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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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When Keith nonchalantly announces he’d found an apartment twenty minutes away and is moving out, Shiro’s heart drops to his feet. He’s so shocked that he nearly drops the spoon he’s using to feed Hana, barely managing to catch it and smearing mashed carrots on her cheeks instead.

Oops. Sorry, kiddo.

His first thought, of course, is oh, shit. Keith thinks he’s being replaced with the baby. He’s moving away because he feels unloved. I am a horrible brother slash father. What have I done.

Luckily, he manages to not say that embarrassing shit out loud, choking out instead a forced “sounds awesome, buddy!” and trying not to cry.

Yeah, that doesn’t go well. Keith is taking his time moving out, taking a few boxes at a time over several days so he doesn’t have to pay for a mover, enlisting Adam’s help to find some decent Craigslist furniture. Shiro has to lock himself in the bathroom no less than nineteen times to cry about it.

It was no big shocker that Adam gets real tired of that real quickly. Shiro was not the only one all mopey, apparently, as evidenced when Adam stomps down the stairs after putting Hana down for a nap, dragging Keith by the ear, and shoving both of them into the kitchen with a set jaw and his patented Glare of Judgement.

“Both of you are so, so stupid,” he says, which is not an uncommon occurrence but does make both of them protest at the exact same time. Adam holds up a hand, silencing them.

“Shut up. Listen to me. Both of you have been moping around my house —”

“Our house,” Shiro mutters petulantly, which does him approximately zero favours.

“— my house for days, crying to me about oh, Adam, he’s disappointed in me, he’s mad at me, what if I made a huge mistake, blah blah blah.” His arms migrate from crossed over his chest to resting sharply at his hips, and his glasses have slid down his nose.

Keith and Shiro share a fleeting, panicked glance. Adam looks ready to cook them both in a stew and feed them to the hungry, as he often says when he’s on his last nerve.

“I am tired of this miscommunication nonsense. I am going to cook you both into stew and feed you to the hungry if you don’t use your words like grownups,” he snaps.

Case in point.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, Adam,” they both say hastily.

Adam huffs. “Good. I am going to go nap with Hana. When I wake up, I better see smiles and excitement, or else. Goodbye.”

With that he stalks off, not glancing back even for a second, completely confident that they would be staying exactly where they were and doing exactly what he asked.

That confidence is not misplaced. Shiro got very, very lucky, in that he married a man who could hype him up just as fast as he could whoop his ass into shape with one look.

It is, if Shiro is being entirely honest, a little bit hot.

“Ew,” Keith complains, even though Shiro is sure he hadn’t spoken aloud.

“You don’t need to say it out loud. I’ve been living with you for twenty fuckin’ years, man. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’re being a simp?”

“Oh, shut up, you little snot,” Shiro says, snapping forward quick as a whip and securing his brother in a headlock.

“Twenty year old big shot, huh?” he teases. “Big man, now?”

Keith thrashes in his hold, raking his nails down Shiro’s arm, but the little dumbass has seemingly forgotten that Shiro has also spent twenty years with him, and knows damn well to accost Keith with his prosthetic limb only lest he want to lose his other arm to Keith’s freakishly sharp teeth.

“Let go of me, you goober!” Keith shouts.

Shiro hums. “No. Also, shut up. You’re going to wake the baby.”

Keith growls, and then before Shiro can prepare himself he’a airborne, flipped right over Keith’s head, narrowly missing the counter as he slams down on the hard kitchen tiles.

The air whooshes out of him with a groan. He suddenly very much feels every single one of his thirty-eight years.

“Take that, old man,” Keith taunts, grinning brightly. “I win.”

Shiro pushes himself into a sitting position with a wheeze, glaring playfully across the kitchen at his dumbass little brother, who mirrors him, leaning against the dishwasher.

“You got lucky, you brat. Try me again in the living room and I’ll knock you flat.”

Keith scoffs, but says nothing further, rolling his eyes playfully as he catches his breath. Shiro takes the time to carefully observe him, not giving a shit how weird that is. He’s been raising this kid for twenty years, dammit. And yet somehow it shocks him, every time he looks, to see stubble shadowing the edges of the kid’s jaw, the broad set of his shoulders and the confident slouch of his back, his calloused hands and easy way he holds himself. A proper man, now. Not the scrawny kid who stumbled into Shiro’s life angry and confused after the death of their father, barely four years old and already convinced the world was garbage. Sometimes Shiro wakes up to Hana’s crying at night and walks right to Keith’s room before stopping abruptly in the hallway, remembering that his kid isn’t so much of a kid anymore.

“You’re lookin’ at me weird,” Keith says.

