Gasolina - Klance Mechanic/Racer AU

Part 7

I showed up to work earlier than usual. I'd woken up before sunrise with an awful hangover, but somehow had managed to drag myself out of bed and into the shower, after which it was mere child's play getting ready. The worst part about a hangover was the initial getting out of bed. About an hour into work, however, I realised just how wrong I was. My head was pounding, and I had a strange sense of dread, as if I'd done something stupid, I just couldn't remember what it was. Hunk, who appeared unusually chipper despite drinking more than me, seemed to notice my discomfort.

"Aw, buddy, how are you feeling?"

"Like the inside of death's ass-crack." I groaned, sitting on the stained floor of the garage. Keith's bike was annoyingly-close to being finished, so I didn't want to waste any time. Still, I could barely focus on anything for more than a few minutes without my head starting to pound.

Coran, who had been talking with Allura in her office, came over when he noticed me sitting on the floor.

"Lance, my boy. What are you doing on the floor? It's filthy."

"He has a hangover." Hunk announced. When I gave him a death glare, he quickly averted his eyes.

"A hangover, eh?" Coran asked, crouching down. "I know just the cure for a hangover."

That was how, by some strange turn of events, the entire staff decided to head to Cirrus Cloud Café for lunch together. Everyone except Allura, who was too busy with paperwork.

"Four specials, please, Romelle." Coran announced as we entered the café. It was quiet as usual, so we pushed two tables together. Ten minutes later, four plates stacked high with greasy food appeared on the table. While Coran and Hunk looked excited at the prospect – the two of them being the least hungover, or not hungover at all – Pidge and I turned green at the sight of it.

"Coran, are you sure this is a hangover cure?" I asked uneasily, poking at a crispy piece of bacon with my fork.

"Absolutely! Luka makes the best fried breakfast this side of the Atlantic." He said around mouthfuls of meat.

I tentatively poked at the bacon again, this time lifting it to my face. It smelled amazing and nausea-inducing all at once. I bit the bullet – or the bacon – and started eating, realising after a few minutes that it was actually making me feel a little better. Pidge still hadn't touched hers, and instead was making a face with it.

I ate as much as I could, then leant back in my chair. Hunk and Coran had both cleared their plates, and Pidge had eaten half a sausage and a hash brown. Everyone seemed to be feeling better.

Then my phone buzzed from my pocket. A text from Keith.

Keith: I'll pretend last night didn't happen if you do.

I furrowed my brow. What did he mean? I scrolled back through my texts and saw what I'd been sending him the night before.

"Ohhh shit." I groaned. "I fucked up."

"I knew you'd feel worse after." Pidge teased.

"No, not the food." I rubbed my temples. My headache had returned with a vengeance. "I drunk texted a client."

"You did not!" Pidge exclaimed, reaching to snatch my phone out of my hands. I held it out of her reach. "Let me see! I want to see how big of a fool you made yourself!"

"Fuck no." I retorted, poking my tongue out. "I doubt Keith will ever come back anyway. He seems like a bit of a jerk."

"Keith?" Coran asked. "As in Black Lion Tattoo's Keith?"

"Why does everyone know Keith except me?" I exclaimed. As if summoned by some demonic force, Keith and another guy appeared in the doorway of the café. My eyes were drawn to Keith instantly; it was the first time I'd seen him since he gave me his number, and I'd already made a dick of myself. His eyes were tired, ringed with black, and heavy-lidded. His scruffy hair – which I now noticed was basically a fucking mullet – was tucked into the same red beanie. The other guy seemed much more chipper than Keith, but just as tired. He had a streak of white in his otherwise ink-black hair. Maybe they'd been drinking, too. They both wore hoodies with the tattoo studios logo – the black lion – on the front.

"Shiro!" Coran shouted, attracting their attention. I scrambled to hide, but Keith was already staring at me with that 'barely interested' look he always seemed to have.

"Ehehe..." Pidge cackled quietly.

"Fuck off." I whispered in reply.

"Hey Coran!" Shiro said cheerfully. So this was the Shiro I'd heard people talk about. Romelle had mentioned him a few times, too. She said she'd always wanted to get a tattoo at Black Lion, but was too terrified of the scrappy emo boy who hung around. Now I knew who that scrappy emo boy was, and I didn't blame her. "I've never seen you here with the whole team before! Where's Allura?"

I noticed Romelle perk up at the sound of Allura's name.

"Paperwork, I'm afraid. She said she needed to get it all done by Friday."

Shiro nodded knowingly. "Yes, of course." He looked at us all. "How rude of me. I'm Shiro, and this is Keith. We work at the Black Lion Tattoo Studio."

"We've met." Keith snapped, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. I caught him staring; he quickly averted his eyes.

"Mind if we join you?" Shiro asked. He seemed like a really friendly guy. I wondered how he'd ended up being friends with Keith.

Coran looked at his watch.

"Actually, we'd better be getting back." He stood up, gesturing for us to follow. "Remember you can stop by if you ever need any bike repairs. We've got a great bike specialist now." He said, slapping me on the back.

Shiro smiled knowingly. "So this is the guy I've heard so much about." He held out his hand for me to take, squeezing it uncomfortably tightly. "You should come by the studio one day. Any friend of Coran's is a friend of ours."

"Thanks..."

We said our goodbyes and left the café. I couldn't help but to feel uncomfortable about the interaction. Unfortunately, my mind had been renewed with new images of Keith to taunt me with. I knew I'd be working hard for the rest of the day, if only to stop the guilt.

~

After they left the café, Shiro turned to me, smirking.

"Don't fucking say anything." I grumbled.

"What?" He teased, elbowing me. "Come on, he's hot."

"I know..." I mumbled, burying my flushed face in my hands. I had it bad...