The Voices of Us Pt. 1
Summary: Youtuber!Au. In which Lance falls in love with Keith’s voice, Hunk is turning twenty-one, Shallura is the workout couple, Pidge is pining, and Keith is extremely concerned why all of his friends are YouTubers. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.
A/N: This lovely fic is dedicated to the even lovelier @sopaladone for letting me use their headcanon! I hope you like it! (This is a multichapter fic, ‘cause that’s really all I’m good at.)
Warning: Language, Pidge is genderfluid but mostly goes by ‘they’ pronouns, and Klance is strong with this one.
“Lance, why the fuck is Red wearing a dress again?”
“Because he wanted to feel beautiful!”
“I swear to God, Lance if you don’t take the dress of now, I’m gonna throw away all of your Shakira posters!”
Lance gasped, his eyes growing wide as he nearly dropped the cat in his hands. He forgot about the video he was recording as he glared at Keith. “You wouldn’t dare,” he whispered. Keith glared back. “Watch. Me.”
Inhaling through his nose, the Latino slowly turned back to his camera and gave a tight smile. “Looks like ‘Adventures with Space Cat’ is going to be put on hold for now.” He leaned in. “I’ll do it when he’s not home.”
He turned around and glared at Keith again. “Alright, alright. Dress is coming off!” Red meowed as he took off the frilly pink dress, something Lance thought was the equivalent to a cat yell. If Blue, his idiot cat, would let him, he’d dress her up and do Space Cat with her. But no, she just had to be a little shit and scratch him every time he tried dressing her up. Red was the temperamental one, so why did Blue give him a hard time?
Putting down the cat and giving the ‘outro’ (as he liked to call it) to end his video, Lance stopped recording and turned off the camera. The chair squeaked as he spun around. “Dude.” He gripped the arms as he leaned in, the chair squeaking again. “Dude. I gotta do an ‘Adventures with Space Cat’ video soon. My subscribers are going nuts for it!”
“Do it with your own damn cat then.” Keith picked up Red when he ran to him. The cat started to purr as he scratched underneath his chin. Lance pouted. “They’re going to notice if it’s a different cat. And Blue won’t let me dress her up. I still have the scar from the last time I tried.”
Keith put down Red and grabbed his phone and his wallet. “C’mon. Allura was pissed the last time we were late.”
Muttering about editing his video, Lance stood and followed Keith out of the door, grabbing his keys on the way. It was their unspoken rule that at least one of them had to have their keys on their person at all times if they were both going out at the same time. Normally, it’s Lance. (The one time it was Keith’s job, he actually forgot his and locked them both out. It took the landlord two hours to get there to unlock their apartment. Since then, it was always Lance’s job.)
The L.A. sun beat down on his neck, but he was used to it at this point. He grew up right on the beach, most of his adolescent life working at the Pizza Shack with his sisters and brothers and parents. Though, he would never get use to the amount sweating that came with the Californian heat.
“What are we even doing at this thing anyways?” Lance, asked, his eyes training on a couple of girls that walked by. Attractive, he thought. Keith coughed to gain his attention before shoving his hands in his pockets. “She wants to do some combined-video-thingy or some shit. I don’t know, man, you have to ask her yourself.”
Keith, despite having all YouTuber friends (and roommate), had absolutely no idea what anything on the website was. Nothing made sense to him. It constantly drove Lance up the wall because he could be talking about one of his videos or collabs and the boy would constantly interrupt him to ask what it meant before giving up. Lance didn’t tell him about his videos anymore.
The place they were meeting at was some smoothie bar that Shiro and Allura found ages ago. They made the best strawberry banana smoothie in Lance’s opinion. Most of the group was already there, minus Hunk. (He was most likely running late because of his own video. It happened a lot.)
“Lance! Keith! Over here!”
Allura waved them over, a huge grin on her face as she did. Of course she chose to sit outside, and of course it had to be on the hottest day of the year. This girl literally had no idea just how much Lance was dying right now. He thought that the Brit would be dying in this heat, but she seemed to fit in just fine. What was she made of anyways? Alien blood and rainbows?
“You are finally here. Come, come, I got your smoothies for you already!” She ushered them to the large patio table and sat them down, her grin never faltering. Lance was weary of the smoothie. “Uh, Lure, I know you mean well and all, but how long has this smoothie been here?”
