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“Are you sure it's a good idea bringing Lance along?” Pidge whispered, leaning on the arm of the Holt household’s couch. Keith had the decency to snort, shifting through his bag of supplies to make sure everything was accounted for. “He keeps asking to go with us and I can't say no to him”.
Matt guffawed as he stepped into the room, “You mean you can't deny when he offers a good fuc-”. That sentence was cut off by one of Samuel’s embroidered shag pillows, nailing the eldest sibling across the face with a soft twack. It landed to the floor innocently, as if it hadn't almost broke the man’s nose.
“Okay I deserved that”.
Lance waltzed into the room, sporting a messy bedhead and slightly rumpled sweatpants. Blue eyes squinted against the harsh light of a nearby lamp with distaste, still slightly crusted at the corners from sleep.
“Why do you nerdy fucks have to wake up right when the sun comes up like some sort of suburban white mother?” He grumbled, bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor noisily. Keith had about a second warning before the lanky male seemingly went boneless and flopped into his lap, laying across like a fainted princess.
“Keith, baby, can we just stay home and disturb the ghosts in a different way?” The brunette wailed, a single eye cracking open just as thinly plucked brows wiggled suggestively.
Another pillow was thrown.
•••••••••
Recording…….
Lance’s form lay dormant on Keith’s lap, facing away from the camera as his chest heaved in deep breaths. Anyone could tell he was asleep, yet what a different angle suggested, both were knocked out.
Pink lips were stretched slightly open as the ravenette rested, pale fingers intertwined within brown locks of hair fanning messily along his thigh. It was soft and quiet, the one controlling the camera letting out a small snort.
“Me and Matt left for a couple minutes to go pick up extra batteries and we came home to this” Pidge mumbled quietly, an air of fondness in their tone. Matt’s strikingly similar noise nearby seemed to confirm the story, only a single dorky Luigi Van shoe peeping into the frame.
A moment passed.
The unbelievably loud and obnoxious sound of an air horn blasted into the audio, red cylindrical shape just managing to be caught in view before the previously sleeping males startled awake. “Wake up sleepyheads!”.
Keith’s wide eyes swiveled around dangerously, pressing Lance into his body protectively with a snarl. Black hair stuck up in all directions, mocking a mop in every single way. However, the eyes that finally made contact with the lens were anything but amusing.
“Pidge!” He yelled, a pout already stretching along his lips. The cargo within his crossed legs shifted around uneasily, still being held in a vice-like grip. Lance’s muffled reply of, “Keith, my face is being pressed into your dick” just managed to be heard from a few yards away, eliciting a large cackle from both Holts and an embarrassed squeak from Keith.
•••••••••••
Recording…….
The beige interior of Matt Holt’s shitty Honda Sedan flickered into focus, shaking with bumps and turns.
“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!”.
“I'm going to throw myself onto the highway-”
As if on cue, the entire world spun, finally coming back to rest on an angry and agitated looking Keith, his taunt body drowning in one of Lance’s oversized hoodies. Soft and light baby noises emancipated from behind the camera, steadily growing in volume as the ravenette only grew more and more prickled.
“He's just grumpy because he hasn't had his cup of motor oil yet” Lance scoffed, the only part of him seen being his blue hightops resting along Keith’s black ripped jeans. The response was quickly picked up by Matt, coming from a little to the side of the device.
“Seriously, you and Shiro are the only people I know who drink black coffee” He mumbled, eliciting a scowl from the person of topic. If the man’s eyebrows dipped any lower, they would cover his eyes.
Silence took hold once more, bathing the atmosphere in comfort. However, that didn't last long.
Just making it over the noise of tires along asphalt, the smooth tune of Rick Atsley hung thick in the air. Popping snorts following credit to the driver nearby.
Just as the chorus came, the volume was turned up full blast and Lance’s crooning voice crackled messily in the audio.
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you dooownn!” He yelled, inevitably drawing the attention of everyone as the camera panned once more to his lounging form. His lanky body twisted along the fabric seats, seemingly dancing in place as he screamed the lyrics unnecessarily loud.
Soon enough almost everyone in the car was singing along, save for Keith who was sulking in the far corner of the camera. Even then, he showed some sign of amusement, lips twitching as Lance leaned across the car and dramatically caressed the man’s face.
By the next chorus even he had joined in, the video feed only sputtering out once the side of a Starbucks was spotted through the rear window.
•••••••••
Recording…….
