Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Psst!”

The whisper was accompanied with a gentle shake on Lance’s shoulder that he shrugged off with a sleepy mumble, pressing his face further against his arm.

The shake came again, harder, and with a tired grumble Lance rolled his head in Hunk’s direction to tell him five more min—

Hunk was not the person shaking him awake.

Nor was he in his bed in their dorm room.

He was…

Lance jerked upright, feeling his cheeks heating, as his calculus 115 class — the large auditorium style room and the class’ senior TA who had been the one trying to wake him  — swam into view.

Oh Dios. He’d fallen asleep in class. In Professor Ryner’s class.

And Professor Ryner had made it very clear she did not tolerate disrespect in her classroom and what was more disrespectful than falling asleep and oh Dios he was going to get kicked ou—

The TA — Lance’s brain scrambling to remember his name, Steve? Shawn? Shane? Shane! — held a finger to his lips with a small, friendly smile, and continued down the outer aisle and the lecture continued on down below without any disruption.

Lance shuddered out a breath.

Professor Ryner hadn’t noticed.

And while that was a good thing Lance was now realizing he’d apparently been dozing a good chunk of the class away as he didn’t even have half a page of notes and this lecture had been really important as they had always had a quiz on the second Friday and Professor Ryner included material from all classes leading up to that and quizzes made up almost forty percent of his grade so it was important he did well, especially as he’d gotten a C on the last one.

He felt his cheeks heating for a different reason as he needed to get at least a B in the class to move onto Calculus 116, both of which he needed for his major for his dream to be a pilot for NASA, and math and him…

Didn’t really mix.

He’d been doing okay for the first couple months but the concepts were getting harder now and the workload across all his classes was increasing not to mention the swim team — of which he was at Galaxy Garrison University on a swim scholarship and so that had to take precedence if he wanted to keep his scholarship — was having more meets and more practices and he was so tired. 

They’d had a meet this past weekend all the down in Texas and between the full meet schedule and the jetlag and then the plane delay Lance hadn’t gotten back to campus until almost three in the morning, tumbled into bed, and then dragged himself to his eight a.m. calculus class.

It was no wonder he’d fallen asleep.

But that wasn’t a good reason.

And so Lance needed to pay attention, focus, and see what he could glean from the remainder of the lesson and hope if it would be enough to give him an idea of what he needed for the quiz.

He learned as class wrapped up fifteen minutes later it was not.

His notes were woefully short and between Professor Ryner’s no talking policy and Lance’s love of sleeping in that he always got to class right on time and not early he hadn’t really made any friends in class to ask to copy their notes.

But…

His gaze darted down to the lower level where Professor Ryner was chatting with two students and where the TA Shane was packing up papers in an overflowing binder.

Professor Ryner had told them all at the start of the semester that while her office hours were limited her TA would be available for additional assistance if they made an appointment. And, well, this might finally be the time to admit he needed some additional help. That, and he really wanted to thank the other boy for waking him up and avoiding Professor Ryner’s displeasure.

Lance finished packing up his bookbag and slung the strap over his shoulder, tentatively picking his way over to Shane, who was wrestling the binder now into a bag of his own, but he must have sensed Lance as he looked up and sent a large smile his way.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” he teased and Lance felt his cheeks heat even as his gaze darted over to Professor Ryner, who did not appear to hear the comment that alluded Lance had been napping in her class. “Long night, huh?” Shane continued conversationally, expression sympathetic.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance nodded his head. “I got back in late last night with the swim team—”

“Swim team?” Shane interrupted, eyes lighting up. “Should have guessed that, what with your body, huh?” and hazel eyes raked Lance up and down where his slender form was on full display in a fitted tee-shirt and skinny jeans and (off-brand) converse. “What do you swim?”

“Um,” Lance rubbed the back of his head, this conversation not going quite the way he’d anticipated and admittedly feeling a little unbalanced and not just from the lack of sleep. “Front crawl, breaststroke and on relay team.”

“Full load,” Shane nodded his head almost knowingly. “My old roommate was on the team; did breaststroke and back,” and at that Lance perked up as well as relaxed at the familiar and beloved topic. “Man, he was always so wiped after a tournament. Made wrestling look easy,” he chuckled.

“You’re a wrestler?” Lance asked and in response Shane flexed a very clearly large and defined bicep muscle with a grin. 

“Not here on scholarship or anything,” Shane said, “don’t think I could handle that kind of pressure,” and based on Lance’s small wince he knew Shane had pegged him as just that kind of student, “but wrestled all through high school and couldn’t give it up. Impressive though that you’re here on the scholarship for swim; that’s a tough program to get into, ‘specially with Shirogane, yeah?”

Takashi Shirogane, or as he told the team to call him Shiro, was a graduate student at GGU also in the pilot track but if that wasn’t enough to make him an idol in Lance’s eyes he was also a former gold medal olympian for swim and served as an assistant coach under Coach Joey Blaytz.

It was literally a dream come true to work for Shiro, but it did involve a lot of work and practice and hence why Lance was now letting that part of his college life bleed (or sleep, rather) into his academic work. 

“And oh, look at me yammering,” Shane’s grin widened, “and I didn’t even catch your name, sleeping beauty. Unless,” his eyebrows waggled, “that is your name.”

“Oh, um, no. It’s Lance,” Lance answered, back to feeling al little off kilter as was Shane… flirting with him? Or just being friendly? “Lance Esposito. And, um, thank you. For earlier.”

“No sweat, Lance,” Shane’s hand clapped on his shoulder, nearly sending Lance’s knees buckling at the force. “We’ve all been there and I wouldn’t want you to start your Monday off on a bad note. Gotta look out for the little guy, you know?” he beamed at him.

Lance tentatively matched the smile — friendly, he decided on, with a bit of humor that his friend Pidge would appreciate more than he did — before it fell slightly as he remembered why he’d come down to talk to the TA in the first place.

“About that,” Lance’s fingers tightened in his shoulder strap. “Um, since I missed some of the lesson and it’s really important for the quiz on Friday, is there a chance you have office hours, maybe? I, I don’t want to take up too much of your time—”

“Of course, Lance, of course,” Shane’s hand still on his shoulder gave a squeeze. “All the math TAs have open hours from two to four on Mondays. Swing by today and I’ll take care of you.”

Lance breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Shane gave his shoulder a pat and lifted his hand away. “I’ll look forward to seeing you later. But right now, if I’m not mistaken, aren’t you usually dashing away to another class right after this?”

Lance paled.

Oh Dios. 

That’s right.

Today was Monday.

Monday was back to back morning classes for his general education English class in a building all the way across the campus’ main quad that was an easy seven minutes and he had ten for passing and he’d just used up almost five and Dios, he was so tired. 

“Right! Thank you. And um, bye!” Lance practically yelped as he pivoted on his heel. 

And putting his head down and praying, Lance sprinted to his next class.

xxx

“You look like shit.”

Lance lifted his head up from where it was cradled atop his arm on the lunchroom table to shoot a glare at Pidge, a fellow freshman although she was only fifteen and here as early acceptance and she’d become fast friends with his best friend, Hunk, as they shared a lot of classes for computer programming and coding (Hunk on engineering track, Pidge on computer science), which meant she’d become a fast friend of Lance’s too even if he was still taken aback by how such a small, innocent looking person could be so violent and vulgar.

She looked back, cinnamon eyes unblinking. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lance mumbled, putting his head back down to try to drown out the overbright cafeteria lights and the building headache.

“Pidge, be nice,” Hunk chided gently while a large hand just as gently patted the top of Lance’s head. “He got in late last night.”

“Just saying. Our resident beauty expert has bags. ”

And Lance knew that was Pidge’s way of expressing her concern as Lance did care a lot about his appearance and it wasn’t normal for him to put on anything but his best.

However neither was a six hour long flight delay and Lance had most definitely not gotten his required eight hours of sleep as he’d never slept well during travel.

“Shh,” Hunk shushed her as his hand continued to pet Lance’s hair in the soothing motion he knew Lance loved and Lance hummed his appreciation. “Let him rest. You want to go over our powerpoint for Slav one last time?”

The sound of Pidge pulling her laptop out of her bag answered that and a moment later the two tech geniuses had lapsed into a soothing sort of babble around him while Hunk continued to pet his hair.

Despite the loudness and brightness of the cafeteria Lance could feel himself starting to fall asleep and he knew if he somehow did Hunk would wake him and make sure he made it to his next class. Prior to his impromptu nap on the cafeteria table though Lance had made himself eat all of his sandwich, cup of soup, bag of chips and a banana as despite how tired he was Lance knew how important it was that he did eat, especially as he’d skipped breakfast.

Swimming used a lot of calories and energy and it was important to refuel. Despite the long weekend they still had swim practice at six tonight and Lance never ate before practice so if he didn’t eat now it wouldn’t be until eight in the evening.

And the thought of being so exhausted and fatigued that he might faint in front of Shiro had been the push Lance needed despite how tired he was to inhale his lunch. That, and if he was that stupid to go into practice not properly fueled Blaytz would sideline him. And while Lance needed to compete for his scholarship he wanted to compete as he loved the thrill of the race and combined with the near magical, weightless feeling of the water rushing past him as he propelled himself through it, it was perfection on Earth.

And he didn’t want to stop at just Earth. That was why he wanted to be a pilot and go to space. 

Because the galaxy was a sea of stars and it was his goal to swim amongst them. 

But in order to get there he had to get good grades to pass his classes and it all led back to his current situation.

He had one more class after lunch — biology, also required for his track — and then he had to rush to the tutoring, maybe have time after to drop his book bag at the dorm before he rushed to the far end of campus to the school’s pool for practice. 

It was going to be a long, long day.

But, he comforted himself, his first class tomorrow wasn’t until ten and if there was ever a day he deserved to sleep in a bit it’d be tomorrow. He’d take it easy then, just had to push through today.

After a tiny little lunch nap.

Lance’s eyes fluttered closed and he was lulled to sleep by Hunk’s hand still gently carding his hair and the quiet tones of his friends.

xxx

The math tutoring room was packed. 

Lance hovered in the doorway as he gazed at the sea of fellow students gathered at the study stables while the four TAs — identified by bright red lanyards — were dotted throughout the room and all very clearly already busy. 

Lance should have figured as much. His class didn’t get out until three and the math building was a bit of a walk and he’d gotten caught up chatting with his lab partner Nadia about their upcoming project and setting up a good time around his swim practice and her tennis practice and yearbook club and so he hadn’t gotten to tutoring until almost three thirty and with it wrapping up in thirty minutes everyone who had wanted help had already arrived and claimed it.

But now…

His hand tightened on his bag strap, stomach clenching.

If he didn’t get help now then he’d go into Wednesday’s lesson behind and he’d be even more confused and there would be no catching up and then he’d probably fail the quiz and—

“Lance!”

The shout of his name had his head snapping up to see Shane  — shaggy blond hair a golden beacon in the fluorescent lighting — waving at him from across the room and gesturing at a spot at the table he was currently sitting with.

Lance broke into a trot, chest untightening.

Oh gracias a Dios. 

He wasn’t too late.

“Hey there sleeping beauty,” Shane greeted him, and Lance felt his cheeks heat slightly at the apparent moniker he’d picked up. He supposed he should be glad Shane hadn’t shouted that across the packed room.  “Take a seat and we can get started in just a second.”

Lance slipped into the open chair and began to pull out his notebook and a pencil while Shane turned to a female student and continued to go over something in one of her books, the girl nodding along.

“Okay, you try the next one,” Shane said a moment later. “I’ll check in with you before closing call.”

“Thanks, Shane,” she smiled at him. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Fail algebra,” Shane teased back at her and she stuck her tongue out before turning back to her book. “Which speaking of,” he pivoted in his chair so his knees bumped against Lance’s under the table, “let’s make sure you don’t fail calculus, Lance. Where should we start?”

“Um,” Lance looked at his scribbled notes. “I got to where Professor Ryner was going over the left-handed limits, but I don’t really understand them at all. Or,” his eyes looked down, “the right-handed ones.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” Shane squeezed his shoulder. “Math can be hard and it’s harder when it keeps building on itself.” Lance nodded. Exactly. “So let’s start at the beginning. Right-hand limits approach the specified point from positive infinity and left-handed are the opposite, meaning their point is from the negative infinity. This means…”

Shane, Lance found, was a really good teacher. He didn’t tell Lance the answers but helped guide him to them and provided plenty of example problems for Lance to solve as practice he said, made perfect. And as an athlete he knew Lance could understand that. 

And Lance did.

Professor Ryner did some examples but her lectures were more theory based and he found he actually preferred Shane’s style, which was similar to Professor Nyma’s in biology, and easier for him to follow.

But a half hour was not long enough to go through the entire lecture, especially at this slower pace, and before Lance knew it the clock was chiming out four p.m. and everyone was starting to pack up around him and he still needed at least an hour to get through the rest of the lesson. 

There was nothing he could do about it though except do his best to go through his textbook and compare it to the notes he now had from Shane and maybe if Hunk wasn’t too busy although he hated to bother him even though he knew Hunk loved to help he could try to help him make sense of it and—

“You know,” Shane cut into his growing thoughts, “I’ve got a little time before I’m meeting friends for dinner. If you want to we can go to the library and finish up?”

Lance’s mouth dropped at the generous offer. 

“Really?” he asked, flushing as soon as he said it as that was so rude but Shane just laughed.

“Really,” he smiled at him. “Like I said, this stuff builds and builds and I don’t want you to fall behind.”

“Then, um, thank you. If, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Shane patted his shoulder. “Come on, the English majors are going to be overrunning this room in a few.”

Lance followed Shane’s broad shoulders through the thick crowds of students all getting out of final classes for the day and swarming the sidewalks to the library, where Shane stopped to chat for a moment with the student worker on duty who handed him a keycard for one of the private study rooms.

“Up we go,” Shane said, re-shouldering his own heavy looking bookbag, “study room two oh four.”

The room was definitely on the smaller side with one table squeezed into the windowless room and two chairs crammed in under them, but Lance, knowing how hard it was to get study rooms without at least a two-day reservation, wasn’t about to complain as otherwise the library required all study groups and tutoring sessions to be held in the main atrium and it was no quieter than going to the student activity center. 

So he took a seat and Shane squeezed in with a soft grunt, as while he was maybe only an inch taller than Lance he was probably about double his weight with all of his muscle, next to him.

“Okay,” Shane said, left arm thrown about the back of Lance’s chair and fingers brushing his shoulder as he settled on his own chair, and Lance did his best to ignore it as the room was small and Shane was large and it was fine, “where were we?”

The lesson continued.

And so did Shane’s continued touch to his shoulder. 

Lance had tried to subtly shift out from beneath it a couple times, trying to give Shane more space, Shane followed. 

Maybe, Lance reasoned, Shane came from a tactile family too. Lance’s family didn’t tend to have personal space boundaries and he’d already seen Shane reach out on multiple occasions in generally supportive gestures so maybe that’s all it was; an unconscious act of support. It fit in a way of what else Lance had observed of the TA in both class as he assisted Professor Ryner and other students and in the tutoring lounge and he was a really, really good teacher.

Still…

Shane was practically leaning into Lance now, his breath warm on Lance’s ear as he tried to solve the sample problem Shane had given him, and it was just…

Too close.

And for Lance, that really was saying something.

He swallowed, not sure how to say something without offending the senior boy because Lance really did appreciate his help and patience and he didn’t want to make things awkward because that would make the rest of the semester awkward and—

“Hey,” Shane gave him a nudge, “I don’t see that pencil moving.”

Lance swallowed again and turned away from his paper to the other boy, stomach clenching as doing so put them nearly nose to nose and Shane did not pull back.

Lance did, slightly.

“Sorry,” he apologized, and he really was. “It’s just, um, a little hard to concentrate with you so…” Shane’s hazel eyes stared directly into his own, barely a hand’s width away, “close,” Lance finished with.

Shane at least didn’t seem to take offense, letting out a laugh and to Lance’s relief leaning back in his chair, his arm sliding off of Lance’s. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized, grin still in place, “I don’t always realize how much space I’m taking up. All these big muscles,” he flexed his arm again.

“Yeah,” Lance offered a sheepish smile, “I don’t have that problem.”

“No you don’t,” Shane agreed, his eyes scanning Lance just like before in the classroom but this time Lance felt his stomach clench as something uncomfortable prickled across his skin.

Lance knew flirting (even if he didn’t tend to get very far and Hunk had begged him to stop with the pick up lines even if most girls Lance used them on seemed amused rather than offended by them although, in fairness, Lance had yet to get a date using them so maybe Hunk was on to something) but most importantly he knew flirting really only worked if both parties reciprocated, even if just in good fun.

And Shane…

Shane was definitely, in some way, flirting with him.

And Lance did not like it. He didn’t like it at all and wasn’t interested whatsoever in Shane or any other guy flirting with him.

He didn’t know how though, without coming off as super rude, to tell him to stop. He had never done well with confrontation — unless it was standing up to anyone bullying Hunk — and the thought of saying anything further was making him feel sick. 

But Shane was turning back to Lance’s notebook, his hands to himself other than the one he used to point at the diagram and Lance’s fallen pencil, and said, “Let’s see that pencil moving, Lance. What’s the next step?”

Lance took the out.

The lesson proceeded without any further touch, other than Shane’s legs bumping his once as he shifted, and at just before five thirty they’d made it through the entire lesson and Lance had honestly never closed his notebook feeling more confident in what he’d just learned.

And that was what he should focus on.

“You’re a really good teacher, Shane,” he said quietly, shooting him a small but sincere smile and was rewarded as Shane beamed back at him.

“I want to open my own tutoring center when I graduate,” Shane smiled at him as Lance packed up and Shane stood, giving Lance more space to do so as he waited by the door. “I’ve learned a lot from the professors here and my old high school teachers and I’ve seen what works and what doesn’t for all types of both students and subjects.”

“That’s really cool,” Lance said, honestly. 

He’d struggled a lot in school and while he might not be a genius like Hunk he wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t tend to grasp concepts as easily and being lectured on them rather than being shown didn’t work for him, but, unfortunately, that’s how most of the teachers he’d had taught, and they hadn’t had much patience for the fact he was ESL — English as a second language — and sometimes he needed a few extra moments to figure out how everything worked together but by then they had already moved on. That only made him feel further behind and feel stupid as he struggled. 

But Shane had not made him once feel inferior or even embarrassed that they’d stayed on the same concept for far longer than Lance should have needed and he actually felt like he understood the lesson rather than grasping the edges and hoping it was enough.

It was a good feeling.

“We’ll have to see how it goes,” Shane said, opening the door as Lance stood up, hefting his bag onto his shoulder. “But I’ve got a good feeling and working with a friend more on the business and marketing side to see about getting it off the ground. Which, speaking of, I’ve got dinner to get to and you have swim practice.”

A friendly goodbye and parting and Lance could reciprocate that, grateful and relieved things seemed to be back on even footing and whatever that had been before had disappeared. 

“Thank you again for helping me,” Lance said, stepping outside of the room as Shane turned to lock the door behind them. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Shane turned and reached out to pat his shoulder and Lance told himself not to pull away at the friendly, supportive gesture. “Always here to be your knight in shining armor, sleeping beauty.”

Lance’s smile faltered.

What?

What had he just—?

“Off you go now,” Shane’s thumb rubbed along his shoulder, squeezing gently, before his hand flattened and gave Lance the barest nudge forward.

Lance took a large step, heart beating far too fast in his chest.

What had…?

What had that…?

Shane just smiled at him and raised a hand up in a wave.

Lance shakily did the same. “Um,” he took another step away from the grinning senior. “Bye.”

