Before we begin, my friend CloudssStormm drew a piece based on the last chapter; it can be found on twitter. Thank you!

iv. get a ride to the west side

Shiro gets used to living in the Kogane mansion, but it doesn't mean he is fine with sitting around being unproductive for most of the day, so he makes his own routine to make up for it.

The alarm goes off at six-thirty in the morning, unless they had gone somewhere the night before and got home long past midnight. Either way, he's awake before the clock strikes eight. If he can, Shiro lingers in bed for a while, stretching languidly under the covers and looking through his phone to answer some texts. Sometimes he manages to speak shortly with Matt before his friend leaves for work, sometimes Katie is pulling another all-nighter. Every morning he checks their group chat and huffs silent chuckles at the memes Lance sent the night before. Matt sends him pictures and videos of Black daily, and Shiro spends a long time looking at those. He misses his girl.

Once he's done, or if he isn't allowed leisure time, he peels himself from his bed and changes into workout clothes, wandering downstairs for a little snack that will power him through his workout. Shiro lifts weights until Xi arrives, then goes out on a run around the neighborhood - great for observing the area around the mansion and for diminishing the feeling of living cooped up indoors.

A quick shower later and he cooks an easy breakfast, eats it sitting by the counter whilst catching up on emails and messages sent to him by Marmora Services. If required, he writes a report detailing the previous night and sends it off to Kolivan and Thace. Hunk arrives shortly after, and Shiro accepts the distraction gladly, having turned good friends with the cook mere days after his arrival. And then it's all free time until Ezor and Zethrid arrive or Keith decides he wants to do something.

Today isn't one of these days.

The calendar on his tablet doesn't show the usual yellow dot that indicates Hunk will come over, or the pink one that represents Keith's personal trainer and yoga teacher. "Mr. Xi, do you know if Mr. Keith has plans for today?"

Xi, watering a new potted plant he purchased yesterday, hums thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I'm not aware of any changes to his schedule, Mr. Shiro." The creeping inch plant on the windowsill is beautiful, but Shiro can't decide if it goes along with the aesthetic of the house or not. "It's likely that he made plans late last night and hasn't told us yet."

Shiro chews on a bite of omelette instead of sighing deeply. Keith may not have a consistent routine, but he's also unpredictable as hell. He can never tell when his charge will decide to go somewhere or do something, because Keith always acts on whims, and Shiro has to scramble to follow. Bodyguards are usually aware of where they are supposed to go hours prior, who they'll have to deal with and what they'll have to do. Shiro isn't afforded that luxury; he's adaptable but also inexperienced. Guarding Keith is harder than it should be.

His charge shows up in the kitchen a few hours later, a bright pink handbag with him and tortoiseshell sunglasses perched on his nose. "I finally found you, my favorite bodyguard in the world." Shiro glances at him. Though Keith is wearing pants for once, his top is the shimmery, strappy, low cut type. "We've got places to be. Let's get going."

Another reason why Shiro can't afford to lounge in casual clothes: he hardly ever gets a forewarning they'll be going somewhere. "Where to?"

"Altea Fashion," Keith says like that explains everything. "I'm meeting up with friends and I can't be late. You're driving, so just-" he makes a vague gesture with his hand, hips cocked to the side, "pick the car you want to drive and let's go."

Xi bids them goodbye with a warning to be careful, and Shiro follows Keith to the underground garage. Meeting up with friends means Shiro might have to drive them somewhere, so he chooses one of the cars with decent back seats, unlocking it with a click of a button and holding the door open for Keith. He's got another lollipop in his mouth, murmurs a "why, thank you" around the candy and brushes much too close past Shiro to get into the car. His top slips down his shoulder when he reaches down to fiddle with his booties, so Shiro keeps his eyes trained on the hood of the car.

