spacebaloney | » in space, everybody can hear you scream

If they're making you feel bad, they need to be told about it.

[You know, just like he ended up telling Pidge that calling him names made him feel bad. Sometimes they just don't know how things that are said hit.

Lance shakes his head at the notion of being paid back.]

Consider it me spending the rent money before I give it to you.

[And then he begins stroking his chin which does not bode well for Shiro.]

Shiro, are you sure you want to go back to black? I mean, the new growth is going to be really obvious and there's a ton of other colors out there to try that'll blend a little better.

Really, it's fine. I'm fine.

[Shiro don't say that, you can't say that to anyone in this house.]

[He looks ready to protest. But ends up shaking his head. If this is their compromise? Then so be it.]

Okay. Okay, it's a deal.

[Is he sure he wants to go to black? Of course he is. Can you imagine the look on everyone's face? It'd be great. But... there's a reason he called Lance in here.]

I'm guessing by that tone in your voice you have a suggestion?

If you were fine, you wouldn't be in here with an empty box of dye and a mess on your head.

[And somehow Lance manages to say the absolute truth with the most love and respect in his tone as humanly possible. It's a gift. Also a responsibility to call Shiro out on his "I'm fine" bullshit whenever possible.]

You've been rocking white for so long, don't you think it's time for a change? I mean, everybody's expecting you to be boring old reliable Shiro when you show up to Matt's thing. Why not throw them for a loop?

[Still stroking his chin, Lance leans closer into Shiro's personal space, looking rather discriminating about potential hair colors.]

How about blue? That'll really make an impression around Matt's coworkers.

[Of course he's going to suggest blue.]

Edited 2018-09-18 11:47 (UTC)

I'm... attempting to be fine. Without dragging the whole house into this.

[Like a lot of other things, actually. Which he may or may not have admitted to while Lance was on anon over the network. Not that he's aware of. Either way, it's his relationship, his hair, he should handle it.]

[Until this happens.]

Because it's not about me. I'm there as his support. [Read: Arm Candy.] Attracting attention is the opposite of what I'm trying to do here.

[What is personal space, he has pokemon.]

Blue's your color.

You know, a lot of us wouldn't mind being dragging into things that concern you. Something something about caring about our friend, something something.

[They did have this conversation before, but aside from Pidge, Lance hasn't admitted that he was the anonymous poster on the network yet and he might not do so for a while now. He's still working out on some issues that'll take time to tackle.]

No one says you can't do both. Besides, as Arm Candy, you have to make an impression. There are no other options. [Oh yeah, Lance is totally calling Shiro out on that implication. Who does this guy think he's fooling?] Impressions mean everything and just because Matt is surrounded by nerds all night long doesn't mean his boyfriend can show up looking like a dork too. Gotta give his coworkers some hope that they too can score one day.

[Lance frowns upwards, directing the expression to Shiro's bangs.]

And black's boring. It's a Garrison regulation color and none of us are under the thumb of the Garrison anymore. Live a little, Shiro. There's fifty million shades of blue. There's red, green, yellow... and purple, but I don't think you'd go for that one.

[Now his frown changes into a purse of his lips and then a grin that says hey, someone has a great idea.]

You know what? Why not go rainbow?

[Oh cool, just make the guy a walking LGBT symbol.]

I know, I know... some things... I just gotta work out myself.

[Some things like doggedly trying to be the opposite of everything he'd been the last time he'd been with someone. This includes, apparently, looking presentable at this party. Event. Thing.]

Did you just call me arm candy? That doesn't even -- how does that make sense? [Shiro just roll with it.] And I don't look like a nerd. Always.

[No, he looks like a hobo beach dad. But that's far beside the point. He really was hoping to keep the focus off himself here. There's definitely a grimace at the suggestion of "purple" though -- which results in a muted, scandalized "GEn!!" from Haunter. Somewhere.]

Yeah... no. We're not doing purple. I'd rather not stare at that all day, thanks.

[Nailed it, Lance. The suggestion of a "rainbow" though -- he's about to challenge it. It's too much, it's too flashy, too much work. These thoughts are clearly bouncing around in his brain for a good few moments. Looking at Lance. Then toward the bathroom door.]

