Chapter Text
“Pidge!” Lance yells. He’s running full speed down the side of the field, right hand just above his shoulder where Pidge can see it. His legs are burning, the hour of playing is really starting to catch up to him. The sun is starting to set, angled just right that he almost can’t see the net in front of him. His chest is heaving and each breath feels like fire going down his throat, but he pushes forward. He’s not going to let this opening pass, he won’t let himself miss another chance to score this game. His cleats dig into the dirt as he looks back and forth between Pidge and the net. Lance sees the moment Pidge winds up and sends the ball to him with perfect precision. Their pass holds more force than people ever expect, so it gets to Lance’s foot before the other team can even look his way. He pushes forward, keeping the ball close to his feet as he closes the small gap left between him and his shooting range. He can feel their defense closing in on him, but he doesn’t panic. He’s close enough. He swings his leg back and hits the ball with as much force as he has left.
He snaps his head up, watching as the ball disappears into the sun that’s now at eye level. He squints against it and he swears his breath catches in his throat when he hears the ball hit the net. Everything around him freezes for a second, but then bodies are slamming into him and a grin spreads across his face. He lets his teammates push him around, drinking up every cheer and scream from them. This is his element. This is why he’s a striker. There is nothing like the feeling of getting a game winning goal. Lance feels like he’s floating, like every nerve in his body is lit up with excitement and pure joy. He feels Pidge crash into him- their bone crushing force is hard to miss -and it only makes him smile more. He loves this team more than anything else on the entire planet.
“You guys fucking did it again,” Rolo says, patting Lance’s back harshly, “I don’t know how you do it.” Lance stumbles slightly at the harsh contact, but he still smiles at his teammate and shakes his head. Honestly, he’s not sure how he and Pidge managed to figure out their power as a duo. They only met at tryouts for the soccer team, but Pidge immediately caught his eye. The way they could move so fast and push so hard, yet still be half Lance’s side amazed him. He literally ran up to them after the tryouts and begged them to stay a bit longer so he could see more of their skills. Their unexpected friendship only blossomed from there.
“Look, ask them, they’re the alien,” Lance says, messing up the hair on the top of Pidge’s head. They grumble and slap his hand away, and Lance makes sure to gasp and hold it to his chest dramatically. Pidge just rolls their eyes and brings their attention over to Rolo.
“Maybe if you showed up to more than half the practices, you’d understand it better,” Pidge says. Lance hisses, but there’s a smirk hidden under the noise. He’s glad Pidge has the balls to humble Rolo. That piece of shit is really damn lucky he’s a good defenseman. The amount of attitude he has is miles more than Lance… and that’s saying a lot. Lance gets moody very easily and very often. Lance watches the expression on Rolo’s face drop, but he doesn’t feel bad at all. Rolo doesn’t deserve to be happy about their win, his lack of commitment to the team is comical. Rolo just scoffs, and turns to celebrate with other assholes on the team. Lance brings his attention back to Pidge and easily catches them when they jump onto his back. “So, big shot, you won us the game.” Lance hums and starts walking them towards their team's bench.
“ We won us the game,” Lance corrects, “you always complain about my ego being way too big, are you sure you want to make it bigger?” Lance can’t see them, but he’s certain Pidge rolls their eyes based on how deep their sigh is. He’s honestly surprised Pidge has put up with him for three years. Sometimes he can’t even handle himself, he’s not entirely sure how Pidge does it. Before Pidge can say their rebuttal though, Hunk is barreling towards them at an alarming speed. His hands are out at his sides and there’s a stupidly big grin on his face. Lance immediately feels calmer seeing his friend approach. He’s really glad Hunk has been his best friend since third grade, his warmth has helped Lance more than he would ever admit. When Hunk stops in front of them, he reaches both of his hands forward for high fives, and Pidge and Lance each send a hand out to meet his.
“What did I say? I knew you guys would win,” Hunk says, “I didn’t doubt it for a second.” Hunk has been their number one supporter since they joined the team. Lance honestly doesn’t think he would have made it this far without Hunk as his cheerleader. Especially when they lost their first two games in the tournament last year, sending them home two weeks early. Lance was about ready to quit the team. But Hunk baked him a box of cookies good enough to keep him from quitting. Pidge slides off of Lance’s back and immediately leans all of their weight on Hunk.
