Chapter Text
Keith was dancing in Shiro's old, beat-up black truck. The young man couldn’t recall a time where it actually looked black, he just knew that’s what it was supposed to be. Not that anyone would be able to tell with the chipped paint, rust, and general age that came with a car they stopped selling in 1969. But it was for that very reason that Keith secretly liked the rust and dirt. The old truck had developed a reddish-brownish hue to its corners and edges. The roof was rusted to terracotta red, the doors to a bloodied pink-orange. Keith loved this truck. It was his first car; the official symbol of his freedom. He could do anything and go anywhere. This truck gave him the freedom he'd been aching for since Shiro's family took him in.
He kept the music blasting, trying to calm his nerves. He hadn't seen Shiro in a long time and found himself more nervous than he should be. Shiro was flying down from the state of Washington to meet Keith in miserable East Texas. Why? Keith couldn’t be sure. He had his guesses.
A drive through dusty New Mexico, boiling Arizona, and grimy Nevada to the beautiful, coastal state of Oregon would certainly break the ice between them. Why else would Shiro come all the way to Texas when he was currently residing in Oregon’s neighboring state? Keith’s other suspicion was less likely, but the scenario he preferred. Apparently, Shiro’s boyfriend would be staying with him in Oregon this summer. Keith had resigned himself to a lonely drive to meet him when Shiro proposed an alternative that meant Keith could have him all to himself; no boyfriend, no complications. The two of them could come back together.
Keith was amazed by how quickly two brothers could fall apart. There had been a time where Keith relied on Shiro for everything. Shiro guided, counseled, and taught him everything he knew from the moment his father died.
Then again, that was before Kerberos.
Keith's phone buzzed.
****
Unknown Number
This is Takashi Shirogane's brother?
Yes?
okay
sorry but this is his boyfriend.
Excuse me?
shiro had a clever plan to force us to get along
i was going to drive up with the two of you
I don't think so. Who is this?
How do you know my brother?
Im dating him. He was going to introduce me to you on the drive up.
I think you're mistaken. I'm in Houston. Texas.
im in houston.
What?
Hard rock cafe? Houston avenue
Shiro said you would be confused.
What would make him think that?
He missed his flight. he was coming down to pick me up.
He could only afford one plane ticket and he wasn't leaving me here. I cant actually afford my own...
and you're too stubborn to fly up and he didn't want to drive 3000 miles on your own in your "sad truck"
Shiro missed his flight?
Yup. Work emergency before vacation started. he said he'd explain later
but that it was more important that I got into contact with you?
Me?
you're my ride. no money
remember?
...?
Hello?
sorry about this I thought you knew
Shiro made it sound like you knew. of course he did. I don't want to intrude
but I need a way to get up or I'm stuck at my abuela's for the summer
Wait.
I mean. She's nice. but shes no Abeulita
... What?
You're inside?
have been for twenty minutes.
but I guess you were looking for Shiro...
should I come out? I'm not going to OFFICIALLY ask in a text
but I still need a ride
how bout it bro?
I'll come inside.
What do you look like? Where are you sitting?
back left corner. looking away from the door.
I'm the smoakin bisexual cuban
Welcome to Texas. Can I get something besides Latino?
back left corner
Thanks.
You're sarcastic. Right? Shiro said you didn't like people.
never mind
stay out there.
I can find a sad truck easier than a person
Fine.
sorry
What again?
oops. i just meant
i mean,
if you want to come inside thats cool
but it just occurred to me that shiro said you didn't handle people well and its crowded... and you've been sitting in the parking lot for twenty minutes in the sun rather than air conditioning with drinks.
I appreciate the consideration.
You're welcome?
hang on
okay. I'm outside
Where are you parked?
In the corner by the exit. It's a red toyota. I'll turn up the music.
... wait.
the guy blasting metallica?
Punk Rock.
But that's you? stubby little red thing? kinda rusty?
oh,,, sad truck
I get it now.
Follow The Talking Heads. I've rolled down the windows for you.
do you always text like you're writing an essay?
Do you always text like you're speaking? If you change your mind, you know you could hit backspace instead of send. Right?
no. then you wouldn't get the full grasp of my personality
i should never be censored.
Clearly.
Don't worry. I'm just as expressive in person
Fantastic.
Not to ryhme
but
Sarcastic.
:)
?
You still there?
oh, right
I'll come find you now
****
Keith stared at the phone in his hands, debating an answer.
If this poor soul thought he was being sarcastic, he clearly didn't understand the lengths Keith just went through to be polite. Shiro would be proud. Keith rarely exercised such restraint. Keith considered sending another message, something along the lines of 'If I answer you will you start walking already?' or 'If I throw my phone out the window and never answer again, will you take a hint?'
Of course, he would phrase it slightly nicer than that. His current dilemma was getting the idiot to him, where he could talk in person, much faster. Even though Keith couldn't filter himself outside of a text, at least he could understand what was happening.
Keith's phone flashed the bright message indicating Shiro had not taken his call. If Shiro wasn't on a plane, he could answer the phone. Even with this work emergency, Shiro had time to call his boyfriend. He was throwing the poor man at Keith as a shield. Not only did he lie about their private drive up, but he wasn't going to make it.
The level of anxiety Keith was experiencing at the prospect of driving cross country with an outgoing stranger was akin to walking through a crowded Hard Rock Cafe. Only this time, Keith didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. Was he supposed to send Shiro's boyfriend back home when he couldn't afford transport to Oregon? This was the same man Shiro was dedicating his entire summer off to. Obviously, he meant a lot to Shiro...
Ugh. Keith had to be nice to him.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath during the beat of silence between songs.
"Keith!?"
Keith looked over, making eye contact with... Well, a Smoakin' Cuban. I bisexual one, as it was. Keith quickly scolded himself. Obviously, he wasn't going to hit on Shiro's boyfriend. He wasn't going to dream about him either, but this... kid, was Keith's type. Not in a petty way. But he was young. Younger than Keith. Barely eighteen. Keith never thought Shiro would go for anyone so much younger than him.
Keith swallowed.
Lance McClain.
It all came rushing back to him in a painful blur of dizziness; the kid not even a year under Keith—the one in his class at the Garrison. He had been taller than Keith by an inch or two at the time, but that was no longer the case. His face was younger now than it was then (if that was even possible). He was lankier then, too. Not as confident or comfortable in his own body.
Keith's chest tightened. Old emotions resurfaced in a storm of bitter fury. It was like Keith hadn't spent years forgetting. The awkward boy who hit on every girl was now confident and out of the closet—his shields down. Keith felt a dull ache in his knuckles; a painful reminder of everything that happened the day he left.
Lance's brows were furrowed. His cheek was pinched to the left in some combination of anger and reservation. It occurred to Keith that Lance had no way to know that Keith's anger wasn't directed at him. He took great care to wipe the hateful expression from his face, recognizing he failed.
Lance folded his strong arms across his chest. "Keith Kogane," Lance said, pronouncing Keith's last name correctly. "Nope. No, you—No, no, no. No, you are not Shiro's brother."
Keith said the only stupid thing he could think of. "Who are you?"