Work Text:
Keith Kogane’s business partner is a man named Takashi Shirogane.
Keith hates him with a passion.
In a company as large as COL, it was a necessity that every project manager have an off-site counterpart to go back and forth with -- both to generate new ideas and solutions, or to have that final quality check by someone who knew the field.
The KOSMO project started a little over three years ago. Why Allura had picked Keith to lead the on-site team, he’d never guess. The others often bemoaned Keith’s prickly attitude and flagrant disregard for timelines, but Allura insisted he was the man for the job. Eventually Keith won over his coworkers with his passion and quick-thinking -- and the thick sarcasm was a big hit with Pidge especially. Everything clicked into place eventually. Timelines were met, progress made, and soon enough Keith was being invited over to Friday BBQ & DnD night.
So far as he knew, Shiro was his near opposite -- aggressively patient and absolute in his every business decision. He had two PHDs (astrophysics and artificial intelligence with a minor in engineering, AKA nerd) and had previous work experience in simulation from his time over at GALRA. Keith built robots out of his shack in Arizona and was, needless to say, self-taught.
It was only in this last year that Keith entertained the idea of them being equals in anything more than the physical title.
This new LION project was undoing every small bit of confidence Keith had managed to amass.
Reports went out every Friday and came back to Keith on Monday morning covered in red marks, like this was high school all over again. Not that Keith couldn’t handle being told when he was wrong -- and Shiro always made valid corrections in his blueprints -- but Keith was convinced that Shiro thought he was an idiot.
T.Shirogane : Great design :) Just a few corrections!
As if the scanned PDF wasn’t nearly drowned in red. His mounting emotions must have been leaking beyond his cubicle’s walls, because it wasn’t long before there was a tentative knock against the entryway. “You OK there, buddy? Your typing just got, uh, a bit more key-smashy.” Hunk waited for Keith’s small nod of acceptance before stepping inside.
The screen of red even pulled a whistle of disbelief from Hunk. “Wow, Shiro’s really laying into this one, huh?”
“No kidding,” Keith couldn’t keep the disdain from his tone, didn’t bother trying since this was Hunk and Hunk understood. Since Shiro and Keith worked together exclusively, he couldn’t even find out if this harsh criticism was team-wide or meant to be Keith’s own special little Hell. “Whatever. Ready to head down?”
Another hand snagged on the corner of Keith’s cube, and Lance swung inside with a wide grin. “It’s sim day for BestDog, isn’t it?”
“KOSMO.” Pidge corrected as she passed by, beelining for the lab.
Whatever you wanted to call it -- Keith originally opted for the original serial 89945-K9O00S5M-0, but everyone kept teasing him over it -- the whole building was buzzing with the idea of launch day. There had been plenty of trial runs already with the last one ending with the poor thing engulfed in flames, so Keith kept his expectations low to the ground. Still, the giggly wonder was contagious and he couldn’t help the small smile curling his lips as the team made its way downstairs.
The rows of lights snapped on one at a time, illuminating what looked more like a mechanic’s garage than a typical lab. Only difference was their garage was home to one very special boy.
Keith turned to the folded metal sitting by the door and gave the shiny black metal a pat, waking the AI from hibernation. It followed on command to Keith’s desk and slid into the sim port. A few keystrokes later, KOSMO was hooked up and ready to be worked on. Pidge, as head of AI, moved into Keith’s space and looked over the blue screen of code with a frown. She gave an impatient wave of her hand when Keith slid over to give her space. “I already got what I need. We agreed on the mountain sim yesterday, yeah? Boot that up for me.”
“Roger.” Keith clicked on a few more tabs, brought up the appropriate sim, and watched as KOSMO lit up blue at the data transfer. “At your command.”
“Let’s see if KOSMO can manage to stay upright this time.” Her tone wasn’t convincing, but Pidge smiled anyway. They left for the backyard just a Lance came rounding over. He gave Keith a meaningful glance, which Keith didn’t bother to acknowledge, but Lance didn’t take the silence as a deterrent. He never did.
“So…..that office party.” Lance tried to lean against Keith’s desk, missed, and recovered in a smooth cross of his arms.
Keith didn’t move his eyes from the screens. They had been in-office for approximately thirty minutes, and already they were talking shop? Keith suppressed a groan. “I know of it.” KOSMO’s cameras finally blipped on, and Keith’s fingers stilled. Everything looked good thus far.
“Great! Are you going?”
Keith pressed in a few more keys. “You know parties aren’t my thing.” This was a conversation nearly as old as their friendship, so Keith just continued to frown and give Lance minimal attention.
