Before we begin, you should check mikoriin's amazing piece based on the first chapter on their tumblr. Thank you!

iii. saw you twice at the pop show

The first few days in the Kogane mansion are surprisingly uneventful. Keith only ever leaves to walk Kosmo in the late afternoons, and new faces only appear when Friday comes around and a group of six women shows up to clean the house. Were Shiro not making use of the gym facility in the mornings and joining Keith's workout in the afternoons, he'd be filled to the brim with nervous energy.

Not used to sitting around for so long, he tries to be useful when he isn't following Keith around, but there is little he can do to aid Xi in house chores when the man himself doesn't do much. Xi's role in the house, aside from sorting mail, preparing snacks and putting the dishes away, is simply to keep Keith company during the day.

Being a bodyguard isn't so bad when it's supposed to last for just a few hours, but the last three days are already getting to him. Shiro misses his home, his double sized bed and simple cotton sheets. He misses his cat sleeping on his pillow by his head in the mornings and then sitting by the coffee machine, tail flicking as he went about fixing his breakfast. This big house isn't really his style.

Xi messages him at night saying he will need to resolve some family issues in the morning, so he won't be able to come and introduce Shiro to the cleaning crew, but he already contacted their company and warned them to wear their IDs in visible places. Shiro wakes up even earlier for that, hits the gym and showers, and confirms their identities with the help of a detailed email sent to him by Ms. Luxia,owner of the cleaning company. Kosmo jumps around the women's legs and bask in the attention they give him, then the dog follows Shiro to the kitchen once he begins looking through the fridge for his breakfast, tail high in the air.

Shiro retrieves ingredients for a simple omelet and gets the coffee brewing, stepping around Kosmo who sits right in the middle of the kitchen and twists his neck around to follow Shiro with his alert gaze. If there's one thing Black and Kosmo have in common is that they both wait for him to drop something tasty. Usually he will slip Black a bit of ham, but Kosmo isn't really his and he doesn't want to risk it.

"Good morning, Shiro." He turns to see Keith join him in the kitchen, dressed in a lacy nightdress and a pastel pink satin robe. Shiro glances at the clock to make sure it's indeed nine in the morning when Keith purrs again. "Make me breakfast?"

He's not that great of a cook and most his attempts in the kitchen are simple things that are decent just enough to be eaten, so he's not really qualified to cook food for a man like Keith - but does he have another choice? Not really. "Good morning, Mr. Keith. What would you like to eat?"

Keith leans onto the counter, chin resting on his palm, and hums whilst his eyes trail up and down Shiro's body.

Wrong question.

"Avocado toast and sunny-side up eggs?" Keith blinks up at him innocently, and Shiro can feel a shiver crawling down his arms.

Not bothering to reply verbally, Shiro turns to the pantry to prepare Keith's breakfast. At least it's something relatively easy that he can do, and it's just his luck that he knows how to cook sunny-side ups perfectly. Katie hates them, but Matt and Shiro like adding one on top of fried rice when they order takeout. He whisks the ingredients of his own omelet together so he can use the frying pan right after Keith's food is done.

Shiro sets the plate on the table mat placed before Keith on the counter. "Would you like anything else, sir?"

"Coffee. Oh, and non-dairy creamer, the hazelnut one."

Shiro hesitates and settles down on a stool, keeping the seat right beside Keith's empty. It's odd enough as it is to have a meal together, he doesn't need to make it weirder by sitting too close. Keith eats in silence, browsing his phone and tapping messages in between bites, and Shiro manages to have his breakfast without choking at some potential risque thing Keith could say.

"May I ask why you're awake so early, Mr. Keith?"

Keith turns around on the stool to face him, smiling. "I thought we could do something fun today."

Shiro waits for him to elaborate, but Keith doesn't say anything else. "May I ask what?"

