Unhealthy obsession. {Klance au}

Information broker.

II.
"Your coffee, sir," Pidge says, smile lingering longer than needed as she places a white modern mug in front of him. A tiny spoon placed to the side on the plate beneath it.

Keith's voice was calm as he thanked her, his hands not saying the same thing as they moved to the hot beverage. Shaking until the moment his fingertips felt the hot pressure.

Relax, you're doing fine so far, if I keep this up I'll be walking out of the cafe on Lance's mind, yeah, that can be a reality.

Lance, he's still here right? Shit. I've been disassociating so much I felt like I was about to break from reality.

Lance.

Taking a sip from his coffee Keith let out a content sigh of relief and enjoyment, looking up from his drink he looks to where he knew Lance would be sitting. Where he is always sitting every time. Right in the middle of the cafe, there's a large brown leathered two seater couch. A modern light wood glass top square table sitting in front of it, tiny plants and magazines scattering across the modernised table. Lance sits there every time. Only on occasions will he sit up at a table, having his laptop or school books propped up in front of him.

Keith cracks a small smile at Lance. Smiling at the way Lance looks so content with his coffee in hand and at the light snort he does. He smiles at the way he almost splutters it out onto himself from laughing at the conversation he was having with Hunk, who was on his brake, sitting rather closely to Lance tucked up together nicely on the two seater.

Lance and Hunk.

Lance and Hunk.

Lance and Hunk.

No matter how many times he repeated those two name in his mind over again he couldn't convince himself that they were just friends. As soon as he realised that he looked away. Staring desperately at the butter knife on the table to his left, If I could just grab it.

"Sorry Lance, I've got to get back to work but Pidge and I are still on for tonight, so we'll be there  around; six, six thirty, we'll see. Just let yourself in if we aren't there." Keith snapped out of his repeated thoughts of stabbing Hunk repeatedly in the abdomen, then once in the chest for Lance and then bringing the knife up to his own throat to push it in as hard as possible.

Looking over quickly he watched as the two best friends give each other a small wave, Hunk disappearing into the back.

This is it, this is your only chance, talk to him, don't fuck yourself over by picking that stupid knife up and talk to him.

Keith took a large gulp of his coffee, staring at the almost empty mug to psych himself up for it. 

Just do it already.

He stood up abruptly, hoping he hadn't just made too many eyes wander to him with the slight scrape of the chair.

Taking in a quick whiff of air. Keith strides Lance's way, heart beat getting faster with every step he takes, it felt like he could almost implode just by getting close to him.

He should of been watching where he was going.

"Oops! Sorry about that, man." Keith felt bile piling up at the back of his throat, it burning as he tried desperately to swallow it down hard.

Lance.

Lance was standing in front of Keith, so close he could see his loveable puppy dog eyes. He had just knocked into Keith, them both colliding as they were squeezing past an awkwardly placed chair that was moved around by the large group sitting near it. Lance grabbing onto Keith's shoulders in a desperation to stabilize them both quickly so they wouldn't knock into the ground or wall.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to knock into you like that - they really need to move this chair around!" Lance chuckled, quickly removing his hands once realising they were still holding onto him rather tightly. Rubbing his neck awkwardly. Keith swore he saw a small blush appear as quick as it left on Lance's face while he was clearing his throat.

Imagination.

"N-no problem."

"You sure you're okay?." Lance smiles, concern clear behind his eyes, he looked guilty for having been the cause of so much distress with only a small knock into the shoulders.

Are you okay.

"I'm fine, thank you, I should have been watching where I was going." Keith kept his head bopped down slightly, barely looking him in the eyes, voice timed and shy but still loud enough for Lance to hear him clearly.

"Why don't I make it up to you, how about a drink on me!" Lance say's, it sounding more like a demand then a friendly offer.

"No, it's no big deal, you don't have to do that, really-" Keith tried to rush out, only being cut off by Lance almost immediately.

"But I'm going to," Lance grab's Keith's arm gently and pulls him a few steps over to the front counter, "Do you have a regular drink you like getting here?" Lance started getting his wallet out, eye's traveling quickly over the menu as he waited for Pidge, Hunk or Coran, another of Lance's friends - and the manager of this fine place, to come serve the pair.

"I like basically any flavour of latte." Keith says, trying to relax himself, This is not what I had planned, this is not what I had planned, this is not what I had planned, Lance is staring at me holy fucking shit, this is not what I had planned, this is not what I had planned.

"Hey Lance, what are you still doing here; I thought you were just leaving?" Pidge asks as she comes out the back from the kitchen with someone's over stuffed avocado chicken salad. Passing it over to the small red headed girl waiting near the deserts.

"You can't get rid of me that easily! Haha, I was, I knocked into," Lance trailed off looking to Keith quickly, Keith mumbling his name, blushing more than he needed to while looking Lance straight in the eye properly for the first time since he started talking to him, "Keith," Lance tests out the name, "That's a nice name." Lance mumbles to him before placing a coffee to go for the both of them while finishing his explanation to his friend.

Keith didn't miss the small smirk he saw on Pidge's face as she listened onto one of Lance's rambles about a school project he's doing.

Lance is buying me a drink, holy shit.

Keith's eyes wonder to the extremely tired but bright eyed looking barista, and he starts to wonder how long Pidge has known Lance for. Considering the amount of information he's gotten from his helpful little information broker, Matt Holt. He would say at least a good ten years.

How long has Matt known Lance for.

❧

A/N: Hopefully I'll update everyday Sunday, but let's see how that turns out~