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“He’s staring again,” Keith leaned toward his boyfriend’s ear. The broad-shouldered man didn’t move, eyes only flicked up for a moment, away from the papers sprawled in front of him. With a single glance, he took in the sight of the young lanky man behind the counter. The barista had almost abandoned his previous task of wiping down the glass case filled with sugary and savory treats. His tanned chestnut-skinned arm absentmindedly wiped circles in the same spot, eyes gazing in their direction. A smile tugged the corner of his lips as Shiro went back to studying the reports.
“That he is,” he returned in an equally quiet voice, aware of how quiet the shop had become. Keith closed his tablet down and leaned further into Shiro’s side. They shared a rather small booth, although neither really cared about the tight quarters. The shorter man’s eyes scanned the little coffee shop. It wasn’t large by any means, but it was big enough to give some semblance of private conversation when wanted. Booths lined the west wall, tables and chairs in the middle, whilst a breakfast-type bar with accompanying bar stools lined the east wall. The color theme was modern, silver and black highlights with a few primary colors here and there.
It was about eleven at night now, in a college town like this one most quiet shops like this stayed open longer during finals week. Now though, most everyone had cleared out. Only a few stragglers remained. A person with bright ginger hair and big round glasses sat at a far table. They had books stacked high almost hiding them as they hunching over a notebook; green headphones covering their ears. A larger, bulky man in a yellow sweatshirt sat across from them--an orange headband keeping his dark bangs from covering his eyes. Though, it didn’t seem to do much good, as the man was drooling face smashed into what looked to be an engineering textbook. Then, of course, there was the tall barista cleaning the snack display case. He was a tall, slight human with hints of muscle in his arms and under his tight jeans. His skin was chesnut and sun-kissed--obviously taking advantage of the beach just up the road. The young man’s hair was a deep brown, curling a little at his neck as if he’d been passed due for a haircut.
Bright ocean blue eyes, about every couple of minutes would meander their way back to the corner booth, where Keith and Shiro sat. It wasn’t the first time they’d caught him ogling. No, it definitely was not that. They’d been coming here since it opened a few months ago, claiming this booth every time. And, each time this particular barista was on his shift, he couldn’t seem to tear his star-struck eyes away. It’s not as if they weren’t used to people staring, because they were. Two fairly masculine men, with military-trained discipline, and sharp stunning jawlines, walk down the street holding hands and people tend to stare. However, the way this barista looked at them was different. Every time either one would catch the man’s eyes, there was almost a silent admiration there and faint hints of a blush on his cheeks.
“Let's give him something to look at,” Keith smirked resting his chin against Shiro’s shoulder. The older man turned his head, eyebrow raised.
“Oh no,” Shiro shook his head, “I know that look, Keith Kogane. He looks pitiful enough when we hold hands. We are not whipping that puppy.” Shiro frowned, sympathy in his eyes as he watched the young man move to start wiping down tables. “I couldn’t handle the look in those big baby blues,” the older man sighed a bit, then returned his gaze back down to Keith. The shorter man pursed his lips, lifting his chin.
“He is not a whipped puppy, Shiro. If he’s anything, he’s a smitten schoolboy,” Keith whispered, eyes following the barista’s movements. Watching as he rounded the table and caught the pair looking at him. Keith gave a little wave, and the tall lanky man’s eyes went a little wide. He gave a quick, nervous smile back before shuffling to clean another table. “He seems lonely,” Keith tugged at his boyfriend’s arm, “Come on let's at least cheer him up a little. You know you want to.” Keith moved his hand, to grasp the older man’s thick thigh muscle. Shiro’s breath hitched for a moment before he calmed down again. Keith leaned up, where his breath ghosted over Shiro’s ear. “You think he’s cute too; I know you do. Just think about the way he’s always trying those cute pick-up lines, or how his hips do that little sway when he’s trying not to dance to the music, or his smile that-”
“That is so bright, it’d make the sun jealous, I know. I have eyes,” he sighed, putting his papers down a little defensively. “I’ve seen all that, he is… very aesthetically pleasing, I’ll admit it.” Keith grinned, a mischievous glint coming to his eye.
“What about the blush he’d get when he sees us kiss? Maybe lips a little parted in surprise, eyes going all big, staring at us, wanting attention. Maybe he’d even want to be in between us-” the shorter man slurred, tightening his grasp on Shiro’s leg. The other man dropped his head in his hands, shaking it a little; his reports fully discarded on the table. He focused on his breathing, feeling his resolve waver. Damn it, Keith… Shiro thought with no real spite in it. They’d been together long enough to know what buttons to push and how far to take things.
