sunnydale pinto
Again for the fic giveaway. This time significantly more relevant.
Adolescence takes on new dimensions when you attend a high school that’s directly over the hellmouth. Chris had seen his first vampires at his first school dance. He knew not to go down to the basement if he wanted to keep both his sanity and his life. And the day the jocks had tried to shove him into his locker he had discovered that he could do magic. He’d somehow ended up blasting them across the hall, and they leave him alone now. Not because they know he’s a warlock - normal people in Sunnydale are extremely good at pretending everything’s fine in the face of undeniable evidence. But they know he did something, and some instinct tells them they don’t want to experience it again. So Chris is left to himself.
That’s fine. He doesn’t really have a lot of time on his hands for socialising, what with his regular studies and his obsessive reading of every magic textbook he can lay his hands on. There aren’t enough hours in the day for all the things he needs to do. Chris has always had this thing. This thing about being the best at what he chooses to do. So he’s always made sure he’s top in every class, and when he was on the football team in Junior High, before he got his weirdo reputation, he’d practised into the night. And now there was the magic thing. He didn’t choose it, but it’s wicked cool and so he figures, what the hell, he wants to kick ass at this too.
Chris has become known for walking swiftly from class to class with a pile of books and a tired, head-in-the-clouds expression. When he’s not in class, he’s in the library, either getting homework done early or searching for the library’s less… traditional books. It was unexpected when he discovered the first one, but when he thinks about it it totally makes sense: this is Sunnydale. Of course there are spell books hidden in the school library. Whoever left them was a secretive bastard, though. They’re always in the last place Chris thinks to look, and he’s certain they’ve been enchanted to move around. So finding the spell books has become kind of an obsession of his, which he pursues only when he thinks no one can see him.
Which is how he comes to be lying on his belly, wiggling embarrassingly and trying to reach a dark shape under one of the very lowest shelves that has to be one of them, come on. And a voice says, “Um, sorry,” and Zachary Quinto steps awkwardly over him.
And Chris, like, dies.
See, there’s this other thing about Chris. It kind of pales into insignificance next to the whole magic thing, but some people seem to think it’s important: he’s gay. At least, he’s gay for Zachary, and that’s what counts.
Zachary… Zachary’s a year older than Chris, give or take. And he is just… so hot. Chris is an articulate guy, but if asked to describe Zachary he’d probably just wave his hands a lot and say, “Hot. Seriously. He’s really, really hot,” because where to begin? His severe, expressive eyebrows, or the soulful eyes beneath them? The apparently-incidental designer stubble thing he’s got going on? His long, long skinny legs? The elegance of his movements? His glasses?
Aside from being blindingly attractive, Chris has discovered that he and Zachary have a lot in common. He takes all the same classes as Chris, just a year ahead, and from listening in on various conversations going on around him Chris has discovered that the object of his affections is pretty damn smart. (Of course he is. Chris has excellent taste.) Chris sees him in the library a lot, actually, and he always has his nose in some ridiculously heavy book or other. A lot of them aren’t even on the syllabus - Chris checked - which means he reads them for pleasure and oh, be still his beating heart.
Chris also discovered - just as he was passing by, of course - that Zachary runs on the track after school. Not as part of any kind of team activity, that would be far too social for Zachary, (Zachary’s a loner, it’s hot) but presumably as some kind of stress-reliever. At least, that’s why Chris runs. Until that point, he’d been killing two birds with one stone and just running home, but seeing Zachary lope along the hard asphalt