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Shiro should have seen it coming. That did not make it any less horrible.
„Ah- ATCHOOOOM!“
„You sound like a car horn.“
He threw Lance a glare, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand slowly and with purpose, a sort of mean satisfaction overcoming him when it made the young man shudder in revulsion, the peevish smile dropping in favor of a grimace. Lance and Pidge had that in common – to be grossed out at such overt displays of bodily functions or, at least in Lance’s case, those of others.
Talking of Pidge, Shiro felt bad for her. This had to be hell for their roommate. If he felt already gross, drenched in sweat as he was and having to blow his nose every few minutes, he did not want to know how she was faring. If she had the strength she would probably be hogging the shower as much as possible.
He watched as Lance cast a look at the now almost empty tissue box, his brows furrowing as he pulled one more out of it and handed it to Shiro.
“Come on, it’s all in good fun. And please stop right now, because I sure as hell do not want to catch your germs.”
He took the offered item, wiping down his hand before blowing into the tissue. He hated how it made his nose itch, how it made dried skin flake off and just overall burned but there was little he could do about that.
Bunching up the tissue, he threw it into the trash can strategically positioned between his and Keith’s beds. It bounced off its rim before falling in.
“And here we see a perfectly executed shot by the one and only Takashi Shirogane, winning his team the cup!”
His lips quirked at Lance’s enthusiastic display, one hand curled as though he were holding a microphone while his other made a broad sweeping motion. It was uncanny how well he could pull off a fake, exaggerated commentator’s voice. And it sure was entertaining. It could almost make Shiro forget about how downright awful he felt.
“Will you shut up.”
They stilled, looking at the bundle of misery curled in on itself on the other bed. Shiro did not envy Keith in the slightest. Besides having a case of the sniffles just as bad as his, his little brother also had to deal with a splitting headache nothing could seem to alleviate and that just was made worse by pretty much everything. Shiro had tried to be as accommodating as possible, to keep quiet and had even agreed to leave the blinds closed even if he would have preferred them opened. He still wondered though whether Keith’s remark that Shiro was even breathing too loudly was maybe pushing it.
But when the covers were peeled back far enough for an unruly black mop and a pale face to emerge, Shiro had to admit that he could not really put it past Keith. Besides the flush and bloodshot eyes, the bags under them spoke for themselves. He really looked every bit as miserable as Shiro felt every few hours when his fever would spike.
“Come on, warrior. Laughter’s the best medicine.”
Despite the words and his defensive posture, Shiro did not miss that Lance dropped the volume to a whisper. Lance really was doing an amazing job at taking care of them, all things considered. He probably should let him know.
“Thanks again.” Articulating around the mucus already clogging up his throat and nose was annoying.
“No biggie.” Lance replied cheerily, picking up the trash can to empty it. When he turned back to Shiro, there was a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I can do.”
Although none of them had ever made much of a fuss about that evening when Lance had first stumbled into their midst, the boy was always particular about showing his gratitude for it. They had already told Lance numerous times that it was okay, that they did not expect anything out of it, that they really just appreciated having him here but Lance remained firm on his stance.
Sure, he had never said it out loud, but Shiro could read it in his eyes, in the way they twinkled or shone when he did something for them and they were happy about it. The look of someone who felt there would never be enough ways for him to let them know how thankful he was.
But Shiro was just as grateful that Lance had come into their lives. He was a real asset in their living community, despite sometimes leaving his socks strewn everywhere and listening to his favorite music a little too loudly at times but he helped out, usually when asked and sometimes in more subtle ways like that note he had left for Hunk about needing to take a look at Keith’s bike.
And he livened up things quite a bit, coming up with stuff they could do together in town for pretty much no money to ‘bond’ as friends. The most entertaining part had to be listening to him come up with suggestions.
And Shiro was glad that now, Lance even had the time for that. It had not always been a given, not even in the first months he had spent with them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by Lance announcing he’d be back soon and before Shiro really knew what was happening, the door fell closed and hurried footsteps made the floorboards in the hall creak quietly.