“C’mon man,” Lance sighed, “We’ve been working on BestDog for three years now, and you’re not going to go to the launch day party? They’re even flying in the off-site people for it! We’ll get to see Coran again, and Matt, Lotor--”
This wasn’t going anywhere, so Keith gave Lance an impatient wave of his hand. “I have plans.” It did the exact opposite of shut Lance up, unfortunately.
“You, have plans? What, pray tell, are they?”
Their gazes met, purple versus brown, and Keith’s grimace faltered with his weak excuse. “To, uh, not go.”
Lance threw up his hands in victory and moved them back down to grab Keith’s shoulders. The battle was lost. “Oh you’re going, Keith Kogane. You’re going to go and you’re going to have a good time. We will eat food that the Garrison is providing. There will be karaoke. We’ll do shots off BestBoy. You. Will. Have. Fun.”
“Yeah!” Hunk yelled, unhelpfully, from his computer at the other end of the lab.
“Besides, off-site will be there.” Lance said, “So we can finally give Shiro shit for basically bullying you this whole time. You know, defend your honor as our project manager. Maybe via dance-off. Maybe fisticuffs. I'll probably lose if it’s fisticuffs.”
Oh. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind that that was a possibility. Instead of bothering to think of a proper response, he turned his eyes back to KOSMO’s live feed. It was handling gravel better this time around. “I’ve managed to avoid meeting him for three years -- not exactly looking to break that particular record. But….yeah, I’ll go. Stop fistpumping and get back to work, already. What is Allura even paying you for?”
Lance was annoying, but he was a good friend. And the fact he --and Hunk, and Pidge too -- were willing to hassle Shiro for his sake brought a smile back to his face. It was enough to get him through the rest of the day, and to accept the little calendar invite that had been sitting untouched in his mailbox for two months.
It wasn’t five minutes after that an IM popped up in Keith’s screen. He tore his eyes from KOSMO’s inspection of ‘Victim 2’ to double-click, wondering what the hell Shiro wanted now.
T.Shirogane : I’m surprised to see you signed up for the launch party.
So, what, he wasn't allowed to have fun? Keith ignored the spike of irritation and slammed out a quick reply.
K.Kogane : Spent 3 years on KOSMO, might as well take advantage of free food.
T.Shirogane : We should discuss the LION project while I’m in town. Do you want to meet early?
The short answer was no, but Keith couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the thought of discussing LION with Shiro. That particular project was still sitting in his email, Shiro’s red corrections all over. There wasn’t a nice way to say ‘I’d rather eat glass’ to your corporate equivalent, though, so Keith sighed and started to type again.
K.Kogane : Can I still eat?
T.Shirogane : Of course! Is that cute bar still across the street?
Oh, right, Shiro had been in town last year covering for Keith when he had to go to his Uncles’ wedding. Of course he had scoped out the area.
K.Kogane : Yup.
T.Shirogane : Perfect. Looking forward to it.
Shiro’s IM suddenly went on ‘Away’ before Keith could ask for clarification on the time, but he shrugged and went back to watching KOSMO. Pidge….did she throw a banana on the floor on purpose?
KOSMO tripped on it and Keith got to watch in real-time as Pidge laughed herself silly. Yep, definitely on purpose.
“Pidge, I’d like to remind you this is a real-time, government-funded sim.” Keith’s voice rang over the speakers in the testing room. “...please tell me you got that on video.”
...
T.Shirogane : M a T T!!!
T.Shirogane : He said y s e
“Aw, man,” Matt stood from his desk and gave Shiro a slow, rousing clap. “So proud. Sending over a celebratory cookie.” In just a few tics KOSMO lit up with energy and stood at attention. Matt took one of the cookies from his stash and gingerly set it atop the robot dog, watching as it lumbered over to Shiro.
Shiro took the cookie from atop KOSMO and raised it in salute. “You were right, Matt. I went for it...and it just...worked.”
“Well you should never doubt me ever again, and also, for some reason voicing your affections instead of stewing in them for two years is more likely to garner you results.” But still, he was proud of his friend for finally working up the courage. He knew this meant he’d have to hear about Keith for six hours of his day instead of just five, but it was a small price to pay for Shiro’s giddy smile.
KOSMO did some donuts next to Shiro as he choked on the cookie, but Shiro waved off the ro-beast. “Affections?”
“Yeah,” Matt blinked across the room in disbelief, “you said you just asked him on a dat -- Shiro. Shiro, no.”
