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“Hunk, when you asked me to help you, I didn’t think it was to play the waiter at the ‘dumb model and his lesbian friend’ opening exhibition!” Keith sighed, a silver tray full of Champagne flutes in his hand. “And what’s wrong with your face?” He asked as he saw his friend freeze, some face muscles twitching as if he was having a stroke.
“That might be my fault” a soft baritone voice whispered next to Keith’s ear. “Also, last time I checked, Allura was bisexual so you can try your luck if that’s your deal.”
Keith turned his head slowly and, of course, Takashi Shirogane was standing there, making sure Keith knew he had heard him loud and clear. He gulped, sending a panicked gaze at Hunk that was answered with a glare and a shrug that meant ‘ I don’t know how to get you out of this one but if you survive I’m gonna kill you myself… maybe ’ and promptly left for the kitchen.
“I’m not- That’s not my deal-” Keith’s brain supplied instead of something more helpful like an apology. For example.
They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity in Keith’s mind, Shirogane giving him a once-over before grabbing two flutes and smiling as he left, a resonant “Good” coming from him, repeating itself loudly in Keith’s ears.
What the hell was that?
Soon, he was swamped with work as he swirled between rich, sometimes popular, guests although he had no idea who was who. He just knew Allura Alfor was the white-haired one, the artist, and that Takashi Shirogane was somehow a famous model that had collaborated with her on several portraits and sculptures, and he had white hair too. If the marble statue of him in the middle of the room triumphantly making him look like Adonis was any indication, he also had a body to drool over.
And Keith had called him dumb. A magnificent first impression indeed.
As the party dragged on, the guests started to retreat one by one, leaving Keith with fewer people to serve. He took a quick break on a small couch, distant from the main party, in front of the only painting not signed by Allura.
The painting had intrigued him all night. A huge square, mostly black, but you could see the angry strokes all over until it started to get gentler around the edges where black faded to purple. Keith knew a bit about art but in the more traditional sense, not the modern, contemporary style but he liked Allura’s realism and this anonymous canvas still.
“Are you looking at it because it’s in front of your pretty face or is it something else?” The smooth thick-like-honey voice asked and Keith recognized it immediately.
Surely enough, Shirogane was standing next to the painting, leaning casually against the wall with his arm and prosthetic crossed against his massive chest.
“I like it.” Keith shrugged, eyes stubbornly glued on the art.
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know…” Keith trailed off, trying to find the right words to do the painting justice. “It seems dark and enraged at first. The strokes, they look like the artist was struggling with where to go. But in the end, there’s hope with how the black gives way to purple. As if they’re finally escaping all that darkness. It feels like the first piece of a collection, with brighter and brighter colors as the artist finds their path toward some kind of happiness?”
Keith blinked out of his explanation, taking a look at Shirogane only to see a strange smile adorning the model’s lips. “You’re the first one to interpret it that way.”
“Am I? I don’t know shit about contemporary art, I’m no expert.”
“Me either, I’m the dumb model remember?” Shirogane chuckled and winked at him. “But I like your analysis of the piece, and I think Allie would too. Sure you don’t want me to introduce you?”
“What? No, I’m just- No.” Keith dismissed the offer grabbing back his tray to end his impromptu break and collect the empty flutes dropped everywhere, with Shirogane hot on his tail.
“You’re just…? Yeah, what are you when you’re not insulting the hosts of your friend’s catering?”
Now Keith was starting to blush and to get pissed off. Conflicting emotions he had no idea how to react to.
“I’m a landscaper.” He groaned and hoped it would be Shirogane’s first and last question about him.
“Oh, I see.”
And that was it. He knew the model was still following him but that’s all he said regarding Keith’s answer. He turned suddenly, almost hitting the man with his full tray, risking the precarious balance of the empty flutes on it. He frowned and searched into the man’s smiling steel-gray eyes.
