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Coran’s house was fucking huge. But that’s how dope life treated you when your dad was a real estate tycoon in three different countries and basically all of Australia. It was the perfect place for the perfect after party, and everyone knew without saying where they were going when the best club in town finally started kicking people out in the early morning hours of an April Saturday.
And by ‘everyone,’ he meant the squad. His squad. Lance’s squad, the squad of dreams — the ultimate squad that represented #SQUADLIFE and gave birth to squad goals on a daily basis. And they were gonna continue their #squadlife for the remainder of Saturday and carry it right on through Sunday.
It was about to get dank as fuck up in this place.
At 7 AM, an ungodly siren from Lance’s phone ripped through the dead silence of the morning after. Gasps of “holy shit” and muffled groans rocked the blanket of silence off the members of his squad as Lance crawled out from under Keith’s arm to get to his phone. While the others reveled the return of silence by knocking right the fuck back out, Lance forced himself to his feet and trudged his way out of the room, tip-toeing over the sprawled forms of Shiro and Rax on his way to the kitchen so he could shove a banana into his mouth and take his meds like the responsible adult he was.
He found a box of Captain Crunch two weeks past its expiration date and stuck his hand down the box to draw some into his mouth for a taste. He smacked his lips and leaned on the counter, wiping his hand on his shirt. Still good.
He was pouring cereal and milk into a bowl and listening to Pidge’s terrible snoring when Keith lumbered in, eyes half shut to avoid the stabbing sensation of sudden, bright lights, and blindly groped around for a clean glass. He gave up and grabbed a red solo cup on a stack at the counter instead, filling that shit up with cold water from the tap and downing it all in one go. He tossed the cup somewhere on the floor and slumped onto the counter next to Lance with a long, miserable groan, his face pressed against the cool granite countertop. Lance gave Keith a pat on the back with one hand while he spooned cereal into his mouth with the other.
Hunk stumbled in by the time Lance’s bowl was empty, Coran hanging off his shoulder and the two of them giggling and tripping over Rolo, who must’ve fallen off the couch in the middle of the night because he was lying spread eagle on the carpet and snoring away. The two entered the kitchen, slurring and mumbling at each other:
“Duuude, I smell bacon.”
“We still have bacon?”
“Yeaaaah, we got bacoooon…“
“Hunk, make me some bacon.”
“I got you, bruh.”
“I love you, bod.”
“I love you too, bruh. And I love bacon.”
“I bloody love bacon, too.”
“Bruh.”
Lance felt a strong surge of fondness warming his chest as he watched his teary-eyed bros hug each other right in the middle of the kitchen. The moment was ruined when someone slapped a hand on the counter and said, loudly,
“Where the fuck’s my hug? I want a fucking hug.”
Pidge was squinting across the counter, having lost her glasses somewhere on the way to Coran’s for the after party. She probably had another pair in her bag somewhere upstairs, but damn, that was a fucking hike up two flights of stairs ‘cause her smarty-pants ass called dibs on the bedroom all the way on the third floor.
“Shut uhhhhp, ” Rolo groaned from the living room, turning over on his stomach away from the kitchen and rubbing his drool against the carpet. “I’m tryna sleep…”
Someone crawled out of the hallway, keeping a fleece blanket draped over them with one hand as they crossed through the room on their hands and knees and climbed onto the sofa. With a huff, the blanketed stranger collapsed onto it. Rax trudged out a few seconds later and sat on floor between the sofa and Rolo, tugging on the blanket. “Gimme that,” he groused, “you blanket hog.”
“Get your own,” whined a voice Lance knew belonged to Shiro.
“This is my own,” Rax snapped, yanked the blanket right off Shiro’s head and wrapping it around himself with a scowl. He fell over on the floor with a soft thud. He sniffed noisily, wiping his nose on a corner of the blanket, and made a face. “I smell bacon.”
“Me too.” Shiro poked his head up and leaned his chin on the armrest of the sofa. Lance saw him squinting into from the light of the kitchen. “Who’s cookin’ bacon?” He paused for a second, squinting harder. “Hi Lance. Hi Keith. Hi Pidge. Hi Hunk. Hi Co—”
Rolo tossed his beanie at Shiro’s face. “Fucking— Shut up! You’re worse than Lance off his meds, god damn!”
“Hey!” Lance cried, a tad bit offended. “I thought we were bros!”