“I think we deserve victory milkshakes,” Lance says, carding his hand through his sweaty hair. He watches with amusement as Pidge rubs their sweaty hair all over Hunk’s shoulder, earning some not so scary grumbling in response.
“I’m all for shakes, but you guys should probably go join your team, looks like the captain is about to do his speech,” Hunk says. Lance rolls his eyes and turns to look over to where their captain is standing. He honestly has nothing against the guy, he’s just boring. And his speech is the same after every game. It gets pretty damn repetitive. Before he can really protest, Pidge is grabbing his wrist, dragging him towards the circle their team has formed. He follows them reluctantly and squeezes into the circle just as the speech starts. He zones out as the words go in one ear and out the other, thinking about next season. Next year is his final year on this team. His final year to prove that he can be the best striker not only on his team, but in the region. He can already feel the excitement. He can hear people cheering for his goals, can feel his team rushing him when he scores the winning goal. Can imagine the tsunami of emotions when he scores the final goal of his highschool career.
“Lance?” His thoughts are cut short, the images of his team crying tears of joy swiped out from under his nose. He turns to look at Pidge, lips pressed into a thin line. He hates getting caught when he’s zoned out. He hates that people know that he’s been doing anything but paying attention. He looks away from her and at the circle that is now dissipating. He somehow managed to zone out for the entire speech. He’s honestly kind of impressed with himself. They make their way back over to Hunk and waste no time driving to the nearest ice cream store. Tomorrow is when they’ll actually celebrate, but they still have one day of school left before summer. Lance has learned the hard way not to miss the last day. Teachers normally take that day to help prepare students for the classes they chose for the next year. It’s also when the seniors do their final walk of the hall. It’s a stupidly dramatic thing, with the marching band trailing behind them, but Lance loves it. He’s always been one for drama.
–
The second the final bell rings, Lance is nearly jumping out of his chair. As much as he likes coming to school to see his friends, the actual work is a nightmare. His grades aren’t bad or anything, he just hates doing the work. If he wasn’t on the soccer team, he’d probably have a lot less motivation to do well in school. He’d be at home playing video games instead of finishing an assignment so his grades stay high enough for him to stay on the team. His mom is also a terrifying person. Last time Lance got a grade lower than a B, he thought he was going to get kicked out. His mom apologized later, but the fear is still deep in Lance’s bones. He watches as his classmates rush into the hall, cheering and yelling as they push towards the door. It’s shockingly similar to what highschool looked like in the movies. Before he can join the crowd though, his physics teacher calls him over. Lance sighs, hopefully out of his earshot, and walks over to his desk.
“Mr. Coran,” Lance says, “what’s poppin’?” Lance easily perches himself on his teachers desk, hardly paying attention to the very full cup of coffee he nearly knocks over. His teacher is looking at him with a raised eyebrow, one hip cocked to the side as his arms cross over his chest. Lance can’t help but smile slightly. He really can’t take his teacher seriously with that squirrel of a mustache on his face.
“Must you always address me like that?” Mr. Coran asks. Lance just shrugs, picking at the bracelet tied tightly around his wrist. He really needs to wash it, the yellow string has absorbed a lot of dirt over this soccer season. Mr. Coran sighs and lets his arms relax. “Right, I’ll get to the point, I can imagine you’d like to go home.”
“Indeed,” Lance says, mocking Mr. Coran’s accent. Mr. Coran brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking a short, but deep breath. Lance seems to have a way of getting on people’s nerves. Somehow, people still tolerate him. It’s a miracle.
“Look, I know your final grades won’t be released until next week, but I wanted to discuss yours with you briefly,” Mr. Coran says. Lance’s smile immediately drops and his shoulders slump just slightly. Mr. Coran’s voice is level and steady, so he has no idea what exactly they’re about to discuss. As far as he knows, his grades aren’t too bad in this class, he actually likes physics. But maybe he’s actually failing and he just didn’t notice and his mom is going to kill him- “it’s a good thing, please don’t make that face.”
