you bring me home
“I’m… about to say something crazy. Hear me out?” And before Shiro can react Keith drops down to his knees and grabs his left hand.
“Keith?”
“Marry me instead.”
(sheith, past keith/lotor and keith/allura, san junipero au, warning for character death. word count: 8473)
The stars shine brighter here, he first notices.
Then there’s the loud revving of engines as cars pass, the cigarette smoke wafting through the air from the nearby group of party-goers, the flashing lights of billboards and club signs. It’s all so overwhelming, so different that he has to step back into a dark alley to recollect himself.
Different. That was what Shiro came here for. A change of pace, a new chance at life. He can handle this. It just needs a little getting used to.
Breathe in, breathe out. San Junipero is a party town. He can’t waste the limited time he has here. He needs to live again.
His eyes land on the first building he sees when he steps out the alley - a lively club, the stream of people going in and out unending, the bass of the music loud and clear even several feet away. And just like that, he feels as if the club is beckoning him in, like it has an aura of its own.
He straightens himself, striding towards the club with purpose. It seems dumb, to care about whether he’d look out of place during his first night in such a party town. Odds are he looks like an outsider either way. But it’s easier to look like he belongs than to try to make himself invisible.
He skids to a stop near the entrance, however, when he suddenly hears two voices behind him, loud enough to stand out over the city noise.
“Come on, only three hours ‘til midnight,” a man crooned. Shiro turns around and sees two men are crossing the street, both walking towards the club. The one who seemed to have spoken first was the man trailing behind, with white hair and piercing blue eyes. He smirks even if his companion can’t see him, and continues, “There’s no use wasting it, is there?”
“Who says I’m wasting it?” Says the other, voice cold as he continues walking. He’s at least half a head shorter than the white-haired man, black hair styled into a mullet. “Maybe I want to do something different tonight. Like you said, only three hours left.”