"Surely." He claps his hands together and places them on his thighs to lean forward. "So my friend Troye is performing tonight at the Greek Theatre and of course I'm going, so I thought I should bring him a nice little gift." Shiro wonders how expensive this nice little gift will cost. "Plus, you're not going looking like that."

Shiro lifts a brow. Given the way Keith oggles him on a daily basis, Shiro is pretty sure he looks good in suits, not that he didn't know it before he was assigned as his bodyguard. "What about it?"

"You'll stand out."

"I brought casual clothes in my bag."

"Do you think I'll let you close to Troye wearing anything less than Giorgio Armani?" Keith scoffs and hops off the stool, swiping at the longer strands of hair on his neck in an attempted sassy hair sweep. "I sent a message to Kolivan. Our driver will be here in an hour. Get ready, you'll be carrying all of my bags."

The idea of finally leaving the house to do anything is so appealing Shiro doesn't even mind carrying more than a dozen shopping bags. He doesn't like leaving the house unattended, however. Xi answers the call and reassures him it's okay to leave the girls by themselves and that he will soon arrive. Satisfied with that, he looks for either Florona or Plaxum to warn them they're about to leave, and tries to kill time as best as he can until Keith is ready to go. He spends a good time looking at Black's pictures again and rewatching the videos he recorded weeks prior.

His phone pings with a notification that Regris is already outside waiting for them, and Shiro doesn't even need to call for Keith. The man shows up at the top of the stairs just as Shiro is walking towards them, dressed in yet another overly short piece. Either the skirt of this dress is the size of a belt or it's actually just a long sweater, Shiro can't tell, but rides up Keith's thighs with every step. Shiro keeps his eyes dutifully turned away.

He knows better than to say anything, so he only leads Keith outside and opens the door of the black BMW for him - and closes it before Keith can try to get Shiro to join him on the backseat.

"Good morning, Regris." Keith reaches over the driver's seat to pat the man on the shoulder. "Take me to my favorite place, will you?"

Like most people that work for Marmora Services, Regris isn't a man of many words, so he pulls away and doesn't say anything for the duration of the ride. Being charismatic to talk to their clients isn't part of the job, but it doesn't stop Keith from pointing out places he likes to visit, places Shiro surely will have to go with him at some point. He even connects his phone to the car via Bluetooth and blasts some songs with questionable lyrics.

Regris is one of the best drivers at Mamora, skilled in evasive driving in a way Shiro wishes he was, and of course Kolivan would assign him to drive Keith wherever he wants. He's probably used to it, too, because he doesn't even ask for an address and knows what streets to take to reach a big shopping mall as quickly as possible.

From the outside, the mall looks like a place Shiro would have to pay to breathe its air. Inside, it's full of brand-name stores left and right, and crowded with people dressed in expensive outfits walking equally expensive looking dogs, their furs trimmed just the right way so they look more fake than real. Kosmo doesn't look like a rich person's dog close to all these Pomeranians wearing shiny collars. Shiro's not the only personal bodyguard here, and many nannies dressed in white are looking after babies and small kids.

Immediately, Shiro maps all exits in his head and calculates possible escape routes whilst trailing after Keith as the man starts his shopping trip with some harmless window shopping. He takes notice of staircases and elevators, cameras, and security guards scouting the area on segways. So far no one seems to recognize Keith, and Shiro hopes they won't have to make a hasty retreat, because Keith told Regris to not wait for them on the parking lot.

"I'm going to start with Troye's gift."

Shiro barely catches the name of the store before he finds himself surrounded by diamonds and gold. A beautiful chandelier hangs from the ceiling right above a circular display table that Keith immediately bee-lines to, peering through the glass at the jewelry laying there on satin. Shiro keeps few paces behind him, turned to the door to watch incomers as a woman dressed in uniform comes to Keith offering help, her tone as sugary as Keith's as she talks to him like they're old friends. He can't help but look over his shoulder at Keith a handful of times to make sure he's okay.

