I might add another part to it later. I mostly wrote it to cheer myself up after the season 8 finale.

Of all the places Hunk had thought he'd find himself in at the end of his first week at the Galaxy Garrison, he definitely did not expect to be stuck in the bathroom, ten minutes before his first test ever in this school, clutching the rim of the toilet as if his life depended on it and puking his guts out.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Considering Hunk's chronic tendency to have panic attacks, and his stomach's tendency to have its own panic attacks during his panic attacks, and the fact that being a first-year cadet in the world's top space academy was one big, ongoing panic attack, Hunk had assumed he'd find himself kneeling and heaving into a toilet sooner or later.

He just… hoped it'd be later. Not on his first week here. Not before he had any chance to prove that he could be stronger, that he would not completely lose it over a test, one test, which barely even included any material because they hadn't learned that much in one week.

But seriously, who gives a test on the first week of school?!

Commander Iverson, Hunk recalled miserably. The mere thought of that man made his stomach flip again and his head dove into the toilet for another round.

Suddenly there was a knock on the cell's door, loud enough for Hunk to hear it over his gagging. "Hey, man, are you okay in there?" a voice asked, a boy's voice. Hunk was pretty sure he'd heard it before, but he had a hard time recognizing it through the haze of nausea.

"Look, I don't mean to interrupt… whatever you're doing in there," the boy continued, "but if you're not going to say anything, I'm going to kick this door open. I don't want to be held responsible when they find you passed out on the floor."

Hunk took several deep breaths and wiped his sweaty brow with an equally sweaty palm. "I'm okay," he croaked. "I… I'm actually done here. I think." He still felt like utter crap, but he was pretty sure he had nothing left to expel at this point.

"Oh. Okay," The boy said, taken aback. "Do you, um, need help or…?"

Hunk's cheeks warmed. "No, no, I can come out on my own," he blurted out. He stood up gingerly, making sure his wobbling legs were capable of carrying his weight, and flushed the toilet with a heavy sigh. Then he staggered out of the cell, only to come face-to-face with Lance McClaine, a first-year cadet like him who was in the Cargo Pilots major, and also one of his roommates.

Lance jerked back, his back hitting the sink behind him. "Whoa. Dude, no offense, but you look like shit."

Hunk laughed humorlessly. "None taken. I'm pretty sure I just got rid of everything I ate this week." He winced and walked to the sink to wash his face. The cold water felt amazing against his hot, clammy cheeks.

Lance narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That's weird, the food here isn't that bad. I mean, it's nothing like my mom's cooking, but it's eadible. Although the eggrolls they served for lunch today did smell kinda funny… or maybe it's a stomach bug?" his eyes widened and he took a step aside. "Oh no, no-no-no-no-no, you're not going to make me catch your bug. I don't care if you sleep in the hallway or whatever, I'm not going to get sick on the first week of school."

Hunk couldn't help but feel a little hurt. He could understand his roommate's fear of getting sick – after all, he was sleeping in the bed above Hunk's – but kicking him out of the room for that seemed a bit too much. Hunk didn't know Lance very well – none of them had much time to talk to each other during that first, exhausting, confusing week, as they were all more focused on not getting lost between classes and trying to get to the showers before lights-out, and once the were all in their rooms they all but collapsed into their beds and slumbered through their designated six-hours-of-sleep like logs. However, based on their short acquaintance, Lance struck him as an overall nice, easy-going guy; the one who'd offer you to use his toothpaste in case you've forgotten yours at home.

Hunk's feelings must have been written on his face, as Lance's eyes suddenly softened and he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Urgh, sorry, that was uncalled for," he muttered. "It's not your fault for getting sick. I guess I'm just a little freaked out because of that test."

"I feel you," Hunk sighed. "I've been stuck here through all recess, freaking out into the toilet."

Lance's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, is that why you're so sick? You're nervous about the test?"

Hunk flinched, feeling even more pathetic now that Lance voiced it out loud. "Um… yeah?" he said slowly, blushing again. "Sorry. I-I'm kind of a nervous guy."

"I can see that," Lance said. "But hey, come on, it's just one test. And it probably won't be too hard, either; we've barely learned anything yet."

"Somehow I doubt they're going to make our lives so easy here," Hunk said gloomily.

"Well, now you're making me nervous!" Lance called in a high voice, blushing himself. Then, he groaned and shook his head. "Alright, that's enough. Hiding in this stinky toilet isn't going to help us pass the test, and recess is almost over. Let's just go to class and get this over with."

"Eh, I think I'll pass," Hunk said without thinking, too exhausted to be even surprised at himself.

Lance simply stared at him for a moment before saying, "Well, I guess you can call in sick – you sure look sick – but you can't just not take the test, you know. Iverson will probably make you take it some other time, so you better just do it now and put it behind you."