“No, you don’t?” Keith wasn’t sure, to be honest. He wanted to firmly believe that the man wasn’t very bright so it would be easier to leave his silly crush -fully based on his looks, to be honest- at the door but it was like he was trying too hard to meet Keith’s stereotype.
“Right, I’m just a model after all.” Shirogane shrugged and worse still, it felt like it was a line he used to repeat, without any sarcasm this time.
“So, how do we proceed? Do I give you my number or do you give me yours?” He asked when Keith came back from the kitchen with a tray full of desserts this time. Shiro popped a mini lemon meringue pie into his mouth and licked his fingers in a completely obscene way, his eyes locked on Keith’s. “Or do I just blow you in the restroom?”
“The fuck?!” Keith choked and almost lost his balance, which would have sent his full tray flying and landing on the few guests left. But Shirogane’s heavy palms were on his waist quick enough and he even had the audacity to laugh before leaving a dumbfounded Keith standing alone.
“Too bad. Another time maybe.” He sent a wink in Keith’s direction as he walked back to Allura’s side and whispered something in her ear, the woman zeroing on Keith the next second.
It scared Keith enough to race backward into the kitchen and beg Hunk to keep him hidden until it was time to clean up and leave. Being a merciful friend, Hunk obliged.
Allura Alfor came herself to thank Hunk for his impeccable service and gave Keith a discreet but knowing look before leaving.
They wrapped up everything quickly, Hunk’s team used to these kinds of events.
When Keith was finally released, zipping his red leather jacket as he took a step out, with the first breath of the night spring air, his brain pushed back the thoughts of that strange encounter.
*****
“No Miss Ezor, I can’t do that.” Keith said firmly but faltered almost immediately “I- but you don’t- Alright… Yeah, yeah alright I’ll see what I can do.” Keith sighed as he hung up the phone and looked at his associate, frowning heavily while rubbing his jaw.
“What is it this time?” Matt asked, knowing that this particular client was quite a chipper but difficult one.
“She wants a garden as she saw in a movie, with topiaries and fountains and if I were to listen to her I should also magically find a place for a gazebo too. But you remember the space we have to work with.”
“Yeah I know” Matt chuckled. “What are you gonna do? It’s one of our first big clients, we can’t really disappoint her…”
Keith knew he had ‘lost’ a chance at the exhibition. He could have left his business cards somewhere near the buffet but he didn’t want to go around advertising his business via a friend he was giving a helping hand.
“I’ll just cram everything into the tiny yard.” He started angrily but sat at his desk and took out the drawings he had created so far. It was his job, after all, to create magic in some of the smallest spaces. “I’ll just have to do some overtime I guess” he shrugged and started to erase most of his original idea. He would offer digital designs too but preferred to start with paper and pencils.
“Keith…”
“Don’t. I know what you’re gonna say but we have to see this one till the end or else we’ll never pay the bills.”
“Okay man… but I can help, you know?”
“You have to work on your own design for Acxa and that is another contract we don’t want to lose.”
They both nodded, determined in their future success and worked in silence for most of the afternoon till Pidge, Matt’s sister working in the family flower shop down the block, came in with a huge bouquet of purple Clematis.
“Keith, this came in for you!”
Keith rose from his desk at light speed and blinked in surprise. He helped her with the bouquet, putting it on a nearby table and she disappeared without a word, leaving the boys with a million questions.
“Is there a card?” Matt asked.
There was. Keith plucked it from the bouquet and almost fell as he read it.
“ If you know the meaning of those you should understand who’s the sender. That is if you’re thorough in your job. ”
Art. Mental beauty. That was the meaning of Clematis and they could have only been sent by Shirogane.
Matt was about to ask why Keith was beet red when Pidge came in again with another smaller bouquet in each hand of Circaea and Ragged Robin. Fascination and Wit. On this card was just a phone number.
“You can only call if you tell me who’s your admirer. It was their request. If you call and I don’t specify them you’ve found the answer, no one will pick up.” Pidge stated, all smug as she arranged the flowers in a vase she had brought with her and placed it on a small coffee table in their storefront. It was an amazingly wild sight and Keith was stammering quietly.
