DAY 1
"And don't forget to read chapters three to five for Monday," Shiro called after his fleeing high school seniors, knowing full well that it was already halfway through the school year and that his students couldn't care less right now about Shakespeare.
His phone chimed with an alert, his reminder to drop by the principal's office before leaving for the day. For the second time since finding out that Coran wanted to see him, Shiro wondered what it could be about.
He put his things away, organized the pens and pencils in straight lines next to his desk calendar, and began the long trek to the principal's room. He was pretty sure he'd done nothing wrong, but the familiar path brought back memories of his childhood when he was sent to the principal's office for the slightest action that the teachers had deemed 'subordination.'
He paused a moment for more students to clamber their way to freedom and almost stopped to say something to Allura, who'd been giving him more than just her usual mixed signals lately, but he plowed on instead towards his destination.
"Ah, Shiro!" Coran greeted him warmly as ever as he entered the principal's minimalist office. "Thank you for coming in."
"No problem. What's going on?"
"Well it's not good news; let me clear the air right off the bat. But maybe you can give me some good news." He chuckled, and Shiro found he still knew exactly as much about the situation now as he had before walking into the room.
"What," Shiro half stated, half asked, because it was already four in the afternoon, and after eight periods of dealing with fresh newbies and senioritis, Shiro had had it up to here with cryptic messages. Was it just him or was Coran making no sense?
Coran sighed, deep and tired. Weary. "Sven is gone."
Shiro gaped, waiting for elaboration, and Coran didn't disappoint.
"No notice, just AWOL. I don't know if he's sick or what, but we're one gym teacher short. Since you're the one left, I thought I'd ask who you think can come in on short notice. As in who can fill in tomorrow."
"Did you notify the police? Call his family?"
Coran nodded, and Shiro was left in silence and the unknown once more, until he finally ventured to answer the other's question.
"Yeah. Keith can fill in for now until Sven comes back." He sat back in his seat, letting his full weight bear down on the chair, and tried not to think about why Sven would leave like this without warning. Without words. Tried not to think about how sometimes he wished he could do the same.
"Keith!" Coran exclaimed. "Perfect. You can let him know to be prepared for tomorrow." The principal, much lighter on his feet now, tidied up his desk and picked up his bag. "See you tomorrow, Shiro!"
Knowing he was being dismissed, Shiro too stood up to leave but was interrupted when Allura knocked and stuck her head in the room.
"Coran, are you ready to leave- oh! Shiro! Hi!" She brushed her bangs aside and gave a little wave.
"I'll wait in the car, Allura," Coran suggested cheerfully, hurrying out of his own office.
Suddenly, the spacious office felt like the size of a very small elevator that was really only intended for the weight and size of a singular large person.
"Hey," Shiro replied, searching for a safe subject to talk about rather than the feelings he wanted to express. "How were your kids today?"
"They banded together to insist that I teach them various swear words. As ESL students, they need to know what the mean kids are saying to them." She shook her head wearily. "That was a hard one to wiggle out of. But honestly, some of those kids need to see the guidance counselor."
"Well, at least the day's over. You going home now?"
"Yeah. I should get going. Don't want to keep Coran waiting." Allura smiled and it reached her eyes.
Shiro smiled back and was on the verge of asking her when she was free when Keith poked his head in the door.
"Shiro, there you are." He eyed Allura and shot a knowing look at Shiro. "Should I go on without you?"
Allura cleared her throat and turned to Keith. "Oh, no I was just heading out. See you both tomorrow."
When she was gone, Keith and Shiro fell into step, like they always did.
"When are you gonna get some— I mean, ask her out?" Keith asks.
A little sour about the ruined potential of a date, Shiro sighed. "Maybe if you had just waited outside, I could have asked her but nooooo, you had to open the door." Knowing full well that he was whining at this point, he headed back to his classroom to gather his things.
Keith followed suit and was midway to covering his yawn when Shiro said, more to his desk than to Keith, "Sven's gone."
Keith's head snapped around in a way that must have hurt, but he gave no indication of pain as he just stared at Shiro.
"What do you mean gone?"
Shiro snapped his briefcase shut and it sounded strangely like the snap of a scissor cutting through thread. "He's gone. No one knows where. Even Coran doesn't know. He's just... gone."
Keith's face was still pale, still ghost-like, but Shiro was already moving on, voice trying to sound happy despite what he just said. "But don't worry about it. Worry about tomorrow instead. With Sven gone, you're going to be my new assistant."
