Chapter Text
Pidge was having a perfectly pleasant dream. A dream of family and reunion. But her lovely dream was cut short by the insistent sound of what she thought was her intestines digesting itself. She was hungry and although now awake, she tightly kept her eyes shut in hopes of the feeling leaving her and granting her sleep once more. But today the world was plotting against her. Her stomach growled loudly and gurgled so deeply that the not-so-subtle pain increased in a matter of seconds. She relinquished and finally opened her eyes to see what time her fate fell. Her finger lightly taped the small screen panel to the right of her bed.
“3:07…am”, she groaned as her eyes strained against the blue light.
“Guess I have no choice.”
She slowly lifted her body and sat up, legs dangling over the cold ground. Her eyes fell lazily and attempted to adjust in the dark. Her room was slightly breezy and she felt a small shiver prickle down her neck. Pidge mumbled to her self as she blindly felt around for the sweatshirt she had dumped somewhere on her bed the day before. The mumbles sounded like small hums until a small “a hah” rose at the touch of a much needed layer. She quickly put her arms through but managed to find her self stuck. She looked like a headless scarecrow. She paused for a moment before decided to dig her hole deeper and force her way through her head hole. The zipper was up leaving her head squished in place and arms propped up like hang man. She squirmed and squirmed against the ruthless sweatshirt until her fit left her limp on the bed facedown.
“You gotta be fuc-!“
The door slid open at the presence of Pidge’s small figure. She stepped out and zipped up her turtle neck with a huff. Pidge would get hot fairly quickly in her sleep so she was accustomed to sleeping in a tank top and loose PJ shorts. She wasn’t really one to show much skin so when getting up to eat breakfast in the hall she would normally be fully clothed or occasionally be layered with her poked-dotted PJ pants, green lion slippers and her handy dandy turtle neck sweatshirt that just so happen to drape right above her bony knees. She sluggishly made her way down the corridor as the lights lit up her path. She loved that. It wasn’t anything crazily advanced tech-wise, but more comforting since she wasn’t a huge fan of the dark. She’d never admit it but she was one of those people that would desperately feel for a light switch before actually walking into a room. The kitchen was just a couple more corridors down and as a wide yawn swelled up some tears, she completely failed to notice the bright open door she had just waltzed by. It only took her mid yawn to stop and look back. She leaned her head in confusion and lifted a curious brow. A small frown formed on her lip and her hearing instantly picked up on a strange noise.
“What is that?”, her legs back tracked and she made up her mind that the mysterious sound was that of a water stream.
As she moved closer to the open door the sound of the stream lost its consistency and the shifts of body movement could be heard. She peered past the door frame to see a the sight of a tall lanky body struggling to hold its weight in front of an up-seated Altean toilet.
“What the HELL are ya doing Lance?!”
Pidge’s anger quickly formed a flushed face as slender-man casually turned to face her.
“¿Ay mamá, qué bola eh? Ya limpié mi cuarto…”
Her eyes widened and could not process the scene in front of her. She had no idea what he had said, but she was certain of one thing. Lance was, in fact, naturally tan. He was SO tan and she was too flustered to experience anger. Her mouth hung wide open and slightly quivered, unable to form words. Her eyes darted from spot to spot: his stupid face (that was obviously too sleepy to realize); his pants hanging just low enough to show a little sneak peek of his butt crack; and his hands that held something Pidge had only ever seen in Health Ed. Thoughts rattled furiously in her head and what made it increasingly worse was that she couldn’t keep her eyes from continuously double-taking.
Wha-That’s what they look like? Are they normally like that?
Then to her dismay Lance staggered forwards, causing her to clumsily step back. His eyes were just barley open and only shown the slightest hint of blue. Pidge lost her footing and slipped smacking butt on the ground. The impact caused Lance to react slightly.
“Hmm, qu-“, he stopped mid word.
His eyes refocused and as he looked at the petite girl with scrawny bare legs sprawled in the hallway, his breath stopped short. Lance’s eyes shot down and saw what kinda party he was letting on.
His arms flailed as he yelled, “No! Wait- Ugh it’s not what-um!”
“Just put it away already dude!”
“Ah yeah!” his arms struggled to zip up his pants.
Why was he wearing jeans? Had he fallen asleep in his clothes? How did he get there? What was going o-!
His thoughts were quickly crushed by a feeling that could be none other than his junk getting stuck in the zipper. His lips sucked in like he had eaten the biggest warhead possible and his face drained of all color. His legs quickly gave out and he face planted forward attempting the cover his crotch with his hands. He whimpered and tried to hold back from wheezing.
What could’ve been worse? His junk was fully exposed, viciously zipped up, and on top of all that, out of every other person it could’ve been, it HAD to be Pidge. His face felt hot and continued to press flat on the cold ground, not daring to look Pidge in the eyes.
God just kill me now.