The heavy weight of Matt’s gaze all but forced the confession from Shiro. “I might have...made it….work-related…”
There was silence. Then, “KOSMO rip that cookie outta Shiro’s mouth right now. He no longer deserves it.”
KOSMO had less than a .01% chance of actually following through with that order, but Shiro still rushed to defend himself. “What else was I supposed to say over a company IM? ‘Hi Keith I think you’re cute and your eyes hold all of the universe in them and I want to hold your hand and listen to you talk about the complexities of rigging Simulation data into an AI until I turn to dust’?”
Matt took a moment to think it over. He gave a small nod. “Yes, that. That exactly. Word-for-word.” He didn’t look impressed when Shiro sputtered and turned red at the thought, and he didn’t look impressed when Shiro hid his face in his hands, either. “How are you the biggest baby I know when you’re approximately six feet tall and a wall of muscle?”
“A ripped baby.” Shiro offered unhelpfully.
They stew in silence because Shiro deserves it, and KOSMO flits between the two while waiting for its next command. Shiro takes pity on the robot and waves it over to its charging port. The googly eyes that Matt glued to its ‘face’ are failing to make Shiro snort with laughter, just this once.
Takashi Shirogane’s business partner was a man named Keith Kogane, and Shiro could not be more smitten. They only spoke about work, which was fine, because Shiro was so fascinated with Keith’s designs and simulation runs that he melted anytime Keith asked him for an opinion. It was embarrassing.
The work didn’t falter because of it, so Shiro didn’t stress himself over the moralistic implications of a workplace relationship, but it was decidedly one-sided. Until today. Maybe.
“Do you want me to ask Pidge…?” Came Matt’s tentative olive branch of a question. It was admirable. Shiro appreciated his best friend in every way.
Shiro finally pulled his hands from his face and stared down at the little IM chatbox. Keith’s name sat there like a challenge. “No….don’t burden Katie with this. I’ll figure it out.”
Matt’s answering shrug was all Shiro deserved, so he returned to work with a newfound fever. They had two months before KOSMO launched -- there was still a lot of work to do on both designs here and at the main site, plus whatever projects that were still running in the background.
Shiro clicked through his email until he found the PDF he had returned to Keith for the LION blueprints. Keith had never complained about the paper being littered with red circles of approval, but now that Shiro reviewed it the whole thing seemed childish. Even with praise being splashed out on the paper, the designs were always changed again by the time Keith was done with them, normally accompanied by a simple ‘These better?’ typed into the subject line of the email.
They always were.
Maybe the LION project hadn’t been a good one to entice Keith with -- they had already gone back and forth about the design a few times and the budget wasn’t even set in stone. Wasn’t there a better project he could flirt with?
Shiro castised himself the moment the thought crossed his mind. What was sexier than robot lions? Lions could bring up the topic of cats, of which Shiro had one, and they could bond over that.
Keith had brought up cats once to Shiro. Mentioned he had a calendar of them on his wall; a gift from Hunk for Christmas. He liked them. Had one, himself, named Red. Anyway, would the budget cover making KOSMO prototypes completely hydrophobic?
It wasn’t much, but it didn’t revolve around work, so that was a three year improvement automatically.
Shiro was pulled from his thoughts when Matt’s little IM box flashed up a notification indicating that the other man was typing. He waited with a quiet curiosity.
M.Holt : I’m sending over a very important video. Please see the below attachment.
M.Holt : Watch the banana peel.
...
They say that correlation does not imply causation, but the fourth cup of coffee in Keith’s trembling hands and the bags under his eyes said otherwise. KOSMO was due to launch in seven days. Yay.
The general excitement that thrummed through the team just two months prior was replaced by a crushing exhaustion. Morale was low. Coffee was low. KOSMO’s twin brother was sitting in their lab, looking up with those damn googly eyes, with blessings from the off-site team who had finished early.
Which meant Keith was getting more ‘helpful pointers’ from Shiro at a increasingly consistent rate. Of course, everyone was scrambling to keep up with their counterpart this late in the game -- cross-referencing notes, slamming keys in desperate IMs, the like -- but so far as Keith knew, he was the only one being tortured.
T.Shirogane : They gave us this last week off since we finished early, but feel free to reach out if you have any questions! You’re part of a team of brilliant individuals. I’m sure it won’t take long to catch up.
“‘Catch up’,” Keith hissed. “Like his KOSMO is so much better.”
“I know where Matt lives. Let’s kill them.” Pidge’s nose was pressed to KOSMO’s access panel, so Keith barely heard her, but he appreciated the rage simmering in those few words. They had been sleeping under their desks the last two days and neither of them felt human anymore.
