A/N: ahha. heyy. this story is a bit choppy/writing style is a bit different because I wanted to try something new and I wanted to get another work out there!

enjoy~

"Sorry, Keith I gotta take a break-" Lance leaned against the doorway.

Keith replied with a short "Ok." without looking back, accepting change from a customer.

When Keith finally took a quick glance behind him, Lance had already left into the break room. A girl came to the counter, talking on her phone. Keith rolled his eyes whist huffing, he still had fifteen other people to serve.

Lance shut the door of the employee's break room, the lights were off. He didn't turn them on. Lance fumbled his way in the dark and found the couch and laid down in the cool break room.

He whimpered, holding his head in response to the jostle of laying down on the couch.

It was another busy day at work. The migraines that always plagued him day in and day out decided that today was a great day to show up full force. It was a busy day but he knew all his other co-workers would hate him if he called in about being sick from a headache "again". He knew they were talking with each other about him faking it.

The quick looks and suddenly ending the conversation when he walked in was a sample enough of this.

The headaches make him nauseous and well...barely functioning. They made his whole world tilt on edge and being in a good mood impossible. He knew he got really mellowed out and unresponsive.

Not snappy or his usual sarcastic self but just...pitiful.

He was pitiful now in the break room, groaning into his hands and forcing himself up.

Tired.

Tired was the word to describe the sensation.

He got up to combat this and turned on the light; Lance winced at the brightness.

But he went to the locker-room section in the break room and took out his essential oils to get more energy or something. He put a drop on his wrist and rubbed it into the other. He smelt it and felt calmer. Then he took 2 strong pain medications-hoping they wouldn't make him too shaky and downed half a liter of water.

Now that he was feeling /not as shit/ he ventured out of the break room, more air in his lungs; his eyes weren't stinging as much.

At first glance it looked really busy but at second glance it didn't look as bad.

There were at least five-maybe ten customers in the line. It looked like the lunch rush was going to be longer than usual.

Keith was sweating lightly and looked to be very stressed.

So against his lingering ache in his head, he told his co-worker, "Keith I got the rest of it, take a break."

Keith turned around, grateful but slightly annoyed.

"You sure?"

Lance ignored Keith's attitude. He knew what Keith was thinking: Lance was being lazy. Lance was just slacking off. Lance sucks.

"Go take a break." He insisted, booting him out, "Come on."

"Sure. Okay. Mhm." Keith took off his apron.

"Fine." Lance said in response to this.

000000

Lance was lying down on a grassy hill behind where he worked: Desire the Coffee.

His eyes closed, the dim sunlight filtered through his eye lids. He was so tired that he hadn't even taken off the apron he wore to work. There were coffee stains on the apron to save his clothes underneath, a plain blue cotton shirt and loose navy blue jeans.

The day was complete shit. Keith ignored him intenser than usual right after he took a break which wasn't his fault.

No banter, not even their inside jokes during the shift. It was just five hours of complete silence and "here" and "okay".

Keith really messed with his mind. He liked him so much even though Keith acted so cold towards Lance sometimes.

He was tired. Tired of thinking of if Keith even liked him or not. Tired from working. Tired of his constant battle with his headaches.

Before Lance knew it, he fell asleep.

And woke to stars.

Lance breathed in, "Wow."

It was amazing seeing all the stars, splayed out in an endless sky of beauty. He felt relieved.

Lance was glad that his bad feelings dissolved from a simple accidental sleep. Lance checked his pockets and was glad that he didn't get robbed. But when looking in his pockets he found a slip of paper he didn't remember putting there.

Lance blinked.

A number?

He felt blush creep up on his cheeks.

Oh. No. Keith's name was on it. Maybe he wished on a start accidentally?

He sat up and was confused because for once….his head didn't hurt.

00000

Lance was walking home.

It felt longer than usual underneath all the stars and the half moon.

He felt weirdly rested.

When Lance got home he could feel the weight of the small slip of paper in his pocket, heavy as stone.

He checked his face in the mirror and walked past it. He stopped in his steps and did a backtrack.

The world was sometimes unkind but odd.

Lance had cat whiskers and nose drawn on his face.

He cleaned his face.

000000

"You would never guess what I did to this guy yesterday." Pidge said.

The two advanced up in the line.

"What." Hunk pursed his lips together, looking to his friend quizzically.

