Archive of Our Own ^beta

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A/N - this is mostly fluff and just a bit of angst (for the sake of an interesting backstory). It's just a feel-good fic, so grab a snack and get comfy uwu. (also be prepared for a shitload of unnecessary imagery).

Lance POV:

Everything is clean... I already restocked the beans... but why does it feel like I'm still forgetting something? It's my first day here as a barista and I wanna make a good impression... so what the quiznak am I forgetting? I thought long and hard... Oh my god, my name tag. I heaved a sigh as I spun around, looking to see where I left it. 

"Ah! There you are!" I said to the inanimate object that sat next to the cash register. The name tag was made of a cheap metal that had been painted gold, but it didn't matter. I caressed the engraved letters after adjusting it properly.

"Lance"

Each letter danced under my thumb as I swiftly stroked the sleek piece of metal. Today was going to be a good first day; I could feel it. 

Keith POV:

I missed the fucking bus. 

Waking up in the morning has slowly become the hardest task of the day. I take out my phone and call Shiro, the cracked screen stares at me with displeasure. 

"Can you drop me off at Streamers?" I had never been to Streamers before, but I didn't think I could survive the day without caffeine. I'd usually just have instant coffee cuz it's cheaper, but these days I barely have time in the morning to put my socks on.

I get into Shiro's shitty car. 

"Do I need to come every morning to wake you up?" He sighed. Shiro has always been like a brother to me, but lately, he's been acting more like a single mom with an alcohol addiction.

"Do I need to keep track of all your receipts? You reek of booze and sweat."

We were both going through some shit.

I get off at the front of Streamers and I'm greeted by a shitload of people and streamers. At this point I'm too tired to care—I just need my three shots of espresso. I walk through a wonderous wall of iridescent streamers and see the interior of the full coffee shop. I guess I'm not the only one in need of caffeine this morning.  While waiting in line, I look around and intake the atmosphere. As an architecture and interior design student, I often find myself mindlessly critiquing architecture and interior design. I judge other things to dilute how judgmental I am towards myself. 

The ceiling was pretty high but the overall structure of the room was bland. The colours were just different variations of white with tints of orange in some places. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't anything special. 

I finally got to the front of the line.

Lance POV:

We were pretty full this morning. Pidge and I took turns taking orders and making coffee for a while until I saw him. 

Him. 

He looked like a zombie with a mullet wrapped in leather. His cropped leather jacket and skinny jeans showed off his slim waist. I didn't know why I was so drawn to him, maybe it was because his eyes were sparkly? I could see the razzle-dazzle from all the way across the shop. His eyes reflected the light that bounced off the metallic streamers into my face. It was like he was taunting me. I shook my head to get myself back to reality.

It was my turn at the cash register. 

"I'll have an iced americano with three shots of espresso," the mullet boy said.

I replied with a smile, "Sure! I'm guessing you didn't have a great sleep last night?"

"Hah, yeah, I guess you could say that," he mumbled.

"Name?"

"Keith."

His name was Keith.

A/N - I hope u like it so far... and I hope u like mutual pining and late-night coffee dates~

(I'll try to update this once a week btw)

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A/N - I spent like an hour researching for this chapter even tho I told myself I was just gonna write this for fun:))) Also I will be referring to Pidge with they/them pronouns cuz nonbinary!Pidge au is what I need rn in order to breathe <3

Lance POV:

Of course, I was going to add culinary lavender to his extremely caffeinated iced americano; he looked like he was going through some shit, and lavender is good for stress and insomnia. I quickly grabbed some and added it to the drink, stirring it thoroughly.

Pidge saw me and sighed, "What are you doing?" I froze for a moment, "Which girl are you trying to flirt with this time?"

"I'm not flirting—I'm simply satisfying the needs of a customer~," I said as I finished up the drink, "He looks like a zombie, this'll relax him, look when he comes."

Keith POV:

"Iced Americano for Keith!" a preppy voice shouted.

I put my phone away and went to collect my source of energy for the day.

"Here ya go."

"Thanks," I took the drink from his hand, touching it slightly. His hand was freezing.

"Ah wait—are you allergic to anything?" The brown-haired boy at the counter asked.

"No, why?"

"Well, I added culinary lavender to it but I wasn't sure if you were allergic or not," he responded, flashing a smile. I was caught off guard. "Lavender is good for calming stress and insomnia, I hope it helps in some way," his smile didn't waver.

