A/N: I have always wanted to write a Civil War klance AU fic so here y'all go. I tried to be accurate, but y'know, nothing's perfect.

The thing about living in a small town in the South of Pennsylvania was that nothing ever happened and then all of a sudden, so many things were happening. The place that had been Keith's home for the past twenty years or so suddenly became a bustling place of business as the residents struggled to put up all the Union soldiers who travelled through towards the border states to fight in the war.

Ah yes, the war. Keith hadn't really encountered slavery before; he was originally from Georgia, but he had emigrated with his parents when he was three, so he didn't remember any of that. None of the people in the town he lived in were wealthy enough to have any slaves, and most of them had immediately gotten on board with the president's Emancipation Proclamation, Keith included.

It still seemed unreal, that there was a civil war going on just a few hundred miles from where he lived, and yet he never heard or saw a glimpse of it. Nothing ever happened in Westward, Pennsylvania, and he was used to that.

And then it became a stop along the route for all the Union soldiers headed for West Virginia and his job as a barkeeper at the one tavern in town was suddenly strained more than he'd ever been used to in his life.

Although getting to see all the men passing through was a definite plus.

Keith had, for the past six years or so, ever since he'd realized that he simply wasn't attracted to females, never been in a relationship, and never talked about wanting one. All jeers and jests at his expense were simply waved off with the excuse of losing his mother then his father as trauma. After all, even if there was a place for blacks in Westward, there was no place for a sodomite. The best he could do was keep it hidden, lest he be forced to fear for his life otherwise.

Still, his job as a bartender made it possible for him to quite easily flirt with some of the soldiers and be able to write it off as being overly friendly and a bit effeminate. His appearance certainly helped with that.

There were a few times that some of them seemed to truly fall for it, with their inhibitions freeing up the more drunk they got. Of course, when morning came, they wanted nothing to do with Keith afterwards, but he didn't care all that much. He'd take what he could get, since it certainly wasn't a lot.

Some of them were actually fairly kind to him afterwards, apologizing for any misconduct they may have had and asking him if he, himself, was okay. Obviously he was; before the war, the only people he could get with were vagrants or travellers, and they were always less than gentle, happy enough to just have a hole for the first time in awhile. Keith was careful not to relish in the attention, knowing he'd never see any of those men again. If they were able to go their separate ways amicably, that was enough for him.

Or at least, it was.

And then he met Lance.

Lance was a member of the seventh platoon, led by commanding officer Takashi Shirogane. Keith had immediately felt an affinity to the man, as he had rarely seen another American of Asian descent this far East. The platoon was staying for a week while they awaited orders and Lance had come to the tavern every night for the past five days. The strange thing was that, for the first time, Keith was pretty sure he was being hit on, not the other way around. But that also just seemed to be Lance.

"Hey sweetie, come here often?" he heard the man say one night to a cute girl sitting a few seats down from him. She looked at him for a few seconds before giggling and linking arms with another man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Keith watched as Lance's eyes widened and he quickly waved the couple off, trying to avoid the stink eye the girl's partner was giving him. Once they'd left the tavern, it was just Lance at the bar now, and Keith poured him a glass of brandy and passed it over.

"She's been in here every other night meeting her fiancee here. If you ever actually bothered to listen to other people, you'd know that," he explained when Lance looked up at him in confusion.

"Aw, are you consolong me?" Lance cooed, graciously accepting the glass as he took a long swig. Keith tried to ignore how sexy the way Lance's Adam's apple bobbed up and down with each swallow was. Once he'd set the glass down, the brunette leaned forward and purred, "How about you, samurai, come here often?"

"First off, I don't even know what that is," Keith replied with a chuckle. "Second, I work here, so… why don't you answer that yourself?"

"You don't know what a samurai is?"

"Seeing as I'm not some well-learned soldier from the North, that would be a no," Keith said as he picked up the empty glasses left by where the girl had been sitting. She'd barely touched the mint julep he'd made for her, but she paid, so it didn't matter he guessed. Still, it meant more mess for him to clean up.

"Trust me, after talking to me for a bit longer, you will quickly realize that I am many things- incredibly handsome, sweet, passionate, romantic- but one thing I certainly am not is learned."

"I don't need to talk to you any longer to know that," Keith teased with a sly grin.

"Well that better not be true; who am I supposed to talk to if you don't want to?" Lowering his voice, Lance winked as he added, "You're the prettiest one here, after all."