"Shiro," Keith calls out, waving a hand to beckon him closer. "Help me pick a gift."

He stares down at three different necklaces placed on display stands, all three too much alike for him to pick. One silver with white stones on the pendant, another rose gold with pink gems, and the last one would be a rather simple band were it not studded with diamonds in its entirety.

The attendant and Keith are looking intently at him, waiting for his answer. "I, uh... I'm sorry, I don't know."

Keith looks up at the ceiling. "Ugh, men." The woman laughs, and Shiro tries not to frown. "They're from three different collections." He turns back to the necklaces, observes them for a little longer and looks back at Shiro, pointing at the last one. "Is thirty thousand dollars an overkill?"

If Shiro had recurring health problems in his lineage, he'd probably die of cardiac arrest right now. Keith is looking at him expectantly, genuinely interested in what he has to say, and he doesn't dare look at the attendant because she wants Keith to take this one home, and more. He clears his throat. "Perhaps something... Simpler?"

Keith raises his eyebrows at him like he can't believe he's hearing these words. He probably can't.

"What I mean is," Shiro hurries to explain, "he's a singer, right? He's always performing and dressing up for shows, so maybe something that wouldn't get on his way and would... Match with most things he owns?" Keith nods slowly, and Shiro can almost see the gears turning in his head as he looks around in search of a good item, walking them over to it. "Like this? Simple but... Tasteful?"

Does Shiro even know what he's talking about?

Keith analyzes the necklace with some kind of severity Shiro has never seen on him before, reading along the description as he ponders it over. White gold, six diamonds, 0.16 carats - and the number in the pricetag is much friendlier in Shiro's opinion, although it's still way out of his budget. He's doing Krolia a favor, really, but he still feels bad for her bank account.

"We'll take this one," Keith says with finality, and Shiro can feel the woman burning a hole on the back of his head.

He carries the parcel with care wherever they go, then his attention has to be split between watching their surroundings and tending to the steadily growing pile of purchases. Soon he's balancing boxes on top of one another and at least three bags are hanging from the crook of his elbow. Keith is far from done spending so much money, and Shiro wonders if he can find something like a shopping cart to make this easier.

With two new additional bags in his care, he looks at Keith and freezes. "Where'd you get that?"

Keith turns to him, blinking slowly, and takes the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet pop that has Shiro's guts twisting too pleasantly. "I have a secret stash in my bedroom." Keith opens his tiny purse to show the colored wrappings inside, but Shiro is too busy looking at the glossy red tint the candy left on his lips. "Do you want one?"

"No, thank you." Shiro replies quickly, averting his eyes, not looking at Keith to gauge if he has seen his reaction or not.

Keith merely shrugs like he doesn't care and brings the lollipop to his mouth again, tongue swirling around it in a display that leaves Shiro almost weak at the knees. Shiro has to wrench his eyes away again and focus on anything else, literally anything. Keith stands there checking his notifications again, occasionally making slurping sounds that won't leave Shiro alone for days to come.

He's calmed down enough when Keith laughs and Shiro turns to him on instinct. "Wow, Paris Hilton just followed me on Twitter!" Keith twirls the lollipop and keeps scrolling. "I love her, she's so iconic."

Shiro's brain, still fried from the earlier display, prompts dumbly. "Um… Who?"

Keith halts halfway through returning the candy to his mouth. Shiro thanks God for small mercies. "You know, Paris Hilton? The one that wore the 'stop being poor' shirt? 'Can I have five more of these little blonde bitches?' No?" Keith sucks the lollipop so loudly it's a wonder Shiro doesn't react outwardly. That thing about thanking God? He's going to rethink it "You're hopeless."

Keith gets tired of trying to explain and flips a dismissive hand. All Shiro can do now is wait for Keith to decide what he wants to do. That is until both their phones ping simultaneously, but with both his hands occupied, he can only hope that Keith will want to sit down somewhere since it might be important.

"Oh look, it's us."

