So, I’m hoping that you don’t mean the ship, because it squicks me out (you do you though, if you are referring to the ship), and I kinda just went the older brother/little sibling roles.

---

Pidge did not enjoy being in a situation where their life was constantly at risk because of the executive decisions a bunch of morons made on a day to day basis. They didn’t care to be fired at by some weirdly furry alien species, they didn’t care to eat green space goo for every single meal, and most of all, they did not care to be censored during the amount of bullshit that was going on!

“Lance, get your head out of the clouds and move it!” Pidge heard Keith yell through the mics. They sighed, waiting for the inevitable retort that was going to come out of the Latino boy’s mouth, and almost grinned when proven correct. 

Almost.

They honestly would have, if the Galran patrol ship wasn’t currently kicking Voltron’s ass. The very idea of smiling was blasted out the window when a well-aimed laser hit dead center and tipped the robot over. 

That was the line. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Pidge snarled through their mic, “Are you fucking kidding me, guys?! Get your shit together, Lance! Keith, stop goading him and actually step up!”

Shiro piped in at long last. “Pidge is right. We need to work as a team and–”

The pilot’s voice cut out as the Galrans unloaded an arsenal on Voltron’s prone form. Pidge was done. Fortunately, so was the rest of the team, and they actually managed to get the ship destroyed in record time once they worked together. 

Back in the hanger bay, the sandy-haired teen chucked off their helmet. “Goddamned son of a bitch!”

“Pidge, you okay?” The deep voice belonged to their leader, and Pidge sighed.

“We can’t keep doing this, Shiro. Every time we go out there, those two numb-nuts go out and fuck things up! They’re going to get us killed.”

“First of all, language.” Shiro staggered forward, flopping onto the floor next to his friend. Now that he was close enough, Pidge could see that he’d been hurt by the blast they’d taken earlier–likely from the feedback that sometimes happened inside the lions with enough damage. The older pilot leaned his head back against the wall. “Second of all, fuck!” The last was said as a hiss as he went limp and slid sideways into the younger pilot. 

“Shiro?” Pidge was startled by the action and was about to call for help when Shiro chuckled.

“Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up…” Shiro’s laughter grew. “Tell me, what level of hell did we get stuck in here? Keith, I can handle. Lance, I can handle. Combine the two? Nope, we’re screwed.” 

Pidge couldn’t help but agree. “Yep. Hmm…”

“Wait, no, I know that look. I swear to God…” Shiro buried his head in his friend’s shoulder. “If this is about drinking again, I’m going to open a wormhole to Earth myself and drag you by the ear to your mother.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not like anyone can enforce drinking ages out here.”

“Goddammit Pidge.”