#reqality | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vldkeith · 2 years ago

Text

keithtober🔪🎃💢 week three: birthday🎉 or gay

keith decides that the best way to spend his birthday is driving around town and getting free food from restaurants. lance is perplexed, but supportive.

ko-fi | read on ao3

The moment Keith wakes up, he reaches over to his bedside table, turns off his alarm, and grabs the piece of paper he’d written up last night.

It’s do or die. Today is the only day he can accomplish this. The list of restaurants stares back at him, promising hours of commuting and awkward conversation.

Keith turns over and nudges Lance awake—not unkindly. Lance stirs a little bit, murmuring under his breath, and then opens his eyes blearily.

“What...Why are you awake? It’s early, it’s your—” Lance starts, cuts himself off, and then sits up in a sudden burst of wakefulness and energy. He’d gone to bed without his shirt on last night, and Keith allows himself a single moment of distraction, drinking in the always-pleasing sight of Lance’s smooth brown skin and chest. “It’s your birthday!” Lance finishes in a high-pitched, slightly panicked tone.

He turns to Keith, then, a broad smile stretching across his face, the sleepiness from before vanishing.

“Happy birthday, Keith!” he says, pulling Keith close for an unexpectedly strong hug, given he’s just woken up. Keith laughs, amused that Lance had worked himself up into excitement without him even having to do or say anything. It’s endearing, and sweet.

“Thanks,” Keith says, voice muffled from where his cheek is pressed into Lance’s shoulder. Lance squeezes him once more, and then lets go, giving him a sly smile.

Keith’s breath catches as Lance lays a hand low on his hip, tightening ever so slightly. “Want one of your gifts now? Since you woke us up so early…”

Lance starts sliding his hand down Keith’s body, and Keith swallows, momentarily torn. He shakes himself off, though; he’s got no time for this! He has a mission, and god damn him if he isn’t going to complete it this time.

Gently clasping his hands around Lance’s wandering one, Keith removes it from his person and shakes his head forlornly.

“I’d love to,” he begins emphatically, leaning forward to quickly kiss Lance’s cheek as he registers his confused expression, “but I got things to do today. And I’m hoping you’ll help me with them?”

Lance blinks and arches an eyebrow. “What kind of things?” he asks suspiciously.

In response, Keith brandishes his list of restaurants, grinning. “I made this list a few months ago. It’s every restaurant within a 20-mile radius of us that offers free food on peoples’ birthdays.”

Realization dawns on Lance’s face. “Wait,” he begins, disbelief etching itself into his tone, “you’re not seriously planning to—”

“Go to every one of these restaurants today and get my free shit?” Keith grins and folds the list up, slipping it into his pajama pocket. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m planning.”

There’s a light thump as Lance’s head lands back onto his pillow. “Oh my god,” he says with feeling. “You’re insane. Who wants to spend their birthday running around to a bunch of chain restaurants?”

“That feeling is exactly what they’re banking on!” Keith fully orients himself toward Lance, sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes bright with conviction and determination. “These places reason that you’ll probably only go to one restaurant on your birthday, not all of them. So they don’t consider it an industry risk to offer this kind of thing in the first place.”

“I don’t think it really hurts any of these places to give you one free meal one day a year,” Lance points out skeptically. Keith huffs.

“Maybe not individually. But I’m still kind of getting one over on the restaurant chain industry as a whole, you know? These meals’ll last me days after today.”

Lance sighs and mutters, “If they don’t go bad first...”

Ignoring Lance’s silly concerns, Keith swings his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the floor. “Well, I’m getting dressed,” he declares, standing up. His words are met with a loud, resounding groan from Lance. “I want you to come with me, but it’s your choice. Like, I’ll be mad if you don’t come, but it’s your choice.”

Keith suspects that the only reason Lance doesn’t throw a pillow at him as he makes his way to their shared closet is because it’s his birthday, if Lance’s murderous glare is anything to go by.

Within the next hour, however, Lance and Keith are climbing into Keith’s small, blazing red car. Keith’s always been convincing like that. Lance is still yawning sleepily in the passenger seat, though, and to be fair to him, it’s barely 9AM and Lance rarely gets up before 10 on his days off.

“Our first stop,” Keith declares, backing out of the parking lot, “is Starbucks. Think that’ll help you stop being so sleepy?”

