((trans goth keith, ghost shiro. Keith helps Shiro with his last wishes, afab and amab language for keith, oral. the existence of ghosts is common knowledge in this verse but they’re hard to contact/see. 18+))

The app is called Ouija.

Keith’s best friend, Allura, recommended it to him--she’s part of his little gothy cult, kids who have lived in Atlas Valley their whole lives and who work at Paladin’s Mini-Golf and Diner. There’s him, and Allura, and Lance, and Hunk, and Pidge.

Allura tells him that Ouija will match you to a ghost, and you can help them finish their earthly business. Some people have murders to solve, or last wishes to carry out. Allura helped one with getting an old book to his kids and rectifying his will.

“Why don’t they do it themselves?” Lance asks, the day Allura mentions the app. They’re at work--Allura’s in the little kitchen shack doing the till, and Lance is leaning on the counter in his roller skates, predictably doing nothing.

Keith, Pidge, and Hunk are doing closing tasks, wiping down trays, sweeping, and cleaning the grill. “I mean, they have enough agency to like...manifest, and stuff. Why wait for one of us to do it, why not just handle it?”

“It takes a lot of energy for ghosts to manifest,” Pidge says. “It’s difficult for them to interface human-to-human, whereas services like Ouija help them channel their energies through the internet. It’s actually really interesting.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “It sounds stupid.”

“It’s an opportunity for fellowship with those who have departed,” Allura replies, in her refined way. “It’s not stupid.”

“Oh,” Lance says hastily, “I didn’t mean that part was stupid. Just the...other parts.”

“Sure,” Hunk huffs.

“Just the other parts.”

Keith downloads the Ouija app that same night and enters his info.

Name: Keith

Age: 22

Description: goth seeks ghost

He puts up the listing and goes to bed.

The next morning, he’s got matches. The ghosts don’t pick--they get matched by an algorithm. Keith has about thirty results--he goes off of their names and a brief synopsis of their circumstances, like “Help me rectify my will” or “Pet my dog one last time.”

There’s one that piques Keith’s interest. “Strange request--somewhat urgent. May need to travel. Thanks in advance.” His name is Shiro.

Keith accepts his match, and only his, and then he goes to work.

His primary job at Paladin’s is to roll around on his inline skates patrolling the course for drunk idiots or people trying to fuck in the windmill, and to work the snack shack, where they sell sno cones, hot dogs, shit like that.

When things are slow, he has a chance to check his phone, and that’s when he sees his first message from Shiro.

Shiro: Hi
Shiro: It’s Shiro

Keith scoffs to himself. Yeah, of course it’s Shiro. His name is right beside it.

Keith: hi Shiro
Keith: what r u looking for?

Shiro: Well
Shiro: I have one last trip I’d like to make
Shiro: I’d like to get out to the west coast, to the desert

Huh. Road trip.

Keith: just for fun?

Shiro: Sort of
Shiro: It’s one of my favorite places. I grew up there, and my family is from there
Shiro: I just want one more night under the stars

Keith smiles to himself. Well, fuck it.

Keith: ok. what the hell.
Keith: how r we gonna do this?

Shiro: All you have to do is bring something of mine, and my spirit will follow it.

Keith: where am i gonna get that?

Shiro: I’ll show you. We’ll talk more tonight, okay?

Keith: ok

Shiro: Thanks, by the way

Keith: lmao i haven’t done anything yet

He puts his phone in his bag and rollerblades back to where some dude is puking into the water trap. Jesus Christ.

Work passes pretty quick. Nothing too wild happens. They get rid of the vomiting dude, and after hours Keith and Lance race the whole course to the cheering audience of the rest of their posse, and of course Keith crushes Lance without breaking a sweat.

Once the place is closed up, they pile into Hunk’s truck and go back to Allura’s place--she’s the richest, so much so that the others kinda wonder why she’s working at Paladin’s--to eat takeout and shoot the shit for a while.

“Did you actually download that app, Keith?” Pidge asks, mouth half full of pad thai from their favorite restaurant.

Keith nods. “I have a match.”

The others spring forwards in their chairs, asking a million questions. Who is he? What does he want? How did he die?

“His name is Shiro,” Keith starts. “And he wants me to take him to the west coast. To the desert.”

“Ghost road trip!” Hunk cheers. “That’s great, Keith. This could be really good for you.”

Keith makes a face. “Good for me?”

“Sure,” Pidge smiles. “You’re always all ‘I work alone. I don’t need help. I’m just grumpy.’ Blah blah blah.” She puts on a very generously deep voice and mimics Keith’s little sulky look (pretty well, actually.)

