Chapter Text
Okay. Okay. We both like each other. There's no fear of rejection. So we should date. I should tell her. I can tell her. I just need to walk up to her and say it.
He repeated it to himself over and over, pacing the hallways with his hair still wet from the shower, wishing he were watching the movie with Pidge and Hunk. But he couldn't. It was still awkward with her. Even more awkward now that the feelings were mutual.
Or at least, now that he knew the feelings were mutual. They'd been mutual for a long time.
Lance bit his lip, leaning against the wall. What an idiot. Falling for random alien girls was dumb--those relationships couldn't and shouldn't last. Falling for someone far out of his league, like Allura, was stupid. But falling for someone like Pidge? Someone who was not only out his league, but showed no interest in any romantic relationships? That was pure idiocy.
She didn't have any interest in a romantic relationship, right? Right? She liked him, but that wasn't the same as wanting to date him. She probably didn’t want the distraction. Probably thought of the crush as just another frustrating, irrational emotion she had to learn to shut down.
But what if she didn't? What if she really wanted to be with him?
Quiznack. Lance was good with people, but when it came to Pidge . . . when it came to this . . . his people skills were, in the end, just guesses. To put it the way Pidge would, he didn't have enough data to draw any reliable conclusions from. He'd never talked to Pidge about relationships.
Why hadn't he ever talked to her about relationships? Why hadn't he taken that opportunity when he still felt comfortable around her?! It would've been so helpful. And it would've been time with her. Time he desperately missed.
He groaned, pushing himself away from the wall. In the end, it didn't really matter whether or not she was interested in dating. He couldn't stand to stay in this awful, awkward state any longer. If admitting his feelings made it easier to laugh and joke with her, then so be it. He'd do anything to get their friendship back to the way it was, even if it meant losing a chance at something more with her.
Romance would be wonderful. But he needed Pidge in his life, whether as a romantic partner or friend.
With that understanding, he returned to his room, planning on a long night's sleep. He would need it to pull off what he hoped to pull off tomorrow.
* * *
Predictably, knowing you had to do something and having the courage to do it were not the same thing.
He tried to ease himself into it, starting with approaches he was familiar with. Using those age-old tactics with Pidge was strange in so many ways, but if it worked . . .
He swallowed, knocking on the door to Pidge's room. "Pidge?" he called.
The door opened so quickly it almost slammed into his face. He pulled back, flushing. "Lance!" she said. "Hi! Hey! Hello!" She took a deep breath, adjusting her glasses the way he might run his hand through his hair when he was nervous. It seemed to calm her down enough for her to meet his eyes. "I need to talk to you."
He quirked an eyebrow and leaned close to her. "As beautiful as your voice is, Paloma, I'm going to stick with just watching." He ran a finger over her cheek.
She grabbed his hand. "Uh, OK . . . watching what?"
Was she really that oblivious? Or was she playing with him? He couldn't tell whether this was a bad or brilliant idea.
"Watching the most beautiful thing in the universe, of course," he said, pulling his hand away from her strong grip. Not his smoothest line, but he wasn't exactly in top form at the moment. You know. Too distracted.
She frowned, which he wasn't sure how to interpret. Better to just go for it. Cupping her face with one hand and holding hers in the other, he whispered, "I'm talking about you, obviously, mi amor." He raised her hand to his lips.
She pulled away, her face red. Before he could react, she rammed a fist into his gut and sprinted down the hallway.
He dropped to the ground, his stomach on fire. "Quiznack," he gasped. "How does she get enough force to make that hurt like that?!"
He probably shouldn't be surprised that she didn't respond well to regular flirting. He wouldn't have expected it to actually scare her, but he should've seen that she wouldn't find it in any way attractive. This was Pidge. Regular methods wouldn work with her, because she herself was so unusual.
In a good way. It was why he liked her.
He pushed himself to his feet, thinking, Note to self: Do not try and seduce Pidge. Ever.
* * *
Flirting didn't work. The next obvious step would be to just tell her.
“Pidge, could we, uh . . . could we talk?”
“Are you going to be weird this time?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“. . . no? I mean, it depends on what your definition of weird is.”
“Will you do something that will make me want to punch you?”
. . . he couldn’t promise her that.
“Pidge, I need to tell you something.”
“So do I.”
“Could I go first?” he asked tentatively. It would be easier if he just got it over with.
She swallowed, and he realized she was just as nervous as he was. “OK.”
