#shiroweek

“You don’t have to do that, y’know,” Keith said, holding two insulated cups. He wore an incredulous frown along with his Blend of Marmora apron, a scarf, and cut-off gloves. “You’re a movie star. You can hire someone to do this for you.”

“I prefer the term ‘actor,’ and I wasn’t doing anything.” Shiro jerked a shoulder and took a long drag of the grass to prove his point. “Figured I should accomplish something today other than fixing dinner and sorting my whites and colors.”

Keith glanced around the neighborhood, then looked Shiro up and down. “Aren’t you afraid someone’s going to take a picture and post it online?”

“You know how the town is.” Shiro propped his elbow upon the rake’s handle. “Honerva and Gyrgan and Trigel like to gossip but only amongst themselves. They don’t need to loop anyone else in, and why would anyone here want to put a picture of me online?”

“Because you won a Golden Globe last year.”

The smile came easily to Shiro’s lips. “Wasn’t an Oscar. And besides – most people here remember me with pimples and braces and glasses. I’m no one special to them.”

Keith’s smile was warmer than any sweater as he handed a cup to Shiro. “You’ll always be special to me.”

“Thanks, Keith.”

He wasn’t surprised the Blend of Marmora cup held a venti sugar free caramel macchiato skim, extra shot, extra hot with extra whip – his favorite drink from high school. Of course Keith would remember that, just like Shiro would never forget that Keith only drank chai teas with the exception of a few peppermint mochas around the holidays.

Shiro watched, mesmerized, as Keith lifted his own cup to his mouth, lips pursed about the edges. “I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your brief lapse into normalcy. I was cleaning off the outside tables and saw you. Figured you might be cold.”

The benefits of living only two streets away from the corner café. Shiro had spent half his afternoons as a kid watching Keith clean the tables from his second-story bedroom window. He’d spent the other half in the cafe’s corner booth, pretending to study but watching his best friend-later-boyfriend work.

He wondered every so often if he’d never left that booth, where they’d be now? Married? Divorced? Or back to best friends?

Where were they now?

Shiro crouched to place his cup on the edge of the sidewalk, then fell backwards into the pile of the leaves. Keith loomed over him, eyebrows pinched with worry for a moment. Then the leaves crunched and sighed as Keith fell back next to him.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, just staring up at the serene blue sky, before Keith muttered, “Escape from Beta Traz was all right. Return to Beta Traz – not so much.”

Shiro laughed. “That was the consensus.”

“Why’d you do the sequel?”

“Signed a three-movie deal. I was just happy they stopped at the second.”

“Lance said the only redeeming quality was the shirtless scene between you and that actress.” The leaves swished as Keith looked over to study Shiro. “What was her name?”

“Allura, and yeah. I heard most people…enjoyed that part.”

Shiro heard the shrug in Keith’s voice. “It was all right. Most people don’t remember you in that tight shirt following homecoming. The one where it rained? That was enjoyable.”

Back on L.A. sets, Shiro stood half-naked for many scenes, sometimes for hours at a time during prep. He wore tight jeans he couldn’t breathe in, and he caught the eyes of fans, production assistants, and colleagues alike.

And yet, after all these years, Shiro only blushed for Keith.

“What are you doing back here, Shiro?” Keith asked, a whisper. “Really. Not the bogus story you told Lance and Hunk and the others.”

Shiro tapped his fingers against his stomach. “Thinking about doing Career Day at Marmora High. Mrs. Sanda stopped by a few days ago to ask. Maybe building a new gym while I’m at it. The old one - “

“You know that wasn’t what I meant.”

No, it wasn’t.

“A set of pictures that weren’t even nudes show up on Instagram, and you come running back to Marmora? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Just because my ass isn’t in them, doesn’t mean it wasn’t an invasion of privacy, Keith.”

“It was a shot of your back, Takashi. You were in jeans. I saw more of you in Return to Beta Traz.”

“It isn’t what you think.”

“You were kissing Sendak. So what? Ten years ago, he was the defacto hero of every action movie and every teenage dream. So you and he -“

“He was my mentor, Keith.”

Keith shifted to see him, but Shiro just looked straight into the cloudless sky.

“That was on the set of my first movie, The Black Paladin. Sen played the villain, and I was having such a hard time nailing the romance scenes. I was a kid out of rural America. My last production had been our drama club play. What the hell did I know about pretending to be in love? You were the only person I ever loved. I didn’t have to pretend.”

Keith kept silent, which Shiro took as mercy.

“But Sendak was a pro. Classical trained. Tish School of the Arts. He noticed I was struggling, took me a side, and showed me a few tricks to get me through the scene.”

“And that was the picture shown?” Keith asked, voice soft.

Shiro nodded. “He...I didn’t know he was taking pictures. The second one released? It was taken in his living room. I came over to watch the Patriots’ game. Got beer on my jersey and took it off. We were friends, Keith. He - I stayed over his house. I trusted him. I didn’t think...I didn’t know - What else does he have?

“And I know it’s nothing compared to others,” he added too quickly. “A few friends back in LA. had their phones hacked and -“

“It still was an invasion of your privacy, Shiro,” Keith said. “You don’t have to justify why you feel the way you do.”

“Fans are one thing, you know? Some can be...aggressive, but the occasional candid pic on TMZ? It’s part of my job. But Sen? I guess...I just needed to be with people I know I can trust. Just for a while, if nothing else.”

“You...Shiro, you and he - you weren’t -“

“No,” Shiro replied, firm. He met Keith’s eyes for the first time since they lay back in the leaves. “We weren’t together, not like that.”

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, long enough for clouds to return to the sky. The leaves shifted again, and Keith’s gloves scraped Shiro’s palm. Fingers folded with his own.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, but I’m glad you’re back.”

Shiro smiled, indulging in the silver glimmer in Keith’s eyes. “It’s good to be back.”

Eventually, Keith coaxed him up and toward the coffee shop. 

Leaves peppered the lawn until Shiro finally decided to finish raking four days later.