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“They've been under there for like five minutes,” Hunk muses, looking torn between nauseated and vaguely impressed, “I didn't know Keith was that uh... vigorous.”
Pidge grunts as she downs a shot of something green and fizzy, “Yeah, Hunk, that's great and all, but I never needed to know what Matt looks like with someone's tongue down his throat... ever.”
“I think it's kind of sweet,” Allura chimes in from where she leans on Lance's arm, one hand cupping her chin like she's watching cute animals at the zoo, “I had no idea human mating rituals were so intricate.”
“I could show you all about them if they stopped hogging the mistletoe,” Lance grumbles as he side-eyes the pillar Matt and Keith have been leaning under for far longer than social niceties allow.
“Hard pass.” Pidge reaches for another shot without looking away from the side of Hunk's face – the only definitely safe location for her field of view at the moment. “They might be gross, but you'd just be sad.”
“Hey!”
“Eeeh,” Hunk waffles his hand in the air as he looks from the drunken laughing-groping-kissing boys to Lance's puffed up chest and Allura's wide-eyed curiosity, “okay, maybe... at least you know what you're getting with those two.”
“Herpes?” Lance snipes, wrinkling his nose as a particularly loud laugh floats over from the canoodlers. “There's no way those two haven't given each other space pox by now.”
“That's not how you get space pox.” Pidge closes her eyes and reaches for another shot. “Don't ask how I know.”
There's a beat of silence, then another hoot of laughter as Keith gets a double handful of ass and hikes Matt up against the pillar.
“Do you think they know everyone here can see them?” Hunk asks, like the good friend he is, “I feel like maybe we should tell them that we can see them.”
“Oh, they know alright,” Pidge grumbles as she pokes around on the tablet that she's whipped out of nowhere, “I've sent Matt at least ten cease and desist notices.”
“If he has his tablet set to vibrate you're probably only helping,” Lance point out, much to the immediately disgust of everyone. “I'm just sayin'.”
“I hate you.”
She puts the tablet away anyway.
“Do you think maybe we should get the hose?”
Hunk shakes his head. “They're not really at the 'diplomatic incident' level yet, right?”
“Certainly not,” Allura confirms, “by Galra standards they're practically saying hello.”
“Why don't we ever get invited to those parties?” Lance complains with a pout, “It's always these Garrison shindigs where the only ones having any fun are these two schmucks with no concept of personal space.”
“To be fair,” Hunk interjects, waggling his fingers in the general direction of the show, “I think they have an excellent concept of each other's personal space by now.”
“Uuuuuughh.”
“Sorry, Pidge.”
“I never thought I'd have to deal with this,” she complains as she rubs at the bridge of her nose with a growl, “I mean... look at him! Matt is objectively the worst!”
“Don't you two look pretty simi- ow!”
“No.” She glares at Lance, hand hovering at the ready, poised to pinch him again should he continue to blaspheme. “He's adopted.”
“Pidge,” Shiro sighs, finally chiming in from where he's been quietly nursing a cup of nunvill all night, “come on, you love Matt... and he's a good guy.”
“Really, Shiro?” she scoffs and flicks a chunk of her shredded napkin at him, “I thought you of all people might be on my side here.”
Shiro stiffens but ignores the barb as he takes another long pull of his cup. “Unlike some people, I'm choosing to support my friends through all their terrible choices, as usual.”
“You could just go break them up,” Hunk muses, eyeing Shiro's tense form like he's waiting for the glass in his hand to explode at any moment, “you know Keith would rather talk to you than suck face with Matt.”
“Clearly not,” Shiro retorts, dry as desert they're stationed in as he raises a hand to gesture to where Matt's got a leg hooked over Keith's hip, “I'm fairly sure if Keith didn't want to be where he's currently situated, he wouldn't be... he's an adult and can make his own choices.”
Lance snorts and mutters something under his breath.
“Got something to say, Cadet McClain?”
The baleful look his hero turns on him leaves Lance withered, but neither common sense nor self preservation have ever been his forte. “I said... if he can make his own choices... you should probably uh... you should... make the choice available to him...”
Shiro's lips thin out, bloodless, like Lance is about to be.
“Woooow,” Hunk whistles low, nodding his head as he reaches out to pat Lance on the arm, “I think that's the bravest thing you've ever done, buddy.”
“Too bad it's gonna be the last,” Pidge adds, ever helpful.
“I don't quite understand.” Allura looks between the two men, then over at Keith and Matt where they appear to be alternating between kissing and taking shots in some sort of game. “What is Keith choosing, besides to exchange saliva with a colleague?” The rest of the paladins grimace around her. “What, is that not acceptable party behavior? I saw James and Ryan engaging in the same festivities on my way to the punch earlier. Humans are so strange...”
“Yeah but they're like... together,” Lance tries to explain as he flails a hand between them, “like how we're together, except I have way better taste than either of them.”
“And Allura has way worse taste than all of us,” Pidge teases, sticking her tongue out at the couple as Lance throws himself into his girlfriend's arms in a dramatic flounce, “but at least she has the decency not to prove it in public.”
