Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is (was, Allura remembers) no real idea of gender on Altea. Well, there were genders, but the whole thing was much more fluid. Alteans society had more than two genders, and people often felt their gender switching as they grew up or in later life. In fact, many Altean people never fitted into a gender, and that was perfectly acceptable. Fluid gender was just the normal thing on Altea – and it still is for Allura now.

---

Meeting humans was strange for many reasons, mostly because of the many cultural differences between them and Allura and Coran. And the biggest difference she has noticed so far is the strange human concept of gender.

Humans assign each other one of two genders at birth, and they are supposed to stay that gender for the rest of their life. In fact, if their gender changes (or was never the gender they were assigned in the first place), they are known as transgender, and considered… well, different. According to Pidge, life as a transgender person on Earth can be extremely dangerous, all because of bigots who don’t understand how gender works.

And to be nonbinary (that is, someone who fits outside of the two binary genders that humans use) is difficult, as few people understand how such a thing is even possible. Not that Allura’s team have this problem, given how all of her human companions are in some way nonbinary. It was very funny when they all realised this, because it is apparently quite rare for everyone in the room to be nonbinary.

It is bizarre to think about, especially coming from a planet where being cisgender is not even a thing (because you can’t identify with your assigned gender if you don’t have one; therefore, no one from Altea is technically cis), that humans make life so difficult for each other. What is the purpose of forcing everyone into boxes and then complaining when they don’t fit?

It just seems to be yet another way in which Allura doesn’t understand how humans work.

---

Lance once asked her about the facial markings that she and Coran have. She remembers that conversation well, sitting in the kitchen as Hunk made a strange recipe that smelled delicious. Lance was sat on the counter instead of a chair, swinging their legs and chatting a bit too loudly.

“Allura, what’re the marks on your face for?” they said, sticking their finger in the mixing bowl (“Hey!” Hunk cried).

“It’s a genetic thing,” Allura said, smiling. “All Alteans are born with them.”

“But why are they pink or blue?” Lance asked, confused. “Because they can’t be a gender thing, ‘cause you don’t do that on your planet, do you?”

Allura winced slightly at their words; she hates being reminded, even accidentally, of her now destroyed home.

“No, it’s not a gender thing,” Allura said. “It is purely genetic. Like blue or brown eyes. Rarely, Alteans are… were born with green marks, but pink and blue are the most common. It’s purely a coincidence that mine are pink and Coran’s are blue when we are feminine-aligned and masculine-aligned respectively.”

Her wording was clunky, but Allura didn’t know how else to explain it. After all, she presented in a more feminine way, whereas Coran’s appearance was more masculine. Thankfully, Lance (and Hunk too, because he was eavesdropping) seemed to understand.

They smiled. “I get it. So it’s just, like, a genetic thing?”

Allura smiled too. “Yes, exactly.”

Chapter Text

Lance misses Earth (of course they do; they miss home so much that the homesickness sometimes makes them cry), but they love living in space. They love meeting all the different alien races, and there are always loads of things to see and do. Basically, they never get bored in space.

Well, that’s not quite true. Time drags in the Castle, especially in the time between missions when they are just doing repairs and training. And it doesn’t help that there’s no TV or video games – because Lance used to love playing video games (there’s something about focusing both your eyes and your hands on the same thing that really helps his ADHD).

But there is still loads to do in space. The Caste itself is huge, and Lance still hasn’t visited every room. And the others are always happy to help them do something to use up their excess energy – especially Keith, who, being autistic, understands what it’s like to feel restless. And there’s something wonderful about waking up each morning and seeing a new view out of the window.

But the best thing about living in space is how it led to Lance discovering their gender identity. They always knew that they weren’t cis, but Lance didn’t know how to explain their gender. Sometimes they felt like they might be trans, but then other times they felt still like a boy. They wondered if they were nonbinary, but the label didn’t fit. Basically, they were confused.

Meeting Allura and Coran was what did it. The Alteans had a very different approach to gender than humans, to the point that technically no one from their planet was cis. So one day when the conversation turned to being nonbinary (because it amused the two Alteans to know that everyone around the table was nonbinary, not just those two), Allura and Coran said something that just… made Lance understand his own gender.

