Chapter Text
Second bell had already rung and Lance had just gotten to school, his hair hidden under his black beanie, the chill of the outside air making the metal in his lip and ears burn with cold. The one day he decided not to skip class and the second he closed his locker, the captain of the school football team grabbed him by the collar of his flannel and slammed him back against his locker, the air rushing out of his lungs as his stuff fell to the title floor, his bag falling off his arm as well. Of course, why would a bully act alone, the captain's companions leaned in on either side of him, within arm's reach.The captain shoved him to the floor, his companions kicking Lance’s belongings so they scattered across the hallway. Towering over him, the captain kicked Lance in the ribs, his voice bellowing in Lance’s ears.
“No one wants you here faggot!” The companions only joined in on the kicks, causing Lance to curl into a defensive ball, covering his neck and head as best he could, the insults just kept coming. Unsure of how long this was going to continue, Lance glanced up in surprise as the captain was left stumbling to the ground from a well placed blow. The blow had come from none other than Keith Kogane, his more or less rival in every class, especially gym. Picking himself up, his arm across his stomach to try and ease the pain, Lance was relieved that the trio decided they were done and heading to class. Keith began picking up the books and scattered paper in silence, handing them to Lance when everything was collected. Lance put them away and forced himself to speak, trying not to sound pained.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” Keith shifted and stuck his hands in the pockets of his maroon hoodie. “
We’re already late for class. Up for skipping with me?” Lance couldn’t help but do a slight double take, blinking in surprise. “
You? Skip? Since when?” Keith’s expression shifted to one of amusement.
“Yeah. And I smoke pot too. Are you coming or not?” Walking out of the building, Keith left Lance to shove his books back into his locker before he followed, having to walk quickly for a few paces in order to catch up.
The pair decided on going back to the apartment Keith shared with Shiro. Lance had always been fond of the taller male but whether it was more than a liking, Lance would never admit. He doubted Shiro even knew who he was. Granted Shiro, being the straight A student he was, was currently in class. Keith, having locked the door behind them and gestured to one of the couches,
“Make yourself comfortable. If you’d like to join me with a bowl I’ll load one and I’ll be in the bathroom, easier to vent out and keep from spreading elsewhere. Plus the fans. Also. Shiro doesn’t need to know.” Lance, grinning at the last bit, took off his beanie and shoved it into his pocket his hair fluffing up into a mess.
“Alright. I guess I’ll just follow you then. But please tell me you have snacks, munchies kill me Mullet.”
Within two hours the boys were stoned stupid and passed out in the bathroom. Keith, partially smoked bowl and pipe in hand, was passed out in the tub with his legs draped over the side and Lance well, Lance was passed out next to him. After four bowls and a ridiculous giggle fit, the two had downed 5 bags of popcorn, which were in the tub with them, and proceeded to pass out as the second side effect hit them.
Shiro had gotten home shortly after school. He was more than a little annoyed at the absence of Keith but maybe surprised that both Keith and Lance hadn't been in their gym class. Most of the students found the competitions to be comical. Going through his normal routine when returning home, he dropped his bag on the couch and headed for the bathroom. Knocking first and getting no reply, Shiro staggered at the scent of pot when he opened the door. Seeing the two teenagers all but dead and covered in popcorn pieces, he deadpanned, mumbling, “These shits passed out and I have to pee.” Walking, well...jogging, to his room and back, Shiro grabbed a marvelous thing. Possibly one of the best things invented. Especially for scaring those who've passed out into a very sober state.
Opening the bathroom door again, Shiro secured a piece of duct tape over the press button and yelled “Grenade!” At the top of his lungs as the compressed air screamed out of the can, landing between Keith and Lance’s legs.
Keith, entire body jerking, screamed in terror, his pitch matching that of an angry three year old. Lance, jerking a bit harder than Keith, moved his head up only to have thwack against the back of the tub, his hands flying up to his head, which also happened to cause a bag of popcorn to fly across their laps. Panting from his awakening, Keith grabbed the air horn and ripped off the tape.
“Shiro! Ohmygod! Are you trying t-...oh...shit..heeey.” Shiro, who was currently doubled over laughing and clutching his stomach, flipped on the switch for the bathroom fan.
“We can talk about it in a minute. But. You two need to get out before I piss myself.” His voice was broken up between laughter. Lance, face going a little red at the cheeks, pushed himself up and out of the tub, rubbing the back of his head as he carefully squeezed by Shiro.
“S’cuse me.” Keith collected up his pipe and scurried out behind Lance. Shiro, beaming with amusement and speaking light heartedly as he collected himself, though still fighting not to chuckle.
“You're excused Lance.” He closed and locked the door behind him, having to raise his voice, “You're both gonna clean up all this damn popcorn later!” Having to do a double take, Lance forced himself not to let his jaw drop. Shiro knew his name. Shiro knew who he was. Holy shit had his day been made. Going back to the living room, he plopped onto the couch, Keith sitting next to him.
When Shiro came back out, both boys had sobered up and calmed down, Lance sitting with an ankle resting on his knee, Keith sitting similarly but with his arms resting against the back of the couch. Keith had a look that resembled a guilty puppy whereas Lance just focused intently on the floor. Shiro had broken the silence, his eyes catching on developing bruises near Lance's cheek and the silver hoops in his lower lip.
“Why'd you decide to skip today Keith?” Shoving his hands in his red hoodie, Keith hoped to hide his darkening knuckles.
“Lance needed a hand. Figured the pot would help him with the pain for a while. He was ganged up on by the football teams captain. Again.” Lance’s hand subconsciously wrapped over his side, Keith was right, he wasn't hurting, not yet at least. Shiro’s expression shifted from stern to concerned as he looked over Lance.
