A/N: Yep, another story with these boys! At this point I have nothing to say for myself.

Once again, this is not compliant with Little Graduation, since Lars stays on Earth. You can say this is the counterpart to Those Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head, though I tried to change the formula a bit just so it doesn't get repetitive lmao.

This fic will have two chapters, so the next one will be up this week, hopefully.

Hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER - The story will touch on some criticism towards the Crystal Gems' parenting (especially in the next chapter), but please don't take it as hate! Most of this is told through Steven's perspective, so his frustration is the main focus; still, no character bashing here.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

If his feet burnt like Ruby's, he's sure he would have left a trail of fire behind him.

He sees pink, not red. His eyes are blinded with a cocktail of confusion, loneliness and frustration. His face is beyond stained with already dry tears. It's like he can't listen to anything and anyone around him.

Steven only walks away from the beach, fierce steps close to crushing the ground, all the while he bumps into a few people; whether they're gems or not is beyond him. Nobody stops him.

The boy isn't sure where he's going at all. There are the woods, he faintly recognizes, except he doesn't think he can face Jasper right now – he doesn't want to be reminded of how useless he is by her. Besides, as weird as it might sound for someone so frustrated, he has enough sanity to not want to knock down a tree, not today.

Also, he doesn't want to be found. He's going to think, the gems don't like this. They don't like anything I do.

And here's the thing, he's not angry. Or, well, he's not angry at someone, not anymore at least. He feels… rejected. Left aside. It's always been this way, right? He's always left behind, unless he works through it to prove himself.

(He's so tired of that. Of proving himself every single time. Is he never good enough?)

… So, yeah, the woods are not his destiny tonight.

The sky today isn't peaceful either. Dark clouds begin taking over the colored beauty, as it seeks the vivid sunset, the remaining sunshine rays. Steven half realizes that people are rushing for shelter from the rain, either protecting themselves under their homes or restaurants. He's also hungry, having not eaten anything before things fell apart, yet he doesn't believe he can face everyone else cramped in the same place, asking him questions, overwhelming him. They're not going to understand.

Steven embraces himself; it's what he can do about the storm that's about to engulf the town, besides summon his shield to use as an umbrella, though it's getting cold and dark very fast, and a pink shield is the last thing to guide him through it.

He doesn't want to go home – the storm out here might not be as terrible as the one that should be awaiting him in the house. Either that, or he's going to face his internal tempest all on his own, in his empty home.

So, the teenager keeps going. He walks and walks… the sky has almost lost its color completely to the threatening, dark gray. At this point, Steven only finds houses, no stores or restaurants. He can make it to a couple of them, having lived his entire life in Beach City, really.

For whatever reason, far from his mind right now, one house stands out for him. He stares at it, unsure if he should approach. Would he even be welcome? When he's like this?

Yet when dangerous blasts alarm him, the boy instinctively runs there. The water begins coming down in isolated drops, that would soon gather their forces. Facing the door, Steven shakes his head and takes a few, deep breaths. Thankfully, his pink state fades faster than he expected.

Finally, the teenager knocks. The sound of the wind against the leaves rattles him. Although he's seventeen, he's still not huge on storms.

The opening noise jolts him back to reality, though he's not at all expecting to see a long-haired woman in front of him.

"Oh, Steven! Hello," Lars' mom, Martha, greets him, confused while smiling in politeness.

Right, this isn't just Lars' home. Steven is really just that stupid.

"H-Hi! Hi, Mrs. Barriga," He replies, whilst thinking of a good reason. "I… I was passing by and- I thought I'd check up on Lars?" He sounds far from honest, though all he wants is not give any full details on why he's wandering in the middle of a thunderstorm. Martha seems suspicious, but, much to his relief, she doesn't pry.

"Lars is here, he's just arrived from work. He's taking a shower upstairs."

"Oh…" Steven's face falls. "Oh, okay. Yeah, well, I just wanted to say 'hi', but he probably wants to rest, s-so… I-I should get going—" He begins turning around, despite knowing there's no safe exit.

"What? No, it's dangerous out there! Don't go yet," She exclaims, causing him to look back. "You can stay here until the storm passes."

