The Drunken Lizard Outpost is a small but welcoming indie pub nestled in the middle of the reconstructed streets of Plaht City. Keith doesn’t remember it ever been there but, then again, it isn’t someplace he would have actively noticed or sought out in the first place.
Flanking him on both sides, his teammates surround him and drown away his thoughts with their enthusiasm. Pidge is eager to go to her first bar despite still technically being underage — ‘ My Earth ID says I’m 19 so suck it! ’ — while Hunk talks to Romelle about the different kinds of appetizers the bar is known for. Lance and Allura seem to linger a few steps away from the group, heads together in quiet conversation as Lance relays to her all there is to know about appropriate bar etiquette.
The pub itself is loud with chatter and crowded with officers, some of the more senior cadets, and even a few aliens. There’s music playing in the background, something Keith doesn’t recognize, but it’s not obnoxious or too loud, so he’s grateful for that. In all, the entire situation is so not his scene but everyone else seems pleased to have received an invitation to Griffin’s ‘Team Bonding Exercise’, so he decides to embrace it. It’s been ages since any of them have attended any social events, much less one that’s not uptight, tense, and with the fate of an alliance squarely resting upon their shoulders, so they’ve definitely earned a break.
They find the MFE pilots by the bar, near the pool tables. Rizavi is the first one to see them and she greets them loudly before bouncing over and soon the rest of the paladins find themselves drawn into conversation with their fellow officers. As much as his inner wallflower screams at him to withdraw at this time, Keith stays put, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket.
To his surprise, Griffin makes the first move. His former rival saunters over, beers in hand, and offers him one, which Keith accepts almost mechanically. He hasn’t had a beer in at least three years, not counting Altean nunvill or any of its equivalents, so Griffin is right. It’s as good a place to start as any. “ Thanks. I need to reach peak intoxication before Lance gets anywhere near that mike. ”
The smile on the other man’s face is so foreign to him. For as long as his memory has served him, Keith can’t recall a single time where Griffin had directed anything other than a scowl or a tight-lipped smile his way. Even when wishing Keith a Happy Birthday a few days prior, he had looked as bothered and uncomfortable as if addressing a mortal enemy so to see him now, easy and untroubled, is pretty jarring.
“ You know, I never would’ve pictured you as the type for this kinda thing. Did Nadia have to twist your arm for it or…? ” he drifts off, awaiting an answer.
He’s actually really looking forward to seeing what McClain pulls out for the karaoke competition. Of the entire Voltron team, he’s the obvious choice to break the ice and set the stage for the rest of them to embarrass themselves (or not) to varying degrees, and it’ll be essential to get him in the rotation early on. Luckily, he doesn’t see the Red Paladin as being particularly shy about showing his plumage for the assorted cadets and bar patrons.
Well, if he emerges from his little conference with Princess Allura anytime soon, that is. James files that observation away for later, amused but unsurprised, and takes a pull of his beer.
The teams have already merged otherwise, and he can already see that Rizavi and Kinkade are attempting to pull a couple people in for a double’s game - and that Leif has perked up, throwing her hat into the ring, too.
“Initially,” he agrees, eyes on his team. One of the nicest things about this bar is that you don’t have to shout to be heard, but you do have to stand close; he’s near enough to brush shoulders with Keith if he leans in, but he’s actively ignoring that. “Before reconstruction, someone had a karaoke machine on base, and people would let loose when they had off time with moonshine and bad music. It just... sort of carried over.”
Before reconstruction has replaced during the occupation in his vocabulary, at least lately; it’s a softer way to remember the time, less upsetting for civilians and family, and he’s been in touch with his own often enough lately that he’s making a conscious effort. That aside, when he’s at The Drunken Lizard, he’s not James Griffin, MFE pilot and team leader; he’s just James, at least for a few hours, so... he can relax enough to enjoy it.
Watching them split into teams, James finally turns back to Keith, a half-smile still on his face. “If you’re going to play pool, get on a team with Leif. It should go without saying, but she’s never lost, and she’ll up your game at least fifty-seven percent through one lesson. Her statistic, so you know it’s accurate,” he adds fondly, taking another pull of his beer, and lifting his free hand to gesture.
“Nadia pregamed, so she’s only going to get rowdier and louder as the night goes on. She’ll ask you to dance at least twice, but she’ll back off if you really don’t want to. Ryan tends to keep a low profile, but be careful when the contest starts, because we all play to win and he’ll surprise you. It’s... good for all of us, to get out like this, and we’re glad you came.”
He’s a little surprised that he is, actually. The way their teams have already effortlessly blended proves that the biggest hold-out was, once again, him, and that shames him a little.
No way to go but up, though.
“I,” he says slowly, turning a half-smirk on Keith, “will be winning the karaoke contest tonight, but I look forward to hearing your effort. Winner takes free drinks next visit, so as you can see, the stakes are incredibly high.”
