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The past week had been rather draining to say the least. Shiro’s college classes, while usually bearable and easy enough to follow, had become unnecessarily convoluted. His mind felt packed, yet every lesson was clouded by a thick fog. And there would probably be a test in one of his classes at the end of the week. Great. Christ, just turn him into Kermit the Frog and throw him off a building. In the midst of his internal college-themed soap opera, Matt and Lance find Shiro zombie-shuffling through the halls and take it upon themselves to rejuvenate the poor lad. Whether or not he’d be grateful for their interference was yet to be determined.
“What’s ‘The Brews Of Meowmora’ and why have I never heard of it?” he asks after they drag him to the student lounge and put some caffeine in his system. Granted, his sitting posture is terrible and the world still looks unusually bleak and dull, but at least he’s speaking, resting his head on his propped elbow rather than grunting unhappily face down on the table.
“It’s a new place in town that lets customers chill with animals.” Matt explains, pulling up some pictures from Yelp. Shiro and Lance glance over Matt’s shoulder. He hums interestedly while Lance coos at the adorable photos of content cats and delighted dogs.
“So it’s like an animal café?”
“Yup!” Matt says, “I like going there when I’m stressed.”
“Again, why haven’t I heard of this?” Sure, he tended to be out of the social loop whenever he needed to focus on his studies or personal projects, but surely he would’ve heard someone gush about it a some point. Then again, he had improved on his ability to block out the outside world even when it pertained to an interest of his.
Matt rolls his eyes. “You rarely venture anywhere out of campus. Plus, the few times I’ve been able to hang with you when you’re not all ‘Elmo in the snow as Hello Darkness My Old Friend plays’, you’re catching up on memes or scrolling through your feed of hot guys. Especially that one guy in particular. ‘CherryBoM’, if I remember correctly.” He quirks an eyebrow, judging Shiro with a knowing smugness. Shiro glares at Matt, ignoring the blush he felt rising on his cheeks.
Damn him for being a sneaky son-of-a-Holt. No disrespect to Colleen or Sam, Shiro loves them to Kerberos and back, but the powerful couple had raised little terrors known as Matt and Pidge. Again, loved them all like his own family, but the devious chaotic energy paired with superb intelligence made for a dangerous combination;he could only hold his ground against them for so long.
Which of course meant that unfortunately for Shiro, both Holts had already acquired an arsenal of embarrassing stories and personal information over the years to pull out at any given moment, should it convenience them. He prays to whatever all-powerful entity exists in the universe the day will never come.
“For the last time, I’m not stalking anybody.” He grumbles into his coffee, hoping his words were quiet enough for only Matt to hear. Lance perks up. Shiro silently curses Lance and his inept ability to eavesdrop.
“Shiro? Stalking someone? Online? Mister ‘chivalrous gentleman’ himself? No way!” his reaction is too genuine to be teasing or sarcastic. Shiro’s grip tightens, his prosthetic threatening to tear into his cup and make a mess. Matt notices and shoots a cat-like grin. All that’s missing is a knife at his throat. Were he not raised to be the man he is, he would have slaughtered him.
“Oh yes. Believe it or not, even our dear Shiro the Hero falls victim to carnal desire. After all, he is still a mere human, despite what everything about him would have you believe.”
Lance gapes a little too wide. It’s a mystery how his face is able to stretch that much. His surprise feels a little excessive considering Lance himself had totally-not-stalked every social media page Allura made after learning her name and becoming absolutely smitten by the one interaction they had months ago. Only...Lance somehow managed to charm Allura and speaks to her regularly whereas Shiro doesn’t even know if the guy he thinks is aesthetically pleasing to look at even lives near him. It’s probably better that way.
Shiro has to refocus and counterbalance the sudden weight shift when he feels Lance fling himself at him with a joyous hug. “You’re one of us now!” Lance proclaims excitedly, “I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to give you the ‘Lover Boy Lance’ experience in this lifetime.”
Shiro wrinkles his nose, “You make it sound like you’ve been waiting to romance me.” Lance looks off innocently to the side, which throws Shiro off. Especially when Lance meets his gaze with fond pity.
“Oh you sweet summer child,” he heaves a sigh, taking hold of Shiro’s shoulder, “Believe me, if I were gay and not in love with Allura, I would’ve hit on you long ago.” he deapans. Shiro sputters, unsure of how he should respond. Luckily, Matt does it for him.