Does he smile like that at all his customers?

It took me a while to comprehend what he had said to me; once my brain finally understood what he said, I cried a little inside. A person with a perfect face put lavender in my coffee and smiled at me.

That shit doesn't happen every day.

"That's so... nice," I attempted to verbalize after recovering from the sudden Gay Panic™, "Thank you, uh," I looked at his nametag, "Lance."

Lance POV:

He smiled slightly and left.

"Holy quiznaking heck—" I turn to Pidge, "He just said my name."

They didn't look impressed, "Yeah I heard him."

"No you don't understand; I made him blush! He Gay Panicked™ right in front of me!" I said frantically. "My flirting skills—"

Pidge hit me over the head, "I'm gonna stop you there." I rub the spot on my head that was so mercilessly hit, "Get your ass back to work, it's our first day and I don't plan on messing shit up."

Keith POV:

I should go to Streamers more often, I thought to myself.

Next week was finals week and I'm gonna need more of that lavender caffeine.

––––––––––––Time–Skip––––––––––––

It was 10:30 at night when all my classes finished. Shiro wouldn't answer my calls; he's probably busy with work, I thought, I guess I'm walking home today. The streetlights guided me to my rented apartment. As I walked along the assigned path, I saw a different light source. It attracted me, so I strayed from my usual path to explore it.

Streamers was still open.

Mindlessly, I walked into the brightly lit coffee shop and saw him. 

Lance. 

He was sitting on the counter with his phone in hand, legs crossed. Alone.

"Are you still open?"

He fell off the counter, "Frick... yeah we're open."

I help him up and awkwardly apologize, "Shit, sorry."

"Nah it's fine, what do you wanna have?"

"The lavender thing."

Lance POV:

We weren't open. 

I was closing things up after all of the other employees had left, but I guess I forgot to turn over the "Open" sign to "Closed".

But... I couldn't just kick him out.

I got warm milk and crushed some culinary lavender—I wasn't gonna give him caffeine that late at night. The lavender's taming fragrance travelled through my nostrils and exited as I exhaled. 

I hope he likes it.

I handed him the warm cup and said, "You shouldn't have coffee this late at night, this is better for helping you fall asleep."

He thanked me and asked, "Is it okay if stay here to do some work?"

I mean I couldn't just say no.

Fifteen minutes passed and Keith was still working on his computer. I made a plan to tell him we closed at eleven, I couldn't risk having more people come in and order stuff, plus I already clocked out and wasn't going to be paid for the extra time I was spending there. 

I checked the clock.

"Sorry, uh, we close at eleven so if—"

"Shit, sorry, I'll just go now," he immediately packed up his laptop as if he were escaping a fire. 

"Wait, um, you don't need to leave yet if you don't want to," I sat down across from him, "I just wanted to let you know that I was going to turn over the sign; I don't want anyone else to come in and make me do more work." 

"Oh, thank you," he took his laptop back out again while I went to flip over the sign. So much for my plan.

"By the way, what is it you're working on?" I ask.

"It's finals week in a few days and I need to finish up a few projects; I major in architecture."

I take my seat at his table again, "Oof, I heard architecture is tough."

"It's hard as shit, luckily I finished some of my courses early in high school," he took a sip of his drink, "but I still have a shitload of work; I had seven classes today, one of them was like four hours."

"Yeah, remind me to not major in architecture," I joked.

"Hah, yeah."

There was an awkward silence that took over the already bland conversation. I couldn't take it, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and start the most amazingly interesting conversation to ever exist:

"Why did you choose to study architecture?"

"My dad. We had this whole argument about it—cuz like I didn't want to major in architecture—but then he died so I kinda felt like I had to major in it or he'd haunt my ass."

Great job, Lance. Great job.

"But don't... don't feel bad. It happened like four-ish years ago and I've finished my grief and guilt period," he tried to reassure me—I guess my discomfort was visible—"Oh, by the way, this shit is good as fuck," he motioned to the empty cup.

"Well, you can have it for free,"

"Like you're not charging me anything?" He made eye contact with me, "Seriously?"

I was trapped in his pupils, "No cap."

A/N - I planned for this chapter to be longer but like I need to get this out today cuz I originally posted chapter one a week ago on Wattpad and I planned to get this chapter out 2 days ago oop. Anyways I have like zero visibility on Wattpad so I cheated on her with ao3 <<<<3 haha. 