He lay back down, trying to get comfortable again but it was hard with his prosthesis. He knew he should take it off but with Lance coming in every so often unannounced he just did not dare. As stupid as the sentiment was, he would have felt far more exposed with it off than in the shorts and undershirt he was currently wearing. And he also did not want Lance to see the ugly stump hidden under it, the puffy and misshapen scarring Shiro himself was reluctant to look at even after all these years.
His restless shifting must have annoyed Keith.
“If it’s such a bother just take it off.”
How the hell did his brother know him so well! Was this even possible? Maybe Keith was one of those mind-reading aliens he so often kept talking about.
“It’s fine.”
He did not even need to glance over to know Keith’s expression was one of blank displeasure and skepticism.
“No one’s gonna judge.”
Shiro gave a frustrated sigh. In parts because he knew Keith was right but also because despite his own reassurances, the foreign appendage was starting to irritate his already sensitive skin.
“The others have already seen. What’s the difference with Lance?”
The difference would be that it would be a deliberate choice to show it. With Hunk and Pidge it had been more of an accident, him not having counted on the two of them returning early from a movie they had dubbed as pure trash as he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel. And Shiro had not forgotten the look on their faces: the wide eyed, muted horror they had tried so hard to instantly push back to make him feel at ease. It must have been strange for Pidge to finally have known what was actually concealed by her brother’s years-long labor.
He told Keith so, watching as his little brother’s eyes furrowed slightly. He still did not seem to really get it. It could be because Keith in general approached these matters with little apprehension or simply because his brain was too fever muddled. But honestly, after all those years Shiro knew it was just part of Keith’s dauntless nature.
“I stand by what I said: he won’t care. He’ll probably just laugh it off. And maybe for once we can agree on something.”
“And that would be?”
Lance was rubbing off on Keith, even if he would loathe hearing it. But the smirk was far too cocky to be purely Keith: “That you’re an idiot.”
He snorted but still made no move to take off the arm.
“What mighty progress you’ve made young Padawan.”
Keith jerked his head in some sort of mocking gesture but gave a sharp hiss, curling up again.
“Bad idea.” He admitted lowly, a hand snaking out from within the folds of his blanket cocoon to massage his forehead.
“Take it easy.” Shiro tried in a soothing voice, somewhat apologetic that he could not provide Keith with the usual comfort of a back-rub. He was too unsteady on his feet yet to try squatting down and getting back up again.
“Just think about it, okay?” Keith finally relented, burying himself back under the soothing mound.
Shiro was not going to make any promises on that.
It was maybe half an hour later when Lance returned and it was high time too, the small but steadily growing pile of tissues on Shiro’s bed already threatening to go spilling down on the floor. Shiro also was relieved to see two new packages of tissues jammed between Lance’s shoulder and armpit.
“Sorry for the wait – Hunk’s thrown up again.”
Shiro winced in sympathy. Hunk’s already very sensitive stomach did not do well with sickness and the concurrent nausea.
“Yep.” Lance agreed, popping the ‘p’ while depositing his offerings in their designated places.
Lance seemed to be holding up well but Shiro couldn’t help but try and study his face, to look for the signs that he did not want to see. As good as Lance was at taking care of others, he still was terrible when it came to his own basic needs. Also, he was the only caretaker in a household with four virally infected individuals. But Lance looked quite healthy and alert, at ease even. It was a relief.
“I’ll have to go to soon. Anita’s getting kind of antsy. I’ll just bring you guys some more water and … stuff.”
“Will you be alright?”
Lance beamed, putting both fists on his hips: “No worries, I kind of told her what’s been going on and she’ll let me off the hook soon. She kind of owes you guys.”
Well, at least it was something.
“Just be careful outside. Driving’s going to be tricky.”
His concern earned him an eye-roll that was equal parts exasperated but amused.
“Yeesh, mom, I’m going to be fine.”
He snorted at Shiro’s particularly sour expression.
“I can handle it, man. I mean, yeah it’s gonna be tricky figuring out how to drive with all that snow but I can handle it.”
“Who was it again, going on about how cool snow was and never having seen it before?”
The pout, crossed arms and blush were more endearing than anything.
“I’ll be careful. You don’t have to worry.” He finally said, with kindness and patience they only saw when Lance was being dead serious.