“See you Wednesday,” Shane called after him.

Lance’s thudding pulse and clenched stomach accompanied him all the way to practice. 

Chapter Text

He was overthinking things.

That’s all it was.

He was still overtired from the weekend and Shane was just being friendly and he thought he was being funny and Lance hadn’t told him he wasn’t and that’s all it was.

Absolutely all it was.

Lance took a heaving breath as he reached the end of his lane and the last of his laps for this set, holding onto the edge of the pool and resting his forehead against the cool ceramic.

Swimming always made him feel better, always literally washed away the stress and heaviness of the day, but not this time.

This time he felt heavy.

Slow.

Distracted. 

And it was showing in his times too and practice or competition Lance should be putting forward his best.

He was not putting forward his best.

“Lance,” Shiro called from where he was standing two lanes over and watching the swimmers, and while his tone was light his expression was the barest bit furrowed, “come over here for a sec.”

Lance’s stomach plummeted.

Normally he relished any one-on-one time he had with Shiro as he hung to every word and piece of advice the former Olympian had and he didn’t even mind criticism and critique because all of it was helping him, but…

But this time he could feel would be different.

Still he swam over, ducking under the lane dividers and turned his face up with the best smile he could muster and a bright, “Yup?” making sure to snap the ‘p’.

Shiro’s lips quirked up but then he gestured his hand to the side, which was the signal to get out of the pool.

Lance’s stomach tightened again.

He hauled himself out though, dripping water and swiping a hand backwards through his damp bangs, just in time to see Shiro holding out a towel.

And a towel meant he wasn’t going back in despite the fact they still had an hour of practice left. 

Lance numbly took it.

“Come sit with me,” Shiro inclined his head towards the nearest set of bleachers, the lower three levels reserved for the swim team but the upper levels peppered with students; some coming to watch the practice but most there because they liked the humid air of the pool house and the mostly quiet atmosphere it offered as a studying or gathering response. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance blurted out as soon as he’d perched on the edge of the cold metal bench, towel tight about his shoulders and hopefully hiding the slight tremble that had overtaken his hands. “I—”

“Why are you apologizing?” Shiro interrupted him before he could get another word out, but despite the interruption his tone was kind and his eyes were soft.

Lance’s eyes widened.

What?

“You’re not in trouble, buddy,” Shiro continued, setting a warm hand on his towel clad shoulder, his touch not sending any uneasy ripple through him. “I just wanted to check in with you. You feeling all right?”

“Um, yeah,” Lance said, feeling his cheeks heat now with embarrassment at the fact he was performing so poorly Shiro was concerned about him. “I’m just… just tired. But,” he straightened up, “I, I know that’s not an excuse and I’ll try harder and—”

“Lance,” Shiro’s hand tightened, “breathe for a second with me, all right? Close your eyes and just breathe.”

Next to him Shiro sucked in deep inhale and Lance copied him letting it out as Shiro did the same a few seconds later. 

Shiro did it again.

By the tenth repeat Lance could feel himself starting to slump a bit, his chest feeling less tight, his cheeks back to their normal tan. He could hear the gentle slap of the water as it hit the edges of the pool, the soft splashes of his teammates, and the muted chatter of students on the bleachers behind him and the dull clank as people moved up and down the metal stands.

“Open your eyes,” Shiro said quietly and Lance blinked them open, staring straight ahead at the pool before them where his teammates continued practice, but the realization wasn’t as shameful now as he felt so…

Calm. 

“We might be swimming races,” Shiro continued just as quietly, “but we’re not running them. And it’s important to slow down, to breathe, and listen to our bodies. What is yours telling you?”

“Um,” Lance licked his lips. “It… it feels… heavy?”

“I can’t imagine that’s a very good feeling when trying to swim, huh?”

Lance shook his head. “But…” he bit his lip but Shiro remained quiet, letting him finish. “But no one else is…” he cast his eyes down then, feeling the heat creeping back.

Everyone else in the pool had been at the same meet at him, endured the same travel delay and squashed airplane, and day of classes as him. 

He wasn’t special. He shouldn't need special treatment.

“Everyone is different, Lance,” Shiro said gently. “And I know from your schedule you have a full day of classes on Mondays, right?” Lance nodded. “And you went to all of them?” Lance nodded again. “And you ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”

Lance flushed.

“Just, just lunch,” he whispered. “I missed breakfast and had…” Shane’s wide grin flashed in his mind, “had tutoring before practice,” he finished with, shoving the senior’s memory away, “so I didn’t have time to eat. I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

He knew he’d been stupid.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Shiro squeezed his shoulder. “But you do need to listen to your body and take care of it. I know you know this, and I know how exhaustion can affect our bodies and our minds. Which is why I want you to go hit the showers, get dressed, go eat something hot and filling in the cafeteria and then to your dorm and in bed by nine.”

Lance’s head snapped up, shame and horror warring in equal measure at the dismissal.

“Lance,” Shiro held up his other hand, “you’re not in trouble, buddy. Think of this as a different kind of practice, okay? I want you to focus on yourself,” his hand squeezed Lance’s shoulder one more time before he lifted it away, “and take care of yourself. You’re a fantastic swimmer, Lance, one of the best I’ve seen,” and Lance felt his cheeks darken for a different reason at the high praise, “and I don’t want to see you burn yourself out. Get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you at practice tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lance whispered after a moment. 

He still felt like a failure.

“One more thing,” Shiro said. “Try something for me. Consider it an assignment. Before you go to bed I want you to do ten minutes of meditation. Deep breathing exercises, listen to a sound machine or a relaxation recording, anything that helps bring you into a calm state. Think you can try that?”

Lance nodded. 

It still wasn’t swim practice, but…

But it wasn’t nothing either.

“Good. Now look at me.”

Lance forced himself to meet Shiro’s soft charcoal eyes. “You’re doing great, Lance,” Shiro smiled at him. “Don’t forget that.” 

Lance promised himself he’d try not to.

xxx

Lance and Hunk’s dorm room door was wide open as Lance trudged into the hall, bookbag he hadn’t had time to drop off earlier hanging like an anvil off his shoulder and not helped by the fact his stomach was full from his late dinner and making him feel even slower and heavier.

He tried not to wince as the only reason the door would be open was if they had company over and right now, despite how much he normally loved seeing friends, he just wanted to crawl into his bed and not have to worry about appearing antisocial or grumpy.

Like their friend Keith.

And, Lance breathed out a small sigh of relief, speaking of Keith, that was who Hunk’s visitor seemed to be as he heard a soft query uttered by said fellow freshman and if there was anyone who wouldn’t be offended with a less than enthusiastic greeting it would be the mullet.

Keith was in the same track Lance was and they’d met in their shared required class of astronomy (hard to go to space without understanding where exactly they were going) and Lance couldn’t say it had been entirely smooth sailing from the start as Keith had easily answered the question Lance had missed and he’d been both embarrassed and fired up to beat him even if Keith hadn’t seemed to understand what a (friendly) rivalry was, but Keith had become a good friend even if the other boy had the social aptitude of a porcupine and could be just as prickly. But he and Hunk had hit it off — Keith apparently secretly enjoyed cooking and Hunk was always looking for someone to share his other passion besides engineering with — and surprisingly he and Pidge had not only gotten along but actually knew each other — something about their older brothers being best friends, which is when Lance had learned Keith’s brother was Shiro and that had been a surprise he hadn’t seen coming and apparently Pidge’s older brother had helped set Shiro up with his fiancé Adam  — and they had a little quartet that Lance wouldn't change for the world.

Pidge didn’t hang out as much at their dorm as hers was across campus and she hated the smell of all the cologne — “ how the fuck do you breathe here?” she’d asked around sneezing and saying it was affecting her allergies and while Lance and Hunk’s room was far less cloying she still hated venturing on their floor — guys only floor, but Keith was one floor beneath his and Hunk’s room so they tended to hang out in the evenings, even if it was just watching TV in the background as they all worked on their homework. 

But…

Lance winced.

They both knew when swim practice ended and when Lance would normally arrive back in the dorms and he was an hour early even accounting for the fact he’d made himself eat his dinner slowly, and so they would both know something was wrong.

Hiding in the hallway wouldn’t make him less tired though and ultimately was not the reason Shiro had dismissed him early, so Lance made himself continue forward and into the room where a quick glance showed Hunk sitting on his bed leaning against the wall laptop propped on his knees and Keith flopped on his stomach over one of the beanbag chairs with a textbook open in front of him.

Both immediately looked up at his entrance, Keith’s expression a slight frown of confusion while Hunk’s went from cheerful to a crease of concern as he looked to the clock on his nightstand that showed it was barely seven-thirty.

“Shiro sent me back early,” Lance said before either could ask, dropping his bookbag on his bed, aching shoulder thanking him, hoping the words didn’t come out too tinged with the still disappointment and frustration he couldn’t help but feel, although based on Hunk’s sympathetic murmur he hadn’t been wholly successful. “Told me I needed to rest.”

“Shiro knows best,” Keith said, perhaps bluntly but there was no judgment and if anyone knew how Shiro’s mind worked it was Keith and Lance appreciated that anything he told Keith he didn’t, to his knowledge, repeat to Shiro and vice-versa. “And you did have a long weekend,” he softened the blow slightly. “Rest is a good idea.”

Lance gave a short nod as he sank down onto his bed next to his bag, shoulders hunched.

Keith wasn’t wrong, Shiro wasn’t wrong, but that still didn’t make it entirely better. He should be better. What if today wasn’t a one-off? What if it became a new pattern? What then? He’d be sidelined, maybe kicked off the team, and then he’d lose his scholarship and he couldn’t afford to go to GGU without it and—

“Lance,” Hunk’s heavy weight settled onto his bed with him and a large, warm arm wrapped around his shoulders to pull Lance flush to his side, “I can see you overthinking, hermano,” Hunk chided chided gently. “Don’t do that. Everything is okay other than the fact you are really, really tired and need to rest.”

“That’s what Shiro said,” Lance mumbled, sinking into the side embrace.

“Then Shiro is very wise,” Hunk squeezed him. “And you should listen to him. What did he tell you to do after you left practice?”

“Eat, rest, mediate, in bed by nine. Already ate,” he added. “But,” he straightened up slightly, “I still haven’t finished the passage for my Spanish lit class tomorrow and I have so much pre-lab stuff for bio and—”

“It’ll be there in the morning,” Keith interrupted. “You’ve got the morning off, right?”

“Well yeah, but—”

“So do it then before Hunk leaves for class,” Keith said. “And if you still have lit stuff after astronomy tomorrow morning we’ll go the lounge and you can work on it then.”

An invitation to be there with him as Lance always focused best when he had company as otherwise he found himself distracted — and he’d tried all kinds of things to help with little success and contrary to logic a quiet room devoid of distractions made it worse as Lance’s family had always been so loud and in each other’s space and the quiet made him both uneasy and unfocused — and his friends always steered him back on course if he needed it. 

“Thanks, Keith,” he murmured.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then for class,” Keith said as he sat up and began packing up his own book as he never overstayed the moment Lance or Hunk expressed any interest in winding down with an efficiency that always made Lance inwardly frown as that was not a normal teenager response, “and we’ll talk after that. And,” he stood up, book and notebook in his arms, “don’t sweat anything Shiro said to you. He’s taken a liking to you,” and Lance’s eyes widened slightly at the insight, “and he wants what’s best for you. Get some rest,” he smiled softly. “Good night, guys.”

“Night, Keith,” Hunk smiled back. “Dinner tomorrow?”

Keith lifted a hand in answer — he typically did dinner with them on Tuesdays but sometimes skipped if he was meeting with Shiro as swim practice didn’t start till seven on Tuesdays — and was gone a moment later, pulling their door shut behind him with a soft click. 

“Come on,” Hunk gave Lance another squeeze before he pulled himself to his feet with a low groan. “Let’s get ready for bed and then maybe watch some Food Network? I think there’s a new episode of Triple G.”

Lance perked up at that as while he didn’t always follow all of the cooking techniques Hunk loved to watch he loved the competition elements and the wacky games some of the shows had.

“And then we’ll both try out mediation?” Hunk said as Lance pulled himself to his feet. “I can download some guided ones if you want to try that? Or we could put the sound machine on thunderstorm and I can look up some breathing pattern exercises?”

Lance didn’t answer.

Instead he took a step and wrapped his arms tight around Hunk’s middle, forehead pressed to the large shoulder. “Gracias, hermano,” he whispered. Hunk always knew what he needed and did it so selflessly and kindly and Lance did not know what he did to deserve Hunk, his best friend, his brother in all but blood, but Dios, he was not sure he would be here without him.

Everyone had been worried that Hunk would have the most trouble adjusting to university life given that he didn’t tend to do well in new places and got scared easily, but it had been Lance and his literal homesickness that had been the biggest obstacle to start college and he knew if Hunk hadn’t come with him to GGU he probably wouldn’t be here any longer, dream or no dream to swim in the galaxy’s sea of stars. 

And after everything that had happened today, Hunk’s little gestures somehow meant even more and now his eyes were feeling hot and Lance bit his lip to hold in the the breathy sob.

“Oh, Lance,” Hunk returned the hug tightly. “I’ve got you, hermano. I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”

And here in Hunk’s arms everything was.

Chapter Text

Professor Ryner’s words sounded like static.

Lance strained to listen, to focus, to make sense of the lesson, all well aware of where Shane was located — all the way across the room, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall and listened to the lecture and most importantly not looking at Lance — and further distracting him.

Lance had had an excellent Tuesday — classes and homework and seeing his friends for dinner and then praise from Coach Blaytz at practice — and he felt well rested waking up then and waking up today and ready to face the day.

Until he’d ground to a halt as Shane had waved at him from down below as Lance entered the auditorium lecture room and while the gesture had been nothing but friendly…

It still made Lance uncomfortable.

Prior to Monday the most interaction he’d ever had with Shane was a couple ‘thank yous’ as Shane handed back graded worksheets and tests to the room at large, one time a ‘nice job,’ as Lance’s quiz had been an ‘A’ and he’d heard Shane say the same iteration to many other students before, and when Shane had first introduced himself on day one of class and gone over his role as a senior student TA. 

That had been it.

And Lance was far from the only student who had ever needed help in the tutoring room from him and maybe he was the only one who had ever fallen asleep in class and so he was a bit more memorable than most but…

But why was Shane being so friendly now? Other than both being in this calculus class — and in various capacities — they really didn’t have all that much in common and it’s not that Lance couldn’t be friendly with acquaintances, but…

But he couldn’t shake the way Shane had continued to call him ‘sleeping beauty’ — first time fine, okay, it was kind of funny, but over and over again? — and how he’d commented about his appearance and then the way he’d gotten so, so close not to mention offering to tutor Lance, a random student in a sea of hundreds, on his own time?

But Lance wasn’t rude and so he’d returned the wave and taken his normal seat on the aisle and told himself that just like he’d decided on Monday he was overthinking things and it was time to let it go and focus so he never had a reason to have to seek out Shane’s help again.

Unfortunately the last part was easier said than done as Lance would admit he preferred Shane’s method of teaching a hundred times more than Professor Ryner’s .

But he’d made it this far into the semester and he’d figure out how to do it again. He could ask Hunk to explain some things, maybe even Pidge if she was feeling patient, and he’d be fine.

His eyes flicked down to where Shane was continuing to watch the lecture and not him and he let out a soft breath.

Everything was going to be fine.

xxx

Everything was not fine.

Lance looked down at his graded quiz from last Friday that Shane had just handed to him the following Monday — and at least that interaction had been normal as had when Shane handed him the quiz to take and pass down the line on Friday with a ‘ here you go’ and Lance had said ‘thank you’ just as they always had exchanged before and that had been that — and the giant C at the top of the page in red ink.

A ‘C’ wasn’t the worst grade but it wasn’t the best.

And more than that…

Scanning it Lance could see that the majority of the problems he’d solved correctly had been from concepts from the lesson last Monday, or, more specifically, the ones Shane had tutored him on versus the ones he’d struggled to do on his own. Having that extra time and attention and walking him through the process — of which Hunk had really tried to do but his brain was just on a different level and what made intrinsic sense for Hunk didn’t for Lance and Hunk didn’t know how to explain it fully — had really helped.

Just…

Lance bit his lip.

If…

If he needed extra help he could try to go to the tutoring session in the public lounge today. He’d make sure to leave biology on time and that would give him a good forty-five minutes for help and Shane hadn’t done anything weird in the lounge with all the other students and so that would work. 

It had to work. 

Because, Lance’s eyes flicked back to the red C, his grades were beyond important. He needed to keep a B average across his courses or he could be put on academic probation and that meant he was off the swim team until he pulled his grades up, which he wouldn’t have the chance to do until the end of the next semester. And no matter how much Shiro may like him he had to follow the university’s rules and there was no way a freshman with only one semester on the team would be kept on for the next year.

And so….

Lance swallowed.

To tutoring he went. And, hopefully, that would be all it was.

xxx

Just like last week the math tutoring room was packed. 

Unlike last time Shane didn’t call out to Lance as he entered, although it might have been the fact his back was to the door and he was helping a student, but seeing the TA actually tutoring and not singling Lance out in any way had him letting out a small breath.

He could do this.

It would be fine.

And he plunged into the room and angled for the set of tables that seemed to be reserved for Professor Ryner students, pausing though as he realized not a single chair was open this time. As if hearing his thoughts one student stood up and vacated a spot and Lance beelined towards it with another silent breath of relief.

He pulled out his book and notebook and was just digging into his pouch to find a pencil with a good eraser when Shane called his name.

“Be with you in just a second,” Shane smiled at him from where he was crouched at the end of the table helping a student on the endcap. 

Lance returned the smile and nodded. 

See?

Everything was going to be fine.

And a moment later Shane was headed his way and…

And pressed up to Lance’s chair, leaning over with his chest practically atop Lance’s shoulder, left hand landing on Lance’s upper arm and hot breath ghosting across his ear with a, “What can I help you with?”

Lance tried to shove the shiver making its way down his spine at the proximity, at the way Shane seemed to be leaning further into him as he looked at Lance’s open book, and told him it was fine, it was because the room was packed and Shane was trying to see and it was fine.

He wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

“Um, this,” Lance pointed to one of the sections Professor Ryner had gone over that morning. “I don’t really understand how these two steps,” he tapped his pencil on the page, “go to the next one.”

“Ah, okay,” Shane leaned further over, his right hand skimming Lance’s arm as he went to point at the book and Lance fought every instinct to pull away as it was nothing, it was nothing, “let me pull your attention to right here. See how this equation is set up? That means…”

And it frustrated Lance at how much sense Shane’s explanation made because why couldn’t he have seen that before? 

“Let’s have you try…” Shane was flipping pages in Lance’s book to the workbook section in the back, “this one,” he pointed at it. “Apply that principle and see what you come up with. I’ll swing back in a few minutes to check.”

Lance felt his body immediately untense the moment Shane stepped away to help another student — of who, despite being similar to Lance’s position at the table Shane did not hover over and Lance’s stomach clenched at that and what did that mean? — and made himself look at the problem.

This is what he was here to do.

This is what he needed to focus on.

And, and the better he got at understanding the less he’d need Shane’s help and that meant the less of Shane and his uncomfortable touches he’d need to endure. 

And go.

By the time Shane had circled back around Lance had finished the problem and a glance at the answer key on the next page told him he was right and that had sent a small thrill through him as he’d actually solved it himself.

“Hey, nice job,” Shane complimented, squeezing his shoulder. “Let’s try the next one too.”

And Shane moved on just like that to let Lance solve it on his own without hovering.

