell, Lance spying the familiar face from the corner of his eye. It was about a half-hour to close and, with the amount of customers quickly thinning, he’d recently began cleaning up shop.

“Yes, thank you.” By now, he was used to Shiro’s voice. It was always soft and polite, although it had a certain ring of authority to it. Somehow, it always managed to sound reassuring. Lance set down the cloth he’d been using to wipe the counters and began prepping his order.

“You ever going to get tired of eating the same thing?” Lance hummed, looking up from his quick work to raise a single brow in Shiro’s direction.

“Oh no, definitely not. He’s been eating the same thing since he was 6.” He chuckled and leaned one hip against the bakery counter separating him and Lance, a fondness creeping into his expression and softening his features.

“He?” Lance’s curiosity piqued. They’d had several conversations about Lance himself, mostly about the bakery, but he’d never once heard Shiro offer up a piece of information about himself.

“Oh!” He brought a fist up to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle another laugh. “I haven’t mentioned him yet. All of these orders have been for my brother, Keith.”

“Hmm.” Lance contemplated for a moment, spreading cream cheese over the top portion of the bagel. “Is he part of the reason you decided to move out here?”

“Yes, actually.” Shiro settled once again against the counter, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “After I told him about my job offer in the city, he jumped at the chance to come with me. He just finished art school, I think he’s looking for more opportunities.” Lance finished packing up his order, handing him the usual neatly wrapped bagel and steaming cup of tea.

“That’s nice.” A warm, genuine smile spread across Lance’s face, revealing two small dimples. “Family should stick together.” Shiro had hit his soft spot; family had always been important to him, and he couldn’t control the fondness from creeping into his expression at the mention of it. Shiro beamed, returning his smile with one of his own, big and excited and slightly… mischievous? Before Lance could process his reaction, Shiro had already placed money in his palm.

“Keep the change!” Shiro called from behind his back, quickly leaving the store with a skip in his step and a bemused Lance in his wake.

Keith

The first time Shiro brought him a cinnamon bagel from Lance’s bakery, Keith was lying on the floor of their new apartment surrounded by unpacked boxes and crumpled newspaper.

He continued to lay motionless as he heard Shiro’s footsteps approaching their unit from the outside hallway. He didn’t stir when he heard the click of the door unlocking, or when Shiro walked inside. It was only when Shiro nonchalantly tossed a warm package across the room, landing on top of his stomach and square above his bellybutton, that Keith turned his head to look at his brother.

“Breakfast.” Shiro shrugged, responding to Keith’s raised brow. “I also brought you some tea.” He watched as Shiro weaved through the maze of piled boxes the movers had carelessly placed, easily reaching the kitchen counter and setting down the steaming cup. Being a firefighter had its perks, one of them being the ability to move and coordinate a large, muscled body with inhuman grace. “You’re lucky that I remember to feed you, or else you’d starve.”

Keith huffed, sitting up slowly with a long, drawn out breath. He stretched his arms up high above his head, letting the paper bag roll down his stomach and fall into his lap as he straightened. He flinched as a strip of unexpected morning sunlight caught his eye, vision turning spotty. They’d both spent the entire night unpacking, but only Shiro had managed to keep track of the time. How Shiro was always able to remain awake and aware was beyond Keith, and he’d stopped trying to understand his brother’s innate and God-like ability to completely Have His Shit Together™ long ago. Which is why he didn’t question him any further as he reached for the package in his lap, heavy lidded and in a sleep deprived haze. He shivered as he took the paper bag in his hands, its absence leaving his lap feeling empty and cold. With clumsy fingers he unwrapped his breakfast, and without pausing to question what it might be, took his first bite. Immediately, his eyes fluttered wide. A warm flush of pleasure crept up his neck and warmed his cheeks as he began to chew.

