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Lance Espinosa hates boundaries and rules. As a son of Aphrodite, he should be sitting at the table with the Aphrodite kids. He’s not. He’s sitting at the Hephaestus table with his best friend Hunk, watching Keith Kogane scrape nearly his entire dinner into the fire as a sacrifice for his godly parent before going back to sit with Pidge at the Athena table. Apparently Lance isn’t the only one with a distaste for rules and regulations.
It’s weird to not see Shiro there at the Athena table anymore, after the camp had lost contact with him during his quest three days ago. Keith had been incensed and had demanded they send out heroes to look for him, but he’d been outvoted, and he’d stormed back to the Ares cabin in a fit of rage.
Hunk nudges him. “Look at the Ares table. They hate him so much, holy shit.”
Lance glances over to see the table of Ares children glaring stonily at Keith as he munches on what’s left of his dinner. Then he realizes - “He? He who? I wasn’t looking at anybody.”
“You were staring at Keith,” Hunk says slowly. “Like, staring at him staring at him. Like you wanted to burn a hole right through him or something.”
“You’re right, I do want to burn a hole right through Keith,” Lance says. “And then his stomach acids will eat him from the inside out.”
“Holy shit,” Hunk tells him. “That sounds like something Keith would say.”
“Ugh,” Lance says. “Shove off, Hunk, I’m nothing like him.”
Hunk raises his eyebrows but doesn’t add anything else.
Lance is leaning on the windowsill of the Aphrodite cabin, looking out over the water with a wistful look on his face. He’s always wished he could sneak out after curfew but the harpies would definitely find him and rip him to pieces. Charmspeak doesn’t work on the harpies.
“Sometimes I think you definitely should have been a son of Poseidon, with how much you like to stare at that ocean,” Nyma says behind him, and Lance turns. “What’s about it anyway that you like so much?”
“It’s just calming,” Lance shrugs. “Back in Cuba, before my family immigrated to the States, I would go out to Varadero beach in the middle of the night and just stare at the waves for hours. I just miss doing that, y’ know? Like, Camp Half-Blood is great and all, but there’s like, no freedom here. I can’t - ”
“Whatever,” Nyma says, cutting him off and turning away. Lance sighs. Some Aphrodite kids have depth. Some of them have no soul.
He makes a decision and sits down on his bunk, pulling on his shoes. “Literally, what are you doing?” Nyma asks, sitting down next to him.
“I’m gonna go see the ocean,” Lance says. “I never get any time alone with it.”
“The harpies are literally going to eat you and your pretty face,” Nyma insists.
“I’ll be out of there before they can,” Lance tells her. “I just need a couple moments.”
“See you in Hell, Lance,” Nyma says soullessly as Lance stands and makes his way to the door, opening it quietly and shutting it, hurrying to the shore.
The waves are tiny, lapping at the coarse sand, and Lance sits heavily on the ground, staring out across the water. “Miss you, Papi, Mami,” he murmurs to the ocean. Obviously, his biological (??? How the fuck does that even work) mother is Aphrodite, but his father married about a year after Lance was born and Lance was raised by a woman who has basically become his mother in Aphrodite’s stead. There’s a lot of resentment there that Lance has towards Aphrodite, but he had a loving childhood because of his parents and, later on, his step-siblings.
“Oh.”
Lance whirls.
Keith Kogane is standing behind him, looking wrong-footed and confused. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing - what are you doing out here?” Lance protests back.
“You know the harpy patrol schedule?” Keith asks, tilting his head. “You don’t know the harpy patrol schedule
“Yeah I do,” Lance bluffs. “Everyone does.”
Keith narrows his eyes but lets it slide. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Yeah, here,” Lance says, and his eyes glide to land on the duffel Keith is carrying. “Wait. Are you running away?”
Keith’s mouth skews up and he looks down at the bag, and then back up at Lance. “No,” he says, telling the truth like Lance was telling the truth about the harpies.
“Keith, you can’t leave,” Lance says as steadily as he can, standing and brushing the sand off of his shorts. “You’re in danger out there.”
