Chapter Text
Lance’s palms were sweaty.
He was at Keith’s place, suffering in the awkward silence that stemmed from being in a practical stranger’s house. There were three of them there, sat on the floor around a circular table. Keith was to Lance’s right, loudly crunching on a badly burnt chocolate chip cookie. To his left, Pidge was scrolling on her phone in an attempt to fight the awkwardness.
Goddamn it. This is what happens when Hunk is late.
Lance wasn’t bad at social situations, but Hunk had a knack for getting people to talk. His warmth spread easily, and Lance would be lying if he said he didn’t envy him. Hunk would be able to help the three of them bond, to vanquish the terrible beast of uncomfortable that towered in the room.
There was also another factor in this too. Lance could usually step up in Hunk’s absence and act confident, but his stupid mind was hyper aware of Keith on his right side. He saw me cry, he saw me cry, he saw me cry…
That was only this morning. Time was a weird thing.
Knock knock knock.
Keith hopped up, as if he had been waiting desperately for that moment, and opened the door. From behind him, Lance could see yellow fabric.
“Hey guys!” Hunk greeted warmly.
“Hunk,” Pidged smiled, “Thank God.”
Hunk followed Keith to the table and took the seat across Lance. “Did I miss much?”
“Just awkwardness,” Pidge bluntly stated, “and Keith’s cookies.” She gestured to the worst centerpiece ever: a plate of Keith’s poor cookies in the middle of the table.
The moment Hunk made eye contact with the pitiful cookies, Lance knew that they were about to get an education.
“Keith,” Hunk’s voice was deadly serious.
“Uh, yeah?” Keith seemed tense. Serious Hunk was something that he had less experience with.
“You…” Hunk paused, then put his hand on Keith’s shoulder, “I’m glad you tried.”
Lance fought the urge to laugh. Hunk sounded like a teacher talking to a student way behind their peers. He wasn’t trying to be patronizing, Lance knew, but it sure came across that way.
“Is that...is that a compliment?” Lance had never seen Keith look so unsure.
“I...yes, somehow,”Hunk responded, “but I can’t just let you go through life without knowing how to make chocolate chip cookies.” Hunk stood up and clapped his hands. “Do you have leftover ingredients?”
“I...yeah?”
“Perfect! Let’s make another batch then, the Hunk way.” Hunk had a kind smile, but Lance noticed he hadn’t actually asked permission. He glanced at Keith, who was a mix of confused and embarrassed.
Pidge stood up. “That sounds like a great idea, Hunk.”
The two went towards Keith’s kitchen. Keith gave Lance a questioning look.
“I dunno man,” Lance shrugged, “Just go with it. At least we got something to do now.”
Keith shrugged back at Lance, and the two followed Pidge and Hunk. Somehow, Hunk had already managed to find all the proper ingredients in the foreign kitchen. They were lined up across the counter: eggs, butter, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, salt, and of course, chocolate chips. Hunk opened up the flour, which was right next to Lance, and turned around to wash his hands. Lance stared at the flour.
While Hunk’s arrival had lightened some of the tension in the room, there was still what felt like a little cloud hanging over the four. Maybe it was the fact that Pidge was the only person in the group that knew everyone but she had barely said anything since she arrived. Lance’s mind flashed back to what had happened to Matt and Shiro, and guilt rose up in his stomach. He and Hunk should be the ones trying to get their minds off things.
He glanced again at the flour. Maybe he could help.
Lance grabbed a handful of flour and threw it to his left, just where Keith happened to be. Keith reacted in slow motion; Lance could easily read his face. At first he was confused, looking at his powdery clothes, then at Lance’s hand. Once he registered what happened, there was a moment of shock, followed a small smile of mischief.
Before Lance could even tense up, Keith pushed him back slightly, thrust his hand into the bag of flour, and aimed for Lance’s pretty face. Keith was a good shot; Lance knew he probably looked like he had the worst case of dandruff known to man.
“Oh, it’s on!” Lance rushed to the flour, and chucked it at Keith’s face.
Keith was prepared. As soon as the first bits of flour left Lance’s hand, Keith had already side-stepped out of the way. The flour comet crash landed on top of poor Pidge’s head.
Keith and Lance froze. To their left, Hunk turned the tap off. Pidge looked up at Lance, flour dust swirling around her. When their eyes met, Lance knew that he was dead.
