WHO: Lance & Keith WHEN: Early last week WHERE: The main shops around Tumbleweed WHAT: Lance finds Starbucks, Keith gets an idea. WARNINGS: None!
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There were two things in Lance’s hands at that moment, and, shockingly, neither was his phone. In his right: a blank application for a job. In his left: a cold-brew coffee that cost way more than cold burnt bean water ever should. Both were not things that he’d gone into Starbucks with. Both were currently being admired with a hopeful sort of daydream-y smile as he and Keith finally broke away from the small shop.
“Okay, not to jinx it, but I think I know my calling here. And I think fate put us in this town to make sure I heard it,” Lance started. He glanced over at Keith, his smile turning into a grin. “Did you see how many girls were in there? I bet they go there everyday. Everyday, Keith.”
Lance raised his drink for a sip through the straw. “Besides, a little extra cash would go a long way. I need to expand my wardrobe to impress.”
“And to think, you wasted all that time in the Garrison,” Keith deadpanned as he kept his attention on the sidewalk in front of him. Lance getting like this was draining anyways, but he’d been going full-tilt non-stop since they’d spotted the coffee shop. Or well, since Lance had spotted it and the clientele it seemed to be drawing. Keith wasn’t sure if this reason for applying was better or worse than Lance wanting discounts on products. Ok, no, no, it was worse. “They do make up half the population. They were bound to show up eventually.”
“Yeah, but,” Lance started, although he paused to try and fold up the application with one hand. “But, how many were actually at the Garrison? I mean, the place was a desert and the oasis was… you know, whenever we got a break from classes. If Iverson wasn’t on a tear.”
Finally, Lance managed to fold the paper in half. He swung his backpack around and fumbled open the zipper. “Besides, yo hablo español. I’ve got this one in the bag, easy,” he finished. The application was shoved into the bag and Lance looked up to Keith with his steady smile still going. Keith, on the other hand, looked like he couldn’t be any less engaged.
“You would’ve had a better time in there if you at least tried out a drink, man,” Lance added.
“Probably more than you think,” Keith pointed out, his eyebrows raising as he actually glanced over at Lance. “Your observation skills seem to have trouble with those uniforms. Who knows how much more of your class was actually girls without you realizing it.”
He shook his head as he waved a hand at Lance’s drink. “If I’m going to have to decipher a menu, I want something more than what we’ve got at home. What did you even get and why is it a grande?”
Lance was quick to wave the retort off with a fluttery little hand gesture. “Pidge fooled everyone for a while, okay? Besides, I wasn’t… I wasn’t checking Pidge out, so…” He jutted out his lower lip in a slight pout, but lifted his coffee for another sip to mask most of it.
“It’s cold-brew coffee, and grande is the size. What were you even doing in there while I was ordering? Staring at the floor and thinking about our instant coffee at home? Because I’m pretty sure that’s just ground up cardboard. This stuff…” Lance held out the cup. “This is good stuff. Try it. Seriously.”
While Keith wouldn’t want to wish Lance’s variety of checking out on anyone, he was slightly disappointed that he’d never tried it with Pidge. If just because of the punch Pidge inevitably would’ve given him. Possibly a nose breaker. Most likely a nose breaker. And only that if Lance was lucky.
He let it drop though if just because… well… Lance not cooing over girls was always a good thing. He eyed the offered coffee warily. Mainly because Lance was actually offering and not doing a ‘too bad, so sad, this is mine’ sort of thing. After a moment, he took the cup as he rolled his eyes. “I was reading the menu,” he said defensively before he took a sip. Ok, he had to admit, it tasted better than the stuff they had at home, but… “Why grande though? What’s wrong with just medium?” He frowned as he looked at the cup. “Or is this large?”
Lance threw his shoulders upward into a big shrug. “It’s a medium in fancy coffee talk, I don’t know.” He hadn’t questioned it. The board said grande, so grande it was. It had to make sense to someone. Besides, if he wanted to work there, it would have to start making sense to him, too.
“So? Verdict?” Lance peered over at Keith. The other paladin hadn’t said anything about the drink, which probably meant resignation to Lance being right.
