Unlaced Skates (Klance / Voltron)

Chapter One

Keith had just returned home from the local pride parade--his feet hurt, his phone had low charge, and he had an uncomfortable amount of sweat under his rainbow cape. He was full of hype, but just a little stressed out about having lost Pidge a few times. While Keith had done nothing but smile, happy cry, and shout the entire time, all he really needed was a shower. He had planned to just wear his usual t-shirt and change it up a little in wearing shorts, the only indication that he was gay being his rainbow wristbands. Pidge had insisted that he be a bit more exciting in wearing a big, bright, attention-calling cape. Keith had to agree, he wanted to avoid the "emo" commentary from Pidge at all costs.

Keith wiggled the keys from his pocket; he fumbled to unlock and open the door. As he swung the door open, he jumped at the noise of the television. He didn't leave the TV on. Keith flung his keys at the figure on the couch and rushed to take his shoe off, ready to fight this person who was taking advantage of his cable.

"Keith, what the hell was that??" a slightly aggravated voice answered from the couch.

"Shiro, why the hell are you home??" a more aggravated Keith responded, trying to one-up his brother.

"Well Keith, you see, there's this thing called", Shiro spread his arms out like he was forming a rainbow, "summer vacation."

"Well Shiro, there's this thing called TEXTING OR CALLING so I don't end up MURDERING you when you come home unannounced!! Jesus Christ," Keith closed and locked the door behind him as he took his shoes off and joined Shiro on the couch. Keith let out a long, drawn out, and dramatic sigh as he slid over and plopped his head on his brother's shoulder.

Shiro let out a light sigh as he turned to look at Keith, "Having boy troubles again, mister sweaty man?" Keith jolted up, shooting a scowl at Shiro.

"Wh-? Excuse me? What would make you think I'm having 'boy troubles'", he made air quotes, "and did you really have to call me mister sweaty man?"

"Okay, one, you're sweaty and need to shower and change. Two, you just came home from a pride parade, you probably saw cute boys, c'mon, don't deny it,"

"Shiro--"

"How many pictures did you take in the parade?"

"Twenty-ish, maybe?"

"How many are selfies?"

"Two"

"That leaves eighteen... how many were of the parade and or scenery?"

"Four, but Shiro--"

"ShhhhhHHhHHHHHhh so what were the other fourteen of? Can I see?" Keith hesitantly gave his phone to Shiro to flip through, "ohhh that IS a cute boy! Too bad these are kind of blurry...Why didn't you talk to him?" He passed the phone back to Keith with a raised eyebrow.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you", Keith let out a stressed sigh as he swiped his bangs back, "He was on roller skates, so I couldn't've caught up to him if I tried. Not only that, he seemed to be flirting with everyone except me, so clearly I must be ugly or something."

"Is that...? Jealousy I smell? Look, hon, you want to get this boy's attention, I get it. Why don't you go to the youth pride after-party tonight at 7? He might be there. Pidge texted me about it a bit earlier, I already told her that you'd be interested in going."

"Shiro please tell me why you're putting words in my mouth and TWO! Why do you have time to text Pidge but not me?"

"Well, I was originally asking Matt if he was still able to bring Taboo to game night with Allura and me tonight--but Pidge had his phone so I guess it worked out."

Keith grabbed a pillow and groaned into it, he really didn't want to see this pretty boy again. He nearly passed out from dehydration at the parade; he didn't want to pass out from embarrassment at the party. And when did Shiro have time to plan a game night? He stood up and sulked to his room, phone tight in his grip. He slipped through the door and sat on the bed, moving to lie on his back.

--

Keith: Pi dge what the he l l

Pidge ☆: what dif i do this tibe

Pidge ☆: *ddi *tine

Pidge ☆:*** did **time

Pidge ☆: god

Keith: um, you told Shiro about a party?

Keith: And Shiro told you i was going?

Keith: so now i'm going to a party that I didnt know existed

Pidge ☆: ohhhh ya that

Pidge ☆: it's nbd i mean, i'll be there

Pidge ☆: i need supervision

Pidge ☆: mattll drop me off @ 6;45 can you make it

Keith: i mean I guess, is 6:50 ok

Keith: do you have roller skates (! failed to send !)

Pidge ☆: yah

Pidge ☆: broseph you better be festive >:00

--

Keith's phone died right as he was about to resend the message that had failed to send, one of the most important pieces of this so-called, 'festive' outfit that Pidge requested.

"How convenient", he grumbled as his phone shut off. He left his room, grabbed his charger, his keys from where they were still resting next to Shiro, and raced out the door yelling, "I'm going to the store and I'm not getting anything for you", Keith slid into the driver's seat and grimaced. He was still smelly, sticky, and had roughly three hours to pick up the festive pieces of his outfit and get ready. As Keith's mind buzzed, he pulled his hair up and set out on a mission to find the most low-key pride-related accessories.

Keith pulled into the dollar store lot and stretched, he let out a yawn.

"The dollar store is my lord and savior".

He unplugged his phone and headed into the store. Keith shuffled through the aisles until he came to the section of cheap plastic beads and noisemakers; he snagged the last rainbow assortment of necklaces and so desperately wanted to check out and leave. Keith was about to exit the aisle, exit the store, go back home, get ready, and have two hours to stress about nothing. He was so ready to take a shower.

As he reached for a bag of purple kazoos for Pidge, Keith felt fingers brush his hand. Slightly frazzled, he looked up to find that same pretty boy's face that he was trying to avoid for the rest of the day, maybe even the rest of his life. His eyes widened ever so slightly, he could feel the heat rushing to his ears and cheeks. He wanted to spit out a 'sorry', or an 'excuse me', but all ability to speak was stuck in his gut, which had just dropped to his feet. The pretty boy let out a snicker as he started to speak.

"Well, this is pretty cliché".