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Keith POV:

I finished my work but I didn't want to leave. The comforting atmosphere that Lance exuded trapped me in my seat. I never tried breaking free, though.

I put my computer away and looked over at Lance, who was wiping down the counter. If you were to merely glance at him, you'd think he was a skinny kid, but when you look closely, he's pretty ripped. The short sleeves of his black shirt hugged his veiny arms. His skin had not a single acne scar or pimple, but there were a few freckles sprinkled across his face. His eyes were a dark-ish blue that looked almost brown from afar, similar to a polluted ocean. 

I stared for too long.

"Like what ya see?"

"Ew." 

As you can see, I'm a very kind and warm-hearted person. 

"Ouch, okay," he laughed, "I guess you prefer subtle flirting."

My sharp tongue developed its own conscience. "What makes you think I'm interested?"

"Were you not just checking me out?" Lance teased with a smile forming on his face. 

It was the same smile. The same one from before, from this morning. 

My face grew warmer.

He let out a soft giggle, "You're so easily flustered."

I fought the urge to crawl under the table and pretend that my existence was a mirage. 

"Alright, I'll stop now," he sighed. Thank God; I wasn't in the mood to be overwhelmed by embarrassment. "Are you finished with your work?"

"Yeah, I think I should go now." I really didn't want to leave yet, but Lance needed to go home; he couldn’t leave the shop with me still in it.

"Sure, do you want me to walk you home? It's dangerous at night," he asked while collecting his things.

"I already look homeless, no one's gonna mug me."

Lance let out a soft chuckle, "Alright then, get home safely."

I gathered all my things and reluctantly left the shop. I'll come back tomorrow , I thought to myself as the same old streetlights guided me through my assigned path, back to my home.

Lance POV:

I parked my bike just outside the apartment and was greeted by a bill in my mailbox. Fricking utilities. 

"We got a water bill," I announced as I walked into the apartment.

Hunk, my roommate who was studying on the couch, sighed heavily and exclaimed, "Ughhhh, why can't our landlord just include utilities in the rent?"

"Mood, but we shouldn't ask him; I don't wanna get on his bad side."

"Yeah... how was work? You came back pretty late, it's almost quarter-to-one,"

I threw my backpack on the floor and flopped onto the couch, "No one says 'quarter-to-one' anymore, just say twelve-forty-five."

"Dude, don't come after me like that. Anyways, you never answered my question." 

"Work was fun, Pidge and I had the early morning shift together, but they refused to join me at night shift." I pretended to cry.

"Oh nooo," Hunk cooed monotonously, "Poor Lancey-Lance was all alone during his night shift."

The sarcasm was ripe this evening.

The familiar image of a flustered mullet zombie flashed into my head. 

I sat up. "Actually, you're wrong."

"About what? I'm sure there's a lot of things I'm wrong about, you need to be more specific."

"I wasn't alone; Keith was there."

Hunk raised an eyebrow at me, "Oh? It's you're first day and you already have someone to flirt with?"

"It's just a customer, I don't even know if he'll come back tomorrow, maybe he only came for coffee that one time and I'll just never see him again."

Hunk turned to me and scoffed, "Dude, do you hear yourself? For a more-than-decent looking guy like you, I wouldn't be surprised if this Keith dude came back tomorrow solely for the purpose of seeing your pretty face."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"You're going off-topic—what's he like?"

"Who?"

"Kim Namjoon from BTS, of course," he rolled his eyes and sighed, "Who else have we been talking about?"

Keith POV:

I had set my alarm for six-thirty this time, hoping that it would prevent me from waking up late again. I wanted to go to Streamers the next morning and I only had around six to seven hours to sleep, so I didn't dawdle and went to bed straight away. 

I dreamt of nothing, as usual, but part of me thought I could smell something. It was similar to the lavender Lance put in my drinks, but there was something else that came with it. If only I were a dog, then I could decipher the smell.

 My alarm snapped me out of my trance. The pleasantly curious aroma was withdrawn, and at that moment, I could only smell dirty clothes and spoiled food, the scent wafted its way throughout my apartment. I was getting tired of the smell. I preferred the dream lavender shit.

I rolled myself out of bed and took a shower. 

Lance POV:

"You lost me at 'mullet'." 