Lance’s lips pulled into a smile.

He could do this.

He had this.

And he went back to work.

xxx

It was starting to make more sense.

Lance closed his book up on Friday with a rare smile after his morning calculus class as while some parts of Professor Ryner’s lecture had been confusing he’d understood most of it and he was hopeful if he went back and re-read his notes and the book passages it would all click.

He was actually starting to feel okay about passing this class again.

And if he continued like this…

He’d never have to have tutoring with Shane again. He’d never have to puzzle out or wonder why exactly Shane treated him differently than the other students, why he’d been singled out, and they could just go back to student and TA with cordial greetings and nods.

And that was something to smile about indeed.

xxx

“Excellent job, Lance,” Shiro clapped awkwardly around the clipboard he was holding, “that was a new personal best!”

Lance grinned up at Shiro, chest heaving in the water from finishing a 300m front crawl, practically glowing at his success. 

His speed had won him second in the tournament two weekends ago and with a time like that…

He was in contention for first. 

“Hey, hey, don’t inflate his ego like that, Shiro,” Josh Hutcherson, a senior who specialized in butterfly and was on the relay team with Lance, leaned over on his lane divider. “His head’ll swell too much and then he’ll be too slow.”

Lance stuck his tongue out at Josh who just grinned back at him while Shiro let out a snort.

“Hey, Ryan,” Josh called out to Lance’s fellow freshman member Ryan Kinkade who was just surfacing in his lane two over. “You think Esposito’s head will swell if his ego gets too big, yeah?”

Ryan slow-blinked at them, face as stoic and serious as always and Lance could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Ryan actually smile, but all that said he had never been anything but kind if very reserved and quiet.

“Such a thing is impossible,” he said, voice deep and solemn. “But,” and his lips quirked up the barest bit, “if it was, then we would have great cause to worry over Lance.”

“Guys, that’s mean,” Lance pouted. 

“But is it true?” Josh teased and in answer Lance sent a splash at Josh who yelped and sent one back and then Ryan kicked out a stream and Shiro shouted as the wave hit him on the sidelines and a moment later it was an all out water brawl as the other swimmers ran over to kick and splash and playfully dunk one another in the pool.

Lance reveled in it.

It reminded him of his siblings, of faint but fond memories of playing on the beach in Cuba, and how everyone was laughing and smiling and having fun.

“Okay you hooligans, break it up,” Coach Blaytz’s voice boomed over the water and Lance thought that was about to be the end of it…

Only to see Shiro giving the coach a push from behind and sending him fully clothed into the pool with a yell and a splash before he jumped in with a loud whoop after him and the frenzy began anew.

It was the perfect way to wrap up the week.

Lance splashed his way free of the dunking, tossing his head back and wet bangs — swim cap long lost to the pool — striking his face as he laughed, looking past his reveling teammates and at the bleachers.

And a very familiar, golden blond shaggy head attached to a muscular body.

Lance blinked water out of his eyes.

Shane remained.

He was with two other boys but while they were clearly working on something on a laptop together, Shane wasn’t.

He was staring.

Staring at Lance. 

And all of a sudden, despite the fact Lance walked around a good chunk of the time half-naked in his swim shorts, he felt incredibly and awfully exposed.

A wayward wave of water sent him sputtering and when he re-surfaced Shane was talking to his friends now and not looking at him, but…

But he had been.

He was here, at the pool, a place Lance practically called a second home, where he’d always felt safe.

And right now…

He shivered despite the humidity of the room.

He didn’t feel safe.

Chapter Text

“You’re being strangely quiet,” Pidge looked sideways at him as the race round came to an end, Pidge taking first and Lance coming in third behind one of the computer players, brow furrowed.

Lance knew he was.

Normally he’d be challenging Pidge for a rematch and, as she called it, ‘baby trash talking her’ as Lance didn’t swear and so his egging on tended to be the very G-rated version, but he was sort of just sitting there, controller in his hand and staring as the racers made victory laps on the screen, just as he sort of had the last few hours as the Sunday evening came to a close.

Because that meant it was closer to his eight a.m. calculus class and therefore in less than 12 hours Lance would be seeing him. 

His skin was still prickling from the pool on Friday.

He wanted to say that Shane was like any other student who’d come to watch the practices and enjoy the humidity and warmth of the pool house, but…

But he wasn’t.

He wasn’t at all.

“Hey,” Pidge nudged him and Lance faintly realized he hadn’t answered her, “You getting sick?”

“Sick?” Hunk sat up from where he was lounging on his bed and reading a cooking magazine. “Lance, you’re feeling sick?”

“No,” Lance shook his head, swatting away Pidge’s hand as she both comically and seriously tried to feel his forehead. “Just…” he didn’t know how to describe it. “Tired,” he settled on. “And not looking forward to calculus.”

For so many more reasons than the obvious.

“Eight a.m.’s should be banned,” Pidge agreed. “Only freaky morning people like Keith and you, Hunk, no offense—” 

“I am slightly offended,” Hunk deadpanned.

“—benefit from those classes. Where are the two a.m.s for us night owls, huh? Or the flexible schedule for people who spend far too much time playing in giant bathtubs?”

“It’s called online classes,” Hunk said, “and we do not have those given that we chose to go to in-person classes.”

“Fuck that,” Pidge groaned, flopping backwards. “And fuck eight a.m.’s.”

“Unfortunately that doesn’t make them go away,” Lance pointed out, earning a resigned huff. “Next semester though I’m definitely going to avoid them. At least on Mondays.”

“Amen to that,” Pidge muttered.

Lance’s lips pulled into a ghost of a smile. 

He just…

Needed to stop overthinking. If he ignored the situation it would go away and Shane would realize Lance wasn’t interested in any way and everything would go back to normal. He just needed one week where nothing weird happened, where he didn’t need to go into tutoring, and everything would go back to the way it was.

And to start that off on the right foot…

“Okay, gremlin,” Lance turned to the small girl, challenge on his lips, “you ready to get your butt kicked?”

“I think you’ve been staring at mirrors too long, pretty boy,” Pidge grinned back, sitting up and cinnamon eyes flashing, “as clearly you’re directing that question at yourself.”

And the race and Lance’s plan to put smirking hazel eyes and golden hair behind him began.

xxx

The two-week Friday quiz stared up at Lance.

Lance stared down at it, stomach clenching and hand starting to shake as the numbers and graphs swam beneath blurred eyes.

He’d been doing well on the front page, last week’s classes, and he’d started off the top of the second page all right, but as he neared the end and this week’s lessons began to take over he could feel his confidence and knowledge fading.

This week had been hard. 

Not all of it was necessarily related to calculus, but he’d had that really big lab project in biology and he’d had a test yesterday in his astronomy course — that he felt pretty good about but he’d spent so much time studying for it — and today his English class had an in-class essay over the book they’d been reading so he’d been trying to take notes and prepare for that too, and between classwork and swimming practice five days a week — he hadn’t at least seen Shane again there but he also had purposefully been trying not to look into the bleachers as he didn’t know what he’d do if he did spot the senior there —  leading into a meet tomorrow — at least driving distance down in Tucson from where Garrison City was just outside Phoenix and an hour and a half away — of which they had to leave at five a.m. to make it in time and allow for warm-ups, he was just exhausted.

It was the same excuse as last time though and it would not help him. 

He just…

Needed to focus, to concentrate, to will the questions and numbers and graphs to make sense.

He could do this.

He wasn’t stupid.

He repeated it to himself.

He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t a genius but he wasn’t stupid and he could do this.

His hand clenched around his pencil.

And dark ocean eyes reread the question again.

xxx

C-

The quiz fluttered as Lance’s hands shook as he stared at the red inked grade.

It still wasn’t failing, but…

But it was getting close. Core classes required C’s or better to count or he’d have to re-take it and he didn’t have time to re-take it or he’d fall behind in his other classes that required this one first. That, and if he did get a D in calculus he’d need at least to get at minimum 2 A’s if his other two classes were B’s and Lance knew that he was only getting an A in his Spanish literature course and that still wouldn’t solve the re-take problem (even if it would let him keep him from academic probation).

But Dios. 

If he wanted to keep up and not fall behind — and he had so, so many years left of school after this still and it’s not like he’d be here on swim scholarship for graduate school so he’d have to figure something out then — then he needed to at least get a C in calculus, preferably a B as he’d been trending prior to the last few weeks.

But…

His hand trembled.

He didn’t want to go to Shane. 

If he hadn’t seen him at the pool two weeks ago he’d have been okay. He’d have gone to the tutoring on Monday and tried to get as much out of it as he could and struggle along with that and hope it would be enough to fill in the holes.

But his stare… 

Even all the way across the pool and the bleachers Lance had felt it, had felt the heat of his gaze, and he’d felt extremely uncomfortable.

He did not want to, under any circumstance, be in a position where Shane had any type of power over him and, unfortunately, by its nature a tutor and student had a clear power difference. Maybe, if he had to, really had to, he could go to the tutor room again where Shane hadn’t really done anything, not really. 

But still.

“—if you had a C- or lower on your quiz,” Professor Ryner’s voice cut into his thoughts as she always ended her lecture after the quizzes were handed out if she did it at the end of the class rather than the beginning, and Lance startled as that applied to him although the fact a few other students around him shifted too indicating he wasn’t the only one struggling, “please see me now before class ends to arrange a one-on-one tutoring session with our classroom TA so we might address—”

Lance froze.

What?

What? 

One-on-one?

With Shane? 

Oh no.

No no no no no.

He remained seated as other students began to trickle down to the lower floor, expressions a mixture of resigned or frustrated or some looking apathetic and some relieved, but none of them looked scared or apprehensive. 

Lance debated somehow pretending he’d missed the directive, maybe if he covered up the minus sign it was just a C and there was no issue.

But if Professor Ryner then discovered he hadn’t signed up that could be a mark against him and Lance did need the help but it was one-on-one with Shane and what did he do?

Small steps, he told himself as he stood up.

Go down, see what Professor Ryner had in mind.

And, as he found out, it wasn’t so bad. The one-on-ones were taking place in her office — where her TA for the semester had a work station — and they were only a half hour long each — although admittedly, that would be a lot of work for Shane as there were an easy thirty of them needing appointments and he was starting to look a little panicked at the sheer flock of people coming down.

But Professor Ryner would be right there and there was no way Shane would do anything.

And with that in mind Lance signed up for a spot next Wednesday at three-thirty p.m., which should give him a time after to grab a light snack and drop his bag off at the dorm room so he didn’t have to lug it to swim practice at six, and more importantly it was not only smack in the middle of other appointments but there was one already signed up for immediately following Lance’s slot so Shane couldn’t keep him any later.

See?

There was him not overthinking on it.

And he wasn’t going to worry about it either. 

Lance shoved the quiz into his folder and closed it up, putting it in his bag just as the bell rang to end the class.

It was Friday. He had two classes left and practice and then he had the whole weekend off with no meet — a rarity — and Hunk had suggested they go into Garrison City for the day on Saturday to check out the sights and they’d roped Keith in — Pidge had bowed out as she was heading home for the weekend as her brother was back in town and apparently it was rare as he worked for the CIA and it was all very hush-hush — and it was going to be great. Lance hadn’t really had a night off let alone a weekend in the last two months and it was a break he knew he needed and Keith, their anti-social mullet, had even expressed interest and if that wasn’t neon lights and spotlights that they all needed some R&R Lance didn’t know what was.

And with a whistle and a grin that he hadn’t thought he’d be making following Professor Ryner’s announcement, Lance made his way to his next class.

xxx

“Keith, Keith, look!” Lance bounced on his feet, eyes lightning up. “A wishing fountain!”

“What’s the big deal about a—?” Keith broke off with a yelp as Lance latched a hand around Keith’s wrist and dragged him forward to the decorative fountain in the middle of the cobblestone courtyard in a surprisingly quaint area of the very modern style city. 

He’d been having a blast on his day out — renting rollerblades and going up and down the boardwalk that overlooked the large lake, shopping in the bustling downtown, lunch at a stone-oven pizza place that made personal pizzas, a visit to the NASA space museum (in which Lance was delighted to find was free to GGU students with an ID), and now they’d made it to this park set away from the traffic and noise.

Hunk had paused to consult an ice cream cart’s options while Lance and Keith had gone ahead on the path to see if they could find an empty bench to claim, when Lance had spotted the fountain.

“What do you mean, what’s the big deal?” Lance put his hands on his hips and sent Keith an affronted look. “It’s a wishing fountain, Keith. You can get your wishes granted!”

Keith gave him a deadpan look. 

“Oh come on, even you have to believe in the power of wishes.”

“I believe there’s a lot of fucked up shit in the world and the only way to do something about it is action; whether on your end or on someone else’s who has the power to make change,” Keith replied. “Wishing,” his eyes looked over to the fountain, something unreadable in them, and  “doesn’t do anything.”

Oh.

That…

Lance looked at Keith, still looking at the fountain, his hands curled into trembling fists at his sides, and felt something in his chest twist because that…

That was not what he had been expecting. Because it told him once upon a time Keith had hoped, had wished for something super important, something life-changing, and it… it hadn’t happened.

Something else had instead.

“Well, hey,” he gave Keith a gentle nudge. “Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t, but look,” he nodded his head at the sign, “all of the money in the fountain goes to the children’s hospital. So worst case you’re helping out a kid, yeah?”

Keith’s expression softened.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“So on that note, let’s make a wish,” Lance said, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

His expression fell a moment later.

He didn’t have any change. 

A quarter swam into his view courtesy of Keith and Lance took it with a happy chirp and while the other boy rolled his eyes there was a small smile on his face.

“Okay, make it a good wish,” Lance said, stepping away from Keith to give him a little space, circling around to the other side of the fountain to figure out his own.

His nose wrinkled as he realized he should probably wish for good grades. But no, he shook his head. Keith was right in that action was what made wishes come true and wishing for good grades wouldn’t change them.

But…

Maybe he could help them along?

“I wish that all of my finals — especially my calculus and biology finals — are questions I know and aren’t too hard,” Lance silently wished and he flipped the coin into the fountain, watching it sink into the depths to join its glittering fellow coins. He knew it was unlikely as both exams were cumulative, but a little extra good will couldn’t hurt.

He looked up from his coin at the sound of a child’s shriek of laughter nearby—

And locked eyes with a pair of piercing hazel directly across the way.

Lance’s breath caught as he stared at Shane, wearing a dark baseball cap that hid his bright hair, through the curtain of water.

No way.

Absolutely no way.

One of the rotating jets went off, shooting up a spray, and as it fell away the space across from the fountain was empty.

Lance remained where he was, heart hammering.

There was no way he’d imagined Shane. 

Absolutely no way.

But there was zero logical reason, no possible way, he could have been at his exact fountain at this exact same time and in the million to one odds he was then he’d have waved, have done something, rather than just disappear.

And so the only logical explanation was that…

That he’d followed Lance. 

He’d been following him around Garrison City all day. 

Like, a shiver ran down Lance’s spine, like a stalke—

A hand touched Lance’s elbow and he whirled around with a gasp, flinging his hands out—

And smashing it right into Hunk’s outstretched one with an ice cream cone.

It hit the ground with a wet sounding plop and Hunk’s cry of dismay that Lance barely heard over the roaring of his pulse as he stared at Hunk who was Hunk and definitely not Shane.

Shane, who had followed him to the city.

He felt faint. 

He swayed slightly.

And then Hunk was there, all of the ice cream cones on the ground as solid, safe, hands landed on Lance’s shoulders steadying him and just like that all sound came rushing back — the fountain, children, bird call and Hunk’s worried, urgent call of his name.

“S-sorry,” Lance gasped out, eyes darting past Hunk and around the fountain but the only people there was an older woman with a cane and now Keith coming around it with concern clear and no doubt having heard Hunk. “Sorry,” he repeated, trying to make his voice more even, gaze going now to the ruined ice creams and feeling his cheeks heat at the fact he’d been the cause of that waste.

“You okay?” Hunk asked, warm honey eyes searching with worry and Lance found it hard to meet them.

He forced out a nod. “Yeah. You just… just startled me.”

Because what was he supposed to say? He thought his TA was stalking him? 

It sounded crazy.

It was crazy.

He had to have imagined Shane, just mistook some other person through the shimmer of the water.

There was no way.

None.

“Lance, you’re shaking,” Keith said quietly and Lance’s hands curled into immediate fists at his sides as though that could stop it.

“Sorry,” Lance apologized again, not sure what else to say.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Hunk wrapped an arm about Lance’s shoulders and guided him over to a bench by the fountain. “And maybe get you some water? It is pretty hot out here…”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, even though he didn’t feel dehydrated at all and he was more than used to the hot Arizona sun. 

“Sorry about the ice cream,” Lance whispered, looking at the three cones all steadily melting in the heat.

“It’s okay,” Hunk squeezed his shoulder while Keith dug a water bottle out of the bag Hunk had brought with — snacks and water bottles were a must for any trip he’d said — and Lance instinctually took it and while the water was warm he made himself take a large sip.

His hands were indeed still shaking.

“Are you okay though?” Hunk continued.

Lance nodded. 

Even if no, he wasn’t.

Either his TA was stalking him or Lance was seeing things and both were bad.

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice was layered with warning as if there was anyone who could see through Lance it would be Hunk. 

“I’m fine,” Lance said, mustering up a smile because this was not for Hunk to worry about when there was absolutely nothing wrong, “really. I just… I guess I was lost in thought and you sort of came out of nowhere and it startled me. I’m fine though, I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Keith asked, his eyes more narrowed, more calculating, than Hunk’s. 

Lance nodded.

“Yeah.” He brought a hand to the back of his head. “Sorry for freaking you guys out.”

Keith didn’t seem entirely convinced and based on Hunk’s soft hum he wasn’t either, but there really wasn’t much else to ask as what else could it be other than Lance being startled? It’s not like they knew that his TA had an apparent interest in him and Lance had no desire to ever make that public knowledge.

He just wanted it to go away and the only way that would happen is if he ignored it rather than giving that fire any fuel. 

“All right then,” Hunk clambered to his feet, “let’s go get some more ice cream and then head back to the shuttle?” 

“Sounds great,” Lance smiled, also rising. “And my treat. Since you already bought them once.”

Even if he didn’t have a ton of extra pocket money, but it had been his mistake and he should pay for them.

“Uh uh,” Hunk shook his head. “My treat and no buts.  Now come on,” his hand clapped on Lance’s back, “they had a pineapple sorbet that I think you’ll love. And Keith, they had chocolate peanut butter with reese’s,” and Lance let out a soft laugh as Keith shot to his feet as deny it as he might Keith had a major sweet tooth and loved a chocolate and peanut butter combo.

They made their way back to the ice cream cart and Lance furtively looked once more around the fountain, but there was no sign of Shane.

He must have imagined it.

He nodded to himself.

He’d imagined it and he was not going to let some figment of his imagination ruin his awesome day. And so pasting on a large grin that he hoped would become more real once he tasted pineapple sorbet, he followed his friends out of the park.

Chapter Text

Lance took a deep breath as he stood outside Profesor Ryner’s closed office door.

Okay.

He could do this.

Professor Ryner would be right there and Shane wouldn’t do anything which made sense as Shane hadn’t done anything and there was nothing to be scared of because his TA was definitely not stalking him.

It was a point Lance had been trying to convince himself of all week even if…

Even if he kept seeing Shane pop up.

But the cafeteria was a public place and everyone went there for food so that couldn’t count when they’d run into each other at the salad bar and Shane had brushed up against him reaching for the tongs with a little smile and a “whoops, pardon me,” on Monday, or when he’d happened to be at a table two over from Lance’s on Tuesday during dinner.