Lance lets his face relax -he was definitely frowning- and looks at Mr. Coran with piqued curiosity. It’s not often his grades are good enough to need discussing. Does Mr. Coran think he’s cheating? Is he going to get kicked out of school because his last assignment was perfect? He really needs to keep his mind from spiraling so easily. “Lay it on me then, I’m ready.” Mr. Coran chuckles under his breath and opens the top right drawer of his desk. He pulls out a manila folder that has Lance’s name written on it in squiggly letters. It looks like he’s about to open it and show Lance his x-ray results. Who even uses manila folders anymore? But when he opens it, there are no broken bones or medical results. Instead, it’s the very familiar cover page of Lance’s most recent assignment. The one worth ‘all the money’ as Mr. Coran kept emphasizing.
“You had the highest grade in this class this year,” Mr. Coran says. Lance forgets to breathe for a second. Best in the class? Pidge has this class the period before him. Did he do better than them? Is that even possible? He’s not sure exactly what’s going on, but he feels the need to look for hidden cameras or someone hiding behind a desk. This has to be a prank. Some weird, twisted prank that some stupid asshole thought was funny. It was probably Rolo and his stupid face. “Lance? Did you hear me?” Lance snaps out his head, the image of Rolo’s scowl fading away.
“Yeah, sorry. Yes, I did,” Lance says, “are you saying I did the best in my class, or in the grade? I need concise word choice here. Help a guy out.” He’s rambling. He’s saying too much, like he always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t let himself have this false hope that maybe he actually did something worthwhile. That maybe he can do more than kick a ball into a net. His head is spinning trying to remember every word he wrote on the paper, every number and symbol and equation. What did he do that was so different? Did someone else’s assignment get swapped with his?
“Best in the grade, my boy, that’s why I wanted to talk about it,” Mr. Coran says, “your understanding of astrophysics is impeccable. Your level of comprehension is higher than I’ve seen in almost any student.” Lance wishes he could just take this victory and go. He wishes he could accept his accomplishment and accept the praise without his brain latching onto the rest of Mr. Coran’s sentence.
“Almost any student? But I thought I was the highest in the grade?” Lance says. He knows it’s a shitty thing to say. He knows that his teacher doesn’t want him diminishing his own accomplishments, but he can’t help it. He’s competitive down to his very last bone. He needs to know who he’s up against, even if they graduated ten years ago and work for NASA now. His grades suddenly matter a whole lot more.
“I suppose I’m not meant to tell you, but I see no harm in a friendly competition,” Mr. Coran says, “I’m not sure you’ll know the name, he keeps to himself, but a student of mine last year was beyond belief. First ever 100% I’ve given on this assignment. You’re not far off.” Lance looks down at the bright red 98% that’s on the corner of his assignment. 2% suddenly feels like a lot. It feels like the difference between NASA and being a bus driver.
“What’s his name?” Lance asks. He’s sure Mr. Coran won’t say it. There’s some sort of confidentiality with grades. Only share them if the student permits it or whatever, but Lance doesn’t care. This guy is a grade above him, he’s never going to see him. The seniors are done. Gone forever. Lance will be the new top dog.
“Keith,” Mr. Coran says, “a bright kid. A bit of a troubling attitude, but that seems to be common with the smart ones.” He looks at Lance pointedly and he raises his hands in surrender. He’ll take the insult coated compliment. Mr. Coran thinks he’s smart. That’s probably enough to keep him feeling high and mighty for a whole week.
“Well, it’s unfortunate my rival has graduated,” Lance says. Mr. Coran shakes his head, slipping the folder back into the drawer.
“Look, Lance, I think you should consider our high-science program. It’ll give you some really good opportunities, and there are even a couple trips to the NASA facilities,” Mr. Coran says, “I’d hate to see someone with a mind like yours left behind.” He hands Lance a laminated pamphlet with a picture of some random kid next to an authentic space suit. He takes it, looking over the small paragraph at the bottom of the cover. “Just think about it, okay? I know you’re really into your sports and I can appreciate that, but this could be really good for you.” Lance opens the first flap of the pamphlet and sees the dates for the scheduled trips, meetings and showcases. He sees a lot of overlap with the soccer tournaments.
“Thanks,” Lance says, closing the pamphlet and shoving it, only somewhat gently, into his back pocket as he hops off of the desk, “I’ll think about it. Promise.” Mr. Coran smiles at him in that way that pushes his mustache up to his eyes. Lance can’t help but smile back, even as his brain starts to think a million things at once. What is a person supposed to do when two of their dreams collide?
