An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: G Pairing: Keith/Shiro Word count: 1289
Shiro bounced on his toes, clinging to his dad's hand. "Can we go get popsicles first, Dad? Please?"
Dad ruffled his hair. "Sure thing, kid."
Shiro grinned up at him. "I'm going to get a red one. Red's my favorite."
"Just the one," his dad said. "Your mom will get mad if you ruin your dinner."
Shiro nodded, but he was already searching the crowd for the popsicle truck. He'd been saving up his allowance all month for the Fourth of July fair, and he was ready to spend it.
His dad let him wait in line by himself, but Shiro could see him sitting at the tables near the popsicle truck. He felt very big, waiting in line alone with the other adults and big kids.
He looked around to wave at his dad when he noticed another boy standing off to the side, staring up at the popsicle truck longingly. His clothes were baggy, like they were hand-me-downs. Shiro understood that; his hand-me-downs from his cousin were always too big at first.
The other boy kept staring at the popsicle truck, and then finally hunched his shoulders and turned away. Shiro looked around for the boy's parents, but didn't see anyone. He really looked like he was alone.
Well, that just wasn't right. Shiro gave up his place in line and walked over to the boy. "Hi! I'm Shiro. Well, Takashi, but everyone calls me Shiro. What's your name?"
The boy gaped up at him, eyes huge. "Keith," he finally said.
Shiro pointed back to the popsicle truck. "Do you want a popsicle?"
(Read the rest on AO3)
