a birthday gift for @quiznakingredâ/@lepusastrumâ
based on @applepiekenââs sheith frat au fan art
this fic is also on AO3
âFrat parties are stupid,â Keith groaned as Romelle pushed a pair of red sunglasses into his hair. This already seemed like overkill, but heâd said heâd go. Not that heâd be happy about it.
âI thought youâd never been to one,â she hummed as she moved back to dig through his closet.
âI havenât, but frat boys are lame and parties are awful. Which means frat parties are even worse.â
âYour logic is flawless, as always, Keith.â
âI know,â he cast Romelle an iceless glare as she rolled her eyes at him. He pulled the dress shirt on anyway, then motioned to himself in question.
âYouâre still going?â
âWell, yeah.â
âButââ
âIâm not letting you go to some lame party alone. At least if Iâm there we can bitch about how lame it is together.â
âYouâre the best!â
âI know, now come on letâs go.â
âââ
Twenty minutes later, the two of them were pulling up on the grass of an already full yard.
Romelle got off the bike first, straightening her dress after removing her helmet. Keith followed, going slower to put off having to go in the house. The music was loud, the front porch was already trashed, and the windows flashed with neon lights.
âItâll be fun, I promise,â Romelle squeezed his hand reassuringly, pulling him forward with her. âI heard Shiroâs going to be here.â
âOf course he will be, Alpha Phi Alpha is his frat.â Keithâs mouth snapped shut, realizing his mistake, but Romelle was already beaming at him.
âI thought you said frat boys were lame.â
âThey are, Iâ Shut up!â Keith definitely wasn't blushing.
âCute,â the girl grinned, pulling him along again until they were through the door.
Like every party heâd been to, this one was already crowded and getting fuller by the minute. He followed Romelle to the kitchen. She greeted a few people as they walked through the house, hugging a girl with short red hair that he recognized from one of his physics courses and waving a little too shyly at a boy who looked similar but was taller and had a bit of a southern accent. Matt he guessed based on Romelleâs previous rants about how smart and cute and sweet the boy in her robotics lab was.
Keith kept going as the other boy started up a conversation with his friend. Luckily the kitchen was only a few steps away and he spotted a familiar face. âHank, right?â he asked a little ashamed that he wasnât completely sure of the guyâs name despite being partnered on several projects together.
âHunk,â he corrected politely with a bright smile. âYou want something to drink?â
âYeah, whatâve you got?â
âBeer mostly, any particular one you want.â He opened the fridge and stepped to the side to reveal various blue and red labeled bottles.
âNothing stronger?â he questioned, wanting something to dull the claustrophobia that was starting to set in by being surrounded by so many people.
âThereâs jello shots on the table, but thatâs about it.â
Keith gave an awkward thumbs up and headed in the direction Hunk had pointed.
When he got to the table however, the shots had been cleared to sit on a cabinet in the corner and there was some type of game going on. Not particularly interested, but having nothing else to do, Keith grabbed a couple shots and stood on the sidelines to watch.
It seemed simple enough, despite how intensely everyone was watching and hollering with every made and missed shot of the pingpong ball. By the time the game was over someone had found (or maybe crafted with MacGyver-like drunk ingenuity) a crown of beer cans and had placed in on the winnerâs head.
âI am the Beer Pong King!â the winner, who Keith also vaguely recognized but couldnât put a name to, declared, downing one the remaining cups of beer on the table. âWhoâs next? Or are you all afraid to face the nine-time undefeated king.
âIt was only six!â Someone hollered back from the crowd and that seemed to only fuel the winnerâs ego.
âNo volunteers then?â The boy looked around and for some reason locked eyes with Keith. âWhat about you, mullet? Letâs see if your just as talented off school grounds.â
While Keith wanted to correct that technically the frat house was campus property so technically was still school grounds, the competitive side of him won out and he stepped to the opposite side of the table. Though even know he still couldn't put a name or even any details to the reason that he and the King apparently knew each other.
From the first shot, the other boy seemed to realize his mistake as Keith easily sunk the ball into his opponents cup. âDrink up,â he smirked, the thought of losing not even entering his mind. It wasnât even a fair fight. He won that match easily, trying not to turn red from the attention as the crown was removed from the former King and placed on his head. Seven rounds later, he bowed and stepped away from the table the undefeated king of the night.
By the time he settled onto the empty couch in the corner of the living room, heâd completely lost track of Romelle, but didnât mind as he sipped from his glass, free hand keeping the crown steady on the top of his head. But eventually he got tired of having to do that and switched it out for the sunglasses heâd hung on his pocket so that theyâd help keep the hair out of his face.
As he was finishing the last of his drink, he looked up as another was lifted into his line of sight. âYou look like you could use another.â Shit, Keithâs eyes lifted to meet warm steel ones.
âThanks,â he tried not to blush as his fingers brushed Shiroâs when he took the offered cup.
