Work Text:
Keith almost enjoyed being in this whole cat cafe business; emphasis on almost . Yes, he enjoyed the cats ( How could you not like cats? ), he enjoyed the pay (not too bad; livable), and he very much enjoyed the fifty percent off discount that came with working there. What he did not enjoy was the fact that his co-worker tried to set him up with every hot guy that walked in. “Oh, but Keith, you need this.” “Keith, look at him, how could you say no to that?” “Keith, that guy is so into you, you should go slip him your number.” While Keith was definitely in the market for a boyfriend, he didn’t think the man of his dreams was going to literally walk through the glass front door.
With practiced ease, Keith grabbed the can of whipped cream and topped off a frozen blended beverage with a swirl and little lines of chocolate syrup, capping it with a rounded plastic lid and setting it on the pick-up counter; usually Lance (his annoying as hell co-worker, as well as his apparent matchmaker) picked it up and took it to the customer, because everyone gets distracted by all of the cats weaving between their legs and sitting in their laps. Lance came over, looking decent in his work outfit; light blue apron with ‘Altea’s Kitties and Coffee’ printed near the top, black button up and jeans, light layer of cat hair, and of course, their signature cat ear headband. Everyone wore differently colored ones; Lance wore blue ones, Pidge green, and Keith wore red. Their apron colors matched their headband colors too; Allura (their boss and owner of the coffee shop) made that decision after a from someone named ‘anonymous’ (read: Lance).
Lance took the drink and read Keith’s sloppy handwriting with ease, taking it to a punk looking teenager who looked like they were having the time of their life with a few of the cats. Keith leaned against the front counter, looking out at the little cafe he worked at. There were two couches against the front window, and low rising tables with colorful pillows littering the majority of the floor. It was noon on a monday, so not many people have come into the shop today; nice and quiet, just how Keith liked it. The front door jingled as it opened, and automatically Keith was talking; it was reflex at this point. “Hello! Welcome to Altea’s Kitties and Coffee, how may I help you?” The customer came to the front counter, and Keith’s heart dropped into his stomach.
This man was gorgeous. And no, not the kind of one night stand gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous where your chest feels tight and you get immediately embarrassed. He was tall, dressed in a form fitting dress shirt and slacks. Keith looked up, seeing the customer’s face, and oh man, he swore his heart dropped into the seventh level of hell. The man’s face was chiseled with a long scar running across the bridge of his nose just under stunning , steel gray eyes which stood out against white fringe coming from a black undercut. Keith already had it bad, and he doesn’t even know what his name was. He heard the man clear his throat, and oh god had Keith been staring? “Uh, sorry! What can I get you, sir?” He did his best to swing back into routine, face flushed red with embarrassment.
The man smiled, and Keith picked up his heart just to have it melt. “You’re alright. Can I get a green tea?” Gorgeous, and liked tea? Sign Keith the fuck up.
Keith smiles, nodding. “Alright, what size?”
The man paused, like every other customer did. “Sixteen ounce? And hot, please,” He added, a gentle smile on his face.
“Of course. That’ll be four twenty five, mister…?” Keith asked, sharpie already poised on a paper cup.
“Shiro,” The man, Shiro, replied as he fished out his wallet and set a five dollar bill on the counter. Keith wrote the name, hoping to every god out there that he spelled it right. “Keep the change,” Shiro says, then looks around. “Uhm, do I just… Sit until my tea is ready?” Keith gave a soft chuckle, nodding.
“It’s a cat cafe. Go sit down, I’ll bring you your drink when it’s ready,” He says, waving the other away and starting to boil some water. He leaned on the counter, face probably really red as he thought about his options. He could just let the handsomest man walk right out the door and never see him again, or he could write his number and name on the cup like Lance always suggested, and possibly get a boyfriend out of it. Or maybe just a date. What if he wasn’t gay? No, he’s in a cat cafe, there’s gotta be at least some gay in there.
After the tea was brewed and the lid was on the cup, Keith bit his lip, glancing out at the store and at his newest crush. He was seated on the couch, one of their biggest cats in his lap. The cat was named Black, though he wasn’t actually coloured that way; he was a nearly purebred Maine Coon, so you can bet your ass he was huge. He was rested on Shiro’s thighs, large fluffy tail thudding softly on the couch as the man pet under his chin. Keith nodded to himself, finding some sort of confidence and writing his number carefully on the cup; he wanted it to be legible after all. After re-reading the black numbers at least five times over, he took a breath and stepped out from behind the counter, and over the child fence used to keep most of the cats in.
Keith carefully walked over, dodging the cats on the floor either sleeping or idly playing with some toys. When he finally arrived, he politely gave Shiro his drink, giving Black a little pet. “You should feel pretty special,” Keith says off handedly. “This monster barely likes anyone outside of the staff.” Black meows, purring as Keith scratched the top of his head. After a moment, he told Shiro to enjoy his tea before stepping back to the counter, face flushed as he watched the other drink his tea. He saw the exact moment that Shiro saw the neatly written numbers on his cup, quickly looking away when the other looked his way.
Please be gay please be gay please be gay.
His phone buzzed with a text, and despite Allura telling him he couldn’t in the employee handbook, he whipped out his phone and opened it up, smiling a little bit at the text. It read: It’s Shiro. I can’t believe I didn’t have to ask for your number :D. Bless his heart he uses emojis. Keith looked up and met Shiro’s eye, seeing the playful glint there. Keith looks back down at his phone, typing up a quick reply.
Me: You were planning on it?
