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“I'm telling you Keith, this year is gonna be the one, she's gonna take one look at this setup and go 'wow, Matt sure is cool, I better snap him up like the hot commodity he is!' just you wait.”
Keith doesn't bother to bite down his grin as he turns to arch an eyebrow at his friend, “Is that how it's gonna go then? She's gonna look at your bean dip and realize she's been missing out this whole time?”
“Mom made that bean dip with love, thank you very much,” Matt sniffs and reaches out to straighten the cling wrap over the top of the bowl, “anyone not wooed by it doesn't belong in the family.”
True as that may be, Keith still thinks that Matt might have his hopes a little high this year... after all, Allura's been coming to his holiday soiree for the last few years, and at no point has she suddenly realized that Matt has magically morphed from four raccoons in a trench coat into Prince Charming.
He's not exactly putting his money on any romantic endeavors for anyone – especially not with the guest list looking the way it is currently. Pidge is bringing her two roommates, one of which has a giant crush on Allura, and then there's Romelle tagging along with the guest of honor... and Matt had mentioned that she might be bringing another friend, but has been tight-lipped about who.
Either way, seven or eight kids fresh out of grad school isn't exactly the beginning to any whirlwind romances as far as he's heard.
And it doesn't help that the fancy plates are all plastic either.
“Did she ever tell you if she's bringing her other friend for sure?” Keith asks as he starts setting out utensils and plates for grazing, “I can leave a cup and whatever else out just in case if you want.”
“Oh, yeah,” Matt flaps a hand at him, grin going all sly as he wiggles his eyebrows, “I forgot to tell you, she's definitely bringing Shiro.”
Keith whips his head around, not bothering to hold up a pretense of cool as he yelps, “Tonight?”
“Yeah, of course tonight.” Matt shrugs, still grinning like the evil little shit he is, like he didn't just throw a wrench into Keith's entire existence.
His whole plan was to just lay low, maybe chat with Pidge and her friends, see if Matt needed a wingman to keep Lance busy... he isn't dressed for this new development. The red hoodie that dark jeans that had seemed so comfortable just moments earlier are now the worst things he could have chosen. He looks like a street urchin with his ripped out knees and tattered sweater paws. Shiro is probably going to show up looking like a Greek god, all chiseled and nice and shit, and there he's gonna be... Matt's weirdo tag-along roommate who can't dress himself like a big boy.
“Dude, chill out, it's just Shiro.” Matt punches him on the shoulder, startling Keith from his casual spiral. “He's a bigger nerd than I am, it'll be fine.”
“God dammit, Matt,” Keith groans, swatting his friend's hand away before dragging his own down his face. “I don't even remember if I put deodorant on.”
“Then you better not start panic sweating.”
“Not helping!”
“Hey.” Matt stops teasing and catches Keith by the shoulders, adopting the most serious face Keith's ever seen from him as he squeezes. “It's gonna be fine, I pinkie promise... I didn't tell you because I know you kinda had a crush and I didn't want you to freak out and bail, cause it's gonna be fine. Okay?”
The words are more reassuring than Keith would like to admit, and he sticks his pinkie out to wrap it around Matt's. “Okay, yeah... totally not freaking out. We're cool.”
“Ice cold,” Matt agrees, letting go to give him a punch on the arm, “plus your ass looks great in those jeans and you've got the whole 'vulnerable waif' thing going on... I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”
“He doesn't even know who I am,” Keith grumbles and moves back to rearrange the napkins he'd knocked over in his moment of panic, “he'll probably make three minutes of awkward small talk to be polite and then I won't have to worry about it anyway.”
Matt shrugs. “If you say so.”
He does say so, even if Matt keeps giving him that stupid look of his, the one that means he definitely knows something – or thinks he knows something. But they've been friends long enough now for Keith to know that particular face is full of shit as often as it accurately predicts his inevitable ruin, so he'll take his chances.
Fortunately he doesn't have long to stew on it.
There's a ruckus out on the porch just as Keith finishes setting out the snacks, a stomping of boots and kicking of snow as an entire troupe of miscreants comes tumbling through the doorway.
