Chapter Text
She was getting tired of derivatives. Pidge rubbed at her eyes, setting down her laptop before stomping back into the floor’s kitchen, turning on the faucet and unceremoniously leaning across the sink to drink straight from the flow of water. No one was gonna judge her at three in the morning.
“God, you’re an animal.”
Alright, one person was going to judge her.
She shut the faucet off and fell back on her feet from tiptoes, wiping dribbles of water from her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Lance was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, a tired smile on his face.
“It’s a waste of a cup to… get a cup.”
“Really? That’s your excuse?”
She snorted, hands slipping into the pockets of her shorts as they stood facing each other, grateful for the familiarity in their nighttime rhythm. Lance quietly turned around, making his way over to the couch to his usual spot, glancing over at the screen of her laptop as Pidge found it in good sense to join him.
“Calculus?”
“Unfortunately.”
He let out a low whistle, and Pidge sat back on her side, cross-legged, picking the laptop back up to focus back on her homework. He was less distracting these days.Well, as less distracting Lance could be.
“Hey, I was thinking,” Lance said suddenly, leaning away from Pidge’s laptop to look her in the face. “After fro-yo tomorrow…”
“Oh?” Pidge said, and she couldn’t help but grin. “You finally thought of something?”
Lance let out a laugh. “Wait, wait. Let me finish.”
They had gone out for frozen yogurt three times in the last few weeks. It was difficult, Pidge realized, to match her day schedule to Lance’s; he had work, or classes, and swim meet was coming up for him in the spring; she had robotics, her volunteer work, other clubs between classes. There was a reason, really, for their times to align only at night; she wondered sometimes if that was for the better. Worried, really, that it was for the better. As if the universe was subtly telling her she and Lance weren’t destined for sunrises.
“--You’re absolutely not listening.”
Pidge blinked, refocusing on Lance’s face, who was frowning at her. She frowned right back.
“Sorry. I got distracted. Repeat?”
“I was thinking, if you’re totally completely free the rest of the evening tomorrow,” Lance grinned. “After fro-yo, we hit the arcade for a few hours. There’s this new ramen place that opened up nearby, so we could catch dinner, and I know you want to see the new Marvel movie and that’s on at 8:15, and we should be back in time so you could sleep and make it to your meeting in the morning--”
Her brows raised, and she stopped him with a hand. “You… planned all of that?”
“Well, duh,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “I know we don’t have all the time in the world to go out, so I figured we should start making whole days of it.”
“Just to hang out with me?”
He blinked. There was sincerity in the way he was looking at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes that made her wonder if it was just a trick of the light.
“You know, for a complete genius, you can be extremely dense.”
“I take pride in being a part-time dumbass, McClain.”
Lance let out a laugh, almost a breath of fresh air from her studies, and she clicked her laptop shut, turning to face him completely, ignoring the stammer of her chest.
“I-I mean, I’m just assuming you were serious about hanging out more--”
Pidge felt her face flush, and she raised her hands in defense. “Oh my god. Yeah! I… Yeah, absolutely. I was. I do want to hang out with you. I, uh…”
She trailed off.
Was it okay to say that she wanted to be with him?
Of course, the rational part of her brain was saying it was. In fact, every part of her brain was telling her it was. They made sense, logically, emotionally. Lance was easy to talk to. She had fun when she was with Lance. And the part that made the most sense to her was that, in the dead hours of night, when she and Lance could’ve possibly been doing absolutely anything else that wasn’t sitting in the common rooms for hours, he still, without question or fail, chose her.
And she chose him right back.
And that was enough to reassure her it was okay.
“What’s up?” Lance finally bit, leaning closer into Pidge’s side so she could smell the coconut-scented shampoo he so obviously was using, feel the warmth radiating from his body, the smooth vibrations in his voice. Pidge sat up straighter.
“You… asked me about my keeping a journal awhile back.”
Lance snorted. “Are you actually keeping up with your journal?”
