"What happened to my zinnias?!" The horrified shriek resounded all throughout the shop, along with the sounds of overdramatic gasping and falling to the ground.
"Lance, what the - " Pidge didn't even get to finish her question as Lance practically shoved a red flower into her face. She squawked, flailing her arms and almost tripping as she tried to rapidly back away from the boy who clearly didn't have any idea what personal space was.
"Look, Pidge, look!" Lance whined, waving the flower in front of her face.
"Fucking - I can't see, asshole!" Pidge hissed, finally managing to push Lance far enough away that she could actually focus on the flower. She scrutinized it, and saw that it was leaning just a little too far to the left - the stem was bent.
"Seriously?" Pidge groaned, pushing Lance's still waving hand away and trudging past him to check on the roses. "Lance, chill. It's only one flower."
Lance made a face, before pouting and trailing after his tiny coworker. "I like zinnias."
"Just go water the camellias," Pidge snapped, and despite her harsh tone, she was tending to the peach tulips with such a gentle touch that Lance felt himself relax.
"Yeah, okay, Pidgeon. You're lucky I love you so much," Lance cooed mockingly, ruffling her short hair as he rushed past and just barely avoiding the jabbing elbow sent his way. Laughing, Lance pushed past the door and caused the little bell to let out a sweet chime.
Lance grabbed the watering can - a small little thing that was painted a bright blue - and bent over slightly as he inspected the beds of flowers laying lazily in the midday sun.
They were all growing beautifully; the camellias especially, which were blooming fully and letting out a sweet aroma that buzzed around Lance pleasantly.
After watering every bed with a good amount of water, Lance grabbed the new flowers that had shipped in this morning, beautiful calla lilies. He grabbed his fork and spade, and bent down to his knees as he started digging beside the bunches of forget-me-nots.
When Lance worked like this, he often forgot himself and only focused on the constant rhythm of his movements. Stab, drag, dig, pat. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was soothing to him despite the fact it was laborious work - all he could feel was the sun on his back, the sweat dripping down his neck, and the sweet smell of flowers.
Halfway through planting the calla lilies, Lance straightened his back, groaning slightly as his spine cracked with protest. He blinked, and looked around him, sending smiles to passersbyes and waving. He felt especially happy whenever they waved back.
Just as he was about to return to his work, Lance caught the sight of someone on a red motorcycle start to slow down while in front of the shop. The person on the bike turned their head, and Lance couldn't see who they were because of the matching red helmet, and they were wearing the most ridiculous red cropped jacket, but he grinned and waved anyway.
The person jerked a little before a hand hesitantly came off of a handle and waved shyly back - Lance almost snorted when he saw the fingerless glove. What an emo, but it suited the person.
When Lance trailed back into the shop an hour later, finally finished with planting all the calla lilies, he forgot all about the stranger with the red bike.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"But I'm hungry," Lance whined, practically draping himself over the counter and pressing his cheek against the cool granite. Pidge snorted, hardly looking up from her computer as she sorted through the month's orders.
"Fine, we can go get something as soon as you finish these arrangements," Pidge ordered, sliding over the laptop so he could squint at the many orders filling up the screen. "It's January, you know that people start scrambling for us when they realize how close Valentine's Day is."
Lance huffed but straightened up, knowing what Pidge said was true - the closer February came, the more panicked loved ones got and desperately ordered flowers from them.
He started on an order, reading the required flowers and quickly pulling them together. Yellow daffodils, blue violets, jasmines, and gardenias. Lance couldn't help but coo as he tied it all together with a nice white ribbon - whoever this person was, they knew their flowers. It was such a romantic bouquet, not to mention how well the colors went together.
"Someone's in love," Pidge said, on her tip toes as she glances at Lance's bouquet.
"It's romantic!" Lance defends, sending the customer a mental good luck as he set the bouquet in a vase for pick up later.
The next hour or so was filled with the quiet rustles of the two florists as they arranged bouquet after bouquet, until eventually Pidge managed to finish the last one - red balsams and buttercups, a combination that made both of them wince - with a red ribbon.