“You have made an enemy. Keith, I’m definitely on your side.”
“There’s another bag of flour in the cupboard above you!” Keith yelled while Lance dove for the already open flour.
“Hunk! Buddy! You gotta come save me!” Lance started slinging flour at Keith like a drunk snowstorm.
Hunk sighed, but went to Lance’s side.
There was an epic battle for a few minutes. By the time Hunk broke it up, stating that they needed to make sure they had enough flour for the cookies, they were all covered.
“Truce?” Lance asked Keith with and outstretched hand.
Keith shook it. “Fine,” he sighed, and surveyed the kitchen. “I spent so much time cleaning before you guys came.”
All your fault Lance, you little-
“Aw, you wanted to impress us, Mullet?” Lance teased, eager to distract himself from the train of thoughts. He’d had okay day after talking to Allura that morning, and he didn’t want to get caught thinking again.
“Shut up,” Keith said, and turned away from Lance. “Hunk, what can we do to help?”
With the power of teamwork, they had cookies in the oven. As the four waited for them to bake, they went back to their places around the table. Hunk was making small talk, saving them all from the previous awkwardness.
“I saw my grade this afternoon, and man. I spent so many hours of my life on that paper for Iverson and barely escaped with a B.”
“That’s not a bad grade, Hunk.” Lance mumbled. It wasn’t bad for him, anyway.
“I haven’t checked yet, but Hunk and I are probably in the same boat,” Pidge added. That was probably a lie to make the three of them feel better, Lance noted. She was good at rhetorical analysis, or really anything that involved picking things apart.
“I haven’t finished it yet,” Keith admitted, “but I probably won’t do well.”
“Same,” Lance responded. He’d been putting off the paper for awhile now.
Pidge turned to him. “I understand Keith still working on it, but Lance, you’ve been at school this whole time and the paper was due three days ago. What have you been doing?”
Destroying people’s lives and wallowing in useless self pity like a piece of shit.
Lance shrugged. “I wasn’t really feeling it. Still gotta figure out my conclusion.”
As Pidge rolled her eyes, Hunk gave Lance a concerned look.
Oh shit. He heard me have a meltdown about it before.
“I could help you with it,” Hunk offered, looking him dead in the eyes. “You seemed really...stressed out about it a couple of days ago.”
At that, Lance felt three pairs of eyes on him. Even though they were people he knew, every inch of Lance’s skin squirmed. He needed the attention off of him, now.
“Sure,” He answered with a fake smile, then glanced at Keith and Pidge. “So...how are you guys doing?”
Once again, there was a thickness in the atmosphere. This weight was more volatile this time, different to the uncomfortable crushing of awkwardness from earlier. It more similar to the suffocation of loss.
After a moment, Pidge replied. “Not good. Matt…” She glanced at Keith. “Matt and Shiro are-they were in a car accident. They swerved and went into the river. Which means... they’re gone.”
Keith spoke up. “Well, we don’t know that. They haven’t found any bodies, and they’re police officers, how could they just drive into water and-”
“Shut the fuck up, Keith. They’re gone.” For such harsh words, Pidge’s voice was monotone and unfeeling. It left the group silent for a bit, until Hunk spoke up quietly.
“Pidge, that’s not-”
“They’re alive!” Keith shouted, The force of his words startled Lance. “I’m not giving up on Shiro. Why don’t you have some goddamn faith, Pidge?”
“Guys we need to-” Hunk tried to interject, but he was interrupted again, this time by Pidge.
She stood up and glared at Keith from above. “I don’t want to keep hoping only to be disappointed. Matt would have contacted me or done something to let me know he was okay. They’re fucking dead, Keith! Shiro is dead!”
Keith stood, and Lance knew it was only going south. He jumped up and turned to Keith, putting his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t be a hothead Keith, calm down.”
Keith swatted his hand away. “Fuck you, Lance! I thought you believed me!”
“Lance, you fucking knew? And you believe-”
Now Hunk was up. “Pidge, please stop yelling.”
Lance was still focused on Keith. “I just don’t want you to punch another person and regret it! You need to calm down.” He put his hand on Keith’s left shoulder again, this time more firmly.
Their eyes locked, and for a second Lance swore that Keith was going to deck him. His eyes seemed primal, pupils dilated and iris that weird color Lance still couldn’t place. For a moment, the two just stared at each other without breathing, the air too heavy to take into lungs. But eventually, Keith’s eyes lost their sharpness and Lance felt his shoulder relax.