If it weren't for the GPS, they would have gotten lost in L.A. Keith talks mostly to himself on the backseat during the ride, sucking on his lollipop and tapping texts with lightning-quick speed. Phone synced to the bluetooth, Ariana Grande's voice fills the space inside of the car, and Shiro is forced to listen to her latest single many times in a row because Keith keeps replaying it to record videos using funny filters on Snapchat.

Altea Fashion is a tall white building with blue tinged windows, a big fountain at the front surrounded by lush gardens, a stylized metallic letter A suspended just out of reach of the water spurts. The security guard standing at the gates of the parking lot asks for clearance before letting them in, which happens to be a wiggle of Keith's fingers from the backseat.

White greets them inside the building, grays and black bringing contrast to the brightness, electronic displays showcasing covers of Voltron Magazine released in the past year and footage of models on runways dressed in flowing fabrics or well fitted outfits. The air smells of some floral freshener, and the girl on the reception counter greets them brightly as Keith struts towards the elevator like he owns the place. Pop music replaces the usual jazzy songs, the same Ariana Grande's single - again. Keith decides to dance too close to Shiro even if there's plenty of room left in the elevator, fluffing up his hair and blowing kisses at his own reflection with every swish of his hips.

Shiro just clasps his hands tight in front of his body and stares at the numbers as the elevator goes up and up.

The top floor is much like the reception area: spacious, wide and mostly white, divided into sitting and office areas. Pastel pink and blue are sprinkled around in the form of throw blankets, pillows, vases filled with beautiful white blooms, and wall decor. A fuzzy rug under the coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling windows grant them a view of most of Los Angeles and some of the coastline. In front of the wall with the logo of Altea Fashion displayed in an elegant writing and polished silver, two young women sit behind two glass top desks equipped with high-end computers, partially hidden by the large monitor.

One of them lifts her head, silky hair pinned away from her face and flowing down her back in a golden waterfall. Her eyes glimmer when they land on Keith, and she springs up from her seat abruptly, startling the other woman. "Keith!"

"Hi, Romelle!" Her heels click as she rushes towards Keith, lips smacking loudly as they greet one another with kisses to the cheek.

The other woman stands, the peach shade of her dress complimenting her skin and the color of her eyes, platinum hair tied up in a high bum. She approaches Keith more quietly, but greets him no less excitedly, and turns her attention to Shiro. Both women stand so regal and well dressed he must look like a mere commoner dressed in rags. With three rich people in the same room, Shiro feels as small as a flea.

"I believe we haven't been introduced yet." The one with silver hair says in a thick accent, extending her hand to greet him. "I'm Allura Altea."

"I'm Romelle Fallolmi." The other one says, shaking his hand once he turns to her. "And you are?"

"I'm Shiro, Mr. Keith's bodyguard." Both their hands are soft and dainty, manicured nails painted pastel colors.

They share glances, eyebrows drawn up to their hairline, then look at Keith for an explanation. "Mom did it behind my back," he drawls out, twirling a pink lollipop between a thumb and forefinger. "Kolivan picked him. He did a nice job, I think. I certainly don't mind looking at him all day long. Shiro's got a Greek god body, after all."

Allura snickers, and Romelle's giggles grow louder when Shiro tugs at his cuffs after clearing his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shiro." Allura says at last, recomposing herself and returning to their workspace to gather their purses.

"Please, just Shiro is fine, Miss Altea."

"As you wish, Shiro. But no Miss Altea, please. Or Miss Fallolmi."

Romelle winks at him before pushing cateye sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "It's only fair."

Keith is watching on in amused silence. He pops the candy back into his mouth and smirks around the plastic stick when Shiro looks at him, then swivels around on the balls of his feet to follow the girls back to the elevator. Shiro doesn't like not knowing what they're about to do, but asking Keith about it earlier had given him no answers. He likes to believe he's prepared to deal with anything, though, so he doesn't ask again.

