Work Text:
The stack of tabloids hit the counter with a sharp thwack . Romelle fanned them out in front of Keith.
Even from his position in front of the mirror, it was easy to read the headlines.
“Lotor’s Daddy Issues Hits Eighth Week at Number 1”
“Kinkade Opens Up About Modeling, Love, and Burgeoning Directing Career”
“James Griffin’s MFE: Recon One Breaks Box Office Records”
“Get those away from me. I don’t need to see them, especially not five minutes before I go on stage.” He leaned in towards the mirror again, trying to seem invested in fixing his makeup.
Romelle rolled her eyes and pushed him back in his seat.
“Stop that. We both know your makeup is flawless. That’s why you pay me the big bucks. Let’s talk about this .” She gestured down at the magazines again. “It’s much more interesting.”
“Nothing to talk about, Melly.”
“Nothing to— Oh my god... Keith. Three exes. One chart-topping singer, one GQ cover model, one ‘world’s hottest’ actor.” She ticked off each on her fingers. “There’s plenty to talk about here.”
“What do you want me to say? ‘Wow, it sure is great that all my exes are wildly successful. I’m so glad they dumped me so they could truly live their best lives.’”
Romelle frowned. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all.”
“I’m already getting pressure from Coran to find someone new. He thinks that I just need a sweet little starlet to settle down with, and all my problems will be solved.” Keith started fussing with his hair. “He’s been pushing me towards this bubbly pop star I’ve never even met before.”
Romelle smacked Keith’s hand away from his perfectly styled hair, only to play with it herself.
“It’s just... I don’t know. If I’m going to date somebody, I’d rather be with someone, well, normal. Someone who’s not going to be in the tabloids every day. Someone grounded.”
“I think you’re in the wrong profession to meet someone grounded.”
Sometimes I think I’m in the wrong profession, period. The thought threatened to spill from Keith’s lips, an admission that he knew he couldn’t vocalize.
A tech popped his head into the dressing room. “One minute, Keith.”
“Thanks, Frankie.” With a last glance in the mirror, Keith stood and adjusted his jacket.
Romelle smiled. “Have fun out there. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me? Never.”
***
“Remind me again why I let you talk me into this?” Someone elbowed Shiro as he struggled to follow Lance through the crowd.
“You owed me one, remember?” Lance retorted.
Shiro remembered. If he had known Lance was going to drag him to a crowded mosh pit, he would never have asked him to come to that cosmology symposium with him.
“I could be in bed right now,” Shiro thought, “curled up with Smythe’s newest novel, a cup of tea in my hands...”
Lance stopped abruptly, and Shiro, lost in his daydream, nearly tripped over him.
“The perfect spot.”
Shiro had to take Lance’s word for it. In his opinion, the perfect spot—if he had to be here—would have been back closer to the bar where there were actual seats and fewer people, but he didn’t have much say in the matter.
“Here.” Lance shoved the poster he had been carrying into Shiro’s hands. “I have to pee.” He was gone before Shiro had a chance to say anything.
Shiro studied the poster he was now holding.
MARRY ME.
He rolled his eyes. The proposal was emblazoned in a glittery pink and decorated with little hearts. “Who brings a sign like this to an alt rock concert?” Shiro wondered, suddenly self conscious. He didn’t want to be here in the first place, but he certainly didn’t want to be here, covered in glitter and carrying an embarrassing sign that drew more attention than he would have liked.
He wanted to drop out of existence, to fade into the background with every single odd look he received. He wanted to explain to every single person around him that it wasn’t his sign, that he was holding it for a friend, that sure, he came to a rock show in dress pants and a tie, but at least he knew better than to bring a gaudy sign dripping in pink glitter.
The sweeping sound of an electric violin interrupted his meltdown. He raised his head slowly as the violin was joined by the husky timbre of the lead singer.
Suddenly, the vocalist was all he could think about.
He cradled the microphone like a lover, his eyes closed as he sang. Every word that graced his lips had an irresistible pull, drawing Shiro in like a siren’s song.
The man himself was a vision in black leather. His hair was perfectly mussed, styled but in a way that seemed like he just had a very good night with someone incredibly lucky.
When the chorus hit, the man opened his eyes and smiled as he took in the crowd. For a split second, his eyes caught Shiro’s. He glanced at the accursed poster still in Shiro’s hands and winked. Shiro swore his heart stopped. He stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, for the rest of the song.
