Chapter Text
Chapter One - Will you go with me?
—
Lance
—
It was just another day in college for Lance or at least, it kind of was. Tomorrow marked the start of winter break, and he couldn't wait to finally see his family again. He'd get to hug his big sister, Veronica, and his twin little brothers, Marco and Luis. They must've grown so much since he last saw them, it had been months, and the thought of missing out on them growing up tugged at his chest.
He wondered what Veronica was up to now—did she have a girlfriend yet? Maybe even a job? She'd always been the laziest of the bunch, but she could never resist helping out if there was music playing. That's how Lance had learned to dance in the first place.
But more than anything, he missed his mom. He missed the way she cooked, how the house was always full of noise and warmth, and how love seemed to hang in the air like the scent of her favorite dish.
Here at college, all you ever got was takeout or microwave meals—and most of the time, they tasted like cardboard. Lance missed real food, the kind that left you full for hours and warmed you from the inside out. More than the taste, he missed the love that went into every meal back home.
—
I whistled softly, twirling my dorm keys around my finger as I walked down the dimly lit hallway toward my assigned room—the one I'd be stuck in for the rest of college. The sound of the jingling keys echoed faintly off the walls, mixing with the muffled chatter of students saying their goodbyes before winter break.
When I reached my door, I slid the key into the lock and pushed it open, greeted by quiet. No music, no chatter, not even the hum of a game console. Either my roommate was out for the night or passed out early. The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of laundry detergent and coffee, our usual mix of chaos and caffeine.
I dropped my keys onto the little table by the door, the metallic clink breaking the silence, and crouched to untie my shoes. I slipped them off and lined them neatly by the door, sadly learned that one the hard way. My roommate has this thing about keeping the floors clean. According to him, if you walk around barefoot, you're "basically asking to get athlete's foot and track in the apocalypse." So, it's either socks or slippers only. Break that rule, and you'll get a knock to the head and a full lecture that somehow turns into a string of very creative cussing.
I sighed, wiggling my toes against the cold floor before pulling on my fuzzy socks. Welcome home, I guess.
I slid over to the small kitchenette, the tile cool under my sock-covered feet, and rummaged through the cabinet until I found a little bag of chips to snack on. Tearing it open, I made my way to the couch and flopped down, the cushions squeaking under my weight.
Grabbing the remote, I flicked on the TV, letting the soft blue light fill the room. After a few clicks through random channels, I landed on Cartoon Network. A grin tugged at my lips when I realized what was playing, Chowder.
"I can't believe they still air this," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. It was such an old cartoon, one I used to watch after school as a kid. The familiar theme song filled the silence, and for the first time that day, the dorm actually felt a little bit like home.
I watched as the little guys popped out of each other's hats, singing "I'm not your boyfriend" to that pink bunny-looking girl. The whole thing was ridiculous, but in the best way. I couldn't help but laugh—one of those unexpected, genuine laughs that slipped out before I could stop it.
A few chips tumbled from my mouth and landed on the floor with a soft crunch. I glanced down at the mess, then shrugged. "I'll get it after I finish the bag," I mumbled, settling deeper into the couch as the cartoon's bright colors flickered across the room.
I heard the faint creak of a door opening and glanced over the back of the couch. My roommate shuffled out of our room, half-asleep, clutching a pillow to his chest like it was his lifeline. His hair stuck up in every direction, and his eyes were barely open as he dragged his feet toward me.
When he reached the couch, he paused, staring down at my legs stretched across the cushions. Without saying a word, he gave them a light smack, silently demanding space. I rolled my eyes but moved them anyway, watching as he plopped down beside me, pillow still in his arms.
He blinked slowly at the screen, licking his lips once as his gaze fixed on the TV.
"What is this show?" he asked, his voice low and rough with sleep as he pushed his messy hair out of his face.