Keith blinked and seemed to be having a hard time processing, so Shiro dug in deeper, swinging the classroom door closed and nudging Keith along. "And we've got juniors tomorrow."
"Oh, no." Keith shook his head defiantly, as if denying the inevitable would make it go away. "I never agreed to this. Ask...literally anyone else."
"Too late," Shiro called as he lead the way to his car. "Coran already gave the okay." He opened the passenger door and bowed for Keith to enter. "You're doomed."
"You know I would literally die for you," Keith stated matter-of-factly, "but I draw the line at assistant gym teacher for sweaty juniors."
"Oh so you're just going to leave me alone with them instead? Your own brother? How can you?"
"We're not brothers," Keith grumbled, but it was half-hearted.
Shiro could see his friend's resolve crumbling. He almost felt guilty, but he really didn't want to lead that class alone. He knew what he had to do next to secure victory. "Just get in the car already and maybe I'll swing by that ice cream store you really like. My treat."
"Are you seriously trying to bribe me as if I'm eight?" But he got into the Kia nonetheless.
"But it's working isn't it," Shiro questioned, inwardly punching the sky in victory as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the cute little ice cream shop they had discovered one rainy day when they'd ducked into a random store to avoid the thunder.
"I'll eat the ice cream, Shiro, but don't act like you don't love it just as much." Keith was still grumbling, but as they got closer and closer to the ice cream shop, his mood was palpably lifting. When they were finally seated at the tables with their sundaes, Keith was onto a different topic altogether. "You know, I can't wait to start the next unit with my kids. They've been working on black and white sketches for months, and I just know they're gonna go crazy when I bring out the colors."
"Wait. Are these the same kids who tried to draw a dick on the board with a Sharpie, and then tried to wiggle their way out of trouble by saying they' were only using the techniques you taught them to draw it?" Shiro's eyebrows went up and would have disappeared into his hair if it were possible.
Keith's face screwed up with distaste as he gulped too hard. "Why would you bring that up while we're eating?" he deadpanned. "Although, I've since found that drawing suggestive things on the board during my demonstrations gets their attention and makes them more interested in the class. Why are teenagers so predictable?"
"But they're also so lovable, don't you think? The endless enthusiasm. The need to prove themselves. Their excitement over simple things." Shiro sighed, putting his spoon down and pushing the empty cup aside. "Ah, how nice it'd be to be young again."
Keith snorted. "Shut up, you talk like you're so old, ugh. Making me feel ancient too. So anyway, what's the latest drama from English class?"
Shiro perked up at that as he counted out the coins for the check. "Oh my god! Remember when I was telling you about my eighth period class where like half of them basically failed their essays cause they all copied each other and I had to give them a talking to?"
Keith raised an eyebrow but continued sucking away at the last of his sundae as the waitress came by to take the bill.
"They've learned their lesson, and this time, they all did so well!" Shiro was practically vibrating with pride as he slapped more than what was a good tip on the table.
"All fresh and exciting takes on Hamlet's Oedipus complex?" Keith mused, loudly getting the last bits of his ice cream into his mouth with the straw.
"Actually," Shiro started, but he was cut off by a blue buggy pulling up along the sidewalk; it looked familiar, with a pair of giant pink fuzzy dice on the rearview mirror, and he nearly choked as Allura stepped out and made her way to the ice cream shop.
"Act cool," Keith whispered urgently. "Act like you don't see her."
"I definitely see her!" Shiro panic-whispered, unsure where his cool had gone.
"I know! But let her come up to you, and then you can invite her to sit."
"Sit? I just paid the bill! I-" Shiro was cut off as the little bell on the door rang when Allura pushed it open and beelined for the cake display. It didn't look like she had seen the two brothers, and Shiro resisted the urge to slink down in his seat as if he was four again and just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Keith rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, refusing to be a part of this disaster any longer.
Meanwhile, Allura placed her order, and while she waited, her eyes lazily scanned the room. They passed over Shiro and Keith, froze, doubled back, and widened. Hi, she mouthed at them with an enthusiastic wave. She turned back to the cashier and took her purchase from him before heading over to Shiro.
She stopped in front of the table and a floral scent followed her, wafting over as if to lure Shiro out from under the table. It worked and he sat up straighter, a smile naturally working its way onto his face, because it was Allura, and she was just as beautiful as she was in the morning. She had clearly gone home to change and take off her makeup before heading back out, and Shiro was awed to see proof of what he already knew—that Allura could literally look good in everything.
