Behind The Sea, Panic! At The Disco:
Don't you know, don't you know, that those watermelon smiles just can't ripen underwater?
He knew he was not supposed to, but he did it anyways.
He knew it was going to lead him into trouble.
He just never thought it would be quite like this.
He huffs and curses in thought, swims away as fast as he is physically able to, doesn't look back. (Doesn't dare look back, afraid of scathing looks and waving tails, of words that cut as deep as glass at times). He's always been too much for his people. This he has known and wore with dignity for as long as he has lived; he is no stranger to the queer looks and signs his-the- people make in his wake. But that they would officially cast him out and leave him to his own devices in the lonely, vast ocean, honestly didn't cross his mind once.
He huffs again. How dare they? He's the best at hunting! He's lithe and fast and one of their best fighters, they can't just cast him out because he thinks different from them! Because he learnt to understand parts of the oh so stigmatised weird language! They can't. They can't.
But they did.
He growls in frustration, startling a school of fish nearby, and he takes a second to feel bad before the outrage from before hits him at full force again.
He doesn't know what else to do.
Let's make one thing as clear as possible: Lance has been many things in his life, but a coward he is not.
That he has avoided any interaction with the sea- even if he is currently living with it as his backyard- is just a simple causality, a hundred percent plausible. His life isn't all about surfing, after all, and neither is it about swimming or terrifying ocean creatures he is still not sure were even real. He has a job as a teacher's assistant in the local elementary school. He has a social life. He has a family.
Never mind that summer vacation began three days ago, all of his friends have something to do with the sea, and his family lives in a different country.
He's had a lot on his mind lately, that's all. He likes to live in a bubble of ignorance when he has the chance to not be the voice of reason in a room, thank you very much. (Yes, it happens, and yes, it is as unbelievable as it sounds, every single time).
But oh of course, life just loves to kick the shit out of his ambitions and spit on his face like if he were nothing. The one thing he wished for, the one thing that was taken from him, and he curses it all to hell.
"We should go swimming," were the words that destroyed his happy little bubble of ignorance. "It would be a good idea to get some practise in," were the nails that sealed his coffin shut.
Fucking Pidge, he thinks. Fucking Shiro. Fucking everyone.
"Lance? You okay buddy?"
Lance looks up from his definitely-not-sulking sulking position to look at Hunk with a practised quizzical look. "Of course I'm okay," he answers, a whine on the edges of his voice. "I'm always okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Hunk raises his hands in sign of surrender, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just askin', man. You haven't touched the water since we got here."
Lance sighs through his nose and twists his face into something resembling a smirk. "Why, Hunk, is this what I think it is?"
Hunk tilts his head, a small crease on his forehead, and says, "Uh, and what is that?"
"Are you asking me to get in the water with you, Hunk? Oh Hunk, I am truly flattered, but as you know, I only see you as a friend, my dear Hunk! Oh, I am so sorry for breaking your little heart…"
Hunk turns and walks away, throwing an unimpressed glance over his shoulder.
Good, Lance thinks. He's fine like this: alone, on what he has designated as His Rock, and with his phone and sunscreen at the ready. He lies down and relaxes into his towel, yearning for the blessed minutes he's going to get in napping, and is just about to drift off…
Splash!
He frowns. He was pretty sure Shiro and the others were on the other side of the beach.
He shrugs and doesn't even bother to open his eyes.
Splash!
He groans and shakes his head. Fuck you too, he mentally tells whoever-
Splash!
He splutters and moves three seconds too late, and is soaked to the bone in less than two. "What the hell?!" he yells, and he feels something brush his feet.
Ah. Shit.
"Lance? Lance, you okay?" Shiro asks from far away, and Lance can imagine the look of fatherly concern he wears: drawn eyebrows, downturned mouth, slightly tilted head.
"'M fine," he yells back, surprised when his voice doesn't actually convey all the panic he's feeling at the moment. "Just fine."
He raises one shaky arm in a thumbs up, just in case, but his eyes stay firmly planted on the creature before him: long hair, skin that shimmers with the slightest shift, pretty purple eyes, and gills.
