“I hate your friends and they hate me too”

Keith mouthed the words to the song playing just a couple decibels shy of deafening as Shiro pressed him against the wall. Over Shiro’s shoulder, he could see Shiro’s friends glaring at him from their customary booth.

He returned the glare.

Keith had tried to convince Shiro that his friends were right to hate him. After all, there were certainly more people that shared Shiro’s friends’ negative opinion of Keith than there were people who shared Shiro’s positive one.

The gist of the negative opinion was pretty consistent, too. Keith was a worthless piece of shit. Troublemaker. Good for nothing. Everyone seemed to have gotten the memo but Shiro. And Shiro was very persistent.

Which is why when Shiro cornered Keith after his shift and pressed him against the wall between the walk-in and the steps to liquor storage every Friday night, Keith let him, even though the beer on Shiro’s breath was nearly overwhelming.

Keith knew that Shiro would never do this without a little liquid courage. Who would treat him this gently, like he was worthy of love and attention? Shiro always acted like he was the one who should be grateful.

Like he was in awe that Keith would let him touch him, kiss him, praise him. Like he wasn’t the only person that had ever even tried any of those things with Keith. Like there was some line of people waiting to adore Keith, and Keith was letting Shiro cut to the front.

It felt nice to pretend for a minute that someone might genuinely feel these kinds of things for Keith. He knew it would all be washed away in the harsh light of the Saturday sun. But on Friday night, he let himself pretend.

//

“Come home with me?”

“What?” Keith thought he must have misheard when Shiro popped the question after two months of consecutive Fridays.

“I’m tired of waking up alone on Saturday, thinking of you.”

“You think of me on Saturday?”

“Not just Saturday,” Shiro’s smile was a little sheepish. “There are so many things I want to do with you.”

Keith gasped and thought of his own list of things he’d imagined doing with Shiro as he ground into Shiro’s thigh in the semi-public space of the bar hallway.

Shiro leaned in and caught Keith’s earlobe between his teeth in a quick nip. Keith shuddered. “I want to take you to breakfast,” he whispered in Keith’s ear. Keith froze. Shiro’s hand moved from Keith’s hip to his ass and Shiro continued “and lunch,” he squeezed, “and dinner.”

Keith thought he had lost the thread there for a minute but he was with the program again. Shiro just wanted to fuck all day. Keith nodded. Yeah that sounded good. He shot one last glance at Shiro’s friends back in their booth as Shiro led him out of the bar,

Keith’s fingers loosely twined in his.

//

Keith woke up next to Shiro Saturday morning, light already streaming in through the window. Shiro was looking at him fondly, cheek smushed into the pillow.

“G’morning sleepyhead.”

“Time is it?”

“Time for breakfast.”

“Mmm” Keith got it. He shifted to be on top of Shiro and started to kiss down his chest.

“Oh, hey wait, I meant actual breakfast, although, this is also an excellent idea and very nice.”

Shiro stretched under Keith and groaned when Keith drew a circle around his bellybutton with his nose. “I thought we might go out to Mitch’s for breakfast.”

Keiths eyes snapped to Shiro’s in disbelief. “But all your friends go to Mitch’s on Saturday mornings.”

Shiro blushed and looked at Keith shyly. “Yeah” he confirmed. “I don’t wanna just keep messing around with you in the back of the bar one night a week Keith. It’s about time my friends got used to having you around. I mean, if you want.”

Keith wanted.

They went to breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. For the rest of their lives. Shiro’s friends came around.

FIN