“Yeah, and do we have to pay you back or something?” Keith asked what Lance didn’t want to. Broke college kids never had enough money to spend on things like smoothies. Especially smoothies that cost six fucking dollars.
Allura waved her hand. “No, no, it’s on me. We’ve only been here for a few minutes.” She looked around. “Did any of you invite Hunk?”
Pidge shook their head. They put down their phone to look at the girl. “Didn’t you say that he was uninvited?”
“Just making sure. This would be a bust if he came.” She pulled out a scrapbook from her purse and placed it onto the table. ‘HUNK’S BIG BIRTHDAY VIDEO/PARTY’ was written in big stick-on letters, each a different color of the rainbow. The moment Lance saw it, he immediately started to wish that he stayed home and feigned illness. At least then he would be able to edit his video.
She opened the scrapbook to the first page. “Shay wanted us to throw him a surprise party with a Hawaiian theme since he can’t go home for his birthday this year. Poor Hunk. He doesn’t have enough money to fly home, and all these finals make it practically impossible to go anywhere, and-”
“Stay on topic, Lure.”
“Oh. Right. Anyways, Shay came to me a month ago or so and asked for my help with planning the party. I’ve got everything figured out-what decorations to use, what food to make, the date for the party, everything. I just need you guys to help actually set it up and makes sure people come.” She turned to Lance. “Lance, I need you to put it on your channel.”
He put down his smoothies, his arms crossing over each other as he frowned. “What? Why me?”
Shiro spoke instead. “Because you have the most subscribers. And you live-vlog everything. I’d be easy for you to draw attention to this.”
Looking at it logically, it made sense for him to do it. But it was Hunk’s birthday, so shouldn’t it be on his channel instead? Then again, this was Hunk’s birthday. It was his best friend’s birthday. He should totally do it for him. Sighing, Lance nodded. “Alright, what next?”
“Pidge, I need you to invite this list of people-” she handed them a long piece of paper “-by Wednesday. They should RSVP by at least next Tuesday. The party will be next Saturday.
“Keith, you’re in charge of the music. Make sure it’s actually something that Hunk likes. We don’t need that emo music that you listen to blaring through the speakers again.
“Shiro, I’m putting you in charge of finding the decorations and such. Please don’t get them from that party store you went to last time. Those weren’t really that good, and most of them were falling apart halfway thought the party. Poor Coran was in tears when his cup’s handle broke.” She fell silent, everyone remembering the sight of Coran sobbing when his drink fell on the floor. It took forever for Alfor to calm him down.
Lance grabbed the scrapbook from Allura’s side. Every page had some sort of Hawaiian theme. She really put a lot of thought into this, huh? he thought, flipping the page to one with pictures of beaches. He smiled. Hunk was his best friend, his honorary brother, his other half. If people could have friend soulmates, Hunk would be his. He deserved a good party-a good twenty-first.
“Do you want me to tweet about something big happening? I could do it in a way that Hunk wouldn’t know about it.” He was already unlocking his phone and pulling up Twitter. The tweet was already halfway written when Allura grabbed his hands.
When Keith was home alone, he blasted his music throughout the apartment. His roommate hated what he listened to, often criticizing it to the point that it was the same as complaining. But when he was alone, no one could say anything about what he listened to, and he could sing along without anyone finding out.
His phone was hooked up to Lance’s speaker in the kitchen, Mr. Brightside was blaring, and he was dancing while making a pot of chili. He couldn’t help but sing along; it was a song that practically everyone knew. The chorus picked up, and he got a little bit bolder in his singing. Lance wasn’t home, so why should he hold it in?
“Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies. Choking on my alibis…”
His hips swayed to the beat of the music. He wasn’t a good dancer-not as good as Lance because let’s face it: nobody was-but he wasn’t necessarily bad. He was definitely a better singer.
“I never… I never… I never! I never!”
“Shit, man. I didn’t know you could sing!”
Keith yelped, dropping the wooden spoon as he spun around. He fumbled to turn off the music. “Damn it, Lance, announce when you’re home!”
