Chapter Text
Lance patted Hunk on the back as they left the fighter ship simulation pod with Pidge. That flight was… not their best.
“Hey buddy, don’t worry, okay? Everyone has off days. You’ll keep your lunch down one of these days.”
Hunk smiled ruefully as he wiped his arm across his mouth. “And I know you’ll beat that asteroid belt soon too,” Hunk assured him.
“Cadets!” Iverson’s sharp voice rang across the garrison training hanger. “That was one of the most pathetic excuses for a flight simulation I’ve ever seen!”
A few other cadets hid snickers behind their hands, a few offered them consolatory glances, and a couple outright smirked at their failure. Lance’s hands formed tight fists at his sides as he stared at the wall far behind Iverson.
“That’s not fair, sir!” Pidge said. “There was something wrong with-“
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Gunderson! Things go wrong in the field, too, and you have to deal with it or you die!” Iverson snapped.
“Yeah but-“
“I think what he means, sir,” Lance interrupted before Pidge got himself in real trouble, “is that we are still students.”
“Still students?” Iverson glared at him. “Did you see any of the other students fail that miserably?”
Lance’s fingernails dug into the palm of his hand painfully.
“Well?” Iverson prompted.
“No, sir,” Lance ground out.
“Don’t forget why you are here, McClain.” Iverson sneered.
“It’s Espejo McClain, sir.”
“What?” Iverson asked coldly.
“My last names are Espejo McClain.”
“Are you giving me lip, cadet ?”
Lance glanced at Hunk who was silently pleading with him, fear shining in his eyes. Beside Iverson, Lance saw James’ eyes dancing with mirth. Lance wanted to punch that smug bastard right in the face.
“No, sir.”
“Cadet Kogane would have passed that trial with flying colours.” Iverson pointed at the simulation pod. “How you were chosen as his replacement I’ll never know. You better try harder if you want a chance at staying here.”
Pidge growled beside him and started to open his mouth. Lance snapped a salute and “accidentally” clipped Pidge in the head. “Yes, sir.”
“You are dismissed, Cadet McClain.” Looking even more disappointed and justified by the clumsy cadet in front of him.
“Yes sir.” Lance said and all but fled the hanger.
“Dude, what the fuck?!” Pidge snapped at him as soon as they were in the hallway. “Why did you stop me from telling him where to stick his racist favouritism?”
“Because I like our three man team and I don’t want to scrub toilets for a month or run laps until we all puke,” Lance retorted. “I love the spirit, dude, but sometimes you just gotta accept bullshit from the higher ranks.”
Fire blazed in Pidge’s eyes and Lance knew he was about to get an earful.
“So, cadet Espe-ho McClain,” a boy’s voice sneered behind them. “How was the simulation? Did you purposely weave that much to see how quick you could get your mechanic to hurl?”
All three turned to glare at James.
Jame’s friend, Ryan, sighed with impatience and crossed his arms. “Really, dude?”
“Shut the fuck up, Griffin,” Lance spat. “And its Espejo not Espe-ho. You sound like an idiot. More than usual.”
Hunk smirked and Pidge cackled.
“I don’t need attitude from you, McClain.”
“Clearly. You’ve got enough of your own there.” Lance replied with his own smirk, crossing his arms.
“You better heed Iverson’s warning or you’ll never keep up with us.” James growled, red tinting his cheeks.
“Oh, cause being the teacher’s pet takes sooo much hard work,” Pidge taunted.
Ryan put his hand on James' shoulder before he could escalate things. “Let’s just go, man.”
“Whatever.” James shrugged off Ryan’s hand. “Just watch yourself, Luis.” He snarled, pushing past Lance and stalking off.
“It’s Lance now, Dickhead.” Lance yelled down the hall at their retreating backs.
“We should go, too.” Hunk said, putting a comforting hand on Lance's shoulder. “I need to brush my teeth.”
“And change your jacket.” Lance teased, trying to not let James comments get to him.