“Shirogane…” he cleared his throat trying to remember how to breathe. “Takashi Shirogane.”
Pidge nodded, sent a text and looked at Keith with another smug smile when she got an answer almost immediately. “You’re good. You can call for your last gift. I heard it’s a big one so I’m gonna hang out with you guys.” And without asking she jumped on Matt’s desk, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Keith’s legs were trembling, his hands shaking too when he dialed the number. Did Shirogane give him his personal number? But he was soon surprised by the voice answering, asking if the address he had was the correct one and that he’d be here in five minutes.
“Keith, what the hell? Couldn’t you find a normal person to seduce? No, you had to pick the hottest model on the market. I should have said yes to Hunk when he asked me” Matt grumbled while Keith was silent, looking at the flowers with a suspicious look.
“Matt, please, Shirogane is way out of your league” Pidge snickered.
“And Keith is not?!” He asked offended but never got the answer when a delivery man arrived with a huge flat square package wrapped in protective brown paper.
Keith signed for it but probably would never have opened it if his friends wouldn’t have pushed him to do it. He knew exactly what it was.
There was a letter with the box, and he let Pidge and Matt carefully discover the painting as he read it. This one was handwritten- neat letters on smooth beige paper as if they were in another century.
“Dear Keith,
Everyone got it wrong but you. Allura pushed me to put it in the gallery but I was unsure I should sign it. I didn’t want to give the image of the sad Takashi Shirogane. I get that enough every day when people look at my arm with pity. You scored many points that night on that specific matter, by the way.
You understood my painting, not knowing I was the one that created it. You looked at it with the eyes of someone unbiased, fresh, and without pompous comparisons. I have no intention and never had the intention to sell it. I think it’s right that it becomes yours, now. And who knows, maybe I really will have to start a collection.
I’m sorry if I had been unsubtle with you that night, I just wanted to get back at you for your introductory comment, which I think you did not wholly believe when you spoke it. At least that is my selfish hope.
I would like to know you better Keith Kogane because you not only are a lovely creature but because of what’s inside that brain of yours. I’ve watched you looking at all the other pieces. Your mind had an opinion on each, your eyes were revealing softness on the more complicated and delicate ones. But I’ve been hurt in the past by people who only wanted me for my outside appearance more than what is inside of me. I felt your eyes on me and as selfish as it is for me to wish you don’t think about me just as a “dumb model”, I can’t deny the words you said and that maybe I’m wrong and you really are believing them. It wouldn’t be the first time I misjudged someone.
I’ll be in Europe for a while so I thought, as cliché as it is, that we could write to each other. I found your professional email address but you might not want me to flood you with my nonsense.
If that is something you’d like to do anyway, you’ll find my own email attached to this letter. And who knows, when I come back to the US maybe I’ll convince you to take me up on my last offer at the party.
Takashi Shirogane.”
Several emotions went through Keith’s heart as he reread the letter later that night. They had hung the painting behind Keith’s desk, the Holts thinking it made their office suddenly more professional and more than just desks and papers scattered around a room. They had grilled Keith during the rest of their office hours but without results- if only because Keith had no idea what had just happened.
In his bed with the letter covering his face, trying to assess the situation he finally realized he had been wrong and that Shiro was right, Keith quickly had stopped believing his own cliché words that night.
Clearly, the flowers, the painting, the letter- those were not the gifts of a dumb man. On the contrary, Keith had just been swept off his feet by a model that for sure knew how to seduce someone and how to use his words.
Keith sat bolt upright as he grabbed his phone and entered the email address. “When are you leaving, let me at least send you a gift of my own to thank you, Mister Shirogane” The man had insisted that he never considered selling the picture and that giving it to Keith was more an honor than anything else because it was now with someone that understood it but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be polite and thank this generous, gorgeous man.
