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jmeddows2 · 5 years

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Purple Thunder (Roger Taylor Series) - Part 2

(present/old) Roger Taylor x Reader

Notes:** Sorry for grammar mistakes/ weird sentence structures. English is not my first language but anyways, I gave it a go. Enjoy and feel free to submit requests, feedback etc.

There are going to be some inaccuracies regarding song lyrics throughout the series.

This is what I imagined Reader to wear:

Part 2: You woke up the next day to an empty bed, because Josh had already gone to a band meeting for his upcoming tour. You made your way into the kitchen to find a note on the counter: *Morning babe, I’m at the studio, coffee should still be hot. Have fun today, miss you already, I love you*

With a smile on your face, you pour the coffee into your own merchandise mug and grab your phone.

*5 unread messages*

*From: Ruf - Darkness*

“you’re meeting up with my dad today??? :O why didn’t you tell me? ☹ x ” – 7.03 am “oh sorry, good morning, (Y/N) :D x” – 7.04 am “congrats on the Grammy by the way, I want to be you when I grow up 😉 x” – 7.10 am “my dad told me to take you home to his home studio in Surrey, if that’s ok x” – 7.20 am “I’ll pick you up at 11 x” – 7.24 am

You first met Rufus when your band was a support group for his band ‘The Darkness’, during that time you also had a short fling with his lead singer. Honestly though, it was all about the parties, coke and booze. On one of those drunken nights you ‘accidently’ expressed your love for Queen and especially Roger, to Rufus. He was so shitfaced that he probably forgot every word you said anyways.

You were a little disappointed, that Roger didn’t text or call you himself, since you exchanged numbers the night before. Taking a quick glance at the clock you nearly dropped your mug. 10.33 am. ‘Fuck, how am I supposed to get ready within the next 27 minutes?’, you thought to yourself. You took a quick shower, brushed your teeth, put on a white lace bralette, some light – blue ripped jeans and a fluffy, short coat. A little exposing, but that was your trademark after all and you couldn’t just show up to Roger fucking Taylor’s house wearing joggers and an old, washed out shirt, right? While applying your eyeliner you received a message on your phone:

*From: Ruf – Darkness* “I’m outside x”

You took one last glance in the mirror, locked the door and made your way outside. There was Rufus, leaning against a red Ferrari 308 GTB. Once he spotted you, a smile appeared on his face and he greeted you with a big hug: “Ahhh, (Y/N)! Long time no see, how have you been?” “Pretty good, how else would a Grammy winner feel?”, you replied. “Congratulations, majesty. I meant what I said by the way, I want to be you when I grow up”, you chuckled at his comment. “Ruf, you’re older than me. Nice car you got there!” He opened the door for you, closed it, got in on the driver’s side and the car journey began. “My dad actually gifted it to me, he bought it in 1983, but this bad boy is still in the best shape. You look very pretty today! Who’d you dress up for, though? We’re just going to see my dad and you’re going to be locked up in a studio”, he chuckled. His words made you blush, but thankfully he didn’t notice. “Thank you. But what do you mean, Ruf? I always wear this kind of stuff. How long is the drive anyway?” “About 35 minutes, I lived in Surrey my whole life. My sisters lived with my mum though. The only people that still live in the Surrey home are my dad and his wife.”, he explained. Right. You totally forgot that Roger was a married man. “I see, some embarrassing childhood pictures I could browse for then?!”, you tried to cheer yourself up. “Don’t even try, love”, he chuckled.

The drive went by quickly and you found yourself in front of the biggest house you’d ever seen. And you’d seen plenty of them. It was majestic, close to a castle, with lots of greenery. Hell, the garden was at least ten times as big as your apartment in the city of London, which was far from small itself.