"Time for food?" Lance asked, pushing the orders aside and slipping off his apron.
"Food," Pidge nodded, exhaustion also clear on her face as she practically threw off her apron and swiped up her car keys.
They both hurried to the back room, clicking off the lights and grabbing their bags. They turned off all the lights in the store and Lance locked the front door, tugging on the handle once to make sure it properly locked.
"There's a bakery down the street," Pidge said, tugging her jacket over her shoulders and waving her phone a little to show her search results of places to eat. "They have paninis and stuff there too, and also I need macarons right now."
Lance practically moaned at the thought of freshly made food, and so they set off, chattering and playfully arguing in the otherwise empty streets. It was fairly late, about nine in the afternoon, so most places were empty and only the street lights were on.
"I can't believe you're telling me Toph was a better character than Sokka - " Lance snapped, a pout forming.
"And I can't believe that you think anyone is better than Toph," Pidge scoffed back, and stopped in front of a building.
Lance blinked, not having realized that they had arrived. He raised his eyes to take in the full view and saw the name of the place - The Sweet Lioness. Lance's eyebrows rose at the name, but followed Pidge anyway as she opened the door and walked in.
"Hello?" Pidge called in what seemed like an empty shop. She made a face and pulled out her phone, frowning slightly. "Weird. I checked their page and it said that they were open until ten - "
"Yes! We're open," someone shouted from the back, and there was a resounding 'crash!' along with a different voice swearing "shit!" at the top of their lungs. "Language!" the first person shouted back, and a muffled "I hate this stupid counter!" spat back at them.
Lance and Pidge exchanged glances before muffling their snickers underneath their palms, and hovered near the doorway before finally the kitchen's door opened and a tall man stumbled out while wiping his hands on his pink apron. Lance almost fell to the floor laughing, because the man that had walked out was the exact opposite he was expecting - with a shock of white hair falling into his eyes and his shirt clearly bursting with muscle, the pink apron just offset everything and nearly reduced Lance to hysteric tears.
"Hi! Welcome, I'm Shiro," the man beamed, and oh my god, Lance thought, the guy looked like he could rip a table in half with his bare hands but he was an absolute marshmallow. "Sorry for the yelling - my brother can be clumsy. What can I get you?"
Pidge hummed, tugging on Lance's sleeve impatiently until he followed her and they walked over to the counter and display case. Lance peered at the large arrangements of desserts, eyes widening as he took in the sheer perfection of each one.
"Um, two chicken paninis, one black coffee, and one caramel macchiato. Lance, anything else?" Pidge asked, pinching Lance's arm so he yelped and glared at her.
"Yeah, uh," Lance pointed to some macarons. "A box of those, please."
Shiro smiled kindly and nodded. "You take coffee black?" He teasingly asked Pidge as she and Lance handed over the money.
"Like her soul."
"Like my soul." Pidge and Lance said in a monotone voice simultaneously.
Shiro burst into laughter, handing them the receipt with his shoulders shaking and his eyes filled with mirth. "One way to say it. It's just strange because I haven't ever met someone who could stand black coffee - my brother would rather 'jump out a window and eat a rat' before coming near the stuff."
"Your brother needs to fight me," Pidge grinned, giving a thank you as Shiro handed both her and Lance two steaming cups and a large paper bag.
"I'll hold you to that, he's a violent little thing," Shiro grinned. "Thank you for coming by! Please visit us again next time!"
"Will do," Lance smiled cheekily, sending his signature finger guns that caused Pidge to groan beside him. The two friends walked to the door, ready to leave and head home, but something caught Lance's eye at his peripheral vision.
At the window of the kitchen door, he could have seen something bright red and black; but when Lance turned his head in curiousity to see what it exactly was, there was nothing there. A strange feeling filled him - he was sure he had seen that shade of red before, but where? - but he shrugged it off and followed Pidge out the door.