The boy gapes for a few seconds, only to shake his head. "Wait, no- I don't want to be a bother, seriously."

"You're not a bother, Steven. You're Lars' friend," She reassures him with a sad smile. "And you're always welcome here."

Steven gulps, fearing she might catch his eyes growing deep. He cracks a smile in return, muttering a quiet, grateful, "T-Thank you."

"Honey, who's there?" A male voice asks from somewhere, only for Lars' dad to appear. "Oh, hello, Steven! I didn't know you'd be passing by. Especially not in a weather like this…"

"Uh, I j-just wanted to give you hi! I haven't been here in a while," Steven lies, rubbing the back of his own neck. He doesn't think he has spent that much time with any of the humans in Beach City, now that he reflects on it. The Barrigas even less.

"Right," The man looks as wary as his wife, but he keeps on a lighthearted tone. "Well, come on in! It's good to see you, Steven. I'm sure Lars will be happy to have you here, too."

The boy is guided inside, towards the couch. The house is warm and filled with scents of food. As a result, his stomach starts going haywire.

"Would you like anything?" Martha asks.

"I-I'm fine," Steven reassures, mostly because he doesn't want to be more of an inconvenience. Unfortunately, his stomach betrays him by rumbling as loud as possible. He glares at his belly for a hot second before muttering, "Sorry."

"Don't worry, I've got you covered." She smirks and immediately rushes to the kitchen (perhaps knowing he would protest).

Meanwhile, Dante sits by the armchair near the bookshelf, wearing an amused smile at Steven's stunned silence. Martha is back in no time with a plate of pancakes that look way too delicious for his own good. That, and a mug of what appears to be hot chocolate, are placed on the center table.

"Oh, this… this is really nice," Steven says, unwilling to reject it; not with the smells attracting him. His cheeks warm up in embarrassment. "Thanks."

She grins, expression reminding him of Lars' own. "You're welcome."

Steven silently eats the pancakes and tries hard not to be loudly passionate about it, because holy smokes, are they delicious. He wonders if Martha is one of her son's role models regarding his cooking skills – these are possibly the best pancakes he's ever had.

"Do you like them?" Martha asks, even though she seems to know the answer with the amusement in her tone.

"Mmm, they're so good," Steven approves.

"Indeed, no one can resist her pancakes," Dante comments from afar, causing her to smile bashfully.

Like that, Martha sits on the other corner, and it's as awkward and silent as you'd imagine. He can sense both adults radiating worry with him in the room. They pretend they're not looking, but they are, and it's unsettling (while not annoying, he thinks). Steven did just come barging in their house, so it's not like he can blame them.

They even try starting a conversation, while Lars doesn't come down.

"So, Steven, how have you been?" Dante wonders.

"Good. I've been good."

"Hmm." The most suspicious hum he's heard. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much. The usual, mostly. Helping the gems figure themselves out, explore the Earth. Going on intergalactic reunions and stuff. But lately, I, uh, I'm thinking of doing other things, you know? Other than running Little Homeschool." Steven tries to sum it up as best as he can, without the most… hurtful details.

The man contemplates and nods. "Yes, it's good to figure yourself out."

There's a pause before Martha speaks up, "Do you see Lars' gem friends? I think they study there, too."

"Yeah, I see them often. They're really enjoying themselves."

"I can tell."

There's another wave of silence between them.

"How has Lars been?" Steven wonders for once. "With everything at the school, I haven't seen him too often."

"He's doing just fine. He's been really happy, after opening his own bakery." Martha smiles with pride. "We should thank you for that, if we haven't already."

"Aw, it was nothing, really."

"We mean it," Dante voices. "Our son has grown so much thanks to you."

"He still talks about you," Martha reveals.

Steven is… caught off guard by the comment. "Oh, yeah?"

"He really looks up to you, Steven, and for good reasons. You're a brilliant kid," The man compliments.

For a moment, the boy feels his chest not feeling so tight anymore. It's like it's being filled by a glowing ball as the little things come to him. Steven has never… well, quite thought Lars would admire him this way. Not after… everything.

The Barrigas are all so welcoming, when they have reasons not to be. Steven is the reason why Lars has returned pink at all. Why the adults have suffered so long with the latter's absence. And yet here they are, giving Steven heartwarming pancakes and hot chocolate, as well as heartfelt compliments.

