Chapter 4: Happy New Year

31st December

Shiro

I swirl the contents of my glass as I observe the party raging around me. A friend of Katie’s invited her, and she brought Matt and me along, me kicking and screaming when I would have been happy to curl up on the couch and watch Dick Clark. Boring. Predictable. Fitting me. Instead, here I am in this sprawling mansion with expansive windows complemented by metal accents. The sleek design, the large pool, everything here screams money, but I’m not in the right state of mind to be impressed by architecture. 

Everyone is chatting or dancing, and plenty of people have drinks in their hands. They all look so damn excited about the new year that’s about to drop, but I’m immune to the excitement buzzing through the air tonight, which is probably related to my dark-haired coworker and the note he left on my desk a couple of days after he sneaked out of my bedroom without a word. 

Worried out of my mind, I called him when I discovered he had fled the house, but he didn’t even pick up the phone. He responded with a text, apologizing that he went home, which ended our interaction. For the last school week of the year, he turned invisible, completely icing me. When I arrived at my office on the last day before the holidays, a Christmas present was sitting on my desk with a note attached to it. 

Dear Shiro, 

I can’t express how sorry I am for my behavior at the Christmas party. I’d say it was an outlier, but you’re familiar with me enough to recognize that claim for the bald-faced lie it is. Please know I’d have never hit on you like that if I had been sober, and accept my sincere apology. I put in a request with Allura to switch my office with your friend Matt, so starting the New Year, you should have an office buddy with better manners.

PS. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I hope it’s true and the present can compensate for the damage I caused.

Keith. 

My stomach squirmed unpleasantly when I reached the passage about him switching offices. That was the last thing I wanted. The morning after the party, I intended to talk to him, make sure he was okay, and ask him on a date, but finding the bed where I left him empty squashed all my hopes and threw them in the garbage. 

Message received over and over. Keith felt mortified about his behavior. Of course, he only hit on me under the influence of copious amounts of booze. After all, what should he find attractive about a middle-aged high school teacher whose life is as exciting as pea soup? This isn’t a Hallmark movie; a series of misunderstandings is just bad luck, not a way to a happy ending. No, our version of happily ever after is becoming two awkward coworkers who nod at each other in the hallways and who don’t injure each other.

I guess the only reminder of Keith barging into my life in a swirl of color will be the gift he gave me. Once I opened the package, I found —

“So this is where you’ve been hiding. I’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

Matt has discovered my refuge in the corner and sits next to me, giving me a friendly clap on the shoulder. 

“Why are you here all alone? Please don’t tell me you’re still moping about Keith.” 

“Matt, you’re my friend, right?” 

“Sure, buddy.”

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

Matt looks at me, his eyes roaming over my face as if checking for signs of a mental breakdown.

“How do you mean?” he asks.

“Why am I single? Is there something inherently wrong with me? Am I too boring? Predictable? Not fun enough?”

“Where is this coming from, Shiro?” 

I drag a hand through my hair, but carefully not to mess up the style. 

“Ah, nowhere. New year’s blues, I guess.”

“Hey. You’re fun. Not when you’re sulking, though.”

“I don’t sulk. Maybe a little. I had a plan, you know? Used to think that I’d be married by now. Settled. Instead, I have a string of exes and an empty house. Everyone cheats on me or wants an open relationship or…” would rather break his leg by escaping out the window than talk to me. 

“Thirty-five isn’t that old.”

“In gay years, that’s ancient. I’m gayncient.” 

“Not a word. Trust your friendly neighborhood English teacher. You do have some sort of a weirdo magnet. Keith —”

“Is not a weirdo.” 

“Okay. He’s not interested either, though, which might be for the best. Dude’s a handful. You dodged a bullet there, so stop brooding and come meet Katie’s friends. I promise to help you pick up hot guys afterward.” Matt pumps his eyebrows suggestively, drawing a chuckle from me.

“Fine,” I say, drain my glass and push to my feet. “How does Pidgeon know these people, anyway?” 

“Apparently, Hunk’s her old college buddy, and now they work together at NASA. This place belongs to his friend, some sort of start-up gazillionaire or something.” 