“Oho,” Shiro cooed from across the room “Looks like Mr. Picky actually likes his breakfast.” Keith scoffed, crumpling up the bagel wrappings and launching them across the room. His aim was perfect, but so was his brother’s ability to dodge. Shiro side stepped the throw and caught the empty package with ease, shooting Keith a cocky grin that he returned with a scowl. Shiro answered with a light-hearted laugh, grabbing Keith’s tea and heading over to join him at his makeshift newspaper picnic.

The second time Shiro brought him a bagel, he set it down next to him without a word. The small action startled him, tearing him away from his work and bringing him sharply back to reality. It took Keith a moment to adjust, vision blurry from staring for too long at his laptop.

“You haven’t eaten yet today.” Shiro stated, matter of fact.

“I…what?” Half of Keith’s focus was still swimming in the colours and swirls on his computer screen, hands still poised to draw. He’d spent the entirety of the day working on overdue art commissions, completely sinking into his work and losing track of time. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to adjust to his surroundings. The sun, which had been high above the horizon when Keith had started work, was now setting, painting the room with vibrant pinks and reds. He slowly came back into his body, the hunger that was once distant now clawing at his stomach, desperate in its chance to finally be heard. Keith turned his attention to his desk, eyes travelling to where Shiro had set down a small, familiar brown package and peppermint tea. “Oh,” he stammered, the full reality of the situation finally hitting him “Thanks man.” They let the silence grow for a few moments, Keith taking the opportunity to unwrap his food.

“His name is Lance.” Shiro finally spoke, leaning against the side of Keith’s desk as he did. Keith paused, bagel in hand, mouth gaping around the ghost of what was going to be his first bite.

“What?” He spoke after a few moments, drawing out the silence. He must have looked completely bewildered, as his expression had Shiro laughing within seconds.

“The owner of the bakery.” He said, smile still etching his features. Keith blinked twice, utterly lost. Shiro held in his laugh this time, eyes travelling to the bagel and back to meet Keith’s. “Where I keep getting the bagels, Keith. Jesus.” Keith’s expression quickly turned skeptical, questioning. He let his eyes linger on his brother for as long as his hunger let him, but it was only a matter of moments before he shifted his gaze and took his first bite. He was immediately contented as the warm pastry settled on his tongue. He could feel Shiro’s eyes on him as he chewed. “First man I know who’s been able to win over your taste buds on the first go.”

“I’m not that bad!” Keith snapped, forgetting that his mouth was full, words cascading out sharp and messy. A blush quickly spread from his neck to the tips of his ears and he shot up a hand to cover his mouth. He refused to look at Shiro, who kept his eyes trained on him and watched in quiet amusement. Mouth still covered, he took a few moments to chew and swallow properly. Afterwards, blush still bright and patchy, he cleared his throat. “I mean… I’m not that picky.”

“Whatever you say.” Shiro straightened, deciding to let Keith eat and resume work in peace. “All I know is that I’m grateful to the man, he’s making my life a lot easier.”

This time, the crumpled bagel package caught Shiro on the side of the head as he turned to leave the room.

Every time Shiro brought him a bagel thereafter, it came with new information about Lance.

The third time, after Shiro had placed the bagel directly on top of Keith’s keyboard, he’d said: “Lance looks like he’s about your age.” When Keith responded with a gruff “What does that have to do with anything?” he’d simply shrugged, turning out of the room with a casual “Oh nothing, just an observation.”

The fourth time, he learned about Lance’s business. “He took the business over from his father, isn’t that interesting?” Shiro spoke from where he sat next to him on the couch. He’d just returned from picking Keith up his now go to meal, and was binging on some Chinese takeout himself.

“Mhm,” Keith hummed, mouth full and attention glued to the TV in front of them, buzzing with the evening’s news. He felt an elbow dig into his side, quick and abrupt, causing him to choke on a piece of bagel.

“Runs the whole place by himself. Seems like he’s doing pretty well.” Shiro continued a little too casually, prodding the contents of his takeout container with his chopsticks as though he hadn’t just elbowed Keith in the ribs.