He shouldn't be so overwhelmed by this.

"Well, um… thank you." Steven swallows another piece of the pancake, averting his eyes towards the house itself.

The silence that follows doesn't weigh on him much. It's filled by the sounds of the rain outside, which doesn't sound that much threatening now, despite the occasional thunder noises. Steven takes this as an opportunity to really… appreciate their surroundings. He's never quite admired just how alive the Barrigas' house is. There's a lot of personality, so much color and history, thanks to the many photos that fill the walls and furniture. He finds a couple of young Lars in the living room; he's smiling in one or two.

He's distracted to the point where he almost jumps when Martha reaches the empty plate in front of him.

"Do you want some more?" She offers.

"No, I'm good. Really." He's saying the truth now.

She raises an eyebrow, but gets the plate back, while leaving the mug since Steven hasn't finished it. He holds tight to the cup as a thunder roars out of warning, its warmth going through his veins. Meanwhile, he pays attention to the photos again, for once recognizing that some are Lars' own artwork from long ago, like the ones at the kitchen like he memorized. He finds it nice. It's nice that his parents love their son this way; they show how much they care for him, how talented he is.

There's a more… recent picture standing near the television. In this one, Lars, already pink, is at where appears to be his bakery. He's wearing his star-shaped plugs and he's smiling like he never did before. He looks so happy.

(Is this jealousy?)

There's a tear threatening to fall, and he's quick to dry it once Lars' dad, who has been reading the newspaper, asks, "Do you want me to turn on the TV for you?"

"No, thanks."

The man watches him from afar, and shrugs, eyes back to the paper. Martha returns, glancing at the stairs before going back to them both.

"Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"No, it's fine… I'm fine."

While they try not to make it apparent, he catches the worried eye signs they share with one another. Dante stands up soon after that.

"We're going upstairs, but Lars should be coming down soon," She informs him. "If you boys need us, don't hesitate to call us, alright?"

"O-Okay. Um…" Steven gulps. "Th-Thanks again. For having me."

They both smile at him. "You're always welcome, Steven."

With a last little wave from Lars' dad, they leave him be. Once they're out of sight, he lets go of the breath he didn't realize he's been holding for all this time.

The hot chocolate ends. In contrast, the rain won't stop, gaining force at each minute. He looks at the window behind him, and the view is frightening, to say the least; it's almost like a horror movie. A thunder roars, causing him to jump, and he almost wishes Martha and Dante came back.

Not letting go of the empty cup in his hands, Steven stares at the multitude of colors and love and appreciation in the walls, water almost blinding his eyes again. He sure is a complete mess today. A sigh comes out of him, when he reaches his pocket and grabs his phone. There are a couple messages that he doesn't bother reading. He already knows what they say, and he practically feels pink burning his cheeks.

But almost simultaneously, footsteps come down the stairs, and Steven strives to swallow it back. Just with a mere glance, the boy recognizes his tall, pink friend. Lars is wearing a dark, nearly black sweater he's never seen, as well as dark blue pants. His bright pink hair remains a bit wet from the shower.

"Hey, Steven! Mom and Dad told me you were here," Lars greets him warmly. "Did they cocoon you too much?"

Steven forces out a little laugh. "Ha, not really. Your mom did give me a handful of pancakes, though. It's cool."

"Oh, man, her pancakes are my weakness."

The younger doesn't reply, if not for a weak smirk. Lars seems to keep a watchful eye on him as well. Is being so observant in their blood?

"So, what's up?" Lars wonders, noting his silence. "You good?"

"I-I'm good. It's good. I, uh… came here to see how you were doing."

"Oh, I'm great, thanks. What about you? You've been busy lately, right?"

"Yeah, it's just Little Homeschool. But I think I'm…" Steven clears his throat. "I'm going to quit running it sometime. It's been, I dunno. Too much for me."

Lars hums. Yeah, he's not buying it. Like his parents, he doesn't question it.

"Okay, so… I'm gonna bake some cupcakes for the pastry shop now. If you wanna join," Lars proposes.