“T- that’s where you grew up?”, you stuttered. “Yeah my dad owns a few houses. One’s in Ibiza, one in Switzerland, a mansion in LA, there’s also the apartment in Kensington. I used to live in Kensington one with my girlfriend, but we decided to get our own place in Soho”, he laughed. “So nice to hear, how’s Jessica by the way?” you asked as you both walk towards the front door. “She’s good, very good. But it’s so hard to have such hectic lives, my touring and her modelling job. Who am I to tell you about these kinds of things? You know exactly what I’m talking about. Greet Josh from me, by the way.”, he answered. Hearing those words, your mind drifted to your boyfriend, Josh, and you wondered what he was on about in this moment. Your thoughts were cut off as the door swung open. “Hi, there you are, kids.” Kids. Ouch. “Nice to see you again Mr. Taylor!”, you stretched out your hand. “C’mere”, he took you by surprise and pulled you into a big hug. When he released you from the probably best hug you’d ever received, a slight pink shade started to form on your cheeks. Thankfully the two didn’t notice, because he turned to Rufus and greeted him just the same way. Rogers expensive cologne still lingered on your chest from the hug and you swore it was your favorite smell already. “You two must be hungry, I prepared some ‘pigs in blankets’ for lunch. I know it’s not much, but Sarina’s not here and I suck at cooking.”, Roger stated proudly. “Sorry pap’s, I can’t stay over, I promised my girl Jessica to accompany her to a photoshoot. (Y/N)? I’ll pick you up at 8 to go back home?”, Rufus asked you. “Don’t bother, Rufus, enjoy your time with Jess.”, Roger said, as he turned to you “I can give you a ride home, (Y/N). I figured to stay in Kensington for the upcoming weeks, since my wife is gone to shoot a new movie. So if you don’t mind…” “I’d appreciate that, thank you, Mr. Taylor”, you smiled kindly. “It’s Roger for you, don’t make me even older than I already than”, he said with a sad smile, never leaving your eyes. “You’re not that old”, you decided to cheer him up. “She’s right”, Rufus chimed in. “..you still got it….. for an old man”, he laughed. Roger took it with humor and was quick to tell him: “Don’t you have somewhere to be, son?” A quick goodbye was exchanged, with the two of you left in the kitchen.

“Let me give you a quick house tour before we get to work, darling?”, his words sent shivers down your spine. With each room, your eyes grew bigger and bigger, it must have cost a fortune, made you speechless and Roger noticed your excitement, which made him kind of proud of himself. The mansion included seven bedrooms, a huge swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, several game rooms, stables and a tennis court outside. “Wow”, was the only thing you were able to mouth while you two stood in front of the lake, right beside his house. “You know, I always used to come down here, when things get too crazy. I’ve written so many songs here. It’s inspirational, peaceful.” “I can see exactly what you mean”, you agreed with him. “When things got too crazy for me, I never really had somewhere to go, you know? To blow some steam off. That’s why I literally exploded”, you sad with a sad smile. “Sorry to bore you with that.” “No, no, I know what it’s like, love. The constant pressure, people being complete wankers and judging your every move, I’ve been there before, don’t worry about that”, he gave you sympathetic smile. “…except that there isn’t a Grammy stood on my trophy wall”, he continued. You two started to laugh when a serious expression started to form on his face: “Seriously though, don’t let these wankers get to you. You’re a talented, pretty, young girl. If you should ever need some advice, help or anything, I’d love to help you out, to mentor you. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, this is only the beginning.” “Thank you, that means a lot coming from rock royalty, Mr. T-, I mean Roger”, you blushed. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”, you asked to escape the situation. It didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, in fact, you wanted to hug him and shower him with compliments, but that would be too weird, right? You two made your way to the back of the house where his home studio was situated. It was bigger than any recording studio you’d ever been in. You spotted approximately 20 guitars, a beautiful white piano, a ukulele, 5 drum kits in different sizes etc. You found yourself admire the walls, which held framed drum skins of his, one had his face on, another one had a simple ‘Queen’ written over it, and right next to that, one with the Queen logo. As you reached the last one a ‘smile’ crept onto your face, as it was the Smile band logo (see what I did there? 😉) You were so mesmerized by the drum skins, that you didn’t notice Roger standing right behind you. “I see you’ve found the old gems, love”, he made you jump. You couldn’t even find the words to say before he began: “So I’ve got this little song here and I’d like to release it sometime soon, but I’d love to hear your opinion on it, your honest opinion!”, with that the song began to play.

A heavy guitar started the song, while a steady beat kicked in in the background, accompanied by the lyrics ‘wake up, you boys; shape up, you girls; are you, aware; there’s gangsters running this world’. You lost it at the next part when there was heavy drumming involved, nodding your head to the beat, while Roger always kept his eyes on you, to get a great view of your reaction. Once the song was over, he broke the silence: “So? How’s that? Be brutally honest!”

“Honestly?”, you managed to keep a straight face which turned into a smile, “I love it, the guitars, the drums, the lyrics, it’s catchy and has a real meaning.”