Points to my friend for knowing how to gain my attention. I don’t care about money, but the magical N acronym makes my ears perk up. Despite my dreams of becoming an astronaut dying a painful death, I continue to enjoy studying and discussing anything space related.

We cross the busy room, brushing past people in various stages of drunkenness and earning more than one scowl as we make our way toward Katie, who’s sitting on a couch in deep conversation with a tall Samoan guy who I assume is Hunk. Another young man whose name I don’t know sits sprawled beside them, head tipped back and staring at the ceiling. Can’t say if he’s drunk, stoned, or bored. Possibly all three. 

“Hey, Matty.” Katie spots us coming and waves at us. “Found our wayward Shiro?” 

“He was drinking alone in a corner, like a sad protagonist in a rom-com.” 

“I wasn’t sad.”

“You were moping.”

The sleepy guy’s head jerks up. He elbows Hunk, and they stare at me like a pack of jackals before ambushing their prey.

“Hunk, you already know Matt, and that’s his friend, Shiro. Matt, Shiro, this is Hunk and Lance. Lance invited us here. He owns the house.”

“Wow. You must be doing well.” 

“Yeah, I developed an app for trading cryptocurrencies. Shiro isn’t a common name, is it?” 

“I suppose not. Not here, anyway. It’s a nickname, really, but no one ever calls me Takashi.” 

“Yeah, I completely forgot that’s your real name.” Matt laughs, and we settle down next to Katie. Hunk and Lance’s eyes never waver from me, and their scrutiny becomes grating. After a while, Hunk nods and turns to Lance.

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“Do you think he knows?” Lance asks.

“See what? And who’s supposed to know?”

“I’d better go find him and tell him.” 

“What’s going on, guys?” Katie asks, but someone approaches our group from behind and starts talking, cutting off Lance’s chance to respond. 

“Lance, the bartender you hired is freaking awesome. Did you know she can make Corpse Reviver? I haven’t had that since we gate-crashed the party at the Hilton.” 

The voice. I know the voice because it’s been stuck in my head for the past month, ever since his owner ran straight into me at that coffee place. I turn in my seat, and sure enough, Keith stands in front of me, a tray with drinks balanced in his hand, staring at me with wide eyes. When the glasses start shaking, I clamber up to snatch the tray away before everything comes crashing to the floor. 

“Yep, you’ve definitely met Keith before,” Lance quips, but I ignore him. 

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks.

“Matt dragged me along,” I say, once again not paying any attention to Matt’s indignant ‘hey!’ “I had no idea your friends were throwing the party.” 

“Yeah, um. Yeah. Sorry, gotta go.”

No. I can’t believe he’s running away again when I only need a second to talk. Usually, I don’t put much stock into astrology, auras, and fated meetings, but this once, I’m willing to make an exception and consider running into Keith a sign from the universe. 

“Keith, wait!” I fumble after him, but he spins on his heel and disappears into the crowd. Great. Should I follow? And then what, when he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to talk? The clumsiness or the accidents he causes don’t bother me, but constantly chasing someone grows tiresome fast. Not to mention creepy, borderline stalker-like, and pathetic. The determination to convince him to talk fades, and I slump back onto the couch.

Hunk pats my arm.

“Listen, Shiro, you seem like a decent man, so we should tell you one thing.”

“Yeah,” Lance chimes in. “Mullet is an idiot.” 

“Mullet?”

“Well, not now. He grew out of it. But when we were younger… Not important. The important thing is, Keith likes you. Really, really likes you. He hasn’t shut up about you since he met you, and he’s been beating himself up the entire week over the party because he’s, well, Hunk, how do you say ‘an utter disaster sprinkled with a copious amount of moron’ but politely?”

Hunk leans over and thumps Lance on the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Lance wants to say that Keith gets in his way a lot, but he’s a good dude. A dolt with self-esteem issues, sure. A human embodiment of entropy, yes. But is he a danger to himself and others? Also, yes.” 

“He sounds swell,” Matt says, and Hunk spears him with a look before continuing.

“But more importantly, he has the biggest heart of all the people I know.”

“Yeah, plus he thinks you’re like way too good for him.” 