“Fine.” Keith said, breaking eye contact.
Lance turned around, noticing that the room was silent. He wondered where Pidge was for a couple seconds, since all he could see was Hunk. Then he spotted her. Pidge was wrapped up in Hunk’s arms, shoulders shaking in a quiet sob.
This is your fault for asking the question. You should just leave so you don’t hurt them anymore.
“Pidge, I-I’m so sorry.” Lance moved towards her and joined in on the hug. He closed his eyes.
Please, let this be one thing that I don’t fuck up anymore.
Lance felt someone looking at them. He opened his eyes and saw Keith, awkwardly standing to the side. Lance felt guilty again.
“Keith, man, get-”
Beep!
Lance jumped a little. The cookies were done.
Before Lance could restart offering Keith a place in the hug, Keith started walking towards the kitchen.
“I’ll take the cookies out of the oven,” He mumbled, not looking at any of them as he passed by.
------
They were back at the table again. The cookies were painfully hot, but each of them were still nibbling on one. They were quality, Lance thought, but the real reason they were all eating was to once again fight the uneasiness that claimed the group.
“These are good,” Lance stated, and instantly cringed. This was painful.
“Right?” Hunk responded. “Keith, now you know exactly what to do. Minus the flour fight.”
Keith turned his attention away from his cookie and looked up at Hunk. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it by myself, but thanks.”
They settled into silence for a bit.
Why don’t you fix this? You’re always using you mouth to say stupid shit, why can’t you just fucking say something when it counts? You really can’t help at all, can you, you-
Pidge’s phone dinged. She checked it right away.
“My mom’s texting. I should probably get home.” She stood up quickly.
Keith followed suit. “You should take some cookies home. For your parents.”
“I...sure.” Pidge transferred her weight from foot to foot while looking at the ground.
Keith got a Ziploc from the kitchen, filled it with the still-warm cookies and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
Slowly, Pidge took them. “Thanks, Keith. And...sorry.” She turned around to leave. “See you guys later.”
As the door shut behind her, Hunk spoke up. “I should probably get going too. My parents are out of town, and I got some hungry siblings to make dinner for.”
“Okay,” Keith nodded robotically, “Wanna take home cookies?”
“Nah, I’d much rather not have a bunch of hyper kids to watch over. But thanks, Keith.” As he talked, Hunk stood up. “See you both soon.”
As the door shut a second time, Lance became hyper aware that he was alone with Keith. He felt his palms becoming coated with sweat again. Unknowingly, Keith took the seat to Lance’s right again, so close that their knees brushed each other. It was quiet until Lance couldn’t take it anymore.
“Uh...Allura appreciated the cookies this morning.”
“That’s good.”
Silence again.
They really didn’t know each other, Lance realized. They had teased and bickered plenty, but they hadn’t really talked until this week. What could they even say to each other now?
Lance could see himself in third person, all sweaty and nervous and dumb-looking. He was making Keith uncomfortable, wasn’t he? His fingers started playing with his jacket zipper.
You really don’t know how to talk to people. You should just leave now and stop making Keith feel bad. Really, just leave and don’t ever talk to him again, or better yet, leave the city and never come back.
Lance felt himself breathing quicker than normal, his heartbeat elevating along with it. Could Keith tell? Of course he can, you’re breathing like a fat cow that-
“Hey.”
Lance’s head snapped up to look at Keith. He hadn’t realized he was staring intently at the ground.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” Keith asked.
That caught Lance off guard. “Like-like where?”
“I don’t know,” Keith ran his hand through his hair. “Are you hungry?”
“Um,” Lance was, a little bit, but for some reason the thought of eating in front of Keith made him more nervous. “Not really.”
“Oh okay.” Keith sounded disappointed, Lance noticed with a sinking heart. There he was, fucking this up again.
“How about just going for a drive?” Keith suggested.
“Sure,” Lance agreed quickly, not wanting to disappoint him. “I don’t really know what route to take, but I guess it doesn’t matter.” He pulled out his keys from his pocket and stood up.
“No problem,” Keith got on his feet and walked to a little closet next to the door. Calmly, he grabbed something and chucked it at Lance. Lance managed to catch it, but was inches away from a concussion.
He examined the object. “It’s a...helmet.”
Across him, Keith smiled. “I’ll drive.”