“Please. If you and Allura are anything to go by, you’d’ve crashed and burned just as bad. Hell, I doubt you’d be able to interact with him like a normal person without relying on those lame cheesy pick up lines you insist on using.”
“In my defense, they both look like freaking gods!” Lance squawks, “And my pick up lines are not lame! But that’s not the point,” he waves Matt off, “The point is, you’ve got Lancey-Lance here at your service to help woo your mans for you.” He preens, expecting Shiro to bless him with praise and appreciation. Shiro stares.
“Thanks, but no.”
Lance makes that indignant “Auh!” sound of hurt as Matt laughs. “Why not? My methods get results!” Lance pouts. Shiro shakes his head and goes back to finishing the last of his drink.
So what if he’d rather quietly appreciate the beauty of man through a screen instead of trying and failing to put on “the moves”, for lack of a better term? He was comfortable with where he was at. Yeah, it’d be nice to have someone to cuddle and kiss again, but right now? In this economy? He’d get more utility from a body pillow. A body pillow wouldn’t have him up late at night wondering if feelings were reciprocated or still there. A body pillow wouldn’t hurt him.
He makes a mental note to buy one later. Maybe two.
“This sucks. I was really looking forward to helping you in the love department. I’d kill to have that success story under my belt!” Lance’s eyes sparkle like in those animes Shiro used to watch as a kid. He’d have made a great shoujo character, he offhandedly thinks, “I’d get so many people asking for my tutelage.”
“Maybe some other time,” He says for the sake of being nice. He’s never been one to crush spirits and ruin dreams.
“Really? You mean it?” Lance asks, hope laced in his voice.
“Sure, buddy.”
Lance spends the next five minutes showering Shiro with countless praise and sweet rambles about how he really is a precious-cinnamon-roll-sunshine-angel-adonis of a man he hopes to be when he grows up. When Shiro finally gets him to stop, Matt conspires with Lance regarding Shiro’s love life because, “That day may come sooner than you think, McClain,” and henceforth fills Shiro with dread. It’s more than likely that Matt has already gone ahead and collected all the needed info to track down “CherryBoM”. None of the words out of Matt’s mouth are encouraging.
“Can we please stop talking about me and refocus on this café?” he practically begs. They comply (thank god) and make plans to go later that week.
“Hey! Over here!” A voice calls as the boys step into the café.
It’s Pidge.
Matt explained on the way over that he invited Pidge seeing as she’s friends with some of the staff members, which meant he was hoping for some free, if not discounted, goods. Something about how the pastries were to die for and “It’s a crime to live life without ever eating Hunk’s food”.
Shiro smiles and thanks Pidge for saving them a booth. He notices a cat perched behind her, trying to test if her shoulder is a trustworthy surface to walk on.
“Where’d the cat come from?” Shiro asks as Pidge moves to grab the feline instead, ignoring its plaintive meow of having its endeavors interrupted.
“Some come to you, like this girl here,” she sets the cat next to her on the seat, petting its head, “Others you can request. They tend to stay in the back there, it’s their designated area.” She says, tilting her head to the back corner behind Shiro. “You gonna get one?”
“Well, that’s kinda why I’m here,” He laughs, “I will in a little bit.” He just has to work up the energy to get up after sitting down.
“It’s my favorite kitten!” Matt coos as he picks up the cat Pidge had set down, “Well, one of them,” He says, shooting Pidge a grin. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“Yes, he’s here too. Still isn’t fond of you calling him ‘Kitten’.”
“Perfect. He will eventually.”
“Are you two still talking about cats?” Lance asks. Matt shrugs. Pidge sips on her drink. “Gee, thanks for clarifying.” Lance huffs. The Holts smile.
“I’m gonna head to where the animals are.” Shiro says, sensing a lull. Lance gives him a thumbs up, browsing the menu. Pidge and Matt start to have a silent conversation via facial expressions. Yup. Right time to ditch.
Five cats stared at him as Shiro made his way over to the cat corner.
There was a yellow one, a blue one, a black one, a red one, and a black kitten that was playing with a Pitbull (huh. Nice to know the animals here got along). The black one was the biggest out of them. It also seemed to be fixated on Shiro specifically. Cats and their weird fixations, man.
Shiro hesitantly approached the cats, their heads veering back a bit as he grew closer.