“Hey loser, I'm home!” Pidge hollers from the entryway, poking her head around the corner to beam at her brother, “did you make my favorite?”
“Yes, Pidgeon, spicy cornbread just for you.” Matt huffs theatrically as he pulls her into hug – then effortlessly shifts to rub his knuckles into her hair when she reaches for the surreptitious wet willy. “No chance, short stack.”
“Augh!”
“Hey, Keith! Good to see you.” Hunk ambles up and pulls him into a hug. He smells like the snickerdoodle cookies that are almost certainly in the container in his hands, and Keith is suddenly starving for them. “How've you been, man?”
“Pretty good.” He squeezes back, because if anyone in the world deserves to have their hugs returned it's Hunk. “Kosmo's hanging out with Mom and Dad for the weekend, he's probably gonna be a fat puppy by the time I get there.”
“He's a good boy though,” Hunk claps him on the back and pulls away with a grin, “you'll have to show me pictures, his ears and paws were so big when I saw him last... has he grown into them?”
“Not quite,” Keith laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands about two feet apart, “he's maybe this big, but the ears and paws just keep on growing with him.”
“He's gonna be a chonky boy,” Pidge chimes in from where she's finally extricated herself from Matt's torment, “you might need a bigger apartment.”
“I'll move in with Matt,” Keith teases, grinning at his friend who merely shrugs in response.
“My house is your house... plus the neighbors have this annoying yap dog that Kosmo is totally allowed to come eat.”
“Well that's gruesome,” Romelle chimes in as she stomps the snow off her feet at the door, “won't that give him a stomach ache?”
“Nah, I'll take the collar off him first.”
Keith can't help but laugh as Romelle's nose wrinkles – Matt's sense of humor tends to have that effect on people.
“The princess has arrived!” Lance squawks as he holds the door open for Allura, who rolls her eyes as she thanks him... but Keith is pretty sure that the real royalty is the man who shuffles in behind them, tapping the snow from his shoes as he shuts the door to keep the chill out.
Matt makes a beeline for Allura, holding his arms out for a hug that she accepts gracefully. Keith is actually pretty proud of him that he doesn't make it weird or creepy and lets go in a reasonable amount of time to offer one to Romelle and Shiro as well. “Hey guys, I'm glad you all could make it.”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world, buddy,” Shiro assures him as he clasps Matt's hand and tugs him in, “you know how much I love Colleen's bean dip.”
“Ooh, yes!” Allura claps her hands and stretches onto her toes to peer into the kitchen, “I have heard so much about this magical dip, may I try some now?”
“Of course!” Matt scrambles through the mass of bodies still shedding their snowy outerwear to grab a plate for her. “Pretzels or chips?”
“Chips please.”
“Coming right up.” He glops a generous amount onto the plate before passing it over with bated breath.
She takes a small nibble at first, just to try... then her eyes light up and she's shoveling dip into her mouth with all the grace of a warthog. “Romelle... you absolutely must try this!”
“Oh?” Romelle shuffles up beside her and swipes a finger through the plate, brightening at the taste. “Oh my god, I need some of that.”
The rest descend like a flock of vultures, desperate to get their own plate of the dip before everyone else eats it all. Keith isn't too worried though, he knows that Colleen left another container in the fridge with his name on it, in true mothering form. Shiro seems to be equally unconcerned as he shuffles up to Keith where he leans against the couch.
“Hey, been a while.” He smiles over at him, one dimple flashing as he leans close enough for Keith to catch a faint whiff of cologne.
“Yeap,” Keith nods, attempting to play it cool and not at all wondering if Shiro even remembers his name. “Year or so.”
“Ah, that long?” Shiro scratches at the back of his head and looks at his feet, which happen to be clad in ridiculous moose print socks. “You seem... taller?”
Keith shrugs. He is a little bit, probably, but it's less taller and more that he started going to the gym and looks significantly less like the dainty waif Matt likes to think he is. “Maybe a little.”
“Ah.” Shiro sniffs, then clears his throat. The silence is more than a tad bit awkward. “Well, you know... looks good and all.”