Ten minutes later, back at their apartment, there was nothing but the sounds of overdramatic moans and sobbing.
"This is the greatest thing I've ever eaten," Pidge said tearfully, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk as she stuffed her face with colorful macarons.
"Save some for me!" Lance demanded, already half done with his panini and very tempted to start snacking on Pidge's as well.
"We need to go back there," Pidge muttered, shoving the half empty box of macarons towards Lance as he tossed her a panini.
It wasn't just the food that was excellent - but the coffee as well. Whoever brewed it, they sure knew their stuff. And the macarons. Dios mio, these macarons. They were absolutely perfect. Crispy on the outside, but when bitten, they became soft and chewy and easy to bite through. They were completely different than the ones they sell in that other bakery across town, where the macarons were tougher than leather and so sweet he nearly got cavities.
But these were sweet just the right amount, and the paninis had been so warm and well seasoned that Lance couldn't believe they never visited The Sweet Lioness before.
"I'm about to explode," Lance moaned, and despite the fact that he really did feel like he would explode, he had never felt more satisfied in his life. Happens when you only live off of instant noodles and take out 99% of the time.
"Bless that bakery," Pidge mumbled, and after ten minutes of just lazing around and digesting the food a little, both of them finally stood up and cleaned up a little.
That night, after a good steamy shower and his usual skin routine, Lance was settling into his blue covers before finally it hit him. That red.
"Pidge!"
The door to Pidge's room was banged open, and the small girl shrieked as her Netflix binge was interrupted. "Lance, what the actual fuck - "
"Pidge, that motorcycle dude bakes!"
"Get out of my damn room!"
XxXxXxXxXxX
Lance slumped in disappointment when he raised his head for the nth time, only to see the person racing past the store wasn't the one he wanted to see.
"You're being creepy," Pidge said in a matter-of-fact tone while trimming the thorns off of some roses.
Lance scowled, "that guy made those macarons, I know it, and I'm going to drag that recipe out of him even if it kills me."
Lance perked up but whined in frustration when he thought he saw a flash of red but it turned out to be the wrong shade on the wrong person. Okay, so maybe he was being just a little creepy - but he was curious! What kind of badass biker baked? And did such a good job at it, for that matter?
"Look, we can go visit during lunch, just please at least be useful and go outside," Pidge grumbled, setting aside the freshly dethorned roses and working on the next set. "The shipment of peonies are going to be here soon."
Lance rose an eyebrow before sighing and getting up. "Didn't we order those in three weeks ago?"
Pidge waved a lazy hand in his direction, now paying attention to the yellow iris in her hold. "Allura sent me an email. Got delayed cause of something…" she trailed off, now fully disinterested as she focused on bunching the iris with some petunias.
Lance sighed, but he let her be. Even if sometimes she tended to leave her sentences unfinished, Lance knew she didn't really mean to - when they both started this shop, Pidge had been anything but enthusiastic. In truth, Lance had roped her into it, and she had protested loudly, because she had believed flowers were "nothing but colorful leaves".
It was nice to see how much she grew, now tending to the tulips with a gentle touch and sometimes even cooing to the succulents when she thought Lance wasn't within earshot.
Lance lingered outside, and sure enough, the familiar van with the logo of Altea's Bountiful Gardens was driving up the street and slowing down in front of the shop.
He grinned, seeing a familiar mustached man climb out of the driver's seat and hold out a clipboard.
"Good morning, Coran, how ya been?" Lance said, quickly signing off the paperwork with his signature and handing back the pen to the orange haired man.
"Good morning to you as well, lad! And I've been doing quite well, thank you! Now let's see…" Coran shifted through the papers, his eyes lighting up in recognition before nodding to himself. He briskly walked off to the back of the van, opening the doors and releasing the aroma of dozens of flowers and the rainbow of colors.
"Let's see… Some peonies, am I right?" Coran said, climbing into the van and going deeper into the jungle of flowers.
"Yeah," Lance said, smiling as Coran grunted and carried an impressive amount of crates out of the truck. He set them on the ground, and sighed before straightening up with a bright grin.