"How nice to run into you two here!" She smiled warmly, looking from one man to the other, waiting for someone to pick up the conversation.
There was a beat of silence beyond Keith's phone bopping along to some game he was playing before Shiro picked up the thread Allira had dropped. "Yeah. What a coincidence, huh?"
He felt Keith kick him subtly under the table and vowed that he was never ever going to treat him to ice cream ever again.
"Getting a cake? What's the occasion ?" Shiro slinked an arm to rest on the back of the chair; Allura's eyes followed his prosthetic limb and he was suddenly conscious of the short sleeve he was wearing.
It was no secret that he had lost his arm when he was young and naive working with Doctors without Borders. He had been captured by militant insurgents and held hostage for days before being rescued. An arm lost and a scar earned had been the least of his worries then.
"Um," Allura redirected her gaze to Shiro's face, expression no less warm than it was a moment ago. "No occasion. Just felt like treating myself. How about you two?"
Keith decided to pop his head up to answer, hands still typing away at a message to someone. "Shiro was bribing me into becoming his assistant gym teacher."
Shiro was torn away from his focus on Allura and back to his traitorous brother. "I was doing no such thing."
Keith went back to his phone, clearly checking on the conversation and leaving Shiro to flounder as Allura continued to stand at their table. Should he offer her a seat? She had clearly only meant to stop by, and he had already paid the check too.
The waitress had been kind enough not to kick them out since there weren't any other customers in the small shop besides the three of them. She actually looked like she wanted them to stay longer, if only to satisfy her own curiosity about their drama.
A moment of awkward silence passed, in which the only sound was Keith tapping away at his phone. What kind of heathen didn't mute his keyboard?
Then Allura took half a step back. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, then. Good luck in gym class, Keith." She chuckled and left.
Shiro watched her go, and Keith took the opportunity to kick his friend under the table again. "Should we go too?"
As Allura's blue buggy slid out of view, Shiro sighed long and hard.
"Are you actually pining for her? You do know you'll see her tomorrow, right?" Keith actually looked disgusted as he finally put his phone away and stood up, hands on the table. "She literally said, 'See you tomorrow.'"
Shiro attempted to look casual. "I'm not pining. Just wish I would've been less tongue-tied, that's all."
"Man, I told you to act cool." Keith shook his head, disappointed.
"Oh please. Just wait until you have a crush on someone. You think you'll be all smooth around them?"
"So you admit you're crushing!" Keith smirked. "And don't worry. I don't do crushes."
"Riight," Shiro dragged out as he finally took his leave of the ice cream shop. "You don't do crushes." He made finger quotes with his hands and dropped them when Keith made an attempt to slap his fingers. "Don't pretend like I don't know about you and Mr. Alvarez." He was halfway to doing finger quotes again but instead, chose the safer option of going for his car keys to beep the doors open.
"What? Lance? What about him?" The innocent tone was well-executed, but it wasn't fooling Shiro.
"Uh huh, okay," he said, unimpressed. "Who were you texting back there while I was talking to Allura?"
Keith snorted. "That was talking?"
"Answer the question."
"I was texting Lance. What's your point?"
Shiro opted to let silence speak for itself, wearing a smug look as he got into the car.
"How did the tables turn like this?" Keith muttered to himself as he got in.
Shiro smirked and didn't answer the question. They settled into comfortable silence as the scenery flew by on their drive home. Their apartment came into view and he let Keith get out first while he tried to find a parking spot; he settled for a spot two blocks away and on his walk back to his building, took a breath and let his worries and anxieties melt away with the setting sun.
Shiro walked in to find Keith bustling in the kitchen. "The slow cooker's done, and it smells great," Keith called.
Shiro walked over and peeked in from the doorway.
"I left it on warm," Keith said. "You can get started on grading those fantastic essays until it's dinner time. And I have lesson plans to do. I'll have a shower first though."
Keith disappeared and Shiro was left with the quiet humming of the fridge; he hung his keys on the rack and went into his room to change. Trading his button up shirt for a casual T-shirt was like lifting a weight off his shoulders; he hadn't realized how wound up he'd gotten when Allura was in his vicinity. As the shower turned on and some kind of pop music blared from the bathroom, Shiro gathered his students' papers and put them neatly next to his lined up pens, which featured a multitude of colors except red.
Red, after all, induced stress in students, he had read. So he had always opted for purple when grading.
