Chapter Text
“This is going to be the best summer ever!” Lance whispered excitedly, practically vibrating in his folding chair. He and Hunk were seated in the front row, the latter to appease his overly eager best friend. “I hope we’re roommates,” he added without looking up from his orientation handbook, his eyes scanning over the text, not wanting to miss a thing.
“Lance,” Hunk replied with a slight shake of his head, “We already are roommates.”
“That’s back at our apartment.” Lance finally glanced up at him. “This is a dorm for the summer! It’s totally different,” he paused, grinning wide. “Like summer camp!”
At that, Hunk pulled a face. “I just hope this won’t involve mosquito bites, poison ivy, and me waking up on an inflatable mattress in the middle of the lake.” Hunk shot a glare in Lance’s direction when he snorted.
Lance waved his hand in dismissal. “That was one time.”
“Three,” Hunk corrected. “Seventh, eighth, and ninth grade.”
“Good times…” Lance sighed and then clapped Hunk on the shoulder. “But, not to worry, we’re adults now, one summer away from our senior year of college.” He bobbed his head. “I just can’t believe we finally got accepted for this internship.” He beamed.
As a rule, only college students currently enrolled could participate. Post-graduates were only allowed to attend if they planned on continuing their education or were majoring in the field. Otherwise, acceptance was limited.
“Thanks again for signing up with me,” Lance added with a shy little smile. Hunk was going for engineering and probably wanted to go to space camp or some sort of robot-building summer program – okay, Lance didn’t know anything about engineering, sue him – so it was great that Hunk had decided to accompany him. “It means a lot.”
“Hey, I get to see my best friend live out his dream of becoming junior zookeeper-”
“It’s an Applied Animal Behaviorist Internship, Hunk.” Lance pouted at him.
“Right. My bad.” Hunk hid a smile. “Anyway, I’m glad to help out. It was either this or Space Camp-” Lance knew it! “-and, frankly, I tend to get a little motion sick, so…”
“Attention, interns!” a loud, booming voice came from the front of the room, interrupting their conversation. Behind a podium stood a tall man, militant-looking with a meticulously trimmed beard. “First off all,” he began and then looked down at his note cards, “We’d like to thank you for volunteering to spend your summer with us,” he read robotically and then sighed, looking back up. “Thank you.”
A few people clapped and someone in the back coughed.
“Anyway…” He rolled his eyes. “The Garrison Zoo welcomes you.” He cleared throat. “Now, the heads of the fellowships will introduce themselves and then we’ll announce your assignments.” He paused, gesturing to the side. “You’re up, Holt.”
An older man with a kind face and rectangular glasses strode up, smiling at the crowd. “Thank you, Mr. Iverson.” He nodded toward the taller man and then faced his audience. “And welcome, interns. My name is Dr. Samuel Holt and I am in charge of all those participating in the Applied Animal Behaviorist Internship.”
Lance’s heart was hammering in his chest. He’d been waiting so long to do this. Ever since he was a kid and his parents had first taken him to the zoo. He would have applied sooner, but each summer there’d been distractions. Family reunions, the accidental car crash and the subsequent summer job to pay for the increase in insurance payments, etc.
But it was finally his time!
After Dr. Holt, a few others introduced themselves, but Lance’s attention was on his future supervisor. Then they began calling the interns up by department.
The first were the tour guides, a perky bunch with bright smiles and a bounce in their steps. Lance thought that’d be a cool position, but he had his heart set on working with the animals directly. Next were those working in the gift shop.
“Guess I didn’t get my first choice,” Hunk sighed from beside him, when his name wasn’t called.
After that, they called a few other positions: maintenance, custodial, veterinary, and so on. Then, finally, Dr. Holt stood back up at the podium, joined by a younger man, tall and fit, with a scar across the bridge of his nose. And Lance nearly screamed.
“Holy crow, it’s Shiro!” he hissed to Hunk.
“Who?” He turned toward him, blinking in confusion.
“Only the coolest behaviorist out there,” Lance explained, sighing dreamily. “That guy’s my hero! Did you know that he-” but he stopped when someone hushed him, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“As you know,” Dr. Holt began, “this internship fills up faster and faster, every year. Isn’t that right, Takashi?” he asked Shiro, who nodded curtly, his arms behind his back as he stood at parade rest. “I’m happy to say that, once again, we have received an overabundance of applications. We really appreciate your interest.”
Lance was bouncing his knee, waiting on bated breath for him to call his name.
“This year, we’ve filled all three positions,” he said and Lance would have leapt from his seat if not for Hunk’s reassuring hand on his shoulder. “The first is…”
He waited. The first two were not him. That was okay. He could be the third. That was fine. They were obviously saving the best for last.
“And…” Dr. Holt adjusted his glasses as he read the last name. “Keith Kogane.”
Lance’s heart plummeted into his stomach.