Shiro: Of course. Why wouldn’t I?
Me: Why don’t you get up and come talk to me instead of giving me weird looks across the room?
Shiro: The cat fell asleep :(
Keith looked over at Shiro, smirking a little bit as he realized that yes, Black had indeed fallen asleep on him. Shiro looked up at him and gave him an apologetic smile, sipping his tea after a moment. A moment of hesitation passed, then Keith called out to Lance (who was talking to the punk kid about adopting cats), telling him he was going on break. He stepped out from behind the counter, making his way over to Shiro. He picked up Red (an orange kitten) on his way, because honestly he really loved this cat, and he somehow knew that this cat loved him too. Keith took his seat besides Shiro, not too close, and let Red fuck up his fingers a bit with her sharp as hell claws.
“So…” Keith started, looking over at Shiro. “How do we start this?”
---
It’s been a little over a year since Keith wrote his number on a tea filled paper cup. And it’s been a little over a year since he started dating Shiro. He’s learned a lot about the other over the years. Things like how Shiro was in a serious car crash, and lost his arm there. How some nights he was too anxious to sleep because of it. Things like how he doesn’t like his body because of the scars that littered his skin (Keith kisses every single one of them, thank you very much). Things like how his prosthetic arm worked, and when his stump of a right arm hurt when it was cold outside (Keith massages it when this happens). He learned about all of the super cute things about Shiro, too. Like how Shiro is totally shit at cooking (“How did you make it this far in life without knowing how to make a goddamn egg?”), and how Shiro needs his coffee in the morning if Keith wants to hold some sort of conversation with him after they’d woken up. Keith learned that Shiro loved to hug him from behind, burying his face in the crook of his neck while Keith cooked or was doing something rather mundane.
In summary: Keith learned a lot about Shiro over the time they’ve been dating, and accepted it all with open arms. He’s fallen in love with this big ol’ sweetheart, and he’s enjoyed every moment of his adventurous descent.
Currently, Keith was working the afternoon at the cafe, humming softly to himself as he made a few different coffees at the same time. The front door jingled (same sound as before, different bells) and Keith called out the same greeting that he used to, walking over to the cash register before looking up and seeing his extra handsome boyfriend. “Hey there handsome,” Keith flirts, leaning on the counter a bit. “What can I get you?”
Shiro chuckles softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You, on a break. How long until your next one?”
“Now, if you want,” Keith replies, and Shiro nods, leaning on the counter to the side of the cash register, staying out of the way. Keith took off his headband, setting it down then moving out from behind the counter. He told Lance he was going on break and needed to man the counter, then sat with Shiro on the couch. Black came up and sprawled across their laps, purring as he recieved pets from the both of them.
“How was work?” Keith asked Shiro softly, head leaning on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Shiro worked a seven to three job that paid decent money, and allowed him many sick days for when Shiro’s mental health wasn’t looking too great.
“Same as always,” His boyfriend says, leaning his head on Keith’s gingerly. “Boring. Nothing really exciting happened. What about you? Any cats puke yet?” Shiro half-joked, because yes, sometimes a cat puking up a hairball was a daily occurrence.
“ Actually , we’ve gone three days without a single hairball incident,” Keith says matter-of-factly, a smile on his face. A loud gasp came from the counter, Lance of course (who else could sound that dramatic?), and Keith’s head whipped over to investigate. “Uhm, everything okay Lance?”
Lance looked at him, laughing nervously. “Uh-Yeah! Yeah. Just, uh, stubbed my toe, that’s all.”
Keith eyed him suspiciously, eyelids squinting a little. “Uh huh. Okay mister drama queen, keep your woes of pain to yourself.” He leaned back into Shiro, smiling softly and forgetting about his coworker, focusing on being close to his large boyfriend. It wasn’t hard to relax around Takashi (Shiro’s first name, learned after the first date), he just oozed calmness that drew Keith in, made him stop and smell the roses. Or Shiro’s perfume; his boyfriend always used the women's perfumes so he just happened to always smell like Victoria’s Secret’s rose perfume. It was nice, and Keith always grabbed him a bottle when he went for… Other things.
A cup filled with a green frozen beverage was soon in his face, and Keith took it cautiously, eying Lance. “I didn’t order this,” He says, bringing the lid to eye level before he saw it; a silver band, slid onto the plastic green straw. He sat up, looking over at Shiro who was flushed red and rubbing the back of his neck.
“I ordered it,” He says, sitting up a little as well. “I-I didn’t know how else to ask you. We met here, and well, it just felt appropriate? I know you probably wanted something bigger and-and fancier with me on one knee, and I know it’s a bit soon too, but… I love you, so, so much. And I just-It felt right.” Shiro cleaned his throat, giving Keith a nervous smile. “So, Keith. Will you marry me?”
Keith takes a moment to process all of this information, acutely aware of not only Lance’s eyes on him, but also the entire shop’s, customer’s holding their breaths for a relationship that rarely concerns them. Before he knew it, he was nodding and feeling tears well up in his eyes, leaning forward and kissing Shiro happily. The customers clapped, and Lance clapped the loudest and cheered, apparently making it clear that he was the happiest for them.
Keith parted, right hand holding the cup and his left cupping Shiro’s face. Prosthetic fingers moved and lifted the ring from the straw, flesh hand bringing Keith’s fingers to his lips before sliding the band onto his ring finger. “I love you, Keith,” He says softly, eyes glittering like the stars nestled in the sky.
Keith gave him a grin, tangling their fingers together. “I love you too, Takashi.”