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Shiro knows from experience that a quiet Lance is a dangerous Lance. His favorite example is definitely Lance’s silence being a prelude to Lance dumping an entire gallon of some sort of juice over Keith’s head, but there’s been…so many. So he’s immediately on edge when he wanders into the rec room to find most of his friends and family sitting peacefully and Lance just…lounging. Like, silently relaxing on the couch, head resting in Veronica’s lap, legs draped over Hunk’s lap, mouth shut.
This should’ve been a sign, but unfortunately for Shiro, he’d been distracted because right as he walked in, the alien machinery Matt, Pidge, and Curtis were poking at in the middle of the room shot off a shower of sparks and both men had yelped in surprise and jumped back. Hunk had started cackling while Pidge was trying to stop her hair from catching on fire and by the time this had settled down, Shiro had stopped considering the danger of a silent Lance.
“Guys, I am ninety-eight percent sure that that’s a massive safety hazard,” he says, stopping to stand (loom) over them and stare at the machinery. “What is this?”
“It’s more fun if there’s a chance of death,” Matt says wisely, not answering the question.
Shiro ignores this and frowns at Curtis. “Is this a bomb?”
His boyfriend shrugs and goes back to poking at it. “Most things can be bombs if you do it right.”
Not a comforting thing to hear. And since Curtis has never once in as long as they’ve known each other been bothered by Shiro’s disapproving stares, it’s not worth wasting the effort to try and convey any of this to him.
Resigning himself to the possibility of death, Shiro sighs and takes a seat on the couch with Keith and Kosmo. He’s immediately accosted by a giant wolf and by the time he’s managed to calm the creature enough to avoid being smothered, it’s too late.
“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you two dated,” Lance says, squinting at Keith. “Like, seriously?”
Keith shrugs. “It was sort of hate-dating, really.”
“What, you and James?” Shiro chuckles, remembering that fraught and (thankfully) brief relationship. “That was absolutely hate-dating.”
Lance is still squinting. “So was he your first?”
“First what?” Keith asks with deliberate innocence.
Shiro bites back a snort of amusement.
“First anything,” Lance clarifies.
“Fuck off.”
“Okay, how about first kiss? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
Pidge opens her mouth to comment on the obvious sex joke he just barely missed, but thankfully a fresh round of sparks fly out of the machine and she’s distracted by snickering at someone else’s pain. Curtis is the victim and he shakes his hand and hisses in pain after receiving a shock.
“You guys could at least wear safety gear,” Shiro suggests, frowning. “Please don’t actually hurt yourself today. The incident report would be a pain to write.”
All three of them ignore him. Lovely.
Lance is smirking. “My first was Esperanza Serrano, and let me tell you, that’s the sort of girl a first kiss should be with.
Keith scowls and tries to shrink into the couch. Shiro winces. Nothing like the boy you love telling you how much they enjoyed kissing someone else to brighten your day.
“I think technically your first kiss was with Felicia Noceda,” Veronica says, rolling her eyes. “When you were three.”
This is essentially a “shots fired” moment. Shiro braces. Lance sits bolt upright and stares at her, then glances at Matt and Curtis, then at Shiro. A slow and rather malicious grin creeps across his face.
“Actually, I think we’d all love to hear about your first kiss, Vero.”
She scowls. “What makes you—”
“And, really, I wanna know what exactly Matt’s gotten up to in his free time too.”
Matt stops poking the machine to stare like a deer in the headlights.
“And, like, I feel like it says a lot about a person and do any of us really know Curtis that well?”
Curtis shrugs and doesn’t bother looking up. “I’ve known your sister for a few years, Lance. I think she knows me pretty well by now.”
“And I’m dating him,” Shiro offers, opening himself up to further conversation like an idiot. “So–”
“Shiro, who was the first person you kissed?” That’s Hunk, a traitor who is now dead to him.
Shiro sighs and gives up on life and existence and getting through his day without being embarrassed. “I really don’t—”
“I feel like saying you don’t remember is actually worse than just telling the truth,” Pidge says, smirking. “Just FYI.”