They’d discussed their opinion of the handsome barista before--unfortunately, Shiro was a little buzzed at the time and spilled more than he’d care to share about his feelings. Keith, of course, ate it up. He’d felt the spark there too. That connection they felt with the barista was mostly why they made the coffee shop a regular stop. At some point, they’d coax the man to speak to than more than just, “what can I get you today” or call their names for their orders. However, at the moment, all Shiro was thinking about was the pressure on his thigh and Keith’s breathy words in his ear. The older man groaned, raising his head. A little color played on his cheeks as he took in a deep breath and rolled his eyes to the ceiling
“I can barely handle one of you, let alone two,” he scrubbed a hand down his face. “I am fucked.” Shiro let out a final sigh, angling a little more toward Keith. He rested an arm on the back of the booth, behind Keith’s shoulders. “What did you have in mind?” Keith’s deep violet eyes gleamed.
“A kiss.”
“You went through this whole spiel just to ask for a kiss…” Shiro snorted, not really questioning at all. Keith smirked his free hand coming to rest on his boyfriend’s waist, tugging them a bit closer.
“Is he looking yet?” Shiro’s eyes searched over Keith’s shoulder. The barista was back behind the counter now, phone in hand. However, the boy’s eyes roamed the shop, quickly heading in their direction. Shiro looked back down at his boyfriend. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his left hand moving from the back of the booth. He cupped the back of Keith’s neck, fingers running through the dark long locks there.
“Mmhmm,” Shiro hummed, leaning in to meet Keith’s lips with his. Shiro closed his eyes feeling the pressure Keith’s soft lips gave back. It started innocently, like this, them just sinking into the familiar touch. Soon, Keith’s fingers curled gripping at Shiro’s collar. Their lips parted together, their mouths molding to each others'. Keith taking Shiro’s bottom lip between his. Shiro pulled his right mechanical arm around to pulled at Keith’s waist. They pushed closer, their tongues meeting each other. They felt this yearning before, of course. But the air around them seemed to spark and sizzle with the knowledge that their crush was watching them. Wet sounds and swallowed groans came from them, as Shiro further explored Keith’s mouth; tasting the lingering coffee there. His prosthetic fingers curled under Keith’s shirt, sending a chilled shiver through the shorter man. The hand grasping at Shiro’s thigh slid higher, kneading into the muscle; a bit too close to Shiro’s crotch for a public place. A disappointed whine came from Keith as Shiro pulled away. Both trying to catch their breath, the small space between them extremely heated.
With heavy-lidded lusty eyes, Keith turned his head; gaze finding the barista’s eyes. It was as he had predicted. The young man sported bright red cheeks, wide longing blue eyes, and his jaw was slack, lips slightly parted and shining; as if he’d unconsciously wetted them. Keith squeezed Shiro’s thigh harder, feeling his breath leaving him again. He bit his lip, a smirk playing on his face realizing the effect they’d had. He heard Shiro’s breath catch looking at the barista as well, fingers in Keith’s hair tightening.
Lance stared at them, completely frozen for a second. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Well, he could believe it, he’d known they were a couple for a while. But they’d never ever kissed here; at least not like that. His face was on fire as he’d watched them; not that he’d wanted to, no, no, he just couldn’t look away. They were too damn gorgeous together for him not to look. And the way his breath hitched, heat tightening in his gut was definitely not attraction or arousal. No, he only admired their handsome jawlines, and hard muscles, and deep eyes from an objective standpoint. Unconsciously his tongue wetted his lips, Lance’s jaw still a little slack in surprise. Wait...they were stopping now, they pulled away. Lance almost let out a sigh of relief. But then, the one with the violet-colored eyes--Keith, was his name--turned, looking in his direction now.
The barista nearly died; he could see his soul leaving his body. Keith’s eyes were clouded with arousal, face glowing from activity, lips a little swollen, and hair a bit disheveled from his boyfriend’s fingers. Then, then he actually had the audacity to smirk at Lance! His companion--Shiro, if Lance recalled right--turned to look as well. His cheeks were a little red, the scar across his nose a bit flushed, and chocolate-colored eyes swimming with an unnamable emotion. All three of them locked eyes for a second before Lance’s brain caught up to what was happening. “D-Dios Mio!” The barista yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin. His phone leaped from his hands, flying a little way before landing with a loud crack on the tile floor behind the counter.
