two drabbles for comment_fic - High School Musical and Friends
prompt: High School Musical, Chad/Ryan, magic. 423 words.
It's not a surprise that Ryan can do magic. Chad doesn't know why it isn't, and he should probably worry he expected something like this, but, well, he's just not surprised.
"Okay," he says.
Ryan's eyes widen. "Okay? Just like that?"
"Yeah," says Chad. "I mean, if you're gonna tick off all the stereotypes, why not magic?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"It's magic," Chad tries to explain. "It's like boom! and glitter and color."
Ryan frowns.
"What?"
"I don't think you understood me right."
Chad raises his eyebrows.
Ryan literally turns green.
Chad jumps back. "How did you do that? Is that your real skin? Are you an alien?" He ponders this. "That would be kinda cool, dating an alien."
"That's my Elphaba impression," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, and his skin goes back to its normal color. "I'm not an alien. There may be aliens in my ancestry, though."
"That explains the Sharpay."
"Not really," Ryan points out. "I mean, the most she can do is like, handlessly style her hair. I can do stuff like this," he says, holding out his hand and raising it.
Chad feels himself lifted off the ground. "What the fuck?"
Ryan smirks.
"I thought it was-"
"A trick?"
"Yeah."
Ryan raises his eyebrows.
"Neil Patrick Harris and stuff. With the fire thing."
Chad hits the floor with a loud thump.
Ryan chuckles, and, when confronted with Chad's glare, shrugs.
"So, wait," Ryan says, and helps Chad to his feet. "I didn't know we were dating," and the way he makes it sound is like-like the reason Chad hadn't brought that up before. It's weird. Technicalities (like the fact that they didn't hook up at college, but during Christmas break) apart, there's obligatory experimenting, and then there's, like, walking around holding hands.
Chad draws the line at holding hands, but the whole player thing doesn't look like it'd suit him. He gets way too attached to people. "Sure. I mean, you may not be green, but you're still weird inside."
"I'll-take that as a compliment?"
"Hey, you chose Mars. You could have turned yourself blue or something."
Ryan tsks. "That would have been extremely unsubtle."
"Because green wasn't?"
Ryan looks at him, and laughs.
Chad ignores him. "So what else can you do?"
Ryan shoots him a truly evil look.
"You're not going to unleash the powers of Hell onto me, are you?"
Ryan chuckles. "Nah," he says. "There's some other stuff I'd like to try first."
prompt: Friends, Monica/Chandler, growing up. 271 words.
"We're not putting the crib in the corner."
"Why?" Monica asks. "Why? It's the only thing that fits. Obviously we can't throw the armchair in there. It doesn't have wheels. It would be unmovable. How would I clean behind it, Chandler? How? Do you want to live in squalor? Is that what you want?"
Chandler blinks. "But-"
"What?"
"But nobody puts baby in the corner."
Monica's eyes widen, a lot, before she manages to breathe and smack him in the arm. At the same time. "Don't do that to me," she says, a smile on the corner of her lips, almost there.
"Why? It was funny."
"No it wasn't," Monica says. "You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Whatever happened to 'don't worry, honey, I'll listen to your thoughts'?" asks Chandler, amused.
"It was a misleading truth," Monica deadpans.
"Right," Chandler says, "should've known that."
Monica shrugs. "Okay, now. Where are we putting the toy chest?"
Chandler gives it some thought and reluctantly ventures, "At the foot of the bed?"
"Are you nuts? What if they fall in? Worse, what if they fall in and swallow som-" She stops. She interrupts herself. She looks at Chandler, and there's a glint of realization in her eye. "You're kidding again."
Chandler looks at her for a second, torn between telling the truth or... not telling the truth. Or discussing. Or not.
Finally, he forces himself to smile and say, "You got me."
Monica hits him in the arm again, lighter this time, though it still hurts. "Great."
Chandler smiles and goes back to his chair. In the corner.