“Are you sure? I could spend a little more time on mixing it to-“ “It’s perfect, Roger, I mean it”, you cut him off. He smiled at you. How could a rock legend like him be so self – conscious? As he fiddled with the buttons on the mixing board you found yourself staring at him. Admiring his beauty, blue ocean eyes, you could get lost in them. You dreamed of situations like this since you were younger, even younger than now. He didn’t look his age at all, his smile looked the same as it did in 1975. Damn. How could anybody be so beautiful?

“..did you just hear me?” “Sorry, what?” “I asked if you want to grab something to eat right now? We could take it down to the lake” “That sounds awesome”, you answered. “What’s the song called?”, you asked as you dipped your feet into the lake, taking a bite from the ‘pig in a blanket’. “Gangsters are running this world, actually. I also dubbed it to be the ‘purple version’” You nearly choked at his words. “Purple?”, asked. “Yeah, it’s kind of an homage to you and your band. You inspired me on the musical parts” For the literally hundredth time that day you felt speechless. You just stared at him searching for words, which you most certainly couldn’t find. This atmosphere inspired you to the fullest: peace, silence, only birds chirping, you decided to scribble down some lyrics into your notebook. You didn’t even have to think hard about it, it just came naturally. Once you looked up, Roger was already looking at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?”, you asked. “No, was just admiring the view, I must say you look very beautiful today. Not just today, you always do.”, he said. You thanked him and were quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom, even though had no intention to use it. Is this really happening? You splashed some water on your face to calm down a little. *Roger’s POV* ‘Wow you really outdid yourself once again’, he thought to himself. ‘What is this girl doing to you?’ He knew it was wrong to say such a thing, but he couldn’t help himself once he saw your face all concentrated, shining eyes flying over the paper, the tip of your tongue poking out to lick your lips slowly. *(Y/N)’s POV* You made your way back to Roger, as it was starting to get darker and darker outside. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier.”, he apologized. “That’s not it, Roger, I’m just really tired, it’s been a long night yesterday and I’m exhausted.” Lies. You were literally asleep once you arrived home at 11 pm. “That little boyfriend of yours got kept you awake then?”, he laughed. “Stop”, you playfully hit him. You didn’t want to admit that it was actually him, you were thinking about right before you fell asleep. The ride home was quiet, mainly because you fell asleep after 5 minutes, cuddled into the seat of Roger’s spacious Range Rover. “(Y/N), love? We’re here!”, he gave you a light shake, got out of his seat, walked over to your side, to open the door for you.

“thanks for your help today”, he smiled down at you. “I wasn’t any help at all, but you’re welcome”, you smiled back. Roger pulled you into a hug, there it was. His smell, you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. And your heart started to beat fast. The warm, safe feeling was quickly cut off by the clicking of cameras. Fuck. Paparazzi. You exchanged quick goodbyes, escaping the situation and to prevent more pictures to be taken. Fuck. They had to ruin everything. Maybe it was for the best. Walking into the flat Josh had already been waiting for you on the couch. “What is that?” he sounded angry. “What is what?” He pointed to a picture on his phone which showed Roger and you hugging just a few minutes ago. Fuck, those paparazzi’s work fast.

#roger taylor #Queen #roger taylor x reader #present day roger #present day roger x reader #Brian May #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #rock band #rock music #classic rock #purple thunder

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venomade · 6 years

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Diamonds in His Eyes

This is for @brightisthedawn for the @shaladinsecretsanta! I apologize that it’s a little late - my life got pretty hectic post-Christmas. They asked for a fantasy AU of some kind! Hopefully, a Tangled AU counts as fantasy for them. And, at the very least, I hope you enjoy my interpretation of Shiro and Keith in this setting.

Pairing: Shiro/Keith

Summary: As Shiro's 25th birthday approaches, he's almost accepted that he may spend the rest of his life hidden away in a tower, with only his mother and cat for company. But now there's a man tied to his favorite chair, claiming he can take him to the kingdom of lights. [Shiro/Keith - Tangled AU]

Read on AO3 HERE

In his defense, Shiro had panicked.

He had been on his bed, reading the latest novel his mother had gifted him, when he heard footsteps hit the wood floor downstairs. At first, he thought he might have imagined it - maybe it was some kind of latent coping mechanism to deal with his mother's final refutation of his only birthday wish. But then he heard Kovu, his large black cat, hiss from the other side of the room, bristling with a rage he had never seen in his docile pet. And that's when the fear struck him.