“Let’s leave the googly eyes on their KOSMO for launch day.” It was the best Keith could come up with to offset Pidge’s idea of murder...for the moment.
Five days to launch left them even more hairbrained. Lance suggested rigging KOSMO to shoot out laser beams. Hunk was the only one holding it together, sleepily suggesting they just skip town and never look back. They all nodded in solemn agreement before downing their coffee and getting back to work.
Because it was getting a little bit pathetic. Keith referred to himself twice as ‘KOSMO’. Hunk accidentally ordered a completely bare pizza. Pidge kissed KOSMO goodnight. Lance wrote his will on a paper napkin. They were tired. Keith personally was fried, inside and out. Shutting his eyes just brought up a back-burned image of a blue screen of code. Was this the real life or just a big sim?
“Pidge,” Keith had gasped, eyesight swimming, “are we in the Matrix?”
Another day passed, then another, until both KOSMOs sat before them in their perfect forms. They had scraped the googly eyes from the off-site team’s robot, but only because Allura started crying when she saw what several years’ worth of research had been reduced to. It was the only time in the last five days that Keith felt anything like a conscious and he was a little grateful to be reminded.
Everyone was ordered home to rest up and make themselves presentable for launch day. Also good job, or whatever. Words washed over Keith and by the time he drove his bike into his complex’s garage, he couldn’t even recall the ride home.
He was relieved to see Red was still alive and well by the time he toed open the door -- Kolivan was the best uncle a guy could ask for. “Hey, girl.” Keith reached down and gave her a gentle scratch, was going to do some more petting for his neglected cat, but she started to look like a mini red lion, so…
Right. Bedtime.
A small ping on his phone woke Keith from his 12-hour nap. The only way to reach it was to reach over Red on the bed beside him, so Keith left it for another few hours as he drifted back to sleep. Sleep was soft, and warm, and trapped Keith for longer than it probably should have.
By the time he finally convinced himself to leave the safe comfort of dreamless sleep, Keith had a multitude of messages. He scrolled lazily as Red curled into his lap, noting Pidge’s nonstop swarm of gifs and Lance’s promise to drink twice as much at the party. Hunk hadn’t sent anything at all, so he was probably still asleep.
The last gif of Dat Boi finally faded out to show the modest amount of IMs from Shiro. Keith did a quick mental calculation and figured there was less than forty eight hours to the party -- so yeah, Shiro was probably on his flight into town.
The messages weren’t anything that needed his immediate attention, so Keith opted for breakfast instead. Another incredulous look at the clock did nothing to stop Keith from eating frozen waffles at 3 PM. In that moment, he was a god.
The feeling faded when he did read Shiro’s messages, if just to clear them out of his inbox.
T.Shirogane : Heard you all finished ahead of schedule! Well done.
T.Shirogane : If time allows, I’ll be down to the lab to check on both KOSMOs. Matt mentioned that Pidge found a line of code that seemed abnormal.
T.Shirogane : Please disregard the previous message. Matt has confirmed it was just a code of ‘f- you’ left by his sister. Classic.
Then, a few days later:
T.Shirogane : I’m really excited to see the cumulation of our three years of work together. #KOSMObestdog
Shiro wasn’t always a dick, but this was especially soft coming from him. Keith winced when he saw the message was dated from almost a full day prior and hurried to type back something similar.
K.Kogane : Couldn’t have done it without you, Shiro. See you soon.
It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Keith pocketed his phone and went back to reclaiming his life.
...
K.Kogane : Been trying to reach out all today. Are we still meeting early?
T.Shirogane : Sorry! Meetings with Allura and Coran have kept me from my phone. I assumed we’d meet at the bar? I don’t care either way.
K.Kogane : Do you even want to meet?
T.Shirogane : Like I said, either way.
K.Kogane : ...You are priceless, really.
T.Shirogane : What? You’re priceless !! :)
K.Kogane : You wanna go right now?
T.Shiorgane : OK, yeah, let’s go.
K.Kogane : You wanna really do this now?
T.Shirogane : Yup. First round’s mine!
Rage was an old friend of Keith’s, and though he had long worked on ways to channel the dangerous rush of emotion through more productive means, he only saw red at the moment. Did Shiro assume Keith had no life, to just casually wave away concerns about their meetup? Keith didn’t even want to go in the first place and here he was being told that it was whatever. So flippant. So haughty.
Keith shoved his hands into his pockets and stood abruptly from his desk -- if Shiro wanted to meet so badly, he was going to make it memorable. The LION project was currently a stack of 100+ pages, lovingly sorted and detailed for full review. It was impossible to miss just from the sheer size of it.