“Thank you once again to all the applicants.” He walked off of the stage, Shiro following behind and leading the lucky three.
How? How was that even possible? Lance was going into his final year. This was his last chance to be a part of this program. He should have had seniority. Never mind that he’d all but been assured of his position when he signed up. More or less.
“Lance…” Hunk rubbed his back. “Maybe you’ll get your second choice-”
“I didn’t put a second choice!” Lance snapped and then lowered his voice when Hunk flinched. “I…this was the only thing I wanted to do…”
“All right, listen up!” a gruff voice called, catching their attention. “The rest of you are with me in food service,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You can call me Sal.”
As it turned out, Lance and Hunk were assigned to be roommates. But Lance was too upset to be excited. He fell onto his bed face first and groaned, long and low.
“Hey, at least we’re in food service together,” Hunk offered, eliciting another pitiful moan. “C’mon.” The mattress squeaked and dipped as Hunk sat down beside him. “I know it stinks that neither of us got our first choice, but-”
“It doesn’t just stink.” Lance pulled back, turning his head with a sniffle. “I really thought I was finally-” He sighed, closing his eyes. “And I got so stupidly excited, thinking I was actually going to meet Shiro…”
“It could still happen.” Hunk pat his head. “The guy’s gotta eat, right?”
Lance perked up at that. Hunk wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t paid much attention when Sal explained the different positions, but he was pretty sure there was only one main dining area for hot food.
“Speaking of which-” Hunk’s stomach gurgled loudly and Lance bit back a snicker. “I think they’re serving lunch before we all break off into groups.”
“Yeah. We should probably go.” Lance sat up and gently bumped their shoulders. “Thanks, man.”
He may not have gotten the internship he’d dreamt of, but he was still working at the zoo and that was pretty darn cool. He just had to continue looking at the bright side.
This still had the potential to be the best summer ever.
“This is going to be the worst summer ever…” Lance lamented the following morning.
Despite the fact that the zoo didn’t open until nine, they had to be up at six in the morning, so they could begin setting up breakfast for the other interns.
“It’s not that bad,” Hunk said, stifling a yawn. “I mean, at least we’re the first ones to eat.”
After breakfast, they started preparing for lunch. The restaurant opened at eleven and they were instructed to have plenty of food fried and ready in the window for the hungry zoo patrons.
There was a rotation, Sal had told them. And Lance had the displeasure of being stuck on the fryer his entire first day. Hunk, who was their resident chef at home, was assigned to washing dishes. It honestly wasn’t fair.
They took their breaks later, after the lunch rush. Lance, who was nursing easily a thousand micro-burns from splatter on his arms, slumped over his burger and fries, nearly knocking his soda over. “This…sucks…”
“Hey, at least you’re working with the food,” Hunk reasoned, picking up a fry and frowning as it sagged soggily and broke in half. “If you’d call it that.”
“It’s edible, anyway,” came another voice, one Lance didn’t recognize. He glanced up and saw that a third person had joined them at their table. “Pidge Gunderson,” they introduced themselves and then adjusted their glasses.
Lance quirked a brow. He hadn’t remembered seeing them that morning.
“I just transferred from custodial,” they explained before he could ask. “Apparently, my skills are better suited away from hazardous chemicals.”
“Right.” Lance blinked. “Welcome to the team, I guess.”
A few days in and Lance had really gotten the hang of it. They put him as a cashier and he shined. In fact, Sal liked him up there so much, he took him out of the rotation. Of course, that probably had nothing to do with the unbelievably burnt hotdogs, the flood in the dish room, or what would go down in zoo history as The Mop Incident.
Hunk, too, was taken out of rotation, once Sal saw the magic he worked on the grill. He was the only one in their group to properly cook everything to temp on the first try. And the way he seasoned was a blessing, turning the bland, boring cardboard they served into something almost enjoyable.
Pidge floated around, but usually ended up beside Lance for the rushes, expediting for him and basically being wherever anyone needed them.
So, it was no wonder that the three of them became fast friends.
“You’re doing it again,” Pidge said, causing Lance to flush. He was caught.
Every day, around two thirty, Shiro would come to their dining room to eat his packed lunch, accompanied by one of the interns – Keith, Lance remembered. The two chatted, the elder frowning at whatever meal bar or lack of lunch Keith had brought, and sharing half his own.
It made Lance sick.
“Look at him,” Lance frowned when Hunk joined them at the counter.
“I think you’re doing that enough for the three of us,” Pidge quipped, but he ignored them.
“Sitting there, across from the best animal behaviorist in the world, sharing his lunch…” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does he even realize how lucky he is?”
“I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” Pidge said. “I mean, Keith got into the program here because he transferred from another zoo.”
Well, that was news to Lance.
