“Pfft, oh my god,” Lance giggled, covering his mouth. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
“Okay,” he said, “Story time. I had just turned 16, I remember because I had these really awesome nails on that my mom got me for my birthday, and I was heading out to the plaza to meet with my friends. I was going for a certain Look, and I needed an oversized shirt, but, like. It was summer, and I dress like a bit of a whore, so the only shirts I had were all cropped.”
“So I had to borrow one of Marco’s shirts, and Marco is a huge fan of rock. Like, huge. I was hoping for a plain or patterned t-shirt and all I could find were band tees, so I picked the cutest one I could find. This shirt happened to be an AC-DC shirt. And I know AC-DC, right? Like I probably wouldn’t listen to them on my own, but I recognize their music, I don’t live under a rock. Anyways.”
“I put on the rest of my outfit and I’m walking up to the plaza. And on my way there, I run into this man,” he pauses, his nose wrinkled. “You know this type of guy? The one who pretends he’s fine with gay people but ‘jokes’ about how he’d kill a guy if he looked at his ass? The kind who’s never done a load of laundry in his life and genuinely believes women are genetically inferior?” Pidge winces.
“Oh, yikes. I think I know where this is going.” she lamented. To her surprise, Lance grinned at her.
“Just you wait,” he reassured. “I’m gonna shock you. Okay! So. This douchebag comes up to me, and I’m looking pretty femme that day. I had the nails, full face of makeup, short shorts, you know. I’m pretty sure he fully thought I was a girl. So he comes up to me and he says, as you may have predicted,” here Lance shifts positions, getting into character - he raises a brow, and has a cocky smirk on his face.
“‘So, you’re and AC-DC fan, huh?’” he mocks in an exaggeratedly deep voice. He drops the face, rolling his eyes and gesticulating wildly. “And I thought to myself, ‘Man, even if I was a fan, there’s nothing I could do to convince this guy. He’d go on quizzing me about albums and shit until he’s blue in the face.’” He grins mischievously. Hunk grins right back, having heard this story before. Pidge and Allura are watching him with rapt attention. Shiro is pretending to be uninterested, but is eating up every word, like the drama whore Keith knows he is. And, hey. Keith can be honest: he’s hooked too. Lance is a good storyteller, and weird shit seems to happen to him all the time.
“So instead of saying I was a fan of their music, I -” Lance cracks up at the memory, unable to get the words out. He takes a deep breath, desperately holding in his laughter so he can finish his story. “Sorry, okay, oh my god.” he continues.
“So I put on my biggest, sunniest smile and say ‘Yeah, they’re my favourite clothing brand! I just love their edgy style.’ And when I tell you he lost it -” Lance can’t hold on to his mirth any longer, and bursts into giggles. Hunk does, too. Pidge gasps, incredulous.
“No way!” She exclaims, cackling. Keith can’t hold back a grin. Shiro hides a smile behind his hand, sharing an amused grin with Allura.
“What’d he say?” he asks. Lance fans his face, which had gotten red as he laughed at his own story. “He couldn’t even say anything for several minutes, he was so stunned. I just walked away as he started sputtering, I think I may have broken him.” Lance grins. “But, yeah. That was one of my favourite encounters with a Man ™.”