It sat there, intentionally forgotten, in the middle of his desk.
Because Keith was out for blood and he wasn’t about to let Shiro use the project as his shield.
He rounded on the bar just a few minutes later, stopping to snort at the little cat sign hanging above the door. It wasn’t his kind of place, but even Keith knew of ‘Cat’s Meow’. It was right across the street from the lab, offered hot chocolate year-round, had free wifi, and two cute cats roaming at all times. The sight of the bar softened up Keith, but only for a moment. Then he remembered his directive.
The door clattered open accompanied by the soft jangle of bells, which wasn’t quite the dramatic scene Keith was hoping to cultivate, but whatever. The gangly college student manning the front counter gave him a wary stare before continuing to pour out a whiskey, and the bar fell to silence again. It was a weird hour for anyone to be visiting so Keith let his eyes wander openly.
He had never actually seen a picture of Shiro, but he remembered Allura’s description of him -- tall, Japanese-American, with dark hair and gray eyes. It would have been an insultingly short mockup for anyone but this was Arizona and Keith was pretty sure he alone made up 1/4th of the Asian population.
There were two guys in the bar.
One looked like he needed to go home and apologize to his husband, preferably with flowers in hand. The Garrison jacket on the other guy was unmistakable.
Keith approached with fire on his tongue. And -- looking back -- he probably should have drawn back for a moment to take a calming breath. As it was, he grabbed Shiro’s shoulder and yanked him around to face him. “Hey, are you Shiro--”
His words died.
Some part of him probably died, too.
Shiro was fucking hot.
Why did no one tell him Takahashi ‘Shiro’ Shirogane was hot!?
No, no, hot people didn’t get off easy. No one was allowed to push around Keith and act like it was all a big inconvenience to them. Keith reached back for the fire burning in him, wheezed and struggled to fight, saying, “Shiro -- you, you are --”
Shiro killed Keith on the spot with his delighted thousand-watt smile. “Keith! It’s so good to finally meet you. Like I said, first round’s on me! Anything in particular you want?”
Form. Words. Keith. “Uh...whatever you’re having.”
Seeing that Shiro was with someone now, the bartender gave a disappointed huff and turned to make Keith his matching drink. Shiro watched with polite interest as Keith slid onto his assigned barstool and folded his hands in his lap. “I’m glad you suggested we meet at the bar. I forgot how charming this place is.”
Keith had only been here a few times, and that was because his friends had forced him. “Best only gay bar in town.”
Shiro sputtered out his drink just as Keith was handed his, and both he and the bartender stared at Shiro with a vague concern. He looked shell-shocked. The tense coil in Keith’s stomach tightened with the implication of it. “Did you not realize? We can leave, if you --”
“No, no, I’m gay!” A moment passed, and Shiro buried his face in his hands in silent horror. Keith watched with sympathy.
Keith took a tentative sip of his drink while he waited for Shiro to recover. Oh, this was actually good. He gave the bartender a small nod in thanks. Now, just to save Shiro. Keith let his eyes slide over his counterpart and found himself internally crooning.
The launch party was in a few hours, so Shiro had dressed to the nines in dark slacks and a purple vest that showed off the firm silhouette of his frame. It was currently covered by the bulky Garrison jacket, so Keith mourned that, but with his face growing red as it was it wouldn’t be long before he was too hot for it. There were a few scars, here and there poking from his clothing. One big one was cut across the bridge of his nose, which Keith only just noticed because Shiro was finally dragging his hands down his face.
One of those hands looked metal. Maybe that’s why he didn’t feel Keith’s vice-grip earlier? Keith wanted to get a better look at it, but Shiro was already forcing himself back into easy confidence. The strained, unnatural look of it left Keith itchy. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine. I did agree to meet here, you know.” Keith answered with shrug. The implication of his words left Shiro with an organic smile. It was so fucking cute.
“Oh.”
“Yup.”
“I guess we are more alike than we thought.” Shiro said.
Keith let himself entertain the idea. “It’s good to finally meet you after these three years.” It wasn’t the smoothest change of topic, but it seemed necessary at the moment. Shiro’s visible loss of tension was enough to confirm. “Though this isn’t like the end of our work, anyway. Even if KOSMO is launching --”
Shiro gave a small nod of understanding. “There’s still so much to be done. And, I -- I feel the same. It’s good to meet you, face-to-face. There’s so much lost to just electronic conversation.”