He finds Hunk and Pidge outside, leaning against the bumped up van Hunk calls his baby. Honestly, that thing has seen a lot. Like the first time Lance blacked out and puked out of the window on the highway. Or when Pidge dislocated their knee and popped in back in on the way to the hospital, purely to avoid the hospital (they had to go anyway, turns out they popped it back in wrong). Or even that time when Hunk dropped the entire batch of cupcakes he made for his girlfriend's family and cried in the front seat for ten minutes. And all of that happened just this year. Thank goodness for Hunk and his early birthday and driver's license. Lance would probably die if he had to take the bus again.
He walks up to them, ignoring the way the pamphlet is burning a hole into his back pocket. He has the whole summer to consider it. For now, he’s going to focus on the excited buzz around him as summer starts. The students around him are happier than ever and he can feel that energy seeping into him. He forgets about school and soccer and homework and stress, he just lets his mind wander to beaches and ice cream and movie marathons. When Hunk spots him, he waves excitedly, dangling his keys in his hands. This is their first summer with someone who can drive. Their possibilities are truly endless. Well, as endless as their part time paychecks can take them.
“Lance! Buddy! Ready to get your summer on?” Hunk asks. Pidge grins up at him with a mischievous look in their eyes. Lance doesn’t like it. He knows that look. That look means trouble and a potential lecture from his mom in the coming days. Lance ignores it for now in favour of looking at Hunk’s blinding grin.
“Hmmm, I’d say so,” Lance says playfully, meeting Hunk’s fist for a rather dramatic bump. Pidge rolls their eyes at them, but there’s a quirk to their lips. They can’t hide their amusement around him and Hunk anymore. “I think I can literally hear the beach calling my name. Do you guys hear that?” He whispers his name under his breath a couple times and earns himself some exasperated laughter.
“The beach is going to have to wait,” Pidge says. Their voice is low, like they’re about to tell a deep dark secret, but Lance knows better. Lance knows this means they’re about to suggest the most gremlin-like idea ever heard on this planet, “there’s this abandoned barn that Matt found and we’re totally going there.” Lance stands up straight at that, his spine suddenly cold. He’s not a particularly scared person. He likes the odd slasher film and he loves a good haunted house, but real ghosts? Yeah, he really doesn’t mess with that. He does not need to be possessed, thank you very much. He looks over and sees the expected fear on Hunk’s face as well. Thank goodness for Hunk and his ability to think rationally.
“That sounds dangerous,” Hunk says. Lance nods enthusiastically, wrapping his arm around Hunk’s broad shoulders the best he can.
“I second that,” Lance says, “an abandoned barn sounds like the perfect setup for a horror movie. I mean look at us, we’re the perfect cast. All we need is some shockingly hot chick to complete the group.” Pidge glares at him, adjusting their glasses to Lance can really see how much venom is in the look.
“You’re ridiculous,” Pidge says, “and who says the chick has to be ‘shockingly hot’, why can’t she just be normal?” Hunk scoffs and puts a heavy hand on Pidge’s shoulder. They glare at him, crossing their arms with a frustrated huff.
“This is how we know you only watch lame indie films,” Hunk says, “it’s literally in the definition of slasher movies. Someone has to be hot, someone has to be a nerd,” he looks directly at Pidge, “someone has to be anything other than white and someone has to be an idiot.” He looks at Lance apologetically, but Lance doesn’t take any offense. The stupid jock characters are always the funniest.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Pidge grumbles, “but come on. It would be super fun. Matt can show us how to get in and everything. We won’t need to risk getting tetanus from a rusty fence.” Pidge is normally really good at convincing Lance and Hunk to do stupid shit, but they’re doing a pretty bad job at it right now. Lance can understand doing stupid shit at night -they literally left a toilet on someone’s lawn once, just cause they could- but this is beyond stupid. It’s illegal, dangerous and could leave him with a haunted demon to follow him around. No thanks.
“Do you not understand how scary ghosts are? What if a spirit attaches itself to you and sabotages our soccer games?” Lance says. He throws his hands up for dramatic effect, but all Pidge does is shrug. They really aren’t going to change their mind on this.