“Hi.” he greeted, holding his hand out limply. The red cat, which was a ginger now that he took the time to notice, meow’d confusedly, turning to look at its black furred companion. Said black cat jerked its head forward slowly, curious. Its nose twitched as it took an experimental sniff of Shiro. The others continued to stare, except for the kitten, who had gone back to passing a bottle cap to the Pitbull.
With a pleased meow of its own, it butted its head against his palm, encouraging Shiro to pet it. He complied with a grin. Cats were the best.
“You can take her back to your table if you want.” A voice says. He turns to see who spoke to him, stopping dead in his tracks.
‘Holy shit. Is that? Oh my god it is. Fuuuuck me.’
Shiro knows he’s overreacting. As far as meet cutes go, an animal café isn’t a bad one, but still! It’s CherryBoM! In the flesh! What are the odds the star of his daydreams worked at this café, standing right in front of him? And he’s real! Physically present! Shiro knows this because he actually got some fucking sleep last night (lord knows he deserves it), so there’s no way he could possibly be hallucinating this.
Jesus Christ he’s prettier in person. Part of him thought those sparkly blue eyes and the sheen of his hair were enhanced by filters but nope! That’s all natural, baby! Hot damn he’s never been so jealous yet awestruck. He could pinpoint constellations in those eyes, chart the stars and explore entire galaxies in them alone. He could lose himself in that fluffy black hair of his, dark as the night sky.
Did he seriously just wax poetry about him? Wow. In all fairness, his hair did look enticingly soft.
He must have been staring too long, caught up in that sweet sweet gay panic because CherryBoM starts to look a little worried.
“You okay?”
No. No he is not, you kind, wonderful man. Holy hell even his voice made him weak. All rough with a hint of sweetness like burnt caramel with just the right crunch. He could fall asleep to that voice. Among other things.
Ok he really needed to stop this sudden sappiness over someone he didn’t personally know.
“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just...” He hesitates. He can’t exactly say ‘ I recognize you from Instagram because I spend too much of my free time enjoying everything about you, including your art and your dog because wow you’re perfect.’
Instead he finds himself saying, “...Cats.”
Way to go, Shiro. Stumbling majestically like a newborn baby goat. You cute dumb potato.
CherryBoM huffs what could be a laugh. Shiro hopes it’s in amusement.
“First time here?” He asks. Shiro nods. “Figured,” he says, “Like I said, you can take her back to your table if you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You are in an animal café. I’d limit it to at least 2 cats though. Gotta save some for the other customers.” he watches Shiro internally struggle in deciding which to bring back. He decides on the one he’d been petting earlier, but draws back when the red cat tries swiping at his hand.
“Sorry, I probably should’ve mentioned that Red is kinda territorial over Black. They’re pretty close,” He gives Shiro an apologetic glance.
Shiro pauses. “Black? Red? That’s their names? Very creative.”
CherryBoM blushes a little, “Don’t judge me, alright? I’m not good at choosing names...and my coworkers made me, because ‘they’re not gonna tell you their names, that’s dumb’,” he pouts, crossing his arms, “ They’re dumb,” he mumbles to himself. He makes eye contact with Shiro after a few seconds. “It’s stupid, I know.” He sighs.
“No, no, I get it,” Shiro jumps, “When I was little I used to think if I tried really hard I’d be able to talk to animals. So I’d always argue with my family that it wasn’t fair to give them a second name since cleary the mom gave them one too. That’s how it worked for every species, right?” he stops, laughing fondly at the memory. He got so worked up over the silliest of things as a child. “When I finally caved I’d name them based off of their personality or fur color,” he leans in closer to CherryBoM, like he’s about to expose a secret, “‘Kuro’ may sound like a cool name, but it means ‘black’ in Japanese.”
CherryBoM blesses him with a laugh, the timbre of his voice makes Shiro feel warm and proud. “Nice to know someone here shares a similar thought process,” he smiles, “I may use your story next time someone tries to sway me into naming my dog.”
Shiro perks up. “You have a dog?” He asks, despite knowing he does. CherryBoM nods, “He’s usually in the pen with the other dogs, but my friend is taking him out for a walk right now,” he gives Shiro a coy smile, “You might get to see him if you stick around long enough.”
Is.
Was that…?
Was that a flirt ?
Oh heck. It was, wasn’t it?
Oh geez, time to reboot the system.