“Shiro, why do you keep telling me all of this stuff about that baker? Last time I checked, you and Allura were in a long-distance relationship.” He drew out the last word for emphasis, knitting his eyebrows in frustration as he looked over at his brother.

“Yes, and a happy one at that.” Shiro continued to prod at his food, withholding eye contact. “Also, his name is Lance.”

“Alright. Why do you keep telling me all of this stuff about Lance, then?” He huffed in frustration, the conversation beginning to feel like pulling teeth. Shiro looked up at the mention of Lance’s name, a coy smile playing at his lips as he popped a piece of broccoli into his mouth. Keith stared, utterly lost.

“Just seems like an interesting guy is all.” He ate with a cheeriness Keith couldn’t place, like he was up to something. But for the life of him Keith couldn’t figure out what it was, and he had his upcoming commissions to focus on, so he let it go and continued to eat. If he had to listen about Lance in order to keep eating his bagels, he resigned, it was a small price to pay.

Keith leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers and stretching his arms far behind his head. He proceeded to rub his eyes, which were, again, overworked and tired from the strain of looking at a computer screen all day. He’d finally finished his work, and as usual, was having trouble adjusting to the reality that now surrounded him. The sun was almost below the horizon, the only light that remained in the sky burning like an ember about to go out. He didn’t know exactly how long he’d been working, but he did know that when he sat down to start, it was just after lunch. He put a palm to the back of his neck, stretching his muscles and cracking his tired bones. Now that his focus was shifted away from his work, his stomach had turned indignant, nagging and nagging to be obliged. He sighed, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.

Keith: Where are you? 6:47p.m.

Shiro: Still at work, what’s up? 6:51p.m.

Keith: Can you bring your favourite brother a bagel on your way home? Haven’t eaten since lunch… 6:52p.m.

Shiro: Won’t be home for another hour or two, you’re on your own kid 7:00p.m.

Shiro: Also… you gotta start taking better care of yourself 7:00p.m.

Keith: I know I know 7:02p.m.

Keith: I don’t know where the place is tho… 7:03p.m.

Shiro: It’s in the indoor marketplace about a block away on 5th, fourth store to the right. Can’t miss it – but hurry, he closes at 8 7:05p.m.

Keith: I can’t believe you’re making me go outside 7:06:p.m.

Shiro: Tell Lance I said hi ;) 7:14p.m.

Keith had been in an art haze for days. He’d been able to take complete advantage of it, as Shiro was usually home early, but they were starting to trust him more at his new job, which incidentally meant more work and longer hours. He shuffled around his room in the dark, spying a bright red hoodie among the wreckage that was his bedroom floor. He sniffed it quickly, deemed it okay, and threw it on over his t-shirt. He tied his hair into a messy bun, swapped his pajama pants for a pair of dark jeans, and grabbed his leather jacket, keys, and wallet before heading out the door. He was a bit of a mess, the bun being a necessity to contain his second day hair, and his clothes wrinkled and disheveled after having spent God knows how long crumpled on his floor. His skin was pale from lack of sunlight and his eyes were heavy lidded and tired, but, he thought casually, swinging his keys on one finger and walking out onto the street, it’s not like he had anyone to impress around here anyway.

The Meeting: Keith

It was a little before quarter to 8 when Keith finally made it to the bakery. He opened the door to the subtle chiming of a bell, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty room. The place was small, but it was clean and nicely decorated. The shop consisted of a large counter and display case, which housed an assortment of equipment and a large chalkboard menu from behind, and a few quaint tables to eat at. However, his attention was instantly drawn to the walls that were painted a nice, airy blue. The bakery was warm in comparison to the crisp fall air outside, and yet being surrounded by such a soft blue reminded Keith of a cool sea breeze, or the mist that cascaded from breaking waves. The cool contrast of the ocean blues and the warm, homey smell of baked goods was a little disarming, and yet Keith found himself instinctively drawn in by the unique marriage of them both. As he made his way further inside, he could hear the distant sound of music coming from somewhere deep in the store. It was cheerful and bright, and although he knew he must have been imagining it, he could almost make out the sound of a sweet ocean breeze swaying along to each note, only drawing him further into the sea. He walked up to the display case, peaking in at what remained after the long day. The display was near empty, so he busied himself by combing through the assortment of labels marking empty rows. Strawberry Cheesecake, Coconut Cream Pie, Pecan Banana Bread… At the sound of hurried footsteps rounding the corner from what appeared to be the back baking area, Keith reflexively began to speak.