Shiro stands at the back of the elevator as they chat animatedly about something he doesn't quite catch. Fashion, it seems, given the way Romelle is gesturing to different parts of her body trying to demonstrate the way some piece is supposed to fit. It's cut short as they arrive to the reception area again, heading out towards a waiting white Range Rover parked outside the front doors. The driver holds the door open for them, Keith being the last one to slip into the backseat, and Shiro claims the passenger seat for the ride.

Trayling, Allura's chauffeur, has greying hair and an impressive beard that decorates his serious face. With a tight line for his lips and a severe knit of his brows, he gives Shiro the answers he seeks by revealing the location of a restaurant they're going for Keith's brunch date. Allura commands the music queue in the twenty minute drive to Downtown L.A., songs from their teenagehood blasting through the speakers. Keith and Allura aren't good singers, while Romelle surprisingly sings in tune - but most importantly, they're having fun and that's enough for Shiro. He's happy for Keith, truly. It must be hard to have real friends when you're famous and filthy rich.

A tower waits for them at the end of the ride, a building enclosed with reflective glass in varying shades of blue and gray, its pattern and colors providing a glittering, rich appearance. Shiro is quick to open the backdoor so the trio can step out onto the sidewalk. They look like they belong in a movie, or a red carpet event. They cross automatic door, escaping the sweltering heat of L.A. by stepping into the cooler entrance lobby that belongs to an overpriced coffee shop. With plush seats all around and the smell of ground coffee beans heavy in the air, they walk past clients and employees alike on their way to the elevators.

The button to the twenty fourth floor is pressed by a delicate finger, bracelets jingling on Romelle's wrist. It's a slow ascent as it stops every once in a while to let people out on different floors, some instrumental tune filling in the silence. With fifty-four stories, Shiro wonders what this building has to offer.

The restaurant picked for this brunch date is beautiful and lavish, as to be expected, with a spacious dining room and lounge. Floor to ceiling windows provide a stunning view of the Los Angeles skyline, allowing in a stream of bright sunlight. Shiro takes note of dark tables, semi-circular leather seats and the many light fixtures hanging from the ceiling as he observes their surroundings, and comes to the conclusion that the only ways out are through the elevator and the emergency stairwell. Not ideal, but he can work with it, even if he has two extra people as his charges for now.

"Good morning." A hostess greets them from behind a reception desk. "Do you have reservations?"

Allura provides her name with a kind smile, nodding in thanks as the hostess checks it off and takes them to one of the tables by the windows.

After insisting that he should sit with them and not by himself at the bar, Shiro takes the last chair left, and it's awkward at best to be included in their affairs. At least, he has a full view of the room with his back turned to the outside, so he can observe everything and tune them out to give them some semblance of privacy. A waiter comes by with menus, sets a copy down on the table before each of them and fills tall glasses with water before excusing himself. Shiro takes his time to check the options available, being the last one to take the menu in hand.

As far as brunches go, Shiro thinks the norm is to have eggs benedicts, waffles, pancakes, refreshing salads and toasts on the menu. He recognizes only half of the names, and spends most of the time reading the description of every dish and drink, mentally calculating how much his meal will cost him. The others are talking over their booklets, eventually setting them down. They probably know it by heart, anyway.

The waiter returns before Shiro has chosen his order. In the end, Keith orders him the same thing as the others, a nine-course tasting menu with wine pairings. He gives Shiro a smile that's more honest than it is teasing, and he's thrown for a loop as Keith turns to the girls and they engage in another conversation.

He really should be watching their surroundings, but Shiro pays attention to his charge instead, because Keith, for once, isn't talking with that annoying lilt to his voice. In fact, his eyes are shining, and his smile is wide and genuine. He gestures as he speaks, flashes pearly white teeth whenever he laughs, rests his chin on his hand to listen with rapt attention to some tale told by Romelle.

Keith looks comfortable in a way Shiro has never seen before, not even at the mansion.