My heart leaps into my throat, where it flutters like a trapped bird. “That’s stupid. It’s the other way around.”

Hunk and Lance share one of the looks that can convey multitudes, a look only lifelong friends or married couples have properly mastered.

“You should tell him that,” Lance says.

“Yeah, you have our official blessing. But if you break his heart…” Hunk’s eyes roam over me, linger a beat or two on my pecs, move to my biceps, and slide away. 

“Ugh, just don’t break his heart, okay?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, getting to my feet again.

“Shiro, have you thought this through?” Matt asks quietly. “You work together, and the guy’s a wreck.” 

“He’s a little chaotic,” I admit, “but who knows? A bit of chaos might be exactly what my life needs. It’s become too predictable.”

“Predictability is not a bad thing. Are you certain about this?” Matt’s not on board, but I don’t care. Even though he’s my closest friend, the only decision that matters when it comes to my heart is mine. And this is about my heart beyond any doubt. Keith stole it without even trying, using only shy smiles and scorching kisses. Does it make sense? Perhaps not, but not everything in life is as ordered and logical as the subjects I teach. Sometimes, life is hectic and frenzied and wonderful.

“Yes. I am.”

“That’s right. Go get him, Shiro!” Lance says, waving a bottle he found god knows here around like a lunatic, but his support warms a cold spot in my chest.

“Okay, I’m going.” 

A round of hoots and cheers accompanies my statement, but it’s easier said than done. After I’ve scoured the entire house, looked into every nook and cranny, checked the kitchen, and even ducked into the bathroom to be sure, I declare failure. Keith’s nowhere to be found. Did he slip under my radar and leave the building? It would fit his MO, but I want to believe that this time, he stuck around. 

As midnight draws near, the noise rises in volume, washing over me in waves, and the air grows more stifling as new guests stream in and add to the racket while stealing more oxygen. To clear my head for a beat, I head to the balcony. The platform and the railings are constructed entirely out of glass, so when I step on it, I feel like I’m flying over the city that glitters with thousands of lights down below. Mesmerized by the sight, I miss that someone else is enjoying the view here until they clear their throat.

“Came for a breath of fresh air as well?” Keith peels off the railing he is leaning against and moves closer.

“Stepping out for a moment seemed like a good idea.” 

“I’m gonna leave you to it.” He makes a motion as if he wants to bolt, but since I know what to expect, I prevent the attempt by grabbing his elbow and doing what I’ve wanted to do since the moment he spilled his coffee all over me: I wrap him close, curl my body around his wiry form, and tuck my chin in the crook of his neck.

“No. Stay, please. I was looking for you, actually.” 

Keith freezes in my arms for a moment, his whole body stock-still and motionless as the proverbial deer in the headlights. Even my breath catches in my throat, stuck between an inhale and exhale, waiting for how the situation unravels. This is it. Keith’s going to vanish again. He’s going to slip from my embrace, leaving me here to watch the ball drop alone and heartbroken. 

But this is Keith, so of course, he does the opposite of what I expect. His body turns liquid, and with a hitch in his breath, he sinks into me. His arms band around my chest and hold onto me for dear life.

“Why?”

“I wanted to thank you for my present. You never gave me a chance.”

“It was more of an apology than a present,” he says, face buried in my pecs.

“Regardless. It was beautiful.” When I tore the package open, I discovered a painting of the Hourglass Nebula, painted in colors so vivid they almost leaped off the canvas.

“Your collection was missing that one, and I always liked it. The colors, the random shape in the middle that looks like an eye, the infinity symbol.”

“It’s my favorite nebula.” 

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“Dork. Only a dork can have a favorite nebula.” I can feel the shape of his smile rather than see it, and the intimacy of it steals my breath away. “If it’s your favorite, why don’t you already have it?”

With my arms draped around his waist, I shrug, and he uses the opportunity to nestle deeper into me, pressing his face into my pecs as he sighs contentedly.

“I’m not sure. If I say I was waiting for someone to bring me the missing piece, will it sound too cheesy?”

“Yeah, that’s awful, Shiro. So pretentious. Don’t say that.” His body trembles under me, and it takes me a moment to realize Keith’s laughing. I press a kiss to his hair and use the chance to inhale his lavender shampoo.