Bright green shoes were centered, tapping around spastically along the floorboard. “Were finally here!” Pidge yelled excitedly, camera swiveling around to a grinning Matt, wild hair even worse as it was tousled from an open window.
Keith’s head suddenly popped into view, almost taking up the entire screen as he rested idly on the console. Violet eyes vibrated with intensity and probably coffee, glued forward on their destination.
“Waverly Hills Sanatorium, arguably the most haunted place on earth” He muttered, popping back off frame as the sound of shuffling in the backseat ensued. Most likely him getting his gear and information packed up as Lance bothered him.
Swirls of green, blue, and white flashed as Pidge meandered out the vehicle, finally focusing the camera as they grabbed a bag full of stuff. It was shoved onto a single pale shoulder with a small huff, being largely ignored as the building was finally the center of attention
“Is it too late to back out now?” Lance’s voice asked, forming into a chuckle as Keith made a snarky joke not caught on audio.
Suddenly, the camera was turned around, Pidge’s face taking up the view. Large glasses were pushed up with a single finger, nose slightly pink from the nippy air. “Hello everyone! Me and Keith have finally decided to heed your demands and explore the haunted halls of Waverly Hills Sanatorium located in Kentucky” They chirped, breathing audibly as they walked.
Keith sidled up to the teen with a small wave to the camera, gazing around idely. Consequently, Lance’s whines echoed in the background.
“We've done a lot of research on this place before coming as to not put ourselves or anyone else in danger, and to know what exactly we’re dealing with” He murmured, a heavy red folded sitting within his grasp at the bottom of the screen. The followers would know it as his information folder.
Pidge cut back in, “Today though we have two special guests, one of which you know from previous videos and the other someone you will not know”. The camera was spun around, landing on Matt as the man attempted to shut the door of his car, groaning as it just popped back open once more.
Before he had a mental breakdown over shitty transportation, the eldest Holt looked up, putting on a huge smile before winking. The wild tumbleweed known as his hair was now pushed down beneath a beanie, slim body swaddled in a huge coat.
“That's my brother Matt as you know from a couple of my videos, like where we visited the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum and stayed for a while after to film in West Virginia’s dense forest for Mothman” Pidge spoke, voice lilted with amusement before continuing. “Or you may know him from that one video I posted a couple months back where he broke his leg skateboarding on our roof and we had to go to the hospital-”. An undignified squawk filled the following silence.
A little more situating and Lance was in the center of the frame, sticking his hands into Keith's jacket pockets with a large pout on his face. Both looked down at the folder in the ravenette’s fingers, speaking amongst one another about something.
“That is my friend Lance who also happens to be Keith’s boyfriend” The youngest of the group spoke, slightly zooming in as the Cuban whipped to look over, nose and cheeks red from the cold. It took the equivalent of a second before he slipped smoothly into a smirk and wink, removing a hand from the infinite depths of Keith’s pockets to shoot a fingergun.
Keith glanced up as the recorder panned back out, shooting a small smile before shivering slightly. Pidge said it was for the introduction and not the views that they kept the camera situated long enough to witness Lance motherhen over the man messily, wrapping himself around Keith from behind as he snuck his hands back into the pockets and laid his chin on broad shoulder. The same went for when the ravenette blushed heavily and continued walking despite the man draped along his back.
“Gay!” Matt yelled from nearby, voice echoing in the foggy morning air. “These are ghosts from the early to mid 1900’s, you'll upset the homophobic beings with your homosexual activities”. Pidge let out a snort at their brother’s antics, flipping the camera back to front mode.
“Hey Keith, do you think it'll upset the ghosts if I were to kiss you in front of the entrance?”
There was the sound of a dramatic and clearly messy kiss as Keith swore vehemently.
••••••••
Recording…….
This time when the camera was cut back on, Keith was in possession, pointing directly at his face as the sun streamed in from a busted out window. “We came here early to scout the area, y’know, see all the rooms and get a feel for the place before setting up cameras and sleeping quarters” He muttered, half of Lance’s face also in the frame.
Pidge’s voice up ahead warned of a hole, the raventte noding curtly and smacking the man at his side to cast a look. The camera didn't pick up what exactly the other had said to deserve the slap, but it managed to set Keith's face aflame.
“So, what spooky shit happened here?” Lance asked, blue eyes flickering curiously. Keith’s entire attitude seemed to shift, brightening drastically in front of the camera.
