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Okay, so maybe Pidge shouldn’t be snooping around in Hunk’s personal shit, and maybe she shouldn’t be looking at Hunk’s journal, but she did it first!
Sure, everything was fine now that everyone knew about Pidge being a girl and her mission to find her brother and all that, but still. When Hunk had shown everyone that picture of her and Matt standing in front of the academy, her blood had boiled. Pidge understands curiosity, she really, really does, but crossing the lines of privacy just because you can’t control it? Ridiculous.
She knows that probably sounds a bit hypocritical considering she’s sitting in her room with a journal containing all of Hunk’s secrets, but this is just payback! No other reason at all. Nope.
…okay, so Pidge is also pretty curious. While Hunk has always been bright and cheerful and warm and loyal and kind and genuinely friendly since day one, Pidge has always been wary of it. Hunk is just too damn good to be real.
Pidge locks her bedroom door, throwing up a quick firewall just in case someone tried to override the lock for any reason, she’d have enough time to hide the journal. Call it paranoia if you want. Pidge likes to call it preparedness.
She settles on her bunk, biting her lip as she runs her hands over the veritable tome in her hand. Pidge preferred to keep ker journals smaller, thinner, more compact. She has a whole collection of them back on Earth- or, well, had. She doesn’t know what’s happening to the stuff she had no time to collect before leaving that corner of the universe. Anyway, she used to have three floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in her room, and two specific shelves were dedicated to all of her journals filled with her notes on her successful work, little doodles, her innermost thoughts, wonderings, secrets.
Looking down at the thick, weathered book in her hand, she takes a moment to wonder why it had been on Hunk’s person when they went out that night. It must have been in one of those big pouches on her belt, but Pidge can’t imagine why she’d bother toting it around unless she was just that scared of people reading her journal.
Suddenly Pidge feels like an asshole. Maybe she shouldn’t be looking at this.
Then again, that fear could have stemmed from the fact that she didn’t want retaliation for all the secrets she’s pulled from others’ journals during her time at the Garrison. Hunk may be the most genuinely good people Pidge knows, but she also knows Hunk likes to hoard secrets like a freaking dragon.
Pidge narrows her eyes in contemplation. It seems the most likely, plausible reason, and Pidge is too intrigued not to get some dirt on Hunk.
She cracks open the journal, taking note of how old this book is. The spine is weathered. Not as old as, say, her 1904 copy of Frankenstein or even her 1993 copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos , but there’s definitely been some years put into this thing.
The first page stops her. This journal belongs to Aigafealofani Gagailoa . What. Pidge squints, whispering through the syllables as best she can (but probably butchering the pronunciation). She takes a moment to pull out notebook, jotting down the name so she doesn’t forget it (because while Pidge is a tech, physics and math genius, and regardless of the fact that her Lion has, like, plant powers, she’s not actually a botanist or biologist and this name looks more like a scientific binomial than an actual name). AG-uh-fee-uh-luff-AN-ee? AYG-gaff-ee-ah-loh-FAN-ee? Gag-GAIL-oh-uh?
The fact that Hunk’s name comes from a different culture, a different language entirely, means that Pidge just probably straight murdering the elocution. After attempt number three, she gives up.
She doesn’t have much time before Hunk realizes her journal is gone, so she needs to move it along. She turns to the first page of the actual diary entries and stops short again. This handwriting looks more like a child’s- She checks the date and sure enough, this entry is from when Hunk was about eleven years old.
(September 14, 2009) “The kids at school are mean to me because I’m fat. Tina says I’m just made to be a stronger body. I hope she’s right. I don’t want to be the fat kid of anymore.”
Pidge frowns. At the bottom of the page is a stick-person drawing of what Pidge assumes is a sad-faced mini-Hunk alone, off to one side of the page, and five other stick children on the other with mean faces. One of them even has her arm pointed out with angry brows and a big smile like cartoon villains.
Pidge never knew Hunk had ever had a hard time making friends. Let Pidge reiterate for the third time now- Hunk is so good. It makes absolutely no sense in Pidge’s mind that little Hunk was ever made fun of for something so stupid as body weight...to the point that she had genuine body image issues. Maybe she doesn’t anymore, but the little kid version of her did, and that breaks Pidge’s heart.
She continues reading.
(October 10, 2009) “Tina and Tama got me a teacup pig today! I’ve wanted one for so long now! I think I’m gonna name her Fāsipuaʻa . Tina thought it was crass [* means lacking sensitivity or intelligence], but Tama thought it was hilarious. I’m so happy.”