“Fine. A boy named Sawyer Dahlstrom. He was in my Freshman biology class at the Garrison.” It had been…a bit of a revelation, actually. Hopefully Sawyer’s alive and well, although Shiro’s not dumb enough to voice that thought out loud right now.
“Sexy.” Lance grins, then looks at the center of the room. “Holt! How about you?”
“Um, Pei-Jun Ma, our next-door neighbor.” Matt touches the machine and it zaps him. “Ow! Shit!”
Veronica and Curtis are now side-eyeing each other, clearly knowing what’s coming. Shiro knows the pair well enough to safely guess the thought process here: Veronica is trying to decide if she counts the first kiss ever or the first girl she kissed and Curtis is trying to decide how much ammo he wants to give his friend. He has no idea how this’ll unfold, but it should be entertaining at least.
Lance smiles sweetly. “Curtis, your turn.”
Curtis squints at Veronica suspiciously, then sighs and tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a moment. He’s definitely trying to decide how to avoid being teased later. “Why are we discussing this?”
“For science. Answer the question! Or, wait, don’t tell me Shiro’s your first?”
Both Shiro and Veronica snort at this. It’s particularly funny given that Curtis is literally the only person in the room who’s been married. This irony is clearly lost on most of the audience.
Curtis stops staring at the ceiling to stare at Lance. “I’m twenty-nine, Lance. You really think he’s the first person I’ve ever kissed?”
“Ha! You admit it! So?”
Shiro offers a very unsympathetic shrug when his boyfriend looks over for support. If Curtis is dumb enough to give Lance information, that’s on him. And, okay, maybe he’s a little curious too. Sue him.
“Is this a normal thing you guys do?”
“Stop avoiding the question!”
“Fine.” Curtis rolls his eyes. “The first person I kissed was Asha Fassil. Our families attended the same mosque. She and I snuck out during madrassa one day. Happy?”
Lance seems to be having a moment. Shiro can see him doing mental math. “Okay, who was the first boy you kissed?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re gay, so that doesn’t count!”
Veronica makes a pleased face that obviously has nothing to do with Curtis’s sexuality—she’s found the answer to her own quandary RE: first kisses.
Curtis looks about as confused as Lance does. “I’m not gay?”
Lance is still doing math. “You’re dating Shiro.”
“Last time I looked.” Curtis glances in Shiro’s direction. “We’re still dating, right?”
“I mean, unless you know something I don’t.”
He might as well play along, if for no other reason than it’ll be entertaining. They’ve already had the always awkward “dating history” conversation, so it’s not like anything that’s about to be discussed is going to be a revelation to Shiro. He’s well aware that he’s gay and that Curtis…isn’t. Sexuality is a confusing spectrum at the best of times, and they’d established quickly that none of the labels had been quite accurate. After a few minutes of discussion, Curtis had rolled his eyes and said “I just like who I like. And I like you.” And then he’d kissed Shiro in a way that had definitely convinced him of that fact.
His boyfriend nods as though that had been a real question and looks back at Lance. “Yeah, I think I’m dating him.”
“Okay, but you—that would—he’s gay.”
“I think you might’ve been dropped on your head as an infant.”
The machinery suddenly bursts into flames. This does not seem to inspire any real urgency from the room at large. Curtis scoots back out of scorching range, leaning against Shiro’s legs while he watches it with a concerning level of interest. Matt glares at it. Pidge, bless her, pulls a fire extinguisher out of nowhere and starts spraying it.
“So if you’re dating him and he’s gay, then by that logic,” Lance continues, ignoring the scene entirely to stare in confusion. “You would be gay.”
“Okay, well by that logic, if you date a white person, then that would make you white.”
“But—no, wait, that doesn’t make sense!”
Curtis shrugs. “Neither does what you said.”
“I—well, you’re not straight.”
“No.”
Veronica scoffs. “He’s way too gay for that.”
“I agree with that assessment,” Shiro offers. Curtis tilts his head back all the way to stare at him, so he grins and shrugs. “Just one man’s opinion.”
