Shiro had been at more events involving drink in the last two weeks then he’d been at in the last two years combined. He still wasn’t a heavy drinker and tended to nurse one or two drinks, particularly if there was a straw involved, but the magic party had immediately left him feeling off-kilter, so he was well past the two drink stage at this point.
He was also tucked away in a corner and trying not to spill the bright colored concoction in his glass on the white suit he’d been magically dressed in. It probably didn’t even work that way, but he was tipsy and Keith was dressed up and Shiro’s usual level-headedness was fuzzy around the edges. He wondered how many times he said Keith looked good like this. Once? Twice? He took a sip of his drink and leaned against a wall with one broad shoulder.
“Have you scoped out the exits yet?” He smirked from behind his raised glass and only wobbled a little in his relaxed lean. ”Or are you having a good enough time to put it off?”
Keith wasn't used to drinking. After him and Allura had been collected and tucked in by Shiro the last time they'd ended up drunk, he'd decided not to do THAT again.
Which he definitely wasn't. There was no "not for mortals" drink that he was sampling. It was just regular drinks. That tasted really good! So maybe he'd had a little more than he'd meant to, but it was a party! Keith wasn't really great at parties usually - too many people, too much talking, too close. But the drinks kind of helped, so did having Shiro and Allura there.
But the drinks made it easier to talk to people he didn't know. He'd spent a while doing that when he suddenly realized he'd lost Shiro at some point. That wasn't good. He turned to look for Shiro and then just found that Shiro was in the corner, right nearby. Which was like Shiro. Out of the way, but watching over everything. Dependable. Good. And looking really nice. Keith had noticed, but he'd noticed MORE when Shiro danced with Allura and him and Atreus hung out off the dance floor and kind of watched.
It was weird how often he noticed Shiro's shoulders now, wasn't it?
Keith was kept from worrying about that by the question and he blinked. He was a little pink-cheeked from the drinks and the warmth of the room. "Huh?" In case they had to fight their way out? Should he have done that?
Oh wait. He caught up to what Shiro meant and then just laughed. "Nah - it's fine. Allura's having fun and it's kind of cool, with all the magic and everything."
The flush in Keith’s face was really ridiculously charming. Shiro had to bite into his lip to stop a tipsy grin of his own, but the happy squint around his eyes gave him away. His gaze dropped to the sparkling liquid in his glass and he took another drink if only to have something to do with his hands.
“I hope you’re having fun too. Not that I’m not glad the princess is enjoying herself,” he hastily corrected. He felt the heat in his own face race up his cheeks to the scar across the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to magic that’s so harmless, myself. I saw someone fall in the pool and step out completely dry a few minutes ago. I thought maybe I’d had one too many of these already,” he laughed, lifting his drink.
Keith laughed again. Not because anything was funny, just because he wanted to. "I am. I do a lot here, compared to home. Not that home's always bad but ... you know. We're always doing something. There's not the same ... time? Feeling? I don't know." He moved to lean up against the wall next to Shiro, shoulder brushing his.
"It's more like something out of a story or a movie when it's like this. All ... glamorous and mostly just for fun," Keith said. "Or when it's Atreus turning into animals or someone flying on a broom or something. It feels a little not-real, but nice, too. It gets more real when it's defense stuff and they're throwing around magic to fight." Not that it wasn't still cool, but it was definitely different. "Maybe they just LOOKED dry? Like we just look like we're wearing this?"
“I get it. There’s a lot of pressure at home. People counting on us.” Shiro sagged against Keith’s shoulder and took another drink, watching the party crowd. His voice came out soft, thoughtful. “It’s hard to think about fun when there’s always so much that needs to be done.”
The other paladins had helped there, often without even meaning to, but it had been harder as Captain of the Atlas. There weren’t other people in his same position really. He’d missed the camaraderie of Voltron. He’d missed Keith. He nearly said as much when he realized Keith was talking about magic and the party.
Shiro chuckled. “They were definitely dry. One of them was saying holy shit I’m not wet.” Grinning at the rare curse, he shot a glance over at Keith that lingered. “You’re right though. It is different like this. I’m grateful to meet magic users who aren’t trying to bend the universe to their will.”