Shiro can’t control the pounding of his heart. He wishes he could, then he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not it’s loud enough to hear. His gay ass can’t handle this.
CherryBoM sticks his hand out in greeting, “I’m Keith.”
‘Keith. His name is Keith. He just told me his name. It’s Keith.’ If he were a more functional human being, this wouldn’t feel like a big deal. Alas, Shiro is a renowned disaster, and right now baby gay brain is fixated on his name. It suits him. ‘It suits Keith , ’ his inner voice supplies cheerily.
Running on autopilot, Shiro takes his hand. He tries his best not to show how affected he is by the size difference. “Shiro. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, Shiro. Want me to hold Red while you grab Black?” Oh. Right. Cats. Animal café.
Shiro contemplates this. “Or I could take them both back? Wouldn’t wanna separate the two.”
“Sure,” Keith grins, “You take Black and I’ll follow you to your table with Red.”
Shiro wants to question if that would be wise, being a server and all, but seeing how CherryB- Keith lifts and holds Red from a safe distance, he decides to trust he’ll wash up before handling food again. He’s got a responsible vibe to him that Shiro appreciates.
Lance, however, does not appreciate the man.
“ Keith works here? Geez guys, why didn’t you tell me!” he whines to Matt and Pidge when the two head back to the booth.
“Nice to see you too, Lance.” Keith says, unenthused.
Shiro freezes. Wait a minute. Lance knows Keith? Matt and Pidge too? They all know each other?!
“Who did you think I was talking about when I said ‘Kitten?’” Matt asks, reveling in the appalled look on Keith and Lance’s face.
“Oh ewwww, gross!” Lance remarks as Keith says, “Matt, I swear I will end you.”
Pidge sighs, pulling out her phone to ignore them. Matt snickers, “I was hoping for some entertainment,” he says.
“As if the animals wouldn’t be enough,” Keith mutters with a pointed glare. Shiro slowly sits back down, Black squirming to get comfortable on his lap. He squints at Matt, who looks nothing short of innocent-or at least is trying to-and instantly feels suspicious. He’s the only one at this table-aside from maybe Pidge, depending on if Matt blabbed to her-who knew about Shiro’s online crush CherryBoM aka Keith.
Suspicious indeed.
Keith hands Red to Pidge, stealing Matt’s cat companion in the process.
“Hey! Dude, what the hell?” Matt complains.
“Only well-behaved, nice people get cats. And you can only have two animals.” He says matter-of-factly.
“So only Shiro and Pidge get animals then? This is harassment!” Lance proclaims, driving his pointer finger into the table.
“Nah, that’s just the perks of favoritism.” Pidge chimes in nonchalantly, petting Red. Lance glowers.
Matt huffs, a little put-off at losing his favorite green kitty. “Geez Kitten, what’s gotten into you today?”
“I have to deal with you at work,”
“Harsh. And here I thought we were close,”
Keith shoots him a look. “Wrong Holt.” He smirks, bumping fists with Pidge without either of them needing to look.
“I see how it is,” Matt says, slouching onto the table, “If you’re gonna be like that, be a dear and take our orders once you refill our waters, you plebeian.”
Keith’s eye twitches slightly, but he masks it with an overly friendly customer service smile and heads off to do his job. Shiro waits a moment before launching his subtle investigation. Best to reel them in with false comfort. He wants answers, damn it.
“So. How are you all acquainted with Keith?” He smiles sweetly.
“Through a party Hunk invited me to.” Pidge says, not offering any deeper explanation. That’s fine. She’s not the one Shiro wants to catch red-handed.
Matt nods his head towards Pidge, “Met him through this one at a hangout a while back. Wasn’t much of a socializer, but once we connected over space and astronomy, a friendship of sorts fell into place.” He folds his hands, as if he knows exactly what Shiro’s up to.
“Hey Lance, why don’t you tell Shiro why you’re so fond of Keith.” Matt suggests. Well would you look at that, diverting attention away from himself.
Interesting.
“I’d rather not,” Lance says.
“Oh? Suddenly not keen on complaining about Keith to us? Never stopped you before.” Matt comments.
“That’s because he was never within the vicinity! He’s already plotting my demise, I don’t need to add fuel to that fire when he’s the damn flame!”
“For the last time, Keith isn’t conspiring to kill you,” Pidge pinches the bride of her nose, “you’re just paranoid ever since the incident.”
“The man had murder written in his eyes!” Lance exclaims, distraught.