“Back in 1910 Waverly Hills was established to house, assist, contain, and treat Tuberculosis patients. Anywhere between 9,000 to 64,000 people died in these very walls due to the overpowering sickness as well as other reasons. It was run for many years until 1943 when Streptomycin was invented as a cure, the hospital shut down and was left to rot” Keith explained, brows furrowing. “Other ghost hunters reported seeing demonic entities, spirits, and even Doppelgängers during their stay”.
The sound of shuffling feet echoed dryly along dust coated walls. Lance spoke up, “I have a feeling there's more to it-”.
Pidge sidestepped into the frame as well, continuing. “They had a place called a Body Chute where they discreetly discarded the dead patients” They mentioned, crossing hazel eyes and slinking towards the Cuban spastically. The brunette frowned deeply before pushing them away by the shoulder.
“Anyway,” Keith grumbled, “if fresh air and rest didn't help the infected patient, doctors would resort to painful and ultimately ineffective methods that proved lethal. One example would be inserting balloons into the lungs to manually fill them with air, after that they were no longer independent and always required support. Another way was to remove ribs and muscle tissue to allow the damaged lungs more room to expand, this method was proven the most deadly due to infection and, many times, suicide from unbearable pain”.
Lance let out a low whistle, face scrunching in a wince. “Wow, how did the doctors feel about all of this?” He asked, now fully engrossed in the story to the point he was leaning against his boyfriend.
“It was mostly the nurses who had the brunt of it, Room 502 was the place of many deaths. The head nurse was found hanging from a light fixture, they didn't know how long she had been there nor what the suicide was for. Four years after her death was another, a nurse who worked in the same room as the suicide jumped from the patio and died, some believe she was actually pushed.”
Silence.
“Oof, what a mood-”
“Matt shut the fuck up”
••••••••••
Recording…….
Askew glasses and wild hair peppered with dust and cobwebs came on screen. Pidge put a finger to their lips, big eyes focused somewhere off-screen.
The scene flickered as the perspective was changed, now showing what was ahead. Lance and Keith sat in a destroyed room filled with debri and graffiti, talking animatedly, orange light coming in signaling it was now almost dark.
Keith let out a laugh, violet eyes glistening as he listened to his boyfriend explain something. “Yeah, a boy named Timmy’s spirit still roams here, hunters like to bring a ball or toy for him when they arrive” The ravenette murmered, legs crossing over one another.
Lance grinned, white teeth glimmering and eyes bright with an unexplainable emotion. “We should adopt him!” He yelped, landing a smack against his boyfriend’s calf lightly.
“You want to adopt a spirit?”
“And he will be the greatest son to ever exist”
“Lance, he doesn't even technically exist-”
“Keith! Don't talk about our son like that!”
Keith chuckled, lips wide in a smile. “You're ridiculous-” He sighed, tracing shapes in the dirt below.
Pidge suddenly jerked, camera shaking as they let out a loud yell, scaring both boys enough for a shrill scream and bark to reverberate off the walls. Caught just along the side of the scene, Lance’s eyes glistened in what appeared to be fear-induced tears.
“Pidge I'm going to fucking kill you!”
“Gotta yeet-”
••••••••
Recording…….
This time when the recorder came on, it was Lance’s face filling the space, all smiles and giddiness. “You better watch out-” He began chanting, voice low and eyes filled with amusement.
“You better watch out, you better watch out-” Matt joined in, somewhere off-screen but still sounding close. It was only once the other Holt joined in the antics that it grew in volume, reverberating off cement walls. By a couple seconds, whispering escalated into full-on screaming.
Keith’s exasperated grunt passed through the obnoxious volume, Lance’s tanned features twisting into a grin before the camera switched modes. The ravenette was bent over a nearby couch, strapping a camera to the wall behind. Lens zoomed in subtly as it focused in on the man’s ass, shuffling and shaking signaling the cameraman's motion. A giggle filled the piercing silence.
Suddenly, a loud clap echoed off the walls as a tan hand reached out and slapped his boyfriend’s behind. Cackling screeched through the audio just as Keith whipped around, face red and eyes wide.
“Break me off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar!” Matt sang, coming into view with a flashlight.
“I hate you all”.
••••••••
Recording…….
“Yo Keith, time check?” Pidge yelled, only a sillhouette in the video due to the now inky darkness. Shuffling rustled somewhere nearby, possibly to the right.
“It’s now midnight” Keith spoke, just in time for a nearby flashlight to flicker on. Hazel eyes squinted and glasses refracted the harsh glare, younger group member letting out a hiss.