Grateful for the excuse to get out of the pair’s sight, Lance dropped to his hands and knees behind the counter. For a moment, he stayed there, eyes wide glaring at the floor. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chanted to himself, crawling over to his phone. After checking it over for cracks he slid it into his back pocket. Taking a few deep breaths to get his inner turmoil in check, he popped back up from behind the counter. Which put him face to face with none other than, one of the very gorgeous, still a little bit disheveled, men he’d been trying to avoiding.
“Ay!” Lance shouted again, holding a hand over his racing heart. Keith’s smirk had gone, replaced with a raised eyebrow and a worried look in his eye. “¡Lo siento mucho! No habla ingles! No vi nada!” Lance spewed in his native tongue, hoping the man before him would go away. Sometimes if he wanted to away from people, he’d just start speaking Spanish until they’d get uncomfortable or annoyed enough to just leave. The same principle, apparently, did not apply to handsome emo types because Keith stayed. The man folded his arms over his chest, pursing his lips.
“I know you speak English, Lance. You talk to me every time I ordered here…”
“How do you know my name?” The barista squeaked. Keith snorted, pointing to the apron he wore.
“Nametag.” Lance eyed the little piece of plastic pinned to his apron as if it had betrayed his deepest trust. He cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks again.
“Right…” Lance rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry about erm interrupting your...um moment,” a nervous laugh bubbled out of him, “Just caught me off guard. Won’t happen again.” Keith gave a questioning look, leaning on the counter, hands spread wide. A vague thought of how Lance would have to wipe down that spot again, flicked through his mind. But he shook it off, trying to focus. “W-what can I get you?”
“Hmm,” Keith hummed, eyeing the menu before letting his gaze fall over Lance. The barista gulped a bit. He knew customers tended to act a bit funky this late at night but Lance never expected this behavior from the uptight, always serious-faced man before him. “One tall americano and a grande hot chocolate with whipped cream and those little marshmallows.” Lance raised an eyebrow at the last bit but didn’t question it.
“Anything else I can get you?” Lance asked, flowing into the routine of questions again, already uncapping his sharpy, and jotting down Keith’s name and order on two cups.
“Your phone number.” His hand froze mid ‘h’, head jerking up. A smug grin pulled at the man’s lips, confidence radiating off his shoulders. Lance’s gaze flicked from Keith to his boyfriend; who was gathering up the papers that were on their table. Sensing the barista’s eyes, Shiro looked up sending a sweet smile and a small wave.
“Uh..oh yeah, funny,” Lance recovered, chuckling a bit, and quickly turned toward the machines. As he worked the handles Keith continued to speak.
“So, Lance...do you like space?” Lance sent a puzzled look over his shoulder while words popped from his mouth.
“Depends on the person.” Keith’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment frowning. Lance went back to the cups in front of him, moving with ease behind the counter. Really, a man should not look that soft and adorable when he’s confused, the barista thought in regards to the expression on Keith’s face.
“Oh!” A light bulb went off. “No, not personal space. I mean like, planets, dark matter, wormholes, you know...space,” Keith waved his hands in the air gesturing to the sky. Feeling a little less awkward now, a laugh bubbled from his chest again.
“Well according to all the nerdy posters on my walls, yeah I like space,” the words tumbled from Lance’s lips. Though he hadn’t really intended on telling Keith what was plastered all over his bedroom walls, he almost didn’t mind. “Why do you ask?” Lance turned his head over his shoulder, looking in the man’s direction.
“Well, as you may know, Spacefest is being held at the Garrison this year, Shiro and I,” Keith raised up from his leaned position, gesturing to his boyfriend who was packing up their stuff, “happened to score an extra ticket. We were wondering if you may like to join us?” Lance nearly spilled the hot liquid he’d just poured into each of the cups. He turned his whole body now, facing Keith; the cups in his hands.
“Those tickets sold like months in advance, how’d you end up with an extra?!”
“We have a few connections,” it was Shiro who answered this time, coming up behind Keith; a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Lance gulped suddenly aware again at how soothing and attractive the taller man’s voice was.
“W-wow, that’s pretty cool,” Lance’s eyes dipped away, focusing on putting the lids on the pair’s drinks, “I-I’ll um, I'll have to think about it.” His mind buzzed with the prospects of actually getting to go to Spacefest. It had been his dream since as far back as he could remember, but his family was big and he had a hoard of siblings. There just wasn’t the money or time. He’d shamelessly accept the ticket if it were just that. If they weren’t going to use it, he’d gladly take it. The thing that held him back was that Keith asked him to join them. As in go together.