He only got through one paper before the water turned off, indicating Keith was done. Shiro smiled fondly to himself. That Keith, always in a hurry for everything, ever since they were kids. He set aside the graded paper—a solid B+—into a new pile and grabbed a fresh T-shirt and shorts from his dresser. He heard grumbling, and the music turned muffled, as Keith closed his bedroom door. A moment later, Keith shot out of his room with tousled hair and knitted eyebrows, already booping away on the phone. Kids and their phones. Shiro sighed. Back in his day...
He shut down that thought before it was finished. He should be happy for Keith and the younger generation for having more opportunities than he had had. He shouldn't be ungrateful. But he knew if Keith could hear these thoughts, he'd get riled up about Shiro considering himself part of a previous generation. Now grumbling himself, Shiro also went into the bathroom to take a shower.
As the cool water washed over his body, Shiro took a moment to breathe and think back to what happened in the ice cream shop and the missed opportunity with Allura. He reached for the shampoo bottle, lost in thought, but was jolted back to reality when he squeezed the bottle and absolutely nothing came out.
"Keith!," he yelled through the closed door. "What the f- Why isn't there any shampoo left?"
"My bad!" Keith called back. "Lemme just..."
There were muffled clunking and banging sounds as Keith presumably sifted through cabinets while Shiro stood under the water.
"Uh, we're out. You want me to run out and get some?"
Of course they'd be out of shampoo. Of course. The one time Shiro didn't do the weekly grocery shopping, Keith would just forget to buy shampoo.
"Uh. Yes," he shouted through the door, because how was that even a question? The water continued to run. "And hurry up. If it keeps running like this, you're paying the water bill this time."
All Shiro heard was Keith muttering, "As if I don't already pay the water bill every month," before another loud bang indicated that Keith had run out to get said shampoo.
Shiro used his extra time in the water to relax, turning up the temperature and switching the showerhead to massage setting. He quickly turned around, and pellets of hot water shot out against his back and shoulders, literally washing the tension away. He rarely allowed himself this luxury; he tried to the water bill as low as possible, eking by on a teacher's salary as he and Keith were.
With each shot of water, a new stress was dislodged.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing, almost meditating under the steaming water. He had taken off his prosthetic before hopping into the shower, and the water curled around his stump before falling, swirling into the drain below.
The apartment door slammed open, so much louder than necessary that Shiro could hear it vibrating all the way in the bathroom.
Loud footfalls, and a moment later, Keith burst into the bathroom. "Here's your damn shampoo." He slammed it on the sink, out of breath from running.
"Thanks," Shiro said tentatively, poking his head out from behind the curtain.
"Just rub soap into it and go, jeez," Keith bit out as he held a stitch in his side. "All you have is one floof anyway."
"Uh, excuse me. Ladies like the floof very much."
"Ladies," Keith wheezed back. "Or just one lady in particular, right?"
Shiro suddenly lost interest in their banter and disappeared behind the curtain again. He furiously lathered up the shampoo and dragged it through his hair.
"Nothing to say now?" He heard Keith teasing over the sound of water and ignored it, blindly reaching a hand out for the body wash instead. He grabbed air and poked his head around the shower curtain.
Keith stood at the sink, lounging against the counter as if he had all the time in the world. In his hand was the bottle of body wash. "I'm not giving it back until you tell me how you feel about her."
"Give it back, Keith," Shiro deadpanned. He was in no mood for games but Keith only backed up towards the door, bottle in hand.
"Admit it," his brother sang as he wrapped the towels hanging on the back of the door around himself. "You like her."
Shiro threw the new shampoo bottle at him in answer.
Keith dodged it easily. "Come on. I can't hear you." He dangled the body wash mere feet away from Shiro, who would rather fling himself onto an open fire than respond.
"Keith, my bro, my friend. Give me my body wash."
Keith merely stood by the door, stubborn as ever. Well that was a game two could play. Shiro slid the curtain closed, lathered his body with the bar soap like some caveman, and finished up his shower in silence.
How did he feel about Allura? He had a crush, plain and simple. He'd fully thought he'd grown out of crushes until getting to know her. It was a relief when he finally stopped denying his own feelings. But he still didn't want to admit it out loud. If Keith knew what Shiro was thinking, he'd ask simply, 'What are you afraid of?'
And what was Shiro afraid of?
His last relationship… His chest hurt with the mere thought of it. The last time he'd been with anyone seriously was Adam, and that had ended less than amicably, with Shiro doubting whether he could ever be a good partner. And now Allura… She was interested. He wasn't blind. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd let her down too.
