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Lance yawns as he stretches himself long, sprawling his limbs. “Thanks for supper, dude.”
“No problem, man.” Hunk says, opening an eye to glance at him. He looks like a cat, the way his body just slumps into the curve of the seat. Bench? Couch? Whatever this dining room had to the side of the dinner table.
“It’s way better than Coran’s food goo all the time. I’m afraid I’ll get sick of it and never eat again.” Lance says. He shimmies his body upwards so he can use Hunk’s thigh as a pillow. “I miss earth food, so it’s great when Coran lets you cook.”
“Yeah, I’m suffering.” Hunk says. “And he doesn’t let me cook, it’s more like I do my own thing and try not to feel bad about making him cry.”
Lance snorts. He rests his hands on his stomach. “I wish I could show you how to make arepas, dude. Like with eggs and mayonnaise.”
“That sounds gross.” Hunk says. “I mean, I’d eat it, but it sounds gross.”
Lance sits up now.“No way. I thought so too, but my mamá’s friend made them one time, and it was just a staple in our house ever since.”
Hunk feels a little pang whenever he thinks about home - he misses his dad and his uncles, and his sister who he never saw enough because she moved to the city. He misses the warm water and even the sand that burned the soles of your feet and stuck to every part of your skin. He knows Lance misses his giant family, and he feels bad because he went from being constantly surrounded by uncountable family members to four other people, two aliens, and a few mice. He knows Lance misses the ocean, too.
“Anyways.” Lance says, clearing his throat. “Do you think there’s some sort of like, intergalactic messaging system?”
Hunk blinks at the sudden change in conversation, but if Lance doesn’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine, too. “Uh, you mean like what the Galra use to beam messages to other ships?”
“Okay, no.” Lance says. “Like texting or Messenger. LINE.”
“You could ask Allura, she knows like, everything. Or Coran, Coran seems pretty up to date with things.” Hunk offers. “Why?”
“I wanna text some alien babes.” Lance sighs, and Hunk can’t hold back his groan. “What? Hunk, listen. We risk our lives on the regular. Like, there is no break. I don’t want to die without going on a proper date! Without being kissed! That would suck. Then my last thought would be about never being kissed, how lame is that.”
“Pretty lame.” Hunk says. Lance narrows his eyes at him.
“Oh, like you’ve kissed someone before.” Lance clicks his tongue.
“Uh, I kinda have though?” Hunk says, mildly offended.
Lance balks and looks at him. “And you never told me? You’re supposed to tell me everything! I thought I was your best friend!”
Hunk can’t help but laugh a little at him. “I dunno, I-”
“If you say “I don’t kiss and tell” I’m going to shove you out the airlock.” Lance says.
“You’re good with those airlocks, aren’t you buddy.” Hunk teases and Lance huffs, much like he does when Keith gets a jab in that Lance isn’t quick enough to retaliate against. “Sorry. I dunno, I’ve kissed a few people, man.”
“A few?” Lance says.
Hunk shrugs. He lived on a beach. He worked at a surf shop, and hey, there were lots of tourists and a beach bar right next door. He tells Lance as such, slowly regretting it as his mouth turns upwards in a jealous pout.
“Did you sleep with anyone?” Lance asks, and he’s not being obnoxious, now. Hunk rubs the back of his neck as he nods. “What the hell, dude. Teach me your ways.”
“Um, not to be negative, but my only experience is with humans not, you know, aliens, so I doubt my advice would go very far.” Hunk says.
“True.” Lance nods, fingers tapping his chin as he thinks. “Like, they might not even kiss the same way. Like what if their kissing is something totally weird for us. I mean, I’d probably be into it, but it might be hard to get it started, I guess.”
Hunk hums in agreement. The doors to the room swoosh open, and Hunk leans his head back to see Pidge walking through with her laptop.
“Hey.” Hunk says. “Whatcha doin?”