[Recalling that Never Have I Ever game...]

Can you do that?

Well, that's what you're gonna be at Matt's event. His boyfriend, his plus one, his arm candy. Just accept this is your lot in life for that night and everything will fall into place. You look enough like a nerd that I'm concerned about what you're gonna wear to this thing. Promise me you won't wear your Otter Space t-shirt.

[The focus will be on Shiro whether or not he wants it once Matt introduces him as his boyfriend. And Lance knows Matt will. That nerd has no shame and to be honest, with a guy like Shiro, why should he?]

I can do anything hair related if you just let me. You forgot I have two sisters and a stoner brother?

[And a penchant for making his own hair look damn good. Put your trust in Lance, Shiro. He will not steer you wrong.]

Just give me an hour to run to the store and get some things. In the meantime... [Another frown, this one much more disgusted.] ...put on a hat or something. You'll scare the Voltorb babies.

Stop saying arm candy. It's weird. [Like Jean calling him Sugar Dad.] Look, I'm fine with them knowing who I am, and that we're together. But pushing that any more isn't something I want to do.

[Someone does not realize what Lance already knows. Chalk it up to the amount of times he's been to a party like this as someone's date -- at least, recently.]

I knew about your sister, but not the rest. Your sister and your hair.

[That's why they have such high water bills.]

Are you sure you don't need any extra funds for it? You're really doing me a favor here, it's the least I can do. [Don't worry though, Lance. Haunter has your back. A ghostly hand appears in the air.]

[And slowly lowers this hat onto Shiro's head.]

You're weird.

[But he'll stop saying it, though Lance is sure as hell going to keep implying it until Shiro gets it through his thick skull. This is a big event and it matters what those attached to Matt will look like. Lance just knows these things.]

Nope. I'm good. I worked a few double shifts this week, so it's fine. Besides, the lady at the beauty supply store has a thing for me, so discounts come easy.

[Lance winks, but he wouldn't if he knew the truth that the beauty supply lady was a hardcore lesbian and only gave him discounts because he shopped there three times a week.

Suddenly a purple hand descends upon Shiro's head with a baseball cap. The logo on it is expected, but still Lance laughs.]

Thanks, Haunter. What would we do without you? [Sleep a lot less, really.] I'll be back in a little bit.

Yep. Pretty much.

[Not even going to fight it at this point. Or the "arm candy" thing. It's coming. And as long as Lance doesn't pop out of a bush yelling BONE during a big moment, he'll live.]

Does she now? Should I be giving her a look? Out of... leaderly concern?

[He's mostly kidding. He wouldn't actually do that even if the Lesiban Discount Queen were into Lance in any capacity.]

[This teasing is mostly muted by the fact the hat slips over his eyes.]

We'd sleep about an hour a night, again. [Can't even lie.] I'll be here.

Please don't. You're not allowed to cockblock me just like Pidge isn't allowed to hack my stuff.

[Just stay home, Shiro. Especially with that hot mess on your head.

Lance leaves the house and comes back in a little over an hour, two bags in hand filled with a random assortment of cosmetics in one and a few groceries in the other. Once he sets them down on the kitchen table, he texts Shiro to come on in.]

hey i'm back
in the kitchen

I'm gonna try. Just watch me.

[No, he won't. He absolutely won't. But it's funny to imply it. Just tease him a little. Hopefully Lance knows he's kidding.]

[Right?]

[He probably spent the better part of that hour in the bathroom still. Trying to salvage some of the mess. But let's be real, this guy has not done a damn thing with hair except clean and cut it.]

[It's not long before he carefully pokes his head into the room, looking around. To make sure there's no one else there.]

Thanks for this.

[Once Shiro shows up, the bags have been emptied out onto the table. There's a rainbow line up of silver tubes, each with a different color name on the label, a handful of packets of hair bleach, a bottle of developer, a bowl and tinting brush, a plastic cape, a rattail comb, and a box of plastic gloves. Out of the other bag there's an avocado, a bottle of honey, and two jars--one of mayonnaise and the other coconut oil. This place can double as a salon by the looks of things.

