#hanceomeweek

“Lance, it’s-”

“It’s not okay,” he interrupted. “I’ve been working my butt off, putting in extra hours, and they basically told me I had it and then…” He sighed, his gaze dropping to his lap.

Hunk frowned. He hated to see his usually cheery and chipper boyfriend so down in the dumps. It wasn’t like it was Lance’s job to be happy, but it pained Hunk to see him like this. “Hey,” he said, catching Lance’s attention. “You know what will make you feel better?”

Lance sniffled. “No…”

“Garlic knots,” he replied, knowing that Lance’s favorite baked goods – which were currently turning a perfect golden brown in the oven – would be the cure for his bad day. But, to his surprise, Lance didn’t give his signature bright smile. Instead, his face crumpled.

“See? I stayed late again and on my night to cook dinner.” He frowned. “You worked all day today, too. It’s not fair…”

“Lance.” Hunk reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I like making dinner.”

“I know that, but it was still my turn,” Lance said. “Next thing you know, you’ll be doing all the laundry and taking over dish duty and…” he trailed off with another sigh. “It would have been worth it if I’d gotten the promotion, but…I missed out on time with you for no reason.”

Hunk smiled then, warmth blossoming in his chest. Seeing his boyfriend so miserable shouldn’t have made him happy – and it didn’t – but knowing that Lance was upset not because of Hunk cooking for him on his night off, but because he’d missed him, well… that was nice.

“C’mere,” he said, reaching out for Lance. After a moment’s hesitation, Lance practically threw himself into Hunk’s embrace, burying his face in his shoulder, his warm breath puffing against his neck. “I know we haven’t seen much of each other lately, but now that this whole promotion business is over-” He winced when Lance whimpered “-we can finally get back to spending some quality time together.”

Lance was quiet, but a few sniffles later, he pulled back. “Yeah. That’s one good thing about them picking someone else.”

“And, you know what?” Hunk said, brushing his knuckles along Lance’s jaw. “That job probably wasn’t the one for you, anyway,” he reassured him. “I bet you didn’t get it because something even better is coming along.” He smiled and Lance mirrored him.

“How do you stay so positive about stuff like this?” Lance cocked his head to the side.

“I’m a very positive person,” Hunk replied.

“You scream ‘We’re going to die!’ every time the elevator stops before it reaches our floor,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, so…maybe I’m not always, but…” Hunk frowned. “Will you just let me cheer you up?”

“Done and done,” Lance replied, his usual hundred-watt grin spreading on his face once more. “And,” he paused, sniffing the air, “dinner smells amazing. Is that…homemade marinara?”

“Vodka sauce, actually,” Hunk corrected. “I tried a new recipe.”

“Well, why are we still moping on the couch?” Lance shot up, offering a hand out to Hunk. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

Hunk shook his head fondly and let Lance help him up. He even allowed the other to lead him into the kitchen, their fingers lacing as he tugged him forward.

“And, Hunk?” Lance said once they stepped onto the tile floor. He was still facing away, but he gave Hunk’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”

He smiled, squeezing back before closing the distance between them and pressing his chest to Lance’s back. Hunk wrapped his arms tightly around him and kissed the nape of his neck, biting back a chuckle as Lance snorted out something like sounded like ‘ticklish.’

“Anytime.”