Say You Trust Me
a coffee shop au
Hey! This was written for tumblr user panwithadarkplan, who made me a cool Lance lockscreen! In return I wrote this, a bit of a spin on the classic Coffee Shop AU. Actually contains little to no amounts of coffee, go figure.
"Baristas smile at me because its their jobs." Keith repeated to himself as he pushed open the door to the small shop. His mouth twisted into it's typical pout, and he mentally chastisted himself.
Look happy for the really nice barista. Who smiles at you because it's his job.He took a deep breath, hoisting his laptop bag under his arm, and looked towards the menu. Not that he needed it, after all. He always got the same thing.
Hot chocolate.
Hunk always judged him a little for not liking coffee. Keith just wasn't a fan. And besides, it was good hot cocoa. Not just mixed up with a powder, it was made with actual chocolate chunks or something. He wasn't quite sure. But it was good.
"Hi, have you decided what to order?" the voice of the barista, in his aproned glory, a pen tucked behind his ear, called him back. Keith jumped a little, and stared at his shoes.
His name was Lance, and he was that kind of flawed flawless that poets and teen drama writers loved. Slightly messy brown hair, blue eyes. Eyebrows that arched like no tomorrow. Tanned and clear skin, save for a few blackheads across his nose. Being around him, Keith couldn't decide whether to hate Lance or himself more.
He cleared his throat. "Large hot cocoa, please."
The barista, with a happy hum, turned and began to pour a hot cocoa. "I don't mean to brag," he said, obviously bragging, "but our hot cocoa is the best. You know why that is..." he spun around, eyebrow cocked as he the held a marker to a cup.
"Keith." The black haired boy informed him.
"You know why that is, Keith?" He scribbled down an embellished 'for Keith' on the cup. "Love. I pour a lot of love into it."
Keith rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I'll take my cocoa with minimal love, thanks."
Lance laughed back at him. "Alright fine, its Abuela."
Memories of 4th grade Spanish floated hazily back to Keith. "Your Grandma?"
"No, no, it's a brand. It's the best hot chocolate around. And that's why it tastes so good." Lance started to pour a hot cocoa, but then stopped.
His smile spread into an impish grin, and he leaned over the counter to Keith. "Wanna try something a little different?"
Keith did not like change. He didn't like suprises, he did not like things that were different. He stammered out a "depends."
Lance leaned in further. His nose almost brushed Keith's, and Keith could feel his face coloring.
"Do you trust me?"
His blue eyes locked with Keith's. They were strange blue eyes - all the people with blue eyes that Keith had met, their eyes had been more grey, or more green. But his were bright blue.
In that moment, Keith felt like he couldn't hide anything from this boy.
"Sure."
The word broke the moment like a spell. Lance shot back over the counter, and cheerfully pumped a dispenser a few times, sending a dark syrup into Keith's hot chocolate.
Keith blinked.
"You trusted me." Lance reminded him, sliding the cocoa over the counter. "Go ahead."
He leaned his elbows on the counter, his chin in his hands. He watched Keith carefully.
Keith took a sip.
The hot chocolate was smooth and creamy, as he was expecting, but something else was there too. Almost... buttery? It tasted like Christmas, like a warm fireplace, what was it...
Cinnamon.
A smile stretched across his face. "There's Cinnamon in this," he stated. He wasn't sure why he said it though, of course Lance knew, he added it, for goodness sake.
Lance gave him a huge smile. "Yep! It's called snickerdoodle syrup, and it's the best thing ever." He leaned off his elbows and wiped the counter with a cloth. "Although, I've got some other flavors if you come back later."
Keith nodded. "Yeah, I'm here all the time."
Lance nodded. "I know." his face colored a little, and he ducked under the counter, pretending to shift around some k-cups. He didn't look up until he heard Keith's footsteps walking away from the counter.
Oh goodness.
-v-
His name was Keith, and he was the kind of soft punk that made mothers concerned - but just a little. Black hair that desperately called for a haircut, but somehow he pulled it off. Dark eyes that were somehow soft and piercing at the same time. A smirk instead of a smile, an oversized track jacket and a laptop bag. And somehow, a worried expression all the time.
Lance couldn't help but want to hold him. To give him a hug and tell him everything would be ok, and to try to smile more because his smile was so lovely. But instead, he would always go into customer service mode, with a huge smile and a sharpie, scribbling on cups and giving high reccomondations of frappes and lattes he had never even tried.
Yep. Sure way to tell a cute guy you're into him, drink recommendations.
But something changed, that day he asked that question. "Do you trust me?"
It was more than just a questions about a shot of syrup in a cup of cocoa, it was more than a scribbled "Keith" on a cup. It was the start of something.
"Do you trust me?"
"Tastes... like sugar? Kinda like a candy bar... caramel."
"Ready to trust me today, Keith?"
"I can smell that one already. Easy, peppermint."
"No way, I didn't know you could put coconut into hot cocoa."
"You trusted me, and I teach you many things."
"Orange? In hot cocoa?"
"Its like a jaffa cake!"
"What's a jaffa cake?"
"What's a jaffa cake?!"
"...I can't believe you bought me jaffa cakes."
"Well aren't they good?"
"...yeah."
-v-
Keith strolled into the Coffee shop, already searching for his favorite barista. What had replaced Lance was a poutier, off color version of him.
This Lance had a false smile, his blue eyes looking pained and upset.
"Lance, what's wrong?" Keith half ran up to the counter, nearly dropping his laptop bag.
Lance's voice was quiet and shaky. "Today's my last day. The company is laying off baristas."
Keith's brows furrowed. "No way! How could they do that, you're the best barista here!"
Lance laughed softly, and leaned on the counter, resting on his forearms. "Well, I mean, I'm headed across the country in a month anyway."
"What?"
Lance looked down at his sneakers. "I'm going back to school in the spring."
Keith felt his heart drop. For a moment, time seemed to slow. Tenderly, he reached for Lance's hand. They both seemed surprised when Lance's hand curled around his.
"I'm gonna miss you. A lot." Keith stammered. He could feel tears picking the corners of his eyes.
Lance looked at him, tears welling up as he gave him a smile. "Do you trust me? Can you, one last time?"
Keith nodded furiously.
Lance met his lips as he leaned over the counter
Fireworks went off inside the two of them, as soft lips connected. Neither of them moved, wanting the moment to last forever. As they finally broke for air, they stared at each other.
Lance broke the silence in the empty coffee shop. "I'm glad you trusted me."
Keith squeezed his hand. "I always did."