"No, I mean, I think I'll pass, like, everything," Hunk continued, realization dawning upon him and settling in his stomach like a heavy rock as he uttered the words. "This test, this class, this school… I just don't think I can do this. Not now, not ever."

"You don't actually mean that."

Hunk shook his head. "Look at me – I've been vomiting for twenty minutes straight because of one, small test, and we haven't even started simulations yet. How am I supposed to keep it together when classes get harder – and they will get harder? I don't even like flying," he babbled desperately. "I got nauseous riding the train here with my parents. Damn it, I have no idea what I'm doing here," he choked on the last sentence as traitorous tears started to burn in the corners of his eyes, and turned his head sharply to stare at the opposite wall. "This was a mistake. I can't be a space engineer. I should just go back home and help my family with their restaurant."

A heavy silence hung between them as Hunk finished venting. Confessing all his insecurities to Lance didn't make him feel better at all. He felt hollow and wrung out, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed – his real bed, back in his childhood room – and fall asleep while his mother's large, soft hand stroked his bangs.

He expected Lance to mock him, or walk away instead of having to deal with this sudden burst of emotion. But the other boy simply sighed, placed his palm on Hunk's shoulder and said solemnly, "I suppose it can't be helped. Repeat after me."

Hunk blinked. "Huh?"

"Just do as I say, will you?" Lance said. "Now, repeat after me: I'm awesome because my name is Hunk."

Hunk blinked a few more times. He had no idea what Lance wanted from him. "Again, huh?"

"I'll shove your head down the toilet again if you don't say it," Lance hissed.

Hunk gulped. He doubted Lance would really do that, but the thought was gross enough to make him cooperate. "I'm awesome because my name is Hunk," he said clumsily.

"And if you disagree," Lance continued, "Go – wait," he paused for a second, thinking deeply, and then his face brightened and he said, "And if you disagree, you're just a piece of junk."

Hunk couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "What?" he squawked. Damn, his roommate was weird.

"Say it!" Lance commanded, which only made the situation more ridiculous.

"Alright, alright," Hunk muttered. "And if you disagree, you're just a piece of junk," he said, voice tight in attempt not to laugh. "Dude, what the hell?!"

Lance's face broke into a wide, goofy smile and he patted Hunk's shoulder. "It's just something my big brother Marco taught me," he said. "I was pretty nervous too when I studied for the entrance exams, so he made up this stupid rhyme and told me to say it whenever I felt like I was going to lose it. Believe it or not, it helped quite a lot." He snorted at the last sentence. "Ha! Another rhyme!"

Hunk wrinkled his forehead. "But you couldn't possibly say 'I'm awesome because my name is Hunk'."

"Ah, of course not. I had to make up a new rhyme for you. Mine was way more stupid."

Hunk smirked. "Oh yeah? What was it?"

Lance cleared his throat and puffed his chest theatrically. "I'm awesome because my name is Lance, and if you disagree, go crap your pants."

Hunk couldn't hold it anymore. He burst out laughing, practically screeching with laughter, and had to hold onto the sink for support. Lance joined him almost immediately, and soon he was leaning on the wall in attempt to catch his breath.

"I… I'm not sure it even rhymes," Hunk wheezed.

Lance coughed several times into his fist. "Well, most of what Marco says is complete nonsense," he croaked, his own eyes shimmering with tears – of laughter, obviously. "He's a total goofball. But even this goofball could see how hard these exams were on me, and find a way to help me feel better." He tilted his head to the side. "You do feel better now, don't you?"

And Hunk realized, to his immense surprise, that he did. His legs were still a tad unsteady and he was exhausted from panicking and vomiting, but his chest felt incredibly lighter than it did two minutes ago, and his mind was clear for the first time since the beginning of the week.

"I… I think so," he said slowly.

Lance smiled again. "Good. Now let's go and show them all just how awesome we are." His expression softened. "But hey, it's not just a dumb rhyme. You are pretty awesome. I mean, you're in Engineering major! That must mean you're a mechanical genius or something."

Hunk rubbed his neck. "I wouldn't call myself a genius…"

"Then you're probably super smart anyway," Lance said enthusiastically. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here, right? So there isn't really any reason to freak out. You deserve to be here, Hunk. You've worked hard for it, and you're not going to let one test to ruin it for you."

The sharp ring of the bell saved Hunk from providing a proper answer to this equally dramatic and comforting statement.

Lance put his hands on his hips. "Well, we should probably get going before Iverson sends us to detention. Are you coming?" he brought one arm forward, looking at Hunk expectantly.

Hunk stared at the outstretched arm for a moment, then brought his own arm and grabbed it. "Yes," he said softly. Going to class didn't sound so scary to him anymore.