“You’re weird-lookin’,” Shiro shoots back immediately. It startles a laugh out of Keith, wheezy and kind of ugly.

Shiro swallows the sudden lump in his throat.

“What’s going on, old man?” Keith tries again. His voice is much softer this time. “You’ve been avoiding me. I thought I goofed something; I’ve been nagging Adam about it. What’d I do?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Shiro rushes to assure. It does nothing to smooth the crease between Keith’s eyebrows.

“Sure feels like it.”

Shiro sighs, slumping forward a little. He takes the time to look carefully at Keith again, trying to commit his face further to his memory, separate it from that scared kid’s.

“You will always be my little kid,” he says finally. He smiles as Keith protests immediately. “I know you’re grown, believe me. You think you could’ve slammed me like that ten years ago?”

Keith huffs. “I could’ve gotten close.”

“Not on your life, boogerbrain. You were a shrimp up until two years ago.”

“Whatever,” Keith mutters, scowling.

“Hey.” Shiro nudges him with his foot. “Look at me.”

Keith does.

“I know that’s the last thing any grown kid wants to hear. You’re still my baby boy. I know you’re not, not really. But to me —” his breath hitches, and he can feel his eyes start to well up. “Kiddo, every time you ask me for something it’s the same voice that came panicked into my room after a nightmare. Every time you smile at me I remember the year you lost six teeth in a month and grinned as often as you could so everyone knew it. I know you’re a big boy, an adult. But you will never not be my kid, Keith. You may not be my son, but you’re my boy. You always will be. And I just worry that you don’t know —”

He’s interrupted by Keith’s face crumpling, and then as fast as he flipped Shiro earlier he’s rushing forward and collapsing in his arms, all two hundred some pounds of him gathered in Shiro’s lap like he’s ten instead of twenty.

“I love you, Dad,” he wails. He shoves his face in Shiro’s neck and grips hard onto his shirt; loud, heaving sobs wracking his frame. Shiro immediately starts to cry as well, gripping his kid’s back and squeezing tightly, rocking them back and forth. Keith rarely calls him Dad; he’s always been Shiro, except when he’s emotional and hurting and he needs Shiro to be a dad right then, as much as he needs him to be a big brother.

“I love you too, kiddo,” he chokes out. He presses a kiss to Keith’s messy hair. “So much. To the moon and back, okay? I just don’t want you to move out because you think I’m replacing you with Hana. She’s my kid, absolutely, but you are too, okay? You always will be.”

Keith sniffles. “I know. I never doubted.”

The words are like a balm to Shiro’s heart, soothing the ache and the worry that’s been plaguing him for weeks.

“Oh, thank God.”

Keith pulls away, wiping his tears and snot with his sleeve.

God, he’s so gross. Shiro loves him to pieces.

“Is that why you’ve been so weird?” he asks. “You think I’m moving out because of Hana? I love Hana. I would sell both your kidneys on the black market for that kid.”

“Really feeling the love,” Shiro says drily, but in truth the joke really does make Shiro feel the love. That’s excellent. That’s a million times better than what all the parenting books told him to expect.

Keith has no trouble hearing the glee peeking through Shiro’s sarcasm. It makes him smirk.

“Why are you moving out then, kiddo?” Shiro asks, flicking him on the forehead to send the smirk away. “You’ve still got two years left of school.”

“I know. But I’ve been saving for years, Shiro. I can afford it so long as I keep working on the weekends and work longer hours in the summer. Plus —” he goes curiously red. “I, uh, need my own space. My car isn’t going to cut it. You remember last time you and Adam went out on a date, and you came home early?”

Shiro feels a slow grin spread across his face. He knows exactly where this is going.

“I do.”

“Uh, I also took that opportunity to go on a…date, that had to be relocated to my car before you two came home, and I ended up braining myself on the roof halfway through. Kind of killed the mood.”

Shiro manages, quite graciously in his opinion, to keep silent for thirty whole seconds, before bursting into laughter so strong he goes silent, lungs shaking with the effort.

“You — your head —”

“Oh, fuck off,” Keith says hotly. “I’m never telling you anything again.”

“C’mere, you dork,” Shiro says, pulling a reluctant Keith under his arm and pressing another kiss to the side of his head. “Keep telling me things. Even when you move out. I want to hear about your life, even when it’s embarrassing.”

“Especially when it’s embarrassing, you mean.”

“Mhm. ‘Course. That’s the best part.”

———

It’s a learning curve, that’s for certain. A melancholy one, too, learning to adjust to an absence of someone you’ve been living with for two decades. Shiro is still surprised to do the laundry and not find balled up, nasty gym socks in the hamper that he has to make Keith un-crumple so they can wash properly.