Lance was leaning on the door jam. He didn’t have a dumb grin or a cocky smirk. He actually had the same face he wore whenever he was trying to figure out a tough problem. The silence that filled the room was nearly deafening, so Keith went to turn the music back on, but he was stopped when Lance finally spoke.
He turned around. “Huh?”
“Yeah,” he said as he pushed off the door jam. He walked over to the stove. “You’re actually really good. You should sing more often. Is this ready?”
Keith smacked his hand away. “Leave the chili alone, damn it.” Pulling his hand back, he leaned on the kitchen counter. His shoulders bunched up as he looked away. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not singing in front of you ever again.” Muttering, he added, “Or anyone else.”
His roommate gaped. “Keith, you can fucking sing! I bet if you made a channel, you’d-“
The Latino threw his hands up before slamming one down on the counter next to him. “C’mon, people love you already, you have an amazing voice, and you’re not bad on the eyes.” He looked him up and down before nodding. “You’re bound to get some attention.”
“Can you shut up already? I told you I’m not singing again.” Keith ignored the comment about him being ‘not bad on the eyes’ (oh, who’s he kidding? That left him flustered as hell) and pushed off of the counter. Lance would kill him if he used the spoon that dropped, so he went to go get a new one. Or maybe he should get a ladle. It looked about ready.
“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll shut up about it if-”
“If,” he continued, “you sing on my channel on my next video. Just see what people say and see if they want you to create your own channel.”
He pointed at the cabinet above Lance’s head then grabbed two spoons. His roommate got the hint, grabbing two of the six bowls that they actually own. One of them, he decided, will have to ask for more as their birthday present. It would most likely end up being Keith.
“What do I get if they don’t?” He had to see what Lance was offering. Their last bet ended up with him cleaning the entire apartment. It was surprisingly clean when Keith got home, and he was afraid to touch anything for a few days.
Lance tapped his chin, genuinely thinking about it. When he figured it out, he snapped his fingers. “I’ll make my Mamá’s famous enchiladas.”
Victoria’s famous enchiladas? Already, this boy was making a compelling case. He scooped some chili into one of the bowls and handed it to his roommate. “So all I have to do is sing on one of your lame-“
“-videos and wait for your subscribers to say yes? And I get enchiladas if they don’t like it?”
The boy nodded. “Yeah, and if they like it, all you have to do is create your own channel and actually post on it. You could probably get equipment from Pidge or something. I don’t know where they get that stuff.”
“No one does.” Keith raised a spoonful of chili to his lips and blew on it. He didn’t miss the way the other’s eyes flashing down to them. Oh, that’s leverage to use if he needed something done. Sighing, he stirred his chili. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay. I’ll sing. Just for your next video.”
Lance whooped, pumping his fist in the air and walking out of the kitchen. “I got Keith fucking Yun to sing on my fucking channel! Woohoo! I gotta go text Pidge…”
Keith would be lying if he said he didn’t stare at his ass as he walked out. What? He was gay as hell and Lance had a nice ass. Sue him.
He shook his head. Just what did he get himself into?
“Hey, Starchild. I need you to get that-goddamnit you died!”
“Sorry, man. Looks like I’ve gone onto the afterlife. Remember me when you win.”
Pidge glared Kevin-aka Starchild-and nudged his shoulder. “You fucking idiot, we could’ve gotten that item!”
Kevin waved his hand. “Just win this for us, Gamerson. Win it for me.” He wiped his eyes of the fake tears before dropping his controller. “Dude, what the fuck, you just died.”
“Like hell was I going to face that boss alone!”
“Pidge, we’re literally just playing Little Big Planet 3. It shouldn’t be hard.”
They glared at Kevin, the grip on their controller tightening. Whispering, they said, “No man gets left behind. Even if it’s an idiot who died by running into the enemy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s just go back.” He dug through the bag of chips. “Hey, did you hear about Ivy?”
“Yeah! Her boyfriend cheated on her then she fucking wrecked his shit. But I don’t really know what she did though.” Pidge took a sip of their coke. “Damn, I’m gonna need another one. So what did she do?”
Kevin jumped onto a platform and waited for Pidge to jump up to him. “She created a new account on WoW and dragged his ass. Stole all his shit. Recorded it all and put it on her channel. At the end, she broke up with him and called him out. The girl’s got moxy. Fucking hell, Gamerson, get your head in the game!”