“Pidge, I think I—” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I like—” No, no. Too fast. Why was he doing this? Couldn’t he just back down and leave it be? Was this really a good idea? “I have a—” No, it was so much more than a crush. That was the problem, wasn’t it? His brain kept finding things in her that it liked, not just her hair or her smile or her eyes or her body. Her. It wasn’t a crush. It was something much more terrifying.
His desire to get rid of the awkwardness battled with his fear that telling the truth would just make things more awkward. How could it not? And she just kept on staring at him, making this so much harder . . .
“Hunk needs you in the kitchen,” he said finally. “Something about experimenting with the heating system.” He spun around and stalked toward the door.
“Hey! Wait! Let me say what I—”
“Nope! I’m busy! Hunk needs help! Bye!”
* * *
Lance paced the halls of the castle ship, trying to figure out what to do.
He needed a better plan this time. A plan that he couldn't come up with on his own.
But he already knew what Hunk would suggest. He already knew what Allura would suggest. Quiznack, he even knew what Keith would suggest, not that he would ever follow Keith’s advice.
There was one person he hadn’t asked yet, though.
Lance stopped outside Shiro’s door, his hands shaking. It probably shouldn’t be this hard to talk to his leader. They called the team their family, they called Shiro their dad, and there were only seven people on the entire ship! But he was still nervous.
This was Shiro. The man who’d been his hero for years. The man who’d taught at the Garrison, went to Kerberos, fought the Galra, and led Voltron. He was a living legend, and Lance had thought of him that way even before finding out about his year of imprisonment. Even before he led Voltron. Now the adoration was even worse.
He knew that Shiro was just a man. A kind man, who wouldn’t be annoyed by Lance asking for help. But it was hard to remember that when faced with the prospect of talking to someone so wonderful, and so distant. Shiro was friends with Keith, he knew Pidge, he worked well with Allura, and--like everyone--he got along with Hunk. But Lance?
Who knew what Shiro thought of him. He probably didn’t think much--both in that he didn’t think Lance was worth much, and in that he didn’t think about Lance very often.
But Lance needed help. So here he was.
Lance knocked timidly. “Shiro? Could I . . . Could I talk to you about something?”
“Of course. Come in.”
Shiro was in the middle of doing push-ups. Lance winced. Here he was, worrying about romance, while his leader was working himself to pieces in preparation to save the universe. It always seemed to end up that way. Part of him wanted to get down and join Shiro, but that would just make him look like an idiot. So he waited, watching quietly.
Finally, Shiro finished, standing up. He didn’t tremble like Lance always did after doing push-ups, he just stretched his arms and sat down on his bed.
“How many?” Lance asked hesitantly.
“A hundred.”
Lance’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. A hundred. Quiznack.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Lance opened his mouth, then turned away. Shiro was too busy and important to help Lance with a silly crush. They may call him Space Dad, but he wasn’t Lance’s father. He had no obligation to help Lance with his personal issues. He was up in space to save the universe, not . . . this. Lance could figure it out on his own.
“Never mind. Sorry I bothered you.” Simply apologizing, when he had interrupted Shiro’s workout routine and probably screwed it up so much he would have to restart, didn’t seem to cut it. But there was nothing Lance could do except avoid making the same mistake next time. And leave the room as soon as humanly possible. He turned to open the door.
“Wait, Lance.”
“Yeah?”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s nothing—”
“No, tell me.”
Lance swallowed. “OK. I . . . It’s really not worth bothering you about . . .” Shiro raised an eyebrow, and he cringed, nodding. “Right. I, um, I like Pidge. A lot. And I’m trying to work up the nerve to tell her and I just . . . I can’t . . .”
“How can I help?”
“I need a plan. Something I can do that won’t let me back out.”
“Hmm.” Shiro frowned. “I have to tell you, Lance, I’m not exactly an expert on this kind of thing.”
“No, I know. But I already know what everyone else would say, and I can’t do this on my own.” It hurt to admit that. Lance was supposed to be the one who was good with girls. But his supposed "talents" failed him more often than he'd ever admit.
Shiro stared at him as if trying to figure something out. After a few minute of awkward silence, Shiro sighed. “I don’t know how to help you, Lance. The best advice I can give is just . . . sit down and force yourself to do it. And remember, the team is always here to back you up.”
The team is always here to back you up. Heh. As if that could make a difference.
But what if it could?
