Chapter Text
“So, let me get this straight,” Hunk started, and Lance snorted. Pidge rolled their eyes before they let Lance even open his mouth.
“Lance, you make the same joke every single time Hunk says that. Hunk says--very innocently--‘so, let me get this straight,’ and you say, ‘ell-em-ay-oh.’ By the way, who says ‘lmao’ out loud, you living shitpost? Anyways, you say, ‘ell-em-ay-oh, there’s nothing straight about me,’ and I have to sit through the same insufferable and old joke that you just keep digging up! Get some new material, Lance!”
Lance stared at his best friend with a mixture of awe and sadness and felt his cheeks regain more color than before.
“...Anyways,” Hunk cut through the surprisingly tense air. “You’re living with Keith now? Just randomly. You’re not paying rent or anything like that. Does he even have a computer, Lance? You have to be able to do your homework while you’re away--”
“I have my laptop, Hunk! Ye of little faith,” Lance tsked, and Hunk and Pidge simultaneously raised their eyebrows at Lance. “I have it! Quit being such a mom, Hunk.”
“Excuse me? I’m the one who has practically raised you all these years in college with all the food I’ve made for you!”
“Look, you guys are the ones that kicked me out! I had to find a place to crash, and it happened to be Keith’s apartment, okay!?” Lance sounded out of breath when he finished speaking, and it was then when he realized exactly how loud he had been talking.
Or yelling. He glanced around the shop, hoping that no one paid him any attention.
Pidge sighed heavily.
“We’re sorry we kicked you out, Lance, but we’re worried about you.”
“Why are you so worried? I have a roommate, don’t I? One that we see every day without fail?”
“He’s a barista. That’s all we know, Lance. Let us be concerned,” Hunk argued. Lance crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.
“Guys, I’ll be fiiiine. Keith is a cool guy! He made me tea, which personally I haven’t had since I left home. He gave me a place to sleep. That, in my head, qualifies as a good roommate, especially after you two and your antics.” Lance narrowed his eyes at his former roommates.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Pidge squawked.
“You kept me up for five hours to help you finish your thesis on the importance of advancing technology!”
“I needed you to survey students throughout the building!”
“It was two a.m. on a Friday night! I needed sleep!”
“HEY!” Hunk yelled, and Lance and Pidge immediately stopped their bickering. “Pidge, I know this is hard for you to hear, but Lance needs a place to stay, and that place happens to be with the ‘cute barista.’”
“When have I--?”
“Several times now, Lance.” Pidge deadpanned. Lance shut his mouth and let Hunk continue.
“So, let’s agree on this: Lance stays with Keith for the mean time, okay? He’s right; we keep him up for hours with our work. He needs to be well-rested in time for his classes.”
“He won’t be well-rested when he--oof!” Pidge rubbed their stomach, and Lance gave him a cheeky grin.
"Thank you, Hunk. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to my philosophy class. May I borrow a pen, Hunk?” Hunk took the pen from behind his ear and handed it to Lance. He then took a napkin from the little dispenser at their table and scribbled down an address while trying to not rip the napkin. This task proved more difficult than necessary. “If you ever have an emergency, call me or visit me. Even if you get a teeny-bit lonely.” Lance winked and waved to his (now) former roommates.
“Bye,” Pidge waved weakly while Hunk examined the slightly messy handwriting. While Lance walked out, one of the cashiers ran out the door.
“Hey!” The cashier shouted, and Lance turned around, recognizing the undercut and white strip of hair.
“Oh! Shiro!” Shiro stopped his pursuit.
“Lance?” Shiro scratched the back of his head. “I overheard a conversation about someone staying with Keith, but I didn’t think you… Nevermind,” Shiro shook his head. Lance sent him a weak smile.
“Okay? Well, I’ve got to go. Can we talk later?”
“But this is important--”
“So is psychology, my friend! See ya!” Lance waved and rushed outside, only to be met with a downpour. Exhausted, Lance scowled at the drops pelting down on his head and sighed, walking briskly to Room 225.
Just when Lance was about to call in sick for his next class, a knight clad in a cropped red jacket, black fingerless gloves, and a motorcycle came to his rescue.
“Get on!”
“Keith!?”
“Yeah! Get on! We still have five minutes to get there on time!”
“Wait-wait-wait--you’re in the same class as me!?” Keith grunted, annoyed.
“We’re gonna be late if you keep asking questions!” He said with growing urgency.
“Fine!” Lance threw up his hands and climbed on the back of the motorcycle.
“You’re gonna have to hold on! I might speed up a bit!”
“What do you--AAAAAAAAAAA!” Lance screamed, circling his arms around Keith as Keith revved the engine and sped down the road. Keith smiled to himself, thankful that Lance could barely see his face. Lance burrowed his head in Keith’s back and kept his eyes closed.
“ARE WE THERE YET!?” Lance demanded, and Keith laughed against the raging wind and rain.
After the thrilling ride, Lance panted heavily as he continued his journey on foot with Keith.
“I, pant, can’t, pant, go on,” Lance heaved, and Keith shook his head.
“Being late isn’t an option for me, and I’m not leaving you behind,” He took Lance’s hand and rushed to the building.
“Keiiiiiith!” Lance shouted and laughed, happily dragged by his… Friend? Roommate? He had to be something, right?
Who even is this guy?