Chapter Text
Hunk had survived Christmas with his extended family and surprisingly, so had the dishes. His grandmother said she’d never been prouder when he brought out the paifala—two trays of golden half-moon pineapple pies. He was barraged with questions about the Garrison: Had he worked on real jet engines yet? How were his teachers? Did he have lots of friends? It was nice, albeit exhausting.
While he loved being home again, there was a small part of Hunk itching to get back to the Garrison. It was like some kind of reverse homesickness. He’d be teaching his niece to paddleboard and then start thinking about how much Lance would love this. Or he’d see a baby cactus in a store and honest-to-God start getting emotional about the boring desert he lived in for the last three months.
Lance: hey ur coming to the new years party right?
Hunk: New Year’s party?
Lance: dude I thought sasha told u
Hunk: When is it?
Lance: bro..
After many tearful goodbyes—most of them from Hunk—winter break came to an end. No more beach or greenery—it was back to dry old Arizona for him. Armed with cooler bags and tupperware containers full of leftover food, Hunk made the trek back to the Garrison.
This time, he and Lance wouldn’t be catching the same bus—Lance had already gone back to school two days ago. Hunk was prepared for a quiet journey but as he boarded the bus, he spotted a familiar face.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked.
The boy he was speaking to was one of the older cadets and the son of Hunk’s favourite teacher—Matthew Holt. They’d shared maybe ten words total in passing but that was enough for Hunk. Matt looked up from his Gameboy and smiled. “Yeah, sure.” He squinted for a moment, clicking his fingers. “Hank, right?”
Hunk laughed nervously, settling into the seat. “Hunk, actually.”
Matt raised an eyebrow over his thin-framed glasses. “Is that what the ladies call you?”
Hunk blanched. “No, that’s just what my parents—”
“Dude, I’m messing with you.” Matt laughed. He nodded to the console in his hands. A pixelated kid wearing a cap was standing in the middle of the screen. “You ever played Pokémon?”
Hunk grinned. “Oh, have I ever played Pokémon?” His own console was lying in the second drawer of his dresser back at the Garrison dorms.
It was easy talking to Matt. The older cadet also loved science and tech, specialising in communications. He’d made a long-distance encrypted radio to talk to his little sister while he was at the Garrison. They’d even made up their own code so that no one else could decipher their messages.
“I graduate at the end of this semester,” Matt said while battling a Drowzee. “If I do well, I might get slated for the next space research mission. My dad refuses to tell me anything because it’s top secret until it’s officially announced—Oh, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this either, whoops.”
“It’s okay,” Hunk said quickly. “I won’t tell a soul, promise.”
“Want a turn after this battle?”
Barely half a step off the bus, Hunk was tackled by Lance. It took all his willpower not to drop the container of dim sims he was carrying. “Yooooooo welcome back, my man!”
Hunk pat Lance’s back, feeling his arms slowly go numb. “Good to see you too.” Hunk exhaled as Lance released him, readjusting his grip on the bags and container. “How was Christmas?”
“Insane.” Lance’s grin said everything. “You?”
“Ditto.” He held up the tupperware. “Let’s head inside and we can talk over food.”
Lance slung his arm over Hunk’s shoulder. “I like how you think, buddy.”
They easily settled back into their usual dynamic, continuing right where they left off. With Lance, Hunk always felt at ease. Never judged. Never sidelined. Never a “second choice”. Lance genuinely liked being around Hunk just as Hunk did around Lance.
“Did you hear Shiro’s gone for the rest of the semester?” Lance asked, his mouth full of steamed vegetables.
“No, what happened? I know he had to take some time off with volleyball.”
“I’m not sure. But I think it’s more serious than people are letting on.”
“I hope Keith’s okay.”
Lance hummed in agreement.
“Have you seen him around?”
Lance shook his head. “Kogane’s like a phantom. I’ve been planning my outfit for the New Year’s party anyway.” His eyes sparkled when he looked up at Hunk. “Please let me help with yours too.”
“Okay…”
Lance didn’t even wait for him to respond, knowing Hunk was too kind to deny his friend this opportunity. “So, I’ve been talking with Sasha since she’s part of the Social Club Committee and the theme is Moonlight Masquerade.”
Hunk took a long sip of his juice and when Lance didn’t elaborate, he budged. “And what does that entail?”