Keith turns to look up at him, brows furrowed. “The height?”
“Er, I meant-” Shiro stutters, flushing to his ears as he cringes, “uh, like the whole... the year, you... yeah, whatever... I think Matt needs help in the kitchen.”
And then he's slinking away, like another moment in Keith's presence would give him hives.
Figures.
Keith sighs and wanders over to the dining room table to fill a plate with the snacks that aren't getting as much love. Maybe they'll appreciate the solidarity. Plate filled, he trudges back to the living room and plops onto a couch, curling up in the corner to munch on his bounty while the others slowly trickle in with their own.
“Scoot your feet, grinch.” Pidge nudges at him as she sinks into the middle cushion and drags Hunk onto her other side. “Why the long face?”
“It's just my face,” Keith grunts back and shoves a handful of pretzels into his mouth, “resting bitch face knows no season.”
“Well it looks bitchier than usual, someone piss in your punch bowl?”
That at least earns her a snort and the flicker of a smile, “I don't think Matt's that bad yet.”
“He's looking closer to pissing on Allura's leg,” Hunk stage whispers as he crunches on the caramel popcorn, “how long do you think it'll take for him to jam Lance down the garbage disposal?”
Pidge swivels around to squint between the two. “An hour.”
“I'll give him the whole night,” Keith disagrees, knowing that Matt is attempting to be on his best behavior... besides, the night will probably end when he does jam Lance into a disposal anyway.
“He won't,” Shiro interjects confidently as he slips up behind their couch and makes them all startle, far too quiet for a man of his size, “it'll be fine.”
“Eeeeh.” Hunk wrinkles his nose as he gauges his friend's potential for annoyance. “I dunno... I wouldn't really blame him.”
“He won't,” Shiro insists, grinning at them as he settles into the recliner on the other side of Keith, like he knows a secret they don't, “he's not going to need to.”
Keith is intrigued, to say the least. Shiro knows Allura better than anyone here with the exception of Romelle, and he's also been Matt's friend the longest... realistically he should have the best idea of the whole picture.
“Okay, I'll bite.” Keith leans in, planting his elbow on the arm of the couch and his chin in his palm. “Why isn't he going to need to? Cause I'm going to have a much better night if I don't have to tuck his drunk-crying ass into bed later.”
Shiro huffs a laugh, grinning down at his plate before glancing up through his lashes at Keith. “You're a good friend, you know that?”
“Wha?” Keith blinks at him, feeling his cheeks start to heat before doing his best to scoff the idea away. “No... Matt's just... Matt. You can't not like the guy.”
“Mmm,” Shiro hums, not pushing the point further, “I suppose I can relate... but you're still a good friend.”
“Yeah, well... somebody's gotta be... but that's not the point,” Keith squints at him and jerks a thumb over his shoulder, “you know something, Shirogane?”
“Last name basis, are we?” Shiro's smile is almost... sad?
“Well, I don't think you even know my first name,” Keith mutters before he can think better of it, much to his immediate regret, “Er... sorry, that was rude.”
“Keith.” Shiro smiles at him and waves away the apology. “Of course I know your name, Matt talks about you all the time.”
“...oh.”
That makes sense, kinda. Matt talks about Shiro too, though likely in a much more teasing way than Shiro gets. Keith knows the gist of what the man has been up to for the last few years of their lives after Shiro graduated when Keith was a freshman, courtesy of Matt's unending hunger for gossip.
“So I guess you probably only know the terrible things,” he chuckles, dragging a hand through his hair as he recalls the times they were nearly suspended for various flagrant acts of stupidity. “I'm probably only kinda as bad as he makes me sound.”
“You love your dog Kosmo – who's very cute by the way, and you absolutely dominated the Garrison U soccer team, your favorite color is red and your motorcycle proves it, you studied astrophysics too but minored in fine arts cause you love to paint...” Shiro trails off, starting to look a little sheepish, “Too much? That was probably creepy.”
Keith can only stare at him, open-mouthed and shocked speechless.