Or when he’d definitely come to practice on both Monday and Tuesday — Monday with the same group of friends Lance had seen him with before but Tuesday all by himself and while he’d had a novel type book with him Lance hadn’t seen him looking at it once and Lance had been so distracted he’d run headlong into the wall and had to spend the last half hour being given concussion tests by Coach Blatyz to his absolute mortification (and at least he hadn’t ended up having one even if he’d had a headache that still lingered even now). 

Or when Lance had seen him walking around the campus or at the library or like last night sitting on the bench outside of Lance’s dorm room exit to where he’d gone the long way around to use the south entrance. 

They were all coincidences.

He was not being stalked. He wasn’t.

Because if he was…

Lance swallowed.

He didn’t know what to do. 

If he found the courage to call Shane on it what happened if he escalated? Or what if he denied it and then Lance looked like an idiot because he had imagined all of it? And if it did escalate…

His face flushed.

What was he supposed to do, report it to campus security? Report that he, a guy, was being stalked by his male TA? 

It was embarrassing. 

But it wasn’t going to come to that because he was blowing all of this out of proportion. 

And as if waiting for that moment the door to Professor Ryner’s office swung open and a student Lance vaguely recognized as sitting in the same section of him exited and that meant it was his time to go in.

Lance took one last breath and slipped in before the door closed, eyes flicking immediately to the large desk that had to be Professor Ryner’s.

And it was…

Empty?

His breath hitched.

Where was Professor Ryner?

He slowly, slowly, turned his head to where the room curved around to a corner space and there was Shane, sitting at a work table, and clearly waiting for Lance, his grin growing as their eyes met.

“Hello, Lance,” Shane greeted him, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Um,” Lance’s hand tightened on his book bag strap. “Where’s Professor Ryner?”

“Where she is every Wednesday from three to five as noted on her syllabus,” Shane answered, standing up from the desk, “at a staff meeting. Which means,” he took a step forward, “it’s just the two of us. Just,” his grin widened, “as you planned.”

As he planned…?

No.

No no no.

Lance hadn’t even realized the staff meeting schedule, he’d picked this time because it was supposed to be safe and…

And…

Lance swallowed as Shane took another step towards him, heart thundering in his ears and every instinct he had telling him to get out of there while his brain tried to logic Shane’s behavior and reminded him he was here for his grade at Professor Ryner’s request.

“Then, then we should get to work,” Lance said, voice slightly more breathless and high than he intended and Shane let out a light laugh in response that did nothing to set Lance’s racing heart at ease.

“Work?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. “And here I thought you had some other idea in mind.”

Lance gave a frantic shake of his head and that time his feet took him backwards a step as Shane continued to move closer and closer. “N-no,” he stuttered. “I, I just… the tutor sess—”

“Can’t you feel it?” Shane interrupted him, closing the distance between them rapidly no matter how much Lance stepped backwards and his breath hitched as his back hit the wall next to the door.

Shane kept coming closer, his hands spread at his sides but the gesture did nothing to reassure Lance as it only highlighted Shane’s physique and how Lance knew if it came down to it how easily Shane would be able to subdue him.

“Sh—”

“Can’t you feel it?” Shane repeated, eyes boring into Lance’s as he came to a stop, the toes of his shoes brushing Lance’s and there was nowhere for Lance to go. “This spark between us?”

Lance shook his head again.

No.

No spark.

No connection.

“No?” Shane frowned ever so slightly at him and Lance untensed the barest bit as Shane shifted on his feet and he was going to pull back—

He lunged.

Both of his hands slapped against the wall next to Lance’s head and all of his weight was braced above and his face now inches from Lance’s own.

Lance trembled as he both realized he was trapped and that this…

This did not have any logical explanation other than…

“Then I’ll just have to show you,” Shane’s breath was hot on his face. “Like this.”

And he leaned forward, lowering his head and Lance faintly realized that Shane…

Shane was about to kiss him.

He wrenched his head sideways in the space between Shane’s hands, the older boy’s lips landing on his cheek, before he thrust his hands out — just like he was doing a turnaround at the pool — and hit them with all the strength he had into Shane’s chest.

Whether it was surprise, the force, Shane’s position or a bit of all three, Shane actually stumbled backwards.

“N-no,” Lance didn’t even recognize his own voice as his hand fumbled behind him for the doorknob that he knew was just a few inches away and go, he had to go, he had to go now. “No,” he repeated. “I’m, I’m not interested.”

“We’re soulmates, Lance,” Shane said in answer, even as he didn’t pursue, one hand pressed to his chest where Lance had shoved him. “We’re meant for each other.”

Lance gave another shake of his head.

“No,” his hand found the door knob and gracias a Dios it was a push rather than a pull as the door swung out into the hallway, and he followed it. “We’re not.”

And Lance fled.

Shane did not pursue.

There were no pounding footsteps that followed Lance down the hall, or the staircase, and still none as he hit the vestibule and crashed into front doors, practically stumbling out of the building into the hot Arizona late October sunshine.

His legs were starting to shake but Lance knew he needed to keep moving.

His feet carried him across the campus quad to a scattering of patio tables that the cafeteria exited onto where there were plenty of students around for safety but none really giving him a second glance as he all but collapsed into one of the wrought-iron chairs.

What had…

Dios, what had just…?

Shane had tried to…

To kiss him. 

Even after Lance had told him no.

That…

That was…

A trembling hand came up to cover his mouth, to hold in the gasping sort of noise that was almost a sob as Lance continued to shake at how close he had been to…

To…

He’d been so scared. 

If, if pushing Shane back hadn’t worked, then…

D-Dios. 

And he now had his answer. Whether he’d imagined Shane or not at the park in the city, his TA was most definitely following him around campus and most definitely wanted to… Lance’s cheeks flushed. Wanted to kiss him because he thought they were… were soulmates?

What had Lance ever done to give him that impression?

What had Lance ever done to make Shane think he was interested in him?

And now…

What did he do?

Lance shuddered out a breath, right hand curling into a fist atop his jeans.

What did he do?

It’s not like Shane had actually done anything. And, even if he had kissed him… the idea of telling someone that made him flush all over again. Would they dismiss him because he was a guy too? Or would they make an assumption about him? Would, would they laugh at him, tell him he was exaggerating or not believe him? 

And even if they did take him seriously what happened then? They launched an investigation and if it in any way got out, if anyone else found out…

Lance would be mortified. 

Even, even if he told Hunk — who would never laugh, never, and would believe Lance one hundred percent — that would only worry Hunk who would want Lance to go talk to campus security and when Lance refused it would just upset Hunk and he couldn’t ask him to keep that to himself. And if he told Keith or even Pidge… they’d probably tell him the same thing and while Lance knew that was probably the smart thing to do, he just…

He couldn’t. 

He didn’t want anyone to know. 

And, and maybe it was over now. He’d most definitely rejected Shane that time and he’d made his position clear and so Shane would stop now.

Right?

Lance’s nails cut into his palm as he…

He didn’t know if that was correct. 

Shane thought they were soulmates. 

Would he let it go so easily?

He had to.

Dios, he had to. 

Because otherwise…

Lance didn’t know what to do.

Chapter Text

Lance still didn’t entirely know what to do about Shane but he did know one thing.

He was never going to give Shane any type of access to him again.

So, despite it not being considered the norm, Lance had changed seats starting Friday in his calculus class, moving down to the fifth row closest to the bottom, plopped himself in the middle of the row with students on each side so there was always a buffer of people between himself and the aisle where Shane walked, and sat directly in front of Professor Ryner’s podium. 

If anyone asked, he was trying to focus more on the lecture and thought being closer would help and it wasn’t a complete lie as Lance really did need to try to understand the lesson in full as he was never going to tutoring again and so he had to figure this out on his own.

He’d already run the numbers and decided that so long as he could pull off a C in calculus and then get at least two A’s in other classes and no less than a B in any other he’d be okay. It wouldn’t be the best score heading into second semester without much buffer, but it was enough and right now enough was all he needed.

Anything to make sure he never had to interact with Shane again.

Although…

He swallowed.

He thought Shane might still be following him.

No.

He knew Shane was still following him.

He hadn’t been at swim practice all last week, but given the schedule Lance knew Professor Ryner had him under that wasn’t surprising, even though he’d tentatively held his breath that maybe… maybe Shane had actually gotten the message and backed off.

But then he’d been there on Monday and Tuesday and now Wednesday and Lance had seen him outside his dorm again twice more on the bench and in the cafeteria and outside of his English class on Monday and Lance was reminded then of the comment Shane had made at their first real meeting.

Shane knew Lance had another class right after calculus because he’d seen him dashing off.

He’d told him that same day that Lance had swim practice that evening when Lance hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort.

And that meant…

That meant Shane had been watching him for far longer than Lance had realized.

It made a shiver go down his spine.

And then he startled as a clipboard tapped him upon his head and Lance felt his cheeks heat at the fact he’d been apparently treading water for the last few minutes rather than swimming and Shiro had just caught him.

“Hey buddy,” Shiro smiled down at him but there was something else in his expression that pinched his eyebrows together. “Can we talk for a second?”

It was clear it was not a request.

Lance’s stomach churned.

He’d thought he’d been doing pretty good, all things considered, of not worrying anyone. He’d been a bit quieter than normal, but he’d convinced Hunk it was just that he was tired — they’d had another meet and that one had involved flying out to San Diego Friday evening although for the first time in a while Lance had felt completely safe as he knew there was no way Shane had followed him here and he’d actually slept on the plane that spanned the whole weekend — between swimming and his classes and he had legit been out of the room for an evening to work with Nadia on their project.

There was a small part of him that told him he should tell Hunk, that he shouldn’t keep this to himself, but he kept quiet as Hunk had a lot of his own heavy classwork going on and the robotics team he and Pidge were both on were having their big competition in a few weeks right after the Thanksgiving holiday and they needed to concentrate on that. He’d thought of telling Keith too, but couldn’t run the risk of Keith telling Shiro if he felt it was the right thing to do, and then that would escalate this even more.

Besides, it’s not like Shane was actually going to do anything because Lance would not give him that chance, so there was nothing to concern them over. 

Except apparently he’d caught Shiro’s attention.

Shiro was already turning, heading for the bleachers, and Lance’s eyes drifted upwards.

Hazel ones accompanied by a smirk stared down.

He shivered, not wanting to come out of the water that covered him from his shoulders down, and letting Shane’s gaze linger on any bit of his skin.

But if he didn’t come out then Shiro would know something was wrong and nothing was wrong.

Nothing that Lance couldn’t handle. 

He made himself get out of the water, picking up one of the small towels left alongside the ledge to dry his hands and face and then drape over the back of his neck before joining Shiro on the bleacher.

He could still feel Shane’s eyes.

And he startled again as Shiro put a hand on his shoulder and that time there was no hiding the man’s concern as he point blank asked, “What’s going on?”

“Going on?” Lance repeated, chest starting to feel tight. “N-nothing.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief before his expression softened.

“Lance, I’m here to help you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been really distracted, buddy.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance quickly apologized. “I—”

“I’m not looking for an apology,” Shiro gently interrupted him. “I’m looking for ways I can help you. What’s going on?” he asked again.

“Just,” Lance averted his eyes, staring down at his clasped hands atop his swim shorts, “just a lot of… of school stuff. Projects and tests and stuff.”

Shiro hummed. “I see,” he said after a moment.

He clearly didn’t believe him and Lance ducked his head further.

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice was heavier then, “look at me, buddy.”

Lance instead felt his eyes start to sting and he gave a small shake of his head. 

He couldn’t.

Shiro let out a soft sigh. “Coach Blaytz and I have been talking,” he said and at that Lance’s head snapped up and oh Dios no, Shiro could not be leading to where he feared he was, “and we think it's best for you to skip the meet this coming weekend. I know,” he held up his hand as Lance’s mouth moved soundlessly, cry of horror locked within, “I know,” he said again, softer. “But we both agreed that between these last few days and the near concussion you almost had the other week that you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I can do it,” Lance whispered, alarmed to feel a tear starting to drip down his cheek and please, please, they couldn’t do this, he couldn’t stop swimming, they couldn’t kick him off the team.

“I know,” Shiro murmured. “But just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Remember what we talked about last month? You need to listen to your body and right now it’s showing signs that it needs a break.”

Another tear dripped down Lance’s cheek. 

“This isn’t a punishment,” Shiro continued softly, “and I promise you, it’s not in any way affecting your place on the team or,” his eyes were full of knowing, “your scholarship. But Coach Blaytz and I want you to take the rest of this week and the weekend to rest. Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Lance choked out, as though an apology could somehow fix this.

“No, no,” Shiro’s arm tightened about his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.”

Lance knew that wasn’t true though.

He didn’t know how to tell Shiro that.

Another tear fell down his cheek, plopping onto his bare knee and running down with a water rivulet there. 

Swimming was the one thing he was really, truly, good at and now…

Now he didn’t even have that.

And he couldn't even say Shiro and Coach Blaytz were wrong. He was distracted and he knew it was showing in his performance and the last thing the university needed was for him to embarrass them by a poor score at the meet and the last thing he needed was to actually really hurt himself because he wasn’t paying full attention.

Just…

His entire body trembled as he let out a sob he couldn’t fully swallow back. 

“Oh, Lance,” and Shiro’s arm moved fully around his shoulders, pulling him into a side-hug that Lance slumped into, pressing his face to hide his tears and sobs into Shiro’s jacket. “I know it’s hard. I know it is. But you have to take care of yourself and Coach Blaytz and I will ensure you have that opportunity. It’s just for a few days, all right?”

Lance nodded.

He understood. It all made sense. Shiro had even assured him that this wouldn’t have any negative consequence. 

He just…

Unless he figured out what to do about Shane…

This was only the beginning.

And if it continued…

Then it could be the beginning of the end of his dreams. 

xxx

“Oh, hermano,” Hunk murmured as Lance brokenly finished telling him, eyes still red from crying, that he wouldn’t have practice tomorrow or Friday and wasn’t going to the meet on Saturday, pulling him into a hug. 

“Shiro is right though,” Hunk said, voice careful and soft, “you have been pushing yourself really hard lately. You,” his arms tightened around Lance, “haven’t been sleeping well. And, maybe… maybe this is a good thing. Temporarily. Just so you can rest a little bit.”

Lance sniffled.

He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Hunk he was wrong, how could he not take Lance’s side, but… but Hunk and Shiro and Coach Blaytz were all right.

Lance was wrong.

“I know,” he whispered. 

Hunk gave him a squeeze before stepping back. “You want to go get dinner?” he asked gently. “Just the two of us?”

Lance nodded.

He knew Pidge and Keith would find out eventually — likely via Hunk — but right now he didn’t want to have to tell anyone, have to admit that he couldn’t keep up.

That he just couldn’t seem to do anything right.

“Come on,” Hunk smiled. “Let’s go get dinner. I heard it’s lasagna tonight at the home-cook station!”

One of Lance’s favorites.

He pushed his lips into a watery smile at that.

He couldn’t do anything right anymore, but…

But he could still try.

He still had to try. 

And so he would.

Chapter Text

Lance had to admit, he was feeling a bit more rested following his break.

It had helped too as he’d barely left the dorm all weekend — just for dinner on Saturday and brunch on Sunday — and so he hadn’t had to worry about seeing a pair of heated hazel eyes following him around and to his relief he hadn’t seen Shane once in the two times he had ventured out.

He’d instead spent his time catching up on all of his homework — even reading ahead a bit in his Spanish literature course as Lance was actually enjoying the novel and wanted to see how it ended — and taking a couple naps in the bright sunlight streaming into the dorm room, watching television and having a board game night with a bunch of the guys in the dorm — Keith and his anti-social mullet dragged into it as well — room on Sunday night and Lance had felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.

But it was Monday now and Monday meant calculus and calculus meant Shane and while the TA had yet to approach him since Lance had changed seats he could feel his eyes on him throughout the lecture.

Lance grit his teeth and told himself to ignore it. 

Ignore him.

The only exception Lance had to that silent mantra…

Was the note he’d scribbled out that morning while Hunk had still been snoring that he’d sealed in an envelope and put in Shane’s mailbox — a wire basket at the TA table in the classroom — before class had started.

I’m not interested, he’d written. Stop following me or I’ll report you.

It was a mostly empty threat but Shane didn’t have to know that and if he thought Lance was going to get campus security involved then hopefully he’d stop. Unfortunately, and Lance had discreetly looked, stalking was a really hard charge to prove as it had to be proven beyond any reasonable doubt and what was there to stop Shane from saying everything was a coincidence? 

Nothing. 

It would be Lance’s word against Shane’s and while Lance knew his friends would believe him it wouldn’t be an easy thing to prove to the law and so it was unlikely to go very far. 

And so this, he hoped, would be it. 

Just like Keith had said at the wishing fountain, change took action.

Lance was taking action.

He’d had the clarity over the weekend without the extra stress of swim practices and the meet and being able to get out from underneath Shane’s gaze and in the safety and sanctity of his room.

He needed to do something.

So he had. 

And Dios, please let it be enough. 

xxx

It…

It seemed to have been enough.

It was Wednesday now and Shane hadn’t shown up to any of the three practices this week and outside of seeing him once in the cafeteria — and it had been Lance spotting Shane, the older boy’s back to him as he sat with a bunch of other seniors at a table — and then at calculus today he hadn’t seen him at all.

Lance hadn’t realized how heavy that weight had been until it was lifted.

He wasn’t back to making any personal bests, but without an unwanted audience he felt like he was flying through the water again.

Just the way he was meant to be.

“Looking good, Lance,” Shiro smiled at him where he was in the pool today, a lane over and helping coach Ryan on his corkscrews to give him better turnaround time at the wall, but still watching the other swimmers. 

Lance beamed back at him.

He felt good.

And it was showing.

It almost made it feel like the past month feel like some twisted nightmare that Lance had finally clawed his way out of and he was back on track.

Classes were for the most part going well — minus struggling still with calculus but Lance was confident at this point in his ability to get a C and he currently had an A in bio he hadn’t expected so he was doing better than he’d thought — and now swimming was again and everything was as it should be.

Lance flopped onto his back with a splash, smiling as the water closed over his head.

Yes.

Everything was finally right.

xxx

Lance exited the cafeteria with a full stomach — build your own pasta night and he’d eaten three heaping bowls of different types and sauces along with way too much garlic bread — and a content smile on his face as he strode out into the star-studded night.

He was actually all caught up on homework for his classes tomorrow and that meant he could actually take tonight off and watch some television with Hunk and maybe see if Keith wanted to come up and they could make popcorn and test out the new seasonings Hunk had been experimenting in making with his spice collection.

Maybe he’d even take a shower before all that as while he’d had one before he left the pool house it’s not like he really had the opportunity to enjoy it as he would one in the dorm room where there wasn’t a line for the private stalls, and really spend some time rinsing the chlorine out of his hair.

It was the perfect way to end a perfect day.

Lance took a deep breath of the night air — still pleasantly warm even though the sun was long gone — and made his way for his dorm with a hum and practically a skip in his step.

But too many weeks of being on high alert had not faded and just as Lance was walking past the science building that was before his dorm he felt it.

Eyes.

Someone was watching him.

Lance felt his pulse beginning to beat faster as he slowly turned his head to look at the path behind him, bracing himself for the possibility that maybe…

Maybe Shane wasn’t as gone as he’d hoped.

But no one was there.

The sidewalk behind him was empty save for the silhouettes of a couple students walking a few hundred yards away in the opposite direction.

Lance let out a breath.

And a large hand clapped over his mouth from his right.