Sometimes growing up means sitting down and letting your wife take over.
It's not a surprise that Ryan can do magic. Chad doesn't know why it isn't, and he should probably worry he expected something like this, but, well, he's just not surprised.
"Okay," he says.
Ryan's eyes widen. "Okay? Just like that?"
"Yeah," says Chad. "I mean, if you're gonna tick off all the stereotypes, why not magic?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"It's magic," Chad tries to explain. "It's like boom! and glitter and color."
Ryan frowns.
"What?"
"I don't think you understood me right."
Chad raises his eyebrows.
Ryan literally turns green.
Chad jumps back. "How did you do that? Is that your real skin? Are you an alien?" He ponders this. "That would be kinda cool, dating an alien."
"That's my Elphaba impression," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, and his skin goes back to its normal color. "I'm not an alien. There may be aliens in my ancestry, though."
"That explains the Sharpay."
"Not really," Ryan points out. "I mean, the most she can do is like, handlessly style her hair. I can do stuff like this," he says, holding out his hand and raising it.
Chad feels himself lifted off the ground. "What the fuck?"
Ryan smirks.
"I thought it was-"
"A trick?"
"Yeah."
Ryan raises his eyebrows.
"Neil Patrick Harris and stuff. With the fire thing."
Chad hits the floor with a loud thump.
Ryan chuckles, and, when confronted with Chad's glare, shrugs.
"So, wait," Ryan says, and helps Chad to his feet. "I didn't know we were dating," and the way he makes it sound is like-like the reason Chad hadn't brought that up before. It's weird. Technicalities (like the fact that they didn't hook up at college, but during Christmas break) apart, there's obligatory experimenting, and then there's, like, walking around holding hands.
Chad draws the line at holding hands, but the whole player thing doesn't look like it'd suit him. He gets way too attached to people. "Sure. I mean, you may not be green, but you're still weird inside."
"I'll-take that as a compliment?"
"Hey, you chose Mars. You could have turned yourself blue or something."
Ryan tsks. "That would have been extremely unsubtle."
"Because green wasn't?"
Ryan looks at him, and laughs.
Chad ignores him. "So what else can you do?"
Ryan shoots him a truly evil look.
"You're not going to unleash the powers of Hell onto me, are you?"
Ryan chuckles. "Nah," he says. "There's some other stuff I'd like to try first."
prompt: Friends, Monica/Chandler, growing up. 271 words.
"We're not putting the crib in the corner."
"Why?" Monica asks. "Why? It's the only thing that fits. Obviously we can't throw the armchair in there. It doesn't have wheels. It would be unmovable. How would I clean behind it, Chandler? How? Do you want to live in squalor? Is that what you want?"
Chandler blinks. "But-"
"What?"
"But nobody puts baby in the corner."
Monica's eyes widen, a lot, before she manages to breathe and smack him in the arm. At the same time. "Don't do that to me," she says, a smile on the corner of her lips, almost there.
"Why? It was funny."
"No it wasn't," Monica says. "You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Whatever happened to 'don't worry, honey, I'll listen to your thoughts'?" asks Chandler, amused.
"It was a misleading truth," Monica deadpans.
"Right," Chandler says, "should've known that."
Monica shrugs. "Okay, now. Where are we putting the toy chest?"
Chandler gives it some thought and reluctantly ventures, "At the foot of the bed?"
"Are you nuts? What if they fall in? Worse, what if they fall in and swallow som-" She stops. She interrupts herself. She looks at Chandler, and there's a glint of realization in her eye. "You're kidding again."
Chandler looks at her for a second, torn between telling the truth or... not telling the truth. Or discussing. Or not.
Finally, he forces himself to smile and say, "You got me."
Monica hits him in the arm again, lighter this time, though it still hurts. "Great."
Chandler smiles and goes back to his chair. In the corner.
Sometimes growing up means sitting down and letting your wife take over.