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When Shiro first meets Keith, it's in Sydney and Shiro was new in town, having had just relocated.
Moving to a new city, in a new country, in a new portion of the globe for a job was never an easy task, Shiro quickly learned.
All the things to be done, the pressure of being on time, packing everything you own up into a couple of cardboard boxes and maybe a suitcase or two; all the worrying about making sure everything fits and makes it to the house and finds a home in the new residence. It all was more than just a little stressful.
Two weeks in and Shiro was still living out of boxes. The really important things were unpacked of course, but most of his stuff was still boxed up and littering his living room.
Instead of doing what he knows he should - unpacking and decorating, namely - Shiro sets about doing other chores, like arranging for a new doctor, a new dentist, meet his new neighbors, maybe adopt a dog.
First on his list, however, was finding a new coffeehouse.
He spared a moment of silence for his usual shop in his hometown. The workers recognized him on sight and he was friendly, on a first-name basis with all of them. They had his order memorized so when he walked in, he didn’t even need to go to the till - they saw him and instantly added his order to the lineup, billing a tab they made - just for him.
They brewed the coffee beans just right and always made his drink exactly the way he liked it. He was going to miss it dearly.
Of all the things he was going to miss about his hometown, he knew he was going to miss that coffeehouse the most.
The first coffeehouse he visits, it’s the one right in his own neighborhood, on the corner next to the drugstore and the 7/11.
On the outside, it looked the part - with its brick-front façade and brightly colorful yellow flowers hanging in the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows in wooden boxes.
Inside, the floors were all hardwood, stained dark brown. There was an open-brick accent wall and the other walls were painted yellow, as if to match the flowers outside.
What he sees standing behind the till, however, was the immediate selling point. Shiro knows immediately upon seeing him that this was his new coffeeshop.
Behind the till was a young man with long black hair, bright - if not bored - eyes of an indeterminant color, and a pouty frown. He was dressed casually under a bright green apron, stained and fraying with use.
“Hi,” the young man says. It sounds like he’s reading off a script, maybe one that is taped to the register, but the sound of his voice was like music to Shiro’s ears. “Welcome. What can I get you today?”
Shiro smiles at him and prays that it doesn’t look as goofy as it feels. He orders his usual and watches, enraptured, as the young man taps it into the computer. He hands over a few bills when prompted and takes a glance at the boy’s name tag when he was certain he wasn’t paying attention.
Keith , he thinks. What a nice name.
After handing Shiro his change, Keith leaves the register and begins to make his coffee.
Shiro watches as he expertly moves from one machine to the other, grinding the beans, pouring the coffee, adding cream and sugar and vanilla syrup. He drops the change in the mason jar set up for tips and waits patiently for Keith to hand him his cup.
When he does, Shiro thanks him and flashes him his most charming grin. He hopes he didn’t dream up the faint red blush that colors Keith’s cheeks as Shiro turns to leave.
Once out of the shop, Shiro takes a sip of his drink and immediately blanches. He manages to choke down his mouthful for the sake of being polite and not spitting on the sidewalk. As soon as he was sure he was out of sight of the cute barista and the coffeehouse, he drops the cup in a rubbish bin.
He strongly considers finding a different coffeehouse.
Despite the deplorable taste of the first cup, Shiro goes back to the coffeeshop in his neighborhood once more.
He tells himself it’s not so he could see the cute barista again but to give it another chance. He’s not so sure he buys the fib himself, especially when he walks into the shop and sees Keith behind the till again.
Keith’s talking to another customer, a short ginger-haired girl sitting at the bar. She’s twirling back and forth in her seat and suddenly laughs bright and loud.
A small smile appears on Keith’s face and Shiro wonders what was so funny.
Shiro was happy to stand there, watching the pair, but the moment was ruined when Keith noticed him.
“Welcome,” he says, in the same tone of voice as the day before. This time, though, something sparked in his eyes, telling Shiro that he remembers him. “What can I get you today?”
This time, Shiro gapes. He’s not sure if he wants to order his usual or maybe try something new.
Perhaps, the drink from yesterday wasn’t Keith’s forte, maybe there’s another drink he makes well.
Shiro considers his options with a soft hum. He stares at the chalkboard menu suspended just in front of the back wall for a long moment before he decides to just ask.
“What do you recommend?”
Keith answers with a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t drink the stuff.”
That explains it then , Shiro thinks as he does his best to bites back a laugh. No wonder the coffee the man brewed tasted so horrible the day before.