"I put cat whiskers on a guy's face next to this coffee shop yesterday."

"Why?" He asked.

"You cant fall asleep next to a coffee shop and NOT do that. " Pidge laughed but stopped when she saw the serious expression of the coffee worker...that looked quite familiar.

"That was me. I work here. I was the guy that had to wash that off with bleach." Lance dead panned.

"Oop-" Pidge took a sharp inhale and looked to her friend, Hunk for help.

"I would like a double shot espresso with soy." Hunk said to the worker.

"Name?"

"Hunk."

"Ok..." Lance played along, "And what about your friend?"

"Vanilla coffee please."

"Name?" Lance smiled to Hunk charmingly.

"Dumbass." Hunk said with a straight face.

"Ok. Thank you." Lance wrote down their orders, "That will be seven dollars even. Would you like to leave a tip?"

"Yes. Keep the change." Hunk slid a twenty over the counter.

"Two orders for Hunk and Dumbass!" Lance yelled to his coworker then turned to the two customers, "It will be ready in a couple of minutes. Thank you."

"Thanks." Hunk nodded and steered Pidge to the waiting area.

"Oh my god you just saved my ass- Holy fresh heck in the frickin-" She made a noise after this.

"Woah." Hunk smiled easily like he did this everyday, "Language."

"Whoops. Sorry." Pidge laughed.

00000000

It was the end of their shift at Desire the Coffee.

Lance was holding his head, tears streaming down his face.

He had just went to the bathroom and suddenly it just hurt.

It was the same thing that plagued him, made his moods worse, made it so he could barely function, and overall depleted his quality of life. He hated it. He hated his headaches that had been bothering him since high school. It hurt way too much not to mention finding the cat whisker 'do-er' the very next day.

Life was just confusing.

Lance let out a small sob, trying to be quiet in the small restroom.

A knock on the door and Lance opened it, trying not to draw attention to himself.

"Lance?"

"Keith?"

"What are you doing in here, we gotta do sweeping and mopping and doing it together is faster."

Keith started walking to the main area.

"Yea sorry." Lance apologized, "I'm coming right away. Wait? Hey."

Keith turned around, "Yea?"

"Do you wanna have a sleepover?" Lance asked.

"Me?" Keith questioned.

000000

Some time later Lance woke up with a soft groan and rolled over on the bed. Keith was lying next to him. He felt something in his chest, so sure for this boy. It was ever since he took his eyes off a babe with high heels and short-shorts that he was blown away by a different beauty.

It was Keith.

With a job application to apply to his work place.

His beauty was so amazing and simple. And here he was, his beauty magnified and so raw in the form of himself.

When he started to get up, the thoughts of Keith was not in his head but the familiar mind-numbing plaguing headache.

Lance leaned back into the bed, eyes screwed shut. Pangs were coursing now in an even rhythm. Did he eat something weird or is it the weather this time?

"Ow."

Lance knew it was going to hurt even more if he moved.

So he didn't.

Now he knew he had to take Pidge's advice and just go see a doctor. The way he met Pidge was a headache in it himself but she gave good medical advice for his head. He sometimes hung out with her but never talked about why she drew a cat face on his that fateful day.

Lance put his hands on his eyes, pressing them in, rolling over and facing away from Keith.

"Lance?" It was Keith.

His voice was softly calling Lance again.

Lance crunched into a ball, insides nervous.

"Lance what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lance sounded weak.

He hated it. Especially in front of his long time crush/rival/companion/coworker/sleep over buddy.

Lance eased up the tension he was pressing into his eyes to not scare Keith and honestly he was starting to scare himself. Lance turned around to face Keith and put on a big smile.

"Nothing is wrong."

"Bull.

"Seriously."

"Shit." Keith finished.

"Keith I am completel-" Lance bit back a cry of pain and held the side of his head, Keith gasping in a soft: "Oh."

"Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"It's fine. I have medication that I am suppose to take every morning but I guess I slept in. Ah."

"I'll go get it." Keith seemed to spring out of bed.

"Oh." Was confused at the gesture but nodded at this, "It's all the way to the left of the right cabinet in the bathroom. Thanks."

"Your very much welcome pretty boy." Keith said and strode out of the room.

Pretty...boy?

Lance was blushing hard and even harder when Keith came back with the right meds.

They didn't hate each other anymore but they surely didn't like each other...right?

Lance was never sure.