Allura and Romelle try to include him in the conversation, but Shiro only ends up talking when addressed. In the times when Keith talks to him, he doesn't flirt or tease, and his usual smirk is absent, replaced by lip corners that curl upwards softly. It's a side of him Shiro didn't know existed and he's curious to know more of this Keith.

Their meal is excellent. For being a tasting menu the dishes are small, but there are plenty to keep him satisfied. The wine served is the sweetest Shiro has had in his life, but he allows himself only a tiny sip of each, working hours and all. He looks at the labels and memorizes the names of his favorites. They're probably more expensive than he thinks, but one of them would be a great gift to the Holts when they invite him over to their dinner parties. They deserve it.

By the end of two hours, the bill is split in four, but Keith pays for two. Trayling waits for them just outside the front doors of the building and drives them back to Altea Fashion, unbothered by the songs from Romelle's playlist, most of which remind Shiro of Barbie Girl . Shiro patiently waits outside as they say their goodbyes, stretching the moment for as long as they can. The white Range Rover slowly drives away, back to its designated parking spot, only to be replaced some minutes later by a sleek silver Lexus that rolls to a gentle stop beside them.

From the driver's side emerges a head full of platinum hair that shimmers under the sunlight. Black aviators rest on the bridge of a straight nose, a finely pressed navy suit fitting the man's figure like a glove. He loops one of the buttons of his blazer through a hole as he approaches, hair fluttering like he belongs in a commercial studio and not out under the scorching sun. A smile forms on his lips as he walks towards Allura and dips down to kiss the corner of her lips. Allura, pressing up on the tip of her toes, meets him halfway.

"Hello, dear." Shiro lightly arches a brow. They look good together, almost too good with matching hair color and model stances. Straightening, the man turns his attention to the others. "Hello, Romelle." He says with an incline of his head, and then looks at Keith. "And Keith. It's been a while."

There's something in his tone when he addresses Keith that Shiro can't pinpoint. It's not unfriendly, but it's not pleasant either. "Lotor." Keith replies, lips curling in an overly sweet smile. Forced, tight. "It has, hasn't it?"

"I wish it could have stayed that way."

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

"Boys, please." Allura intervenes, exasperation lacing her tone. "Keep it civil."

They both step down, and it's a relief. Shiro doesn't know who this man is, but he isn't looking forward to stopping a fight between his charge and Allura's partner, regardless if it's the verbal or physical kind. Besides, something tells him Keith wouldn't appreciate it if he stepped in when Keith is having an argument with someone he has a bone to pick.

Lotor takes a step forward after a moment of tense silence, and it takes Shiro a moment to realize the hand he offers is for him to take. "I'm Lotor."

"Shiro." Lotor's hand is soft like Allura's, but his grip is strong. "I'm Mr. Keith's bodyguard."

One perfect eyebrow lifts in curiosity. "I see. It's a pleasure meeting you."

Keith tugs on Shiro's jacket, drawing his arm back and breaking the handshake. "No touching what isn't yours, Lottie. Shoo." He waves Lotor away like he's swatting an annoying, stubborn fly, or trying to dismiss an unwanted guest, which is closer to the truth.

"And is he yours, by any chance?" Lotor parries back, arm settling around Allura's shoulders.

"He's my bodyguard, so I get a free pass." Keith sniffs and clings Shiro's elbow, nose high in the air. "Anyways, we were just about to leave. Call me later to give me more details, Romelle."

Keith says nothing else, only whirls them around unexpectedly. Shiro stumbles and bids them a hasty goodbye before Keith tugs him away to the parking lot.

Fresh out of shower, Shiro finds Keith in one of the many living rooms after the day is done, fluffy towel wrapped around his head and a mask smeared on his face. The TV is turned on and providing background noise, but he isn't paying any attention to it, hunched over and painting his toenails black, a concentrated frown on his brow.