“I recommend the cinnamon macchiato,” the ginger-haired girl suggests. She’s smiling at him so nicely that Shiro agrees and orders one.
When he pays for it, she says, “Good choice.”
Keith hands him his change and Shiro waits for him to turn his back so he could drop the change in the mason jar, but he doesn’t. For a moment, they both stand there awkwardly watching each other until Shiro ultimately pockets the change and shuffles away from the register.
From the different angle, Shiro can see someone else standing behind all the fancy coffee-making machines at the ready. He moves easier, smoother than Keith had and has Shiro’s drink ready so quickly that Shiro absently wonders if it was done partially with magic.
The young man smiles at Shiro and thanks him for his patronage. His smile was toothy and wide, stretching clear from ear to ear. Shiro glances at his badge and says, “Thanks, Lance.”
The young man appears surprised to hear his name and blinks up at Shiro.
“You’re not a regular,” he declares, suddenly sounding defensive. His calculating eyes size him up, scrutinizing every detail. “How do you know my name?”
The girl at the counter snorts. “You’re wearing a name badge, genius.”
Lance looks down at his uniform then back up at Shiro. He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You’re still new here.”
Shiro chuckles despite himself. “I am,” he says. “I just moved to the city a few days ago.”
“Welcome,” Lance responds, suddenly cheerful again. “From where?”
“Wales,” Shiro answers quickly, without missing a beat. “Cardiff area.”
“Cool, cool.” Lance nods a few times, slowly, then glances at Keith and the girl at the bar. “I don’t know where that is,” he admits in a low, stage-whisper that Shiro couldn't tell if he was supposed to be able to hear or not.
“You don’t know where Wales is?” Keith asks, sounding both a little disturbed at the notion and surprised at the possibility. He gives a little scoff and Lance crosses his arms across his chest.
“I know where Wales is!” Lance snaps. “I meant Cardiff .”
“It’s in the south part,” Shiro supplies helpfully. He sips his coffee and was more than a little delighted to discover it was better than yesterday’s. He takes another sip.
“So, do you speak Welsh?” the girl asks. She sounds eager at the prospect, watching him with large, wide eyes. “Oh, and you can call me Pidge.”
“Uhh,” Shiro considers it. He did study quite a bit in school but he didn't remember too much. “I can get by.”
Pidge invites Shiro to sit with her and he does. They chat amiably for a while before she loudly declares she had a class to get to.
She jumps up, off the stool and dusts off her oversized jeans. Keith hands her a to-go cup and she bounds out the door with a promise to be back the following day.
Soon after, Shiro also excuses himself. As he leaves, Keith says goodbye so quietly that Shiro almost doesn't hear it.
He does gear Lance’s teasing ‘ ooooh! ’ and a promise to tell Allura and Hunk. There's a loud bang! just as Shiro shuts the door behind himself followed by a shout from Lance for revenge.
In the following weeks, Shiro visited the coffeehouse on a near-daily basis, be it before work or on weekends, and came to know both Keith and Lance, Pidge and Lance’s boyfriend Hunk to the point he considered them his friends. Even the owner, Allura and her strange but ultimately harmless uncle had become something akin to friends in his book.
Friends who provided him with coffee, mostly, but friends nonetheless.
“What are those flowers outside?”
It was a quiet, rainy Saturday morning and the shop was relatively empty, save for himself, Hunk at the counter with Lance, and maybe a handful of other guests. The air was heavy with the scent of rain; it was the kind of days that Shiro likes the most.
Shiro had decided to brave the stormy weather to pay a visit to the shop for his daily cup of coffee.
At least, that’s what he tells himself. He’s there for the coffee and definitely not to see Keith. And definitely not because the intermittent text messages they now share sometimes became insufficient and he missed Keith.
Its for the coffee , he assures himself as he takes a sip from his cup.
Keith hums an answer from where he’s wiping down the countertop. Shiro watches him but makes a point of looking away every now and then, just so no one in the shop - or Keith - would notice.
“The flowers,” Shiro clarifies. He gestures toward the windows for good measure. “I’ve never seen them before.”
Keith looks up and glances out the window. He hums once more and answers, “Oh. Those are acacias. Allura likes them.”
Shiro makes a noise and nods. He was going to just leave it at that, when Keith speaks up again.