Lance let out a muffled yell that only grew as an arm wrapped around his chest and he was lifted completely off the ground.

He flailed his legs up and back and was rewarded with a grunt and then his feet touched back down as he was lowered, only for his right cheek to smash into the rough brick of the science building and he was pinned there, hot breath panting against his neck and a chest pressing down against his back, arm still tight around and pinning his own down while the hand remained over his mouth.

Lance’s heart thundered.

It didn’t drown out Shane’s whisper against his ear.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Lance.” The arm tightened around his chest painfully. 

Lance gnashed his teeth against Shane’s palm, but the hand didn’t so much as twitch and Dios, Dios, was Shane actually going to…?

To…?

“I told you,” Shane pressed more of his weight up against Lance. “We’re soulmates. We belong together and no matter how hard you try you can't escape it. You can't run from true love."

Lips brushed Lance’s cheek and he whimpered, trying to jerk away and going nowhere as Shane kept his head pinned to the wall with his hooked arm. 

What was…

Dios, what was Shane going to do to him? 

Where was everyone?

Where was anyone?

The dorms were right there. 

Lance gave another futile tug, tried to kick backwards and up and not caring if it was seen as underhanded, but Shane’s legs and body were too strong to budge. 

“I’ve known it since I first laid eyes on you,” Shane murmured. “I could feel it. Our spark. And I was just waiting for a sign to tell me when it was time. And then,” a low chuckle, “it came. For I was sent to awaken you,” Shane’s hand caressed his chest, "my sleeping beauty.”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat.

What?

When, when he fell asleep in class and Shane had woken him up…

That was his sign?

That was when he’d decided to…?

“We belong together, Lance. And I’m here to show you what true love is.”

His hand slipped off of Lance’s mouth then but before Lance could do anything it tightened in his hair and he was forcibly turned to look up at Shane, who was smiling down at him.

He should scream.

He needed to scream.

The sound wouldn’t come out.

All that emerged was a sort of breathless whimper.

“St-stop,” Lance managed to choke out as Shane began to lower his head down, his chest too tight, his throat thick and unable to say anything louder. “Stop.”

And then there was the sudden sound of talking and a loud laugh from the direction of the dorm and Lance stumbled as Shane released both his hair and his grip around Lance’s chest.

“It seems,” Shane smiled at him, “we must remain star-crossed lovers for now. But don’t you worry,” he reached out and Lance shrank back against the wall, “our time will come. And I’ll show you the meaning of true love.”

And with a last smile Shane turned on his heel and left.

Lance remained plastered to the wall, breath coming in short, harsh pants and his vision starting to blur with tears.

Dios.

He’d…

He’d just almost been…

Lance turned and puked.

He was still there, huddled over his vomit, as the students walked by a few dozen feet out on the other walking path, and Lance wasn’t sure if he was horrified or relieved they didn’t see him as would they…

Would they have seen Shane…?

Would they have stopped him?

He pulled himself to his feet, wiping his hand across his mouth, swallowing thickly and tasting the remains of dinner, and then turned and stumbled for the dorm before Shane could think to come back.

His hands were shaking so badly he could barely get his keycard out to swipe at the main doors and then had the same trouble accessing the stairwell keypad.

But there would be no issue of trying to get his actual room key into the lock because the door was already open.

And that meant Keith was likely over.

Lance trembled in the hallway, fear both making him want to bolt into his room and close the door and get out of the exposed hall, and yet also telling him to run, to hide, where no one would see him and ask questions that he didn’t have answers to.

A door opened in the hallway behind him and that was enough to spur Lance forward and practically fall into his own room, shoving the door shut behind him with his foot and and standing there, pale and shaking and faintly hearing Hunk and Keith’s alarmed calls of his name. 

He realized a second later that was because he was indeed about to faint as his vision tunneled and he could feel himself swaying.

Large hands — and nothing like the ones that had just pinned him to the wall — caught him about his middle then he was being lowered down into a kneel, Hunk speaking right next to his ear but Lance couldn’t pick out any words.

Everything was blurring. 

“—ance!” came Keith’s shout and it was accompanied by cold against his cheek and Lance jerked, everything coming back into sudden focus that made him feel sick and he moaned, hunching forward, willing himself not to vomit again.

He could still taste it and he swallowed thickly.

Hunk’s hand was on his back now, rubbing large circles with nonsense murmurs of comfort that were interspersed with conversation directed at Keith.

“—get the RA?” he heard Hunk say and that had his head snapping up because no.

Absolutely not.

“I’m,” it was more of an exhale than a word, “fine.”

Even if he wasn’t at all.

“Bullshit,” Keith swore at him but without any real anger. “You are fucking not.”

Lance didn’t say anything to that.

“Hey, hey,” Hunk gently cut in, “let’s all just… just take a moment. Lance, hermano, can I look at your face?”

His face?

Lance’s hand darted up to his cheek that had been scraped against the wall…

And his fingers came away red with blood.

He stared, hand trembling.

“Lance,” Hunk’s hand closed about his wrist, holding his hand there and stilling its shaking. “Mírame.”

Lance gave a small shake of his head at the command.

“I just want to see your cheek,” Hunk said quietly. “Por favor, hermano.” 

Lance tentatively lifted his head, hissing a second later as a damp cloth via the cold water bottle Keith had been holding landed on raw skin. Hunk was gentle though as he wiped at the wound and then, turning it around, wiped at the remnants of the mess on Lance’s chin, saying and demanding nothing.

Lance’s eyes stung again.

Keith wasn’t quite so patient.

“What happened?”

Lance swallowed.

What…

What did he say?

Shane had just…

He’d more than escalated.

He’d, he’d attacked Lance and if those students hadn’t wandered by would he have…

Dios, would he have raped him? Right there outside the science building?

Lance knew the answer to that.

There was no denying now, no trying to reason any other explanation.

Shane had wanted to…

Lance tasted bile again. 

Keith’s hand landed on Lance’s upper arm and squeezed it, not quite painfully but enough to ground him back again. 

“What happened?” he repeated.

They’d believe him, Lance knew.

Hunk and Keith would believe him.

And, and as much as he didn’t want to say anything, wanted to ignore it, wanted it to go away…

It clearly wasn’t.

His own words and actions weren’t enough.

If he didn’t say something now, get help now..

Then the next time…

It might be too late.

“I,” his voice wavered, disbelief and shock and fear all trying to claim a space even here, safe in his dorm room. “I…”

He swallowed.

“I think my TA…” he swallowed again, hands trembling, unable to meet either set of concerned eyes, “just tried to…” he shook even more, “to rape me.”

Chapter Text

The campus security office’s fluorescent lights were near blinding, even after being there for almost an hour, and they were doing nothing to help Lance’s building headache that was compounded by the fact he kept almost crying and his nose was stuffed up.

Hunk and Keith had all but dragged him there and Lance hadn’t argued as he knew he was in over his head.

And for better or worse, he’d given Keith permission to call Shiro.

Lance may technically be an adult, as were Hunk and Keith, but…

But not really.

His coach had shown up within twenty minutes of their arrival, having only been briefed by Keith, Lance listening, that there had been an incident, and Keith had scowled darkly at that and his anger and rage clear but comforting to Lance, on campus involving Lance and could Shiro please meet them at the security office?

Shiro had.

Lance hadn’t really been able to look at him other than a small nod of acknowledgement at his presence and then they’d all been ushered into the too bright room and a kind but sort of intense looking security officer introducing herself as Officer Te-Osh had come in and asked what incident they were reporting.

And the story had spilled out like vomit.

He’d told the officer about how his math TA, Shane Welch, had gone from sort of flirting with him — unwanted and Lance had tried to emphasize that — and sort of… of touching him, and Lance had flushed, in ways Lance also hadn’t wanted to then following him around campus to where Lance was seeing him at his swim practices and outside his dorm room. He thought he might have even seen him when he and his friends went down to the city a few weeks ago.

He’d tried to write it off as coincidences and done what he could to limit contact, but it had persisted and… and then Shane had cornered him and tried to kiss him in Professor Ryner’s office during a scheduled meeting.

At that point Officer Te-Osh had kindly interrupted him that she was calling for the Garrison City Police liaison that worked with the university as this was going to be outside of her scope, and in the half hour that they’d had to wait Lance had remained near mute, only speaking to say thanks for the water bottle Hunk retrieved for him from the free mini cooler in the main office and also to nod his head yes to a blanket that apparently came from one of the first aid kits and he’d kept that wrapped around his shoulders, edges tucked in trembling hands.

Hunk had merely sat quietly with him, an arm safe around his shoulders, while Shiro and Keith had exited the room to talk and Lance could only wonder what they were saying.

What Shiro was thinking.

So much for convincing him it was just stress from classes.

Detective Olia had arrived then and Lance had made himself continue, telling her about what had happened in Professor Ryner’s office and then his decision the following Monday to give Shane a note and related what it said. And he’d thought that had been enough, he thought it had stopped, but…

But tonight…

Tonight Shane had followed him back to his dorm and…

And…

He still felt sick.

He’d grabbed him from behind, Lance had choked out, and stopped Lance from screaming. He’d pinned up up against the wall — and Detective Olia had only paused to ask if that was what the abrasion, neatly bandaged by Hunk, was from and Lance had nodded — and then told him…

Told him he thought they were soulmates and belonged together and he’d implied that he… he was going to…

Lance’s hands had tightened in the blanket.

He’d been about to force Lance to kiss him when other students had sounded and he’d taken off, but had said he would be back and…

And…

Detective Olia had followed up with asking Lance if he had any evidence of the stalking — notes or messages or photos — and Lance had been forced to admit, no, he didn’t. And as he’d feared, without any evidence like that it was all but impossible to prove, especially on a college campus where both were students.

She’d asked in any of the physical incidents if there were any witnesses, to which again the answer was no. The only time anyone else had been around was in the tutoring room and those instances were innocent enough that they could be easily explained away.

Lance had.

What they could do, Detective Olia said, was charge Shane with physical assault for the wound Lance had sustained tonight, but, unfortunately, with no other witnesses and only each of their words’ against each other it was unlikely to be prosecuted or lead to an arrest, and given the extent of the injury would be a misdemeanor charge at best.

Just as Lance had feared too.

And here they were.

“So there’s nothing you can do?” Keith spat, eyes narrowed at Detective Olia and Shiro put a calming hand on Keith’s shoulder although he too looked angry. “After all he said and you can’t do shit?”

“I understand it’s frustrating,” Detective Olia said. “And obviously your safety, Mr. Esposito, is of paramount concern. But without any actual evidence of a stalking crime there’s nothing we can in that regard. I can bring Mr. Welch in for questioning—”

“Do that,” Keith growled.

“—but unless he were to actually admit to any of what Mr. Esposito has claimed, we would have nothing to actually charge him with as right now, outside of tonight’s injury, it is all circumstantial. I’ll make the report so we have a record of what has occurred—”

“I’m sorry,” Hunk interrupted although he didn’t sound apologetic at all, tone a line of ice Lance had never heard, “but that’s not good enough. Lance,” his hand tightened where it was still wrapped around Lance’s back, “is in danger.”

“I understand your concern,” Detective Olia said. “But we cannot arrest someone who has not yet committed a crime. That is not how the law works.”

Hunk let out a huff next to him but knew there was no point in arguing further.

Detective Olia was right. You couldn’t arrest someone who hadn’t yet committed a crime — or in the case of the stalking, proving a crime even existed —  and even if Lance wanted to pursue battery charges for tonight it would be dropped by any court and it’s not like they’d keep Shane in jail without bond until then for something like that.

“However, I do have a suggestion,” Detective Olia said. “I can have a civil no contact order issued that would not allow any further contact of any kind between Mr. Esposito and Mr. Welch, naming Mr. Esposito as the petitioner and Mr. Welch as the respondent, based upon circumstantial evidence being this police report filed by Mr. Esposito. If Mr. Welch were to have any type of contact with Mr. Esposito it would be grounds for arrest for violating the order.”

Lance’s eyes widened.

That…

That sounded perfect.

If Shane tried to do anything to him he would be arrested and criminally charged and that was far, far more threatening than Lance’s written note to report him. 

“I can have the order drawn up tonight and reviewed by the court for approval — notably with some exceptions as you are both students on campus and your paths may intersect, but with clear outlines that Mr. Welch is not to speak to, approach, touch, or attempt to contact Mr. Esposito in any way — and served to Mr. Welch by a deputy by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Would this course of action be agreeable to you, Mr. Esposito?”

Lance gave a mute nod before realizing she probably needed a verbal confirmation. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’d, I’d like that.”

She smiled at him. “Good. Then I shall start the paperwork immediately. Due to your relationship with Mr. Welch in your calculus class I will also be passing along word to,” she glanced down at her notes, “Professor Maneet Ryner of the existence of the order so she can make allowances as needed to enforce it. Any questions?”

Lance shook his head.

“If you think of anything else or if anything new should happen, call me directly,” Detective Olia slid a business card across the table towards him. “As I said, I will also follow up with Mr. Welch and make sure he is served the no contact order by tomorrow. And with that,” she stood up, “I’m going to get that order drawn up. Good night,” she inclined her head at the group at large. “And take care, Mr. Esposito,” she smiled at him, revealing sharper than normal canines.

Lance nodded. “Thanks, detective.”

A moment later the door was closing behind her and leaving the four of them in the room.

The silence felt deafening.

Keith, as usual, broke it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Keith,” Shiro said warningly. 

“No,” Keith shrugged off Shiro’s hand. “Why, Lance? Did,” and there was a flash of hurt on his face that made Lance’s stomach clench with guilt, “did you not trust us?”

Lance shook his head.

That wasn’t it at all.

“No,” he whispered. “I… I thought I could handle it. I thought,” he swallowed, “I was just… just overthinking it. Imagining things.”

“And when he tried to assault you the first time?” Keith fired back.

Lance lowered his eyes.

“I thought I could handle it,” he whispered again.

He knew how stupid that was now.

“What’s important,” Shiro said before Keith could say anything else, “is that Lance did get help. And we’re going to make sure that nothing like this ever happens again. Okay?”

Lance gave a mute nod.

He didn’t deserve Shiro’s understanding — especially when he’d point-blank lied to him — but…

But it was nice.

“We’re still going to take precautions even with this order,” Shiro continued. “Lance, if you see this Shane at the pool you tell me immediately, understand?” Lance nodded. “And I’m going to request that for the next few weeks you don’t travel alone after dark. I’ll escort you back to your dorm after swim practice if you don’t leave with other team members and if you’re alone at the cafeteria then call Keith or Hunk—” he looked to Hunk and Lance realized this would be the first time the two of them had ever met, “to come walk with you.”

Lance would flush and insist he didn’t need a babysitter under any other circumstance, but not this one. The idea of being out alone right now made him feel sick.

“Okay,” he whispered his consent to the plan and Shiro was not the only one who looked relieved at that.

“This is him,” Hunk said, holding up his phone where he’d been typing with a social media profile photo of Shane open on it and Lance averted his eyes from the smiling visage that hid so much behind it. “Sending you a screenshot now, Keith, if you could share it with Shiro.”

“Hunk, we should probably have each other’s numbers,” Shiro said. 

Hunk nodded. “Good idea,” and there was a quick exchange of contact information.

“One last thing,” Shiro said as they all began to stand up, Lance folding the blanket he’d borrowed and setting it atop the table. “Lance,” charcoal eyes met his. “If anything like this ever happens again, I want you to promise me that you will get help. Whether it’s me or Hunk or Keith or any other friend or trusted adult. You shouldn’t have to keep this to yourself, buddy. We’re all here to help you. All right?”

Lance nodded.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he whispered, knowing it was one he could keep. 

His fear of what others might think of him if they found out about Shane’s actions had nothing on the actual fear of what could have happened to him.

He wouldn’t keep something like that quiet again.

“Good. Then I think it’s time we all retired for the night. Keith, I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow. And Lance, seven sharp at the pool.”

And just like that in the middle of the campus security office normalcy returned.

Lance clung to it.

And he hoped that now…

Now things actually would be okay.

Chapter Text

Lance woke up to an email Thursday morning requesting he come to the campus security office to pick up a copy of his no contact order. He waved off Hunk’s offer to accompany him and instead texted Pidge as she didn’t have class until later and he…

He needed to tell her.

Dios, he didn’t want to, but she was his friend and it didn’t feel right to keep it from her as despite her young age she wasn't a child.

She was far more responsible than he was at any rate.

She reacted the way he’d expected — sharp anger and a punch to his shoulder for not telling anyone and keeping it to himself and then a tight hug as she’d mumbled into his chest she was glad he was okay. 

Lance had hugged her back and agreed.

Despite the fact Shiro had only requested he didn’t go anywhere at night by himself, Lance found he had a bit of a guard during the day as well as Pidge had stayed with him until he’d gone back to his dorm and then Keith had met him and they’d walked over to astronomy together and then to lunch where they’d met up with Hunk before Hunk had then walked with him most of the way to his last class — Spanish lit — and had texted Lance right before class began with a confirmation Lance was in class and he’d sent back a photo of the classroom.

Lance knew it was probably going to get a little overbearing if they all kept doing that, but…

But right now he didn’t mind.

It made him feel safe.

The bleachers were devoid of Shane when Lance got to the poolhouse for practice that evening — and Hunk had walked with him, saying he needed a good stretch after dinner and he should do this every night since it was starting to get dark as the sun set just before six now — and they remained that way the entire night.

But Lance had been lulled into a false sense of security before when Shane hadn’t appeared and so he didn’t want to assume.

The first real test came on Friday when he arrived to calculus. 

Professor Ryner had called him down to speak with her before she began class to let him know she was aware of a no contact order between himself and Shane. She did not need to know details, but she had made arrangements that if Lance needed any tutoring her graduate TA would be able to assist him and she’d provided Lance with her tutoring availability and office hour schedule, as well as provided him with Shane’s so Lance didn’t accidentally violate his own no-contact order. Shane would still be assisting her in the classroom, she’d continued, but he knew he was not to interact with Lance.

And class had passed by without a hitch.

Shane hadn’t even so much as looked at Lance when down below and he never felt eyes upon him staring from behind.

The no contact order from the police…

It had actually worked.

Lance hated what had almost come about to get him to that point, but… but he was safe now. 

And it was time to get back to work.

xxx

The next few weeks went by in a blur.

They were full of classes and projects and the starting preparation for final exams as they came up in just two weeks after Thanksgiving break, where Lance had gone home for the few days and the only drama had been when his sister Rachel had insisted on cooking the turkey and had realized belatedly she forgot to take the giblet bag out, rendering it inedible.

Lance had wondered if he should tell his family what had happened, but squashed it. All of his siblings were super protective over their baby brother and between Veronica’s connections in the military — her base stationed not too far down in Houston — and Marco’s less than dubious friends who were only an hour or so ride away, he actually feared for Shane’s safety and then the legal ramifications for his siblings.

Besides, it was over.

Ever since Shane had received the no contact order it had literally been that: no contact. Lance had only encountered him a total of four times in the cafeteria in the last three weeks and the one time they’d been in the actual food section Shane had turned around the moment their eyes had locked and exited.

He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t made a gesture, hadn’t done anything.

Lance had rewarded himself by getting both the brownie and the cheesecake at the final confirmation that Shane would never be bothering him again. 

His evening escort had stopped last week, although Shiro requested Lance text him when he was back in his dorm, and while Lance did miss the sense of security having Hunk or Keith with him had offered he relished too the freedom and the fact that there was nothing to be scared of anymore.

It was the final bit of proof that that nightmare was over.