The rest of the squad came to the rescue.
“Why’d you gotta say that?”
“Not cool, brah.”
“Piss poor attitude, Rolo.”
“Yeah, apologize.”
“Kiss and make up, you guys.”
“Yeah, and then come and hug me, you shithead.”
“Okay, okay,” Rolo picked up his head and looked at Lance. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t mean it like that. Love you. Keith, kiss Lance for me.”
Keith groaned. “I’m dead. Pidge, you kiss him.”
Pidge scowled. “No, I just want a hug. Hunk, you kiss him.”
“I’m makin’ bacon. Coran, you kiss him.”
“I’m quite alright, thanks. Rax, you do it.”
“No.”
Everyone waited for Rax to add on to his answer. When it was clear that that had apparently been it, everyone turned to Shiro instead.
Shiro sat up, cradling his head in his hands. “Nobody’s kissing anybody. Let’s all just chill for a sec, okay?”
Lance threw his hands in the air. “Thanks, guys, I’m really feeling the love.”
“Bacon’s done!” Hunk hollered, dishing it out on a plate. “Come feed your face!”
Immediately, the island counter was swarmed from all sides. Keith grabbed a strip of bacon from his end of the counter as Pidge and Shiro both argued over who had reached for the strip with the crispiest end first. Hunk was squirting sriracha into his mouth before getting his share of meat and Coran nibbled on the crispy strip Pidge and Shiro were still fighting about. Rax ignored them all and went right to the fridge for avocados and smoked tofu to feed his hungover vegan ass and Rolo just stayed on the floor.
As the crew started to settle down, smiles and grins adorning their faces as they chased away their headaches, Lance was struck with the highest of morning highs as he bore witness to the beautiful sight of his squad breakfasting together, all gathered in the kitchen in an assorted state of hungover, hungry, and horny.
Well, Lance was the horny one. Nyma had been one slick woman and Keith was the worst wingman ever. Plus, the club was really bangin’ out some good “let’s-go-and-fuck” vibes, playing Partition and Needed Me and Feeling Myself and all those other songs that made you wanna grind your hips in other ways. He couldn’t speak for the others, but he was pretty sure Shiro wasn’t a hundred-percent not horny after Allura bailed out right in the middle of what seemed to be a pretty serious chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip bump and grind to go watch Scream Queens with Harlene.
A grand idea took root in his mind, promising even more greatness than his plans for last night that were, clearly, mind blowingly amazing. Lance slid off his seat and stood on the second rung of Hunk’s stool to tower over the others and loudly clap his hands over his head.
“Alright, listen up, guys!” he called out, giving another loud clap. He glanced briefly at Rolo in the living room and saw his hungover ass dozing away on the carpet. “Ay, Rolo! Mirame! I need eyes, man.”
Rolo slowly flopped over onto his back and let his head loll to the left. He sent Lance a dry look, as if to say, “happy, now?”
“There we go. Lookin’ great, man!” Lance grinned his biggest grin and turned back to the others. “First of all,” he plucked Keith’s empty solo cup from his hand and raised it solemnly in the air. “First of all, I just wanna say, I love you guys. Last night, was a huge success thanks to all you guys showing up last minute. I know some of us don’t like to party hard,” Lance looked knowingly to Keith, who was still slumped over on the counter but giving Lance his full attention, “so I appreciate you all still coming out to make what I gotta say was one of the best fucking nights ever.”
Hunk held up a strip of bacon and nodded. “Hear, hear!”
Pidge and Coran followed suit, which made Shiro, Keith, and Rax do the same, except Rax was raising a slice of smoked tofu in place of greasy slices of meat. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance even saw Rolo raise a finger, face fixed with a very serious look.
Lance brushed away an imaginary tear. “Thanks, man. And speaking of thanks—” Lance pointed with the hand that held the empty cup at the smallest of their squad. “Pidge— way to come to through with that VIP table. That set us up to go zero to sixty in no time. It was fucking wild.”
Pidge clicked her tongue and shot Lance with double finger guns. “Anytime, brolance.”
Lance then pointed to the opposite side. “And our man, Hunk! Way to hook us up with them ladies. I dunno how you did it man, but you called in some real hot chicks real fast last night.”
Hunk gave a lazy smile. “What can I say? I’m real sweet in the streets, and a real freak in the sheets.” He winked.