(October 13, 2009) “Kalepo said that having a pig suits me because one day she’ll grow fat like me. I really hate the boys here.”
(January 6, 2010) “I’m glad I have Fāsipuaʻa with me now. Tina’s hugs are the best, but she always looks so sad when I cry.”
(May 30, 2010) “I want to be as strong as Tama someday. He’s big like me and has the biggest muscles in the whole village! I once saw him crack a coconut with his bare hands. How cool is that?” [At the bottom, a large, tattooed man flexes his muscles. At his feet are semicircles Pidge assumes are coconuts.]
(June 8, 2010) “I should probably feel sadder that we’re moving away, shouldn’t I? I’m going to miss Sina for sure, but I’ll write her letters and call her on the phone all the time! It’ll be like I never moved.
...I hope I make more than one friend at my new school.”
(July 31, 2010) “Either Tama gave me the wrong information or I wasn’t listening well enough because apparently we’re moving to the USA. I’m scared. What if people here are meaner than Samoans?” [A lot of surprised and scared faces frame this entry.]
(August 27, 2010) “Most people are okay here. One kid made fun of me for being so brown and for the way I talk, but another kid told him to shut up before ignoring me, so that was kind of nice, I guess.” [Under it, there’s a sketch of an island, birds littering the page, a volcano in the distance, the sun a neutral-faced circle in the sky.]
Pidge is starting to regret this, but maybe childhood Hunk just had a Bad Time. It sounds like her family is pretty cool though (context clues point to “Tina” meaning “mom” and “Tama” meaning dad). She really wants to know what the hell Fāsipuaʻa means so she can get the joke too.
She flips through the pages, skimming for the most part, catching little things like the fact that with age, her entries became more and more common, more of a daily thing. She caught the fact that Hunk is apparently fluent in four languages and the day she won a ribbon for best pie at the local fair and that she eventually did indeed start loving her, quote, “THICC THIGHS AND BOOTY,” and that she was pressured into her first kiss at fifteen by a creepy older man who smelled like cheap cologne and tasted like cigarettes (Pidge has to put the book down at that point to take a few calming breaths).
She stops about halfway through the journal, when Hunk penned down her days at the Garrison. Interested, Pidge sits up straighter, paying more attention for blackmail material.
(August 11, 2014) “The food here is great! Well...it’s pretty good. Could definitely use better (i.e. more) spicing, and more condiment options, and they really need to learn not to cook the burgers until they’re flat, brown disks, and a bit of flair would be nice, but overall 8/10.” Pidge shakes her head with a fond huff. Hunk hasn’t changed a bit in that respect.
(August 12, 2014) “Met someone new today! His name is Lance and he’s really cool. We have the same lunch period, and those of us who didn’t already have a clique to sit with sat together. He’s pretty funny, and he’s so friendly. Maybe a bit too friendly with how much he was flirting with me and every other girl at the table, but I’ll take it over being a loner at Palos Verdes.” [A basic, surprisingly realistic sketch of Lance’s profile sits on the bottom, righthand corner.]
(August 30, 2014) “I’m so glad I went into engineering here. I’m in my element!”
(September 19, 2014) “Apparently it’s ‘hot’ when I swear in ‘Pacific Islander.’ What does that even mean? We don’t all have one, big unified language! Sure, they kind of sound the same to anyone not PI, but we have dialects, damn it. I’m Samoan, not just Pacific Islander.” And three hours later, “since they don’t want to learn how to pronounce my name, I’ve apparently been dubbed, ‘Moana.’ I guess it could be worse.”
The next day, “this really cute girl just called me a ‘hunk.’ Should I be offended? Unsure.”
(September 21, 2014) “Her name is Erica. Erica. Just call me Ariel because shalalalalala won’t stop now, don’t wanna hide it, how I wanna ‘Kiss the Girl!”
Pidge freezes, a flush rushing up high on her cheeks. She readjusts her glasses, squinting at that last entry. Did Hunk just…? Is Hunk- Does Hunk like girls? Pidge skims over the next few pages, completely forgetting about her mission to get payback in order to find some more info. She makes a small sound of triumph when she finds the next entry about this “Erica.”
(April 18, 2015) “Hey, Journal. It’s been a while since I wrote about Erica, and most of that’s because I’m embarrassed by the whole situation.
Erica’s really, really hot. Like, knock-me-off-my-feet hot, and when she started flirting with me and calling me a hunk, I figured that meant she liked me (regardless of how confusing it was). She started asking me to be her partner in all of the classes we have together. We used to hang out sometimes after class. I made cookies for her. Sometimes she even let me hold her hand. Sometimes she even lay her head on my shoulder. We did homework together for most of our hangouts, but sometimes we’d watch a movie or talk about boys (even though all I really wanted to talk about was the building tension between us).
