Chapter Text
It was the typical bar scene, cigarette smoke clinging around the outdated lights, carpet floors with beer stains that had been there since the place was built. Lance maneuvered though the crowd dodging the odd pool stick until he found his way up to the bartender.
“Special, double please.” He slid the money over and threw out the bright straw given with the drink, scanning the room. You had all your typical people here on a Saturday night. You had your karaoke singers, your pool players, friends meeting up after a long week work, and you had your stragglers looking for a good time. There was another type of person, so to speak, he was searching for that could often be found in this type of place.
Lance’s eyes flitted around the hazy room again sipping his drink till he made eye contact with a lovely looking man sitting all by his lonesome. Lance looked away then looked back up smiling. Yup he was still looking at him. Time to shine. He pushed away from the bar making his way to the table.
“Well aren’t you a tall drink.” The stranger grins looking Lance up and down.
“Well if I’m a tall drink, you must be thirsty.”
*
“I hate this part.” Lance complained dragging a rather large body backwards. “Why do all the big ones have to be into my irresistible charm? Not that I blame them, but really for once I’d like someone nice and light. Maybe shorter than me you know?” He says into his head set, pulling on the body bag when it snags on a branch.
“Well it’s your own fault for starting it. And don’t tell me you don’t! ‘Cause I love you bud but I know how you get.” Lance sighs loudly kicking the body closer to the edge of the river bank.
“Yeah yeah. I flirt. But what’s my score?” He grins watching as the rolled up tarp bounces down the side breaking off chunks of dirt as it goes. He hears Hunk sighs loudly before giving an answer he knows all too well.
“Ugh 48 this year.”
“And that makes 49! Oh yeah Lance is at it again killin’ it! Literally.” He chuckles. “It’s a good thing I’m pretty or I might have to actually put effort into it like you and the gremlin.”
“Yeah yeah see you back at the van bud.” Hunk laughs.
*
“Home sweet home!” Lance smiles plopping his ass down on their worn out couch.
“Foods ready.” Pidge says dropping a takeout bag onto their coffee table. They grab a Styrofoam container and sits down next to Lance. “Alright recap.”
“Lance took out that half breed that’s been hanging around Old town. I managed to find out where our new targets are most likely to be and Pidge . . . “
“Got. Food.” They deadpanned. Hunk grabbed his box staying outside of stabbing range of Pidge as he sat on the floor across from his two friends. Elbows leaning on the short coffee table he dug into his still steaming food.
“And coffee.” Lances points out slurping up a noodle. “Don’t forget coffee.”
“And the money?” Pidge asks ignoring their baiting.
“Photos of evidence have been sent and money should be in our pockets in a couple days.” He smiles.
“Alright and now guess what time it is.” Lance sing songs jumping up from the couch almost taking out Pidge’s food container in the process. He grabs a DVD and waves it around gaining a collective groan from his friends.
“Dude. We have watched that movie three times already this week!” Hunk complains moving to sit on the couch for a better view. Lance sniffs at him turning away and putting the DVD in anyways.
“Van Helsing is getting a little over rated Lance.” Pidge says agreeing with Hunk.
“But but but,” He pouts. “I killed the halfbreed all by myself. And he was freakin’ heavy. Not to mention he almost tried to kill me. Fun fact guys, it’s a burden being this desirable.” When his friends look at each other and slump down into the couch further he knows he has them. He grins pressing play and then throws himself in-between them.
*
Two weeks later
“Did you- did you end up sleeping here again?” Pidge asks nudging Lance in the side with their foot, he responds by swatting at them and swearing quietly. “Hey now that’s no way to treat the person who brought you unicorn blood.” Lance sits up immediately with his hands out making a grabby motion.
“Gimme.” Pidge rolls their eyes but hands over the coffee up anyways. XL double double just the way he likes it.
“I get the cup after, it’s roll up.” They warn pointing at him before bringing the computer to life. “Alright let’s see let’s see, ooo new profile sent by HQ.” They hum happily. Lance gets up from the couch he spent all night on trying to figure out where the hell to find new hunting grounds. The Galra may or may not have gotten smarter about picking their pray up at bars. Lance was having no luck. None. He hadn’t had a single person try to take him home. It was seriously starting to effect his ego. He was normally the perfect decoy and took care of things afterwards either by himself or with Hunk and Pidge, but if he couldn’t get them alone they didn’t get paid. Lance drew his attention to the blurry photo on the screen.
“He’s . . . tiny. And he has a freakin’ mullet! Who the hell has that hairstyle anymore? I mean, even the Galra have a better sense of fashion than that.” Lance frowns looking at the profile. “He a half breed or pure?” Lance squints getting closer to the screen and Pidge smacks his hand when he tries to touch the screen.