"Y-You, um, you don't mind?"

"'Course not, dude. You can help me if you want." The older grins.

"Oh, uh… sure, yeah!" Steven feels like he should be focusing on something else rather than his own thoughts.

He follows Lars to the kitchen and so work begins. The pink boy provides them both two aprons, filled with many stars. Basically, Lars instructs Steven most of the time since he hasn't baked in a long while. The latter grabs the ingredients when the former has his hands full, and it's pretty much like that for the next twenty minutes or so.

Other than questions on the cupcakes they're aiming for, Steven doesn't talk. Rather than asking him why he's so quiet, Lars tries to start a conversation, telling him about the times the Off Colors baked together with him, the first occasions leading to disaster; like the day they faced the feared baklava Lars mentioned so long ago.

While not exactly vocal in the conversation, Steven does try to imagine the Off Colors doing things like these together. Dirtying themselves with frosting, sugar, flour. Laughing together. Failing but never on their own. Just them dedicating their time to such an activity that doesn't involve saving the universe. Such… a human activity.

(When Lars isn't looking, Steven quickly wipes his burning eyes, striving to avoid the pink voice inside himself that is fighting to be heard.)

After that, the older teen attempts to include the other more. He asks Steven about him and the gems themselves, their daily lives as of now. He mentions some of the classes that Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst have been lecturing, but otherwise, he says nothing much.

"Nothing really new is going on." Steven shrugs. "We've been fine."

(Fine. He uses this word a lot. It's automatic.)

That's everything he says. Lars doesn't insist anymore, perhaps getting the message.

The black-haired boy sits beside the other, who's now mixing some frosting for the chocolate cupcakes that are cooling down. Steven doesn't need to do much now, so his eyes are downcast, staring at the table and also at nothing. In his jeans pocket (since his pink jacket is hanging in one of the chairs), his cell phone vibrates a few times, but he ignores it. Beneath the stirring noises, the water is still resistant outside.

Lars' voice brings him back to the kitchen, though.

"Hey, Steven? I think you have something on your face."

Steven frowns. "What? Where—"

Out of nowhere, Lars… pokes his nose, a chill, creamy substance dirtying it. Steven blinks in alarm and that's when Lars snorts, his serious façade breaking.

"Oh my god, you look like a lost puppy," He laughs.

Steven touches his own nose and sees the small, white speck of frosting mix in his hand. He glares at his friend.

"Oh yeah?" He challenges and prepares for his attack. Lars dodges it, laughing harder, only for Steven to make more attempts. Soon, he manages to get more from the bowl and gets the cream all over the older's cheek.

"Hey, no! Not fair!" Lars protests, pretending to be disgusted. He narrows his eyes and threatens, "You're so screwed."

What follows is a frosting war, filled with loud laughter and dramatic shrieks (most of which are from Lars). It also involves flour at some point, so their faces and hands are nearly white all over when they tire themselves out. Or, well, until they realize they're out of frosting mix.

Steven has… laughed so much that his belly hurts, in the good sense. It's the first time in days, maybe weeks, that he's felt carefree, even if for a little while. He's almost forgotten what brought him here at all.

Lars looks joyful, too. He seems to be enjoying Steven's company.

"Okay, time out. I'm still winning, though," The pink boy proudly claims, soon getting more flour thrown at his face.

"Yeah, right," Steven teases, getting a snort in response.

After both have wiped most of the white mess from their faces, they dedicate to the new frosting mix. Lars sometimes threatens to get it on Steven again, but the latter makes sure he's not caught off guard again.

Eventually, the two decorate the cupcakes together – though, in reality, Lars encourages Steven to do most of it. He does it with gentleness and care, so when they have the final product, the half-gem feels… good.

"Good job, dude." Lars pats him on the back, getting a smile out of the other boy. There's a bit of a thoughtful calm before he suggests, "Y'know… I could use some help at Spacetries."

Taken aback, the younger dumbly stares at him for a few seconds. "Wait, really? B-But you did the most part!"

"No, we did it together. 'Sides, you're great at decorating. These look amazing."

Steven follows his gaze, the cupcakes appearing to shine on their own. They… They do look stunning. He's always found decorating to be an enjoyable step, really. Even more so than the baking part.