“Lance, Buddy, tone it down,” Shiro says, making a ‘shush’ motion with his free hand. They’re starting to attract not-so-subtle stares thanks to Lance.
Black saunters off Shiro’s lap, hopping gracefully onto the table as she wanders between Pidge and Lance, as if sensing his distress. Lance takes a few breaths, running his fingers thru Black’s fur. She purrs. Red joins Black, meowing softly.
“You all laugh, but if I ever go missing, you know who to blame.” he stares each of them down.
“Who would I blame?” Shiro asks.
Lance looks exasperated, “You’d blame Keith!”
“And what exactly am I being blamed for?”
The group turns to see Keith standing there, notepad in hand. Matt laughs into his hand at seeing Lance blanch before sitting up straight, puffing his chest indignantly to seem bigger. He must have been a bird in a past life.
“My sudden ‘disappearance’,” He emphasizes the last word with quotation marks, “Should it happen unexpectedly.” He squints accusingly at Keith.
Red scratches Lance and gives him a judgmental look.
“You’re training them to attack me, aren’t you?” Lance hisses as he nurses his hand. Keith rolls his eyes.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Keith smirks and-oh boy, Shiro’s gonna be seeing that in his fantasies from now until the end of time. He goes about jotting down everyone’s food order, although it’s a hassle getting Lance to comply. By the way Keith handles it, Shiro assumes he’s had practice dealing with Lance. Or at least with people similar to him.
Shiro has no idea how he manages to calmly order his own food, but it goes by smoothly. For his standards anyways. He can tell by the way his friends look at him his attraction towards Keith isn’t subtle.
He decides it’s Matt’s fault.
Matt eventually takes notice of Shiro’s glare. “What?”
“What’s your angle, Holt?”
Matt acts scandalized. “Can’t a guy take his poor, stressed friend out to relax at a nice place with cuddly animals without being accused of some foul ploy?”
“Absolutely. If your name isn’t Matthew Holt or Lance McClain.”
“Ouch.”
“Hey! Why am I being dragged into this? I’m an innocent bystander!” Lance protests.
“Because I’m certain Matt’s told you about Keith being CherryBoM since earlier this week. Why else would he suggest this place?” His betrayed gaze never wavers from Matt. Shiro will not die on this hill of non-self-inflicted embarrassment if he has anything to say about it.
“ KEITH’S THE GUY YOU LIKE? KEITH? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Lance hollers, hands hitting the table in shock. The cats jump and scamper off to different sides of the table, spooked by the sudden noise.
“Lance, shut up!” Pidge drags him back down by his ear. Shiro silently thanks her, not wanting to move. Maybe if he stops breathing all together, he could disappear. Straight into thin air. That’d be ideal right about now.
“For once, can you not make a big deal out of the obvious?” She hisses.
Wow. Thanks Pidge.
Lance’s jaw tightens, “Well excuse me for being taken back!” He managed to somewhat moderate his volume this time, on par with a harsh whisper instead of an airhorn.
Lance rubs his eyes in dismay, “Of all the men you could’ve fallen for, it had to be the brooding lone wolf with a mullet out to get me,” he looks at Shiro with a level of defeat he hasn’t seen since Lance thought Allura was in a relationship. “I feel like I don’t even know you. What has my idol become?” He laments, slowly lowering his head onto the table.
“Don’t beat yourself up, bud,” Matt pats Lance’s back, “our boy has always had interesting taste in men. You know this.”
Shiro feels offended on behalf of his exes and himself. Mostly himself.
Lance turns his head enough to look at Matt. “I’m not helping now that I know it’s Keith.”
“Okay seriously, what’s the story behind you two?” Shiro blurts.
Lance exhales. “Fine. Remember when I got all sad and mopey because I saw Allura get a ride from this cool guy on a motorcycle a few times and assumed they were a thing?”
“Yeah...red bike? You saw him later with another girl, blond hair? Had you convinced he was a two-timer and thus you set out to expose him?”
That had been an interesting week. Lance had gone from soap opera sad to BBC Sherlock Holmes in a blink of an eye. He hadn’t seen him around much that week, as Lance was preoccupied with taking down Biker Boy. To this day, Shiro never got full details on what transpired, but what he does know is one day, Lance showed up at his dorm, wordlessly flopped on the couch, and wasted a full half hour of his and Matt’s time trying to get a coherent sentence out of him. Of which it was revealed that Biker Boy and Allura were good friends through her cousin Romelle, aka the other girl, and that he’d done something that may or may not have ruined his chances with Allura for good.
