Chapter Text
Pidge is halfway through the same paragraph she’s been reading for the last twenty minutes when Matt drops the bag on the table. More specifically, he drops her gym bag on the book she’s still trying to read.
She looks up at Matt from the book and scowls. The worst part about living with her brother is that Matt knows where she lives.
“You and I both know I don’t believe in exercise,” Pidge says, pushing the long unused bag off her book and then the table as well. “I have to finish this reading tonight so I can write a coherent response to it tomorrow. Whatever you have planned, it’s not happening.”
“But what if, instead of studying—” Matt counters— “you were flying.” He picks her bag up off the floor and shakes it in front of her face.
“If you think this is helping your argument,” Pidge says, pushing his hand and the bag down, “you are sorely mistaken.”
“Oh come on, Pidge,” Matt whines. Of course he does. She’s the little sister. She should be whining. But it’s always Matt with the puppy dog eyes and desperate need to leave the house. “It’ll be fun. Plus, Shiro—” As soon as she hears Shiro’s name, it all clicks. She grabs the bag from Matt’s outstretched hands.
“Oh, Shiro suggested it?” she feigns innocently. “Then whatever it is must be great. Let me change into these.” She pushes past Matt into her room but calls over her shoulder before shutting the door. “I’ll do this so you can gush to Shiro, but you owe me big time.”
~~
Matt ends up driving her to a creepy parking lot behind a car wash, and for a moment Pidge wonders if her brother has finally cracked.
“I know we’ve had our differences, Matt...” she begins cautiously (can’t be too careful when your brother finally turns into a serial killer). “But you would at least murder me in a field or something, right?” She gestures to the gravel parking lot that has a couple of cars in it, but still feels empty. “You wouldn’t kill me in this sad parking lot?”
“Very funny, Pidge,” Matt replies. “We didn’t come to this parking lot. Our final destination is there,” he says, pointing at the building with the car wash.
“So we’re getting your car washed? I didn’t have to change into workout clothes for that.”
She can feel Matt’s level of annoyance slowly rising. If he’s going to make her do some type of physical exercise, she’s at least going to pester him while it happens.
“No, we are not getting my car washed.” He points at the building again, but more forcefully, and Pidge actually takes a look. There’s a secondary door towards the back of the building with a small sign that reads Altea Studios. It’s accompanied by a silhouette of what looks like some type of dancer.
“Oh no,” Pidge says. “I’m not taking a dance class with you. Or with anyone.”
“We’ll it’s a good thing it’s not a dance class,” Matt replies. “It’s aerial silks.”
~~
It takes another few minutes of convincing for Matt to get Pidge out of the car. It’s not that she wants to bail on Matt; it’s that the idea of doing anything artsy with her body makes Pidge cringe. She didn’t even take dance classes as a toddler like most of her friends. She’d been too busy learning the basics of coding with a cute little turtle game to be bothered with tutus or tap.
“I’m only doing this because you have a thing for Shiro,” she reasons. Faster than she expects, Matt has his hand over her mouth.
“Don’t you say a word. He could be in there!” Pidge glares at Matt, waiting for the right moment. He turns to look at the entrance, and she opens her mouth, swiping her tongue on his hand.
Matt pulls away from her, his face twisted in disgust. “Oh, Pidge, gross.”
“You owe me so much for this,” she counters. “That’s just your first payment.”
They make it to the door of Altea Studios, but it’s being pushed open from the inside before Pidge can even reach for it. Several little girls come tumbling out of the building, all wearing similar outfits to Pidge: yoga pants and graphic t-shirts. The group bustles past Matt and Pidge, followed shortly by an exasperated middle aged man, waving goodbye to someone inside the door. As they leave, another figure appears in the doorway.
This time, Pidge is getting what she came for.
Shiro has been friends with Matt since high school, and Matt has been harboring a crush on the man for nearly as long. She’s never seen two people both so compatible and so completely oblivious before. According to Matt, Shiro picked up aerial acrobatics after the car accident where he lost his arm. As much as she loves her brother, Pidge is sick and tired of waiting for Matt to build up the nerve to say something. So anything he suggests involving Shiro is an automatic yes, if only because it gives her more opportunity to meddle in her brother’s love life.
It seems like aerial suits Shiro. He’s built up his physique he had before the accident, and looks happy, if not with a little worry on his face as he shouts at the group of girls leaving the studio.