No fucking kidding. Keith blinked at the opener and wondered if this was his chance to air out grievous. The fire inside him had long been replaced with something a bit gentler, low-burning. Though he still had his suspicions, goofy smile, kind-eyed Shiro did not seem like the kind of man to consciously agree to meet and brawl at some random bar. Keith’s fingers flexed on his thigh and he sighed. “That was me being stubborn, I know.”
“No, no, please don’t take it like that.” Shiro grasped his drink in a vague attempt to keep himself from shaking Keith. The glass clinked dangerously in his prosthetic palm. “Our work never suffered.”
Well sure, the work never suffered.
Keith slid Shiro another look, found him looking over earnestly. “Uh.” Keith swallowed the lump in his throat. “No offense, but you’re kinda impossible to read.” When Shiro’s look faltered, Keith shoved their previous IM backlog into his face. “You agreed to fight me.”
Shiro abandoned his drink to gingerly take Keith’s phone. He scrolled in silence, then looked back up at Keith. The emotion lingering in his gunsteel-gray eyes was impossible to read right now, too. Shiro licked his lips and said, “I thought you were asking if you wanted to meet earlier than planned. And I offered to buy the first round of drinks, which, still stands, I suppose…”
The air between them was growing awkward. Keith was itchy with the fact that it was him that had ruined the mood so spectacularly. He didn’t know what to say -- was dreading when Shiro continued.
“You calling me priceless was…?”
“Not a friendly thing.” Keith choked out.
Shiro was so soft. “Oh. I didn’t mean…”
Keith leaned forward in a rush, desperate to mend their newfound companionship, but in his rush his drink splashed over their hands. Whatever. “Listen, I’ve always been awkward with social cues and tend to assume the worst of others. Obviously you’re not the kind of person to be sarcastic with your praise--”
“You took even that as an insult?”
“-- or even those fucking smiley faces--” He couldn’t say it all fast enough. Shiro was looking just as confused as Keith felt. Where was he even going with this? “I just, I get it. Now. Now I get it. So.”
Things finally fell into a natural quiet. Shiro, once turned towards Keith and open, smiling, curled a little on himself and wiped down his sticky hands. Keith didn’t want to stare at Shiro as he formulated a response, so he turned away as well and downed the last of his drink.
Good going, Kogane, Keith mused to himself. This is a new record for you.
As someone who grew up in the foster care system, was thrown from house to house and generally treated like some unwanted thing, trust was a hard thing to gain with Keith. He wasn’t used to praise. Didn’t know how to take it when it was paired with obvious criticism too. Dryly he noted that self-deprecation was his first go-to, as well. There was no winning with Keith Kogane.
At least, he thought.
Shiro finally thought of an answer. He turned and slapped Keith on the shoulder. “I really admire your work, Keith. Your team would follow you to hell and back if you so asked, and for good reason. Your sim scores are better than mine. Your knowledge of AI, engineering, and design are rivalled only by those who specialize in those fields. You’re obviously passionate about what you do. Keith, you’re amazing.”
When Keith could only sputter in response, Shiro continued, “You’re also really cute.”
Keith couldn’t form a sentence before. Now he could barely breathe. He felt his cheeks burning red; wished he could blame it on just the meager amount of alcohol in his system.
“And I’m a sincere guy, Keith. I just want you to know that everything I said was true. I know you felt nervous at first --”
“Shiro.”
“-- but I hope you can still continue to work with me in the future just as we always have--”
“Shiro!” Keith raised his voice just a touch, watched as Shiro finally cut off his ramble. He blinked across at Keith, big-eyed and full of wonder. He reached up to give Shiro’s hand still on his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and gave a small nod. “Can you give me, just, an hour to kinda run this through? I’m going to have to unpack three years worth of misunderstandings.”
“Oh my god.” Shiro finally laughed. “Are we idiots?”
They were sitting in an empty gay bar in Arizona, cringing over misunderstandings Keith had been ready to throw down for, and Shiro had the audacity to ask that?
“Let’s fix that.” Keith finally sighs.
...
They still had time to kill before the party started, so Keith invited Shiro into his office. The neglected LION project was finally pried open and flipped through. Shiro touched the pages as if they were sacred but even that wasn’t enough to save the blueprints from his red pen. Keith couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips at the first mark.
Shiro didn’t look up from his work, wrist flicking as he read through the report with unnatural speed. “What’s wrong?”
“I changed all the stuff you wanted. I’m running out of options on the design of the head.” Keith motioned to the giant red circle Shiro had marked on the page, ink still fresh and bright.
Now Shiro did look up. His brow furrowed with confusion as he tapped the page with the tip of his pen. “What are you talking about? I’m marking it as approved. Red,” he tapped the pen again, “means it’s good.”