Pidge shifted the camera, choosing to lay it upon the team and do a once-over. Matt sat in a nearby corner on his own air mattress, checking over equipment and already trying to edit some of the footage. Upon realizing he was being filmed, the man shot a peace sign up, smiling.
Just to the left tucked away in a different corner was Keith and Lance, already draped across one another and intertwined. Based upon the steady rise and fall of black hoodie, the brunette was already fast asleep, clutching onto his boyfriend and probably drooling.
“Man, how can he sleep through basically anything?” Pidge muttered, shuffling slightly with a crinkling sound. Keith merely shrugged, eyes dropping lazily as he leaned further into the lanky limbs encasing his body. “He will be even more energetic when we get up at bewitching hour” He murmured, clearly trying to hide the sleepy dip of broad shoulders.
Matt made a snort from where he sat, glancing up sarcastically. “Are you sure it was a good idea bringing him? Things can get a little scary” He murmured, shoving away the electronics to instead stretch and get comfortable, huddling down for a quick nap.
The ravenette seemed to ponder, eyes casting down to the tuft of brown hair beneath his cheek. “I feel a lot more at ease with him here, and besides, his commentary will be more than adequate for our fans”.
“Can you stop being so dick whipped?”
“Can you stop doubting the power of a gay man?”
“Touché, Kogane, Touché…”
•••••••••••
Recording…….
“I wanna fucken die”
“Same”
“Can you two not make vines references while we're walking through a dark hallway at 3 a.m?” Keith groaned, holding the night-vision camera away from his face. Just in the background, Lance was carrying Pidge on his shoulders, energetic after his four hour nap.
Matt kept in step beside the ravenette, looking oddly terrified despite joining them on a similar trip back in September. His hazel eyes flickered to and fro vigorously, clearly showing a sign of paranoia.
“I want a church girl who goes to church, and reads her bible!-” Lance wailed, managing to click his heels despite the teen on his shoulders.
Pidge scoffed, “I hear you and Keith at night, religion isn't even a word in your relationship, except for the times I hear Keith screaming ‘oh my god!’ over and over again-”.
“Look it's the body chute!” Keith interrupted, voice interlaping over a vulgar and snarky response from his boyfriend.
The scene changed in a green flash, now pointing towards a dark and very long corridor. It looked almost demonic, concrete walls chipped and floor covered in all sorts of debris and trash, left behind by its previous inhabitants. If looked at properly, it seemed like time had just stopped, like everyone here just sort of disappeared and all that was left were some clothing and a few shoes.
“I feel like I'm invading someone’s home” Lance whispered, voice carrying dryly down the seemingly unending tunnel. There was no telling how long it was.
Keith whipped around, facing the others with the recorder. “Who wants to go in first?” He asked, not missing the pointed look Matt gave. Nobody stepped forward, all sort of shuffling in place at the thought of finding bones at the bottom.
Or worse, a fresh corpse.
“Guess I'm going first, thanks babe” He scoffed, turning away to now shuffle down the hall. A couple roaches scuttled away from view, either choosing to escape up the walls or further within the never ending abyss.
Lance made a small snort, his footsteps shuffling noisily over the dirty concrete as Pidge, presumably, was thrown from his shoulders. Their protests were quickly drowned out. “I'll go with you, if it makes you feel better, but the second I see some creepy ghost shit I'm booking it back to the damn car” He murmured, shoulder brushing Keith’s own as he teetered in step. The warmth was welcoming, an anchor to familiarity and joy.
“That's all I ask”.
A condemning silence took hold as the group trekked forward, nothing but their own footsteps and the whistling breeze from cracks and holes to fill the void. Times like this Pidge would usually make a joke or two, maybe ramble about how the likelihood of a possession was close to none.
They were tight-lipped.
Keith shakily held the camera, pointing it towards his face at an angle so Lance was also in the frame. A quick glance to the preview screen only illuminated their green overlayed faces, night vision doing nothing to hide the anxiety and slight fear. He'd have to edit that out later, especially due to the unwavering quiet.
“Fucking what?! There are steps?” Matt wailed, voice reverberating off every wall loud enough to ring. Just ahead, the lengthy stretch of descending stairs awaited, menacing in the dim lighting. At the bottom something akin to a low hum danced along the air, almost as if a machine were running.
Lance’s following grin was instantaneous.
“Parkour!” He screamed, taking the moment to cartwheel down three steps. There was a following bang and screeching laugh as the camera shut off.
•••••••••••
Recording…….