Mother had said this might happened. It was statistical improbability, she had assured, but that didn't mean she would leave him without precautions. Regardless, a lot of his free time was spent strength training around the tower. If this intruder was expecting some damsel to cower before them, Shiro would undoubtedly shatter them.

Still, it had frightened him that someone other than his mother was in the tower now. He'd spent his whole life fantasizing about meeting another person - greeting them, walking with them, talking with them. But all those fantasies were outside of the tower, in the cities and castles and forests he had constructed in his head. Inside the tower...that was another story entirely.

Shiro had tip-toed out of his room and used his hair to make his way to the bottom floor. The intruder was looking over the murals Shiro had painted beside the kitchen when he approached, their hair black and unkempt, frayed strands moving past their ears and down his neck. He didn't catch a good look at the intruder's face before he smashed the back of his favorite pocket knife into their head, but he could definitely tell they were a man. Even if they were slim, they lacked the softness and curves he was accustomed to with his mother. He had almost felt guilty over the act, but it was what mother would have wanted. Shiro had to protect himself and his gift at all cost. The kingdom had to be kept at peace, and for that to happen, Shiro had to be locked up and out of reach of ruthless, greedy hands.

Yet, he might have felt a tad more guilty on account of the man's smooth, handsome face.

"Oh, wow..." Shiro's breath had caught as he turned the man over, black tresses falling over his face. The man's skin was fair, his nose sharp, and his lips full and pink. A satchel was wrapped around his body, but Shiro had no desire to pry into the man's belongings. Shiro had blinked, unsure what to do with the stranger except stare at him and his pretty face. And had it not been for Kovu's persistent hissing, that might have been a real possibility.

Now, here he was: waiting in the shadows of his reading corner, waiting for the man to wake up. He had his knife tucked into his back pocket and a chunk of his hair wrapped around his right arm. Had mother been there, she would have hoisted him out of the window and buried him in a ditch in the forest. But for all her lessons, for all her insistence that people were inherently evil and would come to ravage Shiro and his gifts at a moment's notice, Shiro could not harden his heart to that capacity. His mother may have seen the evil of man, she may have been manipulated, betrayed, and abused - but Shiro hadn't. And the least he could do was give this man the chance to speak for himself and justify his actions.

Besides, there was a small part of him (a very, very small part, he assured himself) that wondered what his eyes looked like. If they were as pleasant as the rest of his face, his heart might actually skip a beat. And that - to feel what was written in all those romance novels and fairy tales - was his most private, most coveted fantasy.

-----

When Keith woke up, the back of his skull was pounding.

He moaned as he attempted to open his eyes, the pain amplified with just the slightest tilt of his head. He tried to move his arms to soothe the ache, but he felt ropes wrapped tight around his shoulders and waist, effectively restraining him. God, what had hit him? The last thing he could recall was looking at those murals. He had been surprised by how detailed the paper lanterns were, and how lush and green the trees appeared. He wasn't an expert, but he knew that took skill and years of practice. Had his life not gone to complete shit in the past twenty-four hours, he might have stuck around long enough to meet the artist.

Well, wish granted, Keith cringed and shook his head. At the very least, he had to open his eyes and get used to his surroundings again. If he wanted to survive this ordeal, he'd need every sense available. He squeezed his eyes a second time, and slowly relaxed his face to open them. At first, his vision was blurry, but he could make out the trace of the window he had entered from along with its stream of accompanying sunlight. As his eyes adjusted to the light and the ache in his skull subsided to a dull, nagging pang, Keith could see the plants sitting atop the window, as well as the mural of vines and woodland sprites spiraling around the window's brick frame. Keith blinked and turned his head, unconcerned with his head's persistent protest. He drank in the murals that seemed to touch every corner of the walls - he especially liked the quintet of cats near the bookshelf, though he wondered why the artist had decided to color a few of them in such outlandish hues like bright blue and neon green.

"Amazing," Keith breathed out, his voice feeling scratchy against his parched throat. God, when was the last time he had anything to drink? And how long had he been restrained to this chair? His arms and legs felt stiff, and his stomach emitted a low growl, alerting Keith to another problem. He could do without that, really. It wasn't like he could feed himself with these ropes -

"Who are you?" a soft, deep voice penetrated the quiet of the tower, and Keith whipped his head towards its direction, wincing as his vision swerved and his headache intensified. That voice sure didn't sound like anyone he would expect in this tower. Though, to be fair, everything about this place was unexpected. When he had first discovered the tower, he had assumed it would be abandoned - the perfect place to hideaway for the next few days. But the murals had looked too fresh, the plants too lively, and the scents too potent for the tower to be vacant. He would have left after a little more meandering through the first floor but, well...

