Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the upcoming chapters! These are the already planned first moments

1. Lance and Hunk having a cooking bonding moment after a rough mission

2. Lotor trying to convince Lance he's a good guy and finding out Lance is a mess-

3. Coran giving Lance a checkup after the Omega Shield incident

4. Shiro and Lance go in a mission and Shiro learns Lance likes weird plants

5. Zarkon meets Lance face to face after he got captured by some Galra officers-

Also! Tags say Lance is Half-Altean, in here Lance's dad was Altean and never told him- Allura does find out without Lance knowing though- Keith is full Galra but can cover it up and look human whenever he wants. Shiro is half Galra after a bunch of experiments, Kuron does exist here and is apart of Shiro, in mind and body of course and is sort of adopted as the unable sibling of the group-

Chapter Text

Hey so! It’s taking a while to write because I do a bunch of stuff but I promise I will have a chapter posted this month! It’s just taking a while to get the good inspiration and phrasing since I’m Spanish native speaker, so, that also means that when I post a chapter, it won’t exactly have good writing quality or maybe grammar even.
That being said, please don’t get upset at how long it takes me to write!

Chapter Text

Lance stared at the controls of Blue, some of the buttons and levers had some of the blood he had on him, a lot of galra blood, he held so tight to the levers, just as he held his rifle a while ago, he was beginning to panic and that was why he was flying back to the castle so fast, he wanted to get rid of the blood, of the germs, of the queasy nauseous feeling in his stomach and most of all, of everything that had happened in the mission.

He had already landed in the hangar, simply sitting on the seat of the cockpit, he could feel his stomach doing somersaults and whatever he had left in his stomach try to crawl up his throat. 

The sound of Blue's engines died down and the silence of the hangar was a stark contrast to the chaos that still lingered in Lance's mind. He sat frozen, hands gripping the levers, as if reluctant to let go of the only thing that had kept him grounded during the mission. The metallic scent of blood and sweat clung to him, making his stomach churn further.

Just as he was about to lose his composure completely, the cockpit hatch creaked open, and Hunk's deep voice rumbled in. "Hey, Lance, you okay in there?" Lance hesitated, unsure if he could give an answer without losing it, Hunk's concerned expression greeted him as he turned and Lance forced a weak smile, “why wouldn’t I be alright? I’m all peachy here!” He said back, Hunk clearly didn’t believe it by the way his gaze lingered on Lance's face before he nodded and offered a gentle hand. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up, I’ve got something that'll help you take your mind off the whole shit that happened." He gestured toward the castle, but Lance's legs felt like lead. Without a word, Hunk climbed into the cockpit and helped Lance out, his massive frame a steady presence as he guided Lance toward the exit. "You know what they say, cooking's therapeutic," Hunk said, his tone light, trying to coax a bit of humor out of Lance, only managing to get a small laugh from him, that was more than enough.

As they walked, Lance's gaze drifted to his hands, still smeared with Galra blood. He felt a wave of revulsion wash over him, and Hunk's grip on his shoulder tightened. "We'll get you scrubbed clean in no time. And then, we'll cook up something worth forgetting this mess."

Hunk waited outside of Lance’s room bathroom, sitting on the floor, while Lance was in the shower, unbeknownst to him, Lance was scrubbing hard his hands, even with all the blood gone, he wanted to get rid of any little remain, any little bit or possible thing from that blood that could get in his system and make him sick- he leaned against the shower wall as he felt more bile crawl up his throat but forced it down, not vomiting this time, he wasn’t sick at all. As he was done and stepped out of the bathroom, he was met with a sudden change of clothes landing against his face, Hunk had thrown a shirt and pants towards him so he could get dressed quickly, he noticed how red Lance’s hands were but didn’t utter a word, “dress up dude, we need to make dinner soon or we’ll have Pidge on our ass” he said. Lance didn’t waste time because he knew how Pidge could be when they were hungry, or how Keith could also be-

Once in the kitchen, both comfortable in other clothing, Hunk handed Lance an apron and they began prepping vegetables. The familiar rhythm of chopping and sizzling seemed to calm Lance's frazzled nerves slightly, while Hunk worked beside him, their movements synchronized as they cooked, both used to this with how many times Lance’s mom had Hunk help in the kitchen every past summer.

The sizzle of onions and garlic filled the air, mingling with the scent of herbs, slowly overpowering the metallic tang that still clung to Lance's skin. As they worked, Hunk kept up a steady stream of gentle banter, nudging Lance's elbow with his own, and Lance found himself smiling, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly, all while he also nudged Hunk back on the ribs, getting him to laugh too, from time to time they would throw a bit of seasoning to each other. "Hey, don't chop those onions too fine, or they'll burn before they caramelize," Hunk said, his deep voice a soothing presence. Lance looked down at the cutting board, his fingers moving on autopilot as he tried to focus on the task. "Yeah, yeah, got it," he muttered, his voice a little stronger now, “you know already this is how mamá taught me to cut these, she even taught you too!” Lance retorted while giving Hunk a shove with the hips, who just laughed slightly and shoved back, “and? That doesn’t changes that this recipe is different, aaaand you’ll end up burning the onions if they’re that fine” Hunk shot back.

The kitchen was warm, the heat from the stovetop and the comforting aromas wrapping around Lance like a hug. For a moment, the horrors of the mission receded, replaced by the simple, tactile pleasure of cooking. As they slid a perfectly roasted chicken onto the counter, Lance felt a tiny spark of satisfaction ignite within him. Hunk nudged him with an elbow. "See? Told you cooking would help." Lance's smile grew, still tentative but genuine. Maybe, just maybe, he'd make it through this after all.