Keith brings his phone close to Shiro's face. The first thing Shiro sees is that Thace is the sender of the message, a purple heart placed after his name. The second and last, and most important thing, is a series of pictures of Keith and Shiro earlier in the parking lot, grainy in a way that indicates the photographer was far away. Surely it will be all over the tabloids by the end of the day.

"Imagine having this much free time and using it to stalk people." Keith locks and pockets his phone with a roll of his eyes, and throws the lollipop stick in the first trash can they find. "Anyways, I'm thirsty. Let's get something."

Shiro almost hates himself for suggesting a drink with a straw, but it might be exactly the kind of thing Keith likes. "How about a milkshake or frappuccino?"

"Hmm, as much as I'd like to, I have to watch my figure." Keith runs his hand down his side and cocks his hips to he right. "What's the skinniest thing they sell at Starbucks? I don't really go there, it's not really my style."

What's the equivalent of Starbucks for rich people, if there even is one? "I think you've earned a drink." Shiro says sincerely, because living on a restrict diet isn't really living. "You workout a lot."

Keith clearly likes what he hears, looking up at Shiro through his lashes. "Why, thank you. Obviously, I don't workout as much as you do, you walking sex god." He steps closer; if it weren't for the multitude of bags, he'd probably glue himself to Shiro's front. Still, he pats Shiro's pecs twice. "Let's go get something then."

Instead of looking through the menu to choose something to order, Keith spends ten minutes looking at the merch on display, twirling all cups and mugs in his hands and poking at the coffee bean bags. Starbucks is just a place Shiro frequents sometimes when he needs a strong cup of coffee to push through a shift, or a place that's casual enough for the rare date he goes to, so he can't really recommend anything to Keith that isn't just coffee or a simple latte. He scopes out a vacant table on the court and keeps his eyes on it as Keith finally steps in line.

Keith approaches the cashier, "Hi, what drink would you recommend?"

The girl gapes at him from behind the counter, her wide brown eyes blinking rapidly. "Holy shit, you're Keith Kogane."

"The one and only." Shiro sees Keith smiling at her. The teen behind the counter nearly melts.

"Can-" she looks around at her coworkers preparing drinks "-can you take a selfie with me?"

"Of course,why not." He extends a hand and she places her phone on it, and Shiro has to watch as Keith makes kissy faces and winks at the camera and the girl smiles so wide it's blinding.

They share a few more words he tunes out, and before Shiro and Keith head for a table, Keith slips a hundred in the tip jar on the counter, which earns him a squeak and an excited wave from the cashier. Shiro finally gets a chance to set down the bags and rest his arms, kneading at the muscles with a soft sigh. Keith sits down primly and takes his phone from his bag.

"That was very nice of you, Mr. Keith."

"I wasn't raised in the jungle, so I know how to be nice to fans that aren't assholes." He shrugs a shoulder, but doesn't look up. "Besides, I'm a rich bitch. I leave good tips if I can."

He isn't as kind to people that have wronged him in some way, or people that get too much into his personal space - Kolivan told Shiro as much. At first, Shiro had expected Keith to be the snotty kind of individual that thinks he's above everyone else, so he's pleasantly surprised that Keith knows how to appreciate a fan - a well behaved fan. When you're enrolled in Shiro's line of work, you see many things on a daily basis, and he was dreading having to witness these cases from up close.

Many heads turn when the barista calls out Keith's full name. Shiro bites back a curse and stands to retrieve the order. Paparazzi already know they're here and Keith exposes himself on top of it all. At least Thace is already aware of the situation, so Regris will probably bring backup with him when it's time to go back to the mansion.

He glares at anyone that points their phones in Keith's direction until they put it back down. Shiro sips both drinks, making direct eye contact with barista until the young man is squirming. Satisfied that the drinks taste fine and don't seem to be tampered with, he backtracks to the table and reclaims his seat.

