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Lance is a romantic.
This statement is universally uncontroversial; Keith could walk into a room full of strangers who’ve only had a singular, one-off conversation with Lance McClain, say it, and he just knows all of those people would nod solemnly in agreement. It’s something about the aura with which Lance carries himself; he’s positively dripping with romantic energy, with a love for dazzling and being dazzled, a clear and open encyclopedia of cheesy romcoms and dinner dates. Yes, it’s clear.
With all of this in mind, Keith really should have expected that flowers would be a regular part of their relationship from the moment they began dating. However, around the sixth time that Lance arrives home with a bouquet of rainbow-colored roses “just because he felt like it”, Keith covers his face with his hands and groans loudly.
Lance is taken aback. His expression wilts, and Keith swears that the flowers follow along. “Sorry, is it—is it too much? I guess it is, I’ve been doing this a lot, I’m sorry, I can return them—”
“No!” Keith scrambles forward, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside carefully before placing both hands on Lance’s cheeks and pulling his face forward for a long, enthusiastic kiss. When he releases Lance, he looks a little dizzy, and there’s a beautiful red hue dusting his cheeks.
“No?” he repeats, voice quiet. Keith shakes his head fervently.
“No. I love them, I just…” Keith raises a hand, rubs at the back of his neck. “I never do the same for you. I feel bad.”
A look of relief breaks onto Lance’s face, and he gathers Keith in his arms, all warm smiles now. “Aw, Keith, you’re so cute,” he says fondly, stroking Keith’s cheek with his thumb. “But I’m fine, seriously. I just like doing it. You’ve never been pampered, let me try sometimes.”
That’s what he’d said, of course, but after the fact—once the flowers are safely in a clear glass vase, brightening Keith’s room and making him blush every time he catches sight of them—Keith decides that that’s still not good enough. Lance is the romance king, that much is true, but Keith isn’t completely clueless—he can figure out how to get flowers, at the very least.
Resolute, Keith pulls out his computer. If he’s going to do this, he’ll do it right—he’s not getting those supermarket flowers, no. He’s getting a full, velvet red, expensive bouquet of roses, because Keith Kogane never half-asses anything, least of all a gift for his amazing boyfriend.
He types into Google, “roses near me” and settles in. He’s going to find the best flower shop in town.
The next day, the sun rises to Keith Kogane, dressed all in black (that’s all that was clean, okay?!), loitering around in front of Alluring Blossom, the 5-star-rated “I’ve never had such a delightful bouquet delivered to me in my entire life!” flower shop of a woman named Allura Altea. Keith automatically trusted her because he loves people that also have alliteration in their names.
Anyway, the shop opens at 7am, and Keith is going to be the first one there so he can get the freshest, most beautiful flowers for Lance, because that’s what he deserves.
Keith checks his watch. 6:59….and three, two, one….
The door is thrown open behind him and Keith immediately whirls around, lips already forming the request, but the words die in his throat as he’s faced with the disinterested, raised-eyebrow look of the beautiful woman in front of him. Pink hair, smooth brown skin, and an artful face of makeup, she’s the picture of power and elegance, and Keith is more than a little cowed in front of her.
He gulps. “H-Hi.”
The woman raises a hand in greeting, now looking a little amused. “Hello. You’re here to buy flowers?”
Scrambling to recollect himself, Keith nods, taking a step forward. “Yeah. I am.”
The woman waves her hand and disappears inside, clearly motioning for Keith to follow, and he does, walking more rapidly than he perhaps otherwise would in an effort to keep up with her.
She takes up position behind the counter, leaning forward and giving Keith a charming smile. Keith sees the flash of her nametag—Allura. Yeah, he could’ve guessed that. “What can I do for you?” she asks.
Keith’s still feeling a little intimidated, but he’s here on a mission, and a pretty lady with a commanding air is not going to stop him from completing it. “I’m here to get roses. For my boyfriend.” He slams his debit card on the table, for some reason feeling like he needs to prove to Allura that he’s actually going to pay for the flowers.
At the mention of his boyfriend, however, Allura’s face lights up. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she says excitedly, and Keith knows immediately that he’s talking to a fellow gay person. The thought comforts him, and makes him feel less silly for coming out and buying flowers so early in the morning. “What kind of flowers?”
“Just a bouquet of roses,” Keith says, giving a hesitant smile back. Maybe this is going to be easy, after all!