He blinks slowly. Once, twice, thrice, and the merperson from three nights ago stares back at him blankly.
"So you're real," he says smartly. The merperson tilts its head. "I'm not crazy."
"Klrreeh?" it parrots, or at least tries to. It looks confused and a little outraged, and Lance can't honestly believe this is happening. He doesn't know how to deal with this, so he does what he does best in stressful situations: he tries to puff his chest out as best as he can and takes on his Teacher Voice, the one that means serious business is about to go down.
"No," Lance says. "Crazy. Craaaaaazy. Can you... say that?"
"Kl-rrrreeigh!" it says again, and its shrill is so loud Lance covers his ears.
"Ah, no, this isn't working," he mutters, once his ears stop ringing. He looks back at his friends just to confirm they aren't about to come and catch him trying to give English lessons to a merperson, and then he continues with his terrible idea. "How about we try with something else, yeah? Let's try something else: say hello."
"Jhjeehooh?"
Lance flinches because that voice is just so acute, but it is still a vast improvement from the first word. "Yes, good! Good. Now try to say Lance!"
"Ighnhss?"
It looks so proud, Lance doesn't have the heart to correct it.
He's honestly having so much fun with this. When he moved here, he never thought he'd ever be in this position.
Giving impromptu classes to a merperson.
A merperson who probably tried to kill him.
He halts in the middle of saying awesome!, his heart on his throat and a weird, dark, and murky feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Shit," he says to no-one in particular. "I'm talking to a mermaid."
It brightens a little, and then his look turns sour. "No… Marmag. Galra."
Lance looks down at it. "Huh? What did you say? Gal-ra?"
"Galra! No mermag. Galra!"
Lance raises his eyebrows. "Galra? That's the name of- your species, right?"
It nods, clearly exited. "Woah," Lance says. "So, Galra, do you have a name?"
"Heh?"
"A name!" Lance points at himself, a proud smile on his face. "I'm Lance."
"Ighnhss!"
"Lance! And you… are?" he tries to convey his question as best as possible, and after a few seconds of confused tension, it points at itself.
"Kleehtch!"
Lance makes a face. "Keith? Sounds human to me."
The now-named Keith frowns. "Galra," it points at itself. "Tulpuhrr," it points at Lance.
"Alright… I think we're getting somewhere now," he says, because he doesn't think he's ready to learn mermaid (Galran?) yet. So he decides to take a page from Pidge's book and ask, "what are your- ah, pronouns?"
It gives him confusion in the form of a raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes.
"You know," Lance gestures to himself. "I'm 'he'. You are…"
It points towards itself with the most condensing look lance has ever received from a fish. "No. Kleehtch," it says, and then points at Lance's chest: "Ighnhss."
Lance sighs. "I'm Lance. I'm a he. You…"
Keith stares at him for a long, long moment, and then makes a few angry-sounding whistling and clicking sounds, and disappears.
Lance looks down. He can't see anything other than his own feet and the sand.
"Weird," he mutters. He waits for a few minutes, but Keith appears to not be coming back for a while.
He's suddenly all too aware of everything: his wrinkly fingers, the ringing phone on the rock, and the disturbing lack of the sounds of other people around.
He dries his hands and checks his messages, tries to look for Hunk and finds him lounging on the sand under a palm tree. He dunks his head in water for a second to clear it, and makes the mistake to look over at Shiro and Allura.
He smirks mischievously.
He gets out of the water and gathers his things quickly, doing what he does best and trying not to think too much about Keith and his weird vocal chords and Lance's even weirder reaction to the whole situation.
"HEY, Shiro, how dare you deflower our sweet innocent friend?!"
Lance finds joy and solace in running away from his angry friends, and wishes life could stop being so weird for one goddammed second.
He wishes to Sirius when it appears, as he lets himself be tackled to the ground by an angry Pidge, later, and tries to stop trying to understand his conversation with Keith.
(He talked to a merperson. Holy fucking shit).