“Damn, Star, this isn’t High School Musical!”
“No shit. I’d be bopping right to the top if it was.”
That went on for six more minutes until they finally beat the boss. It wasn’t even that hard; they just kept getting distracted by High School Musical puns. Pidge paused the game and cut the sound. “So that was interesting. Thank you so much, Starchild, for coming onto my channel and playing this game with me. If you want to go his channel, I’ll have the link down below. Seriously do because he has the best shit.”
“Aw, thanks, man. I didn’t know you felt that way!”
“Shut up. Anyways, please like and subscribe, and I’ll see you like Sunday or something. I don’t know when I’ll actually post this. Game on, my friends.”
They cut the camera off then turned to Kevin. Their stomach growled. “Wanna go crash Hunk’s video and steal his food?”
“Let’s go.” Kevin was already out of his seat and running towards the kitchen. They stood up with a little more care, making sure that their skirt was right before walking out of their room. What? Skirts were comfortable and freeing, and they got like a shit-ton in their closet for days they felt more feminine. (Those days were rare, but not as rare as their masculine days. In fact, if they actually calculated how many days they felt feminine and how many they felt masculine, feminine would beat out masculine by two weeks. Mostly though, they tend to be more gender neutral.)
“…And then we’re going to put on-guys, what are you doing?” Hunk stop midway of his sentence when the two YouTubers reached for some of his ingredients. They looked at each other. “Nothing…” They both drawled.
Hunk glared at them. “Just take the food already and go.”
The larger man resumed his video, and the others scurried into the living room. There was still an hour before Kevin had to go to class, both videos were filmed, and there was nothing to do. Great. “So,” they drawled. “What now?”
Kevin groaned and ruffled his dark hair. He looked at his phone. “I gotta go to pick up my sister then go to class. Wish I could stay though.” He looked at them, his blue eyes reflecting the sun’s gleam. “I had fun playing with you, man.”
“I did, too. Have a safe trip.”
“See ya, Gamerson!”
Pidge watched as Kevin walked to his car before sitting down on the couch. The skirt bunched up around their legs. Okay, so there was a good reason why they wore a skirt and why they wore a headband to ‘keep their bangs out of their eyes’ and why there may or may not be a little lip gloss on today. That wasn’t the first time they collabed with Kevin, and they actually hung out on a regular basis. Something-a tiny little something-fluttered in Pidge’s stomach when the two hung out together. They never acted on it; they can’t really.
Kevin had a girlfriend.
Pidge didn’t even stand a chance. But it didn’t hurt to look nice for him right?
They could hear Hunk saying something about putting his dish into the oven before he said that he’ll be right back. Two seconds later, their roommate walked in.
“Okay, so you need to tell that boy or so help me I’m going to drag your butt down to his apartment and say it for you.” Hunk wiped his hands on his apron (this one had a that classic ‘Kiss the Chef’ thing on it) as he sat down. Pidge curled into a ball. “I don’t-what are you-huh?”
Hunk groaned. “Pidge. You like Kevin. It’s kinda obvious. I mean, you’re wearing a skirt! And your favorite shirt! And is that-is that lip gloss? Since when do you own lip gloss?”
They wiped their lips free of it before muttering that they don’t. Lie.
“Whatever. Come taste this crème brûlée when you’re done sulking.” He stood up and when to the kitchen again, muttering about editing that part of the video out. The apartment carried voices extremely well, and most times, they would be heard on the other’s videos.
Pidge played with their skirt. They had to get Kevin out of their mind, and they had to do it now. Their eyes landed on their laptop, a slow grin stretching its way onto their face. “I think it’s about time to update that Klance fanfiction,” they said as they grabbed the laptop. “Oh boy, is Keith gonna get a kick out of this one.”
Ten minutes after updating, Keith texted them.
From: Dick Overlord
-> What. The. Fuck. Why do you do this to me?
To: Dick Overlord
-> I KNEW you read them.
From: Dick Overlord
-> Shut the fuck up.
They tossed their phone onto the couch and listened to Hunk cook. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should tell Kevin. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Their life was filled with so much ‘maybe’s and ‘if’s that they don’t know what is real and true. Pidge sighed.
What have they gotten themselves into?