It was late but the answer came almost immediately.
“ You don’t have to,” Shirogane said but he attached the address of his agency along with the words anyway. Curious. “ If you really wish to though, you have 48 hours. After that, I won’t be able to discover for myself what it is. And please call me Shiro, for now. ”
The next morning, the Holt flower shop was barely open when Keith placed a rush order for Cattleya Orchids. “Mature charms, hm?” Colleen had teased him, obviously aware of what was going on. “You young men are forcing me to order quite specific flowers, but it’s fun. When you run a shop like this for as long as I have, you can sometimes get tired of roses.” she chuckled and confirmed to Keith he would get them before Shiro would leave.
He got a picture the next day. “ Are you calling me old? ” But Shiro was in the frame along with the beautiful flowers and a smile as bright as the sun.
*****
Days went by swiftly after that. They would write to each other a few times a day at first with the usual questions: music, movies, books, art- since that was the reason they had met the first time. Their exchanges became longer and longer with time. Once, Shiro had sent him a picture of Oxeyes when Keith had whined about being forced to be off from work to be able to answer him properly. “ Patience yeah right, like that’s your thing. May I remind you that you seemed a little impatient to see parts of my anatomy that night? ”
“ Patience yields focus is my motto, my darling Keith. ”
Which seemed true enough for Keith if the number of days and time they had spent just corresponding together even with Shiro back in the country was any indication.
It didn’t take much for Keith to fall completely for the man’s charms and prose. For what was inside of him. Sometimes it scared him how much it seems strong, all these butterflies in his stomach going into an endless frenzy when that specific ping signaled Keith he had an email, especially a long one.
“ My dearest Keith,
Have I told you how I met Allie? I think I have neglected to, and I think that’s a story you might like. Or at least it’s one that is important to me. And it’s clear that you’re getting more and more important to me too, so it feels only right now to disclose this, just like I told you about my arm.
We met in college actually. She was looking for models to pose for her. You’ve seen her. The number of guys just wanting to get naked in front of her to get in her bed was gigantic. A friend of mine knew her and her struggles so, knowing of my preferences, my friend coaxed me into contacting her. She had heard of me, I had done some ads already and she seemed interested but understandably cautious.
Remember the first words we exchanged, you and I? Well, they were actually quite similar in some ways.
We set a date to meet in a coffee shop near the campus and her workshop, I arrived on time and she was already there. Now comes the best part. I greeted her with a firm handshake and a “Hi, I’m gay! I mean I’m Takashi Shirogane and I’m 101% gay” to which she replied with that smile of hers- I’m sure you saw it that night. “Hi Gay, I’m Allura Alfor, I mean I’m bi and you’re my new muse I guess!”
Well, now that I’m telling the story it doesn’t sound as funny as it was at the moment but I must add that I was so nervous that I might have spoken a bit too loudly and every single person had turned their heads toward us. We also both got a few numbers by the time we decided to leave.
So you weren’t completely wrong in your first statement, my lack of confidence in my youth gave me quite the number of dumb moments that I still have to narrate to you.
Yours,
Shiro. ”
Keith had smiled fondly at the story but stopped, breathless at the end of it. Yours. That was new. Shiro would always sign with a quote from a book he was reading or a good word he had heard or came up with but never that way.
While Keith would have usually started his answer straight away, he chose not to that day- and trying to fall asleep, his brain offered him foggy pictures of Shiro as he dreamed. The next morning was his day off and he found himself in the art gallery where everything had started.
His footsteps led him toward the marble statue taking center stage. It was worthy of resting in the Musée du Louvre alongside The Winged Victory of Samothrace- and he had heard from Shiro that Allura had used the same ancient techniques, marble from the quarry of Michelangelo, the same patience and reverence for the medium. The drapery was so thin and precise- the sculpture radiated movement and energy, but there was something else- longing and sorrow, like those heroes the Gods had abandoned to the battlefield.