At least he had a good idea as to who knocked him out.

"My name - " Keith caught himself. Unveiling his real name to a complete stranger bordered on moronic. He gathered his thoughts, and recollected a boy from his hometown with clear, hazel eyes and black hair similar to his own. That could work. "My name is Akira."

"Akira...that's a nice name, actually," the voice said, a hint of wonder lacing its tone. But that wonder was soon replaced by coarse, rigid words, an unspoken threat intertwined with every syllable, "How did you find this tower, and why are you here?"

"I was...escaping a few, uh, ruffians who were after something of mine," Keith replied, doing his best to remain as vague as possible. Wouldn't do to have this stranger know his profession revolved around stolen crowns and street brawls with castle guards. "I found this tower while I ran through the forest. I thought it was abandoned, and thought I could use it to lay low for a few days. Or until I thought I was safe."

He paused, unsure if that was a satisfactory answer. He decided to continue, more for himself than the stranger hidden in the shadows. His stomach was wracked with both hunger and guilt, and he couldn't - he wouldn't - have someone think he was a common thief ready to kill and maim whenever necessary. "I didn't mean to alarm you, and I promise I won't cause you harm. Had I known this tower was someone's home, I wouldn't have intruded. I...I apologize."

"Do you mean that?" the voice asked, the wonder returning to its voice. Keith couldn't quite place it but the words, while confident and assured, seemed stilted, as if they weren't used to talking to others. Though, Keith could imagine that living in a tower this far out from the rest of the kingdom prevented its occupants from taking many social calls. Perhaps Keith was the first person they'd seen in a long, long while.

"Yes, I do mean that - I won't harm you," Keith nodded, his face steeled with conviction.

"Okay...okay," the voice said. "I'll undo your restraints. But, if you're lying, you'll have to answer to me and my cat."

"Your cat?" Keith quirked a brow. At his words, a vicious hiss shot throughout the room. It seemed to be directly behind Keith - maybe the cat was propped up on top of a dresser or closet shelf. But whatever the cat looked like, Keith was sure that the voice was not one to make empty threats. "Alright, you have a deal. But, it would be nice to see who I'm talking to, and who hit me so damn hard."

"Oh - I, uh, apologize about that," the voice stammered, its tone growing sheepish. Keith almost smiled, amused that he, the intruder, was being apologized to. "You're the first person besides my mother and I to ever be in this tower."

"Really? That's sort of - " Keith's next words were interrupted however, as he felt the ropes wrapped around him loosen, his arms and legs tingling in response. He looked down, unsure how the stranger had done that from the shadows. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the long, thin black strands tied by thick, white ribbons every two feet or so. Mild fascination and horror swirled through him, his fingers tugging at its soft, fine ends.

The ropes weren't ropes at all.

"That's hair," Keith's voice was calm despite his unnerving realization. He had been tied down by really strong, really long hair. His list for the day's unpredictable events was starting to become daunting, and he wasn't sure if he could stomach any more of it. "You bound me to hair."

"I apologize for that, too," the voice consoled as the hair spiraled off of Keith and slithered into the shadows. "We don't keep ropes in the tower."

"Why?" Keith asked, grasping onto the ends of the chair's arm rest until his knuckles went white. He had promised he wouldn't hurt the voice, but that didn't rule out self-defense. Without ropes, no one could escape the tower unless they were exceptionally skilled at scaling walls. Was the voice lying to him, trying to catch him off-guard? Where was their "mother" anyway?

He could hear the voice take a deep breath and clothes shuffle, as if hands were smoothing out wrinkles on a shirt. Soon, he heard a pair of feet approach him. The footsteps weren't loud or skittish or fast - they were controlled, deliberate, slow. He could also hear hair rustle against the floor as well, but that confused Keith the most. For hair to drag along the floor...

But then a form finally stepped out of the shadows, and all thoughts of hair and footsteps dissolved.

From the voice, Keith had suspected it was a man, and a man he definitely was. He was tall, maybe four or five inches taller than Keith, with broad shoulders and a full chest. He wore a black, long-sleeved tunic, and a thick, brown belt was fastened around his waist. Brown breeches finished the simple ensemble, his feet surprisingly bare. But that wasn't what Keith was truly amazed by.