“Let me see.” It was more a gentle demand than a question but nonetheless Lance complied. Pulling his hoodie off, Lance’s band shirt followed shortly after, being dropped on the floor as he stood, making it easier on Shiro. Lance looked down at his torso and sides at the same time Shiro and Keith did. He could feel his own face pale at the same time as theirs. His torso was littered with dark purple and yellowing bruises, some ranging from the size of a quarter to the size of a softball. Shiro very gently ran his fingers over Lance’s ribs, causing the smaller male to freeze.
“I'm checking for breaks. Keith, check his back and the back of his ribs.” The only response was the creaking of the couch and a very, very gently touch to his back. Even with them being gentle, it took a lot of control for Lance not to wince or flinch away from their cold finger tips. Shiro’s voice came softly again,
“Keith, anything feel broken?” Keith let out a small breath and relaxed.
“None that I can feel. You?” Shiro’s response was a small shake of his head. Lance relaxed again and carefully grabbed his shirt, slipping it back on. Once his arms lowered again the Cuban man winced a little bit.
Keith sat back on the couch, his arms resting on his knees and cupping his chin in thought. “Lance. Where are you staying? Like home wise.” Shiro caught Keith's eye and gave a small nod of consideration. Lance turned to face him before rubbing his arms a little bit.
“I mostly stay with my mom but I have a lot of younger siblings so I mostly sleep on the couch or floor.” Keith gave a small nod.
“See if you can crash with us for a week or so. Give you time to heal and maybe get rid of that issue of yours.” Lance raised an eyebrow, afraid that Keith may have caught on, “I-issue?” This time Shiro responded.
“The captain of the football team. He needs to be shown that he's not all tough shit.” Lance tried not to seem too relieved but his tone was softer, almost guilty.
“You guys don't have to do that...It's not your problem.” Shiro only grinned.
“Oh don't worry. You're going to get him off your back. He'll be running like a dog with his tail between his legs by the time we're done with you.” Keith nodded and grinned a bit. Lance only looked more concerned.
“What.” Keith gently pressed his knuckles against Lance’s shoulder.
“He means we're gonna put you through some training and you're gonna kick some ass.” Lance ran a hand through his hair, his only thoughts being ‘Oh jeez...what did I get myself into?’
The next couple of days went fairly smoothly. Lance got some clothing moved over to Keith and Shiro’s place and during school the pair followed him around like bodyguards but they felt almost like...well friends. Real friends. People who actually wanted him around, with the bonus of keeping bullies at bay. The end of the second day was going great, Lance had put his stuff back in his locker and closed it, intending on meeting Keith out front but being met with a rather angry looking Vince(Captain of the football team), Lance just took a step back, trying to keep his voice smooth as he spoke.
“Ah, well I’m just gonna be leaving now.” The brown haired male turned to leave as Vince grabbed his shoulder and threw him back against the lockers, gripping Lance’s collar as Lance scrambled to catch his breath, gripping Vince’s arm. The football captain sneered.
“See, they aren’t always going to be around to protect you.” With that, Vince drew his arm back and socked Lance in the mouth before dropping him and walking away.
Tears springing to his eyes, Lance held a hand gingerly over his mouth and nose and made his way outside. Keith looking up from his phone as he saw Lance, shoved his phone in his pocket and ran over to Lance. Gently pulling Lance’s hand away from his face, Keith’s expression turned to one of furry.
“Did Vince hit you!?” Keith’s tone was as angry as his expression as he pulled his phone back out and called Shiro. Only being able to hear part of this, Lance moved his hand back towards his mouth, carefully feeling with his fingertips and tongue but wincing in the process. Oh yeah...His nose was broken and his lip was fat and split straight down the middle. Keith’s hand was clenched into a fist, his arm shaking in anger. “Shiro, I’m gonna kill this bastard…...But. Damnit!.....Fine….I said Fine!...Ok...Ok….See you soon then..” Keith trailed off and ended the call, gently cupping Lance’s cheek to examine him further. “Let's go home. You need to get some ice on that and hopefully we can avoid having to get you stiches…” The pair walked in silence, Keith monitoring Lance's every movement like a paranoid mother. Lance’s nose had stopped bleeding by the time they were back at the apartment. Shiro met them inside, already having the first aid kit set out on the kitchen table. Keith patted his hand on the counter. “Sit.”
Lance backed into the corner and lifted himself onto the counter, his legs resting against cabinet doors. Shiro moved in front of Lance and carefully moved the tanned male's chin in order to see how bad the damage was. His voice a whisper as he spoke
. “We should set your nose...it's gonna hurt.” Lance only gave a small nod, his voice holding a bit of pain.
“Just do it.” Shiro nodded and gently rested his fingers on either side of Lance’s nose. With a quick jerk and the sound of snapping cartilage, Lance bit back a screech of pain, but his nose was set. Groaning a little, Lance carefully rubbed his nose. Blinking away tears, he watched Keith, who had grabbed an ice pack and a butterfly band-aid. Shiro got a washcloth damp with warm water and very carefully cleaned up Lance's lips and nose. His lower lip was tender but no longer bleeding. Keith carefully dabbed Neosporin on the gash and pulled the bandage across the outside of the wound, setting it on the patch of skin connecting Lance's lip and chin. When they finished, Keith handed the ice pack to Lance and let him hold it to his lip on his own.
Lance was more than carefully with the pressure he used but the coolness of the ice was almost blissful against his burning skin. An hour or so had passed before the swelling stopped.