“Yeah, speaking of Mullet, lets get back to dragging him instead of me,” Lance huffs and wraps his arms around Allura, “I think they're shooting for the record for grossest public spectacle.”
Shiro's sigh is a weary thing, clawing up from the depths of his soul as he polishes off his glass and stands. “If you're all going to sit here and talk about him behind his back I think I'm going to head out.”
They at least have the decency to look chagrined as Shiro sweeps his best disappointed look over their table – a small consolation.
“Heh, watch this.”
Or not.
Shiro isn't sure what he's supposed to be watching out for as he straightens his spine and strides toward the exit, looking to make a hasty escape from a thoroughly unpleasant party.
“Shiro, hey!”
Keith's shout gives him pause, enough to turn and offer him a weak wave goodbye. Of course, Keith isn't having any of that – his face is a mask of consternation as he utterly ignores the man at his side – he drops Matt like a hot potato and jogs across the hall toward Shiro.
Or rather, tries to jog. It's closer to a brisk weave with all the shots Shiro has watched him take over the course of the evening. Still, Shiro's no less happy to see him.
“Hi buddy.” He smiles, catching Keith by the shoulder as he stumbles up to him with his huge pouting eyes. “What's wrong?”
“You're leaving?” Keith asks as he tips into him for stability, “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine, bud.”
It's pretty much true, and now is certainly not the time to explain his malaise to the man at his elbow.
“You don't... don't look fine,” Keith squints at him, and Shiro wonders how many copies Keith is seeing of him now, “you look sad... are you sad?”
“Never when you're around,” Shiro jokes, but it comes out a little too earnest for Keith's current state. “I'm just tired.”
“I'm never sad when you're around either.” Those big eyes look up at him in adoration... hazy, drunken adoration. “You're my favorite.”
“I though Matt was your favorite.”
Shiro bites his tongue as soon as the words slip out, Keith doesn't deserve the grumblings of a bitter old man-
“Pffffftt, hah!” The laugh startles Shiro and knocks Keith off balance, forcing him to wrap an arm around that trim waist to keep him from falling over. “Nooo, Matt was tryna' help me.”
“Did you lose your tonsils?”
Keith's brow furrows as he opens his mouth and pokes his finger and tongue around inside, then shakes his head and turns a bewildered look to his very red friend. “No, they're still there... I think.”
Shiro rubs his forehead with his palm and huffs a tired laugh at the ceiling.
“I'm glad to hear that, Keith... what did you need help with?”
“Wanted you to look at me,” Keith chirps, all puffed up and proud of how clever their plan was... before he remembers why he's over there in the first place, “but you didn't... you just sat there and now you're leaving.”
“I'm always looking at you,” Shiro huffs as he wraps his other arm around Keith's waist to anchor his swaying form. “You looked like you were having a good time.”
“Mhmm,” Keith nods and nuzzles into Shiro's shoulder with a silly grin, “heeeee said that... you'd be jeaaalous and come get me... but you didn't.”
“I didn't know you wanted me to,” Shiro rumbles, tucking his chin over Keith's head so he can squint at Matt across the room. Of course, the menace is now perched cheerfully next to his sister, flashing Shiro a double thumbs up with that irritating grin of his. “But you came and got me.”
“Mhmm.” Another hum, this time much more pleased with himself as Keith wraps both arms around Shiro's middle and squeezes tight. “I got you now, you're stuck with me.”
“I'll consider myself lucky then.” Shiro tips down to breathe into the riot of Keith's flippy mane, burying his smile there as he gives his shoulder a nudge toward the door. “I think maybe you've had enough fun for tonight though, can I walk you back to your room?”
“You can walk me back to your room,” Keith hiccups and attempts to wiggle his eyebrows with mixed results, “I've got s'more... kissing plant.”
“Mistletoe?” Shiro feels the blush creeping to his ears as Keith nods and starts rifling through his pockets – producing a wilted bundle with a flourish before straining to his toes in an attempt to hold it over their heads.
“See?” Keith grunts, the picture of consternation as he wobbles upward, “Can I borrow your arm?” Shiro blinks at him, offering his metal palm for Keith to drop the plant into. “Thanks... now – up!”
Shiro lets it float high, dangling the mistletoe above them just to make Keith smile.
“Like this?”
“Perfect,” Keith sighs, then lifts onto his toes again to kiss Shiro square on the cheek, eyes alight in mischief. “If you want more smooches we can hang it above your bed.”
The squeak that crawls out of Shiro's chest isn't exactly cute, and definitely carries across the room if the sudden hoot of laughter from their friends is any indication, but Shiro can't say he minds too much – not when Keith is beaming up at him, eyes twinkling and fingers curled tight into his lapels.
“How about we start with some bedtime cuddles and go from there?” Shiro asks him, leaning down to return the smooch to Keith's cheek, just grazing the corner of his mouth as he whispers, “I have a feeling you're gonna want to remember your last first kiss.”