The man's face was a complete vision. Like something out of a storybook.

His skin was a lush olive, contrasting well against his tunic's collar. He had a strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, and a long, refined nose. Wide lips, a few shades lighter than his skin, filled out the bottom of his face. Thick brows framed his eyes, monolid and accompanied by long, black eyelashes. And his eyes - his eyes were a dark gray, reminding Keith of clouds before a storm, or smoke above a dying fire. They shined as they took in Keith's stare, as if the man was stupefied by his presence, by the fact he was still in the chair watching him approach. His frame may have been poised, his back straight and his lips void of a smile or a frown - but his eyes were elated. They sparkled.

There were diamonds in his eyes, more precious than any jewel or treasure Keith had stolen before. He was sure of it.

So taken by the man's eyes, he almost missed the vivid white bangs swept against his forehead and the long, black hair that traveled down his shoulders, passed his legs, and onto the floor. His hair was kept tidy by the white ribbons. Instead of the ribbons making him look dainty or effeminate, they made him appear sophisticated, regal.

"The hair...that's your hair," Keith let out when the man was a few feet away, his heart swelling with unspoken words. He had never felt so compelled - he had never felt compelled at all - to tell someone how beautiful they were. Was this tower enchanted - was this man? There had to be some kind of spell in the air, something that was filling his lungs with a crackling adoration for a man he had just met.

"We...we don't keep ropes in the tower because..." the man began, his eyes shifting from Keith's face to the floor. He spiraled a chunk of his hair around his arm, and crushed one of the ribbons underneath his fingertips. "Because it's a precaution. So that no one can steal me away."

"Steal you away? Why would anyone do that?" Keith asked, even as he knew precisely why he would whisk this man out of the tower.

The man paused and closed his eyes - perhaps weighing his options towards telling Keith the truth or keeping it a secret. He grimaced, but then soon turned his attention back to Keith, the diamonds in his eyes glossed over in resolve. "You weren't after me? You have no idea what I'm capable of?"

"No. No, I - all I wanted was a safe place to stay," Keith almost pleaded, but he kept his tone as composed as possible. He felt heat in his cheeks, shame clawing at the back of his throat. The man searched Keith's face for answers, judging if Keith was someone he could trust. Keith had already lied to him, had already showed his true colors. He wasn't a man anyone should trust, least of all someone so beautiful as the person before him. "But you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. And I promise, once I leave I'll never -"

"You want to leave?" the man interrupted, something akin to hurt giving his voice a raw, raspy quality.

"I thought you would want me gone as soon as possible," Keith replied. "Before your mother returns. If she thinks everyone is after you, I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to throw me out the window the moment she found me in this chair."

The man blinked. A moment passed, and he cracked a smile, his eyes sparkling elation once more. The smile was soon followed by a giddy laughter, and Keith's ears tickled at the sound. "Yeah - that was one of my first thoughts, actually. My mother would be throwing your body down a cliff by now. Maybe even offer your corpse to the wolves down south."

"Lucky me, then," Keith sighed, tempted to roll his eyes. Good to know that in his sea of bad fortune, death and dismemberment had yet to be fished out.

"Lucky you, indeed," the man continued to smile, straightening his back and offering Keith his hand. "My apologies, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Shiro, and behind you is my cat, Kovu."

Keith took the man's hand - smooth and dry - and hoisted himself off the chair. He returned the smile and reluctantly let his hand slip from his grasp. "It's good to meet you, Shiro. Again, I'm sorry for -"

Something jumped onto Shiro's shoulders before he could finish, forcing Keith to stumble backwards, the back of his legs hitting the front of the chair. He winced, but turned his attention back to Shiro and the black cat now perched on his shoulders. Yellow eyes bore into Keith, and Kovu's nose flared. It seemed while Shiro was willing to trust him, the cat required further observation.

"Uh, nice to meet you too, Kovu," Keith didn't dare approach the cat, deciding to provide Kovu with a casual salute instead. While he wasn't afraid of a few scratches to his face, being maimed by Shiro's cat could damper the start of their friendship.

"Apologies for my cat as well," Shiro gave him a sheepish grin, and leaned his face into Kovu's fur. The cat purred at the affectionate gesture, placated for the moment. "He hasn't seen anyone besides my mother and I since he was a kitten."

"All is forgiven," Keith chuckled. "How old is he anyway?"

"Seventeen," Shiro answered, matter-of-fact, and frowned at the sight of Keith's bulging eyes and open mouth. "Is that unusual?"