I grinned and propped my legs up on his lap, turning my attention back to the TV while crunching on another chip. "Chowder," I said simply, balling up the now-empty bag and tossing it onto the coffee table.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance down—and immediately spot the chips I'd dropped earlier. His half-awake daze vanished in an instant. He started mumbling under his breath, his words too low to catch but definitely irritated.
A second later, he smacked my legs off his lap with a sharp thud and tossed the pillow onto the couch with a huff, clearly staking his claim on his spot.
"Lance, how many times do I have to tell you not to make a mess?" Keith grumbled, already grabbing his tiny handheld vacuum from the shelf. He crouched down, sucking up the crumbs with quick, precise movements before snatching the crumpled chip bag off the table and tossing it into the trash.
"Aww, come on, Mullet! I was gonna clean it up after the show ended," I said, sitting up and stretching until my back popped.
"Don't call me that," he muttered, smacking the back of my head as he passed.
I rubbed the spot and scowled. "Ow! Not my fault you woke up at the wrong time," I grumbled under my breath.
Keith ignored me, pulling the elastic band off his wrist and tying his hair up into a small, messy bun. The sight made me snicker.
He caught it instantly. "What?" he asked, arms crossing over his chest, brow furrowing in that way that always made him look more like an annoyed cat than an angry human.
"Nothing," I said, biting back my laugh. "Just—you look more like a girl than you usually do."
His glare could've burned a hole through me. Without another word, he turned on his heel, stomped back into our room, and slammed the door behind him. A sharp click followed—he'd locked it.
Welp, that was my cue to get out of the dorm for a bit. I slipped on my old, scuffed-up Converse and grabbed my keys, locking the door behind me with a soft click. As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I pulled out my phone and opened my messages.
Hunk ⭐️
L: Hey dude, where r you?
H: Shiro's dorm.
L: SUS.
I chuckled to myself, shoving my phone back into my jacket pocket as I started down the hall. The dorm building was quiet, save for the faint hum of music from behind a few closed doors.
Halfway down the corridor, a group of girls passed by, chatting softly. I shot them a quick wink and flashed my signature smile—the one that, in my mind, always worked. They giggled immediately, whispering to each other as they hurried off a little faster. I smirked, watching them go.
As I continued down the hall, the room numbers climbed higher and higher, leading me straight toward Shiro's dorm.
I bet Mom misses Hunk too. He always comes with me on winter break, and she loves having him around—especially since he insists on helping in the kitchen. Marco and Luis adore the guy; according to them, he gives the best hugs and cuddles in the world. Every year, they make him sleep with them on the air mattress in their room, and honestly, it's kind of adorable how much they see him as another big brother.
Hunk doesn't have any siblings, just his mom. She's usually away on business—this time in Paris for the holidays—so he never gets to see her during breaks. That's part of why he always tags along with me.
I kept walking, lost in thought, until I noticed the numbers on the doors. Seventies.
"Wait—" I stopped in my tracks. "Shit, I missed it."
With a sigh, I turned around and started back down the hall toward the fifties.
Hunk swung the door open with his usual big grin before I could even knock twice.
"What's up, man? I missed you!" he boomed, wrapping his massive arms around me and lifting me clean off the ground.
"Can't—breathe," I wheezed, feeling my ribs compress as he gave me one of his trademark bear hugs.
"Oh! Sorry!" He quickly set me down, flashing that sheepish, apologetic smile of his. "Guess I got a little carried away," he said, stepping aside to let me in before closing the door behind us.
I laughed, brushing off my jacket as I followed him in. "A little?"
He chuckled and flopped down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him. "Come on, man, sit down."
"Where's Muscles at?" I asked, raising a brow, still a little puzzled about why Hunk was hanging out here alone.
"Packing for winter break with Matt," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before bursting out laughing.
I couldn't help it—I laughed too, doubling over as the image popped into my head. By the time I calmed down, there were tears in my eyes, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand.
"Okay, okay," I said between breaths, finally catching my composure. "About that, Hunk—are you ready for tomorrow?" I started spinning my keys around my finger, the metal jingling softly as I waited for his answer.
