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It took some convincing, but Keith was allowing him to go about his genius plan.
Today he’d be manning the front while Keith was making some crazy complex Luxite blade he needed to research on. It was a big enough deal that he needed total focus on the project so Lance could not bother him at all today. But Lance was a bit of a Tinkerbell; without proper attention he’d die. And then what?! The Blade would go under since he was the only reason half of these fools even came here (Keith said it was because he was a well known weaponsmith mage with infamous techniques on enchanting elven silversteel but even Pidge said that the place was practically a cat cafe at this point).
So he only did what was necessary. For the good of the economy and also his witch.
“There!” he exclaimed before setting the marker down and taking in the lovely little sign he made to go next to the tip jar. In bright blue marker read the following:
2 GP to pet!!!!
all proceeds go to a cat boy (me) :3
It was perfect compensation for having to work alllllll day when the sun was shining perfectly on his favorite couch. Sigh. The things he does for Keith’s sake.
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Keith cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath.
He’d gotten an incredibly complex order for a Luxite blade and had finally finished gathering the materials to forge the weapon alongside all the proper instructions on enchanting. As a professional weaponsmith witch, he was no stranger to including Bane of Arthropods on a sword or Flame on a bow, but Luxite is a very stubborn material. It’s incredibly difficult to even forge, much less enchant. Not to mention how secretive the practice of Luxite smithing is as only Galras may learn the craft. Keith, however, is half Galran, specifically of the Mamora clan, on his mothers side. He simply sent a letter to his Uncle Kolivan who explained exactly how to go about things, all the while only being a little snarky.
He couldn’t blame the guy. He’d only just retired a couple months ago after Keith turned 24 and left him in charge of the finest weapon shop in Daibazaal City and Keith was still writing him letters to his secluded cabin in the woods on how to imbue rattlesnake venom in a dagger. Even though Kolivan had been raising him for pretty much his whole life to take over the shop, he was still kinda unsure of himself. This was the first big order since Kolivan retired and it was all up to Keith. It was the perfect chance to prove to their regulars that he was a big boy now and could handle the big guns on his own. Or, in this case, a ceremonial Luxite blade. Unfortunately, there was one major factor to Keith’s success.
Lance, his shifter familiar.
On Keith’s 24th birthday, he cast a familiar summoning spell and in the center of the runes appeared Lance. At first he was pretty damn pleased with himself for summoning a high level magical being like an animal shifter. A familiar’s magical ability was tied to a witch’s own magic, so the more powerful a witch, the more powerful the familiar. Moderately strong witches usually summoned beings like ravens, cats and snakes; all beings that are capable of magic. Kolivan himself had a large wolf, signifying considerable strength as a witch. Weaker witches usually summoned mice, toads or spiders; none of which are able to practice or hone their own magic, but are able to conduct magic. And the most powerful witches could summon magical beings such as phoenixes, pixies or even dragons.
However, there is a very specific reason as to why humanoid and sentient beings are paired with witches as familiars.
The five Great Lions who are responsible for all magic and subsequently all familiar summoning spells, are known to be quite the matchmakers. They pair those with great potential with another being who may guide them through their life. It is completely mutual as well as familiars are paired with witches who may cultivate and grow their magic. The Lions are rarely wrong, and when they are, there is a returning spell familiars may cast to break their bond. Afterwards, a witch may recast the summoning spell to try once more, or even never take up another familiar. But again, the amount of times such a spell has been cast could be counted on one hand as The Lions do not often make mistakes.
And in this case, they did not.
While their initial meeting and the following weeks were far from enjoyable, after an important bonding moment, things changed between them for the better. And as the months went by, Keith found himself unable to see a future without Lance; he trusted him with his life.
So he wasn’t worried about Lance’s ability to run the shop.
And it’s not even like this was the first time Lance had to man the front. The last time has been when Keith had accidentally nicked himself imbuing rattlesnake head snake venom into a dagger and the antidote he took made him too sleepy to work. He managed well on his own, and even doubled their usual amount of tips. He hadn’t even worked the whole day! In one afternoon he managed to rack up 100 gold pieces, filling the old mason jar until it overflowed!
It’s just… There's a reason Keith kept the doors open to the forge so he could keep an eye on him. There’s a reason he was so vehemently against that stupid sign.
And it was because… Because he was in love with his stupid cat boy familiar and didn’t want the whole world to know how Lance purrs whenever you scratch juuust right behind one of fluffy ears. ‘Cause that was his!!! That was only his to see and only his to cause!!!
The moments where Lance would drape himself over Keith’s lap or, Lions forbid, creep up next to his desk on his knees and whine and poke and prod until Keith accepted he was not getting any work done today. Those. Those were his. His to lock up inside his heart to use as fuel for the next tiring day. Those were his to melt over like molten ore, hot and heavy before taking a cold shower and still coming out hard.
