The end of this Skype meeting from hell was rapidly approaching, and Shiro was so close to relief he could taste it.
The team was attempting alliance negotiations with a new planet, but the entire planet was so incredibly toxic to Alteans that they felt it may be best to just have their meeting over a video communications link. Was it as shitty quality as a Skype call? God, no. The quality was incredible, Shiro could probably count every visible pore on the Queen’s face. But the plastic smiles and unbearable tension known of office-style Skype calls were evident, so Shiro was going to continue calling it a Skype in his head. The ‘from hell’ part of the description was due to the discomfort crawling up everyone’s throat — this Queen in particular was known to be temperamental and easy to offend, so everyone was walking on eggshells.
“Well, I believe that everything is in order,” said the Queen. Finally.
Some of the tension bled from Allura’s shoulders, and her smile turned genuine.
“Excellent! I’ll send you the forms —”
“One last thing,” interrupted the Queen. Allura’s smile froze, and her eye twitched. There was quite possibly nothing she hated more than being interrupted, and there wasn’t even anything she could do about it.
“Of course,” Allura replied through gritted teeth.
“Wonderful,” went the Queen, equally as passive aggressive.
Not for the first time, Shiro wished Adam was here. He was the master of passive aggression. He would have this bitch beat in minutes.
“Paladin Hunk,” continued the Queen, turning her gaze on the Yellow Paladin, who jumped slightly upon being called so abruptly but schooled his expression into a pleasant one.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I’ve heard you are quite the culinary master. Many of my people had the pleasure of tasting your food at Vrepit Sal’s, and have spoken endlessly of how you turned his food from failed embarrassments to pure edible pleasure.”
Hunk smiled, clearly pleased that his efforts were so widely recognized. Some of the wariness lifted from his features. “That’s very kind of them to say.”
The Queen nodded. “Yes. I figured since you are so knowledgeable, you may be able to help me with a problem of mine. My —” her lip curled — “stepson has insisted that we each take turns cooking ‘family’ dinners ourselves instead of hiring a cook. I can’t fathom why the foolish child would ever want such a thing, but my husband insists we indulge him, and I’ve never had to bother with such petty tasks myself before, so my first attempt was a disaster,” she huffs, shaking her head. “I had to force the ingrate to eat it because he insisted on me making it, but he complained the whole time it was too salty. And so my question for you: how can I fix a dish when it is too salty?”
Hunk’s face had completely soured, and his wasn’t the only one. Hearing this already entitled and rude Queen speak so horribly about her young stepson was hard to hear, and made it very difficult to want to help her or her planet.
Hunk paused before answering, face flat and judgemental. “Start over,” he said drily.
Shiro choked. The Queen’s — now furious — face whipped towards him, and Shiro clapped a hand in front of his mouth.
Fuck fuck fuck. Think of unfunny things. Uh, Iverson’s constant stories of his summer in Italy when he was 14. Nuclear physics. Literally anything but the sound of Lance losing his shit or you’re going to lose it too. You have a reputation, dingus, please please focus.
With the strength of a thousand suns, Shiro managed to choke down his laughter, despite the shaking shoulders and rapidly reddening faces of the rest of the team.
“So sorry about that,” Shiro said, voice shaking. “Tickle, in my throat. Ahem. Shall we send you the forms?”
The Queen glared at them, taking a moment to glare at Hunk specifically. He looked entirely unbothered, pretending to check his nails. Lance was a mess of desperately held-in giggles on the floor next to him. Keith was turning purple with the attempt to keep his mouth shut. Pidge had completely given up and turned so her back faced the Queen, fist shoved in her mouth.
“Fine,” the Queen spat. “I’ve tired of Voltron’s blatant disregard for professionalism, anyway. And to think the maturity and grace of that Black Paladin is talked about at every interplanetary gala. Phooey. Send the forms to my handmaidens.”
The Skype ended.
There was a beat of silence.
Shiro glanced at Allura. Their eyes met for one half second.
Shiro lost it. Completely bent over at the waist, wheezing, barely able to breathe. Over the sound of his own laughter he heard Allura giggling as well, along with the rest of the team. Hunk surveyed them all, smirking like the cat that got the cream.
Shiro doesn’t know what he’s gonna do with these damn kids.
———
more of shiro being a loveable loser here
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