His laugh faded, and the mood shifted almost instantly. "About that..." he said, his tone dipping into something uneasy. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, and he avoided my eyes.
I sat there, waiting, my confusion growing with every second he stayed quiet. Hunk kept glancing around the room—at the floor, the wall, the ceiling—anywhere but at me. Every time our eyes met, he broke contact almost instantly.
"Dude! What about it?" I snapped, the irritation in my voice creeping in. I hated when he danced around things like this.
He started mumbling under his breath, shifting in his seat, and then stood up to pace the room. His hands were fidgeting, his brow furrowed deep in thought. After a moment, he sighed and dropped back onto the couch with a heavy thud.
"I can't go," he said finally, his voice small. His fingers went straight to his mouth, biting nervously at his nails.
My stomach sank. "What? Why not?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even but failing. Disappointment seeped through every word. I needed him there—someone to hang out with, to help me breathe when my family got a little too much.
"I'm... going with Shay," he whispered.
"Awww, man," I groaned, dragging my hands down my face in frustration.
"Now I'm stuck with my whiny little brothers who'll be asking for you every five minutes," I complained, slumping back in the loveseat. The thought of spending two weeks refereeing Marco and Luis without Hunk's help already made my head hurt.
Before Hunk could respond, a door opened, and Shiro stepped out of his room, rolling a suitcase behind him. "Hey, guys," he said, his voice calm as always. "What's wrong?"
"Hunk can't go with me," I said, gesturing at the big guy dramatically. "And Pidge isn't available either. And you're leaving too! My brothers are gonna whine and whine until I lose my mind."
Shiro chuckled, setting his suitcase aside before sitting down in the recliner. "Ask Keith," he said simply, like it was the most obvious solution in the world.
I froze. "Keith?"
He nodded, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. You two get along... most of the time."
I groaned again, throwing my head back. "Yeah, if by 'get along' you mean 'argue until someone storms off.'"
"Why would I ask Keith?" I groaned, sitting up a little. "He's so weird—and always in control of everything. Everything has to be perfect with him. My brothers would eat him alive. Besides, he's sooo boring." I dragged out the last word for extra emphasis, crossing my arms like a stubborn kid.
Shiro just chuckled, unbothered. "I said ask Keith," he repeated, leaning back in the recliner. "He doesn't do anything over break except stay in the dorm or tag along with me sometimes. Which he can't this time, because Matt and I are going on a romantic getaway." His voice softened, and his expression practically glowed with love—and, yeah, maybe a little too much lust for me to comfortably look at.
I made a face. "Gross, dude. I didn't need that mental image."
He laughed under his breath.
"I guess I could..." I muttered, throwing my head back with a groan. The ceiling suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room. "But if he starts lecturing my brothers about cleanliness or something, that's on you."
"But I gotta go now," I said, pushing myself up from the seat. "He's probably unmad by now, and I still need to ask him—and pack."
Hunk raised a brow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Good luck with that, man."
"Yeah, you'll need it," Shiro added, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair.
I rolled my eyes and started toward the door, whistling a little tune as I went. "See ya, guys," I said, giving them a lazy wave over my shoulder.
"Later!" Hunk called out.
"Bye, Lance," Shiro said more softly, amusement still in his tone.
I pulled the door shut behind me, their voices fading into the muffled hum of the hallway. The quiet settled around me again as I started back toward my dorm—time to face the Mullet himself.
—
Shiro
—
"I bet you fifty bucks they end up together by the end of break," I said, a smirk tugging at my lips as I leaned back in the recliner. I held out my hand toward Hunk, confident in my prediction.
Hunk's grin spread slow and mischievous, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. "Deal," he said, gripping my hand firmly and giving it a good shake.
For a second, we both sat there in silence before Hunk started laughing, deep and loud.
"Oh man," he said between chuckles, "this is gonna be so good."
I just smiled, already imagining the chaos that was about to unfold between those two.
