thought

Lance sighs.

He keeps the sigh inside, in his chest where he's pretty sure that Pidge can't feel it. He hopes Pidge can't feel it.

He thinks Pidge and Keith are being very stupid. He thinks they should just admit that they like each other and lose the sly, shy, burning glances, and he doesn't like that. He doesn't like to think. It's not his job to think. He feels. He feels pain and joy and hope and love and death and all the emotions Keith has lost and Pidge is losing. He has been the feeler all his life. His parents, his sisters, his friends, his teachers, bosses, teammates: they think. Lance feels.

Right now all he can feel is tension and it's killing him.

The sparking fire that lies between Pidge and Keith isn't anything new to him. His three sisters had him well indoctrinated into the subterfuge of love and lust long before he joined the Space Explorers. He knows quite intimately the crackle of the long-lashed gaze, the depth of a soft sigh, the art of pressing against an arm or chest or leg in passing, of brushing hands and lips and fingers against the warm iron of another's body. But his normal role in this subterfuge is useless now. He can't find the object of his team mate's sighs and glances, scope them out and deem the worthy or, as is more often the case, scare them off like he used to do with the potential suitors of his hormone driven sisters. He thinks that this isn't the way it should be.

He wishes that there was something he could do, but in all of his life he was never the one to bring the sighing pair together. He is useless, and he doesn't like that, doesn't like that at all.

Lance can feel the Pidge trembling through their tenuous connection of flesh. He pushes against the younger man, slightly, to let Pidge know that he isn't alone. Pidge pushes back, and the trembling stops. The boy is like steel now. He holds himself rigid, and Lance knows that he fucked up somehow.

He shouldn't be doing this because he thinks Pidge is foolish for shutting himself off, but Keith is even worse for not taking the beautiful gift before it's taken away. But Lance knows that someday, some very distant day, he will be the one in Keith's position, with Keith's responsibility, with Keith's nightmares. Then he will have to be the one who thinks and let all of his feelings die. He hopes that day never comes.

Lance sighs, looks over at Sven and Hunk and wonders when they became the exception and not the rule.

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