Immediately, Lance lights up, and Keith can just hear him running through which Frappuccino he’s going to get in his head. He raises his eyebrows at Keith playfully first, though. “Really? You’re willing to go to Starbucks? Isn’t that a bit corporate for you?”

“I’m not actually giving them money,” Keith points out, and maybe because it’s a good argument or maybe because it’s Keith’s birthday, Lance doesn’t bother to respond. He merely rolls his eyes and takes out his phone, scrolling through the Starbucks app (one that Keith had recently downloaded, so yes, it actually exists somehow) and talking out loud about the pros and cons of Pumpkin Spice versus Caramel Frappuccino.

If Keith is being honest, he has no idea what to get at Starbucks. It’s not somewhere he goes regularly, mostly based on principle, but also just because their closest Starbucks is never on Keith’s way to anything. He could ask Lance, but their tastes in coffee are rather...different. Meaning, Lance does not have taste in coffee and instead has taste in vanilla syrup and milk with a little coffee added, while Keith actually does have taste in coffee because he drinks real coffee. Simple.

They pull up to the carbon-copy Starbucks building with its boxy stature and brown bricks and make their way inside, rubbing their hands together against the chill of the air. When they approach the counter, the barista smiles at them.

“Hi, what can I get started for you?” he says, and Keith takes a moment to appreciate the artful fall of his curly black hair across his forehead. He looks extremely fashionable.

Keith swallows. Is he about to look like a fucking idiot?

Thankfully, Lance steps in to order first. “Can I get a Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino, please?” he says, meeting the barista’s sleepy smile with a flashier one of his own. The barista gives him a weird look, huffs out a laugh, and then nods, inputting the item.

“Sure can. Anything for you?” He turns to Keith.

“Actually, uh...” Keith fumbles with his phone and opens up the Starbucks app, navigating to the “Rewards” section like he’s practiced. He turns the screen to the barista, who peers at it. “It’s my birthday? I get a free drink, I think.”

“Oh!” The barista nods quickly. “Happy birthday. In that case, let me finish up his transaction, then we can do yours.”

“Thanks.”

Lance gives Keith an encouraging smile before handing over his money, and Keith takes these last few seconds to anxiously stare at the menu, trying to decide what to order.

Finally, once Lance has gotten out of the way and Keith steps forward, he thinks he knows what to get.

“Can I get a Caramel Macchiato with...less sugar?”

The barista gives Keith a funny look. “Less sugar?”

Fuck. Keith falters, “Um, yeah...Do you not put sugar in your drinks?”

“We do, but—” The barista cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t come here often, do you?”

“How’d you guess?” Keith responds flatly, making the barista smile more. He clears his throat.

“I think I know what to get you. What size? Small, medium, large?”

“Large.”

The transaction goes smoothly after that, and Keith won’t deny the rush of satisfaction he gets when he doesn’t even have to take out his card or cash. Their drinks get to them in what seems to Keith to be record time, and he watches with only a slightly sick stomach as Lance excitedly sucks on his cold, milkshake-like drink.

“That’s not even coffee anymore,” he says, only a little judgmental. Lance snorts.

“It’s worse than you think. This is the cream version. There literally isn’t coffee in here at all.” Keith’s mouth falls open, and Lance cackles, swinging an arm around Keith and giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

“You’re disgusting,” Keith mutters, scrubbing at his face.

He takes a sip of his coffee, and is pleasantly surprised—it’s not overly sweet at all! In fact, it’s actually pretty good. He tells Lance this, and Lance arches an eyebrow, unconvinced, and takes Keith’s cup to try it himself.

His face screws up in something akin to pain immediately after, and he lurches away from the cup as if it’s hurt him.

“What the fuck,” he says, turning the cup around with hateful eyes. “What did they—oh my god.” Lance shoves the cup in Keith’s face and points at the label. Keith only gets as far as his name before Lance is exclaiming, “There’s literally no vanilla in this, Keith.”

Keith has no idea what that means, but Lance’s horrified face tells him plainly that it’s not good or normal. He shrugs—if it tastes good, does it really matter?