—
Lance
—
"Stepping on the beach, der der der~!" I sang along quietly, grinning to myself. SpongeBob had always been my absolute favorite—seriously, the entire family loved it. Nothing beat the goofy laughs and ridiculous adventures.
I opened the dorm door and was immediately hit with the sounds of music and running water. Squinting, I walked toward the bathroom, cracking the door open just enough to peek my head in. And you wanna know what music I heard? Barbie Tingz. I blinked. Really? Keith? I thought for sure he'd be blasting some emo stuff or maybe lo-fi beats.
"Hey, Kei—" I started, but my words barely left my mouth.
"AHHHHHHHH!" Keith screamed, and the shriek was so loud I jumped back. I heard something hit the floor with a clatter and saw a dark shadow tumble into the bathtub of the shower.
"Sorry, man!" I called, leaning my head back against the door and trying to hide my grin.
"Just... when you get out, I wanna ask you something," I muttered through the door, and I heard the water shut off with a groan.
I dropped down onto the floor, sliding out my suitcase from under the bed. I tossed it onto the mattress and clicked it open, already starting to sort through what I'd need for winter break.
That's when I heard the door click open. I turned slightly and froze for a moment. Keith stood there, only wrapped in a towel, his hair piled up in another.
Ahhhh... so that was why we ran out of towels so quickly.
"Sorry, didn't expect you to be back so early," Keith mumbled, grabbing a few clothes and heading back into the bathroom.
I shrugged and turned my attention back to my suitcase, folding some of my clothes neatly and tossing them in. I added the basics—toiletries, my laptop, a pillow—making sure I had everything I'd need for the trip.
A few minutes later, Keith emerged again, hair dried and clothes on, looking way too put-together as usual. He ran a hand through his hair, adjusting it just so.
"So," he said, finally turning to me, "what did you wanna ask me?"
"Oh... um, are you doing anything this winter break?" I asked, turning toward him as I grabbed some boxers from the dresser.
"No," he replied, giving me a suspicious look that made me pause for a second. Then, without another word, he climbed onto my bed and started refolding the clothes I'd just packed into the suitcase, making everything unnaturally neat.
I raised an eyebrow. "Really? Not even... anything at all?"
He glanced up briefly, expression neutral. "Nope. Just gonna be here." Then he went back to perfectly aligning my shirts like it was some kind of art project.
"Wanna come with me to my winter cabin?" I asked, zipping my boxers into the suitcase. "I need someone else so I can actually have some non-family fun—ya know, since we have small kids around."
Keith didn't touch the boxers I'd just packed; he just laid a pair of neatly folded jeans on top, keeping his focus entirely on my suitcase.
"I... I don't wanna be a burden," he murmured, eyes dropping to the floor as he picked nervously at the edge of his nail polish.
I paused, glancing at him. "Dude, you're not a burden. I need someone who actually gets it, someone who won't make me referee my little brothers 24/7. That's why I'm asking you."
He shifted a little, still avoiding my gaze, but I could tell he was thinking about it.
I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes, leaning forward slightly. "Please... come with me. I don't wanna have a nightmare of a vacation," I pleaded, my voice soft and desperate.
Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair before standing up and giving me a sideways glance. "Fine... but what's in it for me?" he asked, crossing his arms like he was negotiating a serious business deal.
I grinned, already planning how to convince him this was going to be way more fun than he thought. "Trust me, you're gonna have a blast."
He raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but didn't say no. That was my win for now.
Keith got up and started pulling his suitcase out from under the bed, neatly arranging his things as he went.
"Is it gonna be cold?" he asked over his shoulder, glancing back at me.
"Dude, we're going to a winter cabin. Of course it's gonna be cold!" I said, zipping up my suitcase. "Also, be prepared for a twelve-hour ride tomorrow to the mountains. It's not exactly a quick trip."
"Okay," he muttered, nodding, already focused on packing his own things with that calm, meticulous energy of his.
I couldn't help but grin. Looks like this trip was actually going to happen.