Keith grunted a little and leaned back into Shiro, essentially propping each other up. He wasn't drunk, he was just ... content. "Yeah. Even when we do goof off, kinda feel guilty for it." It just always seemed like there probably should be something more important to be done.
But not here. Here there were plenty of other people to patrol when they weren't, so they could do stuff like this. Go to a party, have drinks, have friends. Just kind of live, even if Keith was still figuring out what that looked like.
He laughed again, a shade of delight in it, for that rare curse. He liked Shiro just as he was, but there was something great about it when Shiro lightened up, especially when it was only Keith who got to see it. It made him feel special. "The universe is safe. I'm not sure about the bar though," Keith said, grinning. There had definitely been some fancy magic stuff happening there when the bartender - Josh? - was mixing drinks before. Which reminded him. "Did you try this one? It's so good, I don't know what it's called." He offered his purpleish drink to Shiro to try.
Shiro’s gaze turned soft at Keith’s admission of feeling guilty at home when he had any fun. He knew that feeling well. He was only sorry he probably hadn’t helped, with how hard he tended to push the paladins when he’d led them. He opened his mouth to apologize but Keith’s laugh made him swallow it back. Keith was happy here, and relaxed right now, and Shiro wanted to savor it instead of dwelling on past mistakes.
“I have not,” he admitted, eyeing the drink. “But I suppose since the universe is safe...” Shiro covered Keith’s hand on the glass with his own and lifted the drink to take a sip. Were they very close or was that the liquor? He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t move back either way. “Hm...sweeter than I expected.” His own glass was full of an iridescent liquid that had seemed safe enough but might possibly be catching up with him faster than he realized. He held it up between them and bumped it against Keith’s chest. “Have you tried this one?”
Keith grinned. Fair was fair. He took the drink, still leaned up against Shiro. They were close, but that felt okay to him. Nice. "Yeah. Kind of like candy in a glass, but not TOO sweet." Keith had yet to try anything he DIDN'T like. Which could be a problem for not ending up miserable tomorrow. But it was great for now.
He took a sip of Shiro's, eyeing the sheen of it curiously before trying it. It was good too, but not as sweet, and didn't have as much fruitiness to it. "Good," he decided, offering it back. "But mine's better."
Shiro's suit caught his eye when he passed the drink back, and Keith pressed his hand to the lapel curiously, trying to see if he felt any difference. "You look nice like this," he said.
“Always a competition,” Shiro laughed. The sound stuttered a bit, breathlessly, as Keith touched him. Maybe he felt the t-shirt underneath which - aside from being a snug fit - was about as boring as clothes got. Shiro liked the suit this magic had put him in. The creamy white of it and the gold striped tie made him feel classier than he generally had the time to be, if a bit too bright with the white of his hair added to the mix.
Shiro thoughtlessly mirrored Keith’s touch, his fingers stroking along the curve of Keith’s dark collar. He looked really good. All sharp lines and soft smiles and…
“Yours brings out your eyes,” Shiro blurted. He blinked, rapidly, and then scowled accusingly down at the drink in his hand. “I mean, you...look nice too.”
"You're one to talk!" Keith accused with another grin. Because Shiro might be good and kind - but he was competitive as hell when he wanted to be, and Keith knew it. Keith knew Shiro. Sometimes he maybe got a little too smug about thinking he knew him better than other people.
Keith could feel the shirt beneath the suit, but it didn't matter. It still LOOKED real. And it looked nice. The kind of fancy-party nice Shiro probably would have gotten if he'd just come back from his first mission with everything having gone right and they'd thrown some celebration for it.
He wasn't sure if it was Shiro's hand on his neck or the compliment that did it, but Keith could feel his face going hot this time as he blushed. He'd never liked his eyes, growing up. They were too different from everybody else. Even knowing they must have come from his mother, he'd still resented them. Now that he knew more, he didn't mind them - they weren't so different in a universe as wide and full of different as he'd gotten to see. But he'd never really thought about them being nice before Shiro said it, either.
"Thanks," he managed. "I wonder how it picks what we wear." Since it seemed to make everyone look pretty nice. Maybe not as good as Shiro, but still good.
... he needed to stop thinking that.