"Well, here you are! Now I must get going, lots of flowers to pass around," Coran hummed, climbing into the driver's seat. "Have a good one, Lance!"
"See you," Lance waved, and stood there for a few moments as the van eventually left his line of sight.
Lance turned to the many crates of peonies now sitting there in front of the shop, and he frowned. Coran was really something - he could carry all of them at once, but Lance knew for a fact that they were incredibly heavy and way too much for Lance to even attempt to carry.
"Pidge!" Lance shouted, opening the door and listening to the chime of the bell as he stuck his head in.
"Marigolds!" She shouted back, shuffling noises coming from somewhere out of Lance's sight.
"Pidge!" Lance whined, trying one more time. "I can't carry these myself and you know it!"
"Fucking work out then!"
Grumbling, Lance went back outside, and stared at the many crates once more. He put his hands on his hips before letting them drop and sighing instead. This was going to take a while.
The first crate or two was okay - he did have some muscles, thank you Pidge, so they didn't strain him too much. But on the fourth crate he was starting to break out into a sweat.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck - " Lance hissed, nearly dropping it and almost crushing his foot. He set it down, breathing heavily, and looked around him. Maybe someone would be willing to help him, because he really did not want to do the rest of them on his own -
A bright flash of red caught his eye, and it was the guy again, the one he saw on the motorcycle and also the one he pretty sure saw in the bakery. Except this time, he wasn't on his bike, but just walking, and wow, he was the literal definition of broody emo.
He still had his dumb (attractive) red cropped jacket on, and from this distance, Lance could see his black hair - which, by the way, was so long it resembled a mullet. Lance would be mad if it wasn't for the fact that he found it almost adorable.
"Hey!" Lance shouted, hands wiping his aprons free of sweat and dirt. "Hey, mullet!"
The man paused, before he continued to walk.
He must have thought Lance was talking about someone else, but really, no one else had a mullet here. "Hey! Red! Mind helping me out a little?"
This time, the man did turn, and whoa - Lance could feel himself become a little starstruck. He couldn't see too clearly, since he was on the opposite sidewalk, but from what he could see, that man was a fucking god amongst men.
The man raised his hand awkwardly, pointing to himself in a "me?" motion.
Lance nodded and beckoned him.
The man hesitated before following, crossing the street quickly and making his way closer to Lance.
And Lance was not prepared - because as he came closer, his face became more clear, and yeah, this was one beautiful person. His eyes were such an incredible color, a swirl of both grey and purple, one that reminded Lance of stars and silver dust in space. His brows were slightly furrowed in a confused frown that was absolutely adorable, and his hair, despite being a crime to current hair trends, was devastatingly attractive on him.
Help me, god.
"You… You were talking to me, right?" The man asked hesitatingly, stopping just a meter short of Lance.
Lance nearly swooned, because wow, even his voice was attractive. Oh man, he really needed to get a grip.
"Yeah," Lance swallowed thickly before managing to (somewhat) pull himself together. "I'm Lance, by the way. Nice to meet you, mullet."
The man shook his hand, and Lance nearly giggled when he saw the fingerless gloves once more. Yeah, he definitely got the right person.
"Keith. And I don't have a mullet," Keith defended, his eyes sparking with a fire before being replaced with that shy veil once more.
Lance laughed, bending down to pick up a crate once more. "Sure, whatever, dude. It's totally a mullet though."
Keith seemed to struggle with something in his throat, before finally spitting out, "do you need help with that?"
Lance beamed. "Think you got enough muscles?"
Keith's eyes burned with a competitive flame once more, and a confident smirk pulled at his lips. Lance would have swooned - well he kinda still did - if not for the fact that his competitive side coming out. "I have more than you do."
And dear god, Keith did. He lifted a crate with ease, pushing the door open with his shoulder and then gently setting it down beside the other boxes waiting just a little past the counter.