“You’re ridiculous. Lance, I’m not gay and I’m not straight, okay? Gender just doesn’t really factor into it for me.”
Matt snickers. “Bro, same. Why confine myself to just one or two options?”
“Okay, that’s not really what I meant, but sure.”
Lance is still staring, face very confused. Actually, it’s starting to border on rude at this point.
Shiro frowns at him, and asks, as gently as possible, “Is there a problem?”
He doesn’t think there’s a problem, necessarily. Lance is a great kid and his expression is more confused than it is uncomfortable, like he’s just got no idea how to deal with the concept. But he’d like to head off any possible misunderstandings.
Clearly recognizing from this question that something is up, Curtis sits up straight and cocks his head to the side, looking curiously at Lance. “You look like you’re extremely lost right now.”
“How does that work?” Lance does look very lost.
“I mean…the same way it does for anyone, I imagine.”
“So what, you just…look at someone and go ‘yeah, I’d fuck that’?”
Shiro sighs. “Language.”
As usual, no one even acknowledges him.
Curtis shrugs. “Pretty much.”
“I mean, yeah.” Matt nods. Then he starts poking the still-smoking hunk of metal again.
Keith snorts suddenly. “So out of the trillions of people in the universe, you saw Shiro and went ‘that one looks good’?”
“Um, more or less?”
“I feel like I should be flattered,” Shiro observes.
Matt scoffs. “Yes, because there’s just so much competition here in space.”
“I mean, we’ve met some pretty attractive people out here.”
“You could do better,” Keith announces suddenly. “Just sayin’.”
“I’m good.” Curtis says absently, leaning back again, clearly done being actively engaged in the conversation. “He’s pretty great.”
Lance is still staring. “So, wait, does that mean—I mean—how does that work though?”
“I think you broke him,” Veronica declares with no sympathy. “Lance, it’s pretty simple. He’s either attracted to someone or he isn’t. And for whatever reason, he’s into Shiro, which is a questionable choice, in my opinion.”
“It’s because Shiro’s hot.” Matt smirks. “And a total nerd. It’s a devastating combination.”
Curtis snorts in amusement and doesn’t bother commenting. He’s got his eyes closed, so there’s a strong possibility he’s falling asleep like this.
Shiro rolls his own eyes and reaches down to tap him on the head. “There’s no way that’s comfortable.”
“Actually, you have pretty comfy shins.”
“So apparently he likes me because I have comfy shins and am ‘pretty great’,” he announces drily. “Which does wonders for my confidence.”
“So, like, how do you choose then?” Lance is still staring.
Actually, it’s making Shiro feel a little protective, which is dumb, because Curtis doesn’t even seem to be bothered by it. It’s probably some lingering trauma on his part, the product of homophobia and being judged constantly for who he dated back on Earth. Whatever. He lets his hand rest on top of the man’s head as a reminder that he’s here, just in case.
“I mean, it’s not like I find everyone attractive,” Matt observes. The machine sparks again and he jerks his hand back. “It’s a person-by-person basis.”
“Yup.” Curtis agrees, not opening his eyes.
Hunk pipes up, apparently more interested in the conversation than he’s let on so far. “So you don’t just find everyone to be potentially, um, interesting. But the people you are interested in—that has nothing to do with gender?”
“Correct!”
“It’s usually called being pansexual,” Pidge says impatiently.
Matt nods, cautiously touching the machine again. “That’s one word for it. Curtis, wake up and help me get the chassis off.”
“But I’m enjoying not being electrocuted.” Curtis sighs. “Lance, if you don’t blink, your eyes are gonna dry out and shrivel up in the sockets.”
So maybe he’s a little less comfortable with the scrutiny than he’s been acting. Lance blinks exactly one time, then continues staring.
Hunk clears his throat. “So, like, what’s the difference between that and, like, bisexuality?”
“Bisexuality usually runs along some sort of gender lines,” Pidge explains. “Pansexuality doesn’t care about gender. You find people attractive no matter their gender identity. Which is how Matt has ended up dating more than one alien.”