“…and no one seems to have a… stable gender, either,” Coran said, twisting the end of their moustache. “I mean, everyone I knew, myself included, had felt their gender change many times during their lifetime.”

“I suppose we could call ourselves genderfluid, if we wanted,” Allura said, and she looked at Pidge; Lance wondered if they had discussed gender before.

And Lance stared at them, wondering what the heck Allura had just said.

“Genderfluid?” they said, bouncing their leg up and down under the table. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a nonbinary gender identity,” Pidge said. “Like demigirl.”

“Or demiboy,” Hunk added.

“Or agender,” Shiro said.

“It literally means that your gender is fluid,” Coran said.

“So you could feel male one day and female the next,” Allura said.

“Or maybe different types of nonbinary,” Shiro added.

“I think it’s different for everyone,” Pidge continued. “But it basically means your gender changes. Why d’you ask?”

Keith looked at them, and smiled. “I think Lance might’ve found the label for them.”

Everyone looked at them, and Lance felt their face blush. Coran and Allura glanced at each other, smiling.

“Well, I’m glad we started talking about this,” Coran said. “Otherwise you might still be confused about yourself.”

“Were you confused?” Pidge asked, frowning.

Lance nodded, avoiding eye contact like Keith always did. “A bit,” they said, but they thought, Very, very confused. I feel so much better now I know what my gender is. Thank you all so much.

“Thanks guys,” they said, only saying it becase they knew the others knew they used ‘guys’ as a gender neurtral thing. “Thanks.”

They all grinned, and Keith patted their arm.

“No problem,” Pidge said, smiling.

Chapter Text

It almost certainly has something to do with meeting Slav, but Shiro often thinks about alternate realities. It fascinates them to think about there being infinite different versions of them, all living their own lives in a slightly different (or completely different) way.

They often wonder what the infinite number of alternate versions of them are like. Are they all called Shiro? What pronouns do they use? Do they all have such close friendship with all of their team? Do they even have a team at all? And do they spend so much time thinking about alternate realities?

Probably not.

Chapter Text

Keith doesn’t understand gender. He never has.

It just doesn’t make any sense to him, the idea of being a man or a woman (or somewhere in between) and the name fitting you and feeling comfortable as who you are. It never has. For as long as he can remember, he hasn’t felt like the boy everyone considers him to be, but he doesn’t know what else he might be instead.

He thinks that his autism might be part of the reason why this is so complicated for him, because gender is very much a social thing (‘a social construct’ was what Pidge called it), and he really struggles with social cues and that sort of thing.

All Keith knows is that he isn’t a guy. And he knows he presents in a masculine way (which is partly because of sensory issues, because makeup and stuff is sensory hell for him), but that doesn’t make him a guy. And he thinks that he/him pronouns fit him the best, but that doesn’t make him a guy either.

He doesn’t know what he is. Most of the time, that doesn’t bother him, because there are more pressing issues in his life than his gender identity. But other times it hits him hard. He doesn’t mean to appear stereotypical, but Keith needs order in his life. He needs to label himself and fit everything into the right box, because then everything feels right and Keith feels calmer. So when he’s feeling low or stressed or upset – and maybe wobbling on the edge of a meltdown – it really gets to him. Because his gender doesn’t have a name and he’s confused and he just wants to know who he is.

---

When Lance comes out as genderfluid, Keith is happy for them. He knows that Lance had been struggling for ages to understand their gender, and to see them finally find the right label for them is nice to see.

But it also makes Keith feel sad (at least, he thinks it does; he’s never been very good at working out his own emotions), because now he is the only member of their team who hasn’t come out. Well, he told Lance and Hunk that he’s probably in some way nonbinary, but the label didn’t fit. The label never fits.

---

Eventually, Keith decides to talk to Pidge. Affectionately known as the Resident Gender Expert, Pidge is the person to ask for advice about this sort of thing. She came out as a nonbinary trans girl when she was quite young (later settling with ‘demigirl’), so Pidge knows loads about gender and transitioning and dysphoria and anything really to do with not being cis.