“Hey Keith, since you're my ghost hunter boyfriend, would that make you my--boo”.
Keith’s face whipped towards the camera. “Lance, we’re sitting at the bottom of a body chute right now”.
Pidge’s voice yelled from somewhere up the staircase, clearly growing antsy. “Alright, you guys cut your flashlights off and stay quiet, I'll hold some tests up here while you listen for anything that may indicate spiritual activity” They elaborated, echo lasting for a solid five seconds after.
Both men gave a brisk nod, fiddling with their flashlights for a few moments before the camera went dark. The audio was filled with ringing silence, nothing except for maybe some runoff water nearby dripping onto the floor.
“This is freaky as shit” Lance’s voice whispered, the sound of a shoe scuffing following soon after. The night vision fully kicked in as both their faces illuminated on the screen, green and clearly on edge.
Just above their heads resided a large cobweb, filled with tiny leaves and sticks. Keith swiveled his neck, clearly concentrated on listening for some kind of sign. “Yeah well imagine doing this by yourself”.
Blue eyes squinted on camera as the man attached glared towards his boyfriend. “Alright, Mr. Tough Guy” He teased, bumping a shoulder into the brunette playfully. It was a small jostle, however, it succeeded in breaking a smile from the other.
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed further down the staircase, echoing off every wall. Lance’s following scream was deafening.
“Sorry! Matt just launched his water bottle down the staircase when a spider crawled on him” Pidge called, voice tainted with amusement and false innocence. Matt only gave a disgusted gag in response, the sound of hands patting his clothing traveling down the tunnel.
“Well, I guess there's nothing creepy down here” Keith sighed, making a move to turn on his flashlight. Pointedly, a hand came out to stop the action, Lance gazing thoughtfully over as the camera was momentarily forgotten.
“Keith, I hear something”.
Both went silent.
“Oh my god, did you seriously just fart-!”
“Silent but deadly baby!-”
•••••••••••
Recording…….
A single rat was in the frame, looking at the camera with beady black eyes and twitching whiskers.
“Hey, it looks like you-” Lance’s voice cooed, tan hand extending just as a loud scoff rung off the walls, no doubt belonging to Keith. The rat merely gazed blankly at the appendage, tail swaying a little to gather dust along the floor. It’s fur was matted and greasy, probably never seeing the sun.
“Lance, I wouldn't touch that if I were you” Keith grumbled worriedly, footsteps echoing off the walls and into the audio. Apparently, it spooked the small animal, launching towards the camera at full speed on tiny little claws. The brunette shrieked, frame shaking as it was dropped to the floor, pointing towards a retreating Lance as he hopped into Keith’s arms.
Pidge’s tennis shoe came into view as it quickly sweeped the rodent across the floor, rolling a couple times before running away and into a nearby hole in the wall. Lance’s echoing, fast paced Spanish still ricocheted off the nearby metal door, koala hugging his boyfriend with lanky limbs.
Matt came into view with a wide grin, “Huzzuk-”.
“I swear to gOD-”.
•••••••••••
Recording…….
The camera came on this time to show the entire group, all sat among a dusty and old table. A tiny box sat in the middle, benign in matter.
“My name is Keith Kogane, it is currently four in the morning, and I'm here to speak with any spirits or entities willing to communicate. We don't mean you any harm and only wish to know more about the events here at the Sanitorium, I'm going to ask some questions and this box will pick up your voice or various other noises you make if you wish to answer,” Keith explained, landing a finger along the device. “I will respect you and ask for respect in return”.
Lance shuffled in his chair, folding his hands along the table carefully and quietly. “So this is an EVP session?” He asked, feet tucking and untucking over one another as his hand reached to intertwine with Keith’s own. Pidge nodded their head from nearby, putting a finger to their lips in a sign to be quiet.
“Is there anybody here who can speak to me?” Keith called, pausing as quiet enveloped the room. It had taken nearly a whole hour to find a portion of the building secluded and quiet enough to perform the session, however, they were hoping it was worth it.
The ravenette brushed his thumb along tan knuckles, eyes focused somewhere distant. “Were you a patient here, or maybe an employee?”.
Matt gazed into the camera, eyes green from the awkward lighting and night vision overlay. He looked exhausted, yet still stiff with anxious paranoia.
“What is your name?”
Silence.
“How old are you?”
The sound of Lance’s stomach gurgling.
“Are you scared? If so, do you need help crossing over?”
