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Keith's not the healthiest guy on the planet. Sure, he forgets to eat a few meals here and there. And the meals he does eat aren't the best. Although, he never forgets about coffee.
He loves the bitter drink more than anything else and Shiro's breathing down his neck to cut back. Keith hadn't listened to Shiro's warning when he had said he'd get him banned from the Starbucks conveniently across the street from his apartment.
So now he has to walk a couple of blocks to get coffee, from a small shop he's never even seen before. The thing he notices when he walks in is that it smells the opposite way coffee tastes: sweet.
The shop is homey. It's small, but has a cozy feel to it. He takes in the hand made crafts along the walls, the mismatching chairs and tables. Everything about this place screams family and Keith pulls at his shirt uncomfortably.
There's a small thump and Keith turns. A boy about his age is at the display by the window, his back to Keith as he bends down to pick up a box.
Keith's eyes unintentionally find the guys ass and he clears his throat, cheeks burning red.
The guy turns, a steak of white running across his cheek. He smiles and Keith tries to fight the blush back under.
"Hi! You ready to order?"
"Um," Keith nods lamely. "Yeah. Just uh, a large coffee. Black."
"Ooh, tough guy."
"What?"
The guy, who's pegged as Lance from the pin on his apron, shakes his head as he heads for the cash register. "Nothing, don't worry about it.
Keith pays and waits for his coffee, watching as Lance pours it into a small cup. He seals it with a lid and hands it to Keith with a smile.
"Enjoy."
"You too.
Keith sucks in a breath and Lance laughs. Humiliated, he ducks his head and makes a beeline for the door.
___
Keith's dying. Not actually dying, but he hasn't had coffee for a week. He could've bought some from the store and made his own, but he's terrible at making coffee.
So he goes back to the small cafe. Lance is there again and he greets him upon arrival. Keith nods, mumbling his order: a large black coffee.
Keith pays, Lance pours his coffee. And when he hands it to Keith, he takes the cup and Lance grins playfully.
"Enjoy."
Keith's not going to say it. He's not- "You too."
Lance, one again, laughs. Keith, once again, ducks his head and rushed for the door.
_____
Keith's back the next day determined not to embarrass himself in front of the cute cashier again. He knows how it'll go down once he's inside.
He'll order his coffee, pay, watching Lance pour him a cup. He'll hand it to him with an adorable grin and tell him to enjoy, and Keith will say thank you, and not you too.
Keith pushes open the door a little too hard and it slams against the wall. Lance jumps from the counter, head whirling around at the sudden noise.
Lance watches as Keith grabs the door with both hands, carefully closing it and turns. When he meets Lance's eyes he burns brighter than he had been before.
Great, Keith thinks to himself as he hesitantly approaches Lance. So much for not embarrassing myself.
"Let me guess," Lance says when Keith gets to the register. "Large black coffee?"
Keith nods and hands him the money mutely. His plan had failed and he's barley on step four.
Lance pours him the coffee, seals it, and places the cup onto the counter.
Keith knows what he's going to say, because he's said it those times before. And he'll be cool about his reply. He'll make sure that he won't humiliate himself.
"You're blushing."
Keith's mouth moves before he processes Lances words. "Thanks."
Crap.
"I-I mean," Keith sputters, taking the coffee and bites his lip. "Um, I'm.. sorry?"
"Sorry?" Lance says. "Dude, the only reason you should be sorry is for not texting me."
Keith blinks. "What?"
"I wrote my number on the coffee cup the last time you came in. And the time before that. Right now, too."
Keith looks at the cup and squints. Lance's chicken scratch shows on the side. "Oh. I thought that was a part of the cups design. I mean, they don't even look like numbers because of how messy they are."
Keith hears himself swallow as he looks at Lance, who's struggling to stop himself from smiling.
"Well, how about this. You give me your number then?"
Keith nods as Lance pulls out his phone. He nervously takes it, praying that he won't drop the thing as he taps in his number. God, he hopes he's getting the numbers right.
"Your names Keith?" Lance takes his phone back and Keith nods. "I like it."
"Thanks," Keith backs away to the door. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. See you tomor-"
Keith's already out of the door, cringing when it slams shut behind him.