He turned off the water, grabbed his towel, and wrapped it around himself before getting out. The shower curtain was pushed aside so that he could finally see Keith's face clearly for the first time since this whole thing started. He looked soft, no longer teasing; and most of all, it was a kind expression that made Keith look like a child again. Then he spoke.
"Oh you've got it bad, don't you?"
Leave it to Keith to ruin a good moment.
"So are you done with those lesson plans, then?" Shiro had learned long ago that the best way to get Keith to back off was to turn the heat right back on him. And if there was one thing Shiro knew about Keith's job as an art teacher, it was that Keith only enjoyed the art bit and not the teacher bit.
"I could've been if someone didn't yell at me to go get him shampoo," Keith responded, hand already opening the door, already half fleeing at the reminder of work.
"You can blame yourself," Shiro muttered lowly as he pushed his way past Keith. Outside the bathroom, their apartment smelled divine as the smell of food drifted from their small kitchen.
"I'll join you in a bit," Shiro called, as he ducked into his room to change. When he emerged, it was with his essays tucked under an arm. Keith had already gotten started on his work, tapping away at his laptop.
"I've gotten ahead of you," Keith muttered, without taking his eyes off the document on his screen.
The two of them had a method of getting through their work efficiently: some good old-fashioned competition. Because otherwise, they weren't getting anything done in time. And it was hard to demand timeliness from your students when you weren't on top of things yourself.
"I'll catch up soon," Shiro chuckled. "You're a slowpoke."
Keith pulled his laptop closer to himself in response, eyes almost glued to the screen as if this would help him make his lesson plans faster. Shiro rolled his eyes at this and marked another grammar mistake on the paper he was grading. They said nothing more, and the only sounds heard were the clacking of the keyboard, the rustling of papers, and the slow cooker lazily simmering away, driving both of them crazy with the delicious smell of its contents.
It was almost seven when Shiro finally put his pen down and moved the final essay to the finished pile. He straightened the papers out and glanced over at Keith who was still furiously typing away; it was like Keith thought if he smashed the keys hard enough, his lesson planning would go faster.
A moment later, just this side of breaking his laptop, Keith leaned away from it, triumphant. "Done!"
"I still beat you," Shiro pointed out.
"Just let me have this." Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath of freedom air, having finished his most hated teacherly duty. Then he cracked one eye open at Shiro. "Wanna eat?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Shiro was already halfway out of his chair, moving towards the slow cooker. "What'd we make for dinner again?"
"I made chicken and dumpling. You, on the other hand, made whatever that thing is." Keith pointed to the awkward little lump of dough that didn't look like a dumpling at all; its stuffings were spilled out the side as if someone had gutted it.
"It's still edible though," Shiro defended as he pulled utensils from the cabinet and used his chopsticks to poke at his poor dumpling child.
Keith dug into his meal with relish, making all but sinful noises of pleasure at the flavor.
Shiro shot him a dirty look. "You don't have to rub it in my face."
"I'm gonna share with you; stop being dramatic." Keith spooned a bit of his food into Shiro's plate, poking experimentally at the sad dumpling Shiro had made.
The said dumpling sagged even further and Keith immediately retreated as Shiro looked on. "Are you serious right now?"
Keith had the decency to look abashed for a mere second before he turned it right around on his brother. "If you hadn't made it so poorly, that wouldn't have happened."
Shiro said nothing and just grumbled to himself and viciously stabbed at the food that Keith had doled on his plate.
When they were done, they fell into routine; Shiro washed the dishes and Keith dried them, putting the silverware away into the drawers. Then, they sat down in front of their small TV, opened up Netflix, and continued watching another episode of Parks and Recreation that had Keith in tears and Shiro on the floor, dying from laughter.
After some bickering about who was going to use the bathroom first—a battle Shiro won but only by a whisker when he used the 'I'm a handicapped person' card—they retreated into their respective bedrooms, bidding each other good night.
Shiro watered his plants. Keith put his phone to charge. They turned off the lights and slept without dreams.
- This is a collaborative story between sleapyGazelle and I. Unfortunately, FF does not allow co-authors so I am posting on her behalf. You can check out the story as well on AO3 with the same title and it correctly displays both our names as authors.
- This story was born out of our love and appreciation for the beautiful bond that Shiro and Keith share, and of course our respective ships found their way into the story as we wrote. We always have so much fun writing together, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it just as much.
- Enjoy and comments are much appreciated. Thank you!