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Keith sat on the bench, his foot tapping absentmindedly against the concrete.
His favorite place, Altea Parks, was mostly empty except for a few quiet people like himself. Similarly, his favorite bench was a mostly quiet space as well. It overlooked a large lake, where Keith could sit and sketch any animals he saw. Whether it was geese, frogs, or fish, Keith loved it.
One thing he didn’t like, however, were the people.
Anyone who tried to make conversation with him was promptly ignored. He wasn’t a jackass, though. If someone was asking for directions or asking him to take a photo, he would oblige. But, if they wanted to engage in small talk, he refused.
Which is how he found himself here, sketching away while this loud mouthed idiot continued talking next to him.
“...And I was like, duh, because she should’ve known! Ya know?” The man rambled, not bothering to stop for Keith to answer. Not that he wanted to. “And it’s crazy because she was my childhood friend and she was my girlfriend but now she isn’t! Ya know?”
No. He didn’t know.
“Ugh, sometimes I wonder why women are so difficult ! Like, I take one on a nice date, we have a good chat, and I put on my best cologne! But I don’t get a call back. I bet you get any girl you want.”
Keith is gay. Incredibly gay.
“With that stupid mullet… oh, wait, maybe it’s because I hate cats…”
That got Keith’s attention.
“You hate cats??” He whispered in shock, not meaning to say it so quietly. Like this man just told him some kind of deep secret and Keith couldn’t believe it.
“Woah,.” The man laughed, brushing some of his unruly brown hair back. Maybe Keith should have kept his mouth shut. “Is that so crazy?”
“Um,” Keith’s face flushed slightly. There goes his rule about not speaking. “Yes.”
“Why?” He pried, interest sparking in his eyes.
“I’m not against dogs, per say,” Keith clarified “but cat’s are just… better?”
The man laughed. “Don’t let Zipper hear you say that. She’d go crazy !”
Keith raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
Both men stared at each other for a few moments before the tanned man began to grin. Keith’s face flushed again, more embarrassed than before flooding his cheeks.
“My dog. Let me guess, you weren’t listening to my story before?”
If Keith was being honest, the man had a really nice voice. It felt just rapsy enough to send shivers down his spine, but calming and soothing enough to pull Keith into talking more.
“No.” Keith answers truthfully, unconsciously leaning closer to the man who sat behind him on the bench. His sketchbook was left forgotten in his lap, letting the man fill his vision instead. “I was distracted by you.”
The man turned towards him completely as well, his blue ocean eyes darkening as he took a deep breath and scanned Keith from top to bottom. Keith’s fingers anxiously messed with his ponytail, feeling a soft blush crawling up his neck.
“Yeah?” His voice grew deeper, and Keith’s poor gay heart couldn’t take it. “Let me start from the beginning. The name’s Lance. You?”
Lance .
“Keith.” He extended his hand, eyes darting down to Lance’s hand as he took Keith’s within his own and shook it.
The tension in the air only grew as the two men-- Keith and Lance. God, that name made his heart feel like butter-- stared at each other, neither letting go of their clasped hands.
Both of them suddenly froze in place at the noise erupting from Lance’s pocket. It was Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance.
Of course it is . Keith thought as he tucked his hand back into his jacket pocket and looked out onto the lake as Lance answered the call.
“Sí, mamà. Jaja, no, no... ¿Què? ¡Mamà! Sí, hay una persona a mi lado. Es muy lindo.” Lance blushed slightly, turning his body away from Keith. “Callate…”
Keith didn’t understand Spanish. He had wanted to learn, but never got the chance. Shiro always said he couldve learn in highschool if he didn’t drop out.
He heard Lance sigh next to him, standing from the bench and stretching his back. “Welp, I gotta roll out. Mamà needs me.”
“Alright.” Keith replied, trying his best not to look upset. He turned his focus back to the lake, but noticed Lance shuffling awkwardly in his peripheral vision.
“So, uh,” Lance started, looking up to the sky and muttering something under his breath. “Can I have your number?”
Keith stared, flabbergasted.
“My number??”
“Yes! Please… Unless you don’t want to!”
“For what?”
“Texting you?? What else!”
“I thought you were straight??”
“Just!” Lance took a deep breath, calming down. “Just enter the number. Please. This is mortifying having to explain this to a cute guy’s face.”
“I’m--!” Keith started, but quickly lost his train of thought as the sight before him sunk in. Here this man was, Lance, handing his phone over with his eyes closed from embarrassment. His blush accentuated the freckles that traced his cheeks, and his curly brown hair stuck ever so slightly to his sweating forehead.
Keith quickly grabbed the phone from his hand. Lance looked surprised.
He shoved it back, causing Lance to fumble and almost drop it.
“Send me a photo of your dog.”
Lance took the phone, a smile slowly appearing on his face before he burst with joy. “Okay! Got it! I’ll text you! Yeah! Okay so.. See you around, mullet!”
“Don’t call me that!”
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