Keith puffed out a sigh as he kept inspecting the cup before just filing it away as another one of those things he would likely never understand. It’d be different if they were in a different country or on another planet, but just making up sizes for the sake of… he wasn’t even sure what… sounded more like a hassle than a good thing.
He shot another glance over at Lance, the slight pout speaking enough about the other boy being right in his assessment, even if Keith didn’t want to admit it. So, instead, he took another sip before shrugging and turning his attention back to the sidewalk and cars they were passing. “It’s ok.”
Lance’s brows lifted slightly at the underwhelming response, but he took the cup back and shook his head. “One of these days, you’ll actually get excited about something that isn’t… knives or…” A hand was waved around as Lance tried to think of something else. “Pointy things.”
The same hand was shoved into a pocket as they continued to walk. There was a used car dealership near the end of the block, but Lance only gave it a half glance. No doubt most of the parking lot would be way above their means without actually having jobs.
Keith threw his hands up, which was easier considering the cup had been snatched from his hand. “It’s coffee,” he huffed, as if that was explanation enough on the lack of enthusiasm. “Not everyone gets as excited about as you do.”
His head turning as they passed the used car dealership, his steps slowed. He was perfectly ok to let Lance keep whatever assumptions he had about what his interests were. After all, countering it would either mean then having to supply the other boy with things he did like or having to explain that it wasn’t all knives and pointy things. Neither topic appealed to him right now, especially when…
Pausing, his fingers lightly traced over the red truck before shifting to check out the specs taped to the window. When he’d first gotten to Tumbleweed, he’d been thinking of getting something. A way to travel that didn’t require tickets for vehicles other people owned. Back then, motorcycles fit that calling. Speedy. Adaptable. The closest he could get here to what he had at home. But now… Sure, they had managed to get all five of them on his Speeder, but while a motorcycle fit all the other requirements of his Speeder, it definitely couldn’t hold five. Maybe one other if you didn’t mind getting cozy, but not the team. A car would be better for that…
Lance took a loud slurp from the straw as his own response, eyes somewhat narrowed at Keith’s retort. Honestly, half the time, he wasn’t even sure why they ended up throwing accusations around. Lance rationally knew that coffee wasn’t much of a thing worth getting annoyed over. And yet…
A few more steps were taken with Lance fixing his gaze down at the pavement, brow set heavy and expression closed. He didn’t notice that Keith had stopped walking until felt the other teenager’s absence a good few feet down the sidewalk. Lance turned his head to look behind him, sure that Keith was just doing something Keithy to further grate some nerves.
Instead, Lance found him looking at a truck. Red. Of course. There was a slight head tilt although Lance didn’t backtrack just yet.
Keith puffed out a long sigh as he kept looking over the truck. Four wheel drive. Definitely could survive off roading. Enough room for most of them. It could work. Except for… He frowned at the number painted on the window. Even with work set up, he was nowhere close to that. Maybe trying to build something instead wasn’t such a bad angle…
Pulling his phone from his pocket to jot some notes down, he opened his mouth to ask Lance what he thought, but quickly shut it when his head turned to see only empty air beside him. He blinked at the spot a moment in surprise before pivoting more to scan the area. Finally spotting Lance much farther down the road than he’d thought, he frowned, his hand raising in a ‘what are you doing way over there’.
Lance raised his own hand in a return response of ‘what are you doing?’ But eventually conceded and started to walk back to the spot where Keith had apparently left him, his momentary annoyance at Keith forgotten. As he tended to forget it. Besides, he had to admit curiosity.
“Didn’t realize you were in the market for a car,” Lance started once he was in earshot again. He leaned over a bit, trying to see what Keith was making note of on his phone. “I would’ve guessed motorcycle, knowing you.”
His lower lip jutted out a little in a pout of Lance having it right. Partly. Keith shrugged as he jotted down make, model, and price. “I wouldn’t count it out,” he admitted. Even if the car was more practical, there were things that it just couldn’t capture the same way a motorcycle could. He tapped his fingers against the car. “But it’ll have to wait until after this. Can’t really fit more than two on a bike,” he pointed out before a smirk tugged at his lips. “Plus this has a built in place to sleep if the mountains actually start calling.”