“Okay, Zzz’vi and I weren’t dating! We went on a date. Singular. One single date!”
Curtis snickers. He doesn’t get up to help.
“Lance, I’m sure if you have questions, it’ll be less painful for everyone involved if you just ask them,” Shiro says, because he’s still staring.
He taps out ok? against Curtis’s scalp, just to check in. His boyfriend tips his head back again and gives him a fond smile.
Lance finally blurts out, “I didn’t know that was a thing!”
“Neither did I,” Hunk says. He looks thoughtful. “There’s no ‘P’ in LGBTQ.”
“If you put in a letter for every single sexuality, you’d have one long-ass acronym,” Matt says with a shrug. “And personally I prefer queer to pan.”
Curtis shrugs too. “Same.”
“It’s just alphabet soup anyway,” Veronica adds helpfully. “You can’t encapsulate the entire range of human experience with acronyms.”
“Oh, I want that on a shirt.”
“Sure, Curtis. I’ll make you one.”
He pumps his fist. “Yes!”
Shiro rolls his eyes fondly. Everyone says he’s a dork, but honestly Curtis is worse.
“Okay, but, like, how do you even figure out if you’re into everyone?” Lance is apparently still struggling. He has finally stopped staring though.
“I’m not attracted to everyone. Just some people.” Curtis sounds a little exasperated. “And I usually figure it out the same way as most people, Lance. How do you figure out if you’re attracted to someone or not?”
Keith snorts and mutters something that sounds a lot like, “By getting chained to a tree.”
“I don’t know!”
“Sounds like a you problem then.”
Hunk is still looking thoughtful. “So what if someone doesn’t have a gender?”
“That’s usually called being agendered. Or genderfluid,” Pidge offers. She’s being surprisingly helpful right now. Shiro should probably be suspicious of this too. “Or androgynous.”
Curtis nods and looks at Hunk like he’s trying to read the kid’s mind. “There’s a lot of terms for it. Is the question about the terminology or more about being attracted to someone who identifies that way?”
“The second?” Hunk looks uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny.
“It depends on the person, I think. No two people are attracted to the exact same things.”
“Huh.”
Now Shiro’s trying not to stare, because Hunk looks like he’s really thinking hard about this and he’d kill to know what’s going on in his head.
“How do I know if I’m interested in more than two genders?” Lance is frowning with obvious confusion. “Like, how does that work?”
It’s unclear if this is a real sexuality crisis or not, but Shiro feels like he should probably offer sage words of advice. Especially since Curtis looks like he’s reaching the end of his rope with Lance and Matt’s now actively ignoring him because the machine has stopped smoking.
Veronica beats him to it. “Figuring out your sexuality is a constant process, Lancito. And labels can be helpful, but they don’t define you. A label that works for now may not be what you identify as in the future. Or you may never find one that fits just right, and that’s fine too.”
“That’s why I like queer,” Curtis offers, standing up and stretching. “It’s flexible. I want a snack, so bye.”
Which is a hilariously borderline rude way to make an exit, but whatever. Hunk stares after Curtis in a way that makes Shiro think that they’ll probably be having a conversation in the near-future.
His prediction is proved correct the next day, when Hunk announces via group chat that he’s making brownies again. Shiro’s trying to enjoy his off duty time, curled up on the couch while his boyfriend shoves icy feet against his leg and stares at the ceiling. He’s entertaining himself by bugging Curtis until he either gives in to the idea of finding somewhere quieter (more private) to spend time together or gets annoyed enough with Shiro that he dumps him. He’s pretty sure he can predict how it’ll end. But as soon as Curtis finds out there’s going to be brownies, he’s faced with the third possibility: he’s ignored in favor of baked goods.
“You have an unhealthy relationship with sugar,” Shiro complains, because he is occasionally entitled to being needy. “And you already ate, like, three cookies today.”
“That was four hours ago.”
“Curtis.” And he’s definitely whining, but since no one else is here, he will probably be spared mockery—that’s usually not his boyfriend’s style. “I’m bored.”
“I want brownies.”
