Finals, Lance had decided, were the earthly manifestations of the devil himself. In his defense he'd never been much of an academically focused student, even with Hunk's constant attempts to tutor him. There were always so many things he'd rather be doing—who was he to deny his mind a healthy break or two?
"You do more 'mental health breaks' than you do actual studying," Pidge pointed out. It was true. Lance had no doubt that his ratio of study time to relaxation was horribly unbalanced.
"Relax, Pidge," Lance said as he stretched himself out across the bench, inhaling the smells of the market around him. He slung an arm around his friend, a lazy grin adorning his face. "You of all people need this break."
Pidge shrugged his arm off good-naturedly, though Lance could see it in her eyes that she was already starting to relax. He took the opportunity to let his eyes wander over to the real reason why he'd dragged Pidge out.
Across the crowded street, a tent was laid out with delicate bouquets of flowers. To say that they were beautiful would have been an understatement—the flowers were gorgeous—but Lance found more enjoyment in the face poking out of the floral arrangements.
Every Friday and Saturday for the past month since he first saw that face, Lance has been going to the market regularly. He'd weave his way through the crowds, glancing occasionally at the stands lining the streets, before casually settling down in the same bench. Some days Lance would pretend to be absorbed in a book, and others he'd drag out a friend or two to busy himself with. Regardless of who or what came with him to the market, he always found himself sitting on the same bench, staring at the man selling flowers.
"Lance, your gay is showing," Pidge snickered.
Lance felt his face heat up, and he huffed indignantly as he pretended to not be absorbed in that gorgeous face. "I'm bi, thank you very much," Lance haughtily informed her.
"Don't change the subject." Pidge's eyes shifted over to the man as she grinned. "Great choice though. Nice ass too."
"Pidge!"
"Relax," Pidge laughed. "I'm not stealing your man."
"First off, he is not my man," Lance said, his face bright red. "Secondly, how can even see his ass from here?" He decided to leave off the bit about him trying to get a look at it for weeks.
"It was a joke, Lance! Besides," she nudged him in the side, "you are so crushing on him right now."
Lance's face was an even brighter red than before, if that was possible. "Shut up, Pidge," he muttered.
There was a lull in the conversation, and Lance resisted the urge to start gaping at the flower guy again - he had a point to prove. If Lance even glanced at him, Pidge would be holding it over him for weeks. Of course, then Pidge would let the information spread, and then—
"Lance!" Pidge hissed. "You're staring again!"
Sure enough, Lance was lost in Flower Guy again. He buried his face in his hands, groaning.
"Oh my god, just go buy some flowers or something!"
"I-I'm broke," Lance lied, trying not to think about the change resting in his pocket.
Pidge skeptically raised an eyebrow, then shoved a hand into her pockets. It emerged again clutching a crumpled ten dollar bill. "There we go. No excuses. Now"—Pidge patted him on the head—"go get 'em, tiger!"
Lanced groaned, and his heart pounded as he took the money from Pidge. Hesitantly, he maneuvered through the masses, until he stood a mere several feet away from the flower stand. The man was just finishing up with a customer, a gorgeous young woman with flowing blonde hair. Lance's jealousy flared as the woman batted her eyelashes. The man hadn't detected her flirting yet, still busy producing the flowers from beneath the counter. He eventually stood up and handed her the beautifully arranged bouquet, and as he handed it over their fingers brushed. There, Lance could see him notice. The man's eyes flashed through a series of emotions as her hand lingered there a bit longer than necessary. Confusion, understanding, then a flurry of masked emotions that Lance couldn't decipher. Her flirty grin was met with an awkward smile as she handed over the cash.
"Thanks, Keith!" she purred, putting just a little too much swing into her hips as she began to saunter away.
"Anytime. Oh-" he called. She paused, failing to mask the look of excitement on her face. "Happy Pride Month!" He pulled out—Jesus—a mini gay pride flag and grinned.
Lance wished he had a camera to capture the priceless look on her face. Her grin vanished, and her jaw went slack. Lance couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled past his lips. The woman's eyes shifted over to him and she glared intensely. With a haughty sigh and bright red cheeks she stormed away.
Lance didn't stop himself from bursting into laughter. Keith gave him a half grin, and Lance's heart practically melted. He stuck out a hand.
"Name's Lance."
He took his hand and shook it. "Keith."
Instantly, Lance felt his calm demeanor melting away. Their hands were touching. Not even in an accidental brushing kind of way. Not in a romantic way either, but it was still a start.
If Keith saw him blush before he pulled himself together, he didn't show it. Lance stared at their hands before pulling away, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"So, uh, I was wondering if…"
"Yes?"
Lance was choking on his words. "Can I get some flowers?"
Keith blinked. Clearly, he was just a surprised by the words tumbling out of Lance's mouth as Lance himself was. "Uh, yeah, of course." There was some awkward silence as Keith shuffled around, before he produced another stunning bouquet with an equally heart-melting smile. "Here you go."
Lance smiled—a genuine smile, not a flirty kind—as Keith handed over the flowers.
"Can I ask who these are for?" Keith asked as Lance searched his pockets for the cash.
Lance frantically searched for an excuse. "A date?" It came out more as a question than an answer. There was an almost—almost—indiscernible change in Keith's expression, but Lance had spent enough time with people to catch it. There was a hint of disappointment in his face, and as Lance thought about what that meant, his heart fluttered.
"That is to say-" Lance cleared his throat and rubbed his neck before he offered the flowers to Keith. "Will you go out with me?"
Keith glanced at the flowers, then at Lance, and his face broke into a grin. "Yeah, that sounds good." He took the flowers and placed them in an empty vase on the stand beside him. From the depths of his pockets, he produced a napkin and scribbled his address on it. "Pick me up at 8?"
"Pick you up at 8!" Lance tucked the napkin away before he winked and sauntered away. By the look on Pidge's face, he knew he must have had a goofy grin on his face.
"Oh my god, you're totally in love with him," Pidge chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah," Lance laughed. She punched him good-naturedly with a smile as he checked the time on his phone. "Oh shoot, I gotta go get ready. Later Pidge!"
He was off in an instant, dashing down the street. Pidge watched from behind, shaking her head.
"Go get em', tiger."