“Look, we’ll be in a group. Us plus Matt and his buddy. The worst thing we’ll see is some homeless person pissing in the corner. It’s fine. People explore this place all the time,” Pidge says, “wasn’t you who said you only live once, so try everything once?” They look at Lance, squinting behind their glasses. Lance sighs and lets his resolve crumble slightly. He hates when his own words get used against him.
“I don’t know, sounds scary,” Hunk says, “I mean, what if we run into other people there? What if they’re the kind of people who like- I don’t know, throw beer bottles at us.” Pidge sighs and honestly, Lance is with them on this one. Lance thought Hunk was on his side, but they are on very different pages. Real people aren’t as scary as the ones you can’t see.
“Fine, I’m in as long as you promise you won’t ever tell my mom we did this. She is very much not a fan of- well she doesn’t want me breaking the law,” Lance says. Pidge just grins, sticking out their fist between Hunk and Lance. With weighted sighs, they meet their fist in the middle for a three way bump.
“To summer!” Pidge exclaims, yanking the passenger door open, “get in losers, we have some shopping to do.” Lance and Hunk share a glance. There’s no backing out now.
–
Lance thought he was more than okay with this whole abandoned barn thing, but now that he’s squished between Matt and his friend in the back of the van, he’s starting to get really nervous. The sun is just setting and there’s a full moon. Of course there’s a full moon. Not only are they going to be surrounded by ghosts, but werewolves and vampires might join the party.
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” Hunk says. He’s the one driving and he could very easily turn around and drive as far as possible, but he doesn’t. Honestly, Lance can’t blame him, with Pidge in the passenger seat, that’s about as close to a death wish as you can get. Once Pidge has their mind set on something, there’s no changing it.
“Because it’s going to be super fun and you’re going to have a great time,” Matt says. Lance sighs. Pidge and Matt are nothing but trouble when they’re in the same room. Look, Lance likes a good sibling relationship, he understands how deep that connection can go, but Matt and Pidge are something else entirely. They become the spawn of Satan when they’re together. It’s like every bad idea they’ve ever had gets amplified. The fact that Matt’s bag is suspiciously Ouija board shaped is only proving his point further.
“If I’m haunted for the rest of my life, I’m blaming the Holts,” Lance says, “may your family be cursed just as bad as I am in that scenario.” Hunk chuckles from the driver's seat and he seems to earn some amused laughter from the aforementioned Holts. He brings his attention to the very silent man next to him. “What was it? Shiro? Do you think this is a good idea?” Shiro turns to look at Lance with an eyebrow raised. He looks at Lance like the answer is obvious, as if he should know just based on the way his eyebrow is raised.
“I’m not sure I could say no to Matt,” Shiro says with a shrug, “he’s a scary guy.” Lance just looks at him skeptically. Sure, Matt may be just as much of a demon as Pidge, but Shiro is like… he’s a fucking unit. His shoulders are just as broad as Hunk’s and his entire body seems to be covered in thick, strong muscles. His jaw is sharp, his features mature but friendly. Everything about him screams strong. He genuinely can’t imagine him being scared of Matt. Lance isn’t even scared of Matt, not the way he’s scared of Pidge. Is Pidge absolutely certain they’re just good buddies? “Why are you looking at me like that?” Shiro asks. Lance just shrugs and swivels his head to look at Matt the same way.
“Just thinking,” Lance says. He hears Pidge snort from the front, but he ignores them. Matt seems to crumble under his gaze quicker and a light flush comes over his cheeks. That’s all Lance needs. He crosses his arms and leans back with a satisfied sigh. He can’t say he expected Shiro to be Matt’s type, but he also can’t blame him. Shiro is fucking hot.
“Lance, can you not scrutinize my brother and his friend,” Pidge says after a while, “they’re the reason we’re getting in here without a giant pair of wire cutters.” Lance rolls his eyes and meets their eyes when they look back at him.
“With your brain? Are you kidding, you’d be pulling up with some laser cutter or something,” Lance says. Hunk hums in agreement and it just makes Pidge mumble something under their breath before turning back to face the front.