It was great while it lasted.
One day, Erica told me she wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. Of course I, being the selfless being that I am, offered to help her find out. And gods, it was amazing. I’d kissed boys before and it was really nice, but this was on a whole other level. It cemented a lot of things for me like the fact that I wasn’t making up my attraction to girls and that I’m definitely at least bi.”
Well, that confirms it. Pidge bites her lip against the pulsing heat curling around the tips of her ears. Her heart is racing as fast as Keith’s Lion, and her eyes are wide as saucers as she keeps reading.
“Erica...didn’t have the same reaction. It wasn’t bad, but I was hoping for more than a thoughtful hum. She said she guessed we’d just have to try more to see how she really felt about it, and I was more than happy to accept it.
I didn’t realize that meant that she’d cut off the rest of the things we used to do- no more resting her head on my shoulder. No more holding hands. She stopped looking me in the eye. Eventually, she stopped asking me to hang out, and the few times we did, she would get this disgusted look on her face when I asked if she wanted to try again.
If she had told me she wanted to basically ‘break up’ and let me go, it would have hurt a lot less than the shit she pulled.
We were hanging out with a mix of our friends- Lance was friends with everyone, so of course he was there (thank the gods). I think I bumped her trying to get a drink or something, and she acted like I assaulted her. She yelled at me in front of everyone, telling me how I needed to back off.
I asked her what was wrong. She said she wasn’t gay, no matter how much I wanted her to be. That the ‘kiss’ (she didn’t say kisses) was a mistake. That she must have been crazy to think she could ‘try to be with me just because I look like a hunky guy.’ I’ve never seen her react like that to anyone. I don’t think I’ve ever been that hurt either.
I didn’t even know what to do, so I just ran off, hiding in my room and crying until I just couldn’t anymore. This is the first time my heart has ever been so crushed before. For a while, I thought I would never be able to feel happy again. (Yeah, yeah, journal. I know I’m being dramatic again.)
I said it before, but thank the gods for Lance. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably still be in a depressed rut.
After what I call the Ericapocalypse, it spread through the whole school within two days. My nickname has regrettably changed from Moana to Hunk, but maybe after a while, it won’t hurt so much. After all, I am rather hunky. ;)” [There’s a wavy arrow pointing down to a little, muscular Hunk flexing her muscles not unlike her older, simpler sketch of her father.]
Pidge doesn’t know whether to smile or rage. Whoever Erica is, Pidge is glad she never met her. She’s a little miffed that after all this time, Hunk has never mentioned her or even the fact that Hunk likes girls at all. She thought they were bros! Lance told Pidge he’s bi the day after he figured it out himself, so why hadn’t Hunk said anything…?
(May 1, 2016) “I still can’t believe Shiro and Matt are missing. We were never close, but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. Matt’s little sister used to visit him a lot, but now she rarely comes around. It’s not like I blame her. I wouldn’t want to be somewhere that reminds me so much of my missing loved ones. Every time I see her sad, little face, I want to give her a great, big hug. That would probably be weird to offer to a basic stranger, though, right?” [Detailed protraits of Shiro, Matt and Katie line the bottom of the page.]
Pidge frowns to herself, swallowing thickly. She isn’t sure how she would have reacted to Hunk offering her physical comfort back then. It was still a fresh wound at that point, losing two of her closest family members and an old friend, and Pidge had been pretty crazed at that point, using every chance she could get visiting the Garrison campus to find information. She probably would have just dismissed Hunk’s offer outright.
She lazily flips through the pages again until she gets to the dates around the time she joined the Garrison as Pidge Gunderson.
(August 16, 2016) “Holy crap, the new guy’s cute. His name is Pidge Gunderson and he’s honestly a gift to my eyes.”
Pidge raises a brow, smirking at that one. Her cheeks are stained pink. She knows she’s not unattractive, but knowing Hunk likes the way she looks sends a thrill through her. She bites her lip on a delighted grin, turning the page only for her face to slacken in shock, her brows climbing high.
It’s her name, a hundred times over, standing out in an array of vibrant colors. Some just read ‘Pidge.’ Some, ‘Pidge Gunderson.’ Some are just basic print. Some are cursive. Some are in various different stylized fonts. Some are surrounded in hearts. The page is filled with her changed name. She doesn’t know what to make of it- Okay, she knows what to make of it, but it doesn’t seem to fully compute, like it’s a literal impossibility that Hunk had ever had a crush on her. Isn’t it?