Although no one had probably told Lance, Shiro guessed he had put it all together a while ago. It escaped no one in this flat how he got whenever anyone was outside, driving alone and in bad weather conditions. Shiro also guessed his arm, or lack thereof, had to be the biggest give-away of them all.
“Okay.”
Nodding, their friend was ready to leave when Keith piped up, voice muffled but still discernable.
“Tell him to take it off.”
Lance blinked, while Shiro threw Keith a dark glare as his brother re-emerged.
“What?” Lance blinked at Keith’s surprisingly intense stare.
“Shiro’s prosthesis is bothering him and he won’t listen.”
Shiro felt no remorse as he threw a tissue at Keith, which missed by quite a margin. Lance watched the whole display with mounting confusion before he settled his eyes first on Shiro’s face, then his arm and back onto his face. Slowly, the surprise morphed into something thoughtful, stern even.
“If that’s right, you really should take it off and let it breathe.”
Shiro could not look him in the eye, could not admit out loud to the problem.
“He’s embarrassed.”
That was it. He was going to shove the tissues down Keith’s gigantic trap! Or maybe once Lance was out of the room. He did not need a witness to get rid of as well. Especially one that was taking care of them.
Lance’s eyebrows rose in understanding, a small lilt to his smile that was somewhat sad.
“Well, if that’s all there is to it.”
He turned, going over to the closet holding all of Shiro’s clothes, rummaging through it in search of something Shiro could not see from behind the opened doors.
Lance gave a sort of whoop, before slamming the doors shut (Ah, sorry Keith!) and throwing a big and comfy sweater at him. He stared at Lance, once he managed to catch it, the guy smirking at him understandingly.
“I said I’d go and get you guys some more to drink. You can change while I do that. Should take about five minutes.”
And he was out of the room with Shiro’s fried brain trying to catch up to what just happened.
“Told you it wouldn’t matter.”
He pointed at Keith with a warning finger, eyes narrowed, and sulking.
“One more word. One. single. word.”
Too bad for him that a snort did not count as a word. He’d have loved to get his rightful revenge.
Still, he gave a relieved sigh when he finally strapped off the faux appendage, relishing the softness of one of his most comfortable sweaters.
Despite the blinds, Shiro could tell that it had gotten quite dark outside already. He was lying on his stomach, reading up on the topics they would have to work through in their next session after the holidays, listening to the quiet snores coming from his little brother.
After another fit of groaning and rolling around even Shiro had not been impervious to, he was glad to know Keith was finally getting some rest.
He paused at yet another paragraph, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on what he had just read, the glow from his table lamp casting an orange glow even through his eyelids.
He felt somewhat bad for Pidge and Hunk. The two had been extremely excited to get home and meet with their families, had even made arrangements with other people to drive with to their respective hometowns. But whatever bug was going around had hit all of them hard.
And for some reason Lance had remained the last one standing in all of this. It was their luck really, because none of them had been in any shape to do anything for almost three days. It couldn’t have been much fun for Lance. And he still did it while going to work. Shiro found it rather admirable of him.
He wished he could somehow get his three friends to see their relatives. Yeah, Lance included. It had been somewhat disheartening when he went to admit in a small voice that he did not have the money to make the long trip. A skype call was what he would have to settle for he’d joked but the smile had not reached his eyes. Shiro had opted ruffling his hair even if it was poor consolation.
“It’s not forever. And I have you guys.”
It had been a rather touching admittance.
Shiro started a little when he heard the door to their flat falling shut, unsteady steps hurrying through the hall. Glancing at his watch he was surprised to realize that it had actually been two hours already.
The door to their room opened, Lance’s head appearing as he took in their room.
“Just where I’ve left you.” He murmured and Shiro was somewhat taken aback by his uncontained excitement. He could guess how cold it must have been outside just by looking at Lance’s red nose and cheeks, which were lifted by a wide smirk.
“Think you can wake Keith up and get to the living room?” he whispered conspiratorially but still loud enough for Shiro hear.
Keith’s garbled grouse of “M’ awake already.” spared Shiro the need to answer.
Lance did not seem the least bit deterred by the lack of enthusiasm.
“Good, good, good. See you in a few then!”