Kosmo is lying close to the couch, and lifts his head when Shiro approaches, tail thumping on the rich, fluffy rug and tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Keith looks from his dog to Shiro, and this isn't the first time Shiro finds his charge to be this void of emotion.

"Apologies, Mr. Keith." He says after they have been there staring at each other for a moment too long. "I'll go somewhere else."

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Keith returns his attention to his toes. "It's fine, you can stay."

Shiro hesitates for a beat. It's not the idea of sharing the same space that bothers him, but rather the flat cadence of Keith's voice, teetering on the verge of bored, but mostly sounding tired. Keith has always been lively at all times of the day, speaking animatedly to Shiro or Kosmo or anyone that called him. Perhaps that brief encounter with Lotor drained him, perhaps it's something else.

He sinks into the armchair and unlocks his tablet to go over the new files Thace sent him. Before diving into work, Shiro sends his boss a message regarding Keith's current mood, doing so more out of concern than obligation. Ah, I see he's gotten tired, Thace says, and never replies to Shiro's tired of what?

It's hard not to turn these few words around in his head, but Shiro pushes them aside with some effort and focuses on his job. More pictures of Keith with him, and links to articles speculating about his life. Fishing his phone out of his pocket for the first time since early morning, he finds several texts from Matt and Katie freaking out over the tabloids, and a few from Lance squealing over his apparent new celebrity status.

Shiro would rather not be noticed at all, but that's impossible when you're following Keith Kogane all day everywhere he goes. This can make things more complicated from now on, but he has faith in his abilities to deal with whatever comes his way. His only hope is that the media won't snoop around his life to much, or worse, go looking for his friends.

On the couch, Keith wiggles his toes and moves on to the other foot. It's quiet. It's never too quiet around Keith, a man always so full of energy to strut wherever he goes like he was born on a catwalk, that winks and blow kisses to his own reflection, and checks his own ass out in mirrored walls of elevators. He's gotten tired, Thace had said, but Shiro has witnessed more eventful days in which Keith could have gone partying at eleven in the night after spending all day out and about.

Suppressing a sigh as he closes another gossip page spewing nonsense about Keith and himself, Shiro checks his schedule and plans a night out with his friends on his next weekend off. Matt is dying to catch up in person, and Katie is excited to have him test the new computer game she's been developing.

Keith stretches his legs out when he's done, sets the nail polish aside and rubs a cotton pad over his nails, wet with nail polish remover. The cotton becomes black quickly, and he spares his nails a few glances, now paying attention to what Shiro thinks is Keeping Up with the Kardashians . It's all well until they go into break and one of the commercials features a very familiar head of straight platinum hair.

Keith straight up boos and tosses a cotton pad at the screen, only for it to float pathetically to the ground, falling by his foot. He sniffs in irritation and turns his face away from the TV, crossing his arms.

"You really hate him, don't you?" Shiro only realizes he's spoken aloud once it's too late to stop. He flounders under Keith's gaze, opening and snapping his mouth shut, coming up blank with any decent excuse. He shouldn't pry, Keith is his charge after all.

But Keith only blinks at him twice before laughing, and Shiro feels marginally better for seeing him smiling again. Kosmo hops onto the couch when Keith pats the cushions invitingly, and rests his big head on Keith's lap. "I don't really hate Lotor. I just strongly dislike him."

Shiro debates if he should carry on this topic, lips pressed together tightly. Keith is watching him, head tilted to the side, and if his open body language means anything it is that he's okay with talking about it. "Where do you know him from?"

"He's my... First cousin once removed or something," Keith flaps his hand, dismissive, but he's done the same gesture with more effort before.

"I see. Some relatives are a joy."

"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes and picks at the bits of black polish that remain on his fingernails. "Zarkon is my mom's cousin. She used to model for his brand, Galra, a long time ago. Always been pretty good at it, too, the media loved to see her in fashion shows wearing Honerva's designs."