“Are you guys always like this?” Shiro asks. Lance looks at him, eyebrows pinched together. Shiro raises his hands in surrender and smiles, “hey, just an innocent question.” Lance shakes his head and turns forward without saying another word. His facade only lasts so long when he sees Pidge trying, and failing, to swat at a bug that has made it into the van. The rest of the drive consists of muffled laughter and playful insults. Lance starts to forget what they’re actually doing, and it just feels like he’s hanging out with his friends in one of their basements. Shiro seems to fit in pretty well, and Lance is happy about it for Matt’s sake. Matt looks at him like Shiro has the answer to every problem he’s ever had.
When Hunk takes a sharp right turn, all of the nerves jump back into Lance’s stomach. He watches as the barn gets closer and closer. He shivers as tree branches scrape against the side of the van. He’s immediately on edge, and he can feel Shiro and Matt tense up next to him. He’s glad he’s not the only one who’s a bit nervous. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as Hunk closes the last bit of distance to the barn. When the van comes to a stop, he opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. The barn is huge. It’s made of wood and it’s falling apart and rotting in too many places to count. The red paint is chipping off and every piece of metal on the exterior is completely rusted.
“Holy shit,” Hunk says.
“Dido,” Lance says.
Pidge just turns around in their seat to look at them with pure excitement in their eyes. Lance takes a deep breath. They’re really doing this. They’re going to walk into a deathtrap and they’re going to be part of some stupid horror movie. He can’t believe his life has led him to this point. He’s too young to die.
“Matt, give me the bag, I need the flashlights,” Pidge says. Matt doesn’t waste a second to shove the bag into their arms and swing the door of the van open. Lance shivers as the cool air of the night hits him, and he’s really starting to regret this whole thing. Why couldn’t they have just gotten a little bit too drunk in Pidge’s basement like normal highschoolers? Why did Pidge have to drag them into their weird spooky shit?
“Guys, are we sure we won’t get in trouble for this?” Lance asks. Hunk hums in agreement and Pidge just rolls their eyes, practically jumping out of the car. Lance watches as they round the front and yank Hunk’s door open, making him gasp slightly. Hunk must be very on edge. Lance can’t blame him.
“You guys are so dramatic,” Pidge says, “even if ghosts are real, they have no reason to haunt us, we’re not that special.” Hunk takes a shaky breath and gets out of the van, shutting the engine off. The stark silence it leaves them in rattles Lance’s bones for a second.
“Besides, none of us have dead enemies,” Matt says, but then he narrows his eyes and looks at all of them suspiciously, “right?” Lance can’t help but laugh softly. He does have his friends around him. They have the power of numbers. Plus, Shiro and Hunk probably look pretty fucking scary from a distance. Lance is going to pretend they’re his bodyguards.
“Now get your asses out of the car, I’m already getting bored,” Pidge says. Lance sighs and crawls out of the car. He hears Shiro getting out of the other side and with a final slam, all of the doors of the van are closed. It is still frighteningly silent around them, but Lance finds a small comfort in the crickets and trees rustling in the wind. It reminds him of his peaceful and very safe backyard. He would really love to be in his backyard right now. Matt walks up next to him and flicks his ear and he jumps. He turns to scowl at him and Matt just smiles at him innocently.
“Stop looking so tense, I promise I wouldn’t bring you here if it was dangerous,” Matt says, “you guys are like my honorary little siblings,” he ruffles Lance’s hair, “plus my mom would actually murder me if anything happened to you guys.” Lance grumbles and crosses his arms, but honestly it does make him feel a bit better. He does trust Matt. He may only be four years older than Lance, but he did spend a lot of time at Pidge’s house during highschool so far. Matt is definitely like a brother to him. Lance looks past the car and watches as Pidge jumps all over Hunk. There’s the ghost of a smile on his face, but he’s trying to stay as still as a statue.
“What are you guys talking about?” Shiro asks, coming up beside them. Lance only jumps slightly and turns to face him, tilting his chin up slightly to see him properly. Damn he’s tall. How has Matt never mentioned his extremely hot friend before?
“We’re talking about you protecting us from the demons,” Lance says. Matt chuckles and Lance just takes a short breath and looks between the two.
“I mean, I’m not against that, but that’s not what we were talking about,” Matt says, “just letting this guy know he doesn’t need to be scared.” Lance sighs and glares at Matt and he just shrugs. He’s fine with Matt throwing him under the bus. He’d do it too if Shiro was looking at him like that.