He was surprised when Allura tilted her head in front of his, pulling him out of his reverie. “Miss him that much?” She teased him as she looked back at her own handiwork.
“I- No… Maybe… I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was mostly admiring the technique.”
“Oh, I know. Shiro has been telling me how much that statue keeps intriguing you. I was wondering when you’d be back so we could actually talk about it. And by doing that, talking about Takashi.” She smiled, that smile Shiro had referred to in his mail, that pull of her lips that gave her a mysterious and playful look. “Come closer, I’ve disabled the alarm, I know you’re dying to get your hands on him.” Of course, that wasn’t said innocently and it made Keith blush but he indeed wanted his fingertips to brush the smooth and cold stone.
The statue suggested the man had fallen, his legs on the floor, slightly bent, holding his upper body away from the ground with his left arm. There was a soft drapery to hide his intimacy but from behind you could see the swell and crack of his rear. He seemed to be cradling his right arm, the one with the prosthetic and from up close his facial expression seemed so pained and sorrowful you could almost imagine that a tear would roll down his cheek.
Keith’s hand started from the foot, up to his calf and knee, a light fingertip grazing the thigh and the marble fabric covering his hip. Veins and musculature so intricate slid beneath his fingers that he could hardly believe it was made from marble at all. He realized he was holding his breath when he reached the side of his bare chest and exhaled slowly as the pads of his fingers lingered on his neck, on the column of his throat, running down his bicep and stopping before the prosthetic.
“Does it scare you?’ Allura asked softly as if she was afraid she’d break some kind of spell.
The young man shook his head but brushed Shiro’s face instead, his thumb wiping his cheekbone and his fingers twitching to reach his hair and run into the soft strands but they weren’t real, just extremely detailed. You would have thought it would take nothing to bring life to him, to bring the pink on his scarred skin. “It doesn’t,” Keith said with a tenderness that was surprising even to his ears.
“When I met Takashi,” Allura crossed her arms as she walked behind the statue to face Keith, ‘Shiro’ between them, “He was starting to be recognized for his modeling, but there was no light in his eyes. We both made ourselves a name in our respective disciplines but this- what you see right in front of you now is actually the first piece I ever made for and with him. Needless to say, he was very reluctant to let me display it, but I thought it was time and I think I was right.”
Keith’s hand was reverent as it went down his left arm and idly played with the motionless fingers. “You captured his pain” he realized.
“I wish I could say that I captured it and kept it so he could enjoy his life. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.” Allura’s hand came to rest on the statue’s thigh, no doubt a comforting gesture had the figure beneath her hand been flesh and blood. “Takashi hurts himself often and I’m not always there to pick up the pieces or to prevent it from happening. I captured a moment in his life where he was adjusting to something no one should go through. I like to think I helped him see himself differently, gave his eyes a little spark of hope and light. The photographs are one thing but they’re always photoshopped. What I aim for is honesty, always.” she ended firmly.
“He said to me once when he talked about his arm, that without you he wouldn’t be the man he is now…”
That made Allura’s cheeks brighten with a soft touch of pink and she chuckled, visibly embarrassed. “Of course he’d say that to you and not me.” The two of them stood quietly on their respective sides, ‘Shiro’ between them, each respectful of the other’s space.
“Why were you waiting for me to come here?” Keith asked finally, lifting his head up to lock his eyes on Allura’s, a delicate frown creasing his brow.
“Let’s call this a test. I wasn’t sure you’d come, but I had a pretty good impression of you from what Taka said to me, but sometimes people are deceitful, they look like one thing but are something else entirely.”
He remembered then vividly Shiro’s first letter he knew by heart now ‘ it wouldn’t be the first time I misjudge someone ’. “Did I pass the test then?” he snorted.
“You’ve never asked to see him even though he’s been here for weeks now. Why?’ She asked instead of answering his query, tilting her head to the side, genuine wonder lighting her cerulean eyes. Her hand left it’s perch on the statues thigh, sliding down to its calf, catching Keith’s attention.