Shiro places his tablet and phone down on his thighs, curious to hear about this and aware that it's none of his business, but no one ever mentioned anything about Keith's past, not Kolivan or Thace or the Wikipedia page Shiro read a while ago.

"So we were in Zarkon's house one night for a family dinner to celebrate whatever. Maybe it was a new campaign, I don't know, I was like five. Lotor and I were playing in the living room and both our parents were chatting." This is the first time Keith mentions his dad. Shiro keeps quiet. "We were making some collage cards as gifts to our moms, and Lotor wouldn't stop bragging that his was better. And well, I did have a pair of scissors in my hand, and his hair has always been long for his age."

Shiro gasps softly, mouth falling open in a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You didn't."

"I did!" Keith says it with a big grin, no hint of remorse or shame on his face or voice. "Grabbed him by the hair and snapped off a good chunk of it."

If he were to do it in the present time, Shiro would be worried, would stop him if possible, but the idea of a tiny Keith jumping on his cousin to defend the honor of his collage card is too in character and hilarious to keep quiet. He snorts and tries to smother down his bubbling laughter, but it spills out anyways and Shiro is left to clutch at the armrest as he wheezes for breath.

Keith joins him, and his joy makes Kosmo stand and shove his snout into Keith's face, trying to understand what got him so agitated, and it only makes them laugh harder. "So we had to - go home, and my parents were really trying to scold me, but they wouldn't stop snickering." He places a hand over his mouth like he can stop laughing with that simple action. "It was pretty late already, but Zarkon called her at like three in the morning like-"

He looks around the couch, shoving some pillows out of the way. Shiro guesses Keith is looking for his phone and offers his own, and his charge quickly puts it up to his ear to imitate his uncle as best as he can. "Cousin, I'm sorry but you can't work for Galra anymore. I talked to Alfor and we'll transfer you to Juniberry. I can't fucking sleep. Lotor is being a fucking bitch, I mean, it's just some hair, but he's screaming off the walls."

Shiro chuckles into his fist. "He didn't really call Lotor a bitch, did he?"

"Nah, but it adds spice to my retelling." Keith winks and returns the phone, settles back against the pillows once more. "Lotor hates me for it since. He plays it cool but he gets as much under my skin as I do to him, so we're even."

Before Shiro can think of something to say, an alarm goes off somewhere in the living room. Keith finally finds his phone on the floor, previously hidden under Kosmo's large frame, and whisks it to halt the ringing. "Why don't you order some food while I wash this off?"

Shiro makes an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat. "What would you like to have?"

Keith shrugs, collecting his nail supplies from the couch. "I don't know, whatever you eat with your friends, I guess."

"It's cheap and greasy," Shiro warns so Keith will have the chance to back off if he doesn't want it. "Are you sure about it?"

His charge flashes a grin from over his shoulder, "I didn't always eat fancy, you know," and saunters away.

Shiro sits still for a full minute before taking his phone and calling his favorite chinese takeout place. The owner knows him by name, and can recognize his and his friends' voices without much trouble at all, and Shiro knows the menu by heart too. So he orders egg rolls, fried rice and noodles, and opts for picking it up from the establishment. Keith will probably appreciate going out for some fresh air and a night ride, and Shiro won't even mind if he puts Ariana Grande's single on repeat again.

None of the cars in Keith's garage are discreet enough for picking up Chinese takeout, but Shiro guesses that their neighborhood has seen stranger things, and that it might not be so unusual for rich people to order cheap takeout after all. Moreover, that is the last place the paparazzi will think of finding Keith, and if Shiro notices they're being followed, he'll write down the plate number and contact Kolivan for further instructions.

Keith is dressed in something horrendous when he returns downstairs. Space sweatpants, cartoon T-shirt, and crocs. Shiro has to do a double take, but yes that really is Keith, tying up his hair in a short ponytail. At least, he looks comfortable. Does Keith being tired equate to bad fashion choices?