“What’s up, Seattle?” the singer greeted the crowd. “As you know, we are Paladins of Voltron and we are so excited to be here with you tonight.”
Shiro would listen to this man read a telephone book.
“But before we can play another song for you, there’s something that I need to say. To the man who wore a tie to a rock concert: yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
***
Keith knew he was going to get burned for this, but he stopped giving a shit a long time ago. He motioned to security, asking them to part the sea of people that stood between him and the handsome man with the sign. They guided the man towards him, bringing him up onto the stage without having to be told twice.
As the man drew closer, Keith realized that “handsome” was an inaccurate description. The man was gorgeous . His hair was combed back out of his steel-grey eyes and his jaw looked like it had been chiseled from stone. The suit he was wearing fit him perfectly, tight in all the right places. He was every inch a walking wet dream. Even the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose did nothing to detract from the man’s good looks. If anything, it made him even more stunning, adding a rugged masculinity to his already attractive face.
He shook his head a little, trying hard to not get swept up in the man’s handsome features.
“Pidge!” he called to the drummer, who rolled her eyes and sauntered over to the front of the stage.
“I didn’t exactly become an ordained minister so that you could marry one of your fans on stage during the middle of a concert,” she grumbled, shooting daggers at him and the stranger, who was looking more bewildered than ever.
“You became an ordained minister because you were bored and didn’t want to study for finals, Pidge.” Keith covered the microphone to whisper. “It’s not like you experienced a higher calling or anything.”
Pidge’s glare intensified.
“Fine. Do you, Keith, take this random handsome stranger to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Keith took the man’s hands as Pidge spoke, smiling and rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles in what he assumed was a comforting manner.
“I do.” He beamed at the man, who still looked uncertain about this turn of events.
“And do you, random handsome stranger—”
“Shiro. Uh. Takashi Shirogane. But everyone calls me—”
“Do you, Takashi Shirogane, take Keith to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Pidge continued, her voice monotone.
“I... I guess so?” Shiro’s eyes were wide.
“Ah, true love.” Pidge turned back to Keith. “You may now kiss the groom.”
Keith wrapped an arm around Shiro’s waist, pulling him closer. The crowd roared its approval.
“Is this alright?” he whispered. Shiro nodded, breathless. With a grin and a flourish, Keith dipped Shiro back and kissed him. It was over too soon, and at the same time, seemed to last for eternity. Keith found himself lost in the kiss, wanting to keep himself pressed against this man—this Takashi Shirogane— for as long as Shiro would let him.
It was Allura that broke the spell, coughing and tapping her bow against her thigh impatiently.
“Oh... um...” Shiro floundered, searching for words he didn’t quite know existed.
“Why don’t you go chill backstage for a little while? I have a feeling you probably don’t want to go back to the pit after that,” Keith said, his voice soft and low. He took a breath and turned to face the audience. “My husband, everyone! Takashi Shirogane!”
Over the noise of the crowd, no one noticed a man running back from the bathroom, struggling to buckle his belt as he shouted.
“It wasn’t even his sign! ... And it was for Allura! ”
***
Shiro couldn’t stop pacing. Every minute he was backstage was another minute that he spent freaking out about what just happened. He just married a rock star. On stage. In front of a huge crowd . This wasn’t exactly what he had planned on doing when Lance dragged him out tonight. Oh god. Lance. Lance was never going to let him live this one down.
The door opened suddenly, forcing Shiro from his downwards spiral. Keith stood in the threshold, his shoulders slumped and his head held low, clearly exhausted from the performance. Here, away from the crowd and the lights and the flashing cameras, he seemed more real, more human. With everything stripped away, he just seemed... lonely. He was still the most gorgeous man Shiro had ever seen, but he seemed softer somehow, more approachable.
“I’m sorry.”
Shiro hadn’t been expecting that. He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an apology.
“You... you didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry.” Keith paused, biting his lip. “Can I come in?”
The question left Shiro even more confused than before. “I mean, it’s your dressing room?”
Keith nodded and made his way over to the couch, flopping down and closing his eyes before he started to talk again.
“I’ve just been under so much pressure lately—to find someone, to settle down, to be the perfect boyfriend—and it’s all for show. They just want more to report to the tabloids and I’m sick of it. So I saw your sign and I saw a way out of all of it. No more blind dates, no more decisions made for me, no more pressure .”