(August 17, 2016) “Hell YEAH. Pidge has been assigned to Lance’s and my simulation team! I can’t wait to get closer to him~.”
(August 19, 2016) “Okay, so flirting attempt #1 didn’t go quite as planned. I’m not sure he even realized what was happening. He kind of gave me this blank look. Maybe I just have be more bold (even if it terrifies me).”
(August 24, 2016) “Being bold didn’t work. I’m not sure how much more obvious can I be? I already make sure I sit by him every chance I get. I pay attention to his tech ramble. He always smiles when we talk about ‘nerdy stuff’ like that (and we tease Lance together for zoning out). I only give him my best smiles in return. I made him cookies. Cookies! If that isn’t a Hunk staple, I don’t know what is. He just gives me butterflies every time I see him. I don’t want this to become a repeat of me and Erica where I trail after him like a lovesick puppy, and he doesn’t actually want me, so...I’ll try one more time before I give up. Gods help me.”
(September 1, 2016) “Three strikes, I’m out. I’m pretty sure Pidge pointedly moving away from me is a great, big, shining ‘NO THANKS.’ What sucks is that not only is he freaking adorable, he’s incredibly intelligent. His sass surpasses even Lance’s. He’s witty and energetic and funny and interesting and even though he’s super introverted and likes to be mysterious~ and private, he still comes out and hangs with us.
I thought we’d balance enough other out, you know? Like a good lemon meringue. He’s sharp and intense and a bit sour. I’m thick and sweet and more mellow. I really think we could have been good together.
Oh well. I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.” [This paper surrounding the text is decorated from top to bottom with frowny faces.]
Pidge is pretty sure she’s entered some alternate reality. There’s no way Hunk had a crush on her! Right? Apparently wrong, according to Hunk’s journal. This discovery sends Pidge reeling.
Pidge isn’t blind. And she definitely isn’t stupid. She’s pretty sure only idiots and gay men were immune to Hunk’s... everything. Hunk was the first person that really distracted Pidge from her goal. She was the first person to pull Pidge out of her head long enough to actually have fun at the Garrison. She was the first person who actually seemed interested in what Pidge had to say, whether it be about her inventions or struggles with certain calc equations or even just her bitching about how bland the caf food was. Hunk’s always been attentive and sweet and kind and soft and gentle. Her anxiety gets the best of her sometimes, and she has a weak stomach, and her penchant for crossing privacy lines are her ‘worst’ traits, but Pidge would rather take all of that over cruel or vindictive or selfish or untrustworthy.
All this time, Pidge could have had something with the (arguably) best person in her life?
No. No, she couldn’t. Almost year ago, when that entry was written, Pidge was deep in her search for answers, clues, tidbits of information about what happened to her brother, father and Shiro. She was too focused on balancing her studies with maintaining tentative friendships with her ongoing search for evidence of her family’s whereabouts. She hadn’t even thought about potential relationships.
Hell, she’s still looking for them, but now that she’s part of Team Voltron, she’s been making leaps and bounds in finding answers in comparison to the bits and pieces peppered here and there during her stay at the Garrison.
Still. This is Hunk. Warm-hearted, empathetic, easy-going, open-minded, loyal, strong, beautiful Hunk. And apparently she was interested in Pidge.
Was.
Suddenly, despite the guilt threatening to lodge itself in her throat, Pidge needs to know if any of Hunk’s interest in her lingered.
(October 31, 2016) “Pidge didn’t come out to Lance’s dorm room Halloween party. I get that he’s an introvert in the highest, but I’d still hoped he would’ve come. I wonder what he would’ve dressed up as. I bet he would’ve looked even cuter than normal under all those green lights Lance set up.
On a lighter note, my Moana costume was a hit. Since I made the food, it was awesome, and I had fun dancing with everyone. Maybe Pidge will come to the next party.”
Pidge remembers that night. She was too busy hacking into the Garrison’s mainframe to worry about a silly, old Halloween party. She hadn’t even found anything of worth that night. Just the same, cyclical bullshit- redacted information and firewalls everywhere. She regrets not going.
She bets Hunk made a perfect Moana. She bets the food really was awesome (it always is when it's Hunk’s cooking). She bets Hunk looks stunning with a fine sheen of sweat when she dances, her body moving to the music, her chin-length hair swinging through the air, a bright, beaming smile on her flushed face. Pidge wonders if she can manage to see it for herself someday.