Like predicted, Keith plays 7 rings on loop as Shiro drives them around L.A. He still fumbles with some lyrics, and dances on his seat like he doesn't mind embarrassing himself in front of Shiro. Kosmo is in the backseat, head stuck out the window. It must be nice not to have to worry about fur on leather seats, something Shiro can't relate to when Black gets inside his sedan. Or on his couch. Or his bed. Or when she rubs herself on his legs right before he has to leave for work.

He finds a parking spot a few paces away from the Chinese establishment, and Keith insists on going with him. Shiro doesn't think Keith is too recognizable like this; dressed down as he is, people might just overlook him, but still he checks the street before letting him out of the car, and keeps close as they walk to the restaurant. It's mostly a delivery business with few tables pushed against the walls for some patrons that might want to eat here. Keith watches his surroundings, hands shoved in his pockets, bouncing back and forth on his heels. Shiro wonders if he finds this place alien.

Kosmo sticks his head between the front seats to sniff at the takeout bags in Keith's grasp. "How about we eat outside?" Keith suggests, and Shiro gives him a quick glance before driving away.

"What do you mean outside?"

"Dunno, just go to the beach to eat this, maybe."

Shiro considers it. In theory, it's a harmless idea. He faces traffic head on when Matt and Katie want to eat ice cream while strolling along Santa Monica, toes digging into the sand and salty wind blowing their hair. But Keith isn't Matt or Katie, Keith is popular, Keith is famous . Letting him go into a Chinese restaurant tucked in some less prestigious neighborhood is one thing, letting him out of the car somewhere more open where he can be spotted is another.

He wants to say no, but doesn't want to deprive Keith of simple things either. In the end, he agrees with Keith's idea and drives them to Will Rogers State Beach, as it should be mostly empty at this time of the night. Better make use of this period of relative quietness before the media gets too interested in them and everything becomes overwhelming.

Just south of the intersection of Entrada Drive and Pacific Coast Highway, Shiro parks their ride for the night, a shiny black Aston Martin, and Keith unleashes Kosmo upon the beach. He kicks up sand on his way to the ocean, steps into the water until it's brushing the underside of his belly. A few surfers are brave enough to face the waves in the dark, and Shiro can hear their excited whoops from the sidewalk whenever one of them does a trick. Keith finds a grassy spot to have their dinner and they sit quietly for a moment, enjoying the sound of the waves and the sea breeze.

The food isn't as hot, but it's warm enough still, and Shiro has to control himself or else he'll shove all the fried rice in his mouth at once. The last time he ate had been on Keith's brunch date, and he hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food touched his tongue. Beside him, Keith is being less graceful, fighting to eat his noodles with chopsticks, picking up only bits of meat and vegetables from the box.

He hums after managing to slurp some noodles successfully. "This is great."

"Yep." Shiro has many fond memories of ordering from that place. "It's Katie's favorite."

"A friend of yours?"

"Hmm yeah, Katie and Matt are my best friends." Kosmo comes running back, sits by Keith's feet and stares at the box in his hand. "Can't wait to see them again."

Keith gently pushes Kosmo away when he tries to inch closer. "It's nice to meet close friends once in a while."

"We used to be neighbors. Technically, we still are, but my apartment is empty right now." And that is why moving into the Kogane's mansion was so hard, because Matt and Katie used to spend hours in his apartment, or he would go to theirs. Matt used to joke about opening up a new door to link both apartments, if only they didn't live across one another.

Shiro can't really say he's used to the distance yet.

Keith is quiet, digging through his dinner and sighing when all he finds are noodles he can't seem to grasp. He leans closer to Shiro then, tries to take some of his fried rice, but fails. "Hey, why don't you feed me some of that?"

Shiro chokes on his mouthful of food, clasping a hand over his mouth and trying not to cough or force rice down the wrong pipe. Keith sticks his tongue out and winks, and leaves Shiro's personal space. Remembering the box of egg rolls, Keith takes one and bites, the golden crust crunching between his teeth. "I'm kidding." He breaks off a piece to feed it to Kosmo. "But I wouldn't be opposed to it if you wanted to."

