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The first time Keith had come across 'Coran's Café & Antiques', he had been ushered in from the winter rain by a tall, thin Australian gentleman with an impressive ginger moustache. The fact that this man was Coran himself didn't dawn on Keith until his third visit - he had been far too mesmerised by the interior of what looked to be a dusty old shop forgotten by the world during the 1920s from the outside. After he lowered the hood of his 'Mac in a Sac'™, he found himself in a utopia of antiquity.
Shelves upon shelves filled the room from floor to ceiling, brimming with relics of eras gone by. The tacky floral carpeting, and low lighting made the room feel smaller, somehow. Cozier. Through an archway at the end of the room, Keith could make out a dinky little seating area, complete with checked table cloths and floral centerpieces. A muscular young man with a shock of white hair falling on to his forehead and a long red scar across his face poured a cup of herbal tea for a young woman shrouded by her long silver hair. After the young couple exchanged pleasantries, Keith watched the man retreat through a curtain, catching a glimpse of another waiter: a shorter individual with large round bifocals, and a chef: a towering, stout man with a wide smile.
However, it was the cashier who really caught his attention. A tall, lean young man with an over-confident smirk and mischievous eyes that made Keith dizzy.
"Hey," He said with a crooked smile, looking Keith up and down. "I'm Lance. You've never been here before, have you?" Keith shook his head slowly, narrowing his eyes. "I didn't think so." Lance said. "I'd remember a face like that. Would you by chance by related to Jean Claude van DAYUM?"
To say that Keith was somewhat taken aback would be an understatement - he pulled up his hood again, turned around and walked right out of the shop again, into the pelting rain.
The second time Keith came across the shop, he was on a date. With a girl. Looking back, it was a confusing time in his life, but even after he realised he was gay, he didn't regret that night. It was one of those moments that would define the rest of his life, after sifting through all the bullshit that happened.
Her name was Ellen. A decent enough girl whom he wasn't even that interested in, for reasons that weren't clear to him at that time - they both just happened to be free that Sunday evening. The truth was, he had been afraid to go back go back to the antique store. He had been questioning himself for a while, and being faced with Lance's proposition so brazenly had alarmed him last time. But with Ellen, he felt bravery. She was like a shield, guarding him from rogue attacks of homosexual thoughts. She was a statuesque, bespectacled redhead, the type who would've pleased your parents, so long as your father wasn't intimidated by a woman taller than himself. Thankfully, fathers weren't a problem Keith had to concern himself with.
The biggest problem in Keith's life at that moment was Lance. He'd become obsessed with the shameless cashier, and his impish, hypnotic eyes. He hadn't returned to the store in over a month, and yet the man would not leave his mind.
And so, when Ellen claimed to be an antique collector, and a self-confessed 'history nerd', Keith could think of no better place to take her. While he took no active interest in antiquery, he enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by history - and the closest museum was over an hour away. And so, he took her for a coffee.
Unfortunately, Lance had recognised him immediately. As soon as the little bell rang hanging from the doorframe rang, Lance's head shot up so quickly, he considered suing Coran for whiplash. The mysterious mullet boy had finally returned, but he had brought with him a nasty little surprise that Lance didn't see coming in a million years. A girl. "Hey, hey!" He spluttered, trying to keep his cool. "If it isn't Optimus Fine. You left so quickly left time, I didn't catch your name."
Ellen entered the store behind Keith, bowing her head to get through the door. "Keith? Do you know this man?" She asked, reaching for his arm. Keith pursed his lips, and said nothing, staring at Lance coolly. In truth, he was afraid to speak. Or rather, he was afraid of the answer he'd give. "Um." Ellen said, "The café is through here, right?" She asked, pointing through the store.
Lance considered how he should reply. In truth, very few of his excuses for not seating them would be believable. He glanced over at the empty chairs. "We're all out." He said quickly.
"All out? All out of what?" Ellen asked, curling her arm around Keith's and interlocking their fingers.
"...Everything?" Lance said, panicking slightly. Thankfully, his friend Pidge was there to save him.