“Well, you know what a masquerade ball is, right?” Lance saw no recognition in Hunk’s eyes. “It’s like an old-fashioned European thing—French, I think—where people dance and cover their eyes with fancy masks so nobody knows who they are, which gives them more freedom to be themselves… At least, I think it would anyway.”
“So, it’s kinda like Halloween? Dressing up as someone else?”
“Uh… I guess?” Lance half-smiled. “It’s gonna be so good, dude.”
“I still haven’t spoken to Sasha yet. I was gonna ask if she needed help with food.”
A shadow appeared over Lance’s shoulder, soon followed by a young woman wearing a cropped white hoodie. “Mind if I join you guys?” Tash asked. “How were your breaks?”
Lance shuffled over to make room for Tash while Hunk spoke about going home to see his family.
“The weather must’ve been amazing,” she said.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I miss the ocean already.”
“Do you surf?”
“Nah, just like chilling in the water.”
Lance sat upright, remembering something. “We still haven’t been to the pool here!”
“That’s because it’s winter, dumbass.”
“It’s indoors double-dumbass.”
“Let’s save it for next year, yeah?”
“Ha!” Tash laughed. “Already starting the New Year’s jokes.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of, I’d better get back to prepping snacks. Sasha put me in charge of food.”
“Oh, I was planning on asking about that. I’m sure you could do with some extra hands?”
Tash’s smile widened. “That’d be a godsend. Thanks, Hunk.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a moment. “Right now, it’s doing my head in calculating ingredient proportions for like a hundred students.”
“Don’t even worry,” Hunk said, already standing to toss his juice carton in recycling. “Math is my middle name.”
By 8pm, Hunk and Tash had organised the shopping list which they’d send to Sasha. “She should get the groceries sorted by Tuesday morning, then we’ll have two days to prepare. We can do desserts first and store them in the industrial fridges—”
Hunk felt a yawn rising in his throat. “Mhm, sounds good.”
Tash stopped. “You know what? We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“Sorry, Tash.” Hunk smiled, sheepish. “I can stay another 20 minutes—”
“No,” she said firmly. “You literally just got back today. Get some rest.”
“Alright,” he said, yawning again. “G’night.”
She waved him off and Hunk slumped back to his dorm.
When he arrived, Lance was halfway through his nightly skincare routine, a strange blue goo covering his face. For a split-second he looked like a ghoul. “Gah!”
“Wuh?” Lance jumped back, equally frightened. “What is it?”
Hunk’s heart was hammering in his chest. “Sorry, you just— It’s fine.”
“I just what?” Lance frowned.
“Don’t worry about it.” Hunk yawned again. “’m just tired… Seeing things.”
Lance rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
“Sounds good.” Hunk was already flopping on his bunk with no intent of changing clothes.
He never heard Lance come back into the room or climb up the ladder to his bunk. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.
Hunk had known Lance for half a year now and this was the first he’d ever heard of the other boy’s hidden talents as a… sewer? seamster? clothes-maker? Hunk stood in the middle of their dorm with his arms out as Lance took his measurements, jotting them down on a pocket-sized notepad. “If you feel uncomfortable, you can measure your bust and waist yourself,” Lance offered but Hunk shrugged and said it was fine. In this moment, he was fascinated by how careful and quiet his normally neurotic roommate was being.
His stomach gurgled and Lance looked up from where he was holding the tape up to the side of Hunk’s leg.
“Hungry?”
“A little,” Hunk admitted.
“Well, I’m almost done. You are going to look so good on Thursday. I’m thinking flared pants and maybe some sequins… I’ve got some ideas for thrifted items I haven’t found a use for yet—” While Hunk put his shoes on, Lance continued to ramble for a bit about making alterations to clothing and what material to use for the masks and how he’d probably talk to some of the girls about what they were making theirs with.
“After lunch, I’ll have to get back to the kitchen. Tash and I are getting started on dips and desserts.”
Lance licked his lips, a dreamy expression crossing his face. “If you need a taste-taster…” he offered.
“As head chef, that role falls to me,” Hunk said in a mock-serious tone. Then, lightly, he added, “But I’ll see if there are any dud doughnuts I can bring back for you.”
Lance put his hands together and bowed his head. “Thank you, o’ merciful king.”
“Idiot.” Hunk smiled, grabbing Lance by the shoulder and knuckling his head.
“Hey!”