(November 7, 2016) “Lance is pissed about all of us failing the flight simulation, and I know he’s beating himself up about it, but really, we all had a hand in failing. Lance was being too cocky. I threw up again (I really hope I get over this motion sickness bullcrap, but I’m not sure it’s something I can cure?), and Pidge… I don’t think he did anything wrong, technically. He was a bit argumentative, made a couple smart comments, but aside from that, he followed protocol. Lance just likes to take the leader thing a bit too far, and I was kind of MIA.
Afterwards though, he ghosted. I hope he’s okay.”
(Sometime mid-December?, 2016) “Holy CRAP, so much has happened, journal. You wouldn’t even believe it. I’m so glad I keep you close at all times or I would have lost my mind. This one’s gonna be a long story…”
Pidge cut off reading there with a small smile. She already knew the events of the first month being out here. Finding the Lions, fighting some Galra, “team bonding,” saving Arus, almost getting taken over by the Galra, defeating them, and launching into space to continue their mission to save the universe (and to continue Pidge’s personal mission to save her family)- all of that happened in the span of roughly 23-32 Earth days (Altean time conversion was weird).
She checks the time on her datapad and nearly drops it in shock. She’s been sitting here reading Hunk’s journal for hours. Hunk’s undoubtedly gone back to her room for the night, and Pidge is praying she doesn’t check her bottom drawer every night before going to bed.
Well...it’s too late to do anything but continue, right? Pidge isn’t even worried about finding any real dirt on Hunk anymore, too eager to see what she thinks about her now. She flicks through the pages, stopping every time Pidge spots her name.
(Mid-December, 2016) “Even though I miss my family, I’m glad I at least have Lance and Pidge out here. Keith is cool. We didn’t talk a lot back at the Garrison, but he was always nice when we did. Shiro’s awesome, but we’ve never been close and as much as I don’t want it to, his Galra arm kind of freaks me out. What if they gave it to him so they could control him? Could they tap into it for information about the castle-ship or something? What if there’s a mic in it and they’re hearing everything going on over here? I’m trying not to worry about it, but let’s be honest- I’m a worrier. I’ll just keep an eye on it and hope I’m wrong.”
(Late December, 2016) “So...Pidge is a girl. And is apparently Matt Holt’s sister. I figured there was something going on with his- her gender (‘he’s’ too pretty to be real; ‘he’ always got weird for, like, a full week every month, he avoided pronouns like the plague), but to find out she’s actually Katie Holt is weird. Need some time to process.”
(Very early January, 2017) “It doesn’t actually matter that Pidge is Katie. Now that we’re friends I can give her that hug I’ve always wanted to give her. Plus, you, journal, know more than anyone that gender never mattered to me. Pidge (Katie?) must have had her reasons for changing her identity. Her family is missing, and I do remember her getting kicked out for snooping. It’s definitely not out of reach that she’d do something drastic like going undercover to find them.
Her loyalty to her family knows no bounds, and I appreciate that in people. (I’m still relieved she chose to stay.)”
(Same day, 2017) “Holy cow. Pidge’s cloaking device is badass. It really came through for us back on Balmera. She’s amazing.” [Heart-eyed smiley faces line the border of the page.]
(Mid-January, 2017) “I think my favorite thing might be when Pidge’s glasses fall down her nose and that little line between her brows comes out when she’s concentrating. Or when she’s frustrated (not that I’d ever tell her that unless I want to be harped on). I’ve always loved that, even back at the Garrison. She’s just so focused. It’s a good look on her.”
(Mid-February, 2017) “I’ve started making Pidge-specific foods and picking up any piece of technology I can get my hands on on missions to give to her. She’s just been so sad lately what with the lack of information about Matt and her dad, and the only things that really cheer her up lately are flying around in Green, good food and new tech. The least I can do is give her two of those things to try and make it easier for her.”
So that’s why the food goo had started tasting kind of like poutine and chicken curry earlier in the year. Pidge smiles fondly down at the page, tracing a finger over the sketches of her various foods at the bottom. She hadn’t realized Hunk paid so much attention. Pidge is sure she can list off foods Hunk likes too, but it’s not like Hunk is all that picky. She wouldn’t be able to tell you what Hunk’s actual favorites are though. She can, however, tell you what foods Hunk doesn’t like. Fries dipped in Wendy’s frosties. Fluffernutter sandwiches. Plain avocados. Venison. And...that might be it. Seriously, the list is small.
The point is that she knows a lot about Hunk too.
She’s starting to realize that maybe Hunk liked (likes?) Pidge just as much as she likes her. She’s starting to feel the guilt suffuse through her, though, because...shouldn’t it be Hunk’s choice whether Pidge knows this or not? She wonders if her (oblivious) cold shoulder towards Hunk’s (apparent) flirting has screwed up her chances with the yellow paladin.
