Chapter Text
“I’m going to fuck our teacher.”
Lance sputters helplessly as Keith drops his books on the desk next to him and sits down, looking shell shocked even though he’s the one who just dropped a bomb. “I...you... what? ” Keith shrugs. “But, he’s like a million year old! And kind of looks like a giant caterpillar-bird monster."
“What? No, not him.” Keith waves his hand at Professor Slav with a disgusted curve to his lips. “Him.” He points not at all surreptitiously at the tall drink of water talking to their professor while wearing an expression like he’s trying valiantly to resist his murderous thoughts but failing miserably. Lance raises his eyebrows in reluctant admiration. He’s exactly Keith’s type: tall, buff, and nerdy.
He still feels the need to question. “First of all, a TA is not the same as a teacher. And second, what makes you so cocky?” Keith’s smile is slow and confident as he slouches in his chair and taps his pen against his lower lip. “Okay, wow. Very informative. Could you maybe stop eyefucking the guy though? I’m feeling very violated right now.” Keith glances at him sideways and sucks the pen between his lips suggestively. Lance groans and drops his head to the desk.
“Hey, everyone. If you could just quiet down, we can get started.” The class quiets as Hunk o’ Beef steps up to the podium and flips through some papers, looking harried. “Great, thanks. Welcome to Astro 160. My name is Takashi Shirogane, and I will be one of the TAs leading discussion groups. Professor Slav had… a situation, so I’ll be going over introductions and the syllabus today.” For a moment, his face creases into something like annoyance before smoothing out into a small smile. “Let’s get started, yeah?”
Lance zones out while Beefcake Shirogane takes attendance, paying attention only long enough to reply with a lazy, “Yo,” when his own name is called. He clues back in when Shirohottie stops short halfway through the roll call.
“Keith, uh...Keith Kogane?” Lance raises an intrigued eyebrow. Did Sexygane just stutter? Better question, is he blushing?
Keith bites his lip on a smile and raises two fingers. “Right here.” Tacutie is definitely blushing. He looks like he’s been hit by a brick.
“Oh come on, Mullet’s not that hot,” Lance complains, perhaps a touch too loudly. Titters and whispers fill the awkward silence. He’s not sure who is more red at this point: Keith, Papigane, or himself.
“That’s not, uh. I mean...” Studgane clears his throat and shuffles his papers, flustered. “Uh, Katelyn Long?”
A pretty blonde girl raises her hand and squeaks, “Here,” and the roll call rolls on. Dorkashi recovers admirably as he starts in on the syllabus, though his eyes slide their way far more than necessary.
Lance drops his head in his hands. “Oh my God, you’re going to fuck our teacher,” he moans.
Keith smiles.
***
Keith packs up his bag slowly, ignoring Lance’s exasperated huffing and muttering. “You could just leave without me,” he finally says when his grumbles grow too loud.
“And risk the next class getting an eyeful of your pasty ass bent over the desk? I would never do that to them.”
Keith flushes and scowls down at his books. “I’m not that shameless,” he mutters. Lance doesn’t look convinced and Keith can’t entirely blame him; as roommates, he’d been privy to Keith’s freshman slut stage and he’s never quite recovered. Keith scowls, shoving the rest of his stuff into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Whatever, come on.” He bounds down the stairs of the auditorium, joining the last of the stragglers out the door.
He’s almost out the door when he hears his name called. He slows and stops. Lance digs a bony elbow into his ribs as he pushes past. “Don’t forget to put the sock out,” he hisses. Keith rolls his eyes and shoves him away before turning around.
Shirogane is leaning against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed and lips quirked in an abashed smile. Keith stops in front of him, fiddling with the strap of his bag and feeling oddly shy for some reason. “Yes?”
Shirogane stands and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or make him uncomfortable.” Keith blinks at him; that’s not what he was expecting. Keith isn’t quite sure what expression he’s making, but whatever it is makes his brow furrow uncertainly. “I can make sure you’re in Matt’s section for discussion group if you want. I just. Okay, this might sound weird, but I don’t suppose you ever lived on Starlight Lane in Plaht City?”
Keith’s eyes widen and he takes a step back warily. “Why?”
Shirogane breaks into a grin and his eyes sparkle happily. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I lived next door to you.”
Keith sucks in a sharp breath. “Shiro?”
Shiro nods enthusiastically. “That’s me.”
Keith stares at him, brain stalling out. He flicks his eyes up and down Shiro’s brick shithouse of a body. “But...you...big!” he stutters and immediately cringes inwardly. Smooth, Kogane.
Shiro blushes and scrubs at the back of his head, laughing. “Yeah, I've definitely grown a bit since high school.”
Understatement of the century. The Shiro he remembers was tall and gangly, all puppy-paw hands and feet, retainer lisp and ears that stuck out too much. Glow up of the century, he thinks faintly. “I called you Stretch Armstrong,” he blurts. “Now you're just, like, arm strong. And ab strong. And Jesus, thigh strong.” He stares maybe a little too long at said thighs. When he finally drags his gaze up to Shiro’s face, he's gone bright red from ears all the way down his throat. Keith smiles slowly, amused. There’s the Shiro he remembers. “No seriously, did you eat Arnold Schwarzenegger?” he teases. “I promise not to tell if you did.”
Shiro laughs loud and and happy, throwing his head back. Keith takes the moment to appreciate the long lines of his throat, smiling helplessly. Shiro’s laugh peters out finally and he shakes his head. “It’s really good to see you again, Keith.”
“Yeah,” Keith says quietly, smiling fondly.
Shiro glances over Keith’s shoulder; students are filing in for the next class, throwing them curious looks. “Ah, sorry to cut this short but…”
Keith steps back and sticks his hands in his pockets. “No, yeah. I’ve got another class anyway. I’ll see you later, I guess?”