Now, it’s not as if spending time with them didn’t appeal to Lance. The opposite, in fact, he can’t count the number of fantasies he’s had about interacting with them outside this confining shop. He was just so sure he’d never get rid of this stupid crush if they actually became friends. In a way, he’d feel like a third wheel. He’d never want to be in the way or get between them. Truthfully, he wanted with them. Lance sighed into the air, shoulders sagging a bit. That familiar loneliness rising in his chest again.
“Did he get the marshmallows,” the barista heard Shiro whisper, to his partner. Keith gave a quick nod, smiling ear to ear. “Yesss,” Shiro hissed like almost like a kid getting candy. It should be odd, a grown man being so excited about marshmallows, but Lance felt affection swell in his chest. Maybe… maybe getting to know them more wouldn’t be so bad. Right? Lance placed their drinks on the counter, a smile shone on his face.
“Tall americano and grande hot chocolate, with extra little marshmallows,” Lance opened the lid a bit. Shiro peaked down and saw the mound of marshmallows Lance had put. A wide smile broke onto the man’s face, eyes shining. Keith hissed with laughter, grabbing at Shiro’s hand.
“You’re such a six-year-old.”
“Am not,” Shiro bumped his shoulder against Keith’s a faint blush rising on the taller man’s cheeks. He met Lance’s eyes again, shrugging a bit, “So, what do we owe you?”
“For you two? On the house, handsome,” Lance winked, replacing the lid on Shiro’s drink. He internally winced, knowing his wallet would hurt later. The two exchanged a look, sharing some kind of private message.
“Thank you… Lance,” Keith spoke, picking up his drink, Shiro following suit.
“Have a good night,” Shiro nodded at Lance sending him an informal salute, and slung an arm around Keith’s shoulders. The pair turned, beginning to walk away.
“Erm hey guys!” Lance shouted, nerves breaking his voice, “I erm I forgot something…” Both men frowned, unsure of what the barista was referring to. With a shaky hand, Lance snatched a napkin from the counter. It took him three tries to uncap that damned sharpy and his breathing stuttered when he felt the couple’s eyes watching him. Lance finished his scribbles with a flourish and offered the napkin to Keith. “T-that’s my number. You guys could text me the info about Spacefest and I’ll see if I’m off… you know, if you want to still.”
Keith took the napkin immediately, a smile coming onto his face. Shiro met Keith’s eyes, sharing another private message and excited looks. The couple nodded vigorously at Lance in answer, “Of course! We’ll see you soon.” They mazed their way out of the shop, doorbell jingling at their exit. As soon as they were out of sight Lance vaulted over the counter and raced toward the final people in the shop.
“HUNK!!” Lance shouted at the top of his lungs, shaking the large boy awake. Drool still on his lip, the boy raised his head and rubbed his eyes. The hunched-over ginger pulled down their headphones, hearing the racket.
“What the fuck, Lance! We’re busy,” they snapped.
“But pidge podge! I’ve got BIG ASS NEWS!”
“What’s up, bro?” Hunk questioned, leaning against his palm, eyes about to close again.
“I just talked to Keith and Shiro! Without making a complete fool of myself! Well.. Mostly.”
“Good for you…” Pidge grumbled irritatedly flipping the page of their textbook. “Wait, Keith and Shiro as in the Keith and Shiro?” Suddenly, they perked up.
“Yes! And Keith asked for my number, and then they invited me to go to Spacefest because they somehow have an extra ticket!”
“Like a date?” Hunk muttered confused but a little more awake now. Lance’s body stuttered. He hadn’t actually considered…
“N-no.. I mean I don't think so. Why would it be? They're already together. I couldn't get between that. Gotta respect boundaries, you know. Right? I mean.. It couldn't be a date right? I know polyamory is a thing and I certainly wouldn't mind the attention, but really? You think it might be a date Hunk??”
“Woah, calm your nonexistent tits,” Pidge jumped up, raising her hands to stop his rambling. “Sit your Cuban ass down and start from the beginning.” Lance pulled out a chair and spoke.
“Okay, okay.. so I was just minding my own business, wiping down the counter being a good employee-” Pidge shot him a look. “Fine. I was behind the counter scrolling on my Instagram when I look up…”