Suddenly, a few seconds after the last question was asked, one of the nearby cracked and moldy doors flung open and slammed brutally against its hinges. Matt let out an echoing scream at the same time as Lance, both shuffling out of their chairs and to the furthest corner. Debri such as papers and small wrappers lifted off the ground into a swirling mass, leaving Keith to swat at the air and grab the small box, gesturing for Pidge to stand up as well, camera pointed at the now empty table as overlapping chatter filled the void.
“You pissed it off!” Lance’s voice screamed, fuzzy over the roaring echo. The camera was yanked up, Pidge’s face filling the view as wild hazel hair was blown around, resembling a tumbleweed.
Keith’s awkward stance was shown as the recorder was pointed to him, one arm slung over his eyes to avoid getting dirt or harmful substances within them, the other wrapped firmly around Lance’s waist. “Calm down, I think it's just the wind, apparently a storm started forming while we were here” He yelled, momentarily leaving a frightened and shaking Lance while he closed the still slamming door.
Silence once more washed over the room, everyone breathing a little labored and clearly frazzled, even the ravenette was shaking in the hands. A moment passed of awkward gazes, and then laughter, bubbling louder and louder as time passed, storm outside making the structure creak and pop.
“I think Matt shit himself” Pidge cackled, voice loud from behind the camera.
Matt popped in, hair in disarray and eyes wide. “All jokes aside I think I did-”.
•••••••••••
Recording……
Keith held the recorder, eyes wide and alive, Lance on one side while Pidge leaned on his other. Matt shuffled around on the outskirts of the scene, picking up sticks and swinging them around like a sword.
“So now we’re going to listen to the recordings, hopefully we found something-” The ravenette began, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he fiddled with the box from before. Lance shuffled, propping his chin on the man’s shoulder with care, “Who knows, we might hear the second Matt literally shit himself-”.
“Hey! I didn't, I just thought I did”.
Suddenly, static filled the audio, all eyes focused on the EVP with unwavering attention. Keith’s voice echoed, asking the first question. “Is there anybody here who can speak to me?”.
“Were you a patient here, or maybe an employee?”.
The second question was rewarded with an awkward sort of croak, sounding more like a burp than anything. Pidge jumped, looking around at the others, “That was weird, I don't remember hearing that during the session, but it didn't sound like a voice”.
Keith sniffled, shrugging his shoulders as the next question crackled through the speaker.
“What is your name?”.
“Athena-”
Lance gave a loud gasp, hands flailing about spastically with wide blue eyes. “Did you hear that!? It sounded like a little girl!” He shrieked, hopping onto his knees as he placed his chin on top of Keith’s head, hands resting idly on his boyfriend's shoulders. Everyone shushed him, leaning in closer as the recording kept playing.
“How old are you?”.
“Six”.
“Are you scared? If so, do you need help crossing over?”
“Music”.
Keith curled his lip, setting down the EVP just as the roaring sound of wind and screaming echoed out of it, stopping abruptly. Fingers thrummed along his thigh out of focus. “Music? I don't understand-”.
Pidge pushed up their glasses, legs crossed over one another. “I would say we can play some music and see what happens, but all of our phones are dead”.
The eldest Holt launched his stick into a wall, flopping onto the floor dramatically a second later. “Owning an IPhone can suck ass sometimes” He sighed, blowing a raspberry into the air.
Quiet once more enveloped the room, everyone debating on what their next move would be. “Maybe we can use the ball we were going to bring for the little spirit boy and see if the child interacts with it” Keith supplied, shrugging off his backpack carelessly, contents clanking together noisily, over half of it was just Lance’s skin care products anyway.
Then, a voice echoed off the walls.
“Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silouhette. A lifeless face that you'll soon forget-” It was soothing and beautiful, sung like a lullaby and carried as if every emotion was expressed at once. Keith’s heart skipped a beat, eyes wide as he searched for where the intoxicating voice was located, only to meet the face of his own boyfriend.
Lance sang like he talked, expressions dramatic and drawn out, and his voice was no different. Vaguely, the shape of Matt grasping the camera and pointing it over at them was ignored, all attention on the siren before the table and debri.
“My eyes are damp from the words you left. Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest. Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest”. Every syllable was accentuated with the dip of a broad chest and bob of slender throat, thin lashes brushing smooth cheeks.
Keith allowed a smile to spread along his cheeks, air puffing from his nose audibly in a fond sort of noise. It was peaceful for once that night.
“What the fuck what the fuck-”.