Lance is bopping around the kitchen, grabbing the box of aluminum foil and a roll of paper towels before pointing to a chair, indicating Shiro needs to sit down so they can get things rolling.]

Hey, you're my friend, not just my leader. If I let you leave the house with hair like that, do you know what that'll do to my reputation? I can't have that.

[This is a lot more than he ever expected to see upon walking into the room. The dye is sort of expected, after all. But the rest? Mystifying. What the heckis that bottle? Why the tin foil? And the food? None of this makes sense to the guy whose salon visits were a quick run with a pair of electric clippers.]

... are you making a sandwich first?

[Look he won't judge you for a mayo-avo-honey sandwich Lance but uh. Maybe put some protein in there or something, buddy. Come on. What purpose could those serve for hair?]

[He will sit, though. Hesitantly.]

I could just wear a hat for the rest of my life. Maybe.

Edited 2018-09-19 23:50 (UTC)

Uh, no? [Lance frowns and then realizes that the spread would look strange to someone who is convinced box dyes work. He shakes his head and smiles.] Nah, it's to make a hair mask for you. After I strip that crap from your head and redye it, you're gonna need it.

[If Lance is lucky, Shiro's hair won't melt right off his scalp. He's done this before, twice when Rachel didn't learn her lesson the first time, and came out successful on the other side. But that was regular hair. Not trauma induced whitened hair. This may be a completely different animal here.

But he's never backed down from a challenge, even in the face of potential failure, so once Shiro sits, Lance is draping the plastic cape around those too damn broad shoulders. It barely fits. One size fits all, his ass.]

No, you couldn't. You're already a fashion disaster with those boxers of yours. Have some shame.

[Once again, Lance says this lovingly and without a drop of malice in his tone. And if that didn't show how he's just teasing, his gentle fingers that dip into the jar of coconut oil and massages some all over Shiro's hair should. He takes his time, making sure every strand is coated because the bleach is going downtown to battle against that box dye and Shiro is the battlefield.]

Oh. I thought masks were for faces. [He really, really did. And that? Mostly because of Lance.] Is it really that bad?

[His hair. Is it really that bad? He has no idea what's going to happen. If he goes bald? Well. Maybe there's a convenient wig or something. Maybe he can do that and not embarrass his boyfriend too much. Hopefully Matt will understand.]

[One hand idly tugs at the cape. Just a little. To see if he can pull it down a bit more. No such luck.]

Okay, but no one sees my underwear. Except Matt. And he likes them.

[So there. At least, so there, in his head. He knows it's not from malice, or anything like that. But he'll give it right back, too.]

[And then there are hands in his hair. And oh. Wow. That. That is something incredible. He sort of stops mid-sentence. His eyes going wide. And his shoulders going slack. No words. Just stunned silence. Maybe he should have asked for this a long time ago.]

They are. But there's some for the hair too. Think of a hair mask as a souped up conditioner. You do use conditioner, don't you? [Lance is suspicious about what haircare Shiro uses. He wouldn't be surprised if the guy just rubbed bar soap on it and called it a day.] And it's not that bad... yet. Bleach can wreck your hair on a good day and since we're pulling out the box dye, it has to work even harder.

[He sucks his teeth in response to Shiro's argument.]

And I've seen your underwear and I don't like them.

[Unfortunately for Shiro, the oil massage doesn't last much longer. But they'll get back to that later. For now, Lance steps aside to mix up the bleach with the developer in the little bowl and pulls on a pair of gloves, showing off by snapping the edge against his wrist loudly.]

Ready?

Huh. You teach me new things every day. [No joke, there.] And yes, I do. I hate how it feels when I don't. [Granted, it's usually the cheap dollar store brand conditioner, but he does try. That's part of cleaning your hair, right?] Maybe you should get into this professionally. There's a salon Armin and I went to in town.

[And the hairdresser had flirted so hard with an oblivious dorito she'd cut most of Armin's hair off.]

I'll be sure to wear more embarrassing ones then.

[He may or may not make a vaguely annoyed noise when the head-rubs stop. Come on man, don't hold out on him like that. It's rude.]

As I'll ever be.