“Obviously, otherwise you’ll just never hear about it ever again,” she grinned, waking her laptop back up and going through her files for her digital journal. “I figured I could share an entry with you.
“Awww. Have you been writing about me?” He placed his hands over his heart, cocking his head with a teasing smile.
“You wanna find out, huh?”
“Well, duh.”
Her heartbeat was rapid, as she turned fully to her opened document, positioning herself to face Lance so he wasn’t tempted to read over her shoulder.
“Entry number twenty,” Pidge began. Lance leaned forward, a twinkle in his eyes that she would’ve missed if her laptop screen wasn’t so bright. “Lance planned another froyo date. It sucks that we can’t hang out as often as we want because we’re both so busy, but I’m looking forward to it.”
She paused, and Lance took the cue. “Very cute, and very true.”
“I’m not done.”
She steeled herself, hands hovering over the keyboard, speaking as she typed. “He’s infuriating, and a total hardass, and I can’t believe he planned, like, a six hour date. And I can’t believe I’m calling it a date. But that’s probably something Lance doesn’t mind either.”
She waited for Lance to snark a retort, but to her surprise, he was quiet. Listening. A pleasant smile on his face. She frowned at him, going back to typing.
“And that’s also extremely infuriating. And it’s really nice of him to keep coming out here at night. Before we met, it was… lonely. And usually that’s something I’m alright with. But now,” her eyes flitted back up to his face, and she didn’t expect him to be looking right at her, making eye contact. He grinned.
She grinned back.
“I can’t imagine sitting out here without him. Because I think, journal… I think I’m a little bit in love with getting free fro-yo.”
That made him laugh, and Pidge shut her laptop, a breath escaping her as she whispered a conclusion.
“Or a little bit in love with Lance, himself.”
He was grinning. Giddier than she’d ever seen him.
“Who knew you could be such a poet?”
“You’re a dork,” Pidge said, snorting. “Was… was that okay?”
It may have been a trick of the light, but she swore she could see him blushing. Quietly, Lance leaned in, and she was hyper aware of it; Lance forgetting personal space never bothered her, not really, but now his nose was grazing hers and she wondered if this was what it was like to be floating in space without a tether.
“More than okay.”
And then his lips grazed hers, for barely a second, and before he could pull back she pressed into him, fully, mouth parting in a small ‘o,’ relishing in how warm and soft his lips were and surprised to find that he was being gentle with her (which was fine by her, as far as first kisses go.)
She was the first to break it, pulling back, self consciously pulling her laptop close to her chest, as if there was anything about herself she could still think to hide. Lance snorted, a hand quick to cover his mouth, but she could still see the corners of his eyes crinkle, the pull of his cheeks. He whispered after a moment, a blush rising on his face.
“I was hoping to save that.”
Pidge furrowed her brow. “Save that for what?”
“Oh, I had this whole thing planned!” Lance began, and he was back to himself, spreading his arms and leaning conspiratorially. “We were going to go to the arcade, and after I totally kick your ass at DDR, I was going to sweep you off your feet all romantic and say something totally cool, like, ‘you’re still a winner to me,’ and then I’d kiss you and--”
She put up a hand, grinning. “Wait, rewind. You think you’re gonna beat me at DDR?”
“Oh my god. That was, like, not the point.”
“Yeah it was. You were going to revolve your entire pick-up line on the slim chance that you’d beat me.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“You’re not beating me at DDR, McClain.”
That sent them both into laughter, hands weakly coming together in embrace and the banter continued, well into the night. It was still the same routine, Pidge realized, but this time Lance wasn’t afraid to sit closer and talk aimlessly, and Pidge sat finishing her calculus homework.
He nudged her, as she was reaching the final question, and she looked at him, frowning.
“What?”
“I think this is the first time we’ve made it all the way to sunrise.”
Pidge followed his gaze, squinting at the sky outside the dorm window, surprised to see the inky black she had grown accustomed to fade into a powder blue. She turned back to him, smiling, and Lance grinned back, leaning close.
“I can see your freckles better in this light.”
That made her laugh.
“I can see you better, too.”