“Are you going to pull a runner again? Or can we finally talk?”

“Can’t pull a runner with the Hulk’s paws on me.”

“So I’m the Hulk now? Interesting. Someone told me that I was The Rock’s child, so now I’m confused.” 

“God,” Keith groans.

“Not sure if I’m that.” 

Keith barks out a laugh but grows more serious right after. 

“Could you delete that entire conversation from your brain forever? Please. I’m so embarrassed about the whole thing. Besides, I was hammered. Romelle’s eggnog can moonlight as a paint remover. My head kept pounding for two whole days afterward.” 

“But it was hilarious. The conversation, not the head pounding.” 

“Hilarious? You mean humiliating. Even according to my standards, but I only acted that way because… because…” 

He lifts his head, eyes riveted to mine. An echo of voices from the house drifts past us. The night sky is indigo velvet threaded with stars. As we’re nearing midnight, fireworks go off randomly in the distance. They splash across the sky in a wild array of colors, sear our retinas, and then fade away, leaving nothing but a memory behind.

“Because?” I prompt.

“Because I’ve been a smitten idiot since we met at the coffee place.” 

“That’s a relief.”

“How come?”

“Because I’ve been feeling the same way.”

“You do? Why?” Keith sounds so incredulous I can’t help but laugh.

“Who knows? There’s no simple explanation; no x equals certain feelings. It’s… you remind me of these fireworks.”

He turns his head to look me in the eye, but his arms never move. If anything, he pushes even closer to me as if trying to meld our bodies into one. An idea I support one hundred percent, although I’d prefer to be somewhere warmer than on the freezing balcony if that’s where the night’s headed.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re this beautiful, chaotic blob of color that makes the lives of everyone around richer and more exciting.” 

“Don’t forget more dangerous. And messier. Did you ever clean up after the fireworks? Ugh, there’s a lot of crap left when the show’s over.” 

“The mess is a small price to pay for the beauty.” 

I withdraw one of my hands from his body to slide it over his face. My thumb strokes over the soft complexion of his cheek, catching on the raised bump of his incoming stubble. Grateful he’s no longer running away, I savor each touch, each sensation. Keith’s eyes are wide and mirror the starry skies and light exploding in faster and faster succession above us. Midnight must be almost here.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“What if it’s not your decision? My life’s been getting sad and predictable before I met you. Perhaps a bit of chaos might inject some excitement into it. And maybe yours could use a little stability? Someone to catch you when you stumble. Someone to contain that crazy energy of yours when the world gets too overwhelming and you’re about to go off.” 

Keith stays quiet, lips set in a thin line. Not protesting, but not agreeing either. How can I make him understand? My thumb traces over his lips, and his breath catches. Everything isn’t lost, then. A countdown erupts from the house. The last seconds of the year are ticking away.

“Five.”

“You know, I make a resolution every year.”

“Four.”

“Yeah?”

“Three.”

“Yes.”

“Two.”

“What’s this year’s resolution?”

“One.” 

“To be brave.” 

A pandemonium of color and sound breaks out around us, but it’s background noise that barely registers. As the new year begins, my hand slips under Keith’s jaw, tilting his chin up to make it easy for me to claim his mouth. 

Finally. I’m finally kissing Keith as I wanted from the beginning, without excuses, without a mistletoe or drunken haze, and he’s kissing me back with all the fierceness packed in his wiry body, with the same passion that’s too wild to keep in check and that spills out of him sometimes onto canvases, sometimes as a series of accidents. 

His tongue sweeps over my lips and shamelessly pushes past them to explore my mouth in long, confident strokes. Keith kisses me as though this is his last kiss on Earth, and I respond to his every nip, every stuttered breath, every flick, and every needy moan. The fireworks going off around us are a pale reflection of the galaxies whirling before my eyes. 

Heat unfurls in my stomach and overrides my brain. I grab Keith’s hands and walk us back toward a wall, crowding him into it with lips sealed over his.

“Mine. You’re mine.” The words slip out between gasps of breath as I kiss his lips, his throat, my hands ducking under his clothes to bite into wiry muscles.