Keith scoffed and turned away, using polishing the empty glass mug as an excuse to hide his burning cheeks. He heard snickering coming from behind him and felt a pang of fear shoot through him. This guy was just playing around, wasn't he, just like all the other guys, and-

"You know your ears are red, right?"

Oh.

Oh. So he'd just been jumping to conclusions. So why did he still feel like shit?

"Too bad for you, red's my color," Keith replied, setting the glass down as he finally turned back to Lance with a small smile on his face. The man seemed to notice something was up but before he could comment on it, Keith quickly grabbed his half-empty glass. "Need a refill already, huh? Soldiers really can hold their liquor."

"Not all of us," Lance said instantly, taking the bait. "You should meet my friend Hunk; one drink and he's out like a light! It would be funny if he wasn't such a big dude. You try carrying the a two hundred-something guy back to the tent and suddenly it ain't so hilarious anymore."

"I've handled worse," Keith shrugged. "Taverns aren't really the safest places, if you get my drift."

"You? In a bar fight?" Lance eyed the lithe man up and down before scoffing, "Puh-lease, there's no way you'd win."

"Oh yeah? Wanna go, big boy?"

"Sure, long as it's back to your place. I'd say mine, but it ain't really a solitary place. Unless you like an audience."

"You-!" Keith clamped his jaw set and squeezed the glass so hard it almost cracked as he looked around frantically, making sure no one heard that. The only other people in the bar this late at night was the town drunk, who was slobbering all over himself, and a group of men playing cards at one of the tables in the back. He was safe.

"You need to be more subtle! One slip and my life is hell!" Keith chided.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't think anyone was paying attention to us," Lance said with a wave of his hand. He looked like he genuinely felt bad and that quelled Keith's anger somewhat. "I guess that type of thing isn't really accepted by the people here, huh?"

"And it is up North?" Keith retorted with a raised eyebrow. When Lance didn't respond, he sighed. "That's what I thought. Maybe in a hundred years or so."

"My friend's are just really accepting, so I kinda forget about it." The dark-skinned man seemed a little more subdued, like he'd sobered up a bit. "I'm sorry. One more drink and I'll head out, okay? It was just a little teasing, that's all."

"...was it really?" Keith murmured quietly as he turned back to get a cocktail glass. "What do you want?" he said, this time loud enough for Lance to hear him. He felt all mixed up and confused, not knowing what things Lance had said during the night to believe or not. Maybe he shouldn't believe any of it. That would be easier, right? It wasn't like he'd ever even see Lance again once he left.

That thought wasn't one he wanted at the moment, and he focused his attention on the man sitting across from him, who seemed to be thinking about something.

"...Can I order something special?" Lance asked. Keith was a little surprised but nodded nonetheless.

"If I can make it, then sure. And consider it on the house. My treat for the hard-working soldier;" He offered a smile at the brunette.

"Thanks. Um, do you have cognac?"

"Of course I have cognac, this may be just a tavern, but I try to at least have some class," Keith replied as he grabbed the bottle of coppery liquid. "How much?"

"Oh, it'll all be about the same amount, so… you could wait until I'm done?"

"Sure. What else then?"

"Uh, let's see, I think it was rum-" Keith nodded and reached for the orange bottle of Bacardi on the top shelf. "-and what was it? Triple something."

Keith froze, heart nearly skipping a beat. "...do you mean triple sec?" he asked quietly, turning to look back at Lance, moving the familiar clear bottle to the counter without even looking at it.

"Yeah, that's the one!" Lance exclaimed, looking up at Keith. His expression seemed to soften as he added, "Have you heard of that cocktail before? It's a pretty popular one up in NYC."

"Who do you think I am?" Keith replied, clearing his throat as he turned back to the cocktail glass, pouring the liquids into the shaker with practiced ease. As he shook it, he did everything he could to not focus on the way he could feel Lance watching him with a kind of intensity he'd never seen anyone direct his way before.

When it was finally finished, and he passed the glass over to Lance, the man caught his hand before he could pull away. "If you know it, then you know what I'm asking."

His words were blunt, not minced at all, but they didn't really need to be. He was making his intentions clear and he wasn't even that intoxicated and his eyes weren't glazed over and he wasn't thinking of someone else and he was asking.

Keith was pretty sure he'd won his heart from the second he'd walked into the tavern days ago.

"...Is that gonna be on the house too?" he whispered as he leaned down to wink at Lance. "Because you'd better show me a good time then."

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna show you the best time you've ever had."

The bar for that wasn't very high, but Keith figured he wouldn't point that out.

Not yet anyway.

A/N: The cocktail is the Between the Sheets ;)