Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2018-10-05
Words:
1,855
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
11
Kudos:
178
Bookmarks:
15
Hits:
1,218

anything you say (can be held against you)

Summary:

Sometimes, Keith didn’t mind getting a parking ticket. Just sometimes.

Work Text:

Son of a bitch.

With a huff, Keith slammed a hand against the steering wheel. The horn blared, but the officer walking up to the driver’s side window didn’t seem bothered. He bent down to peer in at Keith, ticket at the ready.

“Second time in two days. That’s got to be a record.”

Keith grumbled and took the speeding ticket from the officer’s hands.

“Thanks, Officer...” he squinted at the cop’s name tag, “Shirogane. I’ll be more careful next time.” The sentiment fell flat as he crumpled the ticket into a ball and tossed it into the cupholder. He flashed a grin up at the officer, who cleared his throat and adjusted his cap. A few locks of white hair fell down around his face.

A traitorous part of his brain admitted he was good-looking -  if you were into uptight assholes who failed to understand speed limits were for the elderly and those learning how to drive. Under normal circumstances, he’d be Keith’s type: tall, broad-shouldered, built like a brick shithouse. If the officer weren’t currently slapping him with a $150 fine, Keith could picture him using his strength to push him down and pin him to the floor, maybe slap him in other ways.

“Alright, well… be sure to pay those off within the next ninety days. I hope I don’t see you anytime soon.” He smiled at his own little joke and walked back to his squad car.

Keith smacked the wheel again, this time frustrated for an entirely different reason.

***

“So you’ve just been, what, taunting him?” Lance asked, gesturing vaguely with his entire milkshake.

“Lance, it’s like he’s got some sort of weird sixth sense. After he pulled me over on Monday, I’ve seen him seven other times. He’s given me four tickets. I saw him in the grocery store,” he hissed, setting his soda with more force than he intended as he leaned in towards Lance.

“He was buying almond milk ,” Keith spat the words out like said almond milk personally offended him. “What kind of health nut…”

Lance rolled his eyes and chewed on his straw. “I didn’t know that piece of shit you call a car could even go five miles an hour.”

“And yet, she could still kick your Nissan’s ass.”

The door to the diner swung open with a small jingle. For a moment, it seemed like time had slowed to a crawl, as if his life were a scene from some cheesy, clichéd romcom. Officer Shirogane took off his hat and followed the waitress to a booth in the back of the diner. Keith fumbled with his soda.

Lance followed Keith’s gaze, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the man’s well-kept uniform.

“Is – is that him?” He gestured over his shoulder to where Shirogane was sitting. “And you were trying to tell me you don’t want him to bend you over and –”

“I am going to end you. They will never find your body.”

“I don’t think that’ll go over well with your boyfriend, dude. Something about maintaining the peace and all that shit.”

Keith rolled his eyes.

“You know I’m right. You want to ride that man like a …” he hesitated, struggling to come up with the appropriate analogy. “I don’t know. Like something you ride.”

Keith lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously, Lance? You can’t think of any way to finish that sentence? Oh my god.”

He ducked beneath the table, knocking over his glass as Shirogane walked towards their table.

Lance kicked Keith, a swift hit to the knee. “He’s just going to the bathroom, dumbass. You can crawl out from under there now.”

Not trusting Lance, Keith peered up over the edge of the table. “We can never come here again.”

***

A few weeks ago, Lance had accused Keith of taunting Shirogane. He had laughed it off, insisting that it was just coincidence that they kept running into each other. Now, though, he was pretty sure that’s exactly what he was doing: taunting.

He’s not quite sure how it happened. One moment, he was driving the speed limit, the next, he had caught sight of Shirogane’s squad car and slammed on the gas. It hadn’t taken Shirogane long to pull him over.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Mr. Buchanan.” Shiro folded his arms on Keith’s window, bending forward to be on eye-level. He cocked his hips and Keith caught himself imagining what that particular pose looked like from behind

“Hey, Officer Shirogane,” he managed to say, somehow speaking past the dryness in his throat. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Honestly, you should probably just call me Shiro. I feel like we’re there now. We’ve reached that point.” Shiro pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and started to scribble out yet another ticket.

“Shiro.” Keith let the name fall from his lips, learning the way it rolled off his tongue. He grinned to himself, oddly content with another ticket if he meant he could call Officer Shirogane, Shiro

“That’s me.” Shiro continued to write. “I mean, I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to keep on giving you tickets, but …” He shrugged and passed the slip of paper to Keith, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah…” Keith couldn’t focus on the ticket, not when he had noticed Shiro had a dimple on the left side of his face when he smiled. Suddenly, that was all that mattered.

