Chapter Text
If there was anything Keith had expected to get out of his shift, it definitely wasn't some random guy's number.
Rewind to an hour ago, when Keith had walked into work late to the smell of coffee and exasperated comments from his boss. Apart from that, nothing had been out of the ordinary. Mostly the usual customers, with a few new faces from people obviously from out of town. Keith guessed they were lost. Unless you knew where it was and were deliberately aiming for it, Lion Coffee was pretty hard to find: tucked away at the end of an alley of mostly preppy hipster shops, selling old records and clothes from the seventies nobody in their right minds would buy. Unless you were either forty-three and reminiscent of your childhood, or sixteen and shopping for Coachella. Keith loved it.
Nobody from university to bother him, nobody wanting to make a ruckus, nobody wanting to raise their voices too high.
Until he walked in.
Right away he was out of place. His blue hoodie stuck out garishly against the browns and beiges of the coffee shop, his untied laced trailing on the ground behind him. He looked as if he'd rolled out of bed five minutes beforehand and slept in his whole getup. His hair stuck up in different directions and the bags under his eyes were a prominent sign of not sleeping until 4am.
He lazily strolled over to the menu board on the wall next to the counter, slouching as he assessed which drink he wanted. Keith was so fixated on him that he didn't notice his boss slink out from the back room and stop behind him.
"Keith, this is the third time this week you've shown up late to work. Is everything alright?"
Keith shook himself out of his trance. "I- uh- yeah, Coran, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Just a bit hectic with uni and stuff. Work overload and all that."
Coran shook his head and tutted. "The education system these days, I'm telling you! It's disgraceful! When I was your ag-"
"Can I get a caramel macchiato? With soy milk?" The guy hesitated as he ordered, as if aware he stuck out like a sore thumb. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean if it's not too much trouble."
Keith started writing up his order as Coran butt in.
"Hey, I haven't seen you around before, funky jacket dude. Tell me, what piqued your interest and drew you into our establishment?"
Funky Jacket Dude stared back in bewilderment. Keith had to empathise with him to an extent, the poor guy was evidently still in the stages of waking up and was already getting bombarded with questions.
"The, um, sign? Premise of coffee? Sorry for the boring answer but, uh, mainly just needed coffee."
"You look it, son. All nighter? Girlfriend break your heart? Some epic party I wasn't invited to?"
He smiled weakly at that remark. "Coursework."
Keith handed him his macchiato, receiving a nod as a form of thanks.
"Ah, schoolwork! Same struggle as this chap here!" Coran put his arm around Keith, who froze upon contact. "Tell you what, my boy, grades are absolutely nothing. Nothing wrong with being your own boss! Did me well!"
The boy in the jacket smiled politely. "I'll keep that in mind."
Keith watched him as he turned and sat at a table, digging out his phone and listlessly scrolling through a newsfeed. He jumped as Coran clapped him on the shoulder.
"Why don't you go and sit with him, son? I don't want him falling asleep at my table. And if I'm honest, he looks like he needs a companion"
Keith shrugged. "It's near enough my break anyway."
"Hey, caramel macchiato," was the first thing he said as he reached the table Funky Jacket Guy was sat at. It took a moment for the guy to register that Keith was there, eyes glazed over.
"Did I leave something on the counter?"
"Nah, boss just said you looked like you were about to drop off, so I'm here to keep you awake, I guess."
Caramel Macchiato, who had gone through several mental nicknames at this point, gestured for Keith to sit with him, putting down his phone.
"Sorry. Uni's been a pain in the ass recently, I was up until seven crying over one essay. I'm thriving on an hour and a half of sleep and a multipack of Red Bull."
Keith nodded, pulling his chair in. "I feel you. I've got three quizzes due within the next few days that I haven't done because I've been on Wikipedia or some shit looking up the exact opposite of what I should be. Cryptids, usually."
He snorted. "Cryptids, huh?"
"Oh, don't tell me you don't believe in them. There's so much evidence to support their existence that you'd be an idiot not to."
"Guess I'm an idiot then."
"Oh come on, you're not serious. Not even Bigfoot?"
"Some guy in a fursuit roleplaying in the woods."
"You think Bigfoot is a furry roleplayer."
"That is exactly what I think."
They passed light banter back and forth for a bit, until the stranger in the blue jacket caught sight of the time.
"Shit, I'm supposed to be meeting a friend for a study meeting in like, ten minutes. And they live twenty minutes away. So I need to get going, like, ten minutes ago."
Keith got up from his chair and started to collect the pile of plates and cups they'd somehow acquired from multiple drinks they must've ordered at some point, though he didn't remember.
"It was really nice meeting you, uh-" The guy squinted at Keith's name badge. "Keith? I've been talking to a guy called Keith this whole time? I didn't know Keith was still a fashionable baby name after like, 1978."
"Yeah, yeah, well, gives me an excuse to be working here. And you are?"
"Lance. Like the sword. Like the thing ten times cooler than the name Keith."
"You do realise I have the authority to literally ban you from this place?"
"It was lovely meeting you, person with the nicest name I have ever heard."
A bell rang on the door upon Lance's exit, and Keith continued to clean up the remnants of the mysterious horde of cups and saucers. Before he almost tossed a tea-stained napkin into the trash, a flash of blue pen caught his eye.
Keith left his shift that day with a phone number on a dirty napkin and the face of a friendly stranger still fresh in his mind.