"Most cats around here are lucky to live past a decade," Keith replied. "And I guess staying up here would help him stay alive a little longer but...his coat looks so fresh, and I can't find any gray in his fur or whiskers."

"That might have to do with mine and my mother's -" Shiro recoiled, tearing his stare from Keith and back to the floor. "I apologize...again. I don't think it's safe to tell you."

"Look, Shiro..." Keith trailed, his heart fluttering. It was strange, bizarre. He had had one of the worst days of his life. He had abandoned his best friend in that forest outside the tower, at the mercy of the castle guards. And he had just met this man, and knew so little about his life. But he felt like he would do anything to obtain his trust, to obtain his affection.

It had to be his eyes. His eyes must have hypnotized Keith, bound him to his soul. It was his only explanation for the yearning that whirled through his stomach and shook his fingers.

"But despite everything my mother has told me - I want to tell you," Shiro admitted, glancing back to Keith. "You didn't intend to, but - but you found me. I've never met anyone else in my life and even if I did...I don't think I'd want to tell them as much as I want to tell you."

Keith parted his lips and sucked in the stale tower air, his body warm. It seemed then, more than anything, Shiro wanted someone to listen to him. Perhaps it had been complete luck that Keith had been the first to find and scale this tower, but he would be a fool to throw this chance away. For the majority of his life, fortune and favor had eluded him. Now, here was a pristine, kind man who could offer him a sliver of something good - something worthwhile. "Well, what do you think is safe to tell me? Something that wouldn't betray your mother's trust?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes and creased his brows in concentration. He took a step backwards, and his gaze traveled from Keith to the walls and its murals. While Kovu moved from his owner's shoulders and jumped onto the floor, Shiro looked past his bookshelf and his cookware, his stare venturing towards the right side of the tower. It wasn't until Shiro's eyes caught onto the mural of the paper lanterns, his lips drawn into a wistful smile, that Keith made the obvious connection.

On top of being gorgeous, Shiro was one hell of an artist.

"On my birthday, every year, these lights shoot from the forest and into the sky," Shiro said, his voice almost at a whisper. "I've always wanted to know where they come from, what they mean. I've asked my mother for as long as I can remember if, just once, she could take me to see them. I've promised her I would never want to leave the tower after that - I'd stay and protect my gift forever, with just her and Kovu for company."

"And...what has she told you?" Keith asked, though he was sure Shiro's answer would prove unpleasant.

Shiro sighed and turned back to Keith, the diamonds in his eyes fading, "It's too dangerous. Even with all my training and learning how to defend myself - she says the people out there would find a way to capture me and lock me away in a dungeon, where my powers would be used for their own selfish gain. When I was younger, I didn't understand, and I would cry and throw myself onto my bed. But now...I've accepted that this is my life. I can't wallow. I just have to make the best of my circumstances. If not for myself, then for my mother and all she has done for me."

Keith processed Shiro's words, glancing over to the painted paper lanterns. This was all he wanted, to see the paper lanterns that mourned the kidnapped prince? The wish seemed simple enough. Why would his mother rebuke him, even after all his training? Shiro was a man (and hardly one Keith would call small or scrawny). He could take care of himself, just like Keith.

Wait, now there's an idea, Keith reflected. He held his chin in-between his fingers, and looked back to Shiro. "Where is your mother right now? She leave you alone often?"

Shiro nodded, "Yes, usually to get food and whatever else we need around the tower. Instead of ropes, she uses my hair to climb the tower."

"Pretty strong hair," Keith chuckled. His words elicited a faint pink to adorn Shiro's cheeks, and his grin widened at the response. "But what's she doing now?"

"For my birthday, I asked her for new paints to work with and a good book. She left this morning, actually."

"Okay - and how long will it take for her to get back?"

"She has to go into a village on the other side of the hills to get the paints. It can take her anywhere from three to four days to return, but I suspect with the book hunting, it'll be four this time around."

"And she left this morning, right?"

"Yes...she did," Shiro reiterated, his lips pursed in confusion. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, your birthday is tomorrow, right?" Keith took a few steps towards the paper lantern mural, his mind buzzing with fortuitous possibility. If he had Shiro in tow with him on his return to the kingdom, he could hit three birds with one stone: drop off the crown to his contact and receive his reward, find Lance to plan their escape out of the kingdom and into Galra territory, and escort Shiro to the see the paper lanterns. Maybe he could even convince Shiro to abandon his life of confined solitude and come with him instead! Of course, befriending Shiro could prove to be a liability - he still didn't know what his "gift" entailed, or what his mother was capable of if someone stole Shiro away.