-x-

It was about a week after his nervous breakdown in the bathroom when Hunk came back to his room one night, feeling nice and refreshed after a much-needed shower, and found Lance crouched on the floor next to the door, talking on the phone. They were only allowed to use their phones during the free hour they got before bedtime, so it wasn't an unusual sight – nearly all the cadets spent that time calling their families. Hunk did not know Lance for too long, but the two of them had started to hang out more after that first test (which went much better than Hunk had expected, and he even got one of the highest scores in class – not that he was going to brag or anything), and he had already learned that the other boy had a big family, and that he was extremely close to his parents and all of his siblings.

So Hunk only meant to wave at his roommate and then get to his bed and arrange his stuff for the night. He didn't expect Lance to raise his head and stare at him with red, swollen eyes, and a few thin streaks of tears evident on his cheeks.

Hunk froze in his place. "What happened?" he asked. Was something wrong with one of Lance's siblings? His stomach knotted in dread.

Lance shook his head and spoke into his phone again. "Papá, I have to go, it's nearly lights-out. Thanks for telling me. Buenas noches." He put the phone down and sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying hard not to cry.

"Hey man, what's wrong?" Hunk sank to the floor next to his roommate. "Is your family alright?"

Lance released another long breath. "Yes, everyone's fine," he said thickly, and Hunk felt relief wash over him. "It's just…" his voice faded. "Nevermind. It's dumb. I don't even know why I'm crying at all," he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Come on, you can tell me," Hunk said. "I'm sure it's not dumb, if it's making you so upset."

Lance gave him a sideways glance. "Promise you won't laugh at me."

Hunk quirked an eyebrow. "Dude, you've seen me spewing my guts out over a test, I don't think I have the right to ever laugh at you for anything."

Lance tried to smile at that, but he only managed a sad, half-smile that fell off in an instant. "My dad just told me our cat died," he said quietly.

Well, the death of a pet seemed to Hunk like a perfectly good reason to cry. "Oh, sorry to hear that," he said. "Was he an old cat?"

"We're not really sure about his age," Lance said. "And that's the thing – he wasn't even our cat, not really. He was just this stray cat that started to hang around our yard a few years ago, and we'd give him food and such, be he'd never come into the house. I don't think he even liked us that much," he crossed his arms. "He probably just stayed for the food. He'd let my sister Veronica pet him from time to time, but if someone else tried, they'd get bitten." He huffed out a bitter laugh. "She sure liked to rub it in our faces."

"Wow, that cat sounds like an asshole," Hunk said and instantly flinched. "Sorry. Didn't mean to, um, speak ill of the dead."

"No, he was an asshole," Lance said. "Marco gave him the name Whitey, because he was entirely black. He thought it was hilarious. And of course we all started to call him that since then. I guess," he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, "I guess I just… got used to having that cat around, you know? He wouldn't show us love, but he'd also never stray too far from the house. Like he knew no one would take care of him better than us. And now he's gone, and the next time I come home, he won't be there, and it'll be weird and sad and damn it," he curled into himself even tighter, hands grabbing at his hair. "Papá said mamá was the one who found him. He was just lying in the bushes, completely still, and it was too late to do anything. He… he said she cried." His voice thickened again. "And I'm not there to comfort her, and it all just sucks."

They sat in silence for a while, as Hunk looked for the right words to comfort his friend. But everything he came up with sounded lame and unhelpful. After all, it was hard to comfort someone who missed his family so bad when Hunk himself quietly cried himself to sleep thinking about his parents nearly every night since he got here.

Then, he had an idea.

"I have something that might make you feel better," he said and got on his feet. "Wait here." He opened the door to their room and walked straight to his bed, where he got on his knees and reached under it to pull out a small, neatly wrapped package. It was his mother's banana cake – she had sent it to him just this morning, and he had promised to himself he'd wait until night to open it and have a piece; but sharing it seemed a lot more fun than eating it alone, especially with someone who desperately needed a mood boost. Hunk strongly believed in the ability of a good meal to reach out to people when words failed; and besides, never in his life did he come across a problem that a piece from his mom's banana cake couldn't fix.

He carried the package back to Lance and sat near him. "I hope you like banana cakes, because my mom's are the best, and she sent me one just this morning." He unfolded the colorful napkin wrapping the cake and used the plastic knife that came with it to cut a large piece and handed it to Lance. "Here, help yourself."

"Don't mind if I do," Lance took a big bite. His eyes widened at once and he let out a satisfied hum. "Oh my god, man, this is amazing! The best banana cake I've ever had, period." He raised his piece and sniffed it. "What did she put in there to make it taste so good?"

"Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that," Hunk said with an already full mouth. Lance was right; the cake was amazing, as always. "It's a secret recipe that runs in the family. I've made it several times, but it never tastes as good as when my mom makes it."