During the full explanation, Lance’s face morphed from passing interest to mild confusion. What it sounded like…
“You want to buy a car to drive around with the team?” Lance asked, turning his focus to the car itself. In that light, it made all the more sense. No more hopping buses. If they wanted to up and go somewhere, it wouldn’t take a force of nature to align everything. Lance stayed silent, slowly digesting the thought. It sounded distinctly familial. It didn’t sound like a runaway loner type at all.
“I mean, it’s not a bad idea…”
Keith nodded slowly even as his mouth pulled down slightly. That wording made his plan sound completely selfless… Which, ok, maybe a car wasn’t his first choice, but considering the situation, it made more sense….
“Not just for that,” he amended. “I want something that’s got decent speed and that I don’t have to worry about having a road to drive on.” He shrugged as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But you know every one’ll want to bum a ride as soon I get something, so better to just plan for that. Especially since we don’t have our rudder here yet.”
“Aw, Keith.” Lance gave him a smile, coupled with a clap on the shoulder. “You do want us all around. Look at you.” He swiveled a bit to view the car alongside Keith, and for a second let the mental image run through his head of Keith trying to drive with the other seats crammed full of the Voltron team. Everyone could probably fit if they used the trunk. Maybe.
Then, Lance’s eyes moved to the price. There was a falter in his smile. Even if Keith did whatever he could to save that amount, it would be months out. “But it’s a lot of cash to come up with.”
His scowl deepened, not because Lance was wrong, but just because of the way the other boy was saying. Yeah, Keith wanted them around. He liked having them around and didn’t really want any of them to leave. There was never any question about that in his mind. But voicing it as more than a ‘glad you’re back’ could be dangerous. Then it would be more likely that’d come back to bite him and hurt him later.
“It’ll take time, but I can do it.” He shrugged. “Maybe pick up some extra hours some days. Don’t really have other things sucking up my time here, right?”
There was an extra of silence as Lance turned over the response in his head. It was just goal-oriented, mission-first Keith, wasn’t it? That wasn’t anything new, but when it came down to free time, Lance was sure he could easily think up about a dozen things to do with his own. And here was Keith, casually shrugging everything else off because he could pick up some extra work hours. Sometimes Lance wondered if the other teenager even knew how to relax for more than a day.
“I guess so,” Lance conceded, since he knew that nothing he could say would shove Keith off the thought. “It’s not like we’ve been training out here, anyway. Unless you count dexterity? I mean, my thumbs are in top shape with all the video game time we have around here.” As if to prove the point, Lance raised his thumbs to wriggle them, then extended his pointers towards Keith in classic finger-gun position. “Pew-pew.”
Keith rolled his eyes, but that last part still earned a warm smile. He still didn’t fully get it, but the memory was a good one. The rest of the Paladins goofing off with even Shiro joining in. A nice pause in everything even if all those ridiculous noises made him glad to only have to worry about swords.
“You haven’t been training,” he pointed out. “The Castle still has a good set-up for that. Even if other parts aren’t there.”
Lance returned Keith’s smile with a grin of his own. It only ever took a little push when Keith was willing to meet him halfway because for all the other paladin loved to brood, Lance could swear it wasn’t his default setting. Even if he gave Keith crap about it -- the truth was that he’d gotten even more familiar with that smile during their roadtrip. Something always felt off if he could nudge Keith back into it.
“Wait,” Lance started, belatedly realizing what Keith had just said. “You’ve been training this whole time?”
Keith couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled up at the question, if just because it sounded genuine and not sarcastic. He nodded as he stuffed his phone back into a pouch. He nudged Lance with his elbow before tilting his head towards the sidewalk and then heading out that way.
“Yeah, since we got back.” He shrugged. “Maybe not as much as back home, but I’ve still been out there. You should give it a try.” He raised an eyebrow as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Unless you think your thumbs won’t be able to handle it.”
Lance took a lingering second, fixed on the spot as Keith walked away to pull a bemused frown at the pavement below his feet. He jogged ahead to catch up, only sparing one last glance behind him at the red truck.
“Oh, my thumbs can handle it,” he told Keith. “Next time, let me know you’re going, huh?”