"But it looks good on him ," I said.

Hunk protested, "Nah man, no one looks good with a mullet; that's just a fact." 

"Okay but like it's not like a mullet mullet."

"Then what is it?"

"Okay, you know like the real mullets and how they suck?"

He nodded.

"It's nothing like that."

Hunk snorted and said, "Oh, no need to get too specific."

"Wait, I'm not done. It's like... what's his name... Yeo... Yeosung—"

"Yeosang? From Ateez?" his eyes lit up instantly. "Wait so like Yeosang's silver-blonde gorgeous mullet???"

"Yes! Except it's black."

"Oh my god why didn't you just say that to begin with?" he sighed and said, "Okay, go on."

"His skin is really pale—like vampire level pale—and he's got the most sparkly eyes to ever exist, and the colour is like… like indigo and grey, but also like a galaxy? It’s as if he stole the stars and put them in his eyes," I gushed, "His waist is also really slim, and he gets flustered really easily. Once—"

"Okay, okay, I get it; you're whipped."

"I mean I just met him, I wouldn't say I'm whipped , it's just... slight interest."

 "That's BS," Hunk said as he moved his textbooks to the coffee table, "From the day we became friends up to this point in time, I have never heard you describe someone like that."

"How do I usually describe people?" I asked.

"Blandly. Like 'oh she has brown hair and blue eyes', you never say—” he posed with his hands over his chest and inhaled deeply, “'—’ She’s got the moon in her irises! ’, and I know you're a raging bisexual but I have never seen you with a guy before." 

"Dude, that's your fault."

"Why is that my fault?" Hunk whined.

"You're a Kpop Stan™, your room alone has dozens of beautiful Korean men plastered onto the walls! I have literally seen every single Felix fancam to exist . Because of you, my standards for men are unreasonably high."

"Or was it because of your family?"

Hunk's eyes immediately widened with the realization of what he had said.

The words rang out in my ears, Or was it because of your family? My smile vanished.

He quickly apologized, "Shit, Lance, I'm sorry. It's none of my business, I—"

"I mean, you're not wrong."

Chapter Text

Lance was an immigrant. He arrived in the US from Cuba with his family when he was three, so he didn't remember much about his home country. His family tried their best to fit into the "American Image" when they moved, which meant leaving behind a lot of their culture. America was a computer, Cuba was a phone, while Lance was an iPad charger.

He always seemed to be disconnected.

His siblings had felt the same way, but at least they were able to connect to something.

At least all his siblings were able to attend church without feeling guilty for existing.

At least whenever their parents said something homophobic, they didn't feel as if the insult was directly meant for them.

At least they didn't have to hide a part of themselves in fear of being disowned.

Lance envied his siblings.

Throughout his life, Lance refrained from opening up to his family; it was the only way to protect himself. Eventually, he grew accustomed to keeping things to himself; even with Hunk, he would filter about 80% of his thoughts and emotions.

"I mean, you're not wrong."

"What," Hunk paused for a moment, "Wait does this mean you're actually gonna tell me about your family? Or are we just gonna leave it at that?"

Lance tapped his chin, "Hmm, good question..."

He got up from the couch and headed for his room.

Hunk let out an exasperated sigh. "I should've expected that."

...

Keith was awake before his alarm went off.

Even when his eyes were closed, the only thing he could see was Lance's polluted irises and glistening smile. He couldn't get the image out of his head.

Keith cringed at the mirage his eyes couldn't get rid of. It was weird for him to be thinking about someone like that; he had never felt this way about a person before. Engulfed in unfamiliarity, Keith got up and checked the time: it was five-thirty in the morning, an hour before his alarm would go off.

He decided that he couldn't stay in bed any longer, and went to take a shower. My Chemical Romance blasted on his phone while he let the cold water drown his slender body. He didn't like the ambience of taking a shower. It was too quiet, so he would play loud music to suffocate the silence.

Silence is what attracts thoughts.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and changed the song to something louder.

...

Lance was also awake.

His eyes accumulated moisture as he thought more about what Hunk said.

Or was it because of your family?

Lance never openly flirted with men. He never dated them either. All of his relationships with men were one night stands, and he never spoke to those men again after they went their separate ways. He limited his attraction to men; if anyone in his family knew about his sexuality, he would probably be disowned or something.

At least that's what he thought.