Keith takes the taller drink, the one with a straw (of course), but eyes the white cup Shiro placed in front of him. "I got you the hot chocolate for you. Can I try it?"

"Of course."

He sips it, makes a show of smacking his lips and pushes the cup away. "Hmm, doesn't taste like Belgian hot chocolate."

Shiro nearly snorts. Their realities are too far apart. "Thank you for getting me a drink."

"Anything for my favorite bodyguard." Keith swirls his frappuccino and takes an experimental sip. Aware of what is to happen this time, Shiro keeps his eyes trained far from Keith's face. "Tell me what you used to do before Marmora hired you."

"Nothing special. I joined the Air Force after graduating high school."

"Oooh, that's exciting." Keith shifts, bumping his foot on Shiro's shin when he crosses his legs. "What else?"

"That's pretty much it. Stayed in active duty, piloted in national events, and all that." Thankfully was never sent to fight a war or did something he'd regret for the rest of his life. "Then I left."

Keith tilts his head, speaking around the straw. "Why'd you leave? Not that I'm complaining to have you around me all day long, of course."

Shiro can't hold back his chuckle this time. Keith's grin widens in response. "I wanted to do something else. Flying was fun, but it wasn't fulfilling enough."

"Are you satisfied now?"

He shrugs. Does anyone ever feel satisfied with where they're at in life? "I'm still finding my place."

Keith grows quiet, drinking his frappuccino, staring at nothing in deep contemplation. Shiro doesn't let himself read too much into his silence, unconvinced that this small exchange could have prompted Keith into questioning his life choices, and drains his cup, grateful for the chance to rest his feet and arms.

A few minutes later, Keith pushes away his half finished frappuccino, muttering something about calorie bomb, and stands up with a sniff. "Let's make sure you find your place in this world well dressed then."

Shiro scrambles to gather all the bags and follow Keith. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not letting you close to Troye wearing nothing less than Armani, remember? Let's go."

He tries to protest, but Keith chooses to ignore him. Shiro has no use for expensive clothes when the ones he owns work just fine, and he doesn't want Keith spending money on him either. Buying him a drink is one thing, buying designer clothes is another, and if Kolivan or Thace ever find out Shiro is be doomed.

The floor of the shop is so white and polished Shiro can see his own face. It reflects the shiny black furniture and the poster of a model hanging on the wall, and Keith's shoes squeak obnoxiously as he saunters up to an attendant. The man recognizes him, shakes his hand and turns to Shiro when Keith makes a grand gesture his way with a proclamation that they're here for a makeover. Another attendant comes and whisks the bags away, and the one helping them - Haxus, the name tag says - eyes him critically.

Haxus sets some shirts on a glass counter, smoothes the fine fabric with his hands and talks about the composition and description of each piece he picked especially for him. Shiro doesn't even bother to listen, only tries to protest when Keith turns to ask if he's liked anything, but his charge brushes him off and puts aside a shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Please, sir. This isn't necessary." Keith's only response is to shove the clothes into his chest and point a finger to the changing rooms.

"Change. Now."

Shiro closes the black curtains and kneads his temple. Okay, maybe he can repay this somehow, find a way to make his money end up in Krolia's bank account. Kolivan can help him if he asks. Shiro turns the price tag over to check the number and feels his soul leaving his body. Okay, okay, so he'll have trouble to repay it. Perhaps she'll let him pay back little by little? How can anyone even pay this much for a plain black shirt?

With a deep breath, he takes off his suit and hangs it to carefully put on the clothes offered by Keith. Haxus guessed his size just by looking at him. Shiro turns this way and that, looking at the mirror. They look good, that he has to admit. The outfit hugs every curve of his body snugly and doesn't feel too tight at all.

"What's taking you so long?"

Keith barges into the dressing room, and Shiro nearly knocks the mirror off the wall in his haste to put distance between them. His hands twitch to cover himself, feeling naked under the heat and weight of Keith's gaze. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, glazed red again from another lollip. Shiro tries to straighten himself and strengthen his will, but isn't very successful.