“Aaaah, yeah... okay.” Shiro cringes and pushes off the chair, jerking a thumb toward the kitchen, “Right, I'm gonna-”
And then he's shuffling back to the other group of laughing guests, shoulders hunched to his ears.
“Dude-” Pidge hisses, backhanding Keith in the chest with a look of utter incredulity, “-what the hell are you doing?!”
“I... what? Nothing!” Keith grumbles as he swats her hand away, still blinking after Shiro's retreating form, “what was I supposed to do?”
“I dunno man,” Hunk chimes in, still munching on his popcorn as he side eyes his friends, “that definitely seemed like the perfect 'flirt and attempt confession for mutual crush' sort of moment.”
“There is no mutual crush.” Keith shakes his head, squinting at his friends like they've lost their minds, “I dunno, he just surprised me is all... I didn't think Matt would have told him all of that.”
“He wouldn't have.” Pidge huffs and presses her fingers into her temples. “Shiro has thought you were cool for like... ever.”
“No has hasn't,” Keith replies automatically, “he's never even tried to talk to me.”
“He's busy and awkward as hell, in case you didn't notice.”
“Still... I mean, come on... look at him!”
“Crap argument,” Hunk interrupts again, waving a hand up and down Keith's defensive crouch where he's curled up on the couch, “aside from the whole feral cat thing you've got going on, you're objectively a hottie, dude.”
“Well what am I supposed to do, just go over there and be like 'hey, I like like you,' like we're twelve?”
Pidge shrugs, “That was Matt's plan.”
Groaning, Keith buries his hands in his hair and tugs at the roots. This is why he doesn't try to do people related activities – too many moving parts and social cues that elude him... and that's not even why he's here tonight anyway.
“Whatever,” he grumbles to himself as he hauls up off the couch and strolls into the kitchen like he's not the most awkward human to ever live, and interrupts the girls where they're chatting as they wait for Matt to return from wherever he went. “Hey, Allura... did you know Matt gives really great shoulder rubs?”
She turns to look at him, like she's maybe confused but pleasantly surprised with the information. “No, Keith, I didn't know that.”
“Yeah, well...” Keith shrugs and grabs a cup to fill it with punch, aiming an encouraging smile her way. “He is... he used to help me out after rough games. He's... really nice you know. A great guy.”
She smiles at him, like she too knows a secret he doesn't. “You're right, Keith... he is a lovely man.”
“Yeap...” He takes a long slurp out of his cup, staring at her over the rim as he pulls off with a smack of his lips. “Someone should probably snap him up... you know, before someone else realizes it.”
Perfect. Subtlety.
Romelle brays a laugh, but Allura's lips part into a little 'o' as Keith nods at her and shuffles away, his main job for the night complete. If she doesn't appreciate the bean dip and the eloquent letter of recommendation then there's nothing for it.
Now for the worst part of his night.
“Hey Lance,” he grunts as he hip checks his begrudging friend, “how've you been?”
“Fabulous,” Lance grunts back as he digs an elbow into Keith's ribs, “got a new gig.”
“Out of retail?”
“And never fucking going back,” Lance confirms with a grin.
“Nice.” Keith offers him a fist bump with a nod of his head. “That's great man, I'm happy for you.”
“Yeah, well... thanks for being my reference.”
Truth be told they hadn't even called him, but Keith nods all the same. “Yeah, happy to lie to an employer anytime.”
“Asshole.”
They grin at each other before going to back chip munching and people watching in companionable silence... which never lasts long with Lance.
“Have Shiro's thighs gotten thicker since last year?”
“Yeah,” Keith sighs wistfully. He had noticed earlier when they arrived, but didn't want to be too desperate. “His arms too.”
“Huh.” Lance chews and nods to himself. “You know, if you don't try to hit that I might consider men.”
“I thought you were into Allura?”
Lance shrugs, glancing over at where Matt has returned to chat with the girls. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think those two would actually be... kinda... okay together.”
“Wow.” Keith stops munching and turns to where Lance's mouth is twisted up like he's sucked on a lemon. “That's big of you.”
