Chapter Text
Lance couldn't for the life of him remember how had he ended in that corner of youtube. One moment he'd been looking up videos about how were paper cups made -which he swore was relevant for his paper on coffee shops economics- the next, he was listening to some obscure trip-hop mixes. However, despite it being two in the morning on a Thursday, he didn't feel any urgency to switch tabs to the paper-to-be.
It wasn't due until like, midday, so he still had plenty of time.
"Turn that thing down, Lance," came a muffled groan from under a pillow. "We're never rooming together again."
"Aw, come on, you love me Hunk-a-boo," Lance teased, but he reached for his headphones. He might have nowhere to be until late morning, having chosen his classes specifically to avoid early mornings, but he knew Hunk was too academically driven to share his priorities.
Hunk muttered a thank you when he plugged them in, but Lance was already unable to hear him, clicking through the recommended videos.
His attention was picked when he saw one called Gyeong Longboarding. Was that a new music genre? He'd discovered like, five new ones in the span of the last two hours, so it might very well be. The thumbnail didn't reveal anything either, a guy standing in a park with soft lightning. Probably another chill music CD cover. Lance scrolled down to check the other videos, and when none of them stuck out, he moved back up and clicked on the one on top.
To his mild surprise, it was an actual video. Lance rubbed his eyes and leaned closer. Longboarding was, apparently, a skating thing. Lance had never been much for skating, the flashy tricks always seeming too douchey for his taste, and he was about to click away to the next video when it finished buffering and started playing. To his surprise, the boy in the video didn't immediately start jumping off ramps and trying to break his neck. The music was one of the relaxing piano songs Lance had listened to a couple of videos ago, and the skate moved smoothly in sync with it. The guy's footing on it continuously changed, and it took Lance a moment to realize he, too, was following the music. He moved weightlessly, dancing on top of a skate better than most white kids at Lance's class could do on solid ground.
When the video ended, he immediately played the next one that had the word Gyeong on the title, and opened google in a new tab to research longboards.
Fourteen hours and a very rushed paper later, Lance was back in his bedroom.
"Hunk, guess what I got!"
Both Hunk and Pidge turned to look at him, their faces guarded.
"Please tell me it's nothing alive."
Lance glared down at her.
"I don't even know who invited you here, midget, much less why do you think your name is 'Hunk'."
"It's not like I guessed. I just hoped. It's a dog, isn't it!"
"Lance, dude, not again."
"It's not a dog!" Lance sighed. "I did that when I was five, Hunk, let it go. And I managed to get my mom to keep it, so I don't know why do you talk about it like it was such a bad thing." Lance pouted, but it didn't seem to have any effect on his terrible, terrible friends.
"Because you'd find a way to make us keep it now, too, and I'm not going to walk it."
"Pidge you don't even live here," Lance protested.
"I have to agree with Lance there, Pidge, you don't live here. We both know it'd be me the one who would have to walk it whenever Lance got busy, and I'm not going to do that."
"Not even if it's adorable?"
"I knew it was a dog."
"It's not a dog! I'm just gauging my future chances of getting away with one, since you brought it up."
"Great, Pidge, you're giving him ideas now-" Hunk's sentence was cut short by a pillow flying into his face.
"Did your test really go that badly, Pi-"
Another pillow hit Lance straight in the face.
When it fell to the ground, Lance looked between Pidge and Hunk, the latter looking as stunned as he felt. He snorted. Hunk looked at him, offended. Unable to hold it in anymore, Lance burst out laughing, and the others followed soon after.
His stomach hurt by the time they managed to stop.
“Alright, alright, it’s been a long week. Lance, just tell us already, we’re not going to be able to guess,” Pidge admitted tiredly, her expression more relaxed now than when Lance first arrived.
“Oh shit, I left it outside! If it's not there I'm-!” Lance rushed out of the room and back again, this time grinning. “Ta-da! What do you guys think?”
“Holy shit dude that’s so cool !” Hunk beamed.