Keith opened his mouth. He closed it, then sank into the chair adjacent from Shiro. It was his turn to be shell-shocked, apparently. Shiro wasn’t getting the deal, so Keith managed to whisper out, “Are you fucking kidding me.”
He reached across from Shiro and grabbed a green ink pen. With a flourish, he added a green checkmark to the LION’s blueprint. “That,” Keith said, “is how you indicate something is approved.”
They sat there, staring each other down, neither budging. Shiro had been right -- they were absolute idiots.
...
Drinks were sorely needed after that, and Shiro was working on his third -- or fourth? -- one by the time either of them felt like talking about work again. He moved it animatedly and sloshed half of the whiskey on his prosthetic with little care. “I didn’t realize the American school system criminalized red.” Words were slurred by this point. But Shiro still insisted on telling the whole thing.
Keith pointedly looked at their small audience. After nearly hacking out a lung from laughing so hard, Keith’s team had managed to quiet down and listen to the cringey unfolding of their last six hours. Matt was also there, and blessedly that’s where the list ended. Allura and Lotor did not need to know their two project managers had kept misunderstanding each other for three years instead of just talking like adults.
He raised a hand and kept the remainder of Shiro’s drink from spilling by taking it himself. Shiro flashed him a grateful smile, as if Keith had just saved his life, and continued to gush, “Do you guys use green ink too?”
The party was just starting to level out -- everyone of importance had shown up, hand shakes were awarded, KOSMOs paraded around, and food had been cleared to make way for celebratory drinks.
The mood was good. Keith found himself stealing sly looks towards Shiro more than once, after Lance had demanded the attention of the group. It took Keith a moment to see why, but once people started whipping out their phones, he immediately knew.
“Green Bean is the smartest cat of the bunch, and that’s been proven with statistical significance if you were wondering Shiro.” Pidge flashed her phone. The screen was covered in a montage dedicated to her calico with the greenest eyes Keith had ever seen.
“Ain’t got nothing on my baby Blue!” Everyone was shoving their phones in Shiro’s face, eager to show off, but he was already a step ahead.
“They are cute, but,” Shiro whipped out a picture of his cat and paused for dramatics, “let me show you a real cat.” Keith couldn’t see Shiro’s phone from here, so he settled for Hunk’s gentle touch on his arm. When he leaned over he couldn’t help but smile. Hunk had got his grizzled blonde furball some kind of bowtie and managed to snap a picture before it was ripped off.
Keith hadn’t really noticed the quiet until Hunk’s voice broke through the silence, suddenly too loud, “You should bring Red over sometime. I think those old farts miss each other.”
The thought was amusing, so Keith gave a small nod, “Sure.”
The momentary distraction was apparently too much for Shiro’s liking, because Keith found himself being pulled into his space. Warmth from Shiro’s hand was startling, but Keith didn’t flinch from the touch for once in his life. “I want to see.” Shiro sounded almost pathetic with his soft whine. Maybe he really was drunk.
Keith pried him off only long enough to fish his own phone out and tap the screen on. Shiro melted back against Keith with the softest ‘aw’.
“Don’t let her cute looks fool you. Nearly murdered me when I found her in that alley.” Red could not be called cute. That was a face only a mother -- or in this case, a father -- could love.
“She looks capable of murder. I love her already.” When had Shiro moved his hand to wrap his arm around Keith’s shoulders? He balked a little, now torn away from the distraction of the screen, and felt his cheeks grow warm at the invasion of space.
The party was winding down -- had been for some time. Lance’s promise of karaoke and body shots had fallen through, which was fine because they were adults at a company-funded function and that was a good way to no longer be invited back to work come Monday. The KOSMOs were the only ones really still wandering around. But there was still an audience in front of them, and Keith was faltering bad.
He was thinking too much into these casual touches. Shiro had still, for all intents and purpose, met Keith early to talk over work. The lingering gazes and subtle body cues were lost on someone like Keith, anway. He was never good with those -- so said Lance, Hunk, and Pidge. So reading into those now would just be….
Keith slammed back the last of Shiro’s whiskey. It was better to drink while said drinks were still free.
Another round of drinks came and went. Shiro eventually removed his arm around Keith’s shoulders to join in the cheer ‘Shiro’s not really an asshole, yay!’ and Keith was so distraught after he returned the favor to compensate. Three years worth of compliments and praise and soft words were flooding into Keith with every sip of whiskey. It was like having a rose handed over already shed of its thorns. Keith was just used to being bloodied. He didn’t know that he could lift the soft red to his face and breathe something sweet.