“It's not the only thing,” Lance retorts, but it's halfhearted at best. “Besides, he's a nice dude, and I'd kinda be a dick to try to cock block him in his own house.”
“That's true,” Keith agrees, turning back to his plate, “I just didn't know you possessed that level of self awareness.”
“Yeah okay, Kettle.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, you.” Lance sticks his tongue out and jabs Keith in the ribs again, igniting a slap fight that quickly draws unwanted attention.
“Alright over here, guys?” Shiro asks as he approaches, hands raised defensively to avoid the flailing of too-long sleeves as they pummel each other.
“Peachy,” Keith grunts as he tries to get Lance in a headlock, but the lotion makes him too slippery and he pops right out.
“Wonderful,” Lances wheezes, licking his hand to smear down Keith's cheek. “Just knocking some sense into Mullet here.”
“Augh!”
“Neener neener-”
“Guys...”
“Let 'em go, Shiro,” Pidge calls from the couch as she shares Hunk's popcorn, “they'll tire themselves out.”
“Not before I wring his skinny neck,” Keith grits out as he wipes the spit off his face and kicks Lance in the shins, “I'm gonna stuff him down the disposal at this rate-”
“Ohohoo-” Lance hoots, stepping back to palm Keith's face with his freakishly long circus arms, “that's not the kind of stuffing you're looking for, and look – he's right here!”
“Lance.” Keith lunges for him, only to be caught by the back of his hood like a scruffed kitten. “Wha?”
“Don't take the bait,” Shiro sighs, tugging him into his side as he shoos Lance away like a gnat, blind to the triumphant grin that's going to haunt Keith for weeks, “that's what he wants.”
Keith grumbles to himself, squirming free to straighten out his hoodie with a blush. “Yeah well... whatever.”
“Hey, can I um... apologize?” Shiro reaches out to plant one of his huge hands on Keith's shoulder, nearly engulfing the entire thing up to his collarbone. “That was super weird of me earlier, and I'd really like us to be friends since we both know Matt, and I don't want it to be awkward or anything so...”
“Yeah, no, for sure... it's fine.” Keith clears his throat, then attempts to flatten his hair... anything to keep from looking at the man in front of him. “It wasn't that weird anyway, you know... I know stuff about you too, I just thought you were like... I dunno.”
Shiro frowns at him, grip squeezing in question. “Like what?”
“I dunno, like aloof.” Keith shrugs. “Like, you didn't want to hang out with the kids, so I wasn't going to bother you or anything.”
“Me?” Shiro pulls back his hand, looking surprised and a little hurt. “I'm sorry if I ever gave off that impression. I've always thought you were cool, I just didn't know how to approach.”
“Well, 'hi' works usually.” Keith shrugs again, and wonders if he's lost all other social skills beyond the motion. “It's no big deal. You're fine, in more than one way. I didn't expect you to want to be friends.”
“Well, I do,” Shiro assures him as he shuffles those ridiculous socks on the tile, “At least friends... or whatever.”
“Oh.” Keith blinks up at him, entire new worlds of possibility opening to him now. “Yeah, I mean. Perfect... at least friends then.”
He sticks out his hand to shake.
…
He sticks out his hand.... to shake.
God, he wishes he'd stuck to shrugging.
But Shiro grabs it, pumping once with a grin. “Friends then.”
Keith's hand is irredeemably sweaty, he knows it in his soul, but he smiles anyway. “Cool.” And then, because he knows better than to push his luck, he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I'm gonna go check on Matt.”
Shiro nods at him, then waves... kinda like an idiot. At least Keith isn't the only one today.
Matt is floating around the kitchen island when Keith shuffles up to him, hands in his hoodie pocket and a smile on his face.
“You have any luck?”
Matt nods at him, breaking into a great big dorky grin. “I think we have a date!”
“You think?”
“She said the words 'Great, then it's a date,' so I'm pretty sure.”
“Nice.”
Matt nods and swirls the eggnog in his cup. “How about you? Making any friends?”
Keith glances over toward the couches where everyone else is gathered, then back at his friend with a little grin of his own.
“You know... I think I just might've.”