"Oh," Keith purrs, stepping as close as the tiny space will let him. "Looks good. Very, very good."

It's like the first day in the mansion all over again. Shiro stays frozen as Keith runs his fingers over his arms and chest, squeezing at his biceps and pecs. He doesn't even pretend to be feeling the material, humming and making soft noises with every squeeze and touch.

"These fit very well," he says hoarsely, gaze locked down below Shiro's belt.

Shiro watches in stunned silence as Keith drops to his knees to feel his legs instead, caressing all the way from his calves to his thighs, tracing the firm lines of his quads with his thumbs. Fingers twitching by his sides, Shiro has a momentary vision of black hair caught in his hand, something else in Keith's mouth, and he halts that dangerous train of thought.

With a curse, Shiro grabs Keith by the shoulders and hauls him on his feet like a doll. "Sir, please." Keith smirks victoriously at his strained tone and taps a fingertip on the underside of his chin before taking his leave, effectively leaving Shiro bothered in more ways than one.

God, what a mess. Shiro digs the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees spots and resists the urge to bash his head against the wall. He repeats the same old mantra in his head until his blood stops thrumming and redresses in his suit, ready to go back to the mansion more than ever now.

Outside the changing room, Keith is speaking to Haxus like he had never gotten himself in a suggestive position less than five minutes ago. His eyes are dancing when he looks at Shiro, and Shiro makes a point of looking solely at the attendant. "They fit."

Haxus folds the clothes again. "Anything else, sir?" The question is directed at Keith, who's clearly in charge of this shopping trip.

"Shoes, of course."

Helplessly, Shiro follows him to the designed shelves, mourning his bank account in silence. There's nothing special looking about the shoes that makes them worth the price, yet Keith takes a moment to inspect them thoroughly like any of them could clash with the black shirt and dark wash jeans he picked. Shiro knows protesting won't get him anywhere.

With a whispered aha and a snap of his fingers, Keith bends forward to pick up the chosen pair-

And Shiro gets an eyeful of black lace.

Haxus gives him an unimpressed look when he whips his face the other way. Keith - wears lingerie. That's not an information Shiro needed to know about him.

What did Kolivan get him into?

Shiro begins recollecting his scattered thoughts the moment he gets inside the car. Thankfully they don't have to deal with nosy paparazzi as Regris waited for them in the car close to the automatic doors, and upon arrival at the mansion Keith expresses the need of a good, long soak in his best bath bombs before the show that night. Thace calls to go over details for the show, talks about the small team that will accompany them to ensure the security of the box suit before Keith is allowed in there.

As the hours pass, Shiro's lizard brain refuses to let go of the image of Keith bent over, pert ass covered in fine black lace, and red glossed lips. It make him twitch if he thinks about it for too long and he doesn't want to deal with this kind of thing if Keith is involved. More than anything else, it makes him annoyed that the memory won't leave him alone. In the end, Shiro vents his frustration on the punching bag in the wellness center until the image is pushed to the back of his mind.

Antok is on the passenger seat beside Regris, and Keith greets him with an excited little wave and a high hey uncle as he slides into the backseat. Shiro has no choice but to follow. Thankfully, his charge is too occupied tweeting to try to do anything with yet another superior around them. A black SUV packed with other Blades follows their Mercedes closely.

Traffic is hell near the premises of the Greek Theater and people stand in long lines waiting to head inside. Due to having VIP seats, Keith also gets exclusive parking and they don't have to wander around trying to find the best place to drop them off. Antok and Regris accompany them to the backstage door before leaving to check the elite seats with the team, and the guard outside let them in without a fuss upon spotting the bright green wristbands.

Shiro worked a few jobs securing shows before, so he's no stranger to the rush of people backstage in the final hour left. He follows Keith through it like the man knows here as well as his own house, sidestepping roadies and musicians, his chest thrumming to the beat of the songs playing to keep the fans entertained.