Lance nods, face slightly red. Whether in embarrassment or shame, he can’t tell. “Yeah, well. That was Keith.”
Matt loses his composure, letting his laughter out in a wheeze. “Holy shit, biker boy’ is Keith? That’s amazing,” he cackles, “Wait until he finds out you once thought he was cool. And that you were jealous of him.”
“No! Not jealous! Not cool! Keith is never finding out about this! Embarrassing myself to Allura is enough! This doesn’t leave this table!” his pointer finger presses into Matt’s chest.
“So does the red jacket story fall into this niche series of events too? Or was that a different dumbass Lance moment?” Matt arches a brow, smirk growing as Lance presses his lips into a tight line, practically frowning.
“Ah, that one happens later that same day,” Pidge answers in spite of Lance, “The tension? The abrupt change in music? The legitimate fear in Lance’s eyes? A cinematic masterpiece.” She does a chef’s kiss, “I wish I had recorded it.”
As curious as Shiro may be, he decides to cut Lance some slack. Especially once he slumps over, muttering, “Et tu, Brute?” as he tries to beckon one of the two cats over to him (Pidge shows no remorse). Shiro takes Red and hands Black over to him. He needed her most right now.
“Thanks, Shiro. Your tastes may be questionable, but you’re the only valid bitch in this establishment.”
“Thanks, Lance. I think.”
When Keith had taken their orders, Shiro decided to go simple and selected a soup and sandwich.
He should’ve ordered something else.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Keith says in abject horror. The dog that threw Keith off-balance circles around him as if nothing happened, tail wagging happily. Shiro blinks, taking a bit to process what transpired.
He’d chosen to forgive Matt (temporarily) and conversed with his friends, ignoring any comments involving his painfully obvious glances towards Keith. The mind is strong but the body is weak...or something like that. Not to mention the heart gives no shits and will expose you to everyone within a 20 foot radius. Or so a snickering Pidge and Matt will point out. Shiro’s only saving grace lies with the frustrating truth that said object of his affections-be it Keith or any of his previous crushes-are usually (if not almost always) oblivious to his pining.
And then, as the lovely raven haired man made his way carrying food, a massive blur of fluff bounded towards Keith, who tried his hardest to regain his footing. But alas, the sudden weight shift was enough to send Shiro’s bowl of soup out of Keith’s grasp and onto his lap. Ouch.
Good thing they had long since returned the cats.
The shock of hot liquid was enough to make him yelp, but everything after that seemed to muddle. He was too focused on trying to convince his nervous system that no, the soup wasn’t that hot okay it’s totally fine-LOVE THE BURN YOU WEAKLING-to register Keith trying to help by patting his thighs with various napkins to soak up the spill.
The dog pokes his nose into Keith’s face, nuzzling him. He’s a very fluffy dog, fluffier in person. If he weren’t fighting off pain, he’d more than happily smoosh his fluffy face between his hands.
“Shit, again, I’m so sorry I didn’t see Kosmo coming, I’d’ve payed more attention if I knew he was back from his walk oh god-Romelle! Take Kosmo and get some ice!” Keith ordered as he kept applying napkins. Shiro blinks. A woman with long, blond hair tied up in two pony tails fretted near the two, apologizing profusely as she scampered off to do what Keith asked, carrying the unsuspecting dog back to the pet corner. The group (minus Keith) marvels at how easily she can lift what must be 135 pounds of wriggling fluff without hesitation or the slightest struggle.
Shiro looks down at Keith and okay nevermind, bad idea very bad look away! You don’t need to know what he’d look like between your legs-CHRIST Shiro keep it together!
It’s the pain. It’s gotta be. He’s just delirious right now, that’s all. In the back of his mind, he mourns the loss of the beef barley soup he’d ordered. He wanted beef, but not like this!
“Hah...it’s alright, Keith,” Shiro managed after taking a deep breath. Lord knows he needed it.
“‘Alright?’ Shiro! The man spilled hot liquid all over your di-”
“Lance!” Shiro pleads. Lance huffs.
“And then that dog just comes out of nowhere!” he continues.
“Lance-” Keith says,
“Why is a dog that big even loose in this part of the cafe anyways! Shouldn’t he be with the other dogs?”