“Uh he’s not that much shorter than you Lance. Says pure. There’s no files on what he’s been doing for the last four years . . . that’s odd.” Pidge frowns. “Normally they have a reason, huh.” Lance shrugs drinking his sweet coffee.
“Whatever. He’s small for the breed and you know it. He’s Galra, he’s gotta go right? It’s kind of our job to search and destroy. By the way where’s Hunk?” Pidge swivels in their chair pushing their glasses up.
“Picking up breakfast and some clean clothes for you. He knows you all too well.” Lance has to agree, his friends know him and his bad habits down to the wire. “So why did you stay here and not at home?” They ask turning back to the screen printing out photos of the new target. Lance takes his time sipping his coffee again.
“Just trying to figure things out, get a lead on the Galra, where they might be. You know.” Pidge scoffs.
“No one’s taking your bait and you’re freaking out.” They send him a smile over their shoulder. Getting up they grab the printed off paper taking a push-pin tacking it up onto their board. Walking over to a frowning Lance, they takes his coffee cup judging how much longer it’ll be till they get to roll the rim.
“Lance.” They say sternly handing the cup back after taking a sip even though they have their own. “You’re not losing your touch. You’re still valuable, we still need you. Sometimes we just get slow, you know that.” Rubbing their hand up and down Lance’s arm a few times they give him a firm slap, walking away.
“How do you manage to be comforting,” he rubs his arm pouting. “And so mean at the same time?”
“Who wants breakfast!” Hunk asks busting through the door. “And clean clothes because someone is a man child and won’t look after himself properly.” Lance speed walks over to Hunk going to grab the food when it’s lifted above his head.
“No. Shower first and then you can have food. Provided you change into clean clothes.” He easily walks around Lance with his hand still in the air. Lance waits for Hunk’s back to be turned before launching onto his back. Hunk sidesteps him easily laughing as if he has eyes in the back of his head. “Shower first then food. Love you byeeeee.” Lance growls before turning to hit the showers.
*
Towel on his head, fresh clothes on his body he finally gets his breakfast. Hunk and Pidge are trying to figure out who should take the new Galra.
“We could do like a good old fashioned team tag?” He suggests talking while eating.
“Hey we haven’t done that in a while.” Hunk adds nodding between his friends. Pidge grins.
“Good old stake outs, cold coffee and taking out Galra. Nothing says team bonding like it.”
*
Lance is once again in a typical bar scanning for his target, how hard could it be to find a mullet? Lance starts to think the whole night is a bust so he leaves making his way a few blocks down to where his friends are when he spots that awful mullet from the corner of his eye. The figure dips into the shadows of a back ally and Lance feels his heart beat pick up as he spins on his heel to follow his target.
He’s not there when Lance turns into the ally but he’s here somewhere. Lance pats the side of his leg double checking for his knife. Lance smiles to himself. It’s go time. “I think I found our guy, I’m in pursuit.” He blips quickly into his earphones.
He turns the corner and sees that stupid mullet again, he follows till he ends up on another street and he sees the guy shoving a helmet over his head just before Lance can catch a glimpse of his face. His target kicks his bike to life and Lance is in motion sprinting across the cracked asphalt, he throws his body at the guy knocking over both him and the bike.
“HA!” He shouts. Pidge and Hunk are in his ear asking for his location. The gulra underneath him is struggling hard and it’s a good thing he has backup for this one ‘cause phew, is he ever feisty.
“What the fuck are you doing! Let me go!” he man yells.
“Scream all you want but you are going no-“ Jesus Christ Lance is flipped over faster than he can realize and helmet is now straddling him, pinning him into the cold ground. Instead of punching him like Lance thinks the guy is gunna do he rips his helmet off releveling his true face.
His stunning, furious, obviously human looking face. Fuck.
“OH uh hi there,” Lance smiles sheepishly. “Sorry I uh thought you were-“
“Look what you did to my bike! My poor baby, like what the fuck is wrong with you dude!?” Now that his helmet is off he looks like he might actually punch Lance this time. And he does. Hard. Just then a familiar creepy white van squeals to a stop before them. Hunk is busting out the side like the Hulk armed with a net gun, and before Lance can warn him, mullet man has jumped off of him and is wielding two knives very professionally.
“Whoa.” Hunk breathes stalling before him, gun aimed and ready.
“Lance is that your knife?” Pidge asks rolling down the window of the van with an unimpressed look. The stranger shifts his position as if he could take all three and for a moment Lance believes it.
“Course it’s not Pidge it’s right-“ Lance pats his side and then his other side. No knife. “Motherfucker!” he swears looking up at the stranger whose face is oozing smugness.