He kept thinking, and the more he thought, the more he regretted.

Maybe I should stop flirting with Keith... before it goes too far...

He parked his bike next to Streamers the next morning. The sky was crowded with grey clouds and the winds blew quite hard, Lance worried about his bike getting knocked over. He tried to situate it into a safer position, but it kept collapsing.

A bystander noticed.

Keith set the bike in an appropriate position that would protect it from the winds.

Even when he was just doing a simple task, Keith's movements were... attractive. They weren't especially fluid, nor were they very special.

But...

His movements held significance.

"Ah, thanks." Lance fidgeted with his fingers, not knowing what he should do.

"No worries, do you wanna go inside?"

"What?"

"Inside..." Keith pointed at the entrance to Streamers.

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry I was just..." He couldn't think of a valid excuse. "I'll just go in now."

His usual suaveness seemed to be absent that morning.

Chapter Text

Keith walked out of Streamers with coffee in his hands and a frown on his face. Something about Lance seemed different to him, but he couldn't figure out what. Was it him not smiling nearly as much as he usually does? Was it him accidentally putting an extra shot of espresso in his drink? Was it was him being awkward when Keith helped him with his bike? Or maybe that was how he usually acted?

After all, Keith had only known him since the morning before.

Rather than focusing on his three-hour morning class, he was overthinking about Lance. Why was he acting differently from yesterday? Did something happen to him? Did he pretend to be enthusiastic around me? No, if that was the case he would've acted enthusiastic this morning. Maybe something really did happen to him?

Did I do something wrong?

Keith's thoughts were loud and plentiful.

Maybe he thinks I'm weird or something.

Did I say something wrong yesterday?

Maybe I stayed too long and annoyed him...

If only he could listen to music during class. That way he could drown out the intrusive thoughts, instead of being drowned by them.

His legs guided him out of the classroom as the rest of the students steadily flowed out, too. They all had places to go, so they dispersed, but Keith didn't seem to have a destination. Unlike when he goes home, there were no streetlights in the school building that he could follow. His next class wasn't until four o'clock.

He called Shiro and asked him to pick him up.

The familiar 1998 Lincoln pulled up next to Keith. He heaved open the door with all his might. It didn't budge. He tried a second time. I hate this fucking car.

Shiro ended up opening the door for him.

"I hate this car."

"They why do you always ask to ride it?" Shiro retorted.

"I'm going to your place until my next class starts."

The driver scoffed, "Did I invite you?"

"Drive, old man."

...

Lance was baking an apple pie when Hunk arrived.

"What's the occasion?" He asked.

"I'm having a dilemma."

"And?"

"And I'm baking."

Hunk let out a sigh, "You can't just bake your problems, Lance."

"I can bake whatever I want," he pouted.

"Lance," Hunk's voice turned solemn, "I'm serious. Talk to me."

Lance set down the cinnamon shaker, his back was still facing Hunk, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Let me listen to you, Lance."

He turned to face Hunk.

"I won't be coming home late anymore."

...

Shiro handed Keith a beer, "What's up?"

"You know how you dropped me off at Streamers yesterday?"

"Yeah."

Keith took a sip of beer and said, "I met this boy. And he kind of... flirted with me, I guess."

Shiro choked on his drink, "He did what? Flirting?! With you?!"

"I know, I was shocked, too."

"Wait, do you like him?" He set down his beer can, "Is my little Keithy-Keith finally feeling attraction towards a real person?"

Keith shook his head, "I shouldn't have talked to you about this—"

"No way. You're telling me everything, right now," He took a sip of his beer, "How do kids say it these days? Spill the tea?"

Keith spilled the tea. All of it.

"So as soon as he started flirting he just stops?" Shiro questioned, "Y'all met each other like a day ago and you're already having communication problems."

"I need advice, not sass."

Shiro took a minute to collect his thoughts based on the information he was given.

"I have a suggestion," he finally said.

"Shoot"

He made an uncharacteristically dramatic gesture and said, "Internalized homophobia."

Shiro was in his late thirties and has had his fair share of relationships. He was dumped and cheated on an excessive amount, giving him a shitload of experience. His latest boyfriend left him because he was moving to Australia. The one before that cheated on him with his coworker. The one before that was abusive and manipulative. Since his last break up, he stayed away from any relationships, he just couldn't take another heartbreak.