“Normally, I’d tell you not to let it happen again, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

Keith hated that dimple.

***

At this point, Keith had it down to a science. Drive his ancient Chevy just a little too fast down Lone Trail Road anytime after four, and after a few minutes, he’d see Shiro’s squad car in his rear-view mirror. He knew he was going to regret it, once he actually stopped to think about how much he had paid in fines over the past couple of months.

This time, though, no one tried to pull him over. Keith frowned and pulled his car around. Shiro was parked in his usual spot, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and staring intently at the deserted road before him.

Keith sped past the spot again, hoping to see familiar lights flashing in his mirrors. Nothing. He pulled to a stop, checking to make sure the road was empty before throwing the car into reverse and driving backward past Shiro. Still nothing.

He swerved and stalled, putting his car through its paces in order to draw Shiro’s attention. He cranked the radio, letting a heavy metal station blast “Chop Suey!” out of his open windows so loudly that Keith felt the bass in his teeth. He propped his feet up on the dashboard as he drove, a stunt that only lasted for a few seconds before he realized he had overestimated his flexibility.

Shiro didn’t bat an eyelash.

“I swear to god …” Keith muttered, slapping the radio off. He pulled up behind the squad car and slowed to a crawl. The speedometer’s needle barely hovered off of zero as he let his car bump into Shiro’s, gently rocking both cars.

It seemed to be enough. Shiro threw his door open and stomped over to Keith’s window.

“Get out.” All of the playful formality Keith was used to had dropped from his voice. Shiro’s tone was razor sharp. It cut through Keith, a carving knife ripping through his gut. Without a second thought, he stepped out of his car. Shiro wouldn’t hurt him, Keith knew that, but his tone left no room for disobedience.

Shiro looked down at Keith, eyes narrowed.

“I know you think this is a game, but this is my job . Every second I’m dealing with you is time I could be focusing on something actually important.” He stepped closer, crowding Keith against the car.

Keith was at a loss. He didn’t know what had changed, what had pushed Shiro to the tipping point.

“Did … did something happen?”

Shiro’s words remained steely. “I was late to an armed robbery because I was dealing with you . People could have been hurt. I was distracted. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know -”

“Why are you messing with me in the first place?” His voice rose as his frustrations mounted. “Do you think it’s cute? My job is on the line and I won’t lose it because some pretty boy is being an asshole .”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Keith stood still, watching as Shiro turned bright red and took a step back. He turned his head and focused his attention on some point beyond Keith.

“Shit. I, uh, didn’t mean to say that. I’m still mad at you.”

“I swear, I never meant to keep you away from something actually important. But,” he smiled up at Shiro, “you think I’m pretty?” Keith moved towards the officer, closing the distance between them.

“I – I don’t know why I said that. Point is, I don’t have time to deal with you.” He scowled, unsure of how he had lost control of the situation so quickly.

“Yeah, well, you’re dealing with me now.” Keith smirked, proud of himself.

“Such a brat…”

If Lance asked him about it later, Keith wouldn’t be able to tell him exactly how he found himself pressed face down into the rusted paint of his car, Shiro’s hands keeping his own locked behind his back. Not that Keith would tell him, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t tell him about how much he found himself enjoying it. The way Shiro’s body pressed up against his own, effortlessly pinning him down, was almost more than Keith could stand. The places where their bodies touched felt as if it had been set afire, but Keith had no desire to pull away. He would gladly let himself burn if it meant touching Shiro for a little longer.

“I really ought to arrest you.” Shiro’s words were a growl . “Obstruction of justice. Disturbing the peace. Reckless driving. Put you in handcuffs and haul you down to the station. That is, unless you can play nice .”  

“Yes, sir. Officer Shirogane, sir.” Keith smirked.

Shiro dropped his hands and took a step back. His cheeks were flushed a gorgeous pink that contradicted the confidence he had just used to pin Keith to his car. Keith thought the color suited him.

“I’m letting you off with a ticket, Mr. Buchanan. But know that next time I won’t be forgiving,” Shiro said, even as he was fighting back a smile.

He retrieved the familiar pad of paper and wrote quickly, handing the ticket to Keith without another word. He walked back to his squad car and took a deep breath, taking off his hat and running a hand through his fringe before climbing back into his car and driving away.

It wasn’t until after Shiro had driven off that Keith looked down at the paper Shiro had handed him. Written at the bottom, signed and dated, was a phone number and a small note telling him to stay out of trouble.

Keith grinned.