Still, her curiosity has brought her this far, and she’s ignored her guilt throughout each new, little discovery, so. In for a penny, in for a pound.
(Mid-February, 2017) “I wonder what Pidge would do if I asked her to be my Valentine… Hah! She’d probably think I’m crazy for even suggesting it.” [Little broken and bruised hearts lay on the bottom of the page.]
(Early March, 2017) “Lance has been really down lately, missing his family. I know exactly how he feels. I’m glad we can talk about it when things get rough. It feels weird avoiding Pidge though. Lance thinks we can’t talk to her about missing our families because ‘at least we know they’re still out there,’ but I think that’s why we need to include her. She needs to know we’re here for her no matter what.”
(Mid-April, 2017) “Okay, so it took longer than I expected for Pidge to open up. I guess she’d probably go to Shiro first with this kind of stuff since he was actually there for most of the crap that happened to Matt. I’m not too worried about it. I know how hard it is for her to let people in, and anyway, she did! It was pretty rough watching those big, amber eyes fill with tears, but afterwards, she looked a lot more relaxed.
I told her she can come to me whenever she needs. For a second I thought she looked like she wanted to kiss me, but I’m pretty sure it was just appreciation and the heaviness of the moment. Anyway, I hope she takes me up on that offer.”
(Late April, 2017) “Sorry, journal, but I’m about to get poetic on you.
I think I’ve accidentally let myself become the satellite to revolve around Pidge. The more we hang out and talk and get to know each other without the whole ‘I’m a mysterious guy~’ thing hanging over Pidge’s head, the more I find that I really, really like...her. She’s so damn cute, I just want to kiss the daylights out of her. I wonder what she’d do if I took the leap.
I can’t do that though. We’re too close and I don’t want to ruin what we have if I’m wrong. Pidge would probably hate me if I even tried. Okay, so she wouldn’t hate me, but she would definitely be uncomfortable, and the last thing I want to do is make things so awkward between us that we fall apart. She’s too important to me.
That being said, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, and it feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest whenever she’s around. I’m a mess around her. I’m clumsier. I stutter around her and I catch myself doing that really obvious thing where I palm the back of my neck. I’ve been caught staring more than a few times.
Literally the rest of the entire team teases me about it. Even Shiro! (Though he and Keith are probably the nicest about it since I know their little joint crush on Lance. Hah!) Coran tried to give me advice on how to talk to her about my feelings and while the thought was appreciated, I already know deep in my bones that Pidge doesn’t like me back. Allura says it’s impossible for me to know that, that I haven’t seen the way Pidge looks at me when I’m not looking at her, but Allura doesn’t know Pidge like I know her.
Pidge can’t like me like that, right? Otherwise, she really is just that blind. or she’s straight. Or she’s aro-ace. Not that that would be a problem, obviously! I just wish I knew so I could maybe stop pining after her and everyone can stop picking on me about it. My fear is that she already knows how I feel and has been avoiding the topic because she doesn’t know how else let me down gently.
I’m not usually this much of a coward around cute girls, but those cute girls aren’t also one of my closest friends, and the threat of losing those cute girls had never been as devastating as the possibility of losing Pidge. Fml.
By the gods, it’s been almost 8 months now. If my heart could just align with my mind’s logic, that would be fantastic. But no. It clearly likes being sad and lonely. Maybe someday, someone, somewhere will see me like that.”
Pidge would like to just reach back into the past and slap herself for being so blind. And that’s what it was- she was, is blind. Pidge has never quite felt so stupid in her life.
(Late July, 2017) “I wonder if we could visit Balmera sometime soon. Maybe asking out an alien girl I’d only ever get to see once in a blue moon wouldn’t be the worst?
...Nah, I couldn’t do that to Shay. Being someone’s second choice is not what I’d want to anyone, especially someone I genuinely like. Shay deserves to be someone’s one and only, and my heart just wouldn’t be in the right place. Still, it’d be nice to see her again. Maybe she has tips on getting over someone?
It just sucks. I want to be looked at ‘like I hang the moon’ (thanks, Keith) or ‘like the only person I have eyes for in a crowded room’ (thanks, Shiro) or ‘like I constantly want to do the do’ with her (yeah, thanks for that one, Lance). I want to make someone feel breathless just from looking at me. I want to make someone a freaking mess just because they like me that much. I want to be loved.