It was his.
And Lance was his too, even if only as a familiar.
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The bells above the front door jingled and Lance sat up ramrod straight in his chair, tail stretched taut and ears perked high. His very first customer!!! It was time!!!
“Hi, welcome to The Blade! How can I- Hunk?!”
“Hey buddy, you in charge today?” Hunk asked, all smiley and smelling like freshly baked bread. He was his very best friend here in New Daibazaal! They’d met when he’d asked what kind of fish was in the taiyaki he had on sale. He learned it was only shaped like fish, but to appease his disappointment he let him have a cupcake on the house and ever since then they were inseparable.
“Yup!!! Keith’s busy with a big project so I’m basically incharge of the whole shop. Are you here to pick up that super extra strong butcher’s knife?” Lance presummed, having remembered Keith trying out it’s strength on a hunk (hehe) of wood only for it to split clean in half like he’d used an axe.
“You got it. Oh, and here’s my ID.” He slid over his pilot license over the counter for Lance to take. The Blade required proper ID to pick up and place orders just for safekeeping as many of the weapons they worked with were incredibly expensive. It also helped keep track of everything, especially if a person had multiple orders with them. Lance typed Hunk’s information into their holopad and pulled up his order number. It was stored in the front cubbies in 17A so Lance only had to turn around to get it. The knife was encased in their normal packaging; a dark violet box with a Mamorian seal printed on the top and center, referencing both Kolivan and Keith’s relation to the Mamorian Galras.
Lance placed the package atop the counter for Hunk. “Here you go! One dwarven ironsteel butcher’s knife! If you’re unhappy with your order you can bring it in for a full refund, valid for two movements.”
Hunk slid open the box to reveal a large butcher’s knife that fit his huge hands perfectly. He tested the weight and grinned when he found it to be satisfactory. “This should last me longer than those flimsy knives I usually work with! I might have to commission a full set at this rate. That is if it can cut through the Koilarg bones I plan on using for soup stock,” he grinned teasingly before slipping the knife back into its case.
“I’m sure it’ll work just fine!! Keith’s the best there is,” Lance beamed, chest puffing out a bit with pride. Even if he didn’t know much about actually forging weapons, he did know Keith took his craft very seriously. He’d spent vargas sharpening that very blade by hand before deeming it perfect.
Hunk chuckled in agreement and began to turn towards the tip jar, pausing as he took in the sign. His eyes lit up as he dug another two gold pieces from his wallet and dropped them in. “I mean, it is for such a good cause,” he teased.
“Thank you for your generosity!!” Lance cheered, already tipping his head forward, tail waving friendly behind him as Hunk reached over to run his massive but gentle hands through his hair and just behind his ears. Lance let out a happy meow as he scritched just the right spot.
“Aww, you really are just an overgrown house cat,” cooed Hunk as Lance leaned into his touch. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, pupils large and wide. Eventually Hunk had to pull away as all good things came to an end. “Alright buddy, I gotta get going. I’ll see you soon!”
Lance waved goodbye and found himself looking forward to the rest of the day.
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Keith was coping.
It helped that Hunk was their very first customer, easing him into the idea of Lance getting pets all day from people who weren’t him-
And there goes another pen.
He signs and wipes the ink on the side of his pants. They’re black anyway so it doesn’t matter. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t coping too well, he thought as he threw the third pen of the day into the trash bin. It hadn’t actually been too bad. All the customers had been very polite whenever petting Lance and kept it all above board without pushing anything. And while Lance looked to be enjoying himself, no one had managed to make Lance purr like Keith could. He preened at the thought of knowing only he knew all of Lance’s little spots.
The bells jingled once more and in stepped a vaguely familiar face.
Lotor was a hybrid just like himself but of Altean and Galran blood rather than Human and Galran. He was a pretty big deal since he was rumored to be descended from Zarkon himself. And while he wasn’t an actual prince, he was incharge of all trade between New Daibazaal and Altea City. It was odd to see him here though since he didn’t expect him to need a sword for his fancy desk job.
“Hello, I’m here to place an order,” he seemed to purr as he looked Lance over with a little more interest than Keith would have liked.
God fucking dammit.
“Okay! Tell me what you have in mind and I’ll provide you with an estimated price that covers labor and material” Lance cheerfully explained, ever so friendly. God dammit.
“I’d like to commission an Altea broadsword. I have the details here if you’d like.” He held up a folded piece of parchment.
“That’ll do! Now let’s see… What size are you looking for, sir? Given your height I’d assume a large?” Lance asked, innocently, having been taught to ask a customer’s preferred dimensions as they made weapons for all sorts of beings.