“I’m not sure if you have any left… I know I’m here pretty late. But, any chance you have any cinnamon bagels?” He remained partially lost in thought, mind still adrift at sea. His gaze continued to fixate on the display rather than meet the eyes of person he now spoke to.

“No worries!” The voice from behind the counter rang clear and bright. “We do, you won’t find them in there though.” Keith looked up as he continued to speak, following the voice. The sound carried his focus to a tall boy with a wide, goofy smile and kind eyes. He watched as the speaker cocked his head to the display, gesturing toward the empty case as he spoke. “I’ve been keeping a few extra in the back for-“ the boy continued, pausing for a moment “Well, they’ve been pretty popular lately.” Keith’s eyes continued to drink him in, utterly fixated. He wore a white apron over a light purple t-shirt, both garments sprinkled in powder. Despite slight bags under his eyes, he beamed down at him. Keith realized with a start that his eyes mirrored the soft blue of the walls. “What would you like on it?” Keith sucked in a breath.

“Uh…” Under his gaze, Keith immediately felt self-conscious about his appearance, remembering in grueling detail how long it had been since he had washed his hair, the carelessness with which he had thrown his hair up. He could feel his ears and cheeks, which were already rosy from the brisk walk to the marketplace, begin to warm. “If it’s not too much trouble… cream cheese on one side, and butter on the other.” His sentence trailed off in a low mumble and his eyes fell to his hands. He nervously began to thread his fingers together, palms quickly clamming. “Oh, please!” He tripped over his words, practically shouting them. He looked back up, surprised to see that the boy hadn’t moved, but was instead staring at him like he’d just stumbled upon something interesting. He laughed loudly in response to Keith’s outburst, face creasing and dimples appearing on both sides of his cheeks. For a moment, Keith felt like he was floating. The laugh wasn’t patronizing but kind, and it cascaded over him like ripples drifting outward in a pool. Their eyes met, and Keith thought for a moment that he might burn up on the spot.

“You must be Keith,” the boy smiled, dimples digging deeper into flushed cheeks. “Shiro’s your brother, right? He’s told me a lot about you.” He chuckled before continuing “Nobody but him ever asks for that order.” He turned slightly, craning toward the door that led to the back of the shop. He stopped mid-stance, however, to pause and look at Keith. Waiting, Keith realized, for a reply.

“Uh, y-yeah. Shiro’s my brother.” His throat felt like it was choked for air, words coming out low and patchy. In response, Keith received quite possibly the softest smile he’d ever seen.

“I’ll be right back with that bagel.” He chirped in reply, walking happily out of the room and into the back. After a few moments, Keith let out a long held breath, the tension in his body causing it to sound more like a strangled gasp as it escaped his lips. Suddenly, the entire set up of the bakery made sense. The ocean blues, the music that had him day dreaming of the sea, the warmth that somehow tied it all together. He felt like he’d wadded too far into the ocean, only to be swept helplessly away by an over zealous undertow. He saw light purple quickly come back around the corner, bagel in hand. Humming quietly to himself, the boy began to prep Keith’s order. Keith squirmed, desperately trying to figure out what to do with his hands.

