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Shiro had dropped it casually after their Thursday sparring session.
Keith was learning, slowly, that sometimes when people said things casually, that those were the most important things.
Before Shiro he’d had people in his life, but not like this. Not close like Shiro was. So now he was learning, slowly, about things like this.
Which was when Shiro’s voice sounded so casual, and the words offered almost as an afterthought when they were packing up, Keith felt somewhat proud that he realised it that it was something he should pay attention to.
“Are you up to anything Saturday night?” Shiro asks, his eyes locked on his hands, as he peeling away the protecting taping.
“Nothing much.” Keith says, avoiding the question a little. He had planned on putting in some extra hours in the simulator. Saturday nights the sim was usually free, other cadets away on weekend leave, or at the weekend movies showings. It was a good time to head in and stay there, uninterrupted, until he starts to fatigue. He knows when his eyes get tired and things starts to blur to give up for the night. There’s no point in ruining his statistics because of stubbornness.
But he’s interested in what Shiro is thinking of.
“Well, sometimes I go into town. There’s a club that opens up Saturday nights that I’ve been to before. Would you like to join me?”
Keith thinks it will be awful. He hates gatherings of people, he hates crowded spaces, he’s never been to a club before, but he went to school dances. He hated them all.
But on the flip side, Shiro.
“Sounds fun.”
He likes to think it’s not lying, more like stretching the truth. The club does not sound fun, but it will involve spending more time with Shiro, which will be fun.
“Oh.” Shiro’s voice is soft, and he’s still watching his hands, but Keith’s eyes are locked on him, so he sees the grin on his face, see’s the pause of Shiro’s fingers on the tape, for just a second, before they start up again. But Keith notices. “It is fun. I can take us out there on the bike about 8 if that works for you.”
When Keith says, “I can’t wait.” He"s telling the truth.
The club is loud. Keith can hear the music from the line outside. He can almost feel the music in his body already, the loud beat is nothing like the music Keith would listen to by choice. He wishes he could say that he’s reconsidering his decision to come, but with Shiro’s shoulder pressed into his, it’s still a win in his books.
He closes his eyes, shutting out everyone around him. He can still hear the music pumping, and he can the warmth of Shiro’s arm where it’s pressing against his, and he focuses on only that, blocking out everyone else to focus on that feeling.
When the arm moves away Keith’s eyes shoot open, looking to where Shiro had been standing.
“Hey, time to go in.” Shiro gives him a smile. “You ready?”
He’s not. But he still answers. “Lead the way.”
The club is loud and crowded, and it makes Keith feel uncomfortable. The air inside feels warm and humid, catching at the back of his throat uncomfortably. The lemonade Shiro brought him does nothing to help, but he gulps it down anyway.
Shiro stands opposite him at the bar table, sipping his own beer. Keith wishes he had an alcoholic drink for himself, but he isn’t surprised that Shiro refused to buy him one. He still has his old fake ID tucked away in an inside pocket of his duffel bag, but he didn’t like his chances of Shiro letting him get away with underage drinking.
Still, he fantasises a little bit about having his own beer, or maybe sharing Shiro’s. Just reaching across the table and pulling it from Shiro’s grasp and chugging it down.
Instead he watches as Shiro picks up the bottle again. His eyes track the bottle, watching as Shiro brings the bottle to his lips. Instead of the smaller sips he’s been taking, Shiro takes a longer pull of the beer, draining the bottle, before placing it down on the table.
“Wanna dance?”
Keith’s eyes shoot up from the bottle to Shiro’s face. Shiro has a smile on his face, and Keith feels his own face echoing the smile. He wants to keep that smile there as long as possible.
So he’ll dance.
“Sure.”
Shiro stands, reaching for Keith’s hand, wrapping it easily around Keith’s wrist, pulling him to his feet. Shiro turns, and the hold on Keith’s wrist tugs him along out onto the dance floor behind Shiro. He capitulates, following along behind Shiro, without offering any resistance.
The dance floor is crowded, and when Shiro turns around, they’re pushed together by the people around them.
Shiro’s hands come to rest against Keith’s back, and Keith hesitates before wrapping his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro is moving to the music, Keith just follows along. With their bodies pressed together Keith can follow the movement, and he might not like dancing but he’s enjoying this.
He loses track of time on the dance floor, all his focus on Shiro and the feeling of their bodies pressed together.
When Shiro leans down to say, “You want a drink?” Into Keith’s ear, Keith nods. He can feel the sweat at the back of his neck, and the hair is sticking, so he’s relieved for the break.
Shiro’s hand slides down, this time taking Keith’s hand before he’s pulling Keith along once more, this time towards the bar.
“Two waters, thanks.” Shiro orders, and when the drinks come he passes one off to Keith, who drinks it down gratefully.
“Are you having fun?”
When Keith answers, “yeah” he’s kind of surprised that it’s the truth.
When Shiro leans down to press his lips gently into Keith’s, Keith can still taste the beer clinging to his lips, even as he can feel the moisture from the water on Shiro’s lips.
It’s not the beer he wanted, but he’s more than happy with this.