“Looking for a stronger download signal.” She says, eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes don’t leave the screen. “You?”
“Talking about alien sex.” Lance says, before Hunk can speak.
“Dude!” Hunk groans.
Pidge clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. “Alright. Bye.”
“Pidge!” Hunk calls out after her, but the doors swish closed. He turns back to Lance with his deadest look in his eyes. “ Dude .”
“What?” Lance shrugs. “We were!”
“Not!” Hunk sighs. “Not explicitly, though! She’s fourteen! Let her live!”
Lance waves his hand. “Whatever - hey! Do you think Pidge has kissed anyone yet? You said she had a girlfriend, right?”
“I dunno, dude!” Hunk says. “You’d have to ask her.”
Lance hums, and slumps forward, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Hey.” Hunk says, resting his hand on Lance’s back. He notices vaguely how it seems to cover half of his slim width. Lance was tall and had a big presence, but right now he looked kind of ...small. And as silly as worrying over being kissed seemed to be, it was important to Lance. He needs attention to live, pretty much, and perhaps even moreseo than that he needs validation - Hunk has known him long enough and he’s pretty sure even Keith could figure that bit out.
Lance looks up at him, his eyes a mixture of annoyance at being pitied but also gratefulness for the comfort.
“Maybe Allura will come around one day.” Lance says, just as Hunk has a brilliant (okay, maybe not brilliant ) idea, “You could kiss me?”
“What?” Lance says, leaning back.
“What?” Hunk says, laughing nervously. He feels his cheeks flush hotly, and waves his hands. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Hunk.” Lance says, peering at him.
“Yeah dude?” Hunk says, as casually as he can manage. He’s honestly just trying to help.
“Are you serious about that?” Hunk thinks for a moment that Lance is rejecting his offer (which, fair, no offence taken) but the underlying insecurity seeps from his voice, and Hunk nods.
“Of course, man. If it’d stop you from worrying about it, why not?” Hunk shrugs.
Lance stares at him, eyes flitting to his lips again and again before Hunk has to say something because he isn’t moving. Or talking, which is seriously creeping him out.
“No pressure.” Hunk shrugs.
“I know!” Lance practically yells. “I’m working up to it!”
“Okay, I’ll just be here.” Hunk says. “Waiting.”
“Actually nevermind can you do it?” Lance says, sounding like he’s trying to rip off a bandaid. He scrunches his eyes tight.
“What like right now?” Hunk asks, trying not to laugh at Lance’s concentrated face. He expected him to purse his lips though, so he’s not doing too poorly.
“Yes ‘like right now’, Hunk.” Lance says, huffing.
Hunk lets out his chuckle, then leans forward. He puts one hand on Lance’s skinny arm, the other set to cradle his jaw. His skin is really soft against his fingertips, and he smells like heavy scented soaps - where did he even get this beauty stuff in space? Did Lush deliver intergalactically?
Lance fidgets a little and Hunk realizes he’s not moving - oops. He closes his eyes and presses his mouth softly against Lance’s thin lips, which are surprisingly cold. Must be the nervousness. He moves his lips gently, pressing closed mouthed kisses against him so languidly, there’s no telling where one begins and the other ends. He parts Lance’s lips with his own, just slightly, enough to make it a little wetter, a little easier to slide against his mouth. Lance whimpers, and Hunk feels suddenly embarrassed at hearing his friend make such a sound.
He pulls back, and sees that Lance’s face is flushed red across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He’s staring at him wide eyed and ...pleased? He looks pleased. That’s nice, Hunk supposes.
“Por Dios, you’re really good at that.” Lance says, bringing slender fingers up to brush his lips. He’s smiling a little. “Can… can you do that again? For practice.”
Hunk snorts softly through his nose. “Yeah, for practice. Science. Whatever you want to call it.”
Lance has the gall to pout and look kind of cute while he’s at it, and Hunk giggles at him openly. “Don’t make fun of me dude.”