“Don’t run across the street without looking,” Shiro shouts after the group, “and listen to Mr. Sanders!”
He lets out an exasperated sigh when the group of girls all shout back “Yes, Mr. Shiro!” in unison before giggling uncontrollably.
It takes Shiro a few moments of deep breaths before he notices Pidge and Matt, but when he does, his entire posture changes. Pidge has seen Shiro’s Dad Mode, before, and that’s how he was behaving for the kids, but when he sees the both of them, he relaxes. His gaze flickers from Matt, to Pidge, and back to Matt.
“Oh wow, Matt!” Shiro looks genuinely surprised at Matt’s presence. Then he adds “and Pidge,” almost as an afterthought. Pidge wants to shake her brother for being so incredibly dumb. Instead, she smiles and waves at Shiro. “What are you two doing here?”
Pidge would jump in and embarrass Matt, but he’s on his game today.
“Well, you had mentioned how much you’ve enjoyed aerial lately...” Matt trails off for a moment, scratching his cheek in the way that Pidge knows means he’s nervous. “So I talked Pidge into taking a break from all her hard doctoral work and giving it a try with me.”
Matt grabs Pidge by the shoulders, as if she could act as a shield between him and Shiro. She elbows Matt away and pushes past Shiro into the studio, muttering “So, let’s get a look at this place,” before leaving Matt in the dust with Shiro. If experience is anything to go by, they’ll be fine. Instead, she turns her attention to the studio.
The interior of the studio is...eclectic, to say the least. A table in one corner appears to be a small altar covered with figurines, while some art hangs high on the walls, most of it of lions in various themes. Pidge can honestly say that it’s nothing like she’d expected.
Everywhere she looks, there are huge columns of fabric hanging from the ceiling. Colors ranging from black to pink to one that looked to be dyed an ombre blue. The large overhead lights are off, leaving most of the lighting to the one window and the colored LED light strips wrapped around the rigging high above.
At the center of the room, a small group of women were gathered around a tall man. Pidge left Matt fumbling through a conversation with Shiro and made her way to the group. Even from a distance, Pidge can make out a sharp chin, dark skin, and well-defined arms. When she nears the group, she hangs back for a moment, content to listen to them chat before interjecting herself.
“I did aerial yoga before starting, but it’s nothing compared to really working with silks,” one especially fit-looking woman says. “Mostly just using the silks to get better backbends.” Several other women all nod in agreement.
“I’ll have you all upside down and in the air in no time,” the man says. Before any of the other women can respond, he looks over to the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go get some paperwork from the office, but I’ll be back before we start at seven.” And with that, he pushes out from the group and disappears through a nearby door.
“Who is that?” Pidge asks one of the women.
“Oh, that’s Lance, he’s the instructor,” the woman offers.
“Mm, thanks,” Pidge replies. Lance seems interesting. Definitely not exactly what she expected for an instructor. But to be fair, she knew nothing about aerial before today. So like this whole experience, Lance is an unknown factor. But Pidge has never been one to let the unknown scare her.
~~
Right on time, Lance returns from the office and makes his way to the center of the group.
“Alright everyone, my name is Lance and I will be your intro to aerial instructor for the next eight weeks!” As he speaks, Lance motions the group to draw near. With a single fluid motion, he sprawls out on the ground, a small notebook in front of him.
“Let’s go around and introduce ourselves, and let me know why you’re here.” With a flourish, Lance sits up, his posture going from languid to poised before Pidge even realizes he made the transition. “Like I said, I’m Lance. I’ve been doing aerial for just about ten years, and I am here to mold you from beginner baby chicks into slightly more graceful intermediate birds.” He points to his left, where Matt is sitting. “What about you, good sir?”
“Uh, I’m Matt. I’ve never done this before, but my friend Shiro has been saying I should give it a try, so here I am.” At the mention of Shiro’s name, Lance lights up.
“Oh man, Shiro is great. He’s sent you to the right place.”
“I’m Pidge. And I’m here because my dumb brother didn’t want to come alone.” She gently elbows Matt.
“A good enough reason as any,” Lance replies. “Glad to have you, Pidge.” She knows that it’s just a generic platitude, but she warms at his reply. Lance continues around the circle, and the remaining students all introduce themselves. Once their done, Lance nods.