The rest of the day goes much like that first trip to Starbucks. They hit up several different restaurants even before noon—Red Robin, Applebees, Chili’s, Chipotle, Noodles & Company, Qdoba, Steak N’ Shake, and Waffle House, to name a few. It’s a road trip of American staples, and as Keith looks through the mirror at his backseat, nearly overflowing with food already, he’s stricken with nerves and hesitantly asks Lance if he’s making a mistake.

“Oh,” Lance replies, waving a hand vaguely around and talking through a mouthful of (free) fries, “probably.”

Their next stop is Baskin Robins, wherein Lance somehow isn’t sugared-out enough from the Frappuccino to abstain from getting himself a birthday cake ice cream along with Keith’s—Keith decides to eat his that moment as well, so it won’t melt. The treat gives them both silly blue lips, and they both giggle and kiss in the car until the color is gone. Krispy Kreme, Longhorn Steakhouse (“Not as good as Texas Roadhouse,” Keith sniffs upon entry), and Jack in the Box are next, filling Keith’s car up even more. The smell of food begins to permeate the air to the point that Keith feels nauseous the second he sits back down at the wheel. Even Lance, who doesn’t let food-related illness bother him too much, looks a little green by the end of it.

Keith looks helplessly down at his crumpled list. They’re just barely over halfway through. He feels ill. His car is overflowing with food—free food, yes, but in the end just...food. Keith wonders if his appetite will ever return. The longer he spends doing this, the more he’s convinced it won’t.

“Hey, Keith...” Lance ventures as they’re driving to the next destination, Denny’s. “I know you wanted to do this, but...”

Keith groans. He knew this was coming. “It feels like losing to give up now, though...” he all but whines, sadly flipping on his turn signal. They’re only five minutes from Denny’s right now.

He hears rather than sees Lance shuffle in his seat. “What if I told you that I...have something we need to get to soon? So we should go home and get ready?”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Lance sighs. “Oh, you know...” he begins, his voice doing that high-pitched thing it always does when he’s trying to avoid saying something, “just a, uh...reservation?”

Keith’s answering silence is brought by confusion, whereas Lance’s is coated with dread. It goes on long enough that Lance huffs out an “oh my god” and continues,

“Like…at a restaurant?”

Keith actually sits back further in his seat, though he manages to keep his eyes steadfastly on the road. “You...made us dinner reservations?” he asks calmly.

Lance nods. “At Sugiyama.”

Sugiyama. The best Japanese restaurant in town, the one he’d only been able to go to once before because Shiro had brought him and was willing to pay. It’s expensive, and delicious, and perfect for his birthday.

Damn Lance.

“Why the fuck would you let me do this if you had reservations for us at Sugiyama?”

“Well!” Lance’s hands fly out in front of him, and Keith can see him waving them around from the corner of his eye. “I just! You seemed really determined! I didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, it’s still free food!”

“Jesus Christ.” If Keith could, he’d slam his head into the steering wheel. As it is, though, he just turns into the nearest parking lot—a random church, go figure—puts the car in park, and finally turns to face Lance. “You are so annoying,” he says, and then pulls Lance in for a deep, indulgent kiss. “Thank you.”

When he’s released, Lance looks a little out of it, and he blinks several times before coming back to himself. Once he does, Keith sees his cheeks and ears begin to hue scarlet.

He rubs at the back of his neck. “No problem. I was just saying because, you know, the reservation’s for five, and it’s three thirty now, so we should probably try to go home and get ready—”

Keith exhales a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. We should. You’re still gonna help me put all this food away, right?”

“Of course!” Lance seems to be bouncing back, judging by the crinkles near his eyes and the smile on his (slightly red, oops) lips. “I still think this was worth it. You have so much free food now!”

“It’s worth it for my, like, mental satisfaction,” Keith replies airily, putting the car into reverse. “Don’t know if any of this food is actually good though.”

“We’re avoiding the only place I was really worried about. I don’t trust Denny’s,” Lance says, wrinkling his nose. “Reminds me of food goo too much.”

“As if.”

At least if Keith’s going to go through the ordeal of experiencing numerous fast food American cuisines today—even free ones—he’ll be able to end it off with something actually good.

☆ ☆ ☆

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH!!

#klance #klance fanfiction #keithtober2022 #keith kogane #voltron #voltron fanfic #renfic #reqally NOT a fan of this one god bless. its here now tho ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#sorry i hate being self deprectating abt fics i justttt this one was hard

35 notes · View notes