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“He just has,” Lance’s forehead punctuates every beat of his sentence, soft thuds against the white wooden door frame, “really nice eyes.”
“Yeah, we know Lance- can you stop whining about your TA for a minute?” chides Pidge, rolling her eyes at the situation. Hunk berates her, telling her to cut him some slack. Lance continues to whine.
“This is serious, Pidge!” Lance’s forehead is removed from the door frame and ends up in his hands as he begins pacing the three meters of floor available.
“If it’s tearing you up so much, why don’t you ask him out?” Hunk offers in the most soft and supportive voice humanly possible. Lance stops in his tracks and gawks at him.
“A-ask him out? Are you mad, Hunk? Keith must think I’m an absolute idiot, and not to mention a shit drawer- did I tell you all my doodles fell out of my notebook and in front of his feet? Do you know how embarrassing that is? I can’t just ask him out Hunk that’s-”
“Please breathe, Lance” comes Pidge, eyes not moving from her screen, the clacking of keys still loud in the room. In an instant, Lance feels himself still. It takes him a moment to realise he had been waving his arms around like a mad man the entire time. He fills his lungs with air and releases it in a shaky slow breath.
“What’s even got you so worked up this time? You’ve been falling over him for the past seven weeks and you haven’t been this bad since the third.” Hunk enquires. Lance feels a strong heat creep in to his cheeks. His hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing shyly.
“He was wearing a nice outfit today.”
Lance doesn’t even need to look. The light click of Pidge’s laptop is all he needs to hear to know she has an unimpressed look on her face.
“Shut up, Pidge!” Lance sends an accusing finger in her direction.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking something, I know it!” Pidge can’t take it and bursts out laughing, doubling over herself and clutching the duvet that covers her lap, laptop falling to the side.
“Come to think of it, Shay wore a really nice dress today too.” Hunk hums thoughtfully.
“See! A perfectly valid reason to be flustered!” defends Lance, a hand raised as if presenting his argument on a silver platter. Pidge just rolls her eyes.
“Come on, Lance. That can’t be the only reason? I walked past the tutorial room and you seemed to have Keith’s full attention.” Lance gasps, eyes widening as if his privacy had truly been invaded.
“Stop watching me, you stalker!” Lance voices is getting squeaky again and his face is wearing a deep blush. This time Hunk joins Pidge with a smooth chuckle.
“Just tell us Lance, we promise we won’t laugh.” Hunk’s soft voice is comforting, and it eases the scowl that has scrunched up his features. Suddenly Lance feels tired. Heavy. Exhausted. He mopes to the side of the bed. He wants to sit down- no, to lie down. He’s so tired. His heart is too sappy and full for this. His body falls back, head landing in Pidge’s lap (she groans, but her hand is soon petting his head, soothing his hurricane thoughts. Hunk also offers a comforting rub on the arm that isn’t flung over his face).
“You don’t get it. I can’t even- he just-”
Lance’s brain helpfully replays the scene in his head. The one from earlier today, with Keith crouched at the side of his chair, asking him if he finally gets it. He’s looking at him with those honey brown eyes; flecks of sunlight and grass fresh from rain staining the irises, and Lance watches as they roll and scrunch, attempting to act unamused at the joke Lance just landed, but obviously finding it hard to stop the chuckle taking over his face.
All Lance can do is sigh.
“Really nice eyes.”