Based off of a post on tumblr by svenharel where Lance sleeps with Pidge's headphones. So, yeah. I decided to write something for it since it was kind of only a headcanon.
Lance stared up at the ceiling. His eyes were drooping, but every time he closed them, all he could see were the faces of his family. The ones who probably didn't even know he was missing from the entire freaking galaxy.
It had only been a day (sort of; it was hard to tell in space, on a different planet) since Lance had piloted a blue lion into a magical wormhole and ended up on the other side of the universe, but it felt more like an eternity. And worse, there was no going back if he wanted to defend the universe against the Galra.
So here he was, staring at the ceiling of his newly acquired bedroom, not a sound to be heard.
The silence was grating. Back home, he could hear the waves crashing against the shore, the wind, his family chattering as they all prepared for bed, his younger brother's snores from the other side of the room. Just something to soothe him to sleep. But out here on a different planet, there was nothing familiar around him. The room was silent, and Lance hated it.
After a few more minutes agonizing over his inability to lull himself to sleep, even as worn out as he was, he made a dissatisfied noise and rolled out of bed. Staggering to the door, Lance couldn't help but run an exhausted hand down his face.
Man, he was beat. Maybe some water would help.
The kitchen wasn't too hard to find, which was kind of a surprise considering how large the castle was. But Lance found it, and too his shock, it wasn't empty.
"Pidge?" Lance called, peering behind the counter where the floating plates were kept. Just across from the disgusting food goo dispenser.
Pidge let out a strangled yelp, and looked up at Lance. The kid squinted at him. "Lance?" Pidge asked, eyebrows raised, and earphones sliding down to hang around their neck. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night?"
Lance shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Wanted some water. But," he said, elongating the word as he slid down next to Pidge behind the counter, "I think the better question is what are you doing up? Got the midnight munchies?"
Pidge huffed irritably and gestured to the laptop on the ground Lance hadn't noticed before. "No. I was working on something before you came in and scared me."
Lance hummed, interested but not enough to ask about it. Probably some nerd stuff that Lance wouldn't have the attention span to listen to anyways. "Why the kitchen? You really that hooked on that food goo crap?" he asked, because that seemed like an easier question, and one that wouldn't set Pidge into rambling about nerd-stuff mode.
"I don't know," Pidge said. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, don't you have water to get?"
"Yeah," Lance mumbled, but he didn't move. He wasn't stupid, and he knew Pidge just wanted to get back to working on…whatever. And working on that meant not having Lance in the room. Lance wondered if it was because he annoyed Pidge, or if it was just because he wasn't as smart.
After a beat too long, Pidge glanced at him, expression softening. Lance didn't know what his expression looked like, but based on Pidge's reaction, it probably wasn't too good.
"Lance? Are you alright? You're really not acting like yourself."
"I'm fine," Lance said, the words automatically spilling from his mouth as he turned his face away from his friend.
He didn't know why he was trying to hide this. None of them—or at least, Pidge and Hunk—were doing good being so far away from home. Lance could tell by the way Hunk got more nervous than usual, and clingier—which Lance was fine with. Hunk was like a giant teddy bear. The only evidence Lance needed from Pidge was the fact that the nerd set up in the kitchen here when they were all supposed to be asleep.
And Lance? Well, Lance wasn't doing too well, either.
"It's just…It's really quiet, you know?" Lance asked, still not facing Pidge.
Pidge made a noncommittal noise, but didn't say anything. The two of them stayed quiet for a moment before Lance decided he'd overstayed his welcome—well, he did that often, but this time he was feeling a bit guilty about it. Despite what people liked to say about him, Lance could take a hint, and Pidge obviously wanted to get back to work without Lance hovering.
He pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going back to bed," he announced.
"Oh," Pidge said, and Lance risked a glance to catch the uncomfortable look shot his way. "What about your water?"
Lance waved it off. "It'll probably just make it harder to go to sleep, 'cause then I'll have to pee."
Snorting, Pidge turned to face him, face serious despite the amused noise. "You're having trouble sleeping? Because there aren't any sounds you're familiar with, right?"
Lance raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out where Pidge was going with this. Then he smirked. "Oh, are you worried about me, Pidge? Don't concern yourself over me. Trust me, I look this good even after pulling an all-nighter."
Pidge scoffed at him, but then tugged at the headphones, holding them out to Lance when they were free of their neck. Lance just stared at them, not sure why Pidge was offering them to him.
After a full minute of just staring at each other, Pidge's gaze turned towards the floor. "If you want, you can take these. So you have something to listen to while you're trying to go to sleep."
Lance blinked, slowly reaching out and taking the headphones from the other's grasp. "You're just giving them to me?"
"It's a loan," Pidge grumbled. "And just at night. I need them during the day."
Breaking out into a smile, Lance laughed, relief and gratefulness bubbling up in his stomach. "Hey, thanks Pidge! This'll be awesome!"
Lance gave Pidge one more "thanks so much!" before he headed back to his room. Once there, he foraged the drawers for a face mask and put both the mask and headphones on, relaxing once he heard the familiar music pulsing through the ear pieces.
When he woke up the next day, he felt great. And it was all thanks to Pidge.
I'm lanceaboo on tumblr (voltron side blog at least).