Lotor smirked, a flash of menacing glee in his eyes as he heard the innuendo that Lance didn’t. “Yes, a large would fit me just fine,” he spoke smoothly, as he leaned a hand on the counter. Keith felt himself bristle; something about another Galran trying something with Lance made him grind his teeth. He felt like a fucking caveman trying to ignore his stupid instincts telling him to get in a fist fight with whoever challenged his claim.
As if he had a claim on Lance.
Dammit! Another broken pen! He’s never gonna get this handle design done if he doesn’t calm down.
“Alright, and it says here you’d like to enchant the sword with Bane of Arthropods, Flame II and Mending?” He entered his preferences into the holopad and when Lotor confirmed he continued his questions. “It also says here that you wanted to use our Juniberry detailing for the pommel? And a violet chromium blade?”
“Yes, I’d like it to reflect both my Altean and Galran heritage. I’ve heard the weaponsmith here is also of mixed heritage. So I trust he’d be able to carry out my vision perfectly,” he explained, making Keith feel like a massive dick. Who was he to hate on a hybrid Galra who wanted a sick sword and maybe had a thing for cute cat boys? A hypocrite, that's who.
“Alright! The down payment to cover it comes out to around 15,000GP!” Lance answered after calculating the metal work cost, detailing and enchantments. Lotor nodded and without hesitating procured a black card from his wallet and swiped it on their reader. Damn, looks like Keith had another big order to take up after he finished the Luxite blade. A small ding signaled that the payment had gone through. “Perfect! I estimate that your order may take about a phoebe to make as my master is currently working on another big project. If you leave your address we’ll be able to contact you if the price changes or if there are any other updates.”
Lotor agreed to do so and while he typed in the information into their mailing system the galra caught his eye on the that stupid Lion forsaken sign. He could see just when he realized what it read as that shitty grin made its way onto his face once more. He took out his wallet again and dropped two GP into the jar which landed with a dooming plink. Lance looked up from the holopad and giggled. “I'll get that to you in a moment.”
“Please, take your time,” he encouraged.
He takes it back. Fuck this guy, even if it makes him a hypocrite.
Lance finished up with the data pad and put it down, leaning forward with his head bowed and his eyes peeking cutely up through his bangs. Lotto chuckled and raised a massive hand to his head. Gently, he carded his clawed fingers through his hair. Even though he was giant enough to probably palm half of Lance’s face, he still only gingerly rubbed behind his ears, dipping a claw in to scritch behin-
And Lance was purring.
Fuck. Shit. God dammit. He could practically feel the vibrations from here as Lance’s whole chest reverberated with happiness.
“What a good kitty,” Lotor coos as Lance leans unabashedly into his hand, rubbing his cheek into his palm, eyes closed in bliss. “So sweet. Ah, but I have other, less enjoyable business to attend to. I’ll see you later, Lance.”
And with that he pulls his hand away and the grip on Keith’s heart loosens enough for the jealous anger to fade away into shameful anger.
Lions, he pleaded to himself, grant me the strength to get through the day.
He looked back to see Lance still a little sleepy looking and Lotor smugly waving goodbye. He clenches the pen in his hand.
Or at least the self control to not commit manslaughter.
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He’d almost done it.
It was about half a varga until closing and Keith was finishing up the final blueprints. Once he was done he’d send over a copy to the customer and once approved he’d be able to start forging. And while he still is yet to finish the blade, at least now the design and enchanting runes are all ready. With all the prep he’s done today he should finish the blade within the pheobe.
With the shop close to closing time there were only a few customers in the shop perusing the goods laid out on various tables and shelves. At a glance, Keith could tell he had to stock up on shock arrows again. Damn. Those are a bitch to make but they sell like hot cakes. Just as he was about to consider getting back to work the door chimes again.
“Hi! Welcome to The Blade! How can I help you?” Lance greeted them warmly.
“We’re here to pick up a couple orders,” a tall, sleepy looking man responded with a sly smirk. Next to him a girl with high blonde pigtails nodded, her eyes racking down Lance’s torso.
Oblivious to their attention, Lance opened up the datapad. “Alright, can I see your IDs please?”
“Sure thing, kitty.”
Lions, Keith could barf. He could see Lance’s smile falter a little from here. He didn’t like being called those sorts of names by strangers; said it made him feel weird.
“Okay… Rolo and Nyma! Says here you’re here to pick up a dual set of machetes and a pair of nunchucks?” The girl he assumed to be Nyma nodded. “Perfect, let me just get that for you!”
Lance stood up and turned around to face the wall of cubbies behind the counter. He could see the gears turning in his head as he mapped out where the orders were stored. When he located it he bent down at the waist, silky chocolate brown tail high in the air and his shirt riding up. Both Nyma and Rolo shared a look that Keith did not like at all. Furiously he continued to sketch out a handle all the while keeping his ears trained on whatever those perverts had to say.
