This is not my story!!
The original author is wittyy_name. They are amazing at writing these things and I recommend checking them and their other stories out. None of the art is mine either.
Summary:
Lance and his friends have been regulars at the A...
"I cannot believe neither of you asked me to be your partner. I thought we were friends." Lance whines, dramatically leaning back and draping his body across Pidge, tilting them in the process until they're pushed up against Hunk's arm. Lance rests his head on Hunk's shoulder.
"Lance, you hate dancing duos." Pidge says flatly. "Would you even have said yes if we had asked?"
Lance scrunches up his face, nose wrinkling as his lip curls. "That's beside the point, Pidge."
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"My point is perfectly valid and shouldn't be ignored." They're all sitting sat cross legged in the middle of Pidge and Hunk's practice room, gathered in front of Pidge's laptop. A youtube playlist is pulled up on the screen, and they're idly scrolling through it.
"Your point sucks. Huuuunk," He tilts his head back to look up at him, eyes wide and lips in a pout. "You would've danced with me, right, buddy?"
Hunk glances at him sideways, then looks back down to the computer screen. "Yeaaah, no. Sorry, Lance, we love you and all, but you're a huge pain in the ass to work with."
Lance sits up straight, turning to face them. He throws his arms up in the air. "I am not!"
"You are," Pidge agrees. "You are literally the worst to choreograph dances with. We've tried before, Lance. Never again."
Hunk nods. "Amen."
Lance crosses his arms over his chest, shoulders slumping. He looks away with a huff. "Some friends you are."
"You're just going to audition for a solo spot anyway, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah, but—" "So I don't see the problem. Moving on, please." They roll their eyes, somehow managing to get their whole body in on the motion.
"The point is I'm offended!"
"That's great, buddy, but can you like... be quietly offended? We've only got this room for an hour and we need to decide on music for our audition."
Lance sighs, slouching once again against Pidge. He rests his cheek atop their head, arms still crossed stubbornly over his chest. "Fiiiine."
"What about this one?" Pidge asks.
Hunk scrunches up his face in thought. "Didn't the third place winners do that one last year?"
Pidge hums. "Yeah, I think you're right."
"Oh! Oh! What about—"
Pidge slaps Hunk's hand away. "Don't touch the screen."
Hunk's shoulders hunch as he rubs his hand. "Hey, I need that hand if you wanna dance with me!"