However, the moment she hears Keith’s words, Allura’s smile melts off her face, and she levels him with a critical, “are-you-serious?” sort of look.
Keith falters. Fuck. What did I do?
“A bouquet of roses?” she repeats, shaking her head. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”
“What—“ Why is this lady shaming him for his request? Is she allowed to do that?! “But I just want a bouquet of roses. It’s classic, he loves classic stuff!”
Allura sighs, exasperated and forlorn, and Keith feels utterly bemused.
“Classic is boring, though—” Allura pauses. “What’s your name?”
“Keith,” Keith says automatically, and then curses himself. Why is he giving this woman anything when she’s not cooperating with him?
“Classic is boring, Keith,” she continues, breezing right past Keith’s irritated glare. “Don’t you want something fun? Something to truly spark romance, show him how much you love him?”
“I thought roses did that!” Keith cries, a note of helplessness entering his tone. “Do they not?”
An irritated wave of her hand. “Yes, they do, but I think we can spice it up a little more, make it a little less boring than your original idea.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “Do you have any other colors the two of you enjoy, hm? Colors that a rose might have, of course.”
“Um—” Keith wracks his brain, trying to think. Well, perhaps… “Blue? And purple?”
“Red and blue mixed together.” Allura winks at him. “I see.”
Keith doesn’t know why, but he has to blush with the way she’s looking at him, like she knows something about his relationship just from that comment alone. This is what he gets for going to a woman whose life is devoted to symbolism, he supposes.
“I think,” Allura continues, rummaging around underneath the counter and producing a sketch pad, “something like this might make a bit more of a splash…”
Keith leans in close, watching as Allura sketches out a flower arrangement of roses, pointing out colors and meanings and making Keith think that, yeah, maybe this person is actually on to something…
“Honey, I’m home!” Lance calls from the door as he walks in. Keith stands immediately, still sweating a little from his early arrival to Lance’s apartment to set up the flowers—with Allura’s help, of course. She’s coming over to Keith’s place in a week or so to play Smash.
Flattening his hair and brushing off his clothes to make sure he looks presentable, Keith waits patiently for Lance to make his way into the living room, trying not to get too giddy with excitement about the reaction he knows Lance is going to have. He’s worked hard on this, and it’s so pretty, Lance just has to love it.
“So, why’d you wanna come before me? Couldn’t wait any longer for my—”
He stops, his jaw dropping open and then clamping shut, gaping like a fish. His entire body pulls taut, and Keith holds his breath, just waiting for the release, the reaction, watching as Lance takes it all in and then—!
He bursts into tears.
“Lance!” Keith yelps, immediately rushing over to Lance’s wailing form, waving his arms about frantically in an effort to calm him down. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I—”
“Keith!” Lance launches himself forward, wrapping his arms around Keith tightly, wetting his shirt with tears. Keith, too shocked to speak, lets him do it without a word. “They’re beautiful, I can’t believe you did this, Keith!”
Throughout his crying, Lance is gesturing forward at the expanse of living room practically covered entirely with red, blue, and purple roses, an ombre of color snaking around the edges in the shape of a heart, crescendoing into the center where a modest bouquet of red flowers sits with a tiny note attached to it. Every time Lance lifts his head to look at it, he starts crying harder, burrowing further into Keith.
Slowly, Keith starts to realize that Lance is crying happy tears—that he’s actually moved by the display, maybe even likes it. Once he gets that, he laughs a little with joy and hugs Lance back, positively glowing with the knowledge that he’s scored, he’s successfully carried out a big, dramatic, romantic gesture, something that Lance deserves and that he’s more than happy to give.
“I love you,” Keith murmurs into Lance’s ear once he’s quieted down, only hiccupping every now and then and clutching Keith tighter. He leans back, then, giving Keith a radiant smile, bright as the sun and ten times as warm, filling every pore of Keith with its yellow light. It makes the time and money he spent worth it a thousand times over.
“I love you too, Keith,” Lance says, watery and emotional. “This is—This is amazing, thank you, I—oh my god, I have to take a picture!”
And then he’s jumping off of Keith, scrambling for his phone, and Keith laughs, completely and utterly smitten. Yes, this went perfectly according to plan.
(He gets well rewarded for his efforts, later—and elects not to mention to Allura where some of her precious flowers ended up.)