In a more quiet area they find a young man sitting on a black couch. Dressed in plain colors, he scrolls through his phone, the white of his sleeveless shirt and bleached hair standing out in the in dark colors of the place. Keith approaches with a spring on his step, Tiffany & Co. bag dangling from the crook of his elbow, and Troye jumps to his feet to greet him warmly. Shiro gets a wide smile and a greeting his way, and nods politely as he turns his attention elsewhere and lets them catch up, tuning out their conversation.

Keith leaves the backstage fifteen minutes before Troye is set to go on stage. Shiro doesn't need help from other guards to take Keith to the elite seats as the path is safe and relatively empty. The crowd is screaming as the start of the show approaches, deafening squeals and chanting of Troye's name, effectively drowning out the upbeat pop song.

Though most of the Blades have left, some wait by the boxes, none of which he has personally met, but Antok and Thace have approved of them and Shiro trusts their judgement. Box number two is prepared for them, a lavish table of snacks and food, fresh fruits, cubed cheese and cold cuts, breads and spreads. An inox bucket filled with ice and drinks, beer, water and fine champagne. Shiro rechecks the space for his own piece of mind as Keith pops open a bottle and pours the frizzy rose liquid into two tall glasses.

"Sit back and have fun, Shiro." Keith thrusts a glass into his hands and sips his own. "Enjoy the show. Troye is so talented."

Shiro sets the glass aside, unwilling to drink during working hours. Keith claims it as his own and knocks it back like it's plain water. The lights on the stage dim, and Keith grips the railing, leaning forward to scream with the crowd, wiggling in place excitedly. After a brief intro of a light show and the band playing a melody Shiro doesn't recognize, Troye steps on stage, illuminated by a beacon of light and making the entire theater roar and applaud.

As the show progresses, Shiro finds out he doesn't mind the music much. Troye truly is talented and some of his songs are catchy enough that he knows at least one of them will be stuck in his head for a couple of days. Keith dances alone, swaying his hips and waving his glass in the air, cheeks flushed both from the alcohol and happiness. It doesn't matter how many times Shiro gives him a glass of water to counterbalance the alcohol, Keith is soon drinking champagne again, water glass discarded to the side. He tries to make Keith snack on fruits and nuts instead, but it doesn't work.

If it works, Keith doesn't act like it.

Shiro finds his charge pressed up against him, dancing and grinding and singing oh my my my. Hand cupping the back of Shiro's neck, Keith keeps him close as he rubs his ass on Shiro's crotch and snaps a shot of the stage to post on his Instagram story. Keith's eyes are shining, face painted colors from the lights, and he looks so beautiful it's unreal. Try as he might to push him away, Keith steps into his space again, singing lyrics that are far too romantic for their relationship.

From there on Keith gets progressively wasted, refuses to leave his side, and the show is far from being over. His outfit rides up his thighs so frequently that Keith stops bothering trying to fix it at some point. Shiro ignores it and pushes glasses of water to his Keith's lips in between verses, presses grapes and dried apricots to his mouth, and Keith more often than not licks and sucks on Shiro's fingertips as he takes the food into his mouth.

The sight is certainly something that could fuel dirty fantasies for weeks to come, but he is more worried about the consequences of taking a drunk Keith home knowing that Kolivan and Thace, and even Krolia, will certainly hear about it. It feels a lot like babysitting, but he's under the impression that a toddler would be less of a handful.

Shiro's demise truly begins when a song with obvious sexual connotations plays. Instead of screaming the lyrics towards the stage as he had been doing up until now, Keith sings them against his skin instead, face tucked into Shiro's neck, lips moist with water and warm breath caressing him, fingers curled tightly around the belt loops of Shiro's jeans or roaming the expanse of his back. Despite the loudness of the music and the chorus of the crowd, Shiro can hear Keith's voice with clarity close to his ear singing baby, play me like a love song.