Shiro groans, sits up, then promptly flops over so he’s laying on top of his boyfriend. “They won’t be ready for another thirty minutes!”
“What—”
“ I’m bored.”
Curtis sighs and starts trying to squirm out from under him. Rude. Shiro maturely decides that the solution is to turn into a human octopus and wraps his limbs around him to keep him from escaping. Of course, because Curtis is absolutely that sort of person, he starts squirming even more and they’re on the narrow couch, so it ends exactly like one would expect—they roll right off the couch and land on the floor with a thud.
Thankfully, his boyfriend has a good sense of humor and starts laughing as he’s finally released. “How did you think that would end?”
Shiro grins ruefully. “I kind of thought you’d just go with it.”
“When have I ever given the impression that I’d have that kind of common sense?” Curtis laughs, standing up. “You’re delusional.”
“Oh, come on! You have, like, thirty minutes before you get brownies.”
“I’m not making out with you on this very public couch like we’re horny teenagers, Shiro.”
“Who said anything about making out,” Shiro says haughtily, like he hadn’t definitely been thinking about it. “I just want to cuddle.”
“Since when?”
“I don’t appreciate that implication.” That entirely accurate implication.
Curtis gives him a look that’s equal parts skeptical and amused. “Really?”
“Yes, really!”
“Okay, fine then.” Well, shit, now he’s fucked up, because Curtis has that look in his eye that means he one hundred percent plans to be a brat. Shiro’s trying to figure out how to walk it back when he flops back onto the couch and holds out his arms. “Come on.”
Shiro narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I feel like this is a trap.”
“Why would I do something like that?” Oh, and there’s that innocent expression Shiro distrusts with every fiber of his being.
“Because you’re a horrible person.”
“Hey! You’re the one who said you wanted to cuddle.”
“You know that I don’t buy that face for a moment, right?”
Curtis blinks at him, all wide eyes and guileless frown. “What face?”
“ That face!” Shiro starts laughing. Then he decides that he’ll take the risk and lays down on the couch, relaxing into the embrace. “That face you make whenever you’re pretending you’re not up to something!”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
Shiro wriggles around until they’re mostly face-to-face (as much as they can be with very limited space) and squints suspiciously. “What are you planning, Imari?”
Rather than answer him, Curtis kisses him, and damn, okay, that’s what he’s planning. Shiro can get behind that. He makes a pleased sound and kisses back enthusiastically. He can definitely get behind that.
After a few seconds, Curtis pulls back a little and smirks. “I thought you just wanted to cuddle?”
“Oh my G–are you kidding me?” Shiro growls in exasperation, trying to chase his lips. “You started this!”
“All I did was kiss you.”
“You’re an asshole,” he mutters, giving up on that, because there’s plenty of other places he could kiss instead. Like his neck, for instance, which has the desired effect of getting him to stop smirking and acting like he’s not just as guilty as Shiro.
“I still want brownies,” Curtis murmurs breathlessly after a few minutes.
Shiro laughs in spite of himself, teeth scraping against the man’s jugular with the motion. “Fine. Let’s go get you brownies then.”
He rolls off of the couch, landing awkwardly on the floor. Curtis sits up to laugh at him, because he’s just a kind and supportive boyfriend like that.
“Are you alright?”
“You know, I’d believe you were genuinely concerned if you could ask without laughing,” Shiro mutters, trying to act like he’s not grinning like an idiot. “Just saying.”
“Sure.” Curtis offers him a hand up, still chuckling.
“Okay, don’t hate me, but you definitely have a, uh…” Shiro clears his throat and taps the side of his neck.
“Seriously?”
“Want me to lie and claim it was entirely an accident?”
Curtis looks exasperated and rubs at the bruise on his neck. “You’re gonna try to tell me you gave me a hickey on accident?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if I should be more offended or amused by this.”
Shiro grins sheepishly. “I mean, it’s a good look on you.”
“You’re a fucking dork!”
The galley smells incredible, like always, and Shiro is immediately abandoned in the doorway in favor of leaning against the counter and looking stupidly pathetic.