“Mine to cherish. Mine to protect.” 

“Yes. Yours, Shiro.” Keith’s teeth into my neck. Thoughts disappear. There are only feelings, only sensations, only a painful need to claim him. Mark him. Our bodies grind into each other while we kiss endlessly.

“What does your resolution say about spending the night together? Does it fall under being brave?” Keith’s question is thready from the same desire that’s breaking me apart.

“Mmm, let me think.” I kiss the spot under his jaw, then move to his neck.

“Shiro.”

I lick a path along the straining tendon in his throat, enjoying its vibration when Keith gives a drawn-out moan.

“It counts, yes.” 

“Thank god. Let’s get out of here.” 

“I might regret this question, but won’t your friends miss you? They seem to really care about you.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this? Hunk and Lance can manage. I’ll have to send them a message, though. Otherwise, they’ll think I’m dead in a ditch somewhere.”

He takes out his phone, but instead of typing, he watches the device, drawing patterns with his thumb over the display.

“What is it, baby?”

“Are you sure about this? Us? We work together. This could get weird. And I can’t help feeling like I’m getting the better part of the deal while you’re getting robbed.”

“Funny. I think it’s the other way around.”

“Really?” 

A genuine smile splits Keith’s face wide open. 

“Really. Less talking, more typing,” I say and tug him closer because I can. Because his body slots into mine perfectly. Because even an inch of distance is too far.

Keith’s fingers fly over his phone when someone steps onto the balcony. 

“Found them,” Lance calls back to the house, startling both of us. Even though we’re standing still, Keith manages to lurch, but my arm around his waist steadies him.

“I was about to message you,” Keith says.

“Did you guys make up?” 

“You could say that, yeah.” 

“Okay, so let’s get your asses back inside to have a toast with us.”

“Actually, we’re gonna take off,” Keith says.

“Yeah, no, Mullet. You’re going to toast the freaking new year with us, and then we’ll embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend by sharing way too many stories about your accidents.”

“Boyfriend?” I whisper in Keith’s ear so that Lance doesn’t hear me.

“We don’t have to—don’t pay any attention to him.”

“Okay. But for the record, I like it.” 

The delicious little whimper he makes suggests he’s not against the label either.

“Did you know,” Lance turns to me, “that my boy Keith here once drank the entire jar of the water used for cleaning brushes and had to have his stomach pumped? I mean, who doesn’t stop after one gulp? How do you not notice the taste?”

“I was in the zone. Plus, I was thirsty.” 

A chuckle sneaks past my lips.

“Traitor,” Keith says with the most adorable pout.

I ghost a kiss over his lips. 

“Could’ve happened to anyone, sweetheart, I’m sure.” 

“Not sure how I feel about Mullet being called ‘sweetheart,’” Lance grumbles.

“Shut up. I’m happy.”

“Okay, then, I guess.” Lance rolls his eyes. 

“What do you think, Shiro? Can you handle these idiots for a couple more minutes?” 

“Sure. Only for a couple of minutes, though.” I trace my tongue over his ear. “Then I have plans for us,” I whisper before pulling back. Keith shivers and nods, his ability to speak shot to dust for the moment. In truth, I’m excited about getting to know his friends. I have a hunch they will be an important part of our lives.

“Guys. You coming or what?” Lance asks, losing patience.

“Go ahead,” Keith waves a hand for him to move, and we’re right behind him. When we enter the room, Keith stumbles over a forgotten shoe, but I grab his hand and hold him upright before he falls. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Starting to see the benefits of keeping you around.” 

“Do I get a reward?” 

His eyes gleam under the dim lights of the fading party. Without warning, he launches himself at me, wraps his legs around my waist, and grabs my face in both hands to claim my mouth in a searing kiss, regardless of who might watch or what they might think. The whole thing happens so fast I barely have time to prop his ass with my hands so he wouldn’t fall, but I’m sure of one thing. With Keith, my life will never be boring. 

Santa came through, albeit a little late, and we got our happy ending after all. Or a happy beginning, which is even better.

Merry Christmas, and I’m certain we’ll have a happy new year. Together.

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