It’s kind of an exaggeration, but it’s not...wrong. Keith's got enough friends, thank you. Pidge and Allura and Hunk and Lance are plenty. He doesn’t talk to the other people who work at Paladin’s, he’s not interested in making friends with the little troupe of punks that--

--sometimes come around to eat cheap fries and scare the Karens and Chads who come to the course on misguided dates, even if they do seem kinda cool.

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s happy, and Ouija is just a way for him to pass the time.

When he zones back in, Hunk and Pidge and Lance are still doing goofy-ass impressions of him, and Allura is giggling into her styrofoam takeout box.

“My name is Keith, check out my cool chin scar,” Lance says, “I wear inline skates because I’m so cool.”

“I think you’re projecting,” Keith laughs. Lance isn’t, like, his favorite guy, but they get along okay, and their harmless rivalry is fun, too. Plus, someone has to tell him to knock it off with making eyes at the customers.

Keith finishes his dinner, and they watch a few episodes of The Night Gallery, and then they disband. Hunk drops Keith off at the course, and takes Pidge home--they’re trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that Lance keeps staying over at Allura’s, even though she’s so--

--out of his league that if Keith thinks about it too much he wants to die.

As soon as he gets home, he's thinking about Shiro. He said they’d talk tonight, but it’s already 10, he hasn’t gotten any new texts from him, and Keith Kogane does not text first--not even with ghosts.

He’s just settling in for an evening of watching The Mummy and eating Phish Food out of the carton in his studio apartment when his phone blings with a Ouija message.

Shiro: Sorry, I’ve been busy

Keith raises his eyebrows.

Keith: what do ghosts get busy doing???

Shiro: You know. Phasing through walls. Moving chairs around. Wailing.

Keith laughs. Okay, Shiro’s a little funny.

Shiro: If you’ll light me a candle, I can manifest, and we can talk face to face.

Huh.

Keith’s never seen a ghost before, but he guesses he’s about to see one now. He’s glad he has about a million candles; he grabs a match, strikes it, and lights it to a few of the wicks (Shiro only said one, but it’s for an atmosphere).

Once they’re lit, he grabs his phone.

Keith: lit the candles

Shiro: Okay, great. I'll be there soon.

So...that’s it? Keith kneels in front of the coffee table, which is absolutely covered in candles, their wax dripped down into big whitish puddles that pool on the wood,--

--and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Nothing appears to change for a long while, and then the television crackles and Brendan Fraser’s face disappears into static, then reappears, then the audio gets distorted and from behind him he hears--

“Keith?”

Keith practically jumps out of his fucking skin.

“Don’t get scared, it’s me, it’s Shiro,” he soothes.

“I’m not scared,” Keith says, catching his breath and only sort of lying. “You just...startled me.”

“Okay,” Shiro laughs. “Sure.”

He looks almost like a living human, just a little...fuzzy. Like he’s glitching, almost. But that doesn’t impede his ability to see that Shiro is fucking gorgeous.

He’s got a little lock of white hair that flops down over his forehead, but the rest is deep black, and there’s a big, smooth scar across his nose. He’s wearing a henley, one sleeve tied off just below the elbow, which stretches cozily over his broad chest, and his narrow waist--

-- gives way to broad hips and thick thighs.

Basically, he’s built like a brick shithouse, and his face is beautiful.

“So, uh...tell me more about your thing,” Keith prompts. “Going out west? To the desert?”

Shiro nods. “You mind if I sit?”

Keith shakes his head, shifting over on the floor so Shiro can park it on the ratty old couch behind him.

Keith shakes his head, shifting over on the floor so Shiro can park it on the ratty old couch behind him.

“Thanks,” Shiro smiles.

“Yeah--I just wanna go back out west, one more time. All you have to do is drive me out there. I can tell you where to get something of mine and everything.”

Keith nods.

“So like a road trip?”

“With a stranger’s ghost, yeah,” Shiro nods.

“You don’t have to say yes--I know it’s kind of a weird proposition.”

Keith shakes his head. “It’s fine. I like road trips." Especially if they're with someone who looks like Shiro. “So, where can I find something of yours?”

“I have a prosthetic arm,” Shiro explains. “It’s in my apartment--I wasn’t wearing it the day I died, but I wore it almost every day, so it’s got a pretty strong attachment to me. I can give you the address, and help you get in.”

Keith nods. “I can go tomorrow?” he offers. “If it’s not too soon?” The more he thinks about the road trip, the more excited he gets about not only the prospect of adventure, but the prospect of adventure *with Shiro.*

Shiro smiles and shakes his head. "Not too soon at all."

(v scary ghost shiro & v not-crushing goth keith are...going on a road trip? if you're liking this, consider sending me a tip! the more $$ i get, the nastier this thread will be, so if you wanna see shiro's ghost dick, u know what to do! https://ko-fi.com/shiromyhero . next part tmrw!)