By no means was there any need to rush. Shiro and the rest of the off-site team wasn’t leaving town for another week, and would be joining them in the lab to start building more KOSMOs. Keith would see him daily.
Still, a rush of fear came when Shiro leaned over and asked, “I’m heading back to the hotel. Do you need a ride home?” Like it was absolutely nothing at all. His smile was blurred by the alcohol thrumming in Keith’s veins, but it was still stupidly beautiful. Keith raised both his hands and held Shiro with reverence. Shiro blinked back.
“You didn’t meet me at the bar early to talk about work.” Anger had no right to boil up now, at 3 AM, but there it was.
“Ah,” Shiro heaved in a breath, “not entirely.” He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe rant again about Keith’s brilliance with the AI or some shit like that -- Keith didn’t need it. He had heard all about it the last hour. He wanted this new, particular conversation.
He wanted to know why Shiro looked nervous.
“I’m drunk.” Was all Keith could manage, instead.
When he woke alone in his own apartment, Keith found fault only with himself.
...
Why was a scrawled line so cute.
Why was a line, shaky with obvious foreign misunderstanding, so goddamn cute.
It was arguably the worst green checkmark he had ever seen in his life, and Keith stumbled over his rundown of the AI build because of it. It didn’t take much willpower to continue on, but still. He ran his thumb affectionately over the mark as they pressed forward, Shiro nodding along as Keith brokedown the way he had rigged the sim data into the core of the AI.
“Pidge is the mastermind behind the AI so we had to collaborate on the interface to make them somewhat compatible, but Matt’s mastersheet of code is easy enough to replicate. Pidge built an error-seeking code within that so if anything buggy pops up she’ll be able to find it. Sometimes the AI mutates; wouldn’t be an AI otherwise. Her code keeps it in check.” Keith was loathe to flip through to the next page, to leave his green mark behind, but still he continued, “There’s enough sim data to get any new KOSMO through the basic runthrough but we lost a lot of hours when that power outage hit back in February.”
“We can clock more hours if need be, but it sounds like the AI will be able to work with what we provide. Did we secure suppliers for the skeleton?” Shiro flipped ahead a few pages and took a half-step back without looking up when a stray KOSMO came wiggling past. What, did both models have googly-eyes now?
“Lance and Ezor had that handled.” Keith found another few checkmarks on the next page and paused. Shiro had already skipped ahead, but when Keith failed to continue he finally glanced over. “You didn’t have to….I know now.” Keith tapped his fingers to the paper printout in vain. Shiro was already smiling wistfully.
“Everyone else agreed green was the way to go.” The shrug was nonchalant, but Keith wanted to bet there was a fresh container of green ink pens in Shiro’s travel bag right at that very moment.
The thought was simultaneously annoying and heartwarming. He was being bratty, but it was worth saying, “Yeah, well, you’re working with me last I checked and I like red just fine.”
The silence lasted only for one heartbeat -- then Shiro was chuckling, low and full, and reaching for his back pocket. “Alright, fine.” With a red pen secure in his hand, Shiro moved into Keith’s space and scribbled out a red heart above Keith’s thumb. It completely ran through the section on KOSMO’s data backup, but Keith couldn’t find himself to care. He looked up at Shiro, struck dumb.
“A heart doesn’t leave any room for misunderstanding, right?” Shiro’s words were almost a whisper but they may as well been yelled, with how heavy they hit him.
Shiro was looking for some kind of response.
Keith wanted to give it his best.
He shifted his hand just a little, so he could thumb over the tiny heart. “You know...you said running through our outline was important, so that we can make sure anyone can understand how to put together a KOSMO. But…” He tilted his head to the side and gave a small shrug. “I think we don’t need to waste time doing that.”
“Oh?” Shiro’s smile faltered a little with his interpretation. Keith was having none of it.
“Yeah. I think we deserve an early lunch, together. Just us. We can talk about stuff. Like cats. And dating. I brought my bike today if you wanna ride.” God, Shiro’s answering smile was blinding.
“Oh, I love to ride.” Keith near missed his step with Shiro’s eager response. He laughed off the implication with a wave of his hand, only to falter again when Shiro steadied him with his hand on his hip. “I’m not great with motorcycles, though.”
“Fuckin’ -- Shiro --” Maybe Shiro felt he had overstepped with his teasing with the way Keith’s voice cracked but when he went to move away Keith just grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward impatiently. “At least let me buy you lunch first.”
Lunch was good. Making out on top of his motorcycle after was even better.