“Okay everyone calm down. He is obviously not our guy. Point A, his skin.” She dead pans. Lance stands up and brushes off the dirt from his clothes, Hunk relaxes with a sigh letting the gun droop to his side.
“Yeah you fucked up bud.” Hunk says pointing to the poor ambushed stranger.
“He had a mullet! Who the hell has hair like that anymore?” He argues pointing at the black haired stranger who’s now self-consciously touching his hair.
“Well at least I’m not some crazy fuck nut who attacks people at random and destroys their bike!” He throws Lance’s knife at his feet and starts up righting his bike. “Oh my god, her new paint job.” He spins getting in Lance’s face. “You’re paying for that!” Lance feels his face throbbing in reminder that he could very well be hit again but he’s lost in this strangers not-yellow-and-glowing-gulra-eyes. Since the guy is right in Lance’s face he gets a good look at him. Strong jaw line with fiery violet tinted eyes, his stance says he believes he could take Lance out and that makes Lance’s lips turn up into a smirk. He always did like a challenge.
“Sorry what did you say you’re name was?” He purrs.
“Oh no no no.” Hunk says recognising the look in his friend’s eyes. He grabs Lance by the shoulders and shoves him towards the van with much protesting. Pidge leans out the window handing the guy a number on an old napkin.
“I’m sorry about my friend, give me a text I’ll have you swing by to get the money. I’m really sorry again.” Pidge waits for the guy to take the paper and eventually he does even if he skirts away quickly after. White vans have that effect on people.
“Yeah thanks.” He says relatively calmer. Hunk is busy trying to shove his friend in the van when he leans back out.
“Or I could buy you a drink.” He wiggles his eye brows. The man scoffs and picks up his helmet off the ground taking off on his bike as soon as he can. “I’ll take that as a rain check!” He yells before Hunk slams the sliding door in his face.
“Well that couldn’t have possibly gone any better.” Pidge growls putting the van in gear. Lance pops his head between the two front seats.
“He could have gotten a drink with me.” He pouts. Hunk turns facing his friend fully.
“Dude. Buddy. Pal. I love you but you literally attacked the wrong guy, scratched up his bike-“
“With the new paint job.”
“Yes thank you Pidge. With the new paint job. Not only did we probably alert any and all Galra within a five block radius but he’s not going for drinks with you.” Hunk patted Lance on the shoulder turning back around.
“So . . . I don’t get to pick the movie tonight?” He frowns.
“NO!” Pidge and Hunk yell simultaneously.
*
“Sooo Pidge. Receive any interesting texts lately?” Lance drawls leaning into their personal space as they type furiously on the computer.
“Dude. I will personally skin you and feed you to the next Galra we find if you ask me one more time.” Pidges is hitting the keys so hard Lance is afraid it might break.
“Rude.” Lance frowns. “But we’re still good for pool right?” Pidge signs and stops attacking the keyboard.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss out on you paying for all my drinks.” They smile sweetly.
“Yeah you’re still mad about me taking down the wrong guy aren’t you.” Pidge gets up and walks away. “I’ll take that as a maybe!”
*
When they get to their regular bar Pidge goes off to find them the pool table with the least amount of stains on it while Hunk and Lance grab drinks. They’re there before most people but that’s how they get the level table that doesn’t tilt and screw up all your shots. It’s in the perfect spot too; the bartender can be signaled for another round from here, the stage is in perfect view when there’s good entertainment and when there’s not, and the end of the pool stick never hits the wall because the table isn’t smooshed into a wall like most. It was the ideal spot. Lance hands Pidge their vodka on the rocks while Hunk chalks up his stick.
“Who’s playing tonight?” Lance asks setting up the balls. Pidge shrugs, half their drink already missing.
“New guy. Never heard of him before.”
“Hope he’s good, I hate it when bad music messes up my stellar skills.” He winks as a cute girl walks by smiling. Pidge scoffs.
“Yeah that’s why you suck at pool.” Lance sticks his tongue out at them and breaks first. Pidge and Lance try taking on Hunk and while they hold their own it’s not long till Hunk calls the pocket and sinks the eight ball.
“Damn it I thought we had you that time.” Lance huffs taking a swig of his beer. Hunk takes the win graciously by dancing his way over to Lance.
“You know what that means.” He sing songs. Lance waves him off heading towards the bar.
“Lance.” Pidge calls resetting the balls.
“Yes I know, vodka.” He calls behind him. He’s not paying attention as Pidge flips him off and he flips them off using both hands. He watches their face fall and thinks yeah that’s right before he crashes into someone.