"I once had an ex with extremely religious parents," Shiro spoke, "We both liked each other for a while and he asked me out. We dated for six months. On our six-month anniversary, I waited for 3 hours at the restaurant, and he didn't show up. I texted and called him, but he didn't answer, so I thought he just ditched me," he took a sip of his beer, "but it turns out, that night his parents had read our previous texts, and his dad punched him. After that, he never talked to me again, unless he was yelling slurs at me to please his homophobic friends."

Keith couldn't find the right combination of words to express his thoughts in that moment, so he just patted Shiro on the shoulder.

"Maybe this Lance guy is just scared to make a move on you. Maybe he regrets flirting with you because he's scared that people are gonna hate him or something?" Shiro reasons.

"Maybe... but we live in a pretty liberal area."

"So? His family may be homophobic. He might have a homophobic friend." Shiro crushed his beer can and threw it into the recycling bag, "You don't know shit about this guy, don't make assumptions, especially if they're just gonna make you worry more."

Keith sat in silence for a while.

Shiro was right. Keith knew absolutely nothing about Lance.

He disposed of his beer can and demanded, "Drive me to Streamers."

"You have a class in 15 minutes," Shiro reminded him.

"Drive me to Streamers after my class."

Chapter Text

A/N - I'm writing this during my class cuz I really wanna get this chapter out by Sunday lmao I hope it's good enough. cw// panic attacks, self-harm

Keith rushed out of the lecture hall as soon as his watch beeped at seven o'clock—he was on his way to Streamers. He didn't need coffee or anything like that, but he wanted to talk to Lance. Though, he had no idea of what to say to him, the thought of Lance distancing himself away from Keith was anxiety-provoking enough to force him into talk to Lance. Even if he had no idea how he would do it.

He yanked open the door to Shiro's car.

"Chill," Shiro side-eyed the person sitting in his car, "you're just going to a coffee shop."

"Yeah, but this is important."

"You've only known this guy since yesterday morning," Shiro sighed, triggering a shiver to go down Keith's spine, "Yet you're already over-thinking the shit out of this."

"You were the one who said Lance was acting weird around me because of his internalized homophobia."

"I said that because it's a possibility for why he acted differently around you, not because I want you to go solve it for him." Shiro started the car. "It's his shit to deal with, and we don't even know if my hypothesis is accurate."

"I don't want to 'solve' his shit, I just want to make him stop acting weird! What if later he avoids me and I never get to see him again!" Keith yelled with exasperation.

"How do you know if you're the reason he's acting weird? What if something else happened and it affected how he was towards you? What if he just didn't get enough sleep this morning?" Shiro started the car, "You're trying to fix something that hasn't even been broken."

They drove without speaking, and soon later, Keith's thoughts started to occupy the silence:

Shiro's probably right, he probably just didn't sleep well last night. I kept him at Streamers for a long time after all...

But what if he actually has a problem he needs help with?

Would I be so wrong if I just went to check up on him?

Maybe seeing him right now would seem pushy...

What if I come off really weird and he hates me more?

He's probably working right now... why am I even going...

to disturb him?

"We're here," Shiro's words broke the silence.

Keith was hesitant when getting out of the car, contrary to when he first entered it.

The 1998 Lincoln coughed and sputtered before it drove away; then Keith was alone. He looked at the iridescent streamers hanging from the entrance, then at the walls of the place. The whites and oranges stung his eyes.

Eye floaters started to swim across his vision.

What am I even doing?

The beating of his heart quickened while waves of nausea collapsed on him. Recede. Collapse. Recede. Collapse. Recede.

Collapse.

He sped-walked to the alley beside Streamers and let his back hit the wall. He slid down and sat with his face resting on his knees, letting out a shaky sigh.

His spine tingled, it felt as if someone were using it as a xylophone, starting from one end of it and sliding the mallet all the way to the other end.

Maybe it's best if I just left him alone.

If I just didn't bother him.

I just bother him.

He doesn't want someone like me.

A disappointment.

A bother.

A burden.

I'm fucking stupid to think he even liked me in the first place.

His head was filled with thoughts while his eyes filled with tears. Both were on the verge of overflowing. His cold hands hugged his arms as they rested atop his knees. He was a balloon, being pumped up with air, and he had been filled past his regular capacity. The only way for the tension to be relieved was for him to pop.