He feels rather uncomfortable as he sits down next to Pidge, stimming subtly by rubbing his thumb against his forefinger.

“So what’s the matter?” Pidge asks, tapping away at her computer. Not that Keith is bothered; he hates eye contact.

“It’s about… gender,” he says.

“Are you still feeling confused?”

Keith sighs. “I’ve always been confused.”

They go through a list of every gender identity that Pidge is aware of, but none of them seem right. Keith starts bouncing his leg up and down, getting irritated. This is what his thought process is like – he never gets anywhere and he gets annoyed with himself.

But then Pidge thinks of something. She looks up, the light of her computer screen shining off of her glasses. “You know, I think there’s something else. I read this thing once about how Neurodivergent people can struggle to put a name to their gender. Apparently, it’s very common.”

Keith smiles weakly, relieved to know that he isn’t the only one. “What’s it called?”

“I believe the name was gendervague,” Pidge says. “It’s a gender identity for Neurodivergent people to explain their gender and the fact that they can’t seem to pin it down. That might be a good one for you to use, if you think it fits.”

And Keith stares at her, absolute amazement flowing through him. He flaps his hands, something he hasn’t done in years. He just can’t believe it. There is a name for how he experiences his gender! There are other people like him! He finally has a label!

Pidge smiles, and Keith realises that his hands are flapping and he has a massive grin on his face. He tries to calm down, folding his arms across his chest and containing his smile. But he can’t quite hide his excitement. He hasn’t felt this happy in a long time.

“Thank you so much, Pidge,” he says. “That fits me. It really does.”

Pidge grins. “I’m so glad I could help.”

Keith smiles. “So am I.”

Chapter Text

When they decided to start using they/them pronouns, Coran felt more comfortable in themself than they had in a long time. He/him pronouns were all right, but they didn’t fit properly. So when Coran tried they/them pronouns, they seemed to understand themself better.

Maybe it is because they are very much nonaligned (some nonbinary people are male- or female-aligned, but Coran isn’t one of them; they present in a masculine way, but they don’t feel male-aligned), but the change in pronouns made them feel more comfortable. Or maybe it is something else.

But either way, they feel more comfortable now.

Chapter Text

Pidge loves compliments. They really help her, especially on the days where she’s feeling a bit dysphoric or stressed or just needs something to cheer her up. And compliments almost always work.

Such as the time when she first came out to her team, and they were all so wonderfully supportive and switched pronouns for her without ever being prompted. Or how Allura gives her fashion advice and teaches her how to plait hair. Or how Keith calls her the Gender Expert after she helps him work out his own gender identity. Or how Lance, initially confused when she came out, was the one who sat with her and let her babble about gender, eventually giving their advice and helping her accept herself as a demigirl. Or how Hunk helps her look through the dresses at the Space Mall, even though he doesn’t wear dresses himself, and tells her how much they suit her when she tries them on. Or how Shiro knows her name is Katie, but understands how she switches between Katie and her nickname, Pidge, which just seems to fit her better now. Or how Coran always makes sure to call them ‘gentlemen and gentle-ladies’ when he is talking to the Paladins, subtly confirming Pidge’s gender without really drawing attention to it, but helping her feel validated.

Each time someone she cares about compliments her, it helps to validate Pidge’s gender identity. It makes her feel stronger and happier and safer with everyone. Because she feels so safe with them all, just like she did back on Earth with her family. Which is because her team are another type of family, and they care for her just like a family would. And she cares about them, so grateful that they love her for who she really is.

Chapter Text

Lance

In their bedroom at the Garrison, a nervous Hunk comes out as trans. Lance stares at him for a few seconds, and then grins.

“That’s great, buddy!” Lance says, slapping a hand against his shoulder. “I’m so glad you told me.”

Relieved, Hunk smiles. “So… you’re cool about it?”

“Course I am. Being transgender isn’t a bad thing.” Lance leans across the gap between their beds, smiling a comforting smile. “If there’s anything you want to tell me about how to be a… better ally, feel free.”