"I guess moms just have this magic flare," Lance licked some crumbs off his fingers. "Hey, I don't mean to be greedy or anything, but can I have another piece?"

"Of course! Here's the knife, take as much as you like."

"Thanks." Lance cut himself another sizable piece. "Do you parents serve this cake in their restaurant?"

"Well, it's not on the menu of the restaurant itself, but we do sell it on the small bakery that we have inside. It's the best selling cake there."

"Wow, you own a restaurant and a bakery? That's so cool. Your family sounds really cool, Hunk."

Hunk blushed in spite of himself. "Um… yeah, I guess it's pretty cool… I mean, I'm a big fan of food, in case you hadn't noticed," he patted his belly. "We're a very small family – just me and my parents, no brothers or sisters, and I only have two cousins whom I barely see because they live far away. So as a kid I spent a lot of time helping my mom at the kitchen, and I just fell in love with it." He smiled fondly at the memory. "You know, it may sound funny, but I'm actually kind of bummed that our kitchen duties here only include washing the dishes and not actual cooking. Nothing calms my nerves like cooking."

"After what I've seen on my first kitchen duty, cooking in those dishes sounds like the most disgusting thing a person can do," Lance shuddered. "God, that curry pot… the horror…"

"Dude! I'm still eating!" Hunk elbowed him, and Lance shrieked in laughter – which Hunk was delighted to hear, as any trace of his sorrow was gone for now.

"Sorry, sorry." Lance coughed, shoulders still shaking with laughter. "So, no brothers and sisters, and only two cousins? Man, that's so weird to imagine. I'm the fifth child in the family – I can't remember one time it wasn't so crowd and loud in our home."

"Wait, let me see if I can remember all of your siblings," Hunk raised a hand and started to count on his fingers. "Luis is the oldest, and he has two kids… whose names I've forgotten."

"Sylvio and Nadia. Nadia's still very small, almost a baby. Okay, go on."

"And then there's Veronica, who is an officer here at the Garrison. Where did you say she was now?"

"She's doing an internship at a base on the other side of the state," Lance drooped in his place. "She'll only be back three months from now. But she doesn't care – she said she was happy she wouldn't have to be here to babysit me." He scowled. "Typical."

"Okay, so after Veronica, there's Marco, who is in college and has the lamest sense of humor."

"You got that right," Lance said. "Alright, one sibling left!"

Hunk bent his last finger, but stopped mid-way, hesitating. "That would be… um… ah, damn it, I remember it's a girl and that she's in high school, but I can't remember her name!"

Lance chuckled. "That's Rachel, my youngest big sister. But hey, don't feel bad! You've only known me for two weeks and you already know my siblings' names better than some of my uncles and aunts. That's pretty impressive."

"I don't even want to know how many uncles and aunts you have," Hunk mumbled.

Lance patted Hunk's shoulder. "Yeah, that's a subject for another time." Then he yawned wholeheartedly and pressed his fists to his still-red eyes. "Phew, I'm wrecked. This was a loooong day."

Hunk hesitated. "But… do you feel better? Even a little?"

Lance put his hands down and blinked several times. "I think so," he said. "I mean, I'm still pretty sad about Whitey, that selfish bastard, making me weep over him like that… but maybe a little less sad than before?" he burped and his cheeks pinkened. "Guess you can't stay too upset after eating such a delicious cake."

Hunk grinned. "Good. I'm glad."

"But oh no, we finished nearly half of it," Lance looked sorrowfully at the napkin on Hunk's lap. "I'm sorry. You probably wanted to save it for a while."

"Nonsense. Sharing is always better anyway," Hunk said sincerely.

Lance finally grinned back. "Thanks, Hunk. You're a really good guy. And if anyone ever lets you feel otherwise," he waved a finger, "They're – say it…"

Hunk rolled his eyes, although his grin only grew. "Just a piece of junk," he sing-sang. "Come on, let's brush our teeth and get to bed. And don't you dare to oversleep again because I'm done kicking your ass out of bed so we won't be late for roll call."

Lance pouted. "Remember when I said you were a good guy? I might take that back."

"Then no more cakes for you," Hunk said and helped him to a stand.

"Well played, my friend, well played."

Hunk could keep bantering like this all night, but he was quite exhausted himself, and besides, he had a warm feeling the two of them were going to have plenty of banters in the months and maybe even years to come.

This night he didn't cry himself to sleep and also not on the nights after that. Only a week ago he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle the pressure and drop out of school before the semester ends; but now that he had a friend to share snacks, laughs and stories with, he started to honestly believe that he could do this.

I don't remember if they said on the show what Hunk's parents do for a living, but I didn't have the energy to check lol (also, can't really re-watch episodes now as I'm still so pissed off about that ending), so I just went with the restaruant thing.

Please leave a comment if you liked it!