Keith’s feisty outburst and the blush that came shortly after it put a smile back on Shiro’s face, easily. He snorted a little laugh into his glass before taking the last swig to empty it out. “I have no idea. I don’t think I’d have picked something that stands out this much, so it must not be our subconscious desires or whatever you want to call it.”
His gaze snagged on Keith again though and he had to admit to himself that he might’ve picked his friend’s clothes for him, given half a choice. Or taken a risk and put him in something with more red. Shiro set his empty glass on a table nearby and then slumped back against Keith’s side to whisper conspiratorially.
“Would you change yours to something else? Maybe give yourself a hood?” he teased. He reached up and patted a broad hand over Keith’s face with tipsy abandon. “Or a mask?”
"It's good though. You should stand out. You do anyway," Keith said. He'd have turned more red for having blurted it out, but that probably wasn't possible, so he just fidgeted instead.
Luckily, Shiro didn't seem to notice Keith's babbling, since he was leaning into him and whispering and Keith just leaned back, head tipped toward him to catch what he said - even if he could hear just fine without that. He just liked being close, sharing a secret, even if it wasn't really one.
Then Shiro touched his face and Keith's startled laugh had a bit of a surprised gasp to it, breath puffing out against Shiro's palm. "... maybe," he admitted. He'd sort of thought the Blades look was cool, at least at first. Plus it was just easier when people couldn't tell what you were thinking. Or feeling. Or what color your face was. "But I like this, too." "If I had a hood and mask in here, they might think I was robbing them anyway," he added. He had a weird urge to lick Shiro's hand on his face. Or maybe bite it or kiss it or something. He didn't, since it was weird, but he didn't pull away either.
Shiro didn’t stop patting as Keith answered but he did shift his palm to Keith’s cheek, and then grazed his knuckles down the edge of Keith’s jaw. His hand fell away as he smiled, crooked and warm and definitely too buzzed to realize exactly how fond he looked or how intimate that touch had been.
He was trying very hard not to obsess over the words you should stand out, you do anyway; he was mostly succeeding. But that was almost entirely thanks to the liquor and Keith’s body heat, both of which seemed to send his filter right out the window.
“I don’t think I’d mind being robbed by you in this suit,” he confessed. His eyes closed as he lifted a hand to rub at his own face. “But then I’ve never really minded no matter what you’re wearing.”
Keith's face still felt hot. He just felt kind of warm all over. And as soon as Shiro's hand was gone from his cheek he missed it. Shiro looked at him all the time. They were best friends and they'd been teammates and through a lot together, of course he would. But right now it felt different. It felt ... soft? And warm?
Like maybe it meant something more than it usually did.
Or maybe that was just drinks and magic fancy clothes and Keith's imagination talking.
"Uh," Keith said, train of thought completely derailed and swallowing before he managed to answer. "I only robbed you twice." But yeah, Shiro hadn't gotten mad either time. "I don't remember what I was wearing. Probably nothing special."
Everything about you is special. The thought burned the tip of Shiro’s tongue but, by some grace of God, his drunken brain didn’t let it tumble loose. He’d pushed his luck enough tonight. Anxiety was edging in - Keith’s stunned expression could be good, it could be very good, or it could mean Shiro had crossed a line. He curled a hand around the back of his neck and glanced off in search of something to save him from himself.
A table of party food beckoned.
“I’m starving,” he announced, like an epiphany. But even his anxiety didn’t stop him from hooking an arm around Keith’s shoulders and tugging him along towards the appetizers. He wanted to escape his own dumb mouth and the painfully obvious words coming out of it, after all; he didn’t want to escape Keith. “Let’s go steal some of that food.”
Shiro's hand went to the back of his own neck, instead of back to Keith's face, and he looked away. The moment broke with it and Keith felt that odd disconnect of missing something and being disappointed by it without really knowing if he had any reason to be.
He blinked again, liquor and his own distraction making him slow to catch on to the change in topic. He'd kind of rather another drink more than food, since he was less likely to start overthinking if he kept drinking those without eating much. But he leaned into the arm around his shoulder. He snorted. "I think it's free, but we can try to be stealthy about it if it'll make you feel good," he teased. He picked up one of the little pastries, sniffing at it suspiciously and then tasting a bite before making an approving noise and stuffing another one into Shiro's mouth.