“I know my prosthetic arm looks cool, but it doesn’t have any weapons,” Shiro says, wrapping said prosthetic arm around Matt's shoulders. Matt flushes and Lance finds it sort of adorable. In the three years he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him flustered before. But Shiro seems to be pretty damn good at it.
“Hey losers, get over here,” Pidge says, “it’s not gonna be dark forever.” They are currently clinging to Hunk’s back, waving a flashlight at them enthusiastically. Hunk’s lips are pressed into a thin line, but Lance can tell some of his nerves have eased as well. Honestly, Lance is starting to get excited. He feels like a real teenager. And sure, they might be walking into the beginning of a horror movie, but at least they’re together. When they get to Pidge, Shiro’s arm is still around Matt and Pidge shares a knowing glance with Lance. He smiles and pulls Pidge off of Hunk’s back and they make it to the secret entrance Matt knew all about. It’s a decently sized hole in the fence that’s directly in front of a hole in the barn.
“How did you find this?” Hunk asks, “do you prowl abandoned places regularly?” Matt shrugs, but it earns him a skeptical look from Shiro. He crumbles almost immediately under Shiro’s gaze.
“I get bored sometimes when I can’t sleep, so I just end up exploring,” Matt says. Shiro’s arm slips off of him and he grabs both of his shoulders so they’re facing each other. Lance smirks and leans his weight back on Hunk as he watches them. Pidge just sighs and starts walking through the hole in the fence.
“You do stuff like this alone?” Shiro asks with genuine concern. Matt looks down at his feet and mumbles something under his breath that Lance can’t hear. Shiro shakes his head and lightly hits the side of Matt’s head. “Call me when you do that, okay? I don’t like the thought of you out here alone.” Lance smiles. The hopeless romantic in him is eating this up. He wonders what has actually been established between them or if he’s actively getting to watch things unfold.
“Alright dad, can we go now?” Pidge yells from the other side of the fence. Lance looks between and watches as Shiro lets go of Matt, clearing his throat as he walks forward. Lance has a feeling he’s going to get to watch this unfold. Lance has never heard Pidge call someone dad. He squints at Shiro and studies his face.
“How old are you?” Lance asks, following behind Shiro as Matt scrambles to keep up with them. Shiro chuckles and holds up a section of the fence so Lance can walk through. If Lance had to guess, he’d say no older than 23. But he could also be 35 and just look really damn good for his age. It’s hard to tell.
“I’m 24,” Shiro says, holding the fence up as Matt and Hunk walk through. Once they’re all past it, Pidge is waiting for them at the hole in the barn, yawning dramatically. “Ancient compared to you, huh?” Damn. Lance likes when guys are older than him, but that’s like a lifetime.
“I mean, I’m not that young,” Lance says, watching as his friends start to slip into the building, “I’m like super mature and grown up.” Shiro laughs softly and kicks Lance’s heel to get him moving towards the entrance.
“You’re like basically my brother's age, that makes you a baby,” Shiro says, “now get into the barn before they leave us behind.” Lance sighs, but he pushes forward, but he turns to whisper to Shiro just before they’re in earshot.
“I don’t think Matt would leave you behind,” Lance says with a small smirk. He watches as Shiro’s posture straightens slightly and the slightest little blush crawls over his cheeks.
–
Lance is actually really glad he decided to come to this barn. Exploring has been some of the most fun he’s had in a while. He forgot how much fun it is to just fuck around with his friends and forget about everything else in his life. They’ve basically gone around every little corner, looking at every little thing they can. It’s full of hushed laughter and playful shoving. Lance completely forgets to be scared and by the time they’re sitting in a circle, he’s completely calm and content. Until Pidge pulls out the Ouija board. Then it all comes crashing back to him and he shrinks in on himself, grabbing Hunk’s arm.
“Who’s ready to talk to some ghosts?” Pidge asks with that stupid evil smirk on their face. Lance and Hunk shake their heads, holding onto each other for dear life. Matt springs to life at the question, leaning forward to inspect the board as Pidge sets the planchet in the middle.
“How does this work?” Shiro asks. Matt is quick to turn to him and he starts going on a small ramble about the Ouija board and all of the history behind it. Shiro listens intently and seems genuinely interested. May love that pure find him one day. Once the lengthy explanation is done, Pidge makes them all scoot closer and they sit around the board in silence. They only have one flashlight on, sitting on the ground behind Pidge, shining a bright circle on the ceiling.