Lance had hit the books in preparation of his finals and, after some heavy thinking because he hadn’t had the best experiences with TAs, had reached out to Professor Ryner’s graduate student TA to see if she’d be willing to help him as he could feel himself falling behind and without Shane there he now had an actual decent chance with some assistance to get a B in his calculus class.

And…

He felt his cheeks flushing as a dopey grin pulled itself onto his face that he couldn’t smother even though if Pidge saw it she’d start teasing him again.

He wished he’d contacted her even earlier.

Her name was Allura and she was the most beautiful girl Lance had ever met. 

Not only was she gorgeous — long white hair that shouldn’t be natural but on her it was perfect against her dark skin, almost shifting colored purple-blue eyes with an accent that sounded like something out of a fairy tale — she was so kind and so smart and she was just…

Just wonderful.

She explained things differently then Shane but also differently from Professor Ryner and he was understanding again and she would smile at him when he did it and when she said his name it sounded like ‘Lonce’ and he’d caught himself whispering it to himself. 

All that said, he did not want to come off in any was as Shane had to him and so he’d told himself that, if he could summon up the courage, maybe he’d ask her if she wanted to hang out or, or maybe he could join her at the animal shelter she volunteered at on the weekends she’d mentioned, after the semester when she was no longer his tutor. 

With Allura’s help he’d pulled his grade up to a low B by Thanksgiving break and Hunk had run the math for him and if he got at least a B on his final exam he would get a B in the class.

He was actually, assuming he didn’t bomb any finals or papers, was going to finish his first freshman semester with three As and two Bs and that put him well above the 3.0 average he needed to maintain.

On top of that Lance had placed first in the 300m front crawl at the state tournament last weekend and the relay team he was on placed second and he’d been interviewed by the school newspaper for a student athlete feature and just…

Life, Lance smiled at nothing in particular as he speared a tomato in his salad, was good.

xxx

Lance let out a rare curse as he smashed his head on the underside of his bed where he was frantically looking for his astronomy notebook.

He was supposed to be heading over to Shiro’s off-campus apartment — just a few blocks away — for a finals study session where Shiro had offered to cook, Keith had immediately shot him down and said he would cook as apparently as talented as Shiro was at many things cooking was not one of them. Normally Shiro’s fiancée Adam — who Lance had met once when the man had come down to the pool to pick Shiro up for their anniversary dinner and he’d had a no-nonsense but devious smirk that had reminded Lance of his oldest sister and seeing Shiro’s face light up as he’d spotted him had made Lance smile and then laugh as Adam had ‘accidentally’ shoved Shiro back in the pool when he’d gotten out dripping wet to give him a hug and then yelled in mock protest as Shiro had pulled him down into the water after him— cooked but he was out of town on a business trip meaning Shiro had been left to his own devices and for all of their sakes Keith was stepping up.

Then after dinner they’d spend the night hanging out playing games when Pidge and Hunk joined them later as they were out at a celebratory dinner for their first place finish in the  robotics competition with the rest their team, before making their way back to campus or, depending on how late the night went, crashing at Shiro’s. Lance was all for that because it provided the perfect reason for Hunk and Keith’s combined cooking talents to create a huge brunch breakfast in the morning.

But he couldn’t find his notebook and that was primarily what he wanted to study at Shiro’s given Shiro’s own track and knowledge field. He’d told Keith to go over ahead of him — he needed time to prep dinner anyway and while Lance was happy to help Keith was a bit more finicky over his setup than Hunk ever was — and he’d be there by six, which was still a bit before it was dark as the sun set just after five-thirty these days.

If he could ever find his notebook that was.

“Come on,” Lance muttered, standing in the middle of his room with his hands on his hips and surveying his tossed side of the room. “Where are you?” 

He’d been using it last night for some homework while sitting in bed and he thought he’d put it on the nightstand but it clearly wasn’t there. He went back to the bed to see if maybe he’d missed it falling between his bedframe and the nightstand…

And spotted a hint of a metal spiral sticking out from under his pillow.

“Hah!” Lance crowed, pulling it out and raising it aloft. “Found you!” 

And, he grinned as he looked over at the clock, it wasn’t even five-fifteen yet and Shiro’s apartment was only about twenty minutes away from his dorm. He’d be there with time to spare and that way could help too with what remained of dinner prep.

Lance jammed his wayward notebook into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and exited out, locking the dorm door behind him, whistling all the while.

The air as he stepped outside into the starting to wane sunlight was pleasantly warm even though he knew it’d have a cooler nip when he left Shiro’s that evening. Everywhere around him students were outside enjoying the late fall weather and last bit of sunshine for the day as they went into the last weekend before finals.

Lance couldn’t believe it.

Next week Thursday he took his last final and then he had officially finished his first semester as a freshman and with that…

He was one step closer to his dream.

It was a good feeling.

As was the sunshine on his face and Lance turned his face up as he walked, trusting his feet to guide him straight on the sidewalk as he left campus behind, and basking in it.

He wondered what Keith was making for dinner. Nothing spicy, he knew that, and let out a soft snort as the fact Keith had grown up in the southwest his palette for spicy food was non existent. Probably some type of pasta then, Lance would guess. Or chili, as he knew Keith really like that even if he never put peppers in it. Chili with cornbread actually sounded amazing and Lance’s stomach let out a gurgle.

He looked down at it with a shake of his head.

“Dinner’s coming,” he told it, another gurgle answering him.

Lance turned the corner of fifth street, glancing down at his phone to doublecheck the route as all of the streets were numbers and that always tripped him up.

He was going the right way, evidenced by the line of grapefruit trees that were in one home’s yard that Shiro had told him to look for as sometimes the branches could cover the street sign.

As he looked up there was a SUV coming and Lance stopped at the intersection, pocketing his phone, to wave it on as it would take him longer to cross in front of it then for it to just continue.

The vehicle stopped.

Lance waved his hand again at the darkened window in case the driver hadn’t seen him.

It still didn’t move.

Well okay then…

Lance raised his hand up in a wave of thanks for stopping and stepped off the curb in front of the SUV , side-glancing at the front window as he crossed and half-expecting to see a little old lady in the driver’s seat.

There was no one.

Lance blinked.

The empty driver seat remained. 

Confusion was replaced immediately with a sickeningly cold prickle down his spine and before Lance could even step back, whirl around, a too familiar, unwelcome set of arms were wrapping around him from behind and a hand slapped across his mouth.

Lance instinctually bit down at the finger that had gone inside his mouth at the force and was rewarded by the sound of a yelp and the arm around him loosened.

Lance threw a leg backward, stomping down with everything he had on the foot behind him, and there was another yell and the arms fully released, Lance stumbling forward.

He whirled around in the crosswalk to see Shane hunched over his hand although his head was lifted and hazel eyes were staring at Lance and, Lance shuddered, practically undressing him with his gaze.

“Stay,” Lance backed away further into the street, “stay back. You,” he swallowed, left hand going to his pocket to find his phone to call 911, “you can’t be here.”

“Oh, Lance,” Shane straightened up, stepping towards him, “yes I can. This,” he withdrew something from his hoodie pocket and held it up and while Lance couldn't make out the text of the paper he recognized it as the no contact order, “is merely an obstacle. All of the truly great love stories have them. What matters is that the hero can overcome it to be with his true love. And given that fate itself has smiled upon me to deliver you to me today, it only proves how much our love is meant to be.” 

Insane, Lance faintly realized.

Shane wasn’t just obsessed, he was insane.

And he…

He no longer cared that any contact he instigated with Lance was a crime.

Which meant that…

He no longer cared what happened next.

So long as…

Lance was pivoting and running within a breath, heart roaring in his ears.

Shane gave chase.

Find someone, Lance chanted to himself. Find a person. Find a witness.

Get help.

He didn’t have time to pull his phone out now, unable to look down even if he had to pull up the keypad to dial 911.

He just had to run.

He could outrun Shane.

He could—

Something slammed into his left leg and Lance hit the ground with a yell, palms skidding on the concrete sidewalk and knees smashing into it and he felt something shatter with a wave of fire in his leg just as a large grapefruit — a grapefruit — rolled past him and clearly what Shane had thrown with his massive strength.

And before Lance could even try to get to his feet, Shane was there.

A foot struck down on his upper back and Lance collapsed, head striking the sidewalk and stars bursting in his eyes at the hit. He dazedly felt arms wrapping around his chest, pulling him up and then he was being lifted, stomach turning as he was rotated, and more hands were there sliding under his knees that screamed with pain, around his back, and he was cradled against a broad chest.

“You see, Lance?” Shane murmured, his voice starting to fade along with Lance’s vision as his head pulsed with growing black dots.

He still heard Shane’s whisper. 

“True love always wins.”

Chapter Text

Lance awoke to a pounding pain in his head and a strange tingling on his lips.

The latter came again, something brushing against his, and Lance blinked open his eyes with a low muffled groan, squinting upwards.

Hazel eyes stared down, not even inches from his own.

Because Shane…

Shane was kissing him. 

Lance jerked his head but Shane was already pulling back, a soft smile on his face. “Your knight in shining armor has arrived, sleeping beauty,” he murmured. “And true love’s kiss has awoken you.”

The words percolated around the pain.

Lance’s eyes widened, breath hitching.

And a hand against his chest pushed him without any effort down as he tried to rise from where he was flat on his back.

The attempt only made his head pound more, bile on his tongue as his stomach swam, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut.

This…

This had to be a nightmare.

This was a nightmare and when he opened his eyes it would be over.

It was not over.

Shane was still hovering above him, one hand painfully pressing into his chest, while the other was gently stroking his cheek.

And behind him…

Lance blinked.

There was a glimpse of the sky — nearly dark but a few rays of light still holding on — and trees and now that Lance was aware of it he could feel grass beneath him and they were… outside?

Shane was leaning forward again and that time Lance managed to turn his head, nose being tickled by grass, and the lips landed on his cheek.

They were searing.

Shane let out a soft chuckle above him and the hand on his cheek gripped his chin, turning Lance’s face back upwards.

“No, Lance,” he corrected gently. “This is how we kiss.”

And his lips returned, pressing against Lance’s.

He moaned into it, trying to pull away, but that only seemed to encourage Shane more as more of his weight pressed down as he leaned forward, deepening the kiss.

And then there was a tongue.

Lance gasped as it batted past his own, into his mouth, and swirled around.

He tasted bile again.

It seemed Shane did too as he hastily ended the kiss and Lance’s head tipped to the side, gasping and coughing and body both wanting to puke and not wanting to. 

“If you hadn’t tried to run this wouldn’t have happened,” Shane chided, thumb back to stroking Lance’s cheek. “We are meant to be together, Lance. We are soulmates. A knight in shining armor and his beloved, destiny intertwining their fates. You cannot escape from it.”

“Sh-Shane,” Lance moaned, hands twitching at his sides and weakly curling into fists that he knew wouldn’t hurt anyone let alone someone as large and muscular as Shane.  “Stop-p.”

“I can’t,” Shane whispered, his nose nuzzling Lance’s cheek. “This is fate, Lance. This is our destiny. And we must see it through. I must show you true love. Nothing else in the world matters in the face of true love.”

He leaned forward then, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s lips and Lance felt his eyes sting as he was helpless to stop it, his head being held in place.

This…

This was really…

His feet twitched and sharp pain rocketed up his left leg, Lance whimpering and feeling a tear drip down his cheek while his stomach tightened into a giant knot.

He…

He couldn’t…

He couldn’t stop Shane.

That was further proven as Shane pulled away only to slide an arm beneath his shoulders and another under his knees — and Lance let out a cry at that — and then he was being lifted, cradled, once more to Shane’s chest.

The world swam around him.

Lance tried to see through the blur to figure out where he was, if he could find the air to scream for help if someone would hea—

No one would hear.

Lance didn’t know where exactly they were but he knew what they were at.

A park.

Shane was walking them over to where a lone picnic table was set up in a copse of trees, the glimmer of a lake with the last fading rays of daylight and the soft glow of the moon glinting beyond them, and trees and bushes and grass for as far as he could see.

There…

There was no one else here.

And the picnic table…

It had been decorated.

There were what looked like silk sheets and blankets spread out on top of it along with satin sheeted pillows, a few delicate wrought-iron lanterns placed on the benches below it and next to one of the lanterns was a box that even a glimpse of revealed tubes nestled inside that Lance could only guess one purpose for. 

He whimpered, feet twitching and trying to kick out but Shane’s grip only tightened, fingers digging bruisingly into his flesh. 

And then Lance was being lowered down onto the blankets atop the table and Shane was climbing up after him.

Lance gasped as Shane’s weight pushed down on him and hands went to Lance’s shoulders, further pinning him. 

A sob was locked in Lance’s chest.

This couldn’t be happening.

This was happening.

“Shane, pl-please,” he choked out, body aching as he tried and failed to turn, to unseat the larger boy, his legs now straddling alongside Lance’s.

“You are so beautiful,” Shane murmured, ignoring Lance’s pleas as one hand reaching up to brush at a tear on Lance’s cheek. “So beautiful,” he said again. 

“Sh—”

“Shh,” a finger pressed against Lance’s lips. “No more talking now. Now is time for me to show you how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”

His other hand trailed down Lance’s chest, landing on the hem of his fitted baseball tee with GGU Swim emblazoned across the top, before he began to draw it up, Lance’s exposed skin prickling at the light nip in the evening air as the sun finished its final descent behind the horizon.

Lance let out a choked sob.

Please.

Dios, please.

This couldn’t be happening. 

He gave a jerk of his body but Shane only chuckled.

“Eager, aren’t you, sleeping beauty? Patience now. I’m a knight first. And then,” he leaned forward, breath hot on Lance’s face, as his hand continued to drag Lance’s shirt up.  “I’ll show you what kind of beast has been contained in this armor.”

His hand lifted off of Lance’s lips for them to be covered a moment later by his own shirt and Lance gasped into the cotton and then both of Shane’s hands were pulling it up and over his head and turning to the sleeves to drag them backwards off of Lance’s hands.

He tried to swing out as they popped free, but Shane caught his right one and took the left one — a barely glancing blow — against his chin. 

“Sleeping beauty is not so sleepy now,” he laughed quietly. “Perhaps you’ll show me your hidden beast too.” 

“Please,” Lance whispered as Shane released his hands only to press one hand back to his chest while his other trailed down, landing on the zipper to Lance’s jeans. “Stop. I, I don’t want this.”

Shane ignored him.

Lance tried to sit up, to do something as Shane tried to, to rape him, as Shane’s other hand went to assist as his fingers dug into the stiff waistline of his jeans, and he collapsed back down with a moan as Shane struck an open palm against his forehead and his vision went white. 

When it returned it was with the sensation of chilled air…

Everywhere. 

Lance’s cheeks darkened as his eyes lifted to see Shane, bare chested himself, crouched over his feet, eyes dark with want skimming over his completely naked body.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Shane breathed, a hint of moonlight starting to reflect off his hair, the stars starting to lightly fill the sky above. 

Lance hiccupped on a sob as Shane’s hands went to his own pants, eyes squeezing shut against the harsh pounding in his head and the pain flooding his body and keeping it paralyzed and knowing, even if he somehow rolled off the table…

Shane would just pick him back up.

“Please,” he whispered again, eyes still squeezed shut tight as maybe if he didn’t see it wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening, Dios, please don’t let this be happening, feeling flesh sliding against his own as Shane lowered himself down. “Pl-please don’t do th-this.”

Shane didn’t listen.

Instead a pair of lips descended in a searing kiss on his own, hot breath buffeting his face. 

Lance let out another sob, a tear squeezing itself free.

This was happening.

This was really happening.

Dios, this was happening.

“And now, my beloved soulmate,” Shane whispered as he pulled back, his hand trailing down Lance’s face to cup his cheek, “let me show you you the strength of our true love.”

xxx

Lance lay trembling in the soiled sheets, body broken and bleeding.

He’d…

He’d been…

Bile swam up his throat but he didn't have the strength to expel it as his stomach burned and he choked it down.

Just as he’d choked down…

He let out another muffled sob into his bare shoulder as unwanted hands stroked his hair, his back, murmuring and petting and telling him how beautiful he was.

He felt so cold.

He felt so cold even though parts of him felt so hot.

He could feel blood.

He swore he felt it with every breath, with every tremble, coming out of him down, down there. 

Something had ripped.

He’d felt it.

Shane hadn’t been lying when he said he was going to be a beast. It hadn’t started off that way and Lance honestly wasn’t sure what was worse. The almost tender actions as Shane had, had prepped him — he could feel his face flaming with the scent of pineapple as he’d noticed how much Lance loved pineapple, Shane had murmured — and coolness before he’d…

He’d…

And Lance had screamed and cried and Shane had only held him down and told him it would stop hurting soon and then it would feel good and this was what true love was. 

No, Lance had sobbed.

It wasn’t.

And to his relief, despite Shane’s assurances, it had never really felt good. It couldn’t as he was in so much pain as what he was fearing were broken knees struck the table — the silk sheets providing almost no padding — and Shane kept a hand twisted in his hair where every tug made his vision flare, and his body contorted in ways it shouldn’t go and Shane had been there, behind him, in him, pushing and pulling and pushing and pulling and D-Dios, he was going to be sick.

All Lance managed was a bubble of saliva as his body cried out at even that.

The action had been interspersed with kisses all over — his legs, his thighs, his chest, his neck and lips — and murmurs of how beautiful he was, how perfect, how perfectly they fit together.

And then…

Then Shane had turned into a beast.

He was ready for it now, Shane had told him, teeth nipping at Lance’s neck, biting on his shoulder. 

And he’d waited so long.

His hands had dug into Lance’s skin even more than before then, grabbing at his hips, his arms, circling around his neck and choking him, nails biting and leaving stinging wounds behind. His earlier thrusts had transformed into something violent, something hard, something without any caution.

And Lance had screamed then as he’d felt something tear inside of him. 

Shane hadn’t stopped.

It had seemed to make him more frenzied.

He’d shoved and shoved more, dragging Lance against him, the sound of slapping flesh and Shane’s grunts and Lance’s sobs filling the night air that grew even louder as he’d felt Shane release inside of him.

There had been no reprieve any time Shane did so as he’d turn Lance around and force himself into Lance’s mouth, force him to suck and lick and hold his head back to force himself in even deeper until limp became hard and then it started all over again.

But now, finally…

Lance thought it might be over. 

Shane had lied down next to him on the table rather than on top of him, cuddling him to his chest as he stroked his hair and arm and murmured at him, planting soft kisses on his shoulder and cheek. 

Lance stared out across the lake, at the night sky and the sea of stars shimmering above and not knowing what horror they illuminated. 

Shane shifted behind him, sitting up, and Lance tensed.

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Shane murmured and a kiss pressed itself to the top of his head. “I didn’t mean to be so rough and,” he let out an almost sheepish sounding laugh, “I don’t have the right supplies to clean you up. I didn’t expect our star-crossed paths to align today, but,” he let out another chuckle, “that is fate for you, although at least I was somewhat prepared for our encounter as otherwise things could have been even more rough, hm?”

Lance couldn’t fully stop the flinch at the implication.

Shane had been planning this.

He’d been planning this for a while. 

“—and besides,” he tuned back in as Shane was still speaking, “I want you to be clean and beautiful before we go into the lake for a moonlit swim since I know how much you love swimming and I want to share that love with you there too. But,” he pressed another kiss, this one on Lance’s cheek, “I’ll go get some, all right? I won’t be gone long.”

Lance could feel him sliding off the table and then there was the whisper of cloth and the edge of the blanket that dangled off was flipped atop Lance, covering his back and side but not his front where his legs were weakly curled up to cover himself despite the pain it caused.

