Something rotting in my brain / Tells me, "Do it anyway" / And do not fear the long decay / And don't ask God if it's okay

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Something rotting in my brain / Tells me, "Do it anyway" / And do not fear the long decay / And don't ask God if it's okay
I finally caved and wrote a YouTube AU, and tbqh this whole fic wouldn't even exist without the blessing that is @krisrix. Thank him for this.
There were a couple art inspirations behind this, first and foremost being this piece by Kris which set this whole thing off and made me need to write a 'verse where Baz has a fashion channel.
And another of Baz's shirts in this piece was inspired by this art by @thehoneyedhufflepuff.
Kris's brilliant mind also gave Simon his channel name in this 'verse, and he and @annabellelux shouted this perfect title at me on the discord because I'm awful with naming things. (This is why I can't have kids.)
I also wanna give a really big HEY THANKS to @sbazzing & @thehoneyedhufflepuff for being my wondrous, enthusiastic betas.
And now, without further ado, please enjoy the first installment in whatever this YouTube AU 'verse turns out to be.
BAZ
“I just think … it could be a fun way to grow your channel, get more subs, you know.”
Snow shrugs, sat across the table from me, looking devastatingly perfect with his golden curls falling over his forehead and his blue eyes shining in the sun streaming in from behind me. I want to clock him, sometimes, because he’s so beautiful and it’s no wonder he’s got one of the fastest growing channels on YouTube right now. I subscribed solely to look at him. I can’t imagine I’m alone in that.
“Baz?” Snow is waving his hand in front of my face and I realize I’d completely zoned out staring at him. Again. I’ve done that an embarrassing number of times since we started meeting, but I hope he takes me for one of those socially awkward YouTubers and not madly in love with him.
In truth, I’m probably both. But I’m definitely madly in love with him. I just can’t say it, because for all I do know about Simon Snow thanks to his inability to stop running his mouth in front of a camera, I don’t know if he’s queer.
“What d’ya think?” he asks again, and I have to physically keep myself from shaking my daze away. I blink and refocus on him.
“I don’t do challenges,” I say firmly. “I think they’re… hokey. They take nothing to make, and they’re solely stunts to build a followership.”
“Well, yeah,” Snow huffs a laugh. “That’s what the whole platform’s for, Baz. Building a followership, entertaining subscribers.”
“And I do that well enough without doing those pointless sorts of videos.”
“Come on , Baz,” Snow sighs, and I could drink in the way he says my name all day. He’s watching me, looking at me so fondly, and I have to drop my eyes down to my drink before I do or say something I’ll quickly regret. “Just one. Do one challenge, for me. I’ll even help you! From - from conception, to filming, to editing.”
And those were the magic words, right there. For me. I think I would do anything for him, for that smile, and the way it wrinkles up his freckled cheeks. He’s smiling at me right now, he’s always smiling at me, at everyone. Sometimes I put his videos on mute and just watch him talking and smiling.
Because I’m disturbed. And I’m apparently completely infatuated with this curly-haired Adonis sat across from me.
I heave a dramatic sigh, shaking my head and finally saying, “Alright.”
“Seriously?” Snow’s grinning at me wider, somehow, his eyes squinting with glee. Squinting with glee, have you ever been able to actually describe somebody with that? No one is that goddamn happy, except Simon Snow is. Right now, talking to me, about working on a video with me. I nod, and he shoots up in his seat, even thrusts his fist into the air a bit. “Brilliant! Oh, Baz, this’ll be brilliant, I swear.”
I can’t help but laugh—he’s so astonishingly happy, it rubs right off.
“Sure thing, Snow.”
“You know you can call me Simon, yeah? I mean, that’s my name.”
Simon is his name, but he goes by ‘Snow’ on the internet. At least, he did when he initially started his channel, ‘SnowMercy’. He is called Simon more often now, Simon Snow, though his actual surname is still rarely mentioned save for ridiculous internet articles about content creators.
“Is ‘Snow’ not? Where does it come from?”
“Well, I mean…” Simon shifts in his seat, and I’m afraid I’ve made him uncomfortable in some manner. He’s still smiling, but does it have an edge of awkward energy now? Have I ruined this already? We’ve met up a total of three times since we first actually met each other in person, back at a London creators conference — have I ruined this within three meetings? “Snow’s my middle name, so, I s’pose that is also my name.”
He laughs, and maybe the discomfort was in my head because his grin is suddenly back on me and I feel warm, as if I’m standing directly in a beam of sunlight.
“We’re even then,” I say, lifting my cup up to drain the last of my coffee. “Baz is my middle name.”
“That’s not your given name? What is it, then?”
I chuckle, gripping my cup with both hands. “Can’t spoil all my mysteries up front, can I?”
KEEP READING ON AO3
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