“Lance, please-”
“Can I even call it a dog? It was massive! What, is he part wolf or something?!”
“Lance!” Keith shouts.
“What?!”
“That’s my emotional support wolf.”
Silence.
“YOUR WHAT!”
Matt whips his head at Lance’s yell, pausing in his aid of handing Keith the remaining napkins from the dispenser to gawk.
“Wait, for real?” He asks, a lilt of excitement to his voice. Keith nods, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Shiro offhandedly thinks it’s cute, despite trying not to. Matt comments how fucking cool that is and once this is over, he has to meet this wolf-dog. He and Pidge begin planning a puppy date between their dogs, much to Lance’s chagrin (“Of course the lone wolf owns a wolf. Why wouldn’t he? If I get maimed, I’m haunting you both from the grave.”).
Shiro takes the opportune distraction to talk to Keith, who’s removing the last of the napkins and is now picking up the bits of meat and vegetables.
“So that’s your infamous wolf-dog?” He asks. Keith looks up at him.
“Yeah…”
“I thought he didn’t have a name?” Shiro teases. He winces when Keith’s hand brush past the soup spot.
“Yeah, well. Thanks to Romelle and Hunk, he does now.” Keith pouts a little. Shiro can tell he’ll continue to wait for Kosmo to tell him his true name.
“Hey, at least it’s not something like ‘Blue’ or ‘Fluffles’. Kosmo sounds kinda cool, like he’s a teleporting space wolf.”
Keith snorts, “With how fast he runs, I wouldn’t be surprised if that really is a special ability of his,” he scoops the vegetables into his palm and places them into the empty bowl, “which explains how Romelle lost control of him today. It doesn’t happen often, but…” he sighs disappointedly.
“I’m sorry. For all of this.” Shiro says, moving to help with the clean up now that the burn has faded into a warm tingle that borders on uncomfortable only because his clothes are wet.
Keith pauses, raising a concerned brow at him. “What could you possibly have to apologize for?”
Shiro hesitates. “Well...I mean. I shouldn’t have ordered soup, so...sorry?”
Keith blinks at him. A disbelieving laugh graces his ears. Shiro can’t help but blush a little. Still, Keith’s laugh borders on rough, the warmth of it filling the space they share. Shiro cracks a smile, entranced by Keith and whatever it is he found funny. He’s glad its calmed Keith down, he felt bad for causing him stress.
“What?” Shiro asks with feigned offence once Keith stifles his laugh.
“Sorry, I just. I can’t believe you’re apologizing to me . I know you’re a sweet guy, but that’s-wow.” Keith chuckles some more. Shiro’s pretty sure he looks like a tomato right now.
“Ah, yeah, I...I guess it is pretty silly of me…” he says.
Keith shakes his head. “It’s fine. Cute, even.” The last part is said softly, as if it wasn’t meant for Shiro to hear.
“Glad you think so.” Shiro mutters back. They smile shyly.
“I’ve brought ice!” An accented voice cuts in. Romelle, quick to follow orders, hands a towel-wrapped bag of ice to Shiro, who gratefully places it on the affected leg. He can’t help but sigh in relief.
Romelle bows deeply. “I am truly, deeply sorry for causing this! Kosmo can be sneaky and too quick on his feet for his own good!” She straightens up, taking the bowl Keith hands her, “however, that’s no excuse for losing control of him while he was under my care. Is there anything I can do to atone for this?”
“You could make his meal free of charge,” Lance suggests. Shiro scowls at him.
“Ignore Lance, I’m fine. I understand this was an accident, no worries.” He assures her. Romelle blinks, staring at Keith for confirmation. He shakes his head in amusement.
“Yeah, he’s being serious. The guy’s a saint or something.” He remarks, Romelle nodding in astonishment.
“I will find a way to repay you!” She promises, taking away the dishes.
“You really don’t have to!” Shiro calls out after her, knowing if she heard him, he’s most likely being ignored.
Sure enough, he gets another meal free of charge. Provided it’s not another soup. He also gets free coffee with any pastry of his choosing for the rest of the month, courtesy of Hunk. A pretty sweet deal, he has to admit.
“Guys, you really didn’t have to,” Shiro says, setting down the card Hunk gave him that allows him access to aforementioned caffeine and sweets.
“Shiro, please, it’s the least we can do,” Keith chides.