“Eyyy!” Pidge cheered and high-fived Hunk across the counter with a mad grin.
Lance now turned to the two sitting farthest away. “Rax? Shiro? You guys are dank as fuck. You sacrificed the last thirty minutes of clubbing to all the way here and set us up the absolute best after party. We so needed that.”
Everyone nodded, hooting and cheering and clapping Shiro and Rax high fives.
Lance reigned it all in. “Aight, enough about last night! That was Friday. This, my bros,” Lance dropped the solo cup and kicked it with his foot, sending it clattering away somewhere, “This is Saturday. A brand new day, with a brand new plan. Here’s what the Master Lancer is planning.”
He hopped off the stool and slung an arm around Hunk and Coran, pushing his face in with a sly grin and issuing a group huddle. “I say, we head to a sweet place by the sea for a nice squad brunch.”
Lance let a ripple of agreeing murmurs shoot through the group before he went on. “We’ll get our drink on—”
“Yeaaah!” “Nice!” “Whoo!’
“—get us some mimosas, maybe toss in a little sangria to the mix,” Lance stepped back and pumped his fist in the air. “Keep this energy goin’ hard, guys! Let’s ride out these vibes! Round two tonight!”
The group cheered around Lance, bobbing their heads up and down and joining his fist-pump party and chanting. “Round two! Round two! Round two!”
Rolo finally joined them with a sly grin and his phone in hand. “Hey, you guys know that real sweet spot downtown? The one right next to my old apartment? And by the sea?” Rolo pointed at Lance and waved his phone with a wide grin. “I just got us a reservation. We got the whole back room, all for us.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Lance cheered, clapping Rolo on the back as he came around the counter to collect a wave of high-fives from the squad.
Shiro lifted a finger in the air. “I just texted Allura,” he announced, a bright look adorning his face as he looked up from his phone. “She’s bringing her group out to meet us there in twenty minutes.”
“Dude, nice!” “Yaaaas, bring on the ladies!” “Send all the mamacitas over!” “Nice job, Shiro!”
Lance spread his arms out and looked to his squad. “Let’s go, guys — squad brunch?”
Immediately, they cheered: “SQUAD BRUNCH!”
They piled out of the kitchen and trampled through the living room to get to the front door. They hooted and hollered as they jumped down the steps, each one slapping the top of the door-frame on their way out. The sun greeted them with warm, soothing light, and the fresh, clean air sent Lance on a totally new high — a nature’s high. It was fucking beautiful.
Lance was just about ask who was taking who’s car when a tentative voice called out to them from behind.
“Uh, guys?”
They all turned around.
Pidge was poking her head out the doorway, shielding her eyes with a hand.
“What’s up, Pidge?” Lance asked. “Squad brunch, c’mon.”
“Yeah, about that.” Pidge made a face. “I gotta pass. I got a physics final on Monday, plus a family things tomorrow. Today’s kind of my only day to study.”
The group all turned towards each other with downed looks and murmurs.
“Well, fuck, man.” “Yeah.” “That’s too bad.” “Aw, man…” “We’ll miss ya!”
Lance shrugged one shoulder “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
Keith offered a small smile. “There’s always next time, Pidge.”
Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose and stepped back in with a small smile. “Yeah. Thanks, guys.”
Shiro waved. “We’ll catch you later, Pidg—”
The door slammed shut.
Shiro blinked.
The group looked at each other in awkward silence.
“Ooookay,” said Lance, turning back to the group.
Hunk clapped him on the back and grinned. “It’s all good, man. Right?” He raised his hands up and grinned as if he just scored a touchdown. “Squad brunch?”
The group returned the cheer. “SQUAD BRUNCH!”
Lance tapped Hunk on the shoulder with a grin, a silent thanks for bringing back the excitement to the group. Hunk beamed back and slung an arm around Lance’s shoulders.
“Endless sangria,” Hunk just said, drawing a line in front of him with a hand and a wistful eye. “As far as the eye can see.”
“You can’t see anything if you’re knocked right out,” Coran quipped with a laugh.
Hunk shoved him aside with a chuckle. “You’re calling me a lightweight? At least I don’t pass out after two shots.”
Coran was about to retort when, suddenly, a despondent yell echoed from their group.