But, Keith was a thief - a good thief. And stealing risky, priceless treasure was all part of the package.

"Why don't you come with me? To see the lanterns?" Keith finally suggested. "We can travel through the forest together, look around the kingdom, watch the ceremony, and then get you back here with enough time for your mother to never suspect a thing. It's the perfect setup."

"What?" Shiro whipped his hair behind him, his stare incredulous. "Leave the tower, to see the lanterns? With you? Why would you do that?"

"Look, it's the least I could do - I invaded your home, scared your cat, and would definitely be dead if your mother was around," Keith acknowledged, crossing his arms and moving back towards Shiro. "If you don't want to, that's fine. I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again. But...this could be your chance. To know what's out there."

Shiro curled his fingers into fists, his knuckles white. His body was stiff, his stare void of emotion. Keith could only imagine the dilemma Shiro faced. He hadn't expected this opportunity to ever present itself. And if he had, Keith could tell by the way he smiled at those painted lanterns that he had given up on those dreams some time ago.

"If there's people out there - people who know who I am - will you protect me from them?" Shiro asked, his eyes not quite meeting Keith's. "I don't...I don't want my mother to worry."

Keith wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to reach across the room and press his hand into Shiro's shoulder, but he suspected it had to do with the yearning in his eyes. How the diamonds returned and glistened with the possibility, a thousand fantasies pouring into his head. "Sure, Shiro. I promise I'll protect you, no matter what."

Shiro tilted his head to glance at the hand on his shoulder, his mouth formed into an o. He soon smiled, and placed his hand on top of Keith's, squeezing his fingers gently. "Thank you, Akira. You have no idea how much this means to me."

And with Shiro's diamond eyes so close, his hand warm and large against his own, Keith wondered how Shiro's lips would feel pressed against his own, fingers wound tight around his lower back -

A wicked hiss intruded his thoughts, and he felt teeth nip at his ankle. Shiro gasped as Keith threw himself back, almost stumbling into the chair for the second time that afternoon.

"Kovu!" Shiro exclaimed, voice cracked and cheeks flushed. "That wasn't - he wasn't doing anything. Are you okay, Akira?"

"Yeah, yeah - I'm fine. And I promise I had no intention of ki - kicking him in the shins, or you know, whatever bad people do," Keith corrected himself, his face hot once more. Maybe this plan wasn't as perfect as he thought...

Shiro scratched at the back of his head, an embarrassed chuckle accompanying his next words. "But, you know - Kovu and I can take care of ourselves. All that training has to amount to something."

"Yeah, I figured," Keith nodded. "But it's the thought that counts, right? I'm sure I have a few good punches in me."

"Definitely more than a few," Shiro's hand traveled from his head to the back of his neck, his posture relaxed but his body bristling with an excitement, a hope that spilled butterflies into Keith's stomach. "Does your offer extend to Kovu? I'm afraid I wouldn't feel right leaving him behind."

Of course the cat was coming with them. That was another detail he'd forgotten. Keith tried to keep his displeasure at a minimum, and shrugged. "Yeah, that's fine. More the merrier and all that."

"Great!" Shiro's smile broadened as he practically raced towards the stairs, his bare feet quickly reaching the second floor. "Let me pack up a few things, and we can be on our way."

"I'll be waiting," Keith replied and waved up to Shiro, his chest light. The man's giddiness was infectious, it seemed. Not that he could blame him - his life was about to begin.

Kovu stood behind, his yellow eyes never leaving Keith. His stare prevented Keith from looking into his satchel and inspecting the crown. He opted to cross his arms instead, and shot Kovu a challenging glare. He felt the crown's weight against his side however, and sighed in relief. Finally, he had a way to escape this miserable kingdom and find his way back to his family.

And maybe...I have something else too, Keith thought as he looked up towards Shiro's room, wondering just what the man could be packing. Books? Knives? Gourmet cat food?

Keith shook his head, chuckling at himself. Whatever Shiro brought, it didn't matter. So long as the diamonds in his eyes remained, their journey would be fine. Keith was sure of it.

#sheith #shaladinsecretsanta2k17 #vld keith #shirogane takashi #venom writes #my fics #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #this was so hard to write wow #it was all in my brain but putting it down into WORDS was incredible

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