"This is a bad time to have declined the complimentary soda can." Shiro is sure he can feel some grain of rice stuck in his throat, but it isn't leaving anytime soon. Keith is laughing at him, cheeks puffed out from another bite. "I believe you're old enough to feed yourself, Mr. Keith."

"Not with chopsticks, I can't." He waves his half eaten egg roll in Shiro's direction. "Bigger, solid pieces I can deal with, but rice and noodles? Tiny and slippery."

"I'll bring a fork for you next time."

"So there's going to be a next time?"

Shiro stops chewing his food and looks at Keith. It's one of those rare times when his charge's face betrays nothing, carefully neutral. Keith is usually very expressive, flamboyant if you will, smirking and blowing kisses, winking and flirting and getting too much into Shiro's personal space. He doesn't know how to handle it well, or what to think of it, when Keith has these quiet moments. He used to think he was probably pissed off at something, but after tonight, Shiro isn't sure anymore.

"Maybe. If you behave."

Keith scoffs and makes to flip his hair over his shoulder, even if it's all tied up. "I behave well enough."

"So far, yes, but we have to take into consideration the media too." Shiro sets down his empty box and pushes the last egg roll towards Keith. "Come on, eat this so we can go home."

"What's so great about stalking and snapping pics of people all day?" Keith grumbles and stuffs the roll into his mouth. "We're just regular people."

"I guess they think your life is more interesting because you're, well, rich." Shiro stands up from the grassy patch, dusts sand away from his backside and collects their trash. Kosmo watches intently as he tosses the box of noodles in a plastic bag and presses his snout to it. Shiro quickly lifts it out of his reach.

Keith is up as well, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I share everything on social media. Ugh."

Shiro has a feeling Keith's had this conversation before with his uncles and mother, so he lets it drop. "Why don't we watch a rerun of your favorite fashion show when we get back?"

Keith seems to find that a good idea, and doesn't need to be told twice to get in the car. Shiro tries not to feel like he ruined the mood.

a/n: Happy (belated) Valentine's Day, guys! My gift for you isn't romantic or explicit, but it's important, plot-wise.

Since the initial planning stages, I had seen Keith as having two personalities, kind of: his public persona, that's just his diva side amplified to the max, and who he really is around people he's friends with. The doc provided by Joltik somewhat confirmed this could be the case asfkafl so now that Keith's gotten tired of keeping up appearances, and meeting Lotor soured his mood, Shiro knows Keith isn't the air head he makes himself to be.

They should grow closer as friends now, and though we're one step closer to what we all wanna see, I have to keep the pace flowing well, so patience, my young Paladin. Think of this as a slow burn in which they have sex before they get together romantically.

idk if I mentioned this before, but I've never been to L.A., and so I do some research. Aside from places that are references to the VLD universe, most locations I mention really exist, or are at least based on a real place. The brunch restaurant is based on WP24 by Wolfgang Puck. It seems they rotate the brunch menu, but I happened to find part of a menu with prices and picked the most expensive. Does it fit a brunch menu? Probably not, but it's not like Keith cares lmao

As for Will Rogers State Beach, that specific spot they parked at (south of Pacific Coast Highway and Entrada Drive) is popular among the LGBT community, also known as Ginger Rogers Beach, and considered by some to be the unofficial gay beach of Los Angeles. I couldn't not add it tbh

Also, many thanks to my friend Mari for coming up with what I like to call The Bitch Speech! The Ariana single Keith was supposed to listen to was "thank u, next" at first, but "7 rings" fits the narrative better.

Wrapping up this lengthy author's note, next chapter we get to meet Shiro's friends and cat because he's been a good bean and deserves a break, plus someone special shows up. Hope you enjoyed, and see ya!