“Alright! Here you go!” Lance cheerily said as he handed over both boxes to their respective owners.
Rolo opened his up and whistled loudly as he studied the re-sharpened blade. The light glistened on the metal, complete with a slight purple sheen showing the mending enchantment Keith cast on it. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he grinned as he holstered the machetes on his belt. Keith didn’t bat an eye. Most people in new New Daibazaal carried some form of weapon on them.
Nyma was in silent awe of the strengthened metal chain on her nunchucks but after Rolo nudged her she simply threw them over her back.
“Is that all for today?” Lance asked, head tilted slightly.
“Mm, I can think of one more thing,” Nyma coyly responded as Rolo slipped four GP into the tip jar. Immediately Lance’s face lit up in excitement.
Now, Keith had sent the blueprints over several dobashes ago. Currently he was leaning on the doorframe that connected the forge to the main shop with his arms crossed keeping a close eye on Lance. Without anything to do with his hands he was stuck clenching them into fists and willing away his anger.
He watched as both Nyma and Rolo reached their grimy paws over the table and begin to pet behind Lance’s ears, bringing a happy little sigh from him as he leaned into their touch.
“Aww, what a cute kitty,” Nyma cooed as she slid a hand down to his cheek, rubbing a thumb against his skin affectionately. Lance let out a happy little purr/hum and Keith felt his heart ache a little.
“You also up for grabs, kitten?” Rolo teased, a bit of lecherous gaze creeping onto his face.
Lance shook his head slightly. “No, I already have a master.”
“You’re a familiar?” Nyma asked curiously. Lance nodded, clearly getting a little too caught up in their touch. His eyes were completely closed and his body was just slumped over in exhaustion from a full days of work.
“Shit, that doesn’t mean a thing to us. How about after your shift the three of us-“
Keith doesn’t even remember moving, but suddenly he’s slapping both arms off of Lance’s head. The cat boy simply leans against the desk and snuggles into his arms, too sleepy to stay awake.
Rolo and Nyma turn to him with twin annoyed looks.
“Hey man, what the fuck?” Rolo spat, as if he didn’t know what was up.
“We’re closing. It’s time for you to leave,” Keith says crossly. They were the only ones left in the shop and it was probably ten minutes to their actual closing time, but even if it had been only two minutes into the day he would have locked up just to get these creeps out.
Nyma rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you’re problem is but we were just-“
“Leaving. You were just leaving. Now get the fuck out before I have to ban you from my shop,” Keith growls, standing up a little straighter. He can feel himself shift a little as his claws come out to play. He’d bet good money his eyes were yellow now too. Both of them took a step back. Rolo put his hands up in surrender as Nyma turned towards the door.
“Lions man, I didn’t know it was like that” Rolo said in surprise, a bit of a taunting smile on his face.
“Let’s just go. I don’t wanna start a fight,” Nyma murmured to him as she started to drag them both towards the door. The second the door shut Keith moved to lock it. For good measure he flipped their “open” sign and shut the lights off to most of the shop.
Now alone, he felt the anger drain out of his body.
Lance was still sleeping away when he got back to the counter. Keith smiled to himself as he took in his prone form. His long tail was curled around his body and his face was buried in his arms, ears flickering a little in his sleep. Gingerly, he gathered him up in his arms.
“Huh? Keith? What happen?” Lance groggily asked, legs reflexively wrapping around his torso. As soon as he saw the shop was closed he relaxed back into his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his neck.
“You fell asleep at the counter. I closed up for you, don’t worry,” Keith lied as he began walking towards the staircase up to their living quarters above the shop. He’d usually count up their tips and at least sweep the floor before calling it a day but he could just do that in the morning.
“Oh. Sorry. What happened to Nyma and Rolo?”
Keith stiffened for a moment.
“Banned ‘em from the shop.”
Lance jolted in surprise. Nobody had ever been banned from the shop before. “What?!”
“Yeah. Caught ‘em trying to take something that was theirs to have,” he gruffly explained before opening Lance’s bedroom door with one hand.
“Y’know there’s a word for that,” Lance cheekily answered. Keith dumped him on his bed in response, earning a big 'oof' from the catboy.
“Yeah? What is it?” Keith asked, watching Lance get up to kick his shoes off and look through his dresser for pajamas.
“Thievery. Stealing. Burglary, even. Robbery, if you may. P-“
“Okay, I get it,” Keith groaned, smile still on his face.
“Yeah, well you need to get out so I can get changed,” Lance quipped back, arms now full of clothes. Keith nodded and moved towards the door. Just as he was about to shut it behind him Lance spoke softly.
“Goodnight, Keith.”
He smiled back at him.
“Night.”