Lance’s shoulders hitched towards his ears as the trio walked back to their rooms. As much as he tried not to let the snide—and outright rude—comments get to him it was hard. He was trying. Sorry that he didn’t magically pick things up instantly with no errors. He needed to learn things. He needed time to learn things. He wasn’t a natural like ‘perfect Keith,’ but he had earned his place, dammit.
To hear the teachers talk, Keith was the poster child for everything a Garrison officer should be, and not some emotionally stunted emo deject who got expelled for punching Iverson in the face.
God, how could Keith still be better than Lance considering all that? He couldn’t be and yet he was. Jealousy wound like a snake in his gut, writhing and angry. He hated Keith. Lance worked so hard to improve all his studies and Keith was literally kicked out of the program. Even so, Lance was in a shadow so dark he didn’t know if he would ever see the light.
His hand subconsciously drifted up to pause over his heart, where his Soulmark had appeared a few years before. It comforted him to remember that someday he would meet his Soulmate. Someone who would see all his good qualities as well as his flaws and love him unconditionally. Someone he could turn to that would heal his aching heart. He couldn’t wait to meet them.
Later that night Lance took off his shirt and inspected his Soulmark in the mirror. He honestly couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. He knew that Soulmarks came in all sorts of scripts but this was just ridiculous. The font was like a new style of Wingdings; he couldn't determine a single letter with certainty and he had been studying it for years. There were curves and spaces and some letters were made of multiple unconnected parts. The second symbol looked like it could be an ‘o’. Or was that an ‘r’?
Lance cocked his head as if a new angle would help. Actually… he squinted at it. Yeah, the first symbol did look kinda like a “Y”. His Soulmate was some kind of artist. He just knew it. Only a creative soul would have this as their font.
He wondered what his name looked like on his Soulmate's skin. What font would it be? Would it really reflect his personality? He wished the first name his Soulmate knew him by was his chosen name and not his birth name, but he knew that’s not how it worked.
He was startled out of his inspection when Hunk swung the door wide open.
“Hey, dude, I was just talking to Pidge—“ Hunk stopped short and stared at Lance’s chest. “Oh, cool tattoo! Your parents let you get one before coming here? I’m so jealous!”
Hunk sat down on his bed still admiring Lance’s Soulmark. “I really wanted one to honour my moms and my Polinysian heritage, but they wouldn’t approve it. They said when I turn 18 I can do whatever I want, but until then I’ll be tattoo free. Only another year though! I have a place back home that I want to go to.”
Lance laughed. “That’s really sweet, Hunk. I knew you were always a big softie. But this isn’t a tattoo, it’s my Soulmark!”
“Oh really?” Hunk got up so he could get a closer look at it. “I’ve never seen one with a font anything like that. I can’t even read it.”
“I know,” Lance whined. “Me neither! Though I think this first letter is a ‘Y’?”
Hunk shot him a skeptical look, the kind that said he might call the counselor for his poor distressed roommate.
“No, look! Tilt your head to the side and kinda squint your eyes. Doesn't it kinda look like it kind of attaches there and resembles a ‘Y’?”
“Oookkayyyy—Oh! Wait, yeah! It totally does. The second one kinda looks like an ‘o,’ too!”
“Thank you! I was just thinking that!” Lance cried. “Man, I’m gonna be so old by the time I figure this out.”
“Why don’t you take a break from this and join Pidge and I for a movie in the TV room?” Hunk asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “I don’t know how he manages it but he’s always able to book the TV room on such short notice!”
“Yeah, he must have incredible luck to always catch someone cancelling at the last second,” Lance said, putting his shirt back on. “What movie is it tonight?”
“Oh, it’s got to be some kinda comedy.”
“That’s always your pick!” Lance complained. “You gotta spice it up a bit. Throw some space adventures in there! We’re in the Galaxy Garrison, after all!”
“Exactly!” Hunk exclaimed. “Space is our daily lives! I wanna see something new and comedies do that!”
“Oh, Pidge will have some words for you, buddy. He’s all about those futuristic sci-fi movies. And paranormal documentaries for some reason.”
Still squabbling, Lance slung his arm around Hunk’s shoulders as the boys left for the movie room, thoughts of soulmates and broody dark hair teens and feelings of inferiority momentarily forgotten.