Hunk raises his eyebrows. “You’re early.”
“I tried to tell him that,” Shiro sighs. “But he wanted brownies.”
Curtis shrugs. “I’m beating the rush.”
“I see.” Hunk grins in a way Shiro knows means he’s calculating revenge. “Do you happen to know what happened to my last batch of brownies?”
“Nope!”
“You know you’ve got a serious hickey, right?”
“Yup!”
“Hunk, please don’t start.” Shiro would like to live his life in peace. He moves to join his boyfriend, trying to convey his disapproval through body language.
The younger man grins evilly. “Sure, Shiro.”
They settle into a comfortable silence for several minutes while Curtis stares longingly at the oven. Hunk keeps sneaking glances at him like he’s trying to work up the nerve to speak.
Shiro squints thoughtfully at him. “Something on your mind?”
Hunk shrugs. “Nope.”
“Okay. Curtis, the brownies aren’t gonna cook faster if you watch it.”
“You don’t know that.”
More silence. Shiro purses his lips and tries to figure out the vibe. Finally, he goes with, “You know you can ask us anything, bud. Neither of us will be offended.”
Curtis stops staring at the oven to glance at him in confusion. Then he nods, turning to Hunk. “He’s right. I won’t even tease you. I swear.”
Hunk stares at him suspiciously. “You spend a lot of time teasing Rizavi and Veronica”
“They’re basically my sisters. You, on the other hand, are more like the cool cousin.”
“Okay.” Hunk keeps staring, then nods. “Keep in mind that I am the man who controls the desserts.”
“Of course.”
“I just…how do you know if a label works for you?”
“Oh. Um, like sexuality?”
“Yeah.”
One of the things Shiro likes about his boyfriend is that he takes the time to consider things before he answers important questions. The man hums thoughtfully for a moment. “Keep in mind that every person’s got a different answer, okay? But for me, it was less about labels and more about finding something that could help me explain what I felt. Does that make sense?”
Hunk frowns. “So why would you bother with it at all?”
“Because that’s what humans do. We like having words to explain what things are. And it can be comforting to have words too. Because when you have the words to describe your experience, you find out how not alone you are.”
“What if you’re wrong about the words you use?”
“Eh, I’m wrong about things all the time. That’s also what humans do.” Curtis grins and shrugs. “But the important thing is that sexuality is about you and what you feel. It’s not a right-or-wrong thing.”
“So what do you call it if you like someone who doesn’t exactly have a gender?”
“I mean, that’s really up to you, Hunk. I went with queer because it felt right, but honestly? I was much more worried about being in love with them than in really defining it.”
“You…” Hunk looks confused.
“I, um, I was married. Before the war. Kris was genderfluid. So…yeah.”
Shiro’s heart aches. The way Curtis says the name, all fondness and loss, always reminds him of just how much they’ve suffered to get here. He reaches out silently and squeezes his hand.
Hunk frowns. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“Well, it’s not really common knowledge.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Curtis smiles sadly. “Thanks. Anyway, um, my point is that it’s really not so much about who you like as it is about how you want to explain it to all the people who are going to ask you about it. Being in love with Kris didn’t make me queer. I mean, I’m dating Shiro and I’m still queer. And I was queer before I ever met either of them, when I kissed Asha. Make sense?”
Hunk nods slowly. His face is sad and serious.
“It’s okay, Hunk. It’s not something I bring up regularly because people tend to get really uncomfortable about dead spouses,” Curtis says softly, reading the expression. “But I really don’t mind talking about it. And if it helps you feel a little less alone, then that’s worth it. And honestly, it’s probably the best way to honor their memory. Kris was that sort of person.”
There’s a few moments of silence.
“What if I don’t want to have a label?” Hunk asks suddenly, moving to get the brownies out of the oven.
“Then don’t. If you’re happy without it, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m dating Shay,” he says after a moment. “She’s Balmeran. And, um, I guess that they, uh, they don’t do genders in the same way we do?”
Curtis nods silently. He squeezes Shiro’s hand back.