Lance just happened to dart his eyes down at the last second, and his face went red, because shit this boy had curvy hips. His hands twitched, so he quickly picked up another crate to resist the temptation of just… reaching out and touching. Inwardly he sighed, watching as Keith loaded box after box into the shop, his breaths getting more laborious and his skin becoming damp with sweat.
He was so fucked.
"Hah…" Keith breathed, finally bringing in the last one and leaning against the counter in an attempt to give himself a breather. "Was that all of them?"
Lance let out an embarrassing squeak-like noise, because Keith looked like some kind of god leaning like that with his sharp eyes and heaving chest, before clearing his throat and saying throatily, "uh… yeah. Why?"
"Nothing." Keith's eyes glanced to the little clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, and said, "shit. I'm late for work."
Lance sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling guilty, because he had accidentally kept Keith from his job and it was all his fault. Pidge was right. He needed to work out so he can actually carry the stupid boxes on his own next time and not have to hold back pretty boys from going to their mcfreaking job -
" - et going."
"Huh? What?" Lance said, his eyes blinking rapidly as he was pulled out of the slowly degrading spiral and into reality. Keith looked at him in concern, and repeated his statement.
"I have to get going. Can't be late." Keith pushed himself off of the counter. "... Again."
Lance grinned, previous thoughts pushed out of his mind as he followed Keith to the door. "Again? And here I thought you were responsible, mullet."
Keith smiled - smiled! - and snapped back not unkindly, "shut up, stupid."
Their banter fell short, and the two boys stood.
And in that moment, Lance was hyperaware of his environment. The dreamy and heavy scent of floral swished around them, the only sounds being their breathing and Lance's thudding heartbeat. The still rising sun lazily emitted streams of light through the windows, and it hit Keith just right - he was glowing. His freckles, which Lance hadn't noticed until now because they were so faint, were lighting up like mini suns on his face and Lance could count individual one.
Lance felt himself move just a little closer, really only an inch, because his heart was twisting and his mouth was starting to move without even really thinking about what he was about to say -
"LANCE! DID YOU GET THE PEONIES IN?"
They both jumped, suddenly startled out of the whatever-they-were-just-having moment. Lance, feeling a furious blush on his cheeks from both embarrassment and endearment, shouted back, "Yeah, I got them!"
There was no response, and after waiting a few more seconds, Lance faced forward once more.
Keith was staring at the ground, his ears steadily growing pink and the uncertain shyness back on his face once more.
"Um… I'm going to work," Keith muttered, and shuffled backwards, not once looking up as he bumped into the door and caused the little bell to ring its sweet chime.
"Yeah," Lance breathed, scratching the back of his neck because never before had he felt so out of place and awkward when moments before they were like the only two in the tiny little shop. Of course, Pidge had to ruin it, Lance thought with a scowl. Definite revenge was in the near future for her.
"See you, Lance," Keith finally uttered, and he looked up, sending Lance the quickest of smiles before slipping out the door and hastily walking away.
Lance stood there, a little stunned, half in love, and completely silent for at least five minutes.
Until he blinked. Wait. He forgot to ask if Keith worked at The Sweet Lioness! Well, that put his first plan to a complete bust. He could always just ask him the next time he saw him, or maybe he could even go during his lunch break and casually ask Shiro if Keith worked there -
"You and loverboy about done?"
A familiar ginger gremlin poked her head out of the back door, her shit eating grin on her face and her eyes practically screaming mischief.
"You gremlin!" Lance shouted, reacting immediately as he grabbed the nearest thing - a spray bottle of water - and started to run towards a snickering Pidge. "You ruined our bonding moment!"
"Bonding? Is that what you kids call it now these days?"
"I'm older than you!"
XxXxXxXxXxX
Hello, lovelies!
It's been a while, I know, but I'm back x3 and with a klance fic, too!
Updates will be more consistent (I hope) with this story, so look out for the next chapter!
And if you want to, follow me at my tumblr, where my handle is redyarns! Fangirl with me about klance or come ask me about anything you're curious about!