Story belongs to thenakednymph @ A03
"...lot faster than I thought," Lance whispers. The door to the dining room opens and Lance's mouth snaps shut.
"Oi!" Pidge interrupts, cutting the conversation short. "Quit your gossiping and get in here. It's time for dinner and you've been eating like a bird." They cross their arms and scowl.
Lance rolls his eyes as Coran hides the syringe in his hand, smiling politely.
"Says the actual bird," Lance teases, ruffling Pidge's hair as he walks past them into the dining room.
Coran follows, quietly pocketing the device and medicine he'd been about to administer to Lance.
He shoots Lance a worried look behind Pidge's back but Lance waves him off. It's too late now.
Pidge makes a loud noise of protest as Lance misses their hair. The kick at Lance as he dances out of reach.
Hunk gives them both a disapproving look as they reach the table.
"Hey, no fighting at my table. You know the rules," he scolds.
"Lance started it." Pidge immediately throws him under the bus before flopping into a chair, Lance sitting with slightly more decorum.
"I did not," he argues indignantly.
"Did too."
Lance sticks his tongue out at them, ignoring Coran's watchful eyes.
Pidge sobers first a moment. "Seriously though, have you been eating?" They cross their arms on the table and stare. "You're skinnier than I am." They poke him in the ribs and Lance swats them away.
"Hey, hands off the goods."
Pidge rolls their eyes and digs into the plate Hunk sets in front of them.
"Manners," he reminds them before turning his attention to Lance.
"You do look like you've lost weight," Hunk says gently.
All eyes are on him and Lance feels his heart race.
"Guys, I'm fine. Seriously." He lounges back in his chair. "I've just been working a little too hard I guess.
"You know this doesn't maintain itself." He gestures to himself, hoping his baggy clothes hide how gaunt he's become.
Keith snorts next to him. "When? Is everyone else asleep when you're in the training room?"
Lance sticks his nose in the air, the jibe stinging. "Says the one who likes to train in private ." He sniffs delicately. "What do you do in there for hours on end?" he asks suspiciously. "Hmmm? Riddle me that Batman."
Keith makes a face but doesn't answer. He turns away and Lance counts it as a win but Keith keeps watching him from the corner of his eye. Something is wrong, he just doesn't know what.
Lance's stomach rebels at the heaping plate of food Hunk sets in front of him. He has to swallow back the urge to be sick just looking at it. Maybe he should have let Coran give him the shot. Made an excuse or found one to stay in the hall just a second longer.
