three months later

Welcome to Arus, town of tourists and old guys with more money than common sense.

Blessed with blue skies, heavy sun and sparkling ocean in the summer months, their year-round trademark is copious amounts of rain, and Keith has gradually come to terms with the idea that he could drown on land during their wet season.

It rains for the third day in a row, this time only a light drizzle that fills Keith with annoyance more than anxiety. He groans inwardly at the sloppy footprints on the floor. Can't people learn to wipe their feet on the big, obvious mat by the door?

Although Keith can physically feel his face starting to get sore from scowling, he likes his job. A lot. The store used to belong to his grandparents, but after one passed away and the other left on a spontaneous trip around Europe, it was left in the hands of his older brother, Shiro. Most of the boys' memories from... after...involve the shop. Keith really does enjoy the place.

Voltron. They specialize in selling Cool Shit. Some art, some furniture, clothing, even some Arus souvenirs - anything that they could put a pricetag on.

He doesn't mind his co-workers, either. Besides Shiro there is Hunk, a big friendly guy who sometimes brings homemade snacks for everyone, and Shay, a college student from the next town over who helps out during school breaks and over the summer.

The one thing that bothers Keith are the customers. Their location is perfect - a quiet oceanside town full of old and rich people, who had the kind of money to spend on Voltron's outdated collectibles, along with the tourists who flocked in when the beaches were open, willing to fork out some cash for a neat little souvenir. Except Keith hates old rich people, and tourists.

Though the town rarely sees sun through its permanent springtime cloud cover, there were some days when it was warm, breezy and not pouring rain, and those days should be increasing in number as summer gets closer, except it's early June and still as wet as it was in April. The miserable weather has kept away most customers for the morning. Keith had wandered around and looked at some of their stuff, even taken an hour to thoroughly sort all of the books on the shelf in the corner. So far he has sold a little glass bird on a stick to an elderly lady looking for garden decor.

Eventually he had retreated to the front desk where he sits now, staring blankly at his phone screen.

Once it reaches two in the afternoon, there's still no sign of life in the store. Keith is starting to wonder if there's even life in this town, or if all the oldies finally croaked. He rubs a smudge on the glass display case next to the register. It leaves fingerprints. Another reason why he hates customers - they can't keep their goddamn grubby hands off of anything.

The door chimes. Tacky. Keith hates the bell. Shiro always tries to halfheartedly argue that it goes with their image, and Keith always tells him to shut up. He pauses before he looks up, praying that it's going to be his brother finally showing up for his shift two hours late for his shift. (It's not).

Keith takes a deep breath because shit it's a customer and shit said customer is really, really hot.

He's quite tanned, with soft brown hair to complement his skin tone. His face is smooth and absent of any marks or blemishes, and his eyes are a vibrant blue that ties the entire image together. Keith is polite enough not to stare, but he takes as many glances as he dares once the man is focused on one of their many wall displays, head tilted back to look at the decorative road signs and license plates. The grandfather clock plays a brassy tune from across the store to announce a new hour - it's exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds late. Shiro still hasn't fixed it.

When Keith glances back to the man, he's looking in Keith's direction, also. There is something about those eyes that leaves Keith feeling like he's lost.

"Hey there, pretty boy," he drawls, in a voice that can only be described as suave.

"Um," Keith says, because what else do you say to that? "Hi." Holy fuck, but he stops himself before saying that out loud.

He forgets his manners and stares directly at the man's face, unsure of what to do as the guy - very obviously - gives Keith a once-over.

"I like your hair."

Keith automatically reaches up to brush his hair away from his face. Usually he keeps it secured in a ponytail at work, but he had forgotten to grab an elastic when he left the apartment in the morning.

"What do they call it? A mullet?" The man laughs, walking towards the counter, and it's not like Keith hasn't heard that a hundred times before from Shiro, but something about the way this guy says it makes the teasing more bearable. He shrugs. His voice has officially left the building. "Whatever, it's cute."

His voice is currently boarding a bus to another fucking country.

