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“You put peanut butter on your pancakes.” Lance deadpanned.
The diner, like every other morning, was unusually quiet for Lance’s personal taste. Waitresses scuffled about as they refilled coffee cups, leaving the entire building covered in the scent of strong brew and cinnamon. The diner was also incredibly warm despite the slight chill outside, sunlight peeking through the fading display paint on the windows and only adding further to the too early grogginess. It was here that Lance currently faced his project partner, the duo deciding to work on their assignment over breakfast.
“Waffles.” Lotor corrected. “And yes, chunky peanut butter! With extra syrup. I do have a slight fondness for anything crunchy. Consider it a guilty pleasure.”
“You brought a jar of peanut butter with you to a pancake house . It kind of passes guilty pleasure , don’t ya think?” Lance added, eyebrow raised.
Lotor, who had taken the plastic jar out of his messenger bag only moments earlier, looked toward Lance with a smug expression as he dug a small amount of peanut butter out with his butter knife. For whatever reason, his tiny breakfast quirk seemed to annoy Lance a great deal, but Lotor himself was enjoying it far too much to simply let it go.
“You would be surprised at how many restaurants don’t offer peanut butter the same way they do syrup and jam, especially in the early mornings.”
“Yeah! I’m sure they don’t! Because it’s not normal!” Lance protested again.
Lance had gotten up that morning expecting a simple study session. Get in. Order food. Work on the essay. Leave. It was simple enough. Then Lotor had the nerve, no, the audacity to ruin a perfectly good plate of waffles right in front of his eyes by putting peanut butter on it! Peanut butter. And waffles. Two childhood staples that belonged nowhere near each other. Lance was...disappointed at the very least.
“Is it really that bothersome to you?” Lotor questioned.
There was a slight defeat in his voice. Yet again, he felt like Lance was blowing everything out of proportion.
“Kind of!” Lance went on. “I mean, it’s a total violation of the breakfast code of conduct!”
“Ah.” Lotor noted. “You simply must forgive me. I haven’t quite gotten around to reading that manual yet, given the whole ‘attempting to pass my classes’ situation taking up most of my free time and the like.”
Placing the knife down on his plate, Lotor quickly screwed the lid back on the plastic jar and sat it aside. Across from him, Lance sat with crossed arms and a blank expression.
“Did I ask for the sarcasm?”
Somebody was cute when they were angry...
“No, but I am in a giving mood today. Consider it my personal gift to you .”
Lance remained silent. At least, until a slight smirk slowly crept toward the corner of his mouth, a smirk he was trying his hardest not to show. Leaning forward to cover the lower half of his face with his hand and failing to be subtle about it, Lance turned toward the window. Even then, Lotor could tell by Lance’s reflection that he found the comment amusing. It was surprising really. In his short time knowing him, Lotor had never known Lance to respond well to being taunted without having to add his own two cents to the matter.
Lotor considered it a small victory.
Originally, their project had started off with Lance despising Lotor for some unknown reason and he had made it very, very apparent that he did. After a few days of ignoring each other the duo both knew that they’d have to end up working together out of necessity. From there, Lotor still hadn’t determined what had happened between them. One text message about how Lance was running late because he had to drop off his niece and nephew at school after getting a flat tire here or another instance where Lance had found Lotor asleep at the library computer due to a combination of academic stress and family issues and brought him coffee once he woke up there . It was almost as if the bitterness between them had slowly started to fade away like the nippy temperature outside.
Now, here they were. Decked to their finest in pajama pants and jackets at some small, local diner while they attempted to squeeze in a quick paragraph or two on an essay surrounding Ancient Greece.
Seconds passed, Lance’s focus eventually returning to his laptop as a waitress came by to give him a quick refill, the steam from his coffee cup slowly curling upward and disappearing. Several of Lotor’s books surrounding mythology and architecture were spread across the table in addition to taking up the remaining space in the booth where they both sat, some already open and one even resting in his lap, waiting patiently until Lotor finished his breakfast to glance them over.
Lotor was fully aware that he should be focused on the assignment at hand or even eating , but the longer he stared at the book he had carefully concealed under the table, the more his mind zoned in and out until he found himself rereading the same passage a third time. Something in the back of his mind was nagging him to make some sort of conversation with Lance, anything, that didn’t involve the essay in some way.
