Keith walked into the galley to see Lance and Pidge huddled around the island in the center, staring at something with a burning intensity. Lance had his arms folded and had all his attention on whatever it was they were staring at, so Keith shrugged and walked over, draping(more) an arm over Lance's back and leaning forward to look as well.
That went about as well as could be expected, as Lance yelped and jumped upright, flailing his arms comically wide. Keith simply stepped aside and avoided the worst of the Startled Lance Fallout. Pidge merely looked up at him. "That was mean."
He shrugged. "What's that?"
The item that had fallen under such scrutiny was a clear carafe of thick blue liquid. Lance, having mostly recovered, jabbed his finger at it. "Coran says it's milk."
"Blue milk," Keith said, unimpressed.
"Yeah, I don't think that's milk," Pidge said. "I'm not trying it to find out, though." She shot a considering glance to Keith, who shook his head and backed up.
"Don't look at me, I'm lactose intolerant," he said. "Besides, alien milk is still milk, right?"
"There is no way I'm putting alien boob juice in my cereal," Lance said. "I don't care what Hunk says."
"If Hunk says it's fine then it's fine." Keith had grown bored of this diversion and was fetching a drink from the cooler. "I don't get the issue here."
"The issue is it's blue," Pidge said.
"I'm going to go milk Kaltenecker," Lance announced, and flounced out the door. Keith blinked after him, and then looked at Pidge, who had returned to regarding the carafe with intensity. Keith shrugged, stuck a straw in his drink pouch, and wandered out of the galley, heading for the training deck.
He /really/ didn't understand people, sometimes.(less)