“Shiro’s in danger out there,” Keith snaps. “I’m going, Lance. You can’t stop me.”
“Shiro - Keith,” Lance murmurs, stepping forward until he’s in Keith’s personal space.
Keith doesn’t back away - just stares at Lance with fire in his eyes.
“Shiro’s probably dead,” Lance says. “You have to accept that.”
“He’s not dead ,” Keith snaps. “I had - I - I had a dream about it.”
Lance closes his eyes. Dreams. They’re omens, nightmares, and usually true. He sighs and rests his forehead against Keith’s.
They’ve been keeping this - whatever it is - a secret because Lance is already seen as a slut - all of Aphrodite’s children are - and Keith is an outcast, and Keith had whispered one day during Capture the Flag, slamming Lance up against a tree with the dulled edge of a sword at his throat, “ we can’t tell anyone .”
Lance had kissed him, then, and Keith had kissed back and it was so , so good, but then they’d heard shouts and Keith had disappeared, leaving Lance short for breath against a tree that was probably scarred for life.
“Then I’m going with you,” Lance says.
“What the fuck,” Keith answers.
“I’m going with you,” Lance says, moving away even while his hands find Keith’s. “Wait for me, I’ll pack so fast you won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“I always notice when you’re gone,” Keith whispers and Lance kisses the corner of his mouth, his heart swelling.
“Wait,” he says, and then runs off to the Aphrodite cabin.
“Was it good?” Nyma asks the second Lance bursts back in, out of breath and searching for a bag.
“Was what good,” Lance answers her mindlessly, throwing his boxes of granola bars and a single (single! Only one!) face scrub into a navy blue duffel bag, along with several changes of underwear and two shirts. He pulls his bow and arrows out from under the bed and sticks them into a wide PVC pipe with caps on each end.
“The ‘ocean’,” Nyma says. He can hear the air quotes around her words and he tosses in his wallet, all his human money, and seven golden drachmas.
“Fine,” Lance says.
“You running off with Keith?” Nyma continues in the same casual tone and Lance falls, hitting his forehead on the bedframe.
“No,” he says. “Uh-uh. Not at all. Where did - what a preposterous - ” He whirls, almost losing his footing again. “I’ve never run away before. How do I know you’re not trying to throw me off - maybe, maybe you’re running away with Keith, huh? Check and mate.”
He nods, satisfied with his work while the rest of the cabin laughs. Someone tosses something onto his bed - a bottle of perfume.
“I wear cologne,” Lance says, looking wistfully at the crystal bottle on his bedside table.
“No, asshole,” says whoever threw it. “A puff of that shit puts anything out cold for five minutes. Just in case you’re in close combat and Apollo cabin toys don’t work.”
“Shit,” Lance says, throwing it in his bag. “Thanks, man.”
He slings the duffel over his shoulder and turns back to look at his beautiful cabin. God, they’re all vain motherfuckers, but does he love them. “Thanks, guys. See you.”
“Don’t fuck up your face!” Nyma calls as Lance puts a hand on the doorknob and steps outside.
Keith is shifting from foot to foot on the beach while waiting for him. “I feel awful about leaving Pidge,” he says. “She cares about Shiro just as much as we do.”
“Hunk’s going to think I abandoned him,” Lance murmurs. “Shit, shit.”
“We can’t - ” Keith says, looking pained.
“We can’t,” Lance tells him, threading their fingers together. “We’ll send them an Iris-message tomorrow.”
Keith looks down at their joined hands. “Fine,” he says. “Let’s go. I have a boat at the other end of the shore - if we run, the harpies won’t catch us.”
As they settle in the boat, both of them breathing heavily after the run, Keith rows them away. “We’re going to go down the coast and take a train from somewhere far away from Camp Half-Blood,” he says. “Shiro is trapped in a hydra’s nest along with a bunch of other demigods. If we hurry, we can save more than him.”
“A hydra nest?” Lance blurts out. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
Keith pauses. “It’s for Shiro.”
Lance sighs and leans his head against Keith’s shoulder. “It’s for Shiro.”
They row along down the quiet coast, the water lapping at the sides, and Lance looks up at the stars.