“So before we get started, a couple of things. If you haven’t signed a waiver yet, I’m going to need you to do that,” Lance waves the stack of papers in his hands. “Also, I want to just briefly mention that aerial is a very dangerous art, and part of my job as your instructor includes spotting you.” Lance pauses for a moment, and looks deliberately at each student in the circle. When he meets Pidge’s eyes, she can feel the intensity of what he’s saying in the bright blue gaze.
“I’ll do my best to ask ahead of time if I think I need to touch anyone to assist with a move or prevent a fall. If someone does start to fall, depending on the situation, I may be able to prevent or mitigate injury by initiating some physical contact and grabbing you or softening the fall. But if at any time, I make you uncomfortable, or any touch feels inappropriate to you, please let me know, and I’ll stop or make appropriate changes. If you don’t feel comfortable telling me, Allura, the owner of the studio, absolutely wants to hear from you.” Lance sweeps his gaze across the group again, and nods.
“I want you all to learn to love aerial just like I do. But I can’t do that if I make you uncomfortable.” Several of the students nod, and Pidge finds herself impressed. Lance is serious about this, more serious than she’s seen some of her fellow doctoral candidates about their studies. And it’s reassuring that not only is he wanting to keep everyone safe, but he’s also passionate about the subject.
Pidge’s favorite teachers have always been the ones who cared enough about the subject to want their students to love it as well. The difference between good and great always seems to be passion.
Lance gives them a few more moments to sit with his little speech before declaring it warmup time, leading them through a long stretching and yoga routine that leaves Pidge sweaty and tired. But once they’re done, everyone finds a silk for themselves, and the real instruction begins.
~~
As she stands in front of the bright green silks in front of her, Pidge wants to be literally anywhere else. She watched from the side as Lance demonstrated the basics of climbing the silks, but the distance to where the silks are rigged seemed tremendous, and her hands feel clammy with nerves.
With a deep breath, she grabs the silk in front of her and sticks her foot out the same way Lance had. She twists her foot counterclockwise around the silk, and with a heave, jumps up, scrambling to get her other foot on top. She slips for a moment, and then her feet are on the soft mat beneath the silk.
“Well, that’s not how I imagined this would go,” Pidge mutters, untangling her leg from the silk. She grabs the fabric again, twisting her foot in the same way, and then pauses. To her right, Matt is halfway to the top of his own silk.
“I don’t know why this is so hard,” she grumbles.
Nearby, Lance shrugs. “Have you spent the last ten years of your life pulling yourself up silks?” he asks like he knows the answer. Because of course he does
“No,” Pidge replies. “But the mechanics of it are simple. I’ve seen you do this over and over. Even Matt can do it!” Pidge points to her brother who is nearly at the top of his silk.
“Matt has terrible form,” Lance counters with ease. Above him, Matt squeaks indignantly. “And I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, so instead of comparing yourself to me, or him, let’s see you give it one more try.”
It’s a challenge. The way his eyebrow quirks up, the tone of his voice part encouraging and part teasing. As if to say “Prove me wrong, Pidge. Show me what you’re made of.”
Pidge grabs the silk again, and wraps her leg around it. Her hands are even more sweaty with Lance watching her, but she holds tight and pulls herself up, half pulling and half jumping into the air. She slams her free foot on top of the silks, and she’s in the air.
Not too far off the ground, but it’s a better start than she’s had all night. She sticks her tongue out at Lance, then adjusts her grip higher on the silks, and moves her feet.
This is the hard part. Pidge knew she wasn’t the strongest, but now she’s facing the realization that even lifting her legs from hanging is a bigger effort than she could have imagined. But Lance is watching, and so is Matt, from where he seems to be trapped at the top of his silk, eyeing his descent worriedly.
Pidge flails a bit as she wraps her foot again; in the process of lifting her legs, she’d lost the wrap around her leg. But she manages to redo the wrap, and then smash her free foot down again. It’s a huge relief, and she stands up, now just less than halfway up her silk.
And she’s exhausted. The moments of free hanging have her arms shaking and her abs burning. But below her, Lance is smiling.
It’s a different kind of smile. A little self satisfied, but he looks more proud than smug.
“Great job and all, Pidge,” Matt says “but can someone please explain how I’m supposed to get down without becoming a pancake?”
