#instinctlion

It's hard but not impossible to set up a little banner and fairy lights around their shared apartment. With Keith preoccupied and leaving at all hours, Lance had been able to pull together bits and pieces of a decent decor and hide them in such a way that set up would be nothing more than fifteen minutes. The trickiest part of it all was the presents.

Not one to let his friend go unappreciated, Lance spent most of his time leading up to the birthday picking up items he thought the other might like. Keith was a practical man, and Lance sought appropriate gifts. A few new shirts, black of course, although one did have an temperature sensitive flame effect at the cuff of each long sleeve, a small all purpose knife, a sturdy case for his phone, and, Lance indulged, some Swiss chocolates and a small panther plush. They each sat next to a covered cake, the frosting uneven and amateur but lovingly set with shaky cursive: Happy Birthday, Keith 

Now to wait for the other's return.

It's somewhat of a lazy afternoon when Lance takes to watching Keith. The soft hair and full lips numb his thoughts for a moment and in that moment Lance's words spill out without throughout thought.

  ♆                Boxes lay scattered on the tabletop, silver packaging in various states of opened. If there is one thing anyone knows about poptarts its that they have many flavors. Seasonal flavors, discontinued flavors, flavors being tested, and the forever favorites. This, of course, leads to the current predicament.

- ( ♆ ) ---------  Nothing could stop the skip in his step, badly wrapped  (  newspaper, the comics of course  )  gift under his arm.  Barely contained smile as the demigod slid right into his space.  Not much  ---  but it was the other’s birthday.

  ♆                Laughter tumbling out, Percy shifted his weight as Keith’s stomach met his shoulder. A few steps and his posture was straightening --- half tripping as the humor basically busted a lung --- humming along to the other’s complaints as footsteps carried them closer to his goal. 

     A joke decision. That was what this was. 

     In his state, Saruhiko should have figured that he wasn’t suitable for going out in public or dealing with rowdy strangers. Nowadays, he felt as if the only thing he was suitable for was combat — but even in that regard, it seemed that he’d been stunted. (A wooden sword? Really?)

     He sat at the end of the bar, though that really wasn’t his only option. It seemed that the only other person there was a few seats down, seemingly minding his own business. With him, Saruhiko had no qualms; it was the group behind them that was... disrupting the peace, as it were.

     “You idiots have nothing better to do than make a mess of everything you touch,” he mumbled to himself, before turning around and aiming a much louder bark to the troublemakers. “Shut up, will you?”

     — Only to look to the side and see that the other at the bar had done the exact same thing.

This actually provokes raised eyebrows. Hard to tell precisely how he’s meant to take that statement.

“No, then it tends to become either drudgery or mortal peril.” A pause, an inclination of the head. “Or sometimes, both at once.” 

He turns an intrigued eye on the younger man.