"Hi there, folks!" They said with a friendly, slightly strained smile. "If you want to take a seat in the back, we'll be with you shortly." Keith lead Ellen through the store, to a table closest to the window. She sat down with a sigh of relief, and attempted to initiate a conversation with Keith, with no avail. He replied to each question with a hum or a quick, vigorous nod, even if the question didn't match the response.
Finally, she gave up, excusing herself to use the bathroom. This was the moment Lance had been waiting for - no sooner than Ellen's fingertips brushed the bathroom door, Lance had parked himself in her chair, directly opposite Keith. "Listen," He said. "You're leading that poor girl on, and you know it." He slammed his fist on the table dramatically, hoping to fortify his point.
For the very first time, Keith spoke to Lance, defending his honour. "It's just a date." He mumbled, avoiding Lance's gaze. "Nothing serious."
"I know your secret." Lance said accusatorially, "You're not being honest with her, and you're not being honest with yourself."
"Excuse me?" Keith demanded, tensing his shoulders.
"Your Achilles' tendon... is your Achillean tendencies. So to speak."
"You mean my Achilles' heel." Keith corrected, before he could stop himself. Lance looked triumphant, and winked at Keith before sauntering off. The date continued mundanely. Keith was introduced to Shiro and Pidge, the waiters who served Ellen her coffee and cupcakes. When they had finished eating, Lance introduced the two of them to Allura, the girl Keith briefly encountered during his last visit, with hair the colour of moonlight. He learned that Allura was Coran's niece, and worked part time as a sale girl in exchange for free café goods. It seemed to Keith that Allura didn't need the money, judging by her regal stature and designer clothes. In the true fashion of dramatic irony, Keith bid them all farewell just as the chatty Australian arrived in the shop, and he wondered if he would ever meet the elusive Coran.
In less than a week, Keith returned to the antique store. He had set things straight with Ellen - or rather he didn't - and he was eager to update 'cute Lance from the antique store that he couldn't stop thinking about'. He wasn't sure why he found himself outside the shut-up shop at seven in the morning, but he felt it was the time and place to be.
But as it were, the store was not yet open. As Keith approached the thick wood door, he noted the hefty security system protecting the store, securing the treasures from the past from the outside world, and it's technological advancements.
"Oh-ho, my boy!" A voice said, catching Keith's attention. "Back again, are you? Can't get enough of the the ol' Coranic, huh?" Keith caught sight of the Australian man through the dusty pane of glass wedged into a hole in the door as a poor excuse for a window. It wouldn't've surprised Keith if the building itself was an antique. "We're closed on Wednesdays, actually! It's accounts day. Is there anyway I can help you?"
Keith thought it was almost too obvious, he found himself almost too dumbfounded to speak. "Y-You're Coran?" He stuttered.
"Well... yes! I'm here everyday! Who did you think I was?" Coran asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I... just thought you were really enthusiastic about antiques." Keith confessed. "But really, I'm here because I want to talk to Lance, your cashier - How can I find him?"
"Are you 'Keith'?" Coran asked, with a sudden change in tone. He spoke quicker, lower, as though this could change everything. Keith nodded, to which Coran quickly responded by unlocking the door, almost yelping, "Come in! Come in!"
"Lance left a note." Coran explained. "And sent me no less than seventeen emails. He said if a Keith shows up, I am to give him this." He presented Keith with a hastily scribbled note entitled 'For Keith', and embellished with shiny, red, cartoon heart doodles. What followed was certainly Lance's phone number. Keith could feel his heart beginning to rise into his throat - suddenly an idea fell on top of him like a chair being smashed over his head.
"Coran," Keith said slowly, "Can I have a look around the store? I want to buy something."
At eight in the morning, Lance heard his phone buzz violently. He reluctantly dragged himself out of bed, to check what meme Hunk had sent to the group chat at this ungodly hour of the morning. His bleary eyes widened in surprise, when instead he had received a text from an unsaved number.