“He wanted to know me better, I think it’s his call to make when he’ll be ready, not mine.” He shrugged, his attention returning to the statue’s hand next to his.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Allura said with a knowing smile as she left the room to entertain another guest that had entered during their conversation.
It wasn’t like Keith wasn’t dying to see Shiro again. In fact, he felt like they were well past the state of ‘getting to know each other better’ but were they friends or more? Some of their exchanges were so teasing it kept Keith awake at night, cheeks flaming red at Shiro’s delicately chosen words. Promises of things only lovers would do but at some points, words could not suffice and Keith was boiling to meet him again, even the cold marble under his fingers did nothing to cool him down.
When he went back home hours later he finally sat at his desk and answered Shiro.
“Dear Shiro,
I met Allura today- you probably know that by now and I think that even if I told her it was your decision to meet me again or not it was a lie in the end and she knew, just like you know, and just like I know. So I’m left with nothing else to say but this:
#F4CA16
Yours,
Keith”
It was a risky move. It was pushing another mystery in Shiro’s hands but he knew the man would quickly work it out. Would he respond to it though, he wasn’t sure even with all the clues in his favor...
*****
Days passed without a word after that last email, and Keith went to the art gallery every day after work, longing for something he wasn’t so sure he could have anymore.
Allura eyed him but didn’t approach him most of the time. Keith had no idea if she was sad for him, worried, or just pitying him. Maybe it wasn’t any of that and it was just his own feelings he saw reflected in her clear blue eyes.
It was on a Friday night though, that he stepped into the gallery rather late and noticed a new painting in place of the one that was decorating his office. A square of the same size, mixing two shades of yellow, intricately, light brushes as if the colors were endlessly dancing round and round with each other, the lighter tone somehow winning in terms of proportions.
“ Indian Jasmine answering to Jonquil ”
Keith felt his knees shaking before buckling, dumping him on the couch behind him.
“You’re clever, I love that about you.” A voice he had heard in his head a million times whispered behind him.
“Don’t act like you’re surprised, I knew you’d get it.” Keith looked up, his head resting on the back of the couch, Shiro’s face mere millimeters away from him when he leaned down to dive into Keith amethyst’s eyes.
“But you weren’t sure I’d respond, looking at your face.”
“I was… yeah alright, I wasn’t sure. I thought I was maybe forcing your hand or something like that.” Keith crossed his arms around his chest, closing his eyes to hide the vulnerability in his words.
“Keith,” Shiro whispered and stroked Keith’s cheek with the back of his index finger, making the young man almost vibrate with the contact. “I was at my limit… I knew it was you and I wanted you for so long now but it seemed fine by you that way. Keith, you didn’t need to ask for a return of affection, I had already given myself to you.” His voice was so sweet and smooth like the hand threading into Keith’s hair and resting on the side of his neck.
Keith turned his head, his lips brushing the man’s wrist, and he kissed the skin softly, holding his breath for a moment as Shiro came around the couch and straddled Keith’s lap, his massive hands cradling his face as Shiro pressed their lips together. Keith was pretty sure Allura wouldn’t exactly enjoy the two of them making out in the middle of the gallery, or maybe she would appreciate it. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was Shiro- this brilliant, beautiful man with a fragile heart he wore on his sleeve and was given to Keith to protect.
When they parted words weren’t needed, they had exchanged so much already, instead, they just sat there watching the painting while holding hands, Keith’s head leaning on Shiro’s shoulder.
“I think I’m going to start a flower-themed collection.” Shiro finally whispered with a triumphant smile.
“What’s next then?”
“Why! Something that means ardent love obviously!” he turned his head as Keith lifted his to roll his eyes.
“You still have to make up to me on that offer at the opening party” Keith winked with playfulness in his tone and eyes.
Shiro perked up immediately and looked around, the gallery was still deserted and he took Keith by the hand, walking toward the bathrooms. “You’re right, so how do we proceed?”