“Watch where the hell- Oh fuck off not you again.” Mullet! Lance’s brain supplies helpfully. The guy goes to turn away and Lance grabs his arm. Well tries. Mullet has twisted his arm around and behind his back before he can react. Lance watches as both Hunk and Pidge face palm at the same time. “Sorry habit.” He says letting go, Lance rubs his shoulder putting on a warm smile.
“No worries bud, I shouldn’t have done that. So about that drink.” He winks waiting for the guy to swoon.
“No.” he says walking off.
“Your name then?” Lance calls after him.
“Hard no.” Alright cool, he gets it. He just needs time to warm up to Lance. It’ll happen.
“I’m not saying that was the best thing I’ve seen all night, but that was the best thing I’ve seen all night.” Pidge grins when Lance returns.
“You’re lucky I like you or I would keep your drink.” He grumbles handing over the drink despite the threat.
“You also got so drunk on vodka that one time you can’t drink it straight anymore.” Hunk supplies helpfully.
“Thank you Hunk. I needed that reminder.” He sips his beer sulking. Pidge and Hunk start playing by themselves while Lance takes his time to plan how to at least get this strangers name, if not his number, by the end of the night.
“Everyone please welcome Keith here for the first time!” Lance looks up to see who the new guy is and he almost chokes on the lime in his beer. He starts slapping Hunk on his arm making him screw up his shot.
“Damn it Lance.” He frowns spinning. “Oh. Well we know who the new guy is now.” And there under the too bright red and blue lights is Mullet pulling a guitar out of its case, throwing the strap over his shoulder. Lance grabs at his chest. Well he has his name now at least.
“Hunk. I’m fucked.” Lance is barely breathing. Pidge saddles up beside their friend grinning wickedly at the man setting up on stage.
“Let’s see. He hasn’t swooned over you once, rejecting you twice now,” Pidge starts. “Which makes it a challenge.”
“He rides a motorcycle.” Hunk adds.
“Has the bad boy edge.” Pidge continues. The new guy, Keith, adjusts the mic, taking a deep breath before he starts singing and Lance feels like the heavens descended down upon on. Keith’s voice washes over him like warm honey and Lance sighs letting his eyes close.
“And he can sing. Yeah you’re fucked.” Hunk grins. Lance leans over Pidge nearly taking them down, throwing his hand dramatically across his face.
“I’m in love.”
Lance doesn’t play pool for the rest of the night and his friends don’t even try to make him because he’s so distracted by Keith, it’d be detrimental to everyone’s health within a ten foot radius. His soul focus is the guitar playing mullet in front of him. Sure he could use a trim but hey he’ll take what he can get. Keith plays for about four more songs before he thanks everyone for their time and packs up his instrument. Everyone claps but Lance’s corner is the loudest with their hollering rambunctious clapping and a pricing wolf whistle from a certain tan skinned Galra hunter.
Keith looks up squinting through the bright lights spotting Lance, he doesn’t smile but he doesn’t glare, Lance counts that as a win.
“So I’m gunna go . . . yeah. Don’t wait up guys!” Lance grins as he walks off. He orders another beer for himself and a rum and coke for the man he’s about to sweep off his feet. He looks like a rum and coke guy. He weaves through the crowd that’s gathered since it’s gotten later, his eyes brighten when he sees a familiar mullet hanging around a table by himself. His feet change direction without him even thinking about it.
“Looking for some company?” Lance raises he voice when Keith doesn’t see him right away.
“Seats taken.” He says patting his guitar case. Lance slides the dark drink across the table. “Poisoned?” He snarks, looking up through his bangs. Lance swallows reminding himself to just breathe this is like every other guy he’s taken down. Kind of. Except he’s not trying to lure him to his death like some land walking siren.
“Uh look I’m really sorry about your bike, Pidge says you haven’t gotten a hold of them yet. I really will pay for her.” Lance says honestly trying to convey in his face he’s not actually a major asshole. After a very awkward moment it’s very obvious Keith wants nothing to do with him. “Well you have the number, it was- you were really good tonight.” Lance turns around and does to walk back to his pool table in defeat.
“Wait.” Keith signs. Lance turns around and walks back so fast he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so excited.
“Yes?” he asks hopefully watching as Keith stands up. He reaches out and takes Lance’s beer, trading it for his hard bar drink.
“For the record I drink beer, just so you know.” And the corners of his lips barely turn up but it’s there and Lance feels ecstatic.
“Yes! I mean yes yeah, of course. For the record. Like future record, for when we meet again?” Lance asks carefully, trying to play down his excitement. The corner of Keith’s lips twitch upwards.
“Maybe, uh?” Lance shoves his hand forward instantly.
“Lance. Name’s Lance.”