“You bought a skateboard?!” Pidge squinted at the board Lance was holding.
“It’s not a skateboard, it’s a longboard, Pidge, sheesh. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
When held up the board reached Lance’s hip. Both the shape and design underneath were obviously inspired on a surfboard, blue stripes mixed with light bamboo ones. If Lance hadn’t fallen in love with the sport watching the videos the night before, the online catalogs would have done it. He missed the beach and the sun, and just being able to carry a sort-of surfboard under his arm made him giddy inside.
“Hell yeah, it is! Man, I didn’t know you could skate.” Hunk had moved closer and was poking at the upper truck. “We have to try it at the park today.”
“Actually...” Lance trailed off, pulling the board closer to himself protectively. Pidge snickered. He glared at her.
“You don’t know how to skate, do you?” she asked, smiling behind her hand.
“Oh. Shit. You’re right, we’ve known each other for years, I’d know.” Hunk squinted at Lance, standing up straight again. “Lance, are you serious?”
“Co- come on, you just admitted it was a beauty! It wasn’t even that expensive, and I can learn ! I’m naturally graceful, you know me.”
“I’m not missing this for the world.” Pidge sat back down on Lance’s bed, bouncing. “We’re so going to the park later.”
Hunk sighed heavily before smiling at Lance.
“I’ll bring my first aid kit.”
“I can’t believe this, betrayed by my own best friends,” Lance grumbled, setting the board down just to lie down on Hunk’s bed dramatically. “How will I ever recover?”
“Oh, you’ll live. We can all have lunch after we’re back from the ER.”
That didn't lift Lance’s mood, and he wearily dragged himself to undo the wrapping around the board’s wheels. Wordlessly, Hunk handed him a pair of scissors. They watched Lance struggle for a while until he was finally surrounded by the remains of the packaging, admiring his acquisition.
“Have you thought about where will you keep it?” Hunk prodded. Their room might be a double, but between the two of them they had enough projects and models in progress to take up most of the free space.
“It'll fit under the bed I'm sure.”
“Isn't the bed virtually standing on your dirty laundry?”
“It’ll be good motivation to clean it up! See, it’s improving our lives already,” Lance replied, turning to look at them with bright eyes.
“...Lance, it’s not like we’re going to tell you to return it,” Pidge sighed, lying back down on the bed. “Hopefully it’ll entertain you for long enough to make you forget about the puppy.”
“I’m sorry, Pidge, I can’t believe you’d assume I’d ever forget about puppies. If one comes up, you’ll pry it out of my cold dead hands.”
Another pillow hit Lance’s head.
“Shit, Pidge, did the test really go that badly? I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Lance added the moment he got the pillow off his face. “Anyway Hunk is even weaker to small animals than I am, don’t act like I’d be the only one at fault,” he added rapidly before dodging another one. “And stop throwing my pillows on the floor, I take care of them!”
“You’re terrible.” Pidge looked between him and Hunk, seemingly unsurprised by Hunk’s guilty expression. “I’m not even remotely surprised, just so you know. Let’s head to the park after lunch. I’ll grab my skates.”
“Sooo... you’re fine with it?” Lance sat up straight.
“Yeah, we’ll even go with you and record you falling flat on your ass.”
“Like hell you will. My beautiful ass is not gonna brush the ground.” Lance jumped to his feet. “I’m gonna be the best longboard dancer in this godda-”
“Language,” Hunk frowned.
“-in this goshdarn city. Let’s go.”
The park was much, much busier than Lance had been hoping for. Of course, he was certain there was nothing for him to worry about. He'd do great. Perhaps he’d even get some fans with his talent riding-
Oh, who was he kidding. He was going to make a fool of himself and his friends would never let him live it down.
“Getting cold feet, Lance?” Pidge teased him, glancing at his face. Lance’s face must have said all she needed to know, because she backed down slightly. “Come on, it can't be that different from a surfboard. Want Hunk to push you?”
“Pfff I'm a grown boy, Pidge, I can manage. Just watch me.”