And so Hunk tells Lance about binders and hormones and misgendering, and Lance listens. And Hunk has never been more grateful to have such a awesome best friend.

And, over a year later, when Lance comes out as genderfluid, Hunk is there to be the amazing, supportive friend Lance was for him.

---

Allura

Hunk often walks around his bedroom in just his underwear, trying to see how (or if) his body has changed since he started taking testosterone. His binder almost perfectly matches his skin tone, and at a glance, he looks like he has a bare, flat chest.

One morning, Hunk is studying his reflection in the bathroom mirror (wondering if the bulges in his binder look like pecs or not) when the door suddenly opens.

“Sorry!” Allura says awkwardly as Hunk covers his chest (it’s a reflex). “I didn’t realise someone was in here.”

“It’s all right,” Hunk says, and she looks as grateful as he feels as Allura hurries away. And despite his embarrassment, Hunk is just so pleased that she didn’t say anything about his binder. He hates it when people do that. Allura must understand him a lot better than she lets on.

---

Coran

Not that long after he starts living in the Castle of the Lions, Hunk realises that he has a problem: he only has a limited supply of testosterone gel (injections are much better, but gel was all they could afford back on Earth) with him, and he will soon run out. And he doesn’t want to stop taking his T. He has been feeling so much better in himself since he started T, and he doesn’t want the dysphoria to come back.

In desperation, he ends up having a bit of a breakdown. And Coran is the one who finds him, sobbing on the floor of the kitchens, long having given up trying to bake anything.

“Hunk?” Coran says, clearly concerned.

He doesn’t say anything, but Coran knows something is wrong. The Altean sits down beside him, their presence surprisingly comforting.

“What is troubling you?” they ask. “If you tell me, I might be able to help.”

Despite being embarrassed about being so upset over something like this, Hunk opens up to Coran. He talks about being trans, he talks about the dysphoria that comes back whenever he doesn’t bind, and he talks about running out of testosterone.

“And you need this hormone to help you transition?” Coran says, sounding a bit confused. But he supposes the whole idea of needing to transition must be odd to aliens who can simply shape shift. Sometimes, Hunk wishes he could shape shift.

Hunk nods, wiping his eyes. And then Coran gives him a reassuring smile, and tells him that they can easily synthesise some testosterone for him, as long as he gives them a sample of the hormone. And Hunk, realising what Coran is going to do for him, starts crying again and gives them a hug.

“Thanks, Coran,” he says, sobbing into Coran’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to thank me,” they say, patting his back. “But you’re welcome.”

---

Pidge

Pidge knows a lot about gender. She came out when she was eight, so she knows a lot about being trans and nonbinary (she’s a trans demigirl), far more than any of the others. So the choice is obvious when Hunk needs someone to talk to.

“The thing is…” he says, starting to feel embarrassed as he voices his thoughts. “Well, I know I’m a guy. But I don’t feel like one hundred percent a guy. Ninety, maybe. But not a hundred. Is that a thing? Or am I just being weird?”

Thankfully, Pidge understands.

“Hunk,” she says. “Why do you think I call myself a demigirl?”

“I dunno… Is it because you are a girl but not completely and— hang on!” Hunk says, suddenly understanding.

Pidge grins. “Exactly. I think you’re describing being a demiboy. It’s like a demigirl, but you feel partly but not completely male aligned instead of female aligned. It doesn’t make you any less trans, but it might explain the feelings you’ve described.”

Hunk thinks about what she has just said. He does feel sort of part-nonbinary as well as a boy, and being a demiboy seems to put a name to those confusing feelings. He smiles.

“You know, I think that fits,” he says slowly. “I think you’re right… that does seem to fit me real well. You know… I think that might be me. Thanks, Pidge.”

Pidge smiles. “Glad I could help.”

---

Keith

He must be really damn unlucky, but Hunk is one of the few people on T who still get their periods. It isn’t nearly as heavy or painful as it was pre-T, but it still makes Hunk dysphoric whenever he has his period. And he hates it.