He rubbed his hands over his face and let out a deep sigh, as if the words had been something he had been holding back but couldn’t keep contained anymore.
“Anyway,” Keith continued, “I doubt that was actually legally binding, so don’t worry. You’re not actually mine ‘til death do us part.”
A small, ridiculous part of Shiro’s brain thought that being Keith’s didn’t sound like such a bad thing. He was relieved, though. He always thought when he got proposed to, it would be some sweeping romantic gesture by a man who he had loved for years.
“I have a confession,” Shiro started. “That sign... wasn’t mine.” Keith sat upright and turned to face Shiro, his brow furrowed. Shiro refused to look at Keith and instead focused his attention on his fingernails as he continued, “I was holding it for my friend, Lance. I think the sign was for Allura?”
Keith continued to stare. After a long silence, he began to laugh. “Well, I really fucked that one up, didn’t I? Anything else I should know?”
“Um... I may have needed to google you once I was backstage?”
Keith only laughed harder.
“You’re telling me,” he said between bursts of laughter, “that I managed to pick the one guy out of the crowd who had no idea who I was? God, that’s just too good.”
Shiro grinned as Keith cracked up. He didn’t really know the man, but he had a feeling that it had been a long time since he had laughed like this.
Once Keith’s laughter died down, the two fell into an oddly comfortable silence, each contemplating what to say next.
“You know,” Shiro said slowly, nervously avoiding Keith’s stare. “I—well. It might be a little too early for marriage, but... do you think a date’s out of the question?” He raised his head to finally meet Keith’s eyes.
Keith smiled and Shiro felt he could have spent forever basking in its warmth.
“I think a date would be perfect.”
***
Several Years Later
Romelle flipped through the tabloid with a sigh. “This one claims that your boyfriend is in a secret, illicit relationship with a theoretical physicist that he works with.”
“Who, Slav ? That’s fucking hilarious, send that one to Shiro.” Keith double checked his makeup in the mirror.
“Stop that,” Romelle said, not even bothering to look up from the magazine. “It’s flawless and you know it.”
“Sorry, Melly. Just anxious.”
“You’ve got nothing to be anxious about. You’ve done this hundreds of times. You’ll perform an amazing set, sign some autographs, and then be back in the arms of your loving astrophysicist. Same as usual.”
Frankie rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, as he had done so many times before.
“One minute, Keith.”
One minute. He could do this.
“Have fun. Don’t do anything stupid,” Romelle said, her pre-show warning to Keith now more of a good luck wish.
Keith pulled her up from her seat into a tight hug, holding her close for as long as he could.
“Thanks, Romelle. For everything.”
“You’re acting weird. You’re not dying, are you?” Romelle mumbled into Keith’s shoulder.
Keith laughed. “Nope. Not dying. Not yet, anyway.”
He kissed the top of Romelle’s head and pulled away.
“Gotta go. See you later, Mel.”
He walked down the hall quickly and took a deep breath before making his way onto the stage. The rest of the band was waiting for him, ready for the show to start.
The sound from Allura’s electric violin filled the concert hall as Keith adjusted the microphone and began to sing.
It was a familiar song, one he had sung too many times to count. He closed his eyes as he sang, losing himself in the melody. The song was one of misguided love and loss, of sorrow and heartache. Keith didn’t really resonate with it anymore, not like he did so many years ago, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to put his heart and soul into his performance.
As the song came to a close, he opened his eyes and searched the audience for a familiar face. It wasn’t often Shiro was able to come to a concert, not with his busy schedule, but Keith had made him promise to be here tonight. He found him quickly, standing in the front near the stage and cheering loudly. Keith felt calm, his anxiety still present, but muted for a moment.
“What’s up, Seattle?” Keith called to the crowd. The crowd roared in response.
“We’re Paladins of Voltron and we’re so glad we could be here with you tonight.” He waited a moment for the crowd to settle down before continuing. “But before we get started, I have something I need to do.”
Keith bent down and picked up a piece of posterboard that he’d placed on stage before the audience arrived. Behind him, Allura and Pidge exchanged a confused look.
As he raised it high, the pink glitter sparkled in the spotlight.
“To the man who wore a tie to a rock concert... will you marry me?”