Swallowing around the knot in his throat, he set the board on the ground and tested it with one foot. It wasn't as wobbly as he had feared. He'd be fine.
He was not fine.
He could put one foot on the board. He could push himself with the other. The moment he tried to do anything else, he'd lose balance and trip. After the first hour, it was by sheer luck that his ass hadn't met the asphalt yet. Even if he didn't care about the looks people sent his way (he cared) it was starting to get tiresome to try cross the park limping on a wheeled board. Hunk did try to push Lance once, and he ended up having to run off the table when it got too fast for him to control it. It came close to hitting a group that was lying around in the grass taking selfies. They weren't happy, and had some creative suggestions about what exactly Lance could do with his board. He ran away after that, his friends trailing a bit behind, being no match for Lance’s long strides.
He'd been so worried getting out of the scene that he barely noticed where his feet took him. The moment he got to an area with less people around he went straight back to practicing, determined to at least get both feet on the board. He hadn't yet gotten in the habit of actually looking where he was going, and both Hunk and Pidge were still trailing behind, so it came as a complete surprise when he raised his head and noticed he was barely thirty feet away from a group of longboarders. Complete with the cool clothes and a GoPro of all the things.
They had noticed him, too, and most of them were staring straight at Lance with a mix of pity and disdain. Lance’s face heated up, and he glared at them, ready to keep moving ahead without paying them any mind.
Then he made eye contact with the shortest guy in the crowd and it all came crashing down.
“Gyeong??”
The boy from the videos -because it was him, Lance might have barely seen his face but after all the videos he'd recognize that mullet anywhere- seemed startled at his outburst. From the rest of the group, though, the reactions were much more lukewarm. A couple of chuckles and a ‘oh, man, another crazy fan’ muttered from somewhere. Lance didn't care about any of them but one person.
“Yes, that's me.” The boy frowned slightly. Shit, he was gorgeous. “I don't think I know you though.”
“Dude, shouldn't you be in Korea?” Lance kept staring dumbfoundedly at him, a foot still on top of the table. “What are you doing here??”
“Why would I be in Korea?” And now he was scrunching up his nose as if he'd smelled something gross. Lance recognized that look. “That's a lot to assume for a guy who watched a couple of my videos but didn't read any of the description. I study here.”
Lance paled, attempting to backtrack. The name sounded Korean, the music had been Korean, everyone in the video seemed relatively Korean, and Lance hadn't been particularly awake at the time. He looked at the rest of the group, noting the annoyed and downright hostile looks he was receiving now that the amusement was gone, the complete lack of an accent on their voices, the Garrison U sweaters a couple of them were wearing...
“Mierda. Me vo- I'm gonna go.” He crouched to grab the board, holding it tight to stop it from slipping out of his sweaty hands. Now everyone was looking at him, and the pressure was indescribable. He could see Pidge and Hunk standing slightly away from the circle and rushed to join them, the stares on his back burning like an iron brand.
“Lance, what happened?” Hunk’s soft concern told Lance all he needed to know about the state of his face.
“Nothing, I just thought I'd better off practicing at the old hospital’s parking lot for now. Don't wanna run into anyone when I crash.” He tried to convince himself that his voice wasn't shaking. “You guys can grab dinner first, I'm gonna keep practicing still. Polish my technique and all.”
“Like fuck we are.” Pidge glared at the group, who had already started moving away without sparing Lance a second glance. “You're gonna figure this out, and we're going to be there for it. We're not eating anything until you do, that's how sure I am. And when you do, we're going to celebrate it proper at that new pizza place.”
Hunk didn't protest Pidge’s suggestion. The two of them had seen Lance fail for an hour straight, and they were still willing to drop everything to spend their Friday supporting him.
Lance was not tearing up. His eyes were irritated from the wind. Hunk and Pidge clearly understood the cause, too. They didn't mention it as they made their way out of the park, talking about the rumors about their teachers and the cafeteria food, until Lance’s mind was as far as it could be from that pair of dark eyes looking down on him.