Hunk sets the brownies down carefully. “I mean, I use the pronoun ‘she’, but, um, that’s just because I don’t actually know what the word she uses translates to in English and, like, she doesn’t care. I think that’s kind of the whole point, actually. She doesn’t really use pronouns, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re still, like, figuring it out, you know? But, um, my parents are asking and I’m trying to explain it to them and I just…I keep saying ‘she’, but she’s not a ‘she’, exactly, and um…”
“Is this your way of saying you’re not sure that you’re straight?”
“Yeah? I don’t know how you’re supposed to say it, okay? Is there a correct way to say it?”
Finally, something Shiro can weigh in on. He chuckles. “Hunk, I promise there is no right or wrong way to say that you’re not straight. I came out to some of my friends by drunkenly making out with another of my friends.”
“He was seriously underaged too, just to make sure it was extra iconic,” Curtis adds helpfully.
Shiro does not want to dwell on the fact that this incident had been hot enough gossip that Curtis would know this. “Sure was! I was…sixteen or seventeen? Something like that.”
Hunk stares at him. “You…got drunk at sixteen?”
“I made many poor choices at sixteen.”
“I guess.”
“I just sat my parents down and told them I wasn’t straight.” Curtis rolls his eyes. “And then I came out to my brother by making a joke. So, yeah, there’s no right answer.”
“You made a joke?”
“I parked the car, got out and said ‘holy shit, it’s straighter than I am!’”
Shiro cracks up.
Hunk looks a little awed. “That’s so dumb.”
“Yep. Worked though. He stared at me for about five seconds, then pointed out that I was double-parked.”
Now it’s Hunk’s turn to crack up laughing. Curtis shrugs good naturedly and lets go of Shiro’s hand to go stare at the brownies longingly.
“Can I please have a brownie now?”
Hunk keeps laughing. Curtis sighs and turns to watch him patiently.
Finally, he gets control and clears his throat. “Yeah, I think you’ve earned a brownie with that joke alone.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“I didn’t know you have a brother.”
“I had two, actually. And five sisters.”
“Oh.” Hunk hands over the brownie, looking wistful. “I had a little brother and a little sister.”
Shiro winces, because that had been hard news to swallow when they got back to Earth: the Garrett family had suffered a lot of loss during the war too.
“Oh. So that’s why you’re so responsible then?”
“Huh?”
Curtis shrugs. “You’re, like, a classic oldest child. Responsible, nurturing, a little bossy.”
This seems to snap the kid out of his grief. “I am not bossy! I just know how to do things right!”
Shiro snorts and accepts his own piece of brownie. “Curtis is a middle child, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Ah, it all makes sense now.” Hunk nods sagely.
“Oh, rude! You know what, if you didn’t make such wonderful food, I’d disown you.” Curtis takes a massive bite of brownie.
“You can’t disown me!”
“Could so.” Another massive bite of brownie, which he chews on thoughtfully for a few moments. “So, um, we got a little off track here, but, um, I hope this helped you figure shit out at least a little.”
Hunk hums thoughtfully as he chews on his own brownie, then nods. “It did, thanks. Um, I don’t know what I want to call it though. Not yet, anyway.”
“Cool. And very fair. It took me years to figure that out. There’s no rush.”
“Do I have to tell people anyway?”
“No. You can never tell another soul if that’s what you want to do.”
“Okay.”
Curtis nods and looks longingly at the brownies again.
Shiro sighs. “No matter what you do, I’m proud of you and I love you. There’s no right or wrong way to be, okay? And Curtis, you’re not eating the entire tray of brownies.”
“Don’t tell me how to live.” And then, because he’s not actually an asshole, “Hunk, it’s a huge thing to figure out and you’re really brave for even trying. Seriously. And thanks for, I don’t know, trusting me with it? I mean, I know we’re not exactly close—“
Hunk hands him another brownie, smiling shyly. “I figured if Shiro likes you, then you had to be cool.”
“Well, fair enough.”
“Thanks for, um, the advice by the way.”
“‘Course! Thanks for the brownies.”