“I’m not, I’m not…” Hunk trails off as he leans in again. This time Lance is more pliant against him, leaning into his touch and mimicking the movement of his lips.
Hunk almost jumps when he feels fingers thread through his hair, and he can’t help but smile. He sucks on Lance’s bottom lip, eliciting another pleased whine, and honestly he should have known Lance would be noisy with just about everything in life.
He does jump when Lance slips his tongue out and drags it slowly across his bottom lip.
“Was that bad?” Lance worries. “That was bad, wasn’t it - I thought, like, in movies-”
“No it’s fine.” Hunk says. Lance’s breath his hot on his skin and it’s starting to dawn on him that he’s literally kissing (giving kissing lessons to? Something?? What?) his best friend, and he doesn’t mind it all that much. Who knows when they would get down time again - or even get back to earth. Maybe he could see the appeal that Lance was so hung up over, after all. “Just do what feels good.”
He doesn’t miss Lance’s quickly reddening face. The flutter of his eyelashes over deep blue mirrors the flutter in Hunk’s stomach when Lance pulls him into a hungry kiss. He ignores the clack of teeth, mostly because Lance is boldly climbing into his lap.
“Can I do that?” Lance asks. Hunk’s never felt nervous about this kind of thing before, but Lance is making him sweat. In a good way, though, maybe. Good sweating, yeah. He nods and settles his hands on Lance’s hips.
“That okay?” he asks, his lips brushing against Lance’s neck. He feels him shiver on top of him, but he hears his yeah, dude nice and clear. He can practically touch his fingers together around Lance’s lanky middle. Lanky Lance. He chuckles a little, probably making Lance nervous again but he can’t help it, really. He feels Lance’s fingers grasp at the fabric on his shoulders as he wetly kisses his neck, the occasional pant ruffling into his hair, where his fingers still card through.
There’s a clatter behind them, and Hunk’s forehead collides with Lance’s high cheekbone when they whip their heads up in a panic.
Lance is frozen on top of him, face somehow drained of colour but impossibly bright red to the tips of his ears. “KEITH? What the fuck, dude? Creeping much?”
“I was getting a snack!” Keith yells back. Hunk wants to die. Forget kissing, he just wants the couch bench thing to swallow him whole and eject him into space.
“When did you even get here?”
“Um, I came in with Pidge ?” Keith sounds offended.
“I didn’t see you! Hunk, did you see him?” Lance says, still yelling. Still gripping Hunk’s shoulder with one hand, still sitting on his lap.
“Nope, didn’t see him.” Hunk manages to breathe out. This is so embarrassing. Where’s a black hole when you need one?
“I came in right after her!” Keith says. “You guys were talking about alien sex and she left but I still wanted some leftovers!”
“You’re supposed to eat leftovers the day after, dumbass, not an hour after dinner.” Lance says, clicking his tongue.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Keith shouts.”How was I supposed to know you were gonna start making out?”
“You could have left ?” Lance says, exasperated, throwing his hands up.
“I was going to! After I got my snack! But you started squealing and it...fucking threw me off. Lance.” Keith says awkwardly. Hunk has his eyes closed, waiting for the sweet embrace of death. Instead he gets a facefull of Lance’s hand as he climbs off of him to yell at Keith properly.
“I don’t squeal !” Lance scoffs, offended.
Hunk tunes them out now, and rests his head back. That could have ended in better ways. But next time maybe they could opt for somewhere less public than literally the most frequently occupied space on the castleship. Besides the training (aka Team Bonding) deck, that is. And, “next time”? Was this gonna be a regular thing?
Hunk glances over at Lance, still yelling at Keith who, bless his awkward soul, is just trying to clean leftovers and food goo off of the dining table and make his escape. Hunk’s eyes travel down to Lannce’s skinny ass and cocked hip. He has his own scrawny charm. Yeah. Yeah, this could be a regular thing.