“What would you recommend I put on my waffles instead?”
Lance looked up from his laptop, albeit a little confused. Hadn’t they gotten past this already?
“Just...out of sheer curiosity.” Lotor added.
More silence. Finally, Lance responded.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Normal stuff, I guess. Syrup? Butter? Powdered sugar?”
“There are people who put powdered sugar on waffles?” Lotor asked. Now, it was his turn to be confused.
“Hmmm…” Lance’s voice trailed off. “Mostly they put it on funnel cake, which I’m pretty sure is just pancake batter, but...you know...”
“No, I really cannot say that I do.” Lotor spoke. “Mostly because I have never had the pleasure of eating a funnel cake before.”
Instinctively, the slight click of Lance’s fingers against his keyboard stopped.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I very much am.” Lotor insisted, though not proudly.
At this, Lance sat back in his seat, offended on Lotor’s behalf.
“Did you never get a funnel cake at the carnival growing up?” Lance asked, judgmental. His tone was clearly done with this nonsense. “What else have you not tried? Cotton candy? Popcorn? Soft pretzels? Those are like regular pretzels but soft, just so you know.”
“A groundbreakingly creative name. Truly. And yes, I have eaten a soft pretzel before.” Lotor continued. “I have just never attended a carnival.”
Carefully, Lotor began to sort through his words, trying to pinpoint what would be important to reveal to Lance and what information was next to useless. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tell Lance these little tidbits about his life, or if Lance even cared to begin with. He also couldn’t help but wonder if he was oversharing. But he had noticed Lance to be more of an emotionally driven person. Maybe he just wanted to explain in a way that Lance could understand him properly.
“My parents’ house was located too far outside of London for them to take me during the summer. Even so, they had never been around enough to do so anyway.” Lotor paused once more, almost as if he was trying to get everything over with, before asking another question. “Are they as fun as everybody insists? Carnivals, I mean.”
Lotor almost expected Lance to have another fit of disbelief at his reveal. When he didn’t, Lotor couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he should be concerned. Lance’s expression now seemed to soften a bit. Warm. Sympathetic. But not in a pitying way.
It was very apparent that Lotor didn’t have the best relationship with his parents. It was also obvious that this was something he didn’t like to talk about either. The fact that he was sharing this with Lance now meant that there was some sort of trust between them.
It was a start, at least.
Lance couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Lotor had been looking lately whenever they hung out, with his light hair messily falling over his shoulders and his purple university hoodie practically engulfing him. He definitely resembled the same geek that had fallen asleep in the library a week back and not at all like the polished pretty boy at the front of the class that Lance had rolled his eyes at time and time again. He didn’t seem like the guy that Lance had never wanted to know or even give a chance to anymore.
“Lotor, buddy, you really don’t know what you’re missing.” He insisted. “Believe me. Carnival’s are amazing , especially the rides.”
“What is your favorite ride then?” Lotor asked. He leaned forward with a genuine curiosity in his voice, resting his chin against one of his hands on the table.
“Probably the ferris wheel, hands down.” Lance said. “Especially if you’re lucky enough to be at the top when it stops. I just think it’s cool being so high up in the air like that. It almost feels like you’re flying. My niece and nephew really like the carousel though, which I guess is kind of cool but all it does is spin around in a circle.” Lance pondered something for a moment. “You don’t get dizzy easily do you?”
“No. Why precisely do you feel the need to ask?”
Yet again, Lance hesitated to reply and settled for twirling his highlighter around in his hand, looking for a temporary distraction. At the counter behind them somebody had ordered a latte and the teenage cashier behind the register called out an order for ‘one hot milky boy’ so the awkward silence between the two didn’t remain awkward for too long, especially when Lance tried to hold back a snort and buried his face into one of his notebooks at the remark, Lotor giving a slight grunt of amusement at the cashier’s words as well. Instantly, Lance’s head shot back up.
“I’ll tell you what, Lotes -”
“I’ve repeatedly asked you not to call me that.” Lotor interrupted.
“- if you and I manage to get a somewhat decent grade on this essay, you have to go with me to the fairgrounds next weekend. And trust me, I’ll make sure you get the total carnival-esque experience. Snacks, rides, games, the full shebang. Do we have a deal?”