'Hey - it's Keith from the store. Meet me in Altea park? '
He quickly screenshotted the text on his homescreen, and sent it to all his friends, captioning it: 'HAHAH GUESS WHO HAS A DATE YOU FUCKS!!!' accompanied by a string of emojis. Only Shiro was awake at that time in the morning, and he quickly replied with a message of congratulations and a ':D'. Then he replied to Keith, asking whereabouts in the park, what time, and if he should bring anything. As he got dressed, his phone buzzed again.
'By the biggest fountain. ASAP.' Keith had replied. Lance weighed up his options, and decided to reply with the octopus and thought bubble emojis: you octopi my thoughts. Keith did not reply again.
When Lance had almost arrived at the park, he received his reply from Hunk, who had no doubt rolled over and went back to sleep after he had sent his message: "GET IT BOI!!!" Lance chuckled to himself, and shoved his phone into his pocket as he spotted Keith tanding alone by the fountain, bundle in a red coat and a long black scarf. His hand flew into the air, waving like a window wiper as he ran towards the shivering lump with the mullet.
"I told her." Keith said, instead of a greeting. "I told her about my... Achillean tendencies." His mouth stretched into a grin, an unfamiliar motion.
"Nice!" Lance said. "As Achilles' tendons go, it's not so bad, huh?"
"Achilles' heel. And no, it's not." Keith corrected. "It's not my Achilles' heel anymore."
"So what i-"
"I got you something. It's from Coran's store." He said interrupting Lance's question. He stepped aside, revealing a small shopping bag he had hid behind his legs. Standing upright on the ground, it came to below Lance's knees. "Um. I hope this isn't awkward." Keith rambled, picking it up and handing it over. "It was only like five dollars, it was more about the... um... the gesture. It's not even especially old or, and it's pretty broken but... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for Lance to look inside the bag.
A small green box, almost disproportionately small compared with the bag. Inside the box was a bronze pocket watch, scratched and worn in places. Lance took the watch from the box carefully, cradling it in his arms. On the back, when he flipped it over, Lance saw that a scene had been engraved into the back of the watch. A battleground, with two men in the foreground. One lay on the ground, sprawled so dramatically across the watch that half his limbs were out of the frame. Another man learnt on top of him, presumably weeping over his dead body. Lance found himself enchanted by the watch, unable to look away. He opened the watch carefully, not that it mattered, for the hinges were already snapped. Inside, the watch had stopped running, stuck on quarter to nine. On the inverse on the cover, engraved in cursive was the phrase 'You're my Achilles' heel."
"Achilles and Patroclus." Keith explained. "Coran was telling me - well, I guess you already know what's up with Achilles and Patroclus. Some old dude brought it in to Coran, after his partner had died. It was hard to be around apparently. I don't know the full history behind this thing... and it is highly debated, Achilles' and Patroclus' whole deal, I know, but if it's good enough for them... it... um... there you go!"
"I love it." Lance whispered. He looked at Keith and smiled. "You're Achillean me here, dude." The other boy rolled his eyes, but smiled in spite of himself.
"So... do you... want to take this further?" He asked, watching Lance put away the watch. "I totally understand if-"
Lance reached for Keith's hand, and was surprised by how cold it was. The cool morning air clung to Keith's clothes and trembling fingertips, juxtaposing Lance's eternally piping hot skin. "I totally want to, you goober."He laughed, intertwining their fingers. Lance leaned closer to Keith, close enough to feel his breath on his face.
"Are you going to kiss me?" Keith asked, feeling his heart begin to race.
"As long as you want me to." Lance said, keeping his eyes fixed on Keith's. He tilted his head in further. Keith's head began to spin, he was finally kissing the man he had been thinking about all month thinking about.
"Hey," Lance said, breaking them apart. "So, we have this Achilles theme going, right? Is that like a set thing now? Because I have a few ideas for other Ancient Greek heroes we could use."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, tons." Lance said, fighting back a smile. "You... Odyssey them."
Once again, Keith pulled up his hood, turned and walked away. But this time, Lance followed him, laughing.
He knew in his heart, that he would follow Keith anywhere.