"Don't feel pressured or anything, though; I just thought of that since you're considering leaving the school," Lars relieves him. "You do you."

He might have rejected, but… the truth is, he's so lost. He's helped gems so much that he forgets so many other things in his life. So many… human things he could do. Steven has been so disconnected from them; this is the first time he's allowed to (or he's allowed himself?) to dedicate to such an ordinary pastime. And he… he loved doing it. Sure, helping Lars is worth it, yet he also liked putting something of himself in those cupcakes.

"It's… It's not a bad idea." A genuine, hopeful smile is born on his face. He notes Lars' hand is still on his back, while he also meets the pride and encouragement in his friend's gaze. It feels nice.

Maybe he could do it. Maybe he wouldn't feel so out of place anymore.

His phone vibrates again, but it's insistent.

It's a phone call.

The hand behind him is gone (he already misses it), forcing Steven to take the device for once. Just a mere glance at the screen brings dread to his eyes. Out of spite, he almost wants to insist on ignoring it. Problem is, Lars is right there, and he's going to be more suspicious than he already is.

"Uh, c-could you excuse me for a bit?" Steven already takes a few steps away, while making sure to get a confirmation from Lars; and thus, he sprints out to the front door to remain at the porch. The storm appears to have calmed down a little.

In contrast, he's not sure about the one right in his own hands.

Steven sighs and presses the green button, bracing for it.

He definitely knows something is off.

Of course, he's glad to see Steven again. They haven't hung out in maybe months, not with Little Homeworld receiving more gem students over time. But even before seeing the kid, Lars' parents came to him once he was all dressed up.

"He came here in the middle of the storm," Martha said, sympathy growing in her tone. "He didn't look well, but he wouldn't say anything."

"We didn't want to make him uncomfortable with questions, but… something serious must've happened," His father added.

They were really worried, and that was more than enough of a bad sign. Lars would soothe them by saying he would see what he could do to help. Hopefully, Steven would tell him what was up.

In the very instant he looked at Steven, he knew something was wrong. The boy's eyes were puffy, possibly from crying a lot, and he looked very much defeated and lost but tried to mask it once he realized Lars arrived. And even then, he remained mute, not up to talk about literally anything when, in the past, he'd always been just boasting about his adventures. That would only change thanks to Lars intiating the little war they had at the kitchen.

Well, Lars is happy he was able to cheer him up a little, but once the kid's phone rang, the older caught it. Resentment. Anguish. He couldn't help but glance at the phone screen, though fast enough for Steven not to notice.

There was a thoughtful pause before the kid excused himself and headed outside (Lars doesn't stop him since he notes the storm has weakened significantly). Since then, the older has been cleaning the kitchen, while attentive to all the signs. He already suspects what could have happened… though, should he really question Steven? He doesn't want to pressure him but… seeing him so miserable hurt. He's somewhat familiar with the fact that Steven isn't someone who talks about his problems too much. Last time he's been actually vulnerable around Lars was when they'd been abducted, for that matter.

He fears he didn't reassure Steven enough that he could count on him. Though, he rejects the thought when he concludes that blaming himself is not going to help. He must be patient, even though that's not something Lars is particularly good at. He can try, for Steven's sake.

Besides, the phone call is still going on far from there. Maybe things can get better, so Steven is not so unhappy anymore. Lars holds onto that shred of hope, something rare if you ask him. Steven does inspire him to become more than what he is, that's for sure.

The space pirate throws a glance towards the cupcakes standing on the table, smiling.

A thunder explodes outside, but that's not what catches him off guard.

Only a few seconds apart, there's a loud scream. So powerful, that it's almost like Lars can feel its vibrations hitting his senses, the walls useless to protect him.

The sensation, it's… it's not familiar in the slightest. It's scary. But what scares him most is that he knows where it comes from.

He drops the dishcloth, and it's like everything else blurs, since all he can focus on is getting to the door. Desperate, Lars opens it with force, for a moment fearing he's going to knock it over.

"Steven? Steven, are you okay?!" He already asks, despite not spotting the kid at first.

Lars freezes where he stands when a pink light catches his eyes. A glow coming from a miserable figure that shrinks and is wracked with sobs.