Lance went to find frozen strawberries in the back. The strawberry refreshers were pretty popular that day. As he went to retrieve the strawberries, he heard something from outside; a soft weeping sound. At first, he shook it off and thought he was imagining it, but then he heard the sound again. Whimpering was accompanied by ragged breaths and sniffles. The sound came from right outside the side door, Lance decided to check it out.

A foot or so away from the doorstep, Lance saw a familiar mullet-headed individual. Keith. He quickly squatted in front of him and noticed he had scratches and bloodstains on his arms. Lance wished Keith had worn a jacket that day. He shook the thought and focused on how to help the trembling boy in front of him.

He patted Keith's head and said, "Hey... you okay?" Of course he wasn't okay, but that's what everyone says to comfort a crying person, right?

It felt a little weird for him to be comforting a guy that was three years older than him...

"What happened?" He asked after not getting a reply. He decided the head patting was getting a little weird and switched to just touching Keith's fingers, which was also kind of weird.

Keith didn't notice Lance was there until he lifted his head from his knees and saw those familiar polluted eyes. His breathing slowed a bit.

"Hey... do you think you can stand?" Lance whispered. He was crouching in front of him, fidgeting with Keith's fingers, which had loosened their grip on his arms. There were scratch marks and smeared blood where his nails had been grasping.

Keith nodded.

With the help of Lance, Keith slowly stood, which was more difficult than expected. He was still shaking and the tears from his eyes had yet to stop flowing. He looked like a mess. Lance quickly fixed Keith's bangs and guided him into the shop. He wasn't supposed to let non-employees in the back, but he hoped that his manager would understand his situation. He pulled up a stool for Keith to sit on and grabbed the strawberries from the fridge. Keith had stopped crying, but Lance had speculated that he was forcing himself to stay composed.

"Do you want something to drink to calm you down?"

Keith didn't answer, but instead asked, "Am I allowed to be in here?"

"Well, technically no, but the here manager is nice, she'll understand."

"Okay... then I guess if it's not a problem for you," he took a moment to stabilize his voice, "I could have a drink."

Lance started making a strawberry refresher.

Seeing the smears of blood on Keith's arms, his tearful eyes, his trembling hands, it made Lance feel nauseous. He wanted to clean away the bloodstains, wash away his tears... hold his hand. He felt guilty. Even though he didn't know what happened to Keith, he felt guilty.

For what?

Maybe for having doubts about his feelings for Keith. Maybe for having feelings for Keith. Maybe for not being able to protect Keith.

Lance marvelled at how he had developed such dangerous emotions for someone he had met just yesterday.

"Here ya go!" Lance said with his usual preppy voice as he handed Keith the drink.

"Thanks."

"You don't have to, but if you want to talk to me about what happened, I'm all ears."

Keith's finger's rubbed at the condensation on the cup. He drew a little heart, then wiped it away.

"It was just... I was just overthinking."

Lance didn't want to question him further, but he couldn't help but think Keith was lying, "Alright, well, does this happen often?"

"I mean, occasionally..." Keith's eyes followed Lance as he grabbed a small notepad and a pen from across the room.

"If anything like that happens again," he scribbled something down on the paper, "Just call me. I'll do my best to comfort you and I'll make you free drinks."

"Oh... why?"

"Because I care. I don't want you to end up alone in an alleyway again."

Keith stared quizzically at the numbers on the paper, as if they were unknown symbols that he was supposed to decipher. Lance was acting... less... weird. Like, not as weird as that morning. Maybe Shiro was right. Lance was just tired. Yeah, he thought to himself, he was just tired. We live in a liberal area anyways, there's no reason for him to have internalized homophobia or anything like that.

"Thanks," Keith said, putting the piece of paper in the pocket of his jeans. "And thanks for the drink."

"No worries," Lance smiled, "Oh wait, gosh, I should help clean up your arms."

Keith cringed when he looked at the smears of blood on his pale skin.

He had only self-harmed once in his life, and he'd rather not think about it. His accidental self-inflicted injuries looked as if a cat had scratched him. What did he do to make this cat so violent? He didn't know, though he should've, because he was the cat. But... not in a furry way.

"There," Lance said as he finished cleaning up Keith's arms.

"Thanks, again. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're supposed to be working."

"It's fine, you don't bother me at all. Feel free to call me anytime something like this happens again, okay?"

a small smile formed on Keith's face, "Okay."