One day, Hunk is heading for his bedroom when he hears footsteps. He looks over his shoulder and sees Keith running to catch up with him.

“Hunk!” he calls, waving his arm. “Wait for me!”

Hunk waits for Keith to catch up, wondering what this is about. Keith hunches forwards, getting his breath back. But then he straightens up and smiles, wringing his hands together.

“Can I have my pen back?” he says.

Hunk understands now. Keith lent him his pen earlier, and he must have forgotten to give it back. And given that Keith’s pen is a posh fountain pen and must be really old (and is also a comfort object for him, just like his knife), it is understandable that Keith really wants it back.

“Sorry, I forgot,” he says, digging into his pocket. He locates the pen and pulls it out of his pocket – but a load of other stuff tumbles out and falls to the floor. Including a packet of mints and, to his overwhelming embarrassment, a sanitary towel. His face flushing, Hunk stuffs it back into his pocket, handing Keith the pen. “Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” Keith says, tapping his fingers against the pen and putting it into his pocket. “Are you all right?”

Hunk grins awkwardly, his face burning. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But Keith is staring at him oddly. “Are you sure? Because you looked very embarrassed when that pad fell out of your pocket.”

“Wh-What?” Hunk splutters, once again amazed by how blunt Keith can be.

Keith smiles, probably trying to look reassuring. “That pad. I know what they are, Hunk. You don’t need to be embarrassed. You’re not the only AFAB nonbinary person on this ship, you know.”

Hunk stares at him. He knew Keith is nonbinary (gendervague, if he remembers correctly), but he didn’t know he was also assigned female at birth.

“And I know what it feels like,” Keith continues, starting to go red and wringing his hands. “How uncomfortable going through Shark Week can feel when you’re not cis. And if there’s any way I can help, I’d like to.”

Keith’s words are wonderfully reassuring, but one thing he said makes Hunk laugh.

“Shark Week?” he says, spluttering with slightly hysterical laughter.

Keith blushes, staring down at his feet. “That’s what I used to call my period. It made me feel less dysphoric.”

Hunk grins. “That’s a cool name. I might just use it.”

Keith smiles. “That’s good. You know, my Shark Week stopped ages ago, but I’ve still got lots of sanitary stuff lying around. You can have it if you want.”

Hunk looks at him, smiling. He knows Keith struggles with physical contact, so he waits for Keith to nod before he squeezes his shoulder.

“Thanks, man,” he says.

Keith smiles and pats his shoulder. “No problem.”

---

Shiro

As much as he wishes he could, Hunk knows he can’t bind forever. He often takes his binder off in the evenings or whenever he is alone in his bedroom, giving his chest and back muscles a rest. On one such evening, Hunk is in bed reading when someone knows on his bedroom door.

“Hunk?” Shiro calls through the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Hang on a minute!” he says, stumbling to his feet.

Hunk pulls on his dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around himself, before going over to the door. He slides it open and then folds his arms across his chest, trying to disguise his chest – because he feels so self conscious about it when he doesn’t have his binder on. The door opens and he finds himself looking at Shiro.

“Hi,” they say, smiling.

Hunk tries his best to smile, but he feels horribly flustered. “Hi.”

Shiro starts talking to him about preparations for Lance’s birthday, but they get distracted. They look past Hunk and stare at something – and Hunk feels sick when he realises that they are looking at his binder, lying on the floor beside his bed.

But to his relief, Shiro doesn’t say anything negative. Instead, their words are helpful and positive.

“You might want to think about getting a new binder, Hunk,” they say, their smile rather reassuring. “That one’s looking a bit worse for wear. I think they sell binders at the space mall. Maybe we can get you a new one next time we go. Hunk?”

Hunk looks at Shiro, realising that he had been staring blankly at the floor. Relief floods through him and he starts laughing, but he also sort of wants to cry. Shiro looks a bit confused, but they smile.

“Thanks,” Hunk says, grinning. “Thanks so much.”

Where would he be without his friends? They all care about him so much. And Hunk cares about them, so very much. And he loves his space family (because that’s what they are: his family) more than words could ever explain.