Shiro nods, expression falling for a moment before turning hopeful. “I don’t suppose you’d like to get coffee sometime? I’d like to catch up.” Keith personally would prefer breakfast in bed, but he’s not going to say that. Yet.
“I’d like that,” he says instead. “Here, give me your phone.” Shiro digs his phone out of his back pocket and hands it over. Keith programs his number into the phone under the name Keef with a small smirk. Shiro groans when he sees it, but he’s still smiling.
“I’ll text you later,” he promises. Keith gives him a two fingered salute and gets out of there before he says something stupid.
***
Starlight Lane is foster placement number three and Keith, already defiant and reckless, spends a lot of time crawling out of his window onto the roof so he can look over the edge while contemplating whether he’d break any bones if he jumped and how much it would slow him down when running away. He’s just about ready to take his chances when a voice stops him.
“I wouldn’t. I fell off the roof a couple years ago and ended up with a compound fracture in my leg.”
Keith looks across the way at the house next to them. An older boy is leaning out a window, smiling wryly up at him. Keith studies him suspiciously, taking in the goofy features and weird white streak in his hair. His arm is missing below the elbow. “That how you lost your arm too?” he asks snidely.
The boy glances down at his stump, then back up with a small smile. He doesn’t even look upset about Keith’s rudeness. He shrugs. “Cancer, actually.” Keith hides his wince, feeling guilty but refusing to show it. “You’re Keith, right? I’m Shiro.” The way he says Keith’s name makes it sound more like Keef. What a dork.
“Yeah,” he finally mutters when it becomes clear Shiro will wait as long as it takes for his answer. “What d’you want?”
Shiro leans a little further out the window and glances up. “It’s a nice night,” he says idly. “Not much cloud cover.”
Keith cocks his head and crouches to wrap his arms around his knees, thoughts of escape momentarily forgotten. “So? What’s that got to do with anything?”
Shiro grins. It lights up his face and turns his awkward features into something almost handsome. “So, the stars are bright tonight and I have a telescope. Wanna come over?”
Keith bites at his thumb, a wave of melancholy hitting him full force; his dad used to take him stargazing. He shakes it off sharply. “The Smiths aren’t going to let me out, it’s way past curfew.” He sneers the word curfew disdainfully. He’s twelve years old. He doesn’t need random people telling him when he can or can’t go out.
“Let me take care of that,” Shiro says enigmatically before sliding the window shut and disappearing. Intrigued, Keith scurries across the roof and swings back into the room he was given. He sneaks out into the hall and peeks over the stairs railing. Mr. Smith is already at the door and he can hear Shiro on the other side.
“Hi Mr. Smith,” Shiro says, sounding disgustingly innocent.
“Shiro, what brings you over so late?” His foster father’s shoulders have relaxed in a way that they never do around him. Keith wraps his arms around his stomach and backs up a step.
“I was wondering if Keith could come over for a little while? I wanted to show him my telescope.”
“Keith?” Mr. Smith sounds surprised, as if he couldn’t imagine someone like Shiro wanting to hang out with someone like Keith. He looks over his shoulder. Keith scrambles to get out of sight. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just make sure he’s back by ten.”
“Ten thirty? The view won’t be really good until later.”
Mr. Smith sighs, but it sounds amused. “I suppose that would be okay. Keith?” Keith peeks around the corner and steps out onto the stairs landing, moving his arms up so they’re crossed over his chest instead. A small smile curls his foster father’s lips. Keith scowls back. “Go on, have fun. Remember, ten thirty.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, old man,” he mutters, taking the stairs two at a time and brushing past Mr. Smith carelessly.
“Thanks Mr. Smith,” Shiro calls as he follows Keith off the porch. Keith waits for Shiro to comment on his rude behavior, but he just leads Keith up to a messy bedroom covered with NASA and Star Trek posters, bookshelves filled with science fiction novels and boring looking science textbooks. Airplane models fill a display case in one corner. The guy has space themed sheets and glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. Keith’s original assessment was right, the guy is a total geek. Next to his paper scattered desk is a really expensive looking telescope. Keith whistles. That thing must be worth at least five hundred at a pawn shop, easy.
Shiro steps up next to him, adjusting a prosthesis he must have put on while Keith wasn’t looking. “Come on,” he says, nudging Keith’s shoulder lightly. He grabs the telescope and climbs out the window onto the lower portion of the roof with the ease of someone who’s done it hundreds of times before. Keith follows, watching with raised eyebrows as Shiro spiders quickly along the sloped roof to a plywood platform Keith had never noticed before. When Keith joins him, he’s already got the telescope set up. “Want a drink?” he asks, pointing at a plastic tub sitting in one corner of the platform, a tarp carelessly piled next to it.
“Beer?” Keith tries. Shiro raises an eyebrow.
“How about a root beer?” he says dryly. Keith shrugs and crouches so he can pry the tub open, making sure to keep Shiro in his sight as he does. Inside are cans of soda, including the promised root beer, along with some single serving chip bags and a box of Thin Mints. There’s also a blanket and hoodie with a faded NASA symbol stamped on the front. It looks soft, lived in. Warm.“Take whatever you want.”
Keith drags his eyes away and pulls out a soda and the Thin Mints. Shiro pulls back from the telescope for a moment to look at him. “Good choice. When you’re ready, I’ve got the Andromeda Galaxy located."
They stay up on the platform, Shiro pointing out different objects in the sky and talking about them while Keith looks his fill. At 10:25, they reluctantly head back inside and Keith waves off Shiro’s offer to walk him back over. He waits until 10:35 before walking in the front door. Mr. Smith raises an eyebrow at him as he passes the living room, but turns back to the TV without comment. Keith grins to himself. Looks like he just found the perfect meal ticket.