“Apparently, he was their best intern, but he was dismissed for some disciplinary issue-”
“Seriously?!” Lance shrieked and then covered his mouth, lowering his voice to a whisper. “So, he messes up at some other zoo and then takes my place here?”
“You don’t know that, Lance,” Hunk argued. “You might not have been the third-”
“You heard the rep when we signed up, Hunk,” Lance said and then glowered in Keith’s direction. “Take my spot, will he?”
“What’s this?” All three jumped when they heard Sal’s gruff voice. “If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.” He held up a red sanitizer bucket and rags. “You two.” He pointed at Lance and Pidge. “Wipe down the tables outside.”
They were just about to walk out of the door, when Sal called out to them. “And take the squeegee,” he added. “For the bird poop.”
Lance didn’t hate his assignment. Sure, there were down sides. A lot of them. But he enjoyed working with Hunk and Pidge. And he really liked interacting with the guests. Plus, he got to see his hero every day. Okay, so maybe he didn’t get to talk to him and maybe Shiro didn’t know he was alive, but still.
However, it seemed like every time he got used to things, Sal was there, happy to add something to their list of duties or announce a change in operations.
Today was no different.
“Listen up!” Sal cleared his throat and stood in the middle of the dining room. They still had about twenty minutes before they had to open the doors. “Apparently, we haven’t been getting the best reviews. And sales are down, so…” He gestured toward a cart piled high with khaki-colored shirts. “We’ve got new uniforms.”
They weren’t new, so much as they were new to them. They were hand-me-downs from the gift shop. Lance remembered seeing them wearing the khaki button-ups as a kid. They were horribly unflattering and, paired with their matching pants, they gave off the look of someone on safari…in a cartoon.
But they were better than the bright orange polos they were currently forced to wear – though, Lance stood by his claim that he could make even that uniform look good.
“We’ll start wearing them for this shift,” Sal continued. “So, take turns changing in the bathroom.”
However, before anyone could head toward the cart, Hunk’s hand shot up. Sal raised his brows, but acknowledged him.
“Sir, with all due respect,” Hunk began. “Instead of changing uniforms, if the guests are unhappy…maybe we should change the food?”
Everyone froze. It was an unwritten rule that, no matter how bad the food, no one spoke ill of it, as every recipe on the menu was Sal’s own. Slowly, each member of the staff turned toward their supervisor, waiting for him to explode at Hunk – the way he did when that one kid said the chicken was too chewy… Sal had made him cry.
“All right,” Sal replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “The rest of you get changed.” Then he walked over to Hunk. “Let’s you and me talk in the back, shall we?”
Lance could only watch as Hunk was marched to what would surely be his untimely death. Rest in peace, big guy. You were too good for this world. And then he and Pidge got to work.
Surprisingly, Hunk did not end up in an early grave. In fact, Sal had taken his suggestions seriously and, by the following day, they had an entire new menu.
“Hunk, this is amazing!” Lance praised him during their break. He took another bite of his sandwich and gleefully moaned. “How did you do it?”
“Well, it all starts with the ingredients and the proper seasoning, as you know,” Hunk began. “Then, you have to take food cost into account and, honestly, the frozen prepared stuff we were getting before was much more expensive.” He gave a shrug. “So, obviously, fresh produce and meat was the way to go.”
Lance nodded, too distracted to catch Pidge before they stole one of his fries. “Hey, get your own!” he snapped, but they’d already popped it into their mouth.
“Seriously, Hunk, this is so much better than that garbage we used to serve,” they agreed.
“Well, I’d love to sit here and bask in your compliments for the rest of the afternoon, but I promised Sal that I’d meet with him to discuss a few new sandwiches I dreamt up last night.” Hunk stood up and took his tray over to the trashcan. Then, with a quick wave, he disappeared into the back.
“I wonder if it’s too late for him to change his major,” Lance mused, but was interrupted when his alarm went off. “Ugh, break’s over.” He sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Time to feed the masses.”
“At least the dinner rush is significantly calmer,” Pidge offered as they made their way back toward the time clock.
“Ah, not back in the day,” Lance recounted. “You should have seen the dump from the last dolphin show.” He chuckled. “We used to get caught up in it while we were trying to leave. I felt like a salmon swimming upstream.”
“You used to come here a lot, huh?” Pidge asked and Lance nodded.
“My parents took me here all the time,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to work here.” He paused, looking down at his uniform. “Just…not like this.” He shook his head. “How about you? Did you come to the zoo a lot as a kid?”
Pidge looked away. “Uh…yeah.”
“Did you have an annual pass, too?” he questioned. “I got one for my eighth birthday and then another for every year after that until I graduated. How about you?”
“Something like that…” Pidge answered and then changed the subject. “So, you really wanted to get a spot as a behaviorist, huh?”
“Yeah.” Lance sighed. “But, what can you do, right?” He shrugged and they both made their way back up to the front.