Lotor said nothing, still unconvinced.
“Could I ask exactly why it is you want me to accompany you all of a sudden when you absolutely despised me the week prior?”
Oh wow.
“Um. Despised is a really …” Lance’s voice trailed off once more. “Strong word.”
“In addition to being an incredibly accurate one.”
“Yeah…” Lance leaned back in his seat, suddenly regretful. Part of him just wanted to climb into the sleeves of his jacket and disappear. Of course Lotor wasn’t interested in him like that, he was just trying to be nice. “Look. I didn’t mean to make things weird between us…I just...”
“I don’t consider our situation strange.” Lotor admitted. “Merely curious as to why your opinion of me changed so suddenly.”
“Well…”
Lance was clearly trying to tiptoe around what he wanted to say.
“Use your words.” Lotor encouraged. “Always better to just get it out in the open.”
Easy for Mr. Elegance to say, Lance couldn’t help but think. He was really hoping his face wasn’t going red. That sometimes happened when he felt awkward.
“I just...” Lance finally gave up and let out a sigh. “I don’t know, okay. It just did. Like, I use to think you were snobby and annoying and a know-it-all, no offense . But...it’s almost like you’re normal. Okay, that’s probably a bad way to phrase it too. What I mean to say is that you’re just like everybody else. Wait, that’s not to say there’s nothing special about you at all, it’s just...”
Lance held his finger up to make a point, then slowly lowered it as he slumped and crossed his arms over the table to bury his head into the sleeves of his jacket, letting out a groan.
Why could this not be easy?
After a moment he raised his head back up, surprised to see that Lotor was still there and that he hadn’t left after all of the constant insults. Lance also couldn’t help but notice that Lotor looked mildly amused at his discomfort. Goody.
Just get it out in the open. That’s all he wants.
“I misjudged you, alright? It wasn’t fair to you and now that I know you a little better I want to get to know you a lot better. That’s it.”
Again, Lotor said nothing.
“Just so you know, this is the part where you call me shallow and then throw coffee on me and leave.”
“I am not going to leave.” Lotor soothed. “And I am definitely not going to throw coffee on you. I do, on the other hand, want you to try this.”
With his last piece of waffle on the end of his fork, Lotor twirled it slightly to soak up the extra syrup before holding it up and offering it forward.
“Really?” Lance couldn’t help but ask.
“I cut it off. It came nowhere near my mouth, I promise.” Lotor insisted. “Though, I’m sure arrangements could be made if you really wanted to…”
“Just give me the waffle, maple mouth.” Lance said.
Truthfully, Lance did want to , but he wasn’t going to give Lotor the satisfaction in knowing it. Lotor held the fork toward him, allowing Lance to lean over and take the bite. Lotor had definitely put too much peanut butter on it to where it was borderline dry, but the sweetness from the syrup seemed to balance it out. And it was crunchy, Lotor did have a point with that.
“Tolerable?” Lotor questioned.
“Okay. It’s not as bad as I was expecting.” Lance admitted.
“See?” Lotor chimed. “I am a man of renowned taste.”
“Renowned.” Lance repeated. “Like we’re both not in our pajamas at a diner.”
Any other time, Lotor might have humored him, playfully rubbing in the fact that he had been right all along. But a quick flash of dark blue caught his attention as Acxa’s car pulled up into one of the empty parking spots outside.
“Looks like your ride is here.” Lance spoke. His eyes drifted back down to his labtop. “And of course we’ve got next to nothing done.”
“On the contrary, I feel you and I have accomplished a lot today.”
Lance’s head turned toward Lotor as he gathered his books and highlighters and his tiny jar of stupid peanut butter into his backpack, not quite sure what he meant.
“We can arrange to meet at the library tomorrow afternoon when some of the other group members are free. I can only assume it would be easier that way.” Lotor suggested. He slid one of his backpack straps over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Probably.” Lance guessed. Lotor started to head toward the door when a thought suddenly slipped through Lance’s mind. “Hey! Wait! You never gave me an answer to that carnival thing!”
Lotor turned toward him a final time before disappearing through the door, a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Consider it a date.”