“Yeah, especially for the soup thing,” Hunk says, “Seriously, it’s no hassle. Treat yourself, it’s on us!” He grins, “And, sorry again…”
Shiro shakes his head, laughing fondly. “Alright. Thank you.” He submits. Might as well make the best of a situation, right?
“So, Hunk, buddy,” Lance starts, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “how about hooking us up with a similar deal?”
“Sorry, those are only offered to special customers,”
Pidge finger guns at Hunk.
“Aw, c’mon!”
“I can, however, give you free samples whenever I bake new treats.”
Lance beams, “Aw hell yeah! You’re the best!” He says, giving Hunk a firm hug.
“Anytime,” Hunk grins.
“Hey!” Pidge protests.
“Pidge, you know you have the better deal.” Hunk points out. She pauses.
“Fair enough.”
Matt huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “You better share your stash the next time you come over,”
“I’ll think about it.” Pidge says.
“Think you can walk home?” Matt asks, shifting his attention to Shiro. Thanks to the ice, Shiro’s leg definitely felt better, but moving it seemed to be a pain. Hmm.
He stands, only wincing slightly as he does so. He hobbles out of the booth, the bag of ice still pressed to his leg. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Matt rolls his eyes, “Bullshit, Shirogane. I’m not making you walk-I’m sorry, hobble to your dorm,”
Shiro sighs, “Then what do you suggest?” He sees the gears in Matt’s head turn and wonders if he should even bother anymore. Matt had a habit of strapping Shiro into an emotional rollercoaster of dread and anxiety with the added detail of being the operator. He may hit his point of indifference sooner than intended.
Matt pretends to mull this over, stopping to lock eyes with Keith. “Why not have Keith carry you home?”
“What?” They both say at the same time.
“I don’t see why not. This could be Keith’s turn to apologize.” ‘And for Shiro to get some one-on-one action with CherryBoM~’ he don’t vocalize this, but the look on his face gives it away to Shiro.
“Matt-“
“Alright.”
Wait.
What.
No? Excuse?
Not that he wouldn’t like that-he very much would-but he would quite literally lose his mind. Swept off his feet by this beautiful live rendition of a Greek statue? Yes please! Being the cause of a potential back injury? He’d never live with himself. He’s not exactly light-weight.
Before he can put an end to this, he finds himself being lifted. By Keith. Bridal style.
Holy fuck.
Um. Okay then.
Oh my god.
“What the fuck! How are you doing that!” Lance gawks.
“What, like it’s hard?” Keith shifts Shiro up so his leg is in a more comfortable position. The act alone sends him to his happy place. He swears he hears bells.
There goes his ability to talk. Or think.
Wrow.
“You! The man is a beefcake! How are you…?” Lance runs his head through his hair. “Christ...you’re insane...I don’t even wanna know what your workout routine is.”
“Kitten here has a few tricks up his sleeve. Super human strength seems to be one of them.” Matt brags.
“No shit.” Lance breathes, “I’m just...I’m gonna head home now. Thanks for the meal.” He departs with a bewildered expression akin to learning a kilogram of steel weighs the same as a kilogram of feathers. Shiro has never related to Lance more than he has in that moment.
“Ok then, Pidge and I are heading out. Have fun you two! And thanks for the food Hunk! It was delicious, as usual.”
“Anytime! Come back again!” Hunk and Romelle wave goodbye, then leave Shiro in Keith’s very strong, lithe, capable arms.
God damn. Those biceps though. Fuuuuuuck.
“Shall we?” Keith asks.
“Uh. Wh...what about your job? And Kosmo?” Good job, Shiro. Communication is hard in the arms of an angel.
Keith chuckles, “I work till close today. I should have enough time to carry you home and finish work. As for Kosmo? I trust him with Hunk and Romelle.” Kosmo whines and barks from the time out corner Romelle put him in. “I’ll be back in a bit, Bud,” he looks at Shiro. “Shall we?”
Is he dreaming? Did the soup’s heat get to him? He never wants to rejoin reality if that’s the case. Especially since it lands him Keith’s phone number once they reach Shiro’s couch.
His couch!!
He messages Keith later that night to see if they really did switch numbers.
After spending a few hours exchanging texts ranging from Kosmo, work, and casual get-to-know-you’s, it turns out they did.
Looks like he owed Matt a thank you.
Nah. He’ll thank the soup instead.