By the time that number over, Shiro's half-hard in his pants, firm hands on Keith's waist holding him away at scant safe distance, brain playing on loop I get this sweet desire in his charge's voice. Keith nips his chin and peels himself away, well on his way to being drunk as he tries to drink water and ends up dropping most of it.

He learns his lesson. Shiro keeps his distance on the second half of the show and eats most of the cubed cheese and sliced salami as Keith jams a few feet away with his water bottle, skin tight outfit plastered to his body, skink pink and glistening with sweat. That image coupled with his lips on Shiro's neck and the view he got earlier in the day combine together to form a scenario that is trying to burrow itself into Shiro's brain. Shiro drains a water bottle in one gulp and sticks to a corner of the booth, shoving grapes into his mouth and glaring at the door just in case.

The show finally ends, and with it Keith's energy leaves his body. Drunk, he sinks down on the couch and refuses to budge, groaning when Shiro tries to get him up and whining when Shiro picks him up to carry Keith back to the car. His arms are made of lead, slipping from Shiro's shoulders to hang limply. The guards standing outside accompany them to the parking lot.

Regris is already waiting for them outside the same black Mercedes. He gives Shiro a solemn nod, which means the man might understand what he's going through, and pulls open the door to the backseat when they approach.

"No," Keith whines, clinging to his bare arms, nails digging into the skin as Shiro tries to buckle in his seatbelt. "Come with me."

"Mr. Keith, please." How many times does he have to ask to get Keith to cooperate? "Behave so we can go home."

"Nooo!" He pouts, tightening his grip on Shiro's biceps.

Shiro gives Regris a look to which he earns another nod, and he climbs into the backseat reluctantly. Keith is too tired to try to do anything, and curls up to Shiro's side, mushes his cheek on Shiro's shoulder, and is asleep before they leave the parking lot. The ride is silent and Keith only stirs a few times to get more comfortable. Shiro keeps an arm around his shoulders so he won't be jostled around.

Regris helps them into the house. He opens the car door and follows Shiro to the front door, helping him balance Keith as Shiro swipes his digitals to get inside, and then they're alone. Shiro takes the elevator to the upper floor, walks into Keith's room, looking at nothing but the large bed. Kosmo comes running from a dark corner, yipping and sniffing at his ankles, hopping onto the mattress when Shiro places Keith down as gently as he can. Keith wrinkles his nose when Kosmo shoves his snout into his face and makes a half-hearted attempt to push him away, but doesn't wake up.

Shiro doesn't stall or stare, though absently he admits that Keith looks almost too good when he's sleeping peacefully like this. He removes Keith's shoes, loosening the straps one by one, rubbing his thumb along the red lines they left on his skin and flexing Keith's ankle to ensure blood's flowing right. He covers his charge with the plush duvet and pets Kosmo before taking his leave. Leaving aspirins on the bedside table would be a nice gesture, but Shiro doesn't know where they're kept in Keith's master suite, or the house as a whole for that matter.

He strips, steps into the bathroom for a quick shower, stepping out as soon as he recalls sounds and sights from the past hours. Shiro slips under the covers of his bed, hair damp and frown etched on his face, staring up the dark ceiling as his mind provides him with images of Keith dancing and singing you like it just as much as me.

a/n: I thought I should update because it's been a while, even if the fourth chapter isn't done yet. Troye had just performed in LA when I started writing the fic, so I thought - why not add him?

Jolti shared a doc on her twitter with some facts about this AU and I was very, very surprised to find that most of what I planned for this story follows along her own canon timeline so hmmm as Yuu said, somehow we're on the same wavelength. Wow amazing

Next we're meeting some characters that were both mentioned by Jolti and not mentioned at all, and I still gotta pick from my list what else will happen afkhak

Thank you all for your lovely comments and support, and see you soon!