They’d been walking down the steps of Coran’s giant home and talking amongst themselves when Rolo suddenly broke from the group, flying down the rest of the way and throwing out his hands.
“My car!” he shouted, falling to his knees. “Dude! Guys, guys!” Rolo whirled around, still on his knees. “Have you guys seen my car?”
Lance whistled, the sound long and low. “Ooooh, sorry bro.”
“Uh, no, man.”
“Nah.”
“Damn, you lost your car?”
Hunk squinted his eyes. “You had a car?”
“Yes, I had a car!” Rolo scrambled to his feet and ran to the curb. “I parked it right here!”
“Oh, bugger,” Coran worried, pointing right at the curb. “You parked in the red zone. Your car must have been towed.”
Lance watched Rolo’s mouth drop as the poor guy just stared. Blood was rapidly draining from his face. “Goddammit,” he whispered, sliding his hands through his hair. “Not again! Shit!” He kicked the grass on Coran’s front yard. “I gotta bail, you guys, I— I gotta get to the impound!”
Lance opened his mouth. Then shut it. Then opened it again. “What, right now?”
Shiro elbowed him and gave him a firm look.
Rolo didn’t even care. He just shook his head. “I gotta go, I gotta— Fuck, this is— Damn!” Rolo gestured vaguely behind him and shook his head. “Sorry, guys, I gotta go!”
The group called after Rolo as he ran off.
“O-Okay, yeah.”
“I hope you find your car!”
“Yo, good luck, man!”
“Is he— Is he gonna run all the way there?”
“Should we give him a lift or something?”
The group stared after Rolo running off into the distance in silence. Then they looked to each other.
Lance slowly raised his shoulders. “Squad brunch?”
His group gave each other appraising looks. They gave a variety of responses.
“Yeah, squad brunch.” “Whoo!” “Squad brunch!” “Let’s go, squad brunch!” “Squadala, here we come!”
Lance led the strong survivors of his squad to the street, Coran striding right beside him with the keys to a shiny blue Prius. It was his fourth car and a nice, nice ride. Lance was lowkey in love with it.
Someone caught up to him and lightly thumped his shoulder. It was Rax. “Hey, Lance — Shiro and I are taking my car.”
“Yeah, sure, no prob. We’ll meet you there.” Lance and Rax clasped their and together and leaned in, clapping each other on the back in a classic bro-hug fashion. “Squad brunch?”
Rax nodded. “Squad brunch,” he affirmed, side-stepping to let Coran get to his car.
Lance jumped the curb and followed Coran to the other side of the car. He and Coran opened their doors at the same time as Hunk and Keith did from the other side, in true squad fashion, and—
Wait just a goddamn fucking minute. Something was wrong. Something was fucking wrong, because only three doors had opened. The driver’s side, featuring Coran… The passenger’s side, featuring Hunk… The rear side behind the driver’s seat, featuring Lance…
What the fuck happened to the side featuring Keith?!?
Lance looked up and saw absolutely fucking nobody on the side featuring Keith. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa — ” He slapped his palm on the roof of the car, bringing Hunk and Coran’s attention to him immediately. “Where’s Keith?”
They all stared at each other. Nothing. They stared around the car. Nothing again. They even looked back at the house. Still, nothing. Then, they stared down the street.
Keith was sprinting down the street at full speed. He was already a block away.
Lance threw his hands in the air. “The fuck? What the fuck?”
Coran leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look. “What in the world…?”
Lance seethed. “Did he just fucking ditch without telling us?!”
“Oh, oh!” Hunk waved to them from the passenger’s seat of the car. He was staring down at his phone. “Guys, he just texted me.” His brows furrowed together as he read the text aloud. “Forgot to DVR Project Runway… I’ll see you guys later…”
Lance gave Hunk a blank stare. “You’re fucking kidding me right now.”
“Yeah,” said Hunk with a snort. “Project Runway is ridiculous. They don’t even follow real trends, they just—”
“That’s not the point!” Lance shouted, getting in the car and slamming the door shut. “Ugh, whatever! Just— Let’s just go. Fuck Keith,” he scowled, crossing his arms, “god, I fucking hate him. Ditching us for a fucking runway reality TV show that you could just stream at any given moment. Jesus Christ , god damn.”
“I’m sorry, Lance,” Coran consoled, reaching around the driver’s seat to pat his knee. Coran started the car. “Squad brunch?”