[A little thrill of joy runs through Lance at that statement. Him, teaching the great record-breaking and setting Shiro something new? It's a nice feeling, but Lance tucks any obvious reaction to it deep inside in case it's just part of their ongoing banter. It'll be far too embarrassing to take it as a real compliment when Shiro is possibly just lightly teasing.]

Okay, I'll bribe Blue to take pictures of them so I can get Pidge to make a website for your gross collection.

[At the career path suggestion, Lance shakes his head as he parts Shiro's bangs into thin sections, brushing on the creamy bleach mixture. It smells bad, but there's no room for complaining when it's the only thing that'll work.]

I'd need a license. That'll take forever.

[Possibly a couple of years of schooling at least. He's afraid to plan that far ahead of him, especially here. If the last year has taught Lance anything is that his life plans tend to get tossed out of airlocks at any chance the universe has. Besides, he'll love to try something and actually be good at it and not have someone else move into the house and beat him at his own game. Lance can see Jean already knows how to wield a mean jar of hair gel, so maybe that guy's got the coffee and hair-styling field already covered.

In other words, Lance's esteem can't take another hit like he's already gotten in the coffee game. He might as well just give up and become a full-time slacker.]

[Oh buddy, if you only knew the depth of the things this guy does not actually know, you'd be floored. Ace pilot? Sure. Record-holder? Sure. Gardener? Heck no. Chef? Not on your life. The list goes on. So he means it, genuinely.]

Blue wouldn't dare. He'd be grounded.

[So there.]

[He's quiet for a while, letting Lance work. But watching him, all the same. It still feels pretty good, someone working his hair over like this. Even that small part.]

You sure? Things might be different here. Plus... you wouldn't have to go so far every day.

[You bet he's still concerned about that whole commute, buddy. He knows Lance can probably handle it just fine, nothing's going to happen to him on the route. But that much back and forth every day has to wear on a person. Doesn't it?]

[Well, the cooking was a given after the Great Pasta Salad Disaster, but when a guy's been your school's collective hero for so long, someone like Lance just assumes there's more in that brain that just flying and fighting.]

You can ground him, but I'll totally bust him out.

[This is the second person who's brought up how long of a commute Lance has to get to work. Keith phrased it as "dedication", but it was obvious what he really meant. And yes, it does wear on Lance. Maybe no one's noticed that he leaves the house before dawn without eating breakfast in order to catch the ferry on time so he doesn't miss the transfer to the next one, only managing to grab something from the Starmiebucks pastry case and wolfing it down before he clocks in. The return trip is just as tiring, now with all the tourists crowding the ferries back and Lance never bets on getting a seat. By the time he gets home, he's ready for bed while the rest of the house is still hopping and hanging out, connecting in a way he feels left out of. The double shift days are even worse and those are the days he just comes home and crashes out in his bed just to repeat it in a few hours. Training his Pokemon requires more time than he has on hand and so he's not a good trainer in his eyes. To Lance, his nose is solid proof of that. But what else can he do? Doing a friend's hair in the kitchen is one thing. Attempting to make a go at it professionally is another.

He works quietly for a moment before mumbling a few words, sounding already dejected at the prospect of another failure in his book.]

Besides, Jean'll probably find a way to make a mobile salon and ruin that for me too.

[We don't talk about the Pasta Salad Disaster. He thought it went okay. Sasha and Krieg liked it.]

You wouldn't. He'd join up with a Rotom and get my arm possessed again.

[And then Kuro would declare open season on all Rotoms all over again. Which was not a mess Shiro wanted to get off the ground a second time, thank you very much.]

[When Lance stays quiet, so does he. Watching him work. Wondering what's going through his head. He looks pensive, but that could be the work ahead of him. Could be concentration. But honestly? It doesn't look like when Lance is engaged in something -- he's not sticking his tongue out, for one thing. Had he hit the nail on the head there? Was the commute as bad as it sounded?]

[It's the statement that hurts. Turns his expression from pleased to concerned in less time than it takes Lance to say it aloud.]

Lance. Why would Jean ruin -- [Mobile. It clicks.] -- He's setting up in front of your shop. Isn't he?