And off he was, probably to go and see to Hunk and Pidge as well.
“Do you know what that was about?”
Keith shrugged, gingerly trying to get up and roll his head to probably loosen the undoubtedly stiff muscles in his neck and shoulders. Armed with their blankets, they made their way to their destination, already somewhat intrigued at the soft glow, warm glow greeting them in the hall.
They stopped dead in the entrance just taking in the sight.
Shiro had no idea when Lance had done it, when he had even found the time but he knew it could only have been him that had decorated the whole room. And even moved the couch now that he took a close look at it.
Candles, tea lights and bulky ones they knew came from Lance’s personal stash had been placed all over the room, bathing everything in a lovely and cozy light. They made their way over to the sofa which had been turned in such a way it was facing the open window from where they could see the small space between the apartment complexes, the few trees and single bench in it all covered in pristine white as snow steadily fell in thick blobs; the light from different apartments illuminating it all. Shiro jumped when his foot hit something and he wondered where the heck Lance had gotten a coffee table when he suddenly realized it was just a bunch of moving boxes Lance had kept and now obviously repurposed. He still wondered where he had gotten the burgundy red cloth from to cover it. Keith plopped himself down with one end of the sofa and Shiro watched him as he took an appreciating look around the room.
It was not fancy at all, no actual Christmas decoration to speak of but somehow the room breathed the very atmosphere of it. Speaking of which… Shiro, despite his completely congested nose took a small whiff… was there something on the stove?
He got no more time to think it over when he suddenly heard the gasps coming from behind him, making him and Keith turn around to see Hunk and Pidge entering, eyes sparkling.
“Dude, this is nice. Hi Shiro, hi Keith.” Despite sounding pretty ruff, Hunk appeared to be in good spirits, Shiro and Keith giving him a nod in greeting.
Pidge just took one more look at everything, nodded with an affirmative grunt and promptly went to sit next to Keith on the couch, pressing herself into his side which he accepted without complaint.
“Where is…”
He needn’t even ask, because suddenly Lance appeared from the kitchen, gripping their largest pot while he bit down on their only, slightly melted soup ladle, depositing the thing on a large plate placed strategically on the floor next to their make-shift table.
He spat out the ladle, grinning up at them still, smile so wide and happy it was infectious.
“So, I know that the TV’s still busted,” He began, producing a few bowls from somewhere on the ground and lining them up on the red cloth. Looking at each other quickly, Hunk shrugged with a smile, pushing Shiro to sit down with him as Lance just chattered on, “and that we all had slightly different plans on spending our Holidays,” the wheezy chuckle was definitely Pidge’s “but I thought that that should in no way stop us from having an awesome Christmas!”
Shiro could not comprehend how it was possible for Lance to pour the thick and stewing broth expertly into the bowls without spilling a single drop while he was almost vibrating with excitement.
Lance shoved the warm dishes into their waiting hands, handing out spoons as he went.
“And while it was totally sweet of Anita to treat us with a pizza, I thought that you guys would have less trouble with stomaching one of the best soups you’ll ever have the pleasure of savoring!”
Indeed, if going by Hunk’s and Pidge’s grimaces, greasy food was the last thing any of them wanted, as well intentioned as the gesture may have been. As Lance went on, filling his own bowl, Shiro saw Hunk taking a tentative sip from his spoon. His friend’s eyes widened.
“Dude!” The shout made Lance perk up, wide grin still there. If Shiro had to guess, nothing short of a funeral could wipe it off the Latino’s face at this point. “You gotta give me the recipe. Now!”
Lance laughed bright and happy, head thrown back: “Sorry, no can do. It’s a family secret and abuela will kill me if I ever pass it on to anyone but one of her great-grandkids.”
They could only laugh at Hunk’s indignant grumble, a string of muttered “just watch me cook it through sheer force of will” making it hard not to topple off the couch.
Who needed much when one room was so full of warmth and laughter, with people genuinely happy to have one another? Yeah, maybe it was a shame that none of his friends had made it to their families this year but, Shiro thought, that was alright.
Because Lance for all his quirks and tendencies, possessed the invaluable gift of making a home no matter where he went.