Phone Tag (Shidge/Klance)

Chapter 4

Hunk observed Shiro take his break from a distance. A distance of about five feet, just outside the break room door. Shiro looked like he felt much better. The color had returned to his face—or was he blushing?

"So, who's the lucky dude? Not that I'm implying you're gay or anything. But if you are, that's totally cool. I just call everyone a 'dude.'"

Shiro's face crimsoned. "She's not my girlfriend. Just..." How could he tell Hunk about this weird relationship with an IT worker? It wasn't like he and Pidge were friends. Not even acquaintances. This is a girl who kinda saved my life would be just as strange. He settled on "It's complicated."

Hunk pulled up a chair next to Shiro. "So, what's her name?"

"Pidge Gunderson."

Hunk burst into a fit of laughter. "Dude, that can't possibly be her real name. Sounds like a codename. A son-of-a-gun pigeon. A bird boy with a gun."

Shiro shook his head. "Not likely. I've worked in the military. I know codenames." He sighed. "Unless you've done top-secret government work, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Hunk furrowed his brow and bit the inside of his cheek, as if he was torn between silence or saying something he might regret. "Well, as an ex-NASA engineer, I understand more than you'd like to think I do."

"Wait, what?" Did he hear Hunk correctly? Shiro leaned forward. "Then why are you working here?"

Hunk slouched deeper into his chair and fitted his fingertips together. He stared through Shiro, as if he wasn't there. "I mean, look at me. I don't exactly look the part, do I?"

With a XXL black shirt covered in flour and a belly even an apron couldn't conceal, Shiro had to admit Hunk did not look like the average NASA employee. Even a construction engineer for that matter. "I can't say you do."

"Every day, I'd go into work. Designing rockets. Going over blueprints. But I heard snickers behind my back, commenting about my weight. My diet. My appearance. It was just too much for me to handle."

Shiro could've sworn he saw some other emotion flickering behind Hunk's veiled expression. He just couldn't place it. Perhaps there was something more to Hunk's story than what he was hearing. He started to apologize, but Hunk raised a hand, only to let it fall back on his lap.

"I know what it's like to be judged on appearance alone, Shiro. I understand more than you probably think I do."

"Did you hire me out of pity, then?" His voice cracked with a mix of emotions: anger, hurt, and disappointment. He dreaded Hunk's answer. So many employers hired veterans out of pity—especially a disabled one. For some, it was an act of patriotism. God bless America. Made for a great Fourth of July special.

"I would be lying if I said I saw past your artificial limb," Hunk admitted. "If I said that, I'd be no different than people who say they don't see race. But hiring you out of pity? No. I interviewed a more than capable worker."

Shiro mulled over that. Hunk was the type who went above and beyond the call of duty to make others' life easier. No matter who it was. He clapped a cold metallic hand on Hunk's broad shoulder. "Thanks, Hunk."

"No need to thank me."

Bipbipbip! Shiro exploded out of his chair. "Sorry about that. Loud, unexpected sounds just... Well... I'll work on it."

Hunk dismissed Shiro's offer with a wave of his hand. "Nah, I'll just disable that alarm during our open hours. We'll just have to have someone up front at all times."

Hunk lumbered to check on the customer with Shiro in tow.

Katie hit the light switch, illuminating her studio apartment. "Rover, I'm home!"