“Hang on a second,” Lance said. “I just had an idea.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m kind of going to need everyone’s help. Hunk and Allura will be easy to get on board, but you’re going to have to convince Keith.”
“What will it involve?”
“Basically just you guys standing in a room around me so I can’t back out. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of you, after all.”
Backing out of telling Pidge would be pretty embarrassing. But the plan itself was going to be plenty awkward even if it worked. Who wanted to admit their crush in public, after all?
* * *
Peer pressure was a powerful thing. Lance had done many stupid things--and many things he was actually quite proud of--to avoid embarrassing himself in front of friends. The same concept applied here, it was just a little more intense.
Oh, and it was intentional. He was intentionally torturing himself with peer pressure so he couldn’t back out. This wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had, but it probably came close.
Lance stood up quickly as Pidge walked into the bridge. She froze in the doorway, frowning. It was probably a strange sight--Lance standing in the center of the room, looking nervous and embarrassed, and the others standing in a ring around him, with everyone but Keith smiling reassuringly at Lance. (Keith just looked confused.)
Pidge pressed her lips together, shook her head, and then marched to the center of the room, straight up to him. “OK, I have no idea what’s going on here, but you’re not getting out this time. I need to tell you something and you are not running away.”
He met her eyes, doing his best to not get caught like a fly in the gorgeous amber of her irises. “I know. I’m . . . sorry about last time. I have something to tell you too.”
“And you won’t . . . make things weird?”
“I promise I won’t. Could I go first?”
She smiled and nodded, and he could feel himself begin to melt. He had to do this quickly or he’d never get it over with.
“Pidge, I—”
Hunk was grinning at him with thumbs up. Allura was whispering to the mice with her hands clasped in front of her eagerly. Shiro was smiling in a way that just strengthened the “space dad” nickname. Keith looked confused.
They were all so supportive and helpful. But quiznack. This was something between just him and Pidge. That was more important than peer pressuring him into admitting hus feelings.
“You know what? Let’s do this in a different room,” Lance said, taking her hand and leading her into the hallway. He could see their confused reactions out of the corner of his eye, and spared a second to give them a thumbs-up.
I got this.
When they were out of earshot from the door, Lance turned to hold Pidge’s gaze again. She didn’t let go of his hand, as if she refused to let him bail again. He wasn’t complaining.
He braced himself, and then went for it.
“Pidge, I like you.”
She stared at him.
“Actually, that’s not the right word. I love you. Pidge, I love you.” The more he said it, the more natural it sounded. He repeated it, unable to stop himself. “I love you, I love you, I l—”
Pidge threw her arms around him, pulling him down to her level to hug him. “Yes!” she shouted. “I knew it!” She pulled away, her smile the biggest he’d ever seen. “I . . . well, you’ve probably already figured it out, but I like you too.”
He smiled. “I did kinda know.”
“How?”
“. . . you talk to yourself a lot, Pidge.”
She winced. “I wondered why you asked.” She sighed. “Gotta stop doing that.”
“Pidge, if you didn’t talk to yourself, I never would’ve been smart enough to realize I’d crossed the line between liking you as a friend and liking you romantically. I don’t care if people think it’s a sign of insanity or genius--it’s you, so I like it.”
She laughed and hugged him again. And the hug was wonderful, really. But he’d like just a little more.
“Pidge . . .” She pulled away again, but only enough that they could look into each other’s eyes. “I take it from your reaction that you . . . you might want to . . . um, date me?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“That’s a yes?”
She laughed. “Yes, heck yes! I admit it’s . . . kind of a big step, but it’s a step I want to take with you.”
He couldn’t stop grinning. “Does that mean I can kiss you?”
She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath to herself, “should you do it? I mean, you trust him. You like him. But this is a big line to cross. A first kiss is a big deal . . .” She stopped and opened her eyes, grinning. “I’d pretend to talk to myself for longer, but I don’t think I can wait that lo—”
He pulled her into a kiss, refusing to let her finish the sentence. He stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and just kissed her.
The sound of footsteps made them pull away to see the other four standing down the hallway, watching them eagerly. Lance blushed, but they didn't look like they wanted to tease--they looked like they wanted to cheer.
“Yes!” Allura squealed. “Finally!”
“It’s about time you guys got together,” Hunk shook his head.
“Congratulations,” Shiro smiled.
Keith’s frown of confusion disappeared. “Oh. I think I get it now.”
Lance just laughed and pulled Pidge into another kiss.