He cries for twenty minutes one day, concerned that Keith is doing his laundry incorrectly. Adam laughs himself hoarse, videoing Shiro’s breakdown with shaky hands and sending it to Keith immediately.

Traitor.

But it’s not like Keith’s suddenly a stranger. He regularly comes over when he doesn’t feel like cooking, and as much as Adam grumbles, he misses Keith as much as Shiro does and makes him a giant meal every time. Keith also comes over purely to ignore Shiro and Adam to hang out with Hana, and he thinks he’s being all annoying and bothersome to spite them, but truly every time is a wonderful opportunity for Adam and Shiro to nap.

…Among other things.

But the highlight of Keith learning to live on his own, by far, are the occasional, how-do-you-adult texts he sends Shiro at random times.

from: brat child

takashi, my most beloved brother slash father big hero six style.

Shiro snorts, switching Hana to one arm so he can use the other to type.

to: brat child

Bringing up that movie will not make me more inclined to help you.

from: brat child

false actually every time i mention that movie you become twelve percent easier to manipulate

to: brat child

I am getting less and less inclined to humour you every minute.

from: brat child

yeesh okay

The typing dots go on for several minutes, appearing and disappearing as Keith puzzles out what he wants to say.

from: brat child

okay so usually i would call adam about this because he’s a better adult than u no offense. but i’m not really in the mood to talk for an hour so ur my next best bet

to: brat child

How did you just make your case worse? I’m honestly impressed.

from: brat child

ANYWAY.

from: brat child

how often do u clean the oven?? i don’t remember u doing it very often but obviously it has to be done frequently.

Hana makes a funny noise, clapping her hands together.

“You’re right,” he tells her sagely. “Your brother is strange.”

to: brat child

Keith, I almost never clean my oven.

from: brat child

seriously?? i’m cleaning this bitch every time i use it

to: brat child

…Why?

from: brat child

well i don’t want the bottom to just be all disgusting

from: brat child

wouldn’t all the blood and grease and shit rot?? or burn?? how is that not a food safety hazard??

Shiro furrows his brow. What in the shit is this kid talking about?

to: brat child

Are you talking about your oven or the baking sheet?

from: brat child

baking sheet??

Oh. Oh yes.

from: brat child

my oven has metal grills on the inside

from: brat child

it sears the food nicely but it’s such a pain in the ass to clean

Shiro laughs out loud, unable to control himself, and Hana quickly joins him, happy to share in the laughter.

“That’s right,” he coos. “Your brother is a dumbass! Luckily for you, you don’t have the same genes, hm? No, you’re a smart girl.”

to: brat child

Let me get this right. You’re putting the meat directly on the grills to cook, right?

Keith’s response comes immediately.

from: brat child

yeah to cook

Shiro snickers again to himself. What a dumbass.

to: brat child

Hold on, I’m tweeting this.

Shiro doesn’t fully get why his twitter account is so big. He certainly didn’t intend for it. He was just dicking around online one day, decided to make a funny post of something he saw Adam doing with Hana. He will never understand how he got so viral so quickly, but Keith hates it, which makes it inherently hilarious.

from: brat child

what about that was tweet worthy

Shiro has barely hit ‘post’ on the screenshot before the notifications come pouring in. He figured this one would get a good laugh.

to: brat child

Dumbass. You’re supposed to get a thin metal pan to cook the food on, so you can clean the pan and keep your oven clean.

from: brat child

WHAT

from: brat child

WHY DOES NO ONE TELL ME ANYTHING

Shiro shakes his head, snorting. God, he can’t wait for more of this. Being a parent is great.

“Isn’t it, Hana?”

She gurgles happily in response.

———

Shiro doesn’t hear a lot about Keith’s love life. He hears about his friends, sure — dear Lord does he ever worry about the kind of shit his dumbass kid and Matt’s dumbass sister get into — and lots of complaining about school.

But dating life?

Nope. Nada. Zilch.

(He suspects Adam gets this information, if only because he looks infuriatingly smug whenever Shiro sulks about it. Ugh, he is so lucky that Shiro is attracted to him even when he’s being a prick.)

(Arguably, possibly, a little more attracted.)

(Shiro does not have a thing for bossy, arrogant men who tell him what to do. He does not.)

One day, though, Shiro gets a text that changes everything.

from: oven boy

so i’ve found the love of my life, which is kind of cool.

Shiro calls that brat child immediately, obviously.

“Tell me everything,” Shiro demands, not bothering with pleasantries. That’s what caller I.D. is for.