That didn't last-
“What's wrong?” Pidge asked, brushing stray hairs from their eyes. Lance’s following squeak and wide, frightful gaze nearly caused the ravenette to trip over his own feet, something really was wrong.
The brunette’s hand shook as it stayed outstretched on his thigh, fingers twitching every few seconds as if struggling to hold deathly still. “Something cold is on my hand Keith please help-” He nearly sobbed, eyes beginning to get wet and cheeks flushed, all the signs before he broke down.
Keith struggled to keep his distance, tucking his hands beneath his thighs in hopes of keeping them at bay. He knew a physical encounter when he saw one, and apparently the aforementioned singing had worked way better than anticipated.
“Athena, I need you to let go of Lance’s hand, it's scaring him” The ravenette spoke aloud, eyes trained solely on that hand, the same used to push back his hair in the early mornings. The same that twined around his own when he was upset, thumb brushing past his knuckles. The same that wiped away his tears when Shiro went into the militarily, and when Adam died.
The same hand that had saved him so many times.
Lance merely squeaked, staring blankly towards his lap. “I think she’s...rubbing my hand? It's like running ice water over my skin-”.
Nearby, an old record player that had seemed beyond repair popped to life, blasting a slightly fuzzy version of You Are My Sunshine. Matt nearly jumped from his skin, tripping over an old bottle in the process of getting away. It was eery and terrifying, even Keith jumping up as he grabbed Lance by the waist and yanked him up, no longer worried about the search and spirit child any longer.
“Let's get out of here, now” He grumbled, gathering his bag and pushing Pidge gently by the back. Lance was clearly shaking, breath coming out in harsh exhales, fingers digging into the fabric of Keith’s hoodie.
Pidge teetered from the room, ushering to Matt as he carried the camera out, view now shaky. “Why are we leaving?”.
“That was not passive aggression by a spirit, that was something darker. I think it was a demonic entity”.
•••••••••••
Recording……
Pidge’s face popped on screen, eyes drooped and hair in disarray. “Sorry for cutting things short in our search, even though it's only an hour until sunrise anyway, but we ran into something we really shouldn't have” They muttered, hand coming up to rub gently along the bridge of their nose.
“We believe someone used a Ouija board, probably a couple of teenagers, and ended up contacting a malevolent force instead of a patient. Either way it was allowed access to the sanitorium and has stayed there, it used the facade of a small child as usual with demons to gain our permission to contact” Matt’s voice explained just on the outskirts of the frame, car rumbling as it was started.
Suddenly, the scene shifted as the backseat was lit up, illuminating the couple as Keith rested his back along the right door, Lance laying face-down against his chest and legs tangled together. It was clear he was still shaken, scrunched into himself and oddly quiet as the tremors of shock subsided.
“Is he okay?” The youngest Holt asked softly, worry coating their words. Despite clearly not showing it often, they actually really did care about the goofball, so much so that he was like an older brother.
Keith looked up sadly, fingers running soothing trails up and down his boyfriend’s spine, planting a kiss along brown hair. “He's going to be okay, I'll make sure of it-”.
Matt snorted from the driver’s seat, bringing back the lighthearted atmosphere. “TMI Keith-”.
“I'll fucking *end* you Matthew”.
•••••••••••
Recording……
“How's it going guys! Welcome back to our channel, this is our follow-up live vid regarding the Sanitorium. This is an open conversation so feel free to ask anything about the latest adventure” Pidge greeted, hair pulled into two little space buns and glasses slightly fogged from the popcorn sitting in their lap. Keith grunted from the side, yawning groggily as his chin rested along Lance’s head, man curled up within his lap in a big sweater and nursing a hot chocolate.
Quiet ensued, then a small ping.
“Where's Matt? Free him Pidge!”
Pidge snorted, pushing up their glasses just in time for the aforementioned man to burst in, arms full of Twinkies. “I brought the snacks!” He yelled obnoxiously, dumping the abnormally large pile into the floor, one bumping into Lance’s shin and bouncing out of frame.
“You make a single dick joke and you're disowned-”.
Matt shut his mouth.
“Anyway,” Keith grumbled, eyes squinting as he struggled to read the phone screen. “SpaceHoe37 asked ‘How scary was the trip on a scale of 1 to 10”.
Lance emerged from his armadillo-like position within the ravenette’s arms, hair a mess and eyes scrunched. “Eleven” He stated dryly, keeping eye contact with the camera as he took a large and loud sip from his coffee mug ingrained with the phrase ‘Go back to sleep, and starve’.