“My name’s Lance, by the way.” The boy, Lance, spoke. His eyes remained trained on his work, but his voice carried the same smile that was spread across his lips. “I was wondering if I’d ever get the chance to meet the person who keeps ordering my cinnamon bagels… or if Shiro would play delivery boy forever.” He laughed quietly to himself as he said so, quickly adding “Not that I mind talking to your brother, he’s very good company.” Lance. Lance. The name hit him like a pound of bricks, heavy and sudden. The baker, the one who’d won over his tastes buds on the first go, who had taken over his father’s business, and who Shiro had been on and on about for weeks was here, standing in front of him, with nimble fingers and ocean eyes. The threads began to unravel in his mind one by one; why Shiro had mentioned his name so much, why he hadn’t been letting Keith eat in peace, why he stood here now. His mind spun and spun, the sudden buzzing of his phone from his hoodie pocket snapping him back into reality. He whipped it out, chasing the sensation that had temporarily anchored him. He unlocked his screen to see a picture of Shiro shooting him a peace sign, tongue stuck out. He was in their living room, clearly not still at work, caption reading plain and clear underneath: “Just kidding.” Before Keith could process the new information, his phone buzzed again, a new message popping up from his brother: “My final delivery: one cute baker, get em’ while he’s hot. ;)”

“I’m gunna kill him!” He stammered, mouth speaking before his mind had the chance to catch up. His eyes remained glued to his phone in utter disbelief, mouth falling open in a comical gape. Somewhere deep in his gut, he could feel a small fire begin to spark. The smoke rose and rose until it reached his cheeks, and –

Oh, Lance was staring at him. He was holding a paper bag in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. Had Keith asked for a tea? He’d wanted to, but had he forgotten? He figured he might have… so how had Lance known? It was probably because of Shiro… Oh, Shiro. Wait, Lance was staring at him. Realization flooded over him, Lance’s perplexed gaze effectively dousing his fire and completely deflating him. His arms shot up immediately, palms facing out and waving frantically. “Not you!” he blurted, a violent blush sprouting up his neck “U-uh… my brother!” Lance continued to stare, expression unreadable as he set down the package and tea he was holding. At this point, Keith figured his face must match the colour of his hoodie. “Not that I’d actually kill him!” He stumbled and stumbled, wracking his brain for anything he could use to explain his way out of this. “I mean, I spoke without thinking… he just sent me a text and-“ oh no, you can’t tell him what it said “Uhhh…. well, he sort of tricked me, and it surprised me… and…” He was interrupted by a burst of laughter. For a moment, Keith thought he had absolutely lost his mind. But Lance was laughing, loud and clear and without reservation. He clutched at his stomach with one hand and attempted to wipe at the tears spilling from the sides of his eyes with the other. His laugh filled the room in waves, lifting and breaking, until it bubbled all around him. For some reason, all the tension in Keith’s body eased at the light, carefree sound.

“I’m sorry.” Lance gasped between laughs, still holding his stomach. Once he’d calmed enough to speak clearly, he continued. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.” His cheeks were patchy and rosy, and his face was still creased and bright with hints of laughter. “I have siblings… I get it, they mess with you. It can get pretty crazy.” Still smiling, he glanced at the watch on the underside of his wrist. He made his way over to the front of the shop, wiping at his eyes again as he did so, and flipped the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed.” When he was back behind the counter, he spoke again. “Your order’s ready.” He glanced down at where he’d set the items on the counter. Keith followed his gaze, and felt his shoulders slacken.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Keith fumbled with his wallet, searching for change. He didn’t blame Lance for wanting him to leave, he had come in late… and probably freaked him the hell out. He tried not to appear too dejected as he handed the amount displayed on the register to Lance.

“I still have to close up shop.” Lance spoke suddenly, sentence trailing as though he was thinking aloud. “But, I’m pretty interested in hearing about how the ever-polite Shiro tricked his little brother…” Keith’s entire body perked without his consent, and Lance’s expression softened. “You can stay and eat here as I close, if you want to tell me.”

“If you don’t mind the company.” Keith replied, a little too quickly. “I jump at any chance to ruin Shiro’s spotless reputation. Man’s not as innocent as he seems.” Lance laughed again, this time low and quiet.

“I’d love company.”