“Okay, so we’ll have Lance and Hunk go first,” Pidge says mischievously. Hunk freezes and Lance glares at them. He doesn’t know what they’re up to, just that it definitely can’t be good. He quite literally would rather do anything else. Hell, he’d rather be sitting in his stupid history class than sitting here right now.
“Why?” Hunk asks. His voice is shaky and Lance is sure his wouldn’t come out much better. Pidge just has an eyebrow raised, a devilish smirk playing at their lips. He glances over at Matt and Shiro and sees them pressed together, with similar looks of apprehension on their faces. So much for Matt telling him not to be nervous.
“Look, I just want to get things going, I promise nothing bad will happen,” Pidge says, “I doubt there are even any ghosts here. Plus, you guys look terrified, it will be hilarious.” Lance rolls his eyes and finally lets go of Hunk’s bicep. Hunk whines slightly in protest, but scoots forward with Lance regardless. They sit next to each other, knees bumping as they reach forward to put their fingers on the planchet. They both look up at Pidge expectantly.
“Say hello,” Matt says, “ask if there are any entities that wanna talk with us. We’ll know the answer pretty quickly.” With a shaky breath, Lance turns to look at Hunk and they nod at the same time. Fuck it, they might as well do this. Pidge is probably right, there’s no chance there are actually ghosts in here. No one died here, no one was trapped or hurt here. It’s just a regular barn succumbing to the trials of time.
“Hello,” Lance says. He’s proud of how steady his voice comes out. Hunk is breathing rapidly next to him, but Lance tries to ignore it to calm his own nerves, “are there any entities in here that would like to talk with us?” His voice is shakier when the full sentence comes out, but he hardly has any time to think about that when he looks down. The planchet is moving, very slowly, towards the ‘yes’ on the board. Lance holds his breath, silently freaking out as it moves.
“Are you doing that?” Hunk asks in a panic. Lance shakes his head violently.
“I thought you were moving it!” Lance exclaims, watching in horror as it continues to move. They go back and forth staring at each other and the planchet until it reaches yes. Once it does, they sit there in a tense silence, unsure of how to proceed. Then Pidge, being the demon they are, suddenly lunges at them, screaming a random string of syllables. Lance is certain he screams loud enough for the entire planet to hear him. He grumbles, looking at the planchet now on the other side of the room. Hunk has a hand to his heart and Lance has his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Pidge is holding their side, laughing so hard there are tears forming in their eyes.
“Holy shit, you should have seen your faces,” Pidge says, “did you see that?” They look to Matt and Shiro, who just nod slightly, seemingly also recovering from Pidge’s scream.
“How the fuck was that thing moving?” Lance asks once his heart slows to a reasonable rate. Pidge smirks and cracks their knuckles, adjusting their glasses on their nose. Matt sighs like he knows exactly what Pidge is going to say.
“I made you guys go first cause people who are scared move it subconsciously,” Pidge says with a shrug, “that’s how Ouija boards work. Your little micromovements push it along.” Lance sighs and slumps against Hunk. Remind him again why he’s even friends with this loser? Things are a lot less scary after that and they all take turns messing around with the board, asking stupid questions and making up stupid answers.
An hour or so later and they’re all in a corner of the barn where some old wooden benches line the wall. Pidge is laying on the floor, telling some story about a field trip where they almost died, Hunk and Lance are sharing a chair, using each other to stay warm in the cool night air, and Shiro and Matt are cuddled together on a bench and Lance can see Shiro’s prosthetic hand holding Matt’s gently. He wonders if that’s a regular occurrence for them. Eventually, Pidge runs out of stories to tell and Lance swears his lips are starting to turn blue from being cold (despite it being the start of summer), so they head back to the van, making sure to pick up anything they left behind or knocked over.
The van is a welcome sight as Lance realizes just how tired he is. He slips into the back seat, letting Shiro and Matt sit next to each other this time. Hunk starts the van up, letting Pidge take control of the music. Thankfully, they seem to be tired too, so the music is much more tame than normal, allowing Lance to look out at the stars with a soft smile on his face. He’s really glad to have his friends in his life. He’s not entirely sure what he’d do without them.