"N-No, don't- don't look at me!"

The intonation is absolutely heartbreaking, and it's even more so when Lars recognizes the other pink teenage boy.

"Steven, what…?" The words die out in his mouth.

He doesn't understand why the kid's glowing, but that's far from what concerns him, since this could be some gem power or something. The point is, Steven can barely breathe because he won't stop mourning, all the while hiding himself from Lars. The rain is coming down with all its force, though in the very least the crying boy isn't under the dangerous water.

Distantly, he realizes other people are rushing there, too. Lars catches his parents coming, but he gives them a sign to stop, not wishing to overwhelm Steven even more. Thankfully, they understand and watch from afar.

Steven swallows a lump in his throat, which sounds painful to his ears. He manages to quiet himself down, only to let out a few words out of his breakdown.

"J-Just- Just give me a m-minute, okay?" The boy requests. "You can- You can go back inside, I'll be fine, t-this is just some pink phase, I-I'll…" He cries harder, whimpering with the cold, biting wind that attacks all of a sudden.

On instinct, Lars approaches.

"I'm not leaving you out here," He ensures, firm (even though he feels like he's going to break, too).

"No, i-it's okay, I just need to calm down—"

"Dude, you're not okay!" Lars exclaims; not because he's angry, but because he's worried, and frustrated at just how easily Steven dismisses himself.

"Please, l-leave me alone," Steven begs, sniffing. "I'm this- this mess! I don't want you to deal with me like this!"

The choice of words strikes the older teen, leaving him speechless for one long minute. Steven doesn't dare look up, and with the storm becoming louder and unbearable, he hugs himself tighter.

Hesitant, but determined all at same, Lars tries again.

"Look, Steven, I get it. You're not fine right now, but…" He sighs. "You're not a burden for feeling like a mess, okay? You really aren't. And you don't have to feel ashamed."

With a sniff, Steven raises his head, but doesn't turn around. Lars is able to catch some of the tears coming out of his eyes.

"I know you want some space, and I can respect that, but can you please do that inside?" Lars begs, while not making it sound like an order, just a concerned request. "It's not safe out here. I don't want you getting more hurt than you already are. Pretty sure you don't want that, either, right?"

Despite the storm, everything is silent, though Lars feels like he can hear Steven's loud mind, thinking through the former's words. That's clearer when the kid finally faces him, teary eyes locking a hopeful gaze with his own. At that, the older gives him a supportive smile, and holds out a hand. Steven looks back and forth between Lars' face and his hand.

Finally, the boy grasps his hand and is pulled back to his feet, as far away from the rain as possible. Once Lars gets him inside, his parents approach them.

"Oh, Steven, what happened?" Martha questions, in a heartbroken tone. Neither of them actively wonders why he's pink, much to Lars' relief.

With Steven unable to look at them in the face, Lars grips the kid's shoulders comfortingly, at which he doesn't flinch away from.

"He just needs some time for himself," The taller teen tells them. "There's a lot in his mind."

"That's fine," Lars' dad says. "You can stay as long as you need to, alright?"

"Do you want me to get you a blanket?" Martha offers. "You're so cold…"

After a tentative glance towards Lars, Steven nods in silence. Both Lars and Dante lead him to the couch while Martha rushes upstairs to grab the blanket. At that, the captain remembers to get the abandoned pink jacket and hands it to Steven, who doesn't quit shivering either way.

Soon enough, the crying kid is wrapped up by a space-themed blanket Lars remembers from his childhood (where did his mom get it, he might never know). Steven doesn't contain a relieved breath while he relaxes in it, which calms everyone else down. After some other worried reassurances and offers, Lars is able to convince his parents to go upstairs and rest, not before Steven thanks them for everything. The boys are left on their own again, and Lars grabs his attention by a hand on his arm once more.

"Hey, I'm gonna go finish cleaning the kitchen," He informs. "You stay here and rest, okay?"

Receiving another quiet nod, Lars goes to work on his task. From afar, he can't help checking every now and then on the other boy, worried that Steven might run off or something. Though, really, at this point the kid might as well listen to him. Whatever mask he was holding until now seems to be completely gone.