[Lance just shrugs, just before moving towards the sink to rinse the rest of the bleach down the sink. It's a yes without saying so. He doesn't think he has the actual right to tell Jean to stop, even though his wimpy manager keeps sending Lance over to do his dirty work, especially when Lance is just a lowly employee up against an inventive entrepreneur.

And the customers love Jean. It's an indie and creative shop, something Lance would appreciate had it not encroached on his supposed territory, taking what little spotlight he managed to grab for himself by treating every person that walked in like they were his personal friend. Every time the shop parks right outside the store, Starmiebucks loses a few more customers, bleeding out those "personal friends" and inside it feels like Lance is losing a useful spot in the household and at work. Jean's coffee is fresher, more personalized, and people find being served by Pokemon inventive and charming. Lance knows Shiro and Matt love Jean's blend. He can't compete, so he stopped bringing home any extra bags of Starmiebucks coffee and even the leftover pastries. It feels like a giant waste of time to Lance, especially when he has to live with the guy the general public thinks is cooler and avant-garde. Whatever Jean serves has won its rightful place on the counter next to the coffeemaker.]

The bleach needs to process for thirty minutes.

[It's not a clear answer to Shiro's question, but what else is there to say? Yes, Jean parks in front of his shop. Yes, Jean steals all his customers. Yes, Shiro, the coffee you drink is the kind only Jean can produce and Lance knows it. The guy probably takes a perverse joy in making Lance miserable, knowing he has to come home and share the house with someone who's been here longer and made a name for himself. But hey, when you're cool and the winner, that's just a perk you earn.]

Lance.

[It's firmer. He's the king of avoiding conversations. Avoiding talking about things that are bothering him. You can't talk your way around someone this used to doing the same thing. It's just not possible. He figures he shouldn't stand up, while this "processing" happens. So he turns in the chair. Facing him.]

Come on. Talk to me. [Now, instead of firm, it's a little pleading. He wants to help. These two mean the world to him -- in wildly different ways, but neither of them is in any competition with the other. Not for him.] You know he didn't know it was yours... right?

[Not at first. But surely Jean didn't go back there. Did he? Or did Shiro miss something? Has this been going on even after Jean found out who Lance was? The guy Shiro told him about? Specifically because they were a lot alike?]

[He watches Lance's back. He wants to text Jean right here. Ask him to at least back off that particular shop. But would that really help? His fingers twitch for his 'gear.]

It's really bothering you, isn't it?

[As long as Shiro doesn't stand up, Lance can keep his back turned to him and continue trying to avoid this impending conversation. Scrubbing at the little plastic bowl long after the bleach has swirled down the drain, he doesn't know what to say that doesn't sound like the song of a whiner. Just like that guy on the network called him. A whiner.

Well, maybe the one thing Lance is good at is whining.

In the end, it doesn't matter if Jean did or didn't know it was his shop. It still happened, it happened more than once, and Lance was just reminded of how much he lacks in skills and talents. A hard reminder too. With Keith, it was easier to deal with since Keith didn't really give into Lance's poking and no matter what, they still needed Lance to fly Blue. But Jean bites back. And so does Robbie. And there's no Voltron here so in the end, there's no need to keep Lance around. Like he told Shiro already: everybody else has their person and place in this world, in this house. Shiro has Matt and Keith. Now the addition of Jean makes that knowledge a little more bitter.

Honestly, Lance doesn't know a thing about Jean. Doesn't know where he's from, what he's all about. Doesn't even know how much they're alike. But then again, no one in this place keeps Lance in the actual loop. All Lance knows is that on the totem pole of people in this household, he's at the bottom rung and Jean is sitting pretty at the top.]

I forgot to get shampoo.

[God, does it bother him. He doesn't even know where begin describing how going to work is an even bigger drag now, an anxiety triggering thing wondering if today his branch will be the one Jean comes to antagonize. But Lance can't speak the words stuck in his throat, the ones that want to admit that he knows his shortcomings all too well and sometimes just wants to give up trying when he knows he's just going to get nowhere, so he just turns quickly, trying to bypass Shiro and head down to his room.]

» in space, everybody can hear you scream

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