“He’s so beautiful,” Keith sighs. “The prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, holy shit. And he’s so fucking smart. Apparently he’s a friend of a friend of Pidge’s. She didn’t set it up or anything, but she recognised him when we went to the bar last night —”

“Both of you are underage,” Shiro says, as if he and Matt did not have fake I.D.’s by age sixteen.

(To get a fishing license for a prank of theirs, but still.)

Keith ignores him. “—and we started talking and holy shit, Shiro. Never in my life have I wanted to participate in a conversation so badly. We talked for five fucking hours.”

Shiro whistles. That’s a long-ass time for anyone, but Keith especially.

“Damn. This boy must be something special, huh?”

Keith sighs dreamily again, which is quite possibly the best sound Shiro has ever heard. He can’t wait to tell Adam.

“He really is. I can’t wait until I finally figure out his number.”

Aaannnnd there we go. Shiro knew this sounded to normal to be true.

“…Pardon?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Context.”

“That would be useful, yes.”

“It’s easier if I show you. Hang up, I’ll send you a picture.”

“Alright,” Shiro says hesitatingly. He has barley pressed the red ‘end call’ button before his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

from: oven boy

okay so i got most of it

to: oven boy

How the hell do you get ‘most’ of a number?

A picture pops up, of what’s very obviously a bar napkin, scrawled on with blue glitter pen. It reads: ‘Call me! 512 - 3*1 - 2*04. —Lance. P.S. — trust me, I’m worth it ;)”

Shiro is, frankly, at a loss for words.

to: oven boy

I can confidently say I’ve never seen anything like that before. What’s your plan?

Instead of an explanation, another picture buzzes in. This one is Keith’s familiar messy scrawl, and dozens of numbers written out on lined paper, each one with a different digit for the ones the mysterious Lance had omitted. Several of the numbers are crossed out.

His phone rings again, and he picks up hastily.

“Are you seriously trying every possible number you can?”

He can picture Keith’s shrug through the phone. “Like I said. He’s my soulmate.”

Shiro hums thoughtfully. “You sure he actually wants you to call him? Wouldn’t he just give you his number?”

“I’m sure,” Keith says confidently. Then he chuckles sheepishly. “The chase might be on me, though. We were talking about mysteries and stuff, and I said that I could solve every mystery before the end of the documentary, easy.”

Shiro snorts. “Arrogant boy. Spending a lot of time with Adam, hm?”

“I mean, I really can solve the mysteries. Usually.”

“Mhm. And how far are you through your numbers list?”

A pause.

“Halfway,” Keith says, lying.

“Right,” Shiro says, shaking his head fondly. “I’m tweeting about this, too.”

———

Shiro’s not a big believer in fate. That’s more of Keith’s thing, really.

But when he gets a specific DM, a couple days after his tweet goes viral, he starts to think that maybe Keith’s fuckin’ right.

For once.

The DM is from someone named LoverboyLance, which piques Shiro’s interest immediately.

from: LoverboyLance

howdy!!!! ur probably not gonna see this BUT i’m lance from the tweet!!!

from: LoverboyLance

the one about ur brother lol

It, honestly, takes Shiro a few minutes to respond. He’s genuinely gobsmacked.

to: LoverboyLance

HOLY SHIT!!!!

He calls Keith immediately.

“I have some news for you.”

“Feel free to get to it,” Keith says drily. “I’m kind of busy.

Shiro sniffs. “Well, if you’re busy I guess I won’t bother you, then. I’ll tell twitter user LoverboyLance that you’re not interested in the DM i just got from him. I see how it is.”

“No no no no no, wait!” Keith yells, panicked. “I’m sorry! Come back! Please tell me everything!”

Shiro considers letting him stew for a while, but he’s honestly too excited.

“There’s not much to tell, but I got a DM confirming that Lance knows you’re looking for him.”

“Please beg him to give me his number! I lied about being halfway done!” Keith pleads.

“On it,” Shiro promises. He hangs up and gets right back to twitter.

to: LoverboyLance

I just talked to him!!! He said a couple days ago that he was halfway done which means he’s barely put a dent in it, the dork. What’s your number?

The response comes almost immediately.

from: LoverboyLance

someone isn’t as clever as he thinks lol

Shiro laughs out loud. “No, he is not.”

from: LoverboyLance

give me his number. i’m taking over this operation

Happily, Shiro does. He doesn’t hear anymore from Lance, but twenty minutes later, he gets one text from Keith:

from: oven boy

shiro i love u

from: oven boy

ur the best

Shiro smiles softly to himself, shaking his head.

to: oven boy

I love you too, kiddo.

Perhaps fate really does have some bearing.

———

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