I’m trying my best not to be jealous of the guys. They finally figured their shit out. Polyamory wins! I’m honestly, genuinely so happy for all three of them. They all deserve the love and support and balance they give one another. Still, I can’t help but be envious of it.
Someday~.”
(Early August, 2017) “I’m starting to think maybe I should tell Pidge. Maybe it won’t ruin things. Maybe she’ll let me down gently and it’ll be the push my heart needs to move on. Maybe it’ll feel like a cleansing or something…”
And that’s the last entry. What the fuck. What the fuck.
When Pidge had made this little revenge plan, she never expected to discover that her big, gay crush has been reciprocated. Hunk went on and on about how Pidge didn’t see her, but Pidge is wondering just how much of Pidge Hunk actually saw all those time she was caught looking.
Pidge is just more private with her affections, alright? She’s more tight-lipped, more finely honed in the art of pining from afar. She’s good at keeping things under wraps. Why do you think she’d been able to pass as a guy for as long as she did? She’s wanted to know what it’s like to kiss Hunk for months now (and what it’s like to be kissed at all, but her heart was specifically set on Hunk).
She’s going to find out. Screw Hunk’s plan to confess and screw the expectation of having her heart broken. Screw the idea that Hunk will find love “someday” when it’s been here all along. Goddamn it, Pidge will learn to communicate better if it means Hunk will never feel like it’s even possible for Pidge to not love her back again.
Pidge closed the journal, turning to study the two little words in her notebook for a second before storming out of her room in a huff.
She stood outside Hunk’s door for a couple of minutes, her heart racing and her palms growing clammy with nerves. She shook her shoulders in a vain attempt to shake off the building tension. Before she could chicken out, she held her breath as she knocked on the door.
A low groan sounded from inside, and while it actually seemed more tired than anything else, Pidge couldn’t stop the flush suffusing her cheeks at the sound. She swallowed thickly, bouncing on the balls of her feet, biting at her lips when the door opened.
Even tired and a little grumpy, Hunk is a vision. Even when she cracks open her eyes to glare down at Pidge. Even when her eyes flit down to the journal in Pidge’s clutch. Even when she blanches, suddenly fully awake, horror overcoming her face. Even then, she looks beautiful, and Pidge is a fucking idiot. She should never have waited so long to say something. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.
“Agafilleofanny Gagaloa, I’m in love with you too,” Pidge says in a rush before she can overthink it. She’s thankful for the book in her hands or she wouldn’t know what to do with her hands. She’s pretty sure she’s never actually been this nervous in her life.
Hunk’s wide eyes somehow pop even wider, her face doing a series of complicated movements, shifting from emotion to emotion so quickly that Pidge can’t catch them all before Hunk bursts out laughing. She holds onto the door frame with one hand, the other arm curling around her stomach as the hysterical peals fill the hall. Her smile is so wide, the dimples in her cheeks make an appearance, her nose and eyes are scrunched up in the most adorable way that even though Pidge is feeling some pretty abject mortification, she can’t help but be charmed.
Pidge shifts awkwardly, huffing an uncomfortable laugh. Maybe this was a mistake.
“Hah! Yeah, so...I just needed that put out there. Here’s your journal. I’m sorry,” Pidge says, unable to meet Hunk’s eyes as she shoves the book into Hunk’s hands. She makes an about-face, intending to head back to her room, ignoring the blush burning a wildfire through her face, ears and chest. She makes it maybe two steps before Hunk stops her with a hand wrapped around her wrist.
“W-wait! Don’t go! I’m, I’m sorry too,” Hunk stammers, smiling sheepishly at Pidge when she turns around. “It’s just...I don’t think anyone’s actually tried to say my name in ages and that was...hilariously wrong,” Hunk teases with a fond smile.
The corners of Pidge’s lips quirk up. “I tried. Maybe you can teach me how to say it correctly sometime?”
Hunk lifts a brow. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” Her smile dims a bit, her eyes darting of to the side. “You know you don’t have to say that though, right? The thing you said before?”
“About the fact that I love you?”
“Yeah. That,” Hunk breathes, cautious hope shining in her eyes. Her brows furrow in confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” Pidge retorts.
“You wanna come in?” Hunk asks instead of answering, and Pidge bites her lip, nodding.
Being in Hunk’s room shouldn’t be weird. She’s been here before when Hunk just wanted to hang out without the guys, but that was before they knew they like each other. It feels heavier to sit on Hunk’s bed, watching her thick thighs contract under her shorts as she puts her journal back in the bottom drawer where it belongs. Pidge’s heart stutters in her chest when Hunk turns around.