The dinner rush was, as expected, pretty slow. Most of the patrons left in the late afternoon, since the zoo closed at dusk. And many of the other employees had been sent back to the dorms, save for Pidge, Lance, and Hunk – though he was still in the back. As a reward, the three of them would get to sleep in the following day, which was something Lance was very much looking forward to enjoying.
It was just after closing time and Sal had just stepped into the back to get a mop bucket – Lance and Pidge weren’t allowed to handle them by themselves after The Incident – when someone opened the door.
Lance sighed. Sal must have forgotten to lock it. He stopped wiping the counter and glanced up, ready to inform the guest that their location was closed, but his words got caught in his throat. It was Shiro. The older man looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on Lance. He smiled and Lance knew right then and there that everything his mother and grandmother had fed him about heaven and angels was absolutely true.
“Hey,” Shiro greeted with a quick wave.
Lance swallowed and raised his hand, mimicking the move.
“I know it’s past closing time, but I was wondering if you had any coffee left?”
Okay, Lancey Lance. Here’s your chance. Your hero is standing right in front of you with no be-mulleted, spot-stealing intern at his side. Strike up a conversation. Tell him about your dream. Say something. He’s waiting. Standing there with a warm smile on his face. Oh, his smile was absolutely gorgeous.
“Is now not a good time?” Shiro asked and then Lance snapped out of it.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, we might have some.” He quickly turned around, his cheeks and ears burning. He’d just made a fool of himself in front of the Takashi Shirogane. He finally got to meet him in person and he stared at him like an idiot.
As it turned out, Pidge hadn’t emptied out the last of the coffee in the pot – Hunk was desperately trying to convince Sal to invest in an espresso machine or a pod brewer or something – and there seemed to be enough left for two cups.
“You’re in luck,” Lance said, without turning around. It was much easier to talk to Shiro when he wasn’t distracted by his handsome face. “I can get a couple of cups out of this, I think.”
“Oh, great,” Shiro replied, sounding relieved.
Feeling a bit bolder, Lance went on. “Burning the midnight oil, huh?”
“Yes,” Shiro said. “One of our lions is expecting her first litter of cubs-”
But Lance had already spun around, two foam cups in hand and his eyes wide with excitement. “Really?!” he gasped. “Is it Nyekundu or Buluu?” He asked, setting the cups down. There were only a few lionesses that were of mating age and those two seemed the most likely. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know. Then again, the zoo probably hadn’t announced it to the public yet. And, with it being a smaller zoo, it wasn’t like they had a live cam on her or anything.
Shiro’s raised his brows in surprise, but his smile widened. “Nyekundu,” he answered. “You’re quite familiar with our lions.”
“Well, I’ve only been coming to the zoo every weekend for the past decade,” Lance said, not the least bit ashamed. “But, wow, I can’t believe she’s going to have cubs.” He smiled. Of the two, she was the feistier, usually spurning the male and going off to sun bathe on a high rock. “Do you know how many she’s going to have?”
“Well, the ultrasound says three, but one’s a bit smaller than the others, so we’ll see how she fares,” Shiro said and then glanced down at the cups. “I’m on duty tonight, so-”
“Oh, right, your coffee!” Lance reached down to grab the cups, almost knocking them over in the process. “Sorry for keeping you, Mr. Shirogane.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said, taking the offered cups. “And, just Shiro is fine.” At that, Lance’s cheeks grew warm again, but he cleared his throat, willing them to cool.
“Sure thing…Shiro,” he managed, screaming internally.
“Thanks for the coffee.” Shiro smiled again. “Our machine is on the fritz and I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it, so you’re a real lifesaver.”
Lance practically preened.
“Well, I should get going.” Shiro gave a quick nod and lifted one of the cups. “Thanks again…um…?”
“Lance,” he replied.
“Thanks again, Lance.” Then Shiro made his way toward the door. But Lance realized he’d forgotten something. He hadn’t offered him cream or sugar! How inhospitable of him! Hunk would be ashamed.
Lance grabbed a few packets of sweetener and the powdered creamer – again, something on which Hunk was working with Sal – and practically jumped over the counter, hoping to catch Shiro before he left.
He called out to him, but all he managed to say was, “Hey, sugar!”
Shiro froze mid-step and then turned around, blinking owlishly before he quirked a brow.
Oh, great going Lance. End your conversation on a high note and then shout that at him.
“I mean,” Lance amended, holding out the packets. “We have cream and sugar, if you like.”
“Oh.” Shiro chuckled. “Thanks anyway,” he lifted a cup. “I take mine black.”
And then he was gone, leaving Lance standing there, still holding the packets out like a moron.
“Hey, sugar?” Pidge repeated, appearing from the shadows with the mop bucket Sal had filled for them. “Did you seriously just?”
Lance turned toward them and narrowed his eyes. “Quiet, Pidge.”