Just like that, a flood of comments came in at once, every single one of them asking in some context if Lance was doing okay after the scare. Matt gave a whistle, elbowing Keith cheekily, “Uh oh, looks like you have some competition now”.
A ding.
“I'll fight Keith for him- McFuckYou”
“Lance is such a cutie!- Snoozle”
“Such eye candy! ;)))- IPutTheBiInBitch”
The brunette beamed, putting on a flirtatious smile as he winked at the camera. “I'm flattered” He cooed, purposefully leaning more into the view, not able to control his lust for attention.
Keith simply groaned, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, staring at an adjacent couch. He wasn't angry at his boyfriend over it, that was just how he was, but it still struck a small jealous part in him. Maybe because Lance was too good for him?
“Awe look you guys made him pout” Pidge teased with a wide grin, teetering back and forth on crossed legs. “Isn't that just adorable-”.
The ravenette huffed as he grit his teeth, eyes squinted at the rolling comments. They were taunting.
“Did you ever find out for sure if the spirit you contacted was in fact demonic- ImAFuckUp”
The hazel eyed teen perked up, shoving a few warm kernels in their mouth in the process. “We actually did, Lance had oddly finger shaped bruises on his wrist afterwards, and after taking a trip to a dear friend with police records we found that a group of six drunk adults were found outside the building trespassing with a roll-out pentagram and a bagged dead cat” They supplied, eyes wide at getting to provide the research.
Lance made a high-pitched sound, rolling up the sleeve of his sweater and shoving it at the camera, eyes alight. “You see that!? I survived a demon attack” He huffed, shimmying his shoulders as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes directed towards his boyfriend, “Hot, right”.
“That shriek you made when the door flung open sure wasn't-”.
“Why don't you just expose me to the whole internet, Pidge”.
Keith groaned, slipping a hand over the brunette’s mouth, successfully ending the conversation before it glided to arguing. The tongue laving over his palm was ignored, figuring the man would give up once he noticed the bitter taste of the Holt household’s hand soap.
“Ew wtf was that!”
He was correct.
Pidge suddenly let out a loud cackle, pointing at the phone through clear hysteria. Whatever it was had clear bad implications for someone in the room, seeing as the little sadist loved watching people suffer.
“Are those hickeys I see on Lance’s neck?- MegaSucc”
The ravenette choked, eyes darting over to look at the slender neck beside his face, stomach dropping as he saw the dark blooms of color littering smooth flesh. Oh shit-.
“Oh I have more than that-!” Lance chirped, beginning to lift up his sweater.
“No!” They all yelled at once, Keith even using both his hands to shove down the knitted material, intent on keeping not only his boyfriend’s body hidden from others, but also the implied other marks. Still, it didn't stop the man from loudly announcing that he wasn't ashamed of them and that he wanted to ‘show off Keith’s art’.
Matt snickered, now scrolling through the phone. “We have about two minutes left of the stream and all the comments are demanding a ‘Klance kiss’” He chuckled, eyes alight as chapped lips became puckered, stupid smile making him look like an awkward penguin. “Oh, and also a meme reference-”.
Before any protests could be made, and the stream was cut, Lance swiveled around like a man on a mission, now facing Keith as he sat in his lap. Thinly plucked brows danced suggestively, almost reaching his hairline. “Spicy-”.
“You ruined the moment”.
“I'm still turned on-”.
“Lance I swear”.
And just like that they were kissing, Keith’s eyes wide as Lance’s warm hands cupped his cheeks, wet heat planted briefly upon awaiting lips. It ended as soon as it began, brunette grinning cheekily, “You’re all flustered it’s adorable”. Before an answer could be provided, more kisses were planted along a crinkled forehead, red cheeks, dipped brows, and a scrunched nose. It was sweet, making Keith bark out a chuckle, hugging his boyfriend tight, blowing a raspberry into slender neck.
“Stop,,,Keith that tickle- ahahHA” Lance screamed, hands pushing away by the chest and smile practically blinding.
“I'm pretty sure we just gained like, thirty new subscribers in a single minute holy *shit-”.
Matt vaulted over a couch, pout pulled upon his lips. “Now we're going to have to bring Lance along more so they can suck face on camera-” He grunted, venom weak and clearly joking around, no bite to his tone whatsoever.
“Fuck that I'm not going ghost hunting ever again”.
Two weeks later and another video was posted, the title being ‘Search For The HellHound’ and the thumbnail showing a screaming Lance with Keith in a dog mask.
They went viral.