“They represent secret love.” Keith tosses the dish rag in the sink and starts to refill the containers of straws and cardboard cup sleeves. “And if you burn it, it can ward off evil spirits and can be used to make medicine. Maybe not burnt but….”
Shiro nods. He smiles at Keith and is quite delighted when Keith ends up dropping the rag on the floor.
“You know a lot about them,” he says, letting his fond amazement fill his voice. He loves hearing Keith talk about the things he likes and doubts he'd ever tire of it.
Keith shrugs. “I like flowers.”
That makes Shiro smile wider. He hides it behind his cup so Keith doesn’t see it.
“What’s your favorite flower?”
Keith’s eyebrows knit as he thinks about it. His lips fall into a soft frown, his forehead creases with thought.
Eventually, he answers softly, “I like forget-me-nots.”
“Why?”
“They’re beautiful,” he says first. He pauses to think on it a little more and Shiro’s heart tugs at the cute image it all makes. “They represent true love. And fidelity, loyalty to your soulmate. A connection that lasts throughout all time.”
That makes Shiro hum. He cocks his head to one side and asks, “Are you a romantic, Keith?”
Keith flounders in response. His cheeks turn a rosy hue, right up to the tips of his ears. “W-what?” he looks up at Shiro, surprised. “... No !”
“Yes, he is,” a new voice interjects and Shiro turns to see Pidge and Allura walk through the front door. Pidge collapses her pink polka-dotted umbrella, shakes off the rain, and hands it over to Allura to take care of.
Keith’s eyes narrow dangerously and Shiro wonders what Pidge knows. He grins at her, considering ways to ask without incurring Keith’s wrath.
“Pidge.” Keith all but growls at her. “I’m warning you.”
She winks at Shiro and playfully demands coffee from Keith.
“Hot,” she specifies. “Because it’s raining.”
“Pidge, it’s hot outside .”
Pidge dismisses Keith’s light admonishment with a wave of her hand. With a resigned exhale, Keith punches in her order as Pidge joins Shiro at his table.
Shiro asks about her classes and she tells him, in full detail and not bothering to pause for breath until Lance serves her her coffee.
“Air, Pidge,” Lance reminds her with a laugh before turning gracefully on his heel and returning to his post.
“So, you guys are talking about flowers?” Pidge asks eventually, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them.
“Shiro was just asking about the flowers outside,” Keith answers quickly from across the room, before Shiro could form a response himself. “Its nothing.”
Pidge grins at Shiro and waggles her eyebrows. It makes him laugh. “It doesn't sound like ‘nothing’.”
Glancing at Keith, Shiro could see his blush had only deepened since he last saw it, despite him being turned away from them.
Shiro huffs another little laugh, just to himself, as he twirls his paper cup in his hand. Cute , he thinks. Very cute .
Much to Shiro's glee, his friendship with Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Allura only grew stronger the longer he was living there.
It quickly got to the point that he was making plans with them outside the coffeehouse, doing all the things friends did. Like, going to the mall or the movie theater, going sightseeing, or catching dinner.
Finally, the city was starting to feel like home.
“What are you thinking about?”
Shiro turns his head a little, toward the sound of the voice but he neither opens his eyes or responds.
He could feel Keith shift in the grass beside him. Still, he doesn't open his eyes.
The sun was warm on his face but the grass was cool against his skin and the person who had quickly become his favorite in the whole city was keeping him company and Shiro was going to savor every minute of it.
Keith tugs at his hair. “I asked you a question old man,” he growls with no venom. Shiro laughs at the insult that's grown to be a fond nickname. “What are you thinking about?”
Shiro opens his eyes to look over at Keith.
Like himself, Keith was stretched out on his side in the grass. He had his body positioned so he could look at Shiro, his head propped up on his elbow.
Shiro smiles. It's the same smile he wore whenever he saw or even thought about Keith.
For now, he hopes that Keith can't read the smile, doesn't know what it means like he knows the meaning of every flower he sees.
What it means is a secret, one that he wants to keep for himself for a little while longer.
Shiro glances beside them and sees the stalks of yellow acacia Keith cut as a gift for him. He takes one and twirls it between his fingers, watching how the buds dance in the breeze.
Keith watches too.
“Nothing,” Shiro finally answers. He takes the flower and tucks it behind Keith's ear.
He leans back a tad to assess his handiwork. Keith adjusts the flower but leaves it in his hair. He fixes Shiro with a confused look to with Shiro responds with a bright grin and says,
“Nothing at all.”