Hunk nodded. “Yeeep. Squad brunch.”
“Yay,” Lance deadpanned. Then he sighed heavily, letting go of his anger, because he wasn’t about to ruin what they still had. At least his squad had some loyal members, however few. “Yeah, squad brunch.”
The Prius drove down the street and had to come to a stop as soon as they reached the end because of the red light hanging above. Rax’s car slowed to a stop just behind them. Lance could see Rax and Shiro chatting together, a genial smile on Shiro’s face as Rax spoke. Good ol’ Shiro. Good ol’ Rax. They were always reliable.
Suddenly, they moved the car to pull up right next to them. The window on the passenger’s side was down, and the two were motioning for them to roll the windows of the Prius down.
Lance gave them both a suspicious look.
Shiro wore a bright, dazzling smile. “Hey, uh, Allura just texted me. She said she and her friends can’t make it, so, uh. So… we’re just gonna bounce.”
Lance’s jaw dropped. “You’re gonna what?”
Hunk and Coran were equally shocked. “What?!” “What for?”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait — Hold up.” Lance shot Shiro a menacing stare. “Were you just coming for the girls?”
Shiro looked to Rax.
Rax blinked, then leaned forward a bit. “Yeah,” he just said.
“What the fucking fuck?” Lance stuck his whole head out the window. “You’re out of the squad! Both of you! You fuckers!”
“Lance!” Hunk pulled him back in by his shirt. “Lance, quit it.” Hunk turned to Shiro. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Shiro’s window rolled up as he and Rax called out to them at the same time.
“Yeah, have fun at squad brunch, guys!” “Peace.”
They watched in silence as Rax’s car ran the red light and high-tailed it out of there, the screech of tires echoing in the empty street.
Lance slammed his head against the back of Coran’s seat. “Squad brunch,” came his miserable mumble.
There was a moment of hesitation before Hunk sighed. “Yeah, brah. Squad brunch.”
“Squad brunch,” Coran agreed.
The Prius stalled in front of the red light even with no other cars in sight, and started moving again only when the light finally turned green.
The lot of Villaggio Verde was decently packed. They parked in a space further in the back, the Prius slowly gliding into the empty spot. As soon as it stopped, Lance clapped his hands and rubbed them together with glee.
“Alright! Let’s do this!” Lance opened the door and got out.
Hunk called after him. “Wait, Lance?”
Lance froze, one foot on the lot and the other hovering just above it. He stared long and hard at his reflection on the parked car next to theirs before taking in a deep breath. Slowly, Lance slid back into the car. He pinned Hunk with a look of forced calm and shut the door.
Neither Hunk nor Coran were looking at him.
Lance grit his teeth. “Oh, you two are not bailing on me right now.”
“Bro, it’s not like that at all—”
Lance cut them off with a shout of complete and utter betrayal. “Woooow! You guys are totally bailing on me right now! You know, I expected this sort of thing from Keith. And Rolo. And Pidge. A-And Shiro. And… And, u-uh—”
Hunk sent him a look. “And Rax?”
“And Rax!” Lance added quickly before sending his last two bros a look of disappointment. “I expected this from all those other guys, but from you two? Ugh.” Lance shook his head. “We’re doing squad brunch.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Lance.” Coran made a face and brought his index and thumb together as close as possible without them actually touching. “We’re just a little… We’re just a tiny… little gathering of sorts now. Not really a squad, per se.”
“Yeah, dude,” said Hunk. “We’re just three guys hogging the entire back room of a nice restaurant, drinking mimosas. It’s weird, man.”
“Quite weird,” Coran agreed.
Lance scoffed. “Yeah, okay, alright. Well. You two can both go and do whatever the fuck’s so important that’s keeping you—"
“Lance, we told you that wasn’t it, brah—”
“—whatever’s keeping you from going to squad brunch,” Lance finished viciously. “But guess what?” Lance slapped his hands on the back of both head-rests and leaned right in. “I’m going to squad brunch.”
With that said, Lance climbed out of the car at last. He was closing the door when he heard Hunk mutter under his breath:
“If it's just him going, it’s not a squad brunch.”
He ripped opened the door, making Hunk scream and Coran jump in his seat, and hissed savagely, “It’s a fucking squad brunch.”
Lance slammed the car door and went to his squad brunch.