He heard Shane behind him getting dressed and then Shane was walking around to face Lance and kneeled on the bench there, blocking Lance’s view of the stars and the lake.

His eyes instead raked Lance up and down, reaching to push Lance’s legs back down and uncurling him.

Lance couldn’t even flush now as he was once more exposed, pain pounding through him and his eyes fluttered closed.

Shane’s lips returned to his own, a chaste kiss pressed there.

“I’ll be back soon, my sleeping beauty,” he promised. “Wait here for me.”

There was the sound of footsteps…

And then there was silence.

Lance didn’t move.

The silence continued.

He painfully turned his head on the table, looking in the direction Shane had gone.

No one was there. 

He was alone.

Lance whimpered, legs painfully drawing themselves back up, heat flaring down there at the motion. 

In the distance he heard the faint sound of an engine starting and then the sound of a vehicle crunching gravel.

And then more silence.

Shane was gone now.

But he’d be back.

And Lance…

He whimpered as he tried to sit up, collapsing back down on his side.

Lance needed to be gone.

But he…

He couldn’t move. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears long gone but eyes still stinging.

“Come,” his voice was a croak, lungs protesting from the screaming and being choked and choking down… down things, “o-on.”

He still couldn’t move.

Lance’s eyes blinked open, staring at the ground in front of the table.

The ground where…

Where his jeans were crumpled without any care.

And in his jeans’ pocket…

His phone. 

It should still be there, assuming Shane hadn’t taken it.

Lance dragged himself to sitting, leaning on his side as his backend cried out as he tried to put any weight on it, panting and gasping and one hand going to cradle his stomach.

If, if he could just reach that then…

Then he could call for help.

Lance achingly slowly practically dragged himself to the edge of the table, feet feeling out the bench and lowering himself in stages to that.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

But it would hurt more when Shane came back and he was still here and it sounded like he…

He was going to do it again. In the lake. 

In water, the one place Lance had always felt safe.

He couldn’t let Shane hurt him there too.

He couldn’t. 

He wobbled as he stood up, legs shaking violently beneath him and shivering too as the silk blanket fell fully away and Lance was left standing completely exposed.

Every step hurt.

He ended up collapsing next to his jeans as his knees violently protested as he tried to crouch and his vision went white as he landed on them.

When it came back he was lying completely sprawled on the grass next to his discarded clothes and he reached a shaking hand up, dragging the pants to him, fingers fumbling for his pocket.

Smooth metal met his hand and he could have cried.

Shane hadn’t taken it with him.

The screen lit up bright white in the dark, nearly blinding him, as he pushed down on the button.

But in the top left corner where there should be bars…

There were words.

No service. 

This park, nestled deep below…

Cell service didn’t reach it. 

Lance bit his lip, feeling another sob trying to rocket its way up.

No.

Dios, no.

What…

What did he do now?

He couldn’t wait here for Shane.

His phone didn’t work to call for help.

And so that meant…

The only answer…

Lance eyed the steep hill Shane had gone up.

He had to go too.

His body cried out at the thought.

He knew what it wanted.

To sleep, to collapse, to somehow pretend this was a nightmare and if he just closed his eyes it would all be over.

But this wasn’t a time to listen to his body.

This wasn’t something that could be fixed by doing so, by letting himself rest.

This was the time to push. It was the time to go beyond his limits.

And with a whimper Lance pushed himself up.

Chapter Text

Every step felt like it was going to be his last.

Lance made himself keep going.

His jeans were grating uncomfortably on bare skin — he hadn’t been able to find his boxers and hadn’t dared spend the time trying to do so — and his shirt he’d pulled on — inside out —  was damp with sweat as he labored to walk, breath coming in sharp pants and vision going in and out with the growing ache in his head.

He’d made it up the steep hill, which had revealed a small gravel parking lot and a gravel road leading away, along with a large metal gate across the roadway that was clearly normally meant to be closed but the lock had been cut and it was swinging wide open.

It hadn’t revealed any bars to his phone.

Lance had begun walking up another incline, checking every few steps to see if he had any bars.

The gravel gave way to asphalt and as it finally started to level out before it disappeared into darkness and Lance realized a moment later he’d made it out of the park and the stretch in front of him belonged to a highway.

And there was a monument sign.

Lance shuffled towards it, shining his phone light up on the wording.

Zlato Park, along with a ‘closed for maintenance’ sign in bright yellow and clearly indicating no one was supposed to be at the park and no one would be — should be, no one except for Shane — coming.

And, and if he still didn’t have service on his phone Lance had no idea where this unknown park fell on this highway and if he could even expect anyone other than Shane to traverse down it.

A shiver ran down his spine at how alone he was.

Please.

His phone needed to work now. Dios, he needed it to wor— 

And it came to life with a blare of his ringtone as he took a few more staggered steps forward past the sign that had him stumbling sideways at the sudden light and sound, the name ‘Keith’ flashing on the screen.

Shaking fingers swiped to answer the call and put it on speakerphone as he didn’t think he could hold the phone up to his ear as all of him was starting to shake.

“K—?” he tried to say, the word a croak, but Keith cut him off with the most desperate, scared sounding version of his name Lance had ever heard.

“He picked up!” he heard Keith shout to someone clearly in the background before his name was called again with the same urgency and this time with the question of, “Where are you?” 

Lance’s eyes flicked back up to the sign.

Where was he?

How far away had Shane taken him?

He’d never even heard of this park before and he’d grown up in the Garrison City area. 

“—ance!” Keith shouted his name and Lance startled, nearly dropping his phone, moaning in pain at the jostle and Keith’s tone somehow grew more frantic. “Lance, where are you?” where in the background he thought he faintly heard the sound of a motor revving.

Was Keith driving?

It didn’t sound loud enough to be his motorcycle. 

Keith shouldn’t be on the phone if he was, that was dangerous.

“Um,” he swallowed, swaying, looking at the sign again as the name didn’t seem to want to stick. “Zlato Park.”

“Zlato Park,” Keith repeated and there was a murmur — was that Shiro? Were they in Shiro’s car then?— and then Keith sounded again. “Are you okay?”

Lance couldn’t answer that question. 

He was starting to shake and his legs were telling him they couldn’t hold him up anymore.

He went down with a strangled cry, phone bouncing out of his hand to land a foot away.

Keith was shouting his name again.

“H-here,” Lance whispered and Keith must have somehow heard it as he went quiet.

“Lance,” Shiro sounded then, “is Shane with you?” 

Lance gave a shake of his head against the ground before he realized Shiro couldn’t see that.

“He left,” he whispered. 

But he was coming back.

Coming back to…

He felt cold and hot all at once.

Shiro cursed.

Lance had never heard Shiro curse.

He always said not to swear.

Lance couldn’t find the energy to tell him he was being a hypocrite.

“Lance, are you okay?” Shiro asked it that time.

Lance still couldn’t answer that.

“Lance, I need you to listen to me,” Shiro said. “Keith and I are about twenty minutes away. Maybe fifteen,” and there was the sound of an almost hysterical laugh next to him. “I need you to get somewhere safe to wait for us and the police.”

“Can’t,” Lance told him. He eyed his phone that he couldn’t bring himself to reach for and there was no way he was convincing his body to move again.

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice hardened into his coaching voice. “I am not requesting this, I am telling you this. I need you to hide yourself.”

“C-can’t,” it came out a sob that time.

He couldn’t move anymore.

No more.

He just wanted this all to end.

To be a bad dream.

This had to be a bad dream.

“Yes, you can,” Shiro told him. “I need you to do this now, Lance. Please. You can do it.”

Lance had never heard Shiro sound like that.

He sounded so scared.

Lance was scared too.

If, if Shane came back…

He was just lying here, in the grass next to the sign that any headlights would immediately illuminate. 

Shane would find him and pick him up and cradle him to his chest and…

And... 

Lance whimpered as he pulled himself up to sitting, leaning heavily on trembling arms. 

He couldn’t make himself stand again.

But, but maybe, on the grass…

He dragged himself forward one handful of grass at a time, unable to stop the whimpers as his knees and legs dragged behind him before his hand finally landed around his phone. His eyes scanned tiredly around him, landing on the large bushes behind the park sign.

Maybe there?

He began his dragging shuffle, whimpers interspersed with sobs and Shiro’s voice faintly coming up through the speaker his hand was covering with words of encouragement.

It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour, every second felt like forever and yet an instant as everything throbbed and his head hurt and only the desperation that every moment he wasn’t there he was out here where Shane could find him keeping him moving.

Just one more step.

Or crawl.

Or whatever this was.

Safe.

Get somewhere safe.

Lance finally maneuvered himself into the foliage, hitting the button on the side of his phone to make the screen go dark and plunge himself into the same.

And now, hidden here…

Shane shouldn’t be able to find him.

Safe. 

For now.

“K-kay,” he choked out, curling up around the phone.

“Where are you now?” 

“Bushes,” Lance whispered. “By, by the sign.”

“Good job, buddy, you did great. Help,” Shiro’s voice hitched, “help is on the way.”  

He heard Shiro say something then, but not to him as the words were indistinct, and then Keith sounded. “Shiro’s on the phone with the police. I, I need you to stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Kay,” Lance whispered, his eyes fluttering again.

His head hurt.

He felt cold.

“Lance, that means you need to talk to me,” Keith said. “Come on, tell me, um, what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” Lance whispered.

Like the ocean. 

Like water.

Shane had wanted to, to hurt him in the water.

He whimpered.

He was cold.

Water was cold.

Showers were warm.

He wanted a hot shower.

It would wash everything away.

Even if he wasn’t sure anything could.

He was cold.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Keith’s panicked babble came across the line. “We’re coming, Lance.” 

Lance gave the barest hum to that. 

He knew.

He believed Keith.

He was just so tired.

Tired and cold and he felt sick and everything hurt. 

“Favorite food?” Keith’s voice cracked at the question.

He had so many.

He was too tired to list them all. 

And the last thing he’d eaten…

He felt sick again at the memory of Shane forcing himself in, of hot and sticky and— 

“Lance, favorite food,” Keith’s voice cut into the memory.

Lance clung to it even as he gave a roll of his head.

He was too tired.

His head hurt.

His throat hurt. 

Everything hurt.

He was so cold. 

Except down there.

There it was too warm.

He could still feel searing hands.

He whimpered again.

“We’re almost there, we’re almost there,” Keith said. “Hold on, Lance. Please. You’re,” Keith’s voice cracked, “you’re gonna be okay.” 

Lance wasn’t sure he was.

“Lance,” Shiro came back on. “I need you to count to ten for me. When, when you reach ten Keith and I will be there, okay?” 

Just to ten?

Lance could count to ten.

“One,” he whispered.

His hands spasmed around the phone.

“Two…”

He rested his cheek on the leaf-covered ground, breathing in the scent of earth.

It wasn’t so windy here.

It wasn’t so bad.

He didn’t feel so cold now.

Maybe he could just close his eyes, sleep.

It would be a bad dream.

He’d wake up and it’d be a bad dream.

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice cut in, startling him as his eyes drooped, “what’s after two?” 

Oh.

He was supposed to be counting.

What was after two?

One…

Two…

“Three,” he mumbled.

“Good job, buddy,” Shiro said. “And the next number?” 

“Four,” Lance answered.

His brow furrowed.

What was after four?

Why was this so hard?

It was just math.

But math was hard.

Math meant Shane.

And Shane had…

Shane had…

He whimpered instead.

“Last number, Lance,” Shiro said, voice cracking. “Say the next number and we’ll be there.” 

After four came…

Four…

“Five,” Lance mumbled. 

It was five.

And a second later there was a screech of tires and Lance’s eyes flew open, heart racing, and—

“Lance!” came Keith’s call of his name, layered over a moment later with Shiro’s. “Lance!”

“H-here,” Lance whispered, not able to go any louder.

It was doubtful they heard him but they knew where he’d gone and a moment later there was rustling and a too bright phone flashlight was shining into the brush and then Shiro was appearing.

His horror was clear as his eyes landed on Lance.

“Oh God,” Keith whispered, appearing next to Shiro and holding back one of the bushes. 

Shiro was kneeling next to him a second later, one of his hands reaching up to brush at Lance’s cheek.

It was shaking.

“I’m,” he swallowed thickly, “I’m gonna lift you up, okay?”

“Kay,” Lance’s eyes were sliding closed again.

They shot open as Shiro’s arms went around him and they hurt and Lance let out a soft cry as he was gathered into them, cradled against a chest just like before but this time…

This time he didn’t try to fight it.

He instead slumped there as Shiro picked his way out of the bushes, just in time for blinding red and white lights to appear with red and blue a bit further back and Lance faintly wondered how fast exactly Shiro had been driving.

Speeding wasn’t safe. 

He didn’t want Shiro to get a ticket.

“I’ve got him,” Shiro shouted, stepping onto the roadway and Lance whimpered, trying to press his face against Shiro’s chest as the lights hurt. “I’ve got him!”

There was a squawk of radios then and Lance could feel other hands on him and his own spasmed, trying to latch onto Shiro as he didn’t know these hands and he didn’t want them and—

“Shh, shh,” Shiro murmured above him. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. They’re here to help.”

“Go ahead and bring him over here to the ambulance,” a woman’s voice said, “mind your step.”

There were even brighter lights above him then followed by the sensation of something not quite soft beneath him and Lance moaned as his bottom touched down on it and more hands were there then rolling him onto his side and propping him up with a thick pillow at his back, and a blanket was draped over him and Lance shivered and then whimpered at the movement.

“I’m riding with him,” Shiro sounded and his hand was now wrapped around one of Lance’s, holding tight.

“Tommy, you heard him,” the woman said. “Get this bus going.”

“Aye aye Kim,” and there was the sound of a door slamming and a moment later there was a rumble beneath them. 

“Sweetie,” the woman sounded above him, “can you hear me?”

Sort of.

Everything was starting to fade out again.

Lance didn’t fight it.

He wanted to go to sleep.

He wanted this to be a nightmare.

He needed this to be a nightmare.

And the last thing he was aware of was Shiro’s hand squeezing his and what almost sounded like a sob that was not his own.

Chapter Text

Lance came to the sensation of being lifted up and he groaned, eyes stinging beneath closed lids, before there was the feeling of hands on his jeans and—

He jolted up with a sharp cry, trying to twist away and no, no, Dios, no, not again, not aga—

A pair of hands landed on either side of his face, holding it steady, and as Lance’s eyes flew open it wasn’t hazel starting back at him but soft charcoal gray.

Shiro, his brain filtered.

Shiro.

Not Shane.

“Lance, you’re at the hospital,” Shiro said, his voice even and soothing despite the fact his hands were shaking slightly. “The nurses are here to help you but they,” he swallowed, “they need to remove your clothes.”

Lance moaned low in his throat.

No.

Not his clothes. 

He needed those.

He could still feel Shane’s gaze on him, undressing him literally and figuratively.

“I know,” Shiro’s hand brushed through his bangs. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry. But they have to see your injuries. I promise, I’m right here,” and Shiro’s voice cracked that time. “I’m not going anywhere,” and that part seemed to be issued in challenge and no one denied his words except for a different woman’s voice to say, “hold steady.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut so he didn’t have to look.

It wasn’t Shane.

It wasn’t Shane.

It was nurses, here to help.

They weren’t Shane.

He still jolted as he felt the hands come back and the shing of scissors and then he felt himself being literally cut out of his clothes.

He moaned again, cold fear tampering the heat in his stomach, but Shiro’s hands tightened on the sides of his face, thumbs rubbing on his cheeks.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Shiro murmured. “I’m right here, Lance.”

His skin prickled as it was exposed and he heard a sharp inhale. A moment later a sheet was being draped over him, a pillow once more at his back, and he heard people talking in the background and Shiro’s voice raising and he whimpered at how scared and upset Shiro sounded, words lost to sounds and the pulsing in his head.

“Lance,” Shiro’s hands stroked his face a few moments later, voice calm but shaking slightly. “I, I can’t go with you right now. Hospital protocol,” and there was something hard in his voice before it softened immediately. “But I’ll be with you as soon as I can, okay? Nurses Nyma and Rolo are going to take care of you and I promise,” his fingers made another circle, “they’re here to help you. Okay?”

It wasn’t really okay.

“Sh—” he choked out, giving the barest shake of his head on the bed.

He didn’t want to be alone with these strangers.

He needed Shiro.

“I’m so sorry,” Shiro whispered. “It’s just for a few minutes, okay? I promise, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

It still wasn’t.   

But the choice wasn’t his and it wasn’t Shiro’s and keeping him here was only hurting them both.

So Lance made himself nod and Shiro gave his cheeks one last gentle stroke before safe hands were slipping away and then the cot beneath him was moving. 

“—frontal lobe concussion,” he heard the woman, who must be Nyma, say, “both pupils dilated.”

“Massive bruising on the head, face, neck and throat, hips, legs,” the man’s voice said. “Left patella appears broken, right severely bruised, possibly light fracture.”

“Swelling in the abdomen, possible internal—”

“—Doctor Coran is en route, rape kit and forms requested, appears to be anal tearing—”

Lance twitched at the reminder, eyes stinging.

“—signs of exposure, shock symptoms—”

Lance closed his eyes, the words washing over him.

He felt sick. 

He’d…

He’d been…

His stomach clenched and he painfully swallowed back the taste of bile once more.

There was the sound of what Lance swore was a shower curtain and then some of the bright lights along with the movement faded, and he peeked open his eyes.

A pair of soft purple eyes framed by blond hair swam into view and the woman they belonged to smiled at him. “Hello, Lance,” she murmured. “I’m Nurse Nyma. Do you know where you are?”

He gave the barest nod of his head against the pillow.

“Hos…” he tried to sound out, wincing.

His throat was raw.

Because…

He closed his eyes as he felt his cheeks starting to darken.

He’d been…

Shane had…

“Hospital, that’s right,” Nyma’s voice was soft. “Nurse Rolo and I are here and we’re going to be helping Doctor Coran with his exam. You were very hurt, Lance, but we’re going to take care of you.”

Lance gave another small nod, trying to focus on her and not…

Not… 

He was so tired.

And still cold.

He shivered.

“Cold, sweetie?” Nyma murmured. “Let me get you another blanket for a little bit, okay?”

A second later something heavier and warmer than the sheet floated over him.

“We’re going to set you up on an IV,” she continued and Lance felt his left hand being lifted, something medical smelling swiped on top of it that left his skin tingling. “You’ll feel just a little prick in your hand here,” she tapped the spot that the wipe had just been, “but if you feel any pain after tell me. And in three… two… one.”

There was the barest sting and then the sound of tape being ripped and Nyma’s soft word that it was all set, he’d done so well. She explained the IV was going to give him fluids and also had a mild painkiller that should help.

She’d just been starting to gently wipe up his left palm while Rolo cleaned his right from where Lance had skinned them open — it felt so long ago that Lance had almost forgotten how he’d hurt them — and asking him questions Lance had done his best to mumble answers to — his name, birthday, blood type — when the curtain opened and a man with bright orange hair and a moustache in a white doctor’s coat entered.

Despite his sort of eccentric appearance his face was kind and he came right in and crouched at Lance’s bedside to put them at eye level. “Hello there, Lance,” his very moustache seemed to smile at him. “My name is Doctor Coran, although you can just call me Coran. I’m here to take a look at your injuries.”

And not just the scraped palms and aching knees and pounding head, Lance knew.

Injuries he’d gotten from…

From… 

Lance felt his cheeks heating again.

He’d, he’d been…

Been…

Shane had…

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear boy,” Coran said softly, his expression heavy but still kind. “I promise. You have done no wrong here and I am here to help make things right. All right?”