In the low light of the room, Hunk’s face is a marvel. It softens her already gentle features, warms her already warm skin. The light reflected in her eyes brings out a golden-bronze sheen in them. The light curls around every curve of her figure, drawing Pidge’s gaze down her body. The licks her lips unconsciously before Hunk clears her throat.
Pidge shakes her head to snap out of it, thankful that Hunk doesn’t look put off by Pidge’s lapse in decency. Instead, she looks amused and flustered as she sits beside Pidge on her bunk.
“So… Why’d you steal my journal, Pidge?”
“Call me Katie.” And Hunk looks about as surprised as Pidge when those words spill unbidden from her mouth.
“Ah, okay, then,” she smiles, “why did you steal my journal, Katie?”
Pidge sighs, inordinately pleased with hearing her given name rolling off Hunk’s tongue. “I… I wanted to get you back for all those times you stole my journals. I figured maybe if I got a little dirt on you, it’d be like some playful payback or something. I didn’t quite expect to find out you had- have?- feelings for me.”
Hunk bites her plush lip for a second in contemplation and Pidge wonders what it’d be like to replace Hunk’s teeth with her own.
“I’m sorry,” Pidge says. “I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s fine!” Hunk blurts. “I don’t actually blame you. It’s just that…”
“Yeah?”
Hunk groans, covering her face with her hands. “I only stole your journals to see if you ever mentioned me. Gods, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Pidge stares at Hunk for a moment before chuckling. “After the first time you stole my journal back at Keith’s shack, I learned to keep certain things safe in my mind rather than writing them down.” She rolls her eyes at how ridiculous they both are. “We’re so stupid.”
“Are you sure you’re not just being nice?” Hunk asks apprehensively.
“Hunk, when have I ever ‘just been nice?’” Pidge asks flatly, pushing her glasses up on top of her hair to massage the indentations left from her nose pads, and Hunk laughs. “But really, you have to know I wouldn’t mess with you about something like this.”
“Intellectually, I know you wouldn’t. My heart is still doubtful.” Hunk admits, frowning down at her hands in her lap.
Pidge slides closer to Hunk, grabbing one of her big, soft hands, marvelling at the difference in size and skin tone. She looks up to meet Hunk’s dumbstruck eyes through her lashes. “How can I prove it?”
“I… Kiss me?” Hunk requests, choked.
Pidge’s breath is shaky as she kicks off her shoes before kneeling on the bed before Hunk. She bites her lip against the hysterical smile threatening to overtake her face. She makes a snap decision, crawling into Hunk’s lap. Her breath catches when Hunk’s large hands settle on her hips, her battling nervousness, hope and excitement mirrored on Hunk’s face.
Pidge runs her fingers along the sides of Hunk’s jaw, pulling her down gently to slowly, tentatively press their lips together.
The air rushes from Pidge’s lungs when Hunk immediately pushes harder, one of her big hands cradling the back of Pidge’s head, tilting just so for it to make fireworks explode behind Pidge’s eyes. Holy shit. Embarrassingly, she whimpers against Hunk’s lips at the drag, but she’s pretty sure the tightening hands on her hip and hair means Hunk likes it. Chaste, closed-mouth kisses deepen to include teeth and tongue, slowly driving Pidge out of her mind with each pass. Pidge loses herself in the gasps she pulls from Hunk’s lips, drinks every low, resounding moan spilled into her mouth. Her body’s never felt anything like this- wave after a wave of heat and electricity radiating from each point of contact where Hunk’s skin meets hers.
She doesn’t know how long they sit there like that, pouring months of feelings and love and desire into one another, but by the time they pull away, Hunk’s yawning, triggering Pidge to yawn as well.
“Not to sound forward or anything, but do you want to spend the night?” Hunk says sleepily, her face set to a dopey smile as she brushes stray hair from Pidge’s face.
“I just discovered my dream girl actually wants me back. You’re going to have to tell me to leave if you want to get rid of me,” Pidge says plainly, and gives into the desire to rub her nose against Hunk’s in the face of her purely happy expression.
Pidge begrudgingly disentangles herself from Hunk’s arms. Hunk hands her one of her shirts, and Pidge changes right there. She’s never personally been self-conscious of her body, and the lascivious look on Hunk’s face is worth the five seconds of time she’s down to her underwear. She places her glasses on Hunk’s nightstand before pulling on the proffered shirt, smiling at the way she swims in it. When Hunk opens her arms, she crawls in, fitting herself comfortable in against Hunk’s soft body.
Just as she tilts into her dreamscapes, Hunk whispers, “I love you too, Katie.”