"I'm Lance. What can I call you?" So-called Lance leans on the edge of the counter, almost obnoxiously close. Keith tries not to dwell on the fact that Lance's gorgeous face is right there. He must have some crazy skin care routine because there is no way someone just naturally looks like that and oh, Lance is still waiting for an answer.

"Uh, Keith." Ah, the words return, if not a bit more croaky than usual.

Lance smiles, and then leans back to look at the display next to the counter, seeming bored. "Well, Keith," he says distractedly, "I need you to help me find a beautiful ring for a beautiful lady."

Oh. Oh.

"Y-yeah," Keith says, his brain sorting rapidly through all of the possibilities. Is Lance engaged? Or maybe about to be engaged? He feels his face go slightly red as he understands how terribly wrong he read the situation. Keith tries to remember what to say as he shuffles around the counter to look at the assortment of jewellery pieces. Shiro likes those the best. He was always trying to find the neatest ones to sell. "We have quite a few, but I'm going to be honest, I don't know much about rings. If you're looking for a wider selection or something more modern I'd suggest an actual jewellers..."

Keith looks up and finds Lance gazing unfocused at him, head in the clouds. The young man seems to recollect himself as the sentence tapers away, waving off Keith's spiel casually. "Nah, it has to be something special. Generic won't cut it for this girl. I just need you to tell me if it's pretty enough."

Don't you have an eye for pretty things? Keith thinks, and then blushes, wanting to stuff his own foot in his mouth even though he doesn't actually say it.

Lance has moved down to look at some more of the selection. Keith wonders how old he is - he doesn't seem much older than Keith himself, who is only twenty. He assumes that a guy like Lance - a smooth talker, that is - would wait longer before settling down with a wife...and he's taking this a lot less serious than most people do. It isn't the first time that somebody's come to the store with the intention of buying for their significant other, but they are typically way more picky about it.

"Here, what about this?" Lance points to a ring at the front of the case, one with an intricate golden band complete with a floral pattern and a large, pale pink stone set in the center. It's certainly handsome.

Keith leans over to look at it closely. He thinks he remembers when Shiro had first found it in a box of knick-knacks someone had given to the store to sell. His brother had been quite excited about it's worth - much more than what they had paid the lady to take the jewellry off of her hands. "It's quite expensive."

This earns him a loud laugh. "Aren't I supposed to be the one saying that?" Keith does vaguely recall the quick speech that Shiro had given him before letting him handle the customers, ending with: the more expensive it is, the more you try to sell it.

"Um," he tries again.

"Don't worry, money doesn't mean that much to me anyways."

Keith's stomach sinks even lower. Not only is this hot customer who may or may not have flirted with Keith actually already in a relationship, but he's also the type of rich asshole that Keith sees often in this place. The ones that are friendly and nice while quietly rubbing it in your face that they can afford everything you dream of having. He always struggles to decide if that's better than the kind of tourists who spend forever poking around in the store and leave empty-handed, just there to check things out.

"Yeah..." Keith says, walking back to the counter to grab their set of keys and open the case for Lance before taking him and the ring to the cash.

The young man thanks him with a wide smile, holding the ring up to his face to give it a good look before sliding it into his coat pocket. Keith bites his lip. He'd been hoping that Lance would be more careful with something he just spent that kind of money on. Keith goes back to lock up the display case again as Lance marches into the storm like the rain doesn't even touch him.

Someone else slides in the door before it closes, and this time Keith is lucky. His brother gives a sheepish grin as he pulls his hood down and starts to peel his coat off.

"I'm so sorry- I don't know why I didn't wake up-"

"Relax, Shiro. I managed to fend off the crowd," Keith smirks and looks around the empty store. "That guy just bought your fancy ring. The pink one."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He didn't even think about it. Paid in cash, too."

Both of them grin at each other. This feels good. It feels comfortable. The rest of Keith's shift passes quickly now that Shiro is there to entertain him, and he stays to keep his brother company for the last few hours that the store is open. They close early and stop at Keith's favourite restaurant to pick up dinner before they go home, and he only thinks about Lance once.

Maybe twice.

yeah, so...next chapter will probably be up sometime after the weekend. thank you all for reading and i hope you stick around to see what happens next :)