~~
Once everyone has fumbled through climbing, Lance moves on to teaching their first real tricks. Pidge watches as he demonstrates the basics of a foot lock. It’s just a way to wrap the silk around the foot in a way that prevents the silk from moving, and Pidge is impressed at how something so simple is so effective.
Lance starts them from the ground, repeatedly wrapping and unwrapping the silk. He walks past everyone in the class and offers individual tips. Pidge and Matt are the last two he checks on. They both successfully create the foot lock, Lance nodding in approval.
“Alright, so it looks like you all got your foot lock, so I’m going to walk through three simple tricks that I want you all to try.” Lane effortlessly wraps his foot in a foot lock, going slow to demonstrate the process.
“Once you’ve got your foot lock on, separate the silks, and step up. You’ll want to keep your leg with the foot lock straight, to act as a base. Then, our first trick is called banana. Put your free foot in the silks on top of your locked foot, and then lean forward while holding both silks.” Lance moves as he gives instructions, and at the end, he’s leaning out, his hips pushed forward, the line of his body a curve that you might be able to compare to a banana. He pulls himself back to the silks and removes his free foot from on top of his locked foot.
“The second trick is called banana split, and it’s exactly the same, but you put your free leg out and point it forwards.” He demonstrates again, pushing his body forward, this time including his left leg. “This one will probably feel a little more scary, but it’s the same principle.” Lance pulls himself back a third time and puts his free foot on his locked foot again.
“Finally, we’ve got waterfall. This one is pretty easy, but it looks nice and artistic. Just make sure your feet are together in the silks, and lower yourself to be squatting in the silks.” Lance moves so slow as he demonstrates, his hands never leaving the silks, but moving like liquid. His knees jut out in front of him, but he does look like he’s just squatting until he leans back. “The last bit is where it counts. It’s just leaning back from the squat, but you can really make it your own with how you move to get here.”
As with everything else so far, trying the moves for herself is harder than Pidge first imagines. She suspects part of the difficulty is that they spent the first thirty minutes of class warming up, and Pidge hasn’t done consistent exercise in quite a while. But even after stepping up into her foot lock, Pidge feels tired. What she also doesn’t expect is for the foot lock to hurt.
It feels like her foot is being crushed, and for a moment, she wonders if she should ask Lance about the pain. But Matt beats her to the punch.
“Is it supposed to hurt so much,” her brother asks. Several of the other students look a little relieved when he mentions his discomfort.
“Ahh, sorry about that,” Lance says, rubbing the back of his head apologetically. “I always forget that most people find foot locks uncomfortable at first. The pain will go away in time. Once you kill your nerve endings.” Pidge shares a worried look with Matt, and wonders not for the first time tonight if this might be the hobby of masochists. Shiro included. Lance casually waves off the looks of concern that seem to sweep the room.
“After a few weeks,”Lance offers, “you won’t even remember what the pain feels like. Either that, or aerials might not be the hobby for you.” He shrugs, and Pidge is certain. Masochists, all of them.
~~
Later, in the car, Pidge can feel her whole body ache, but she can’t deny that the class was fun.
“So, out of ten, how did you like it?” Matt asks. She considers for a moment.
“Ten out of ten for getting to see you fumble while talking with Shiro, seven out of ten for the class,” Pidge says. She hasn’t forgotten her main reason for showing up, and it’s to try and make her brother use actual words and tell Shiro how much he likes him.
“I thought it was more of an eight, but I also didn’t spend the whole class making eyes at the teacher,” Matt counters, skirting around her Shiro comment completely.
“I do not make eyes, Matt,” Pidge shoots back. “If anything, I spent most of class glaring at the dumb silks.”
“I dunno,” Matt says. “Lance is pretty cute, and the two of you seemed to hit it off pretty well.”
“I’ve never met a teacher who doesn’t love me,” Pidge replies. “I’m a good student. That’s all.”
Matt shrugs, and starts the car. “So you’re not disagreeing with the cute assessment.”
Pidge is glad they’re in the car where no one can hear her half-groan, half-screech as she gently punches her brother’s shoulder in retaliation.
Matt is right, though. Lance is cute. Maybe Pidge likes the way they clicked so quickly. And maybe Pidge did use watching him demonstrate moves as an excuse to stare at his very toned arms and nice face. But that doesn’t have to mean anything.
She’s too busy to let it mean anything.