âCan I sit here?â Keith nodded, sipping the drink and avoiding eye contact. But he still found himself sneaking glances from the corner of his eye as the man dropped down next to him. He tried (and failed) not to memorize the spread of his legs or the thick muscle of his arms in his cut off shirt or the way his bangs sprung out from the opening of his backwards cap or the way his gum snapped between his teeth in a somehow non-irritating but actually very sexy way.
âIâve seen you around before, never here though.â Keith hummed as a reply instead of answering, afraid that the man could here the way his rough voice was turning Keithâs insides to jelly. âIâm Takashi by the way, everyone just calls me Shiro though.â
âI know,â this time Keith managed to answer, proud of the way his voice didnât waver.
That earned him a soft chuckle that made him nearly faint. âYour cute.â Iâm not! âBut I bet I could turn you into a bad boy.â
Keith turned to him at that, leaning in close. Closer. Closer. Until there mouths met and Keith was kissing him deep and hard, lapping at the inside of his mouth for a moment before pulling away. Shiro just stared wide-eyed and red faced and that earned him a smirk as Keith removed his sunglasses and pushed them up on Shiroâs nose, leaning in close again. âIâm already a bad boy, baby.â
He pulled away, picking his drink back up and winking as he chewed on the gum heâd stolen. âSee ya around, Shiro.â
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  âAnd we know that we're headstrong and our heart's gone
        And the timing's never right
 But for now let's get away on a roman holiday.
    Feet first, don't fall or we'll be running again
          Keep close, stand tallâ
{closed starter with @marmorared}
In two weeks, Summer break would be over and Keith will start his first semester at Garrison University. This year also marked Shiroâs last year there, which also meant that this would be his last summer off, so they had to make it count. And what better way to do that then go on the road trip theyâve been talking about for almost three years now.
Shiroâd spent the entire morning re-discussing (for the fifth time) the outline of their trip with his grandfather and then stopping at the bank to empty out the savings account heâd set up specifically for this. So by the time he pulled up in front of the driveway at Keithâs house, he was getting antsy. He tapped the horn of his Jeep (well, technically their Jeep, since Keith had pitched in about third of the cash to buy it a few years ago) just to let his friend know he'd arrived, before climbing out to rearrange somethings to make room for whatever Keith had decided to pack.
Shiro parked the car in the driveway and stared at the house. He was early and it was late. Keith might be in bed already. Actually. all the lights were off so there really was no âmightâ about it.
He considered calling Keith to let him know he was home, but decided against it as he was unloading his luggage from the trunk. His trip to Japan had taken a lot out of him and he was sick of just talking to his husband on the phone.
Being as quiet as possible, Shiro let himself in the front door and abandoned his suitcases the moment he was inside. After stepping off his shoes, he made a beeline to the master bedroom, shrugging off his coat and  undoing his tie as he went. Both items dropped to the floor unceremoniously. Heâd pick them up later.
âKeith?â Shiro whispered, from the doorway. âBaby?â he continued forward, moving to kneel at Keithâs side of the bed, smiling just from the sight of his sleeping lover. âCâmon, baby, wake up. You need to welcome me home.â
I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate, it doesn't wanna live in a cage.
And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.Â
I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah.
{closed rp with @marmorared}
Shiro does not believe in love at first sight.
What he does believe in though is lust at first sight. And while he believes in it, he doesnât think he could fall for it. Of course beliefs are meant to be tested and on a warm Thursday in June, Shiro gets his first test. He fails.
It started out a regular day with Shiro humming along to the radio waiting for a train to finish crossing the tracks a few cars ahead of him. He didnât mind the wait since it gave him the opportunity to look around as he tapped his fingers along the edge of his open window.
After a few minutes, Shiro caught himself staring in the direction of a shop called âKogane Ink.â Well, it was less the shop he was staring at and more the ass of the man that was unlocking said shopâs door.
He was built sleek and handsome when he happened to turn towards the street and met Shiro (who was hoping he hadnât been caught staring)âs eyes he had the look of the kind of sin his mother had warned him to stay away from.
The cars ahead of him had started to move but Shiro was still caught up in looking at the man on the sidewalk that he didnât realize until the car behind him honked and drew his attention away long enough for the man to disappear inside the shop.
Again, Shiro was not one to lust after a stranger and thatâs what he reminded himself as he pulled out his phone at work for thousandth time to scroll Kogane Inkâs website. Apparently the shop was for tattoos and piercings which Shiro should have guessed, but didnât, and the manâs name was Keith according to the small picture and bio that Shiro did not have memorized by lunch.
The more he looked at the sight the more his interest was piqued and by the time he was clocking out Shiro had decided that he was going to stop in to Kogane Ink to set up a tattooing appointment... even though heâd never considered it before until today. But he wasnât one to jump in to things blindly, he had read up on tattoos and styles and aftercare and basically any article that came across on his google searches during work and felt he knew what he was getting into.
The problem however arose when he walked into the shop and realized he had no idea where he wanted to get this tattoo he was wanting or even what it was he wanted to get permanently etched into his skin.