Lance gave the barest nod.

He was so tired.

Everything hurt.

He was still cold. 

He wanted to go to sleep.

He wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

His body pulsed with pain and the reminder that he was already awake.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

Coran was talking.

Focus.

He needed to focus.

It was so hard to focus.

“Lance?” Coran’s hand landed featherlight on the back of his hand, drawing his eyes. “Are you with me, lad?”

Lance gave the barest nod.

Focus.

This was important. 

“I will be as quick as I can as I know you don’t feel good,” Coran said, thumb rubbing a small circle on the back of his hand.

It felt nice.

Safe. 

This man felt safe just like Shiro and while nothing had changed Lance felt himself able to let out a full if shaky breath.

This man was not going to hurt him.

“You have been severely hurt,” Coran continued softy, “and my job as a doctor is to make things feel better. As part of that process I am also here to ask your permission to administer a rape kit.”

Lance trembled.

The word echoed.

He’d been…

“The kit allows us to collect evidence that we may turn over to the police to assist in a conviction,” Coran explained quietly, “as well as test for any potential sexually transmitted diseases, but the permission to do so is up to you. For your full disclosure, the process will involve myself inserting several swabs to collect samples from, in your case, appears to be your throat and anus. I will be quick, but it can feel invasive and uncomfortable.”

Lance shook, feeling the hot sting of tears forming.

He didn’t want to go through that, didn’t want anyone looking at him let alone touching him down there.

But, but just like with the stalking case, if, if he didn’t have evidence…

And if he’d had that, then, then maybe…

Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

But…

Dios, but…

“I,” he choked out, “don’t kn-know.”

It was so hard to think.

His head hurt and everything still felt fuzzy and yet too clear and Dios, he just…

Just wanted to sleep and wake up and be safe in his bed and all of this a nightmare.

Please.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“I know,” Coran murmured and his hand squeezed Lance’s then, still strangely comforting given Lance had no real idea who this man was. “And I am so sorry, Lance. But you must make this decision on your own without any further influence from myself. However,” his voice softened, “if it would help, I can allow someone of your request to be here with you, to hold your hand if you’d like, during the exam.”

Lance’s eyes stung.

That…

That could maybe make it better.

Make him feel safer even if he was safe here, at the hospital.

He just…

Just… 

But the thought of anyone seeing him like that…

He whimpered, ducking his head, feeling his cheeks heat again.

But he…

He didn’t want to do this alone.

He didn’t want to have to push on alone anymore.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore.

He needed to feel safe.

Shiro was safe.

“Shiro?” he whispered.

“Shiro?” Coran repeated. “Nurse Rolo, could you please go retrieve Shiro?”

“Of course, Doctor,” and the nurse slipped from the room.

“In the meantime,” Coran said, “I am going to conduct a quick scan on your abdomen due to reported swelling and I want to make sure we’re not missing a more serious physical injury, all right? Nurse Nyma is going to help support you and I will be as careful as I can.”

Lance found himself being rotated more onto his back, although Nyma and a pillow kept him from being fully on his rear, and Coran was pulling the blanket and sheet down, leaving him covered, but exposing his abdomen and bringing over a large scanner.

“This may feel warm,” Coran warned.

Lance closed his eyes as Coran began the exam, whimpering as gloved hands touched down on his skin.

“There is indeed some swelling,” Coran said, the heat of the scanner shutting off a minute later, “but I am not finding anything of concern. It seems to be more surface bruising and irritation. A very good thing,” he smiled at Lance, who could not bring himself to match it.

The curtain pulled back at that moment, revealing Rolo…

And no Shiro.

Lance’s stomach clenched at the absence and he felt the tears starting to come back.

He needed Shiro.

Shiro had promised.

“I’m sorry,” Rolo’s eyes went from his to Coran. "Takashi Shirogane, the man who came in with him,” he looked at Lance again, “stepped out and is speaking with police, but another young man, a Keith, is here in the waiting room and he said if you would like he can be here right now, or we can wait for Shiro.”

Lance bit his lip.

He still didn’t know Keith all that well, but…

But he did trust him.

He couldn’t do this alone.

He didn’t want to wait any longer.

He wanted Shiro, but…

But he wanted this to be over even more.

And Keith…

Keith was safe too.

He needed to feel safe.

He nodded.

“Fetch him, please,” Coran instructed politely and Rolo nodded and pulled the curtain shut behind him again. 

“Let us do some x-rays in the meantime,” Coran smiled at him. “I want to take a look at your legs and see what we might be dealing with.”

The sheet and blanket were shifted once more, making sure to keep Lance covered along with a heavy blanket to protect him from the x-ray machine that Nyma wheeled over.

“The left kneecap is indeed fractured,” Coran announced, his expression drawn. “However, I am pleased to report it looks to be a very clean break,” he looked over to Nyma. “An open reduction-internal fixation should be able to fix it in full with no complications, but it will require the use of anesthesia and consent forms.” His gaze turned back to Lance. “Is that all right, lad?”

Lance heard the words but they were jumbled together, too many to understand.

He whimpered.

He just…

Just…

“Lance,” Coran’s hand stroked his hair. “Your left knee is broken and surgery is needed to fix it. But you must consent to the surgery and use of anesthesia. We can delay it, but the sooner the better to make sure it can heal without complication. Do you understand?”

Lance nodded.

What other option was there?

If, if his leg didn’t heal right then…

Then he couldn’t swim.

And that meant…

But swimming..

Swimming was in water.

Shane had wanted to, in, in the water…

He hadn’t though.

Dios, he hadn’t.

But, but he’d still… 

“Very good,” Coran’s hand pet his hair again. “Nurse Nyma, could you please obtain a copy of the necessary forms from the nurse’s station for Lance?”

The nurse let out a soft affirmative and Lance heard the curtain open and close again.

“Your right kneecap,” Coran continued, words and cadence almost soothing as they washed over him, “fortunately did not suffer the same and while you do indeed have a nasty contusion forming, ice and rest will be the remedy for such. I recommend—”

A knock sounded outside the room and Coran called out a come in and a moment later Rolo and Keith were revealed, Nyma behind them. 

Dark purple eyes immediately met Lance’s, pain and horror clear.

Lance didn’t know how to fix it.

He’d thought his choked confession on the floor of his dorm room, trembling and feeling sick with his scratched cheek, would be the last time he saw that expression on Keith.

It had gotten even worse.

So, so much worse.

“Ah, you must be Keith,” Coran smiled at him. “Come along in here, right by Lance’s head. Lance, Nurse Nyma has a consent form for you to sign for both the exam and for the surgery for your broken knee.”

Nurse Nyma helped him hold onto the pen and guided his hand to the bright yellow highlighted section.

Lance paused, shaking.

And then he signed it before he could overthink it.

He needed evidence.

This was evidence.

He just…

Just…

“You are being so brave, lad,” Coran murmured. Louder, he said, “Lance, we’re going to roll you over onto your stomach now.”

The blanket went with him to keep him covered but, Lance trembled, he knew Coran was going to have to move it.

“Would you like Keith to hold your hand?” Coran asked and Lance nodded his head on the pillow, eyes fluttering. “Very good. Keith, gently, mind the IV, there you go. Now, please keep your eyes on Lance’s face, all right?”

“Right,” Keith whispered.

His hand around Lance’s was trembling.

“Lance, you hold tight to Keith’s hand now. Are you ready?”

Not really.

But stalling wouldn’t make it better and he just…

Just wanted it to be over.

Lance nodded.

He felt the blanket being removed a moment later and he could feel the flush returning to his face as he was exposed once more.

Coran’s voice remained clinical and calm. “There is quite a bit of blood here,” he said, “along with some other fluids. I will still go as quickly as possible, but I do not wish to cause you further pain. If it becomes too much please tell me and I will stop, but let us do our best to finish this exam, okay?”

“Kay,” Lance whispered.

“Then here I go.”

It was not painful like Shane had been but it hurt some and despite Lance’s best efforts to remain still both nurses ended up going to help hold him down.

And the sensation of hands upon him, weight pressing down, no escape…

Lance panicked. 

He didn’t entirely remember all that happened then as he’d tried to move, to do something, anything, and there had been pain and then even more hands and he’d told them no, please no, stop, and and then he…

He couldn’t breathe.

His chest was tight and his lungs frozen and Dios, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe he—

And the weight had disappeared and no hands had stopped him from dragging his legs upwards to cover himself and then a blanket was draped across all of him and clarity came back over the sounds of his pants and Coran’s soft voice instructing him to breathe.

He’d had a panic attack, Coran told him quietly as Lace’s breath had hitched and sobs clawed at his throat as he’d struggled to follow the doctor’s instructions and breathe. A normal response, Coran assured him kindly. Lance had gone through trauma and his body was reacting to it. 

Keith, clearly out of his element but trying, pet his hair and held tight to his hand and told Lance it was going to be okay, voice rough but still comforting, and once Lance had been able to draw a full breath and nod to Coran’s inquiry if he still wanted to continue, the exam had started again and now, finally, finished with a few mouth swabs that had made Lance gag but hadn’t hurt.

“It is best to prep Lance for surgery for both, I think, an injection to help his tear to heal and to repair his patella,” Coran said, clearly addressing the nurses. “Lance,” and he dragged his gaze to Coran’s, “I am going to call in our anesthesiologist and the surgery team to get you ready. When you wake up you will feel better, I promise.”

Lance nodded, his eyes starting to already flutter closed.

He was still so tired.

He just wanted to sleep. And still hope, somehow, that against all odds that when he awoke, this would all have been a nightmare.

“Rest, Lance,” Coran said, laying his hand atop his head again. “Rest, dear boy.”

And exhaustion and pain pulling him under, Lance did.

Chapter Text

Lance awoke to the gentle murmur of voices around him and a large hand gently stroking his hair.

He stiffened. 

Whose, whose hand was—

“Lance?” Hunk sounded above him and just like that Lance went limp as it was Hunk and Hunk was safe and right now that meant something very, very important even if the why was hovering outside of his memory. “Hermano? Are, are you waking up?”

Lance slowly blinked open his eyes in answer, wincing at the bright lights and the white everywhere and—

And he was in the hospital.

He was in a hospital bed.

And…

And everyone was here.

Hunk was in a chair right by his head, his hand in Lance’s hair while Pidge was sitting on his other side and holding tight to his right hand. Shiro was sitting in a pulled up metal chair next to Hunk while Keith was standing, clearly given his pose having been pacing across the bottom of Lance’s room. 

“Hey, buddy,” Shiro leaned forward, “how’re you feeling?”

Lance licked his lips, his throat dry and mouth thick and cottony and there was still a dull pulse in his head and what was going on why was he in the hospital why did everything feel off what was he missing?

He couldn’t seem to give voice to any of it except to blink, his tongue heavy in his mouth and a panic he couldn’t fully explain starting to claw at his chest.

What was wrong what was going on why was he at the hospital?

“Here,” and a straw poking out of a water glass courtesy of Pidge swam in front of his face. “If, if you want it.”

He absolutely did.

Lance took a grateful sip, the water soothing his throat and pleasantly cool and not at all like— 

And just like that the hazy memories on the edge of his mind got violently shoved to the front.

Lance’s heartbeat spiked.

That’s right.

He’d, he’d been…

Shane had…

At, at the park…

“Whoa there, easy Lance,” Shiro was standing, putting a calming hand on Lance’s right foot under the blanket, his left one above it and wrapped in heavy bandages, “deep breaths, buddy.”

Lance couldn’t seem to do so as flashes of memory burst in front of his eyes, as hands grabbed and twisted and searing lips had crashed down and breathy whispers interspersed with moans sounded in his ears as hot breath caressed his face as a body slammed up against him, in him and— 

Lance vomited.

All that came up in the bowl Hunk pulled out of nowhere and had positioned in his lap was a single string of ropy white stomach bile. 

Lance heaved more at that.

He’d been…

Dios, he’d been…

Been…

He could feel his cheeks starting to darken, the mortification starting to set in in the absence of the overwhelming pain and shock, at the realization that everyone gathered around this bed knew what had happened.

That Shane had…

The word hovered on the edges of his mind, horror and shame at what it was and what had happened and all accompanied by the cold, paralyzing tendrils of fear that seized his lungs and kept the word locked inside where it seemed to echo without voice.

Just like how Shane had stolen his.

He hadn’t listened.

He hadn’t cared.

He’d just…

Just…

And Lance had lied there, helpless and weak and unable to stop him when Shane had…

Had…

He didn’t want to admit it, to acknowledge it.

It made him feel sick, feel exposed, feel so ashamed.

“S-sorry,” the word gasped past chapped lips, something dark and painful curling in his stomach as he hunched over more.

He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for.

Everything.

Nothing.

He’d, he’d been…

“Sorry,” he choked it out again as though somehow that would fix this.

Fix how stupid he’d been.

How weak.

How helpless.

Dios, he’d…

He’d… 

“Don’t,” Keith sounded before he could try to apologize again. “Don’t apologize. You,” Keith audibly swallowed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lance found his gaze being drawn to calm and steady purple that didn’t look away and allowed Lance to shudder out a full breath.

Safe, those eyes promised.

Safe, he remembered at the memory of Keith’s hand in his.

Safe. 

Lance shuddered out another breath.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Keith repeated. “Not before with the stalking, and not… not last night when…” Keith swallowed Lance’s heart roared in his ears at what he could feel Keith was about to say.

Don’t say it.

Don’t make it real.

Even if it…

If it already was.

“When he raped you.”

Even knowing it was coming Lance wasn’t prepared as the word took up a new echo in his head, both released and freed and yet too much all at once.

“You were raped,” Keith said it again and Lance flinched, “and pretending otherwise isn’t going to change what happened. But what we can change…”

Keith tentatively lifted a hand out, setting it feather light on Lance’s shoulder opposite Hunk’s.

“Is what happens now. And, and making sure you get help.”

Lance stared at the other boy, mouth slightly parted and something starting to click as he looked at Keith and Keith looked at him with more knowing than he should. 

Had, had Keith…?

Lance felt sick for a different reason now.

He’d always determined that something had happened to Keith, something bad, when he was younger.

He vividly remembered Keith’s words at the wishing fountain, at the bitterness and brokenness of someone who had been hurt in ways that couldn’t always be fixed.

But…

Dios, had Keith…?

“I,” Keith’s hand trembled. “I know what it’s like to… to feel helpless. And afraid. Not like you just did,” he gave a small shake of his head and Lance’s stomach untightened slightly because Dios, at least Keith hadn’t had that happen to him too, “but… but I know. And I know what it means to have support,” his voice hitched and behind him Shiro let out a soft murmur and Lance was very clearly now realizing that the two’s relationship was not as simple as how he and Hunk called each brother was.

“And I also know,” his voice hardened then, something flashing in his eyes, “how much it helps to know that the person who hurt you can’t do it anymore because he’s in jail and hopefully is going to rot there.”

Lance stared.

Blinked.

And then the last part percolated. 

Shane had…

“He’s in jail?” he whispered, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

“Yes,” Shiro said quietly, stepping in while Keith, giving Lance one last squeeze stepped back. His eyes met Lance’s. “When you didn’t show up at my place Keith and I both had a bad feeling when you weren’t picking up your phone. We went back to your dorm and I had your RA open the door and you weren’t there. We contacted the police and given the earlier report and the fact no one could reach Shane either… they put out an APB on him and his vehicle.”

“Couldn’t find him though,” Keith muttered, hands clenching in fists at his sides. 

“Everyone was looking,” Hunk said quietly, his hand smoothing through Lance’s hair again. “They put out an emergency alert of an endangered person and Shane’s description and everyone was looking for you. But…”

“He took you all the way to Zlato,” Pidge said, picking up the story. “It’s about an hour north of campus,” she said as Lance’s brow furrowed slightly at the unknown name and the briefest memory of yellow caution tape, “and he went off the grid. He was found right after you were at a convenience store. A cashier saw him and his SUV matched and they called the police.”

“They found your backpack in his SUV,” Shiro said softly. “And if that wasn’t enough, after we left in the ambulance police went down to the park.”

Lance closed his eyes but the image of the picnic table turned silken bed with its lanterns was already searing itself back into his mind.

“He’s refusing to talk,” Hunk said, “but the evidence from there and, and what the doctor,” and even with his eye closed Lance could practically feel Hunk look at Keith, “gathered they have enough to convict him.”

“First degree sexual assault, first degree kidnapping, first degree physical assault, and they’re gonna have a bunch of other charges to add to that,” Pidge said, voice hard but matter-of-fact and the cool logic was soothing in a very Pidge-way. “He’s going away for a long, long time.”

And although it didn’t change anything about what had happened…

Lance felt his stomach unclenching slightly.

Shane would never hurt him again. 

He was safe from those searing eyes and cruel hands.

“The police will need to take your statement,” Shiro said, his hand tightening on Lance’s foot. “But they’ve agreed to wait until your doctor clears you. You had a pretty bad concussion,” and Lance had the faintest memory of trying to count to ten and a layer of panic encompassing the entire recollection, “and they want to run some tests to make sure you’re doing okay. How are you feeling?”

“...okay,” Lance whispered after a moment.

All things considered.

“You’re going to be off your leg for about twelve weeks,” Shiro continued and Lance’s eyes widened at that.

If, if he couldn’t use his leg then he couldn’t swim and—

“The university is aware of what happened,” Shiro said, “and they’re going to be making allowances for your scholarship. Your first semester finals are being waived and grades awarded based on your current status and your scholarship will stand even if you don’t swim at all next semester. I don’t want you to worry about any of that. I want you to focus on yourself and on resting and healing, okay?”

Practically the same advice Shiro had given him months ago.

Just…

Just such different circumstances.

Lance’s vision blurred.

“I know you’ve got a lot to process,” Shiro’s expression turned more solemn. “What you went through… it was traumatic. And, and I’m not going to sugarcoat and say everything is going to be all right, at least not right away. Maybe not for a long time. But what I do know is you, Lance. And I know your heart and your spirit and your compassion and your determination and I know you are not going to let this man win. You are not going to let him take anything else from you. 

“Your strength is immeasurable,” Shiro continued. “And I need you to hear that. You saved yourself. You managed to get up to find help when you were in pain and hurt and concussed and, and suffering. You walked nearly a half mile uphill on a broken knee,” and Lance ducked his head at the sheer awe in Shiro’s voice, “and then still found the strength to get somewhere safe until help could arrive. 

“And so I need you to know how strong you are. But I also need you to know that you do not need to do any of this alone. All of us are going to be here to help you in whatever way we can, in whatever way you need. Because you,” Shiro’s expression softened, “are going to one day visit a galaxy of stars, Lance, just like you dream of. And you are going to swim there like the bright, shining star that you are, because I know your dream will come true.”

Lance’s eyes overflowed.

Shiro…

Shiro thought that?

They all, blurry eyes panned about the room, thought that?

“You make your own destiny, Lance,” Hunk murmured, squeezing his shoulder. “No one else. And you’re going to be amazing.”

Lance let out a sob that he didn’t try to hide, shoulders shaking at the force, but around the tears…

Around the tears he smiled.

Because they were right.

What had happened with Shane…

It was awful. It was traumatizing and he knew nightmares would be his companion for a long, long while. 

But his dreams didn’t have to be destroyed by them. His life didn’t stop here. He wouldn’t let it stop here, let all of his dreams die because of the selfish, cruel actions of another.

It would be hard, far harder than he’d ever imagined it to be. But he was strong, just like Shiro said, like Hunk and everyone else believed. He didn’t give up. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give up.

And one day he was going to swim in a sea of stars.