Work Header

Rainy Day Lover

Work Text:

There are some days when being a lesbian just sucks. There are days when all the girls you like are straight, when you have to deal with the gross conservative anti gay protesters on campus, when your professor decides to be homophobic and give you a D- on your midterm.


Okay. Maybe that one has less to do with homophobia and more to do with the fact that Voltron hadn’t studied for her test last night, opting instead to stay up late watching Naruto. But what was she supposed to do? NOT watch Rock Lee vs Gaara in the chunin exams? Come on.


And on top of that utter disaster of a day, there’s the fact that the weather has decided to victimize Voltron personally by bringing down a sudden rainstorm.


Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.


It’s not like she’s a giant hunk of metal that may possibly be prone to rusting under heavy rain or anything!!! Ugh. Fuck this.


Voltron looks around campus for shelter. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to make it to her dorms before she starts rusting, so as soon as she sees that the campus coffee shop is still open, she books it right over there, taking care not to stomp on any of the puny humans around her.


She ducks into the shop, thanking her lucky stars that the school complied with ADA standards by ensuring that the doorway and ceiling are raised high enough to let in any robot of any size. A delightfully quaint little bell rings as the 7000 foot tall door opens and Voltron lets herself in.


“Welcome to Garrison Coffee!” A voice from the back of the coffee shop calls, “Come on in, I’ll be right with you!”


Voltron makes her way to a corner booth hidden away from the other tables. It’s strange. The weather is perfect for drinking warm drinks and eating freshly baked goods, but she’s the only one in the shop currently. Well, that’s probably for the best. Her day has been utter garbage so far and the last thing she wants to deal with right now is human or alien or synthetic life form interaction.


She puts her head down on the table and closes her eyes, listening to the rain patter against the large floor to ceiling windows. The shop smells like freshly baked pumpkin bread and something about the scent puts Voltron at ease. Smooth, old timey jazz plays from the stereo on the counter and Voltron feels herself settling in, dozing off.


She’s not sure how long she stays in that almost-but-not-quite-asleep state, but she’s shaken from her relaxation when a large finger taps on her shoulder.


Voltron jerks awake and looks up, only to see the largest, most beautiful robot she’s ever laid eyes on in her life looking down at her curiously.


“O-oh!” Voltron sits up so quickly, she accidently bangs her head on the wall.


“Ouch, that seemed like it hurt,” the robot, who is wearing an absurdly large brown apron, squats down next to Voltron, “Are you okay?”


Voltron nods, too embarrassed to even speak. Like damn, she meets the girl of her dreams and manages to look like an idiot in front of her? The universe really is homophobic.


The robot smiles and stands.


“Sit tight,” She walks back to the counter, leaving Voltron to look down at the table in shame.


Should she leave? Now might be her chance to escape. To leave this coffee shop and never come back. Maybe she’ll drop out of school, change her name, move to outer space and defend the universe from evil or whatever. Anything but sit here in this empty shop with the very tall, very hot girl who now probably thinks she’s a complete idiot.


But before Voltron can put her plan into action, the robot walks back, a very large mug in her even larger hand.


“Hey,” the robot smiles down at Voltron, “Hot cocoa. On the house. You look like you could use some”.


“O-oh,” Voltron stutters out, “Thank you!”


Atlas smiles down at her and winks before walking away.


Voltron looks down at the mug, which sits on a small saucer. On the saucer itself is a napkin and when Voltron lifts the mug off the saucer, she sees that there’s something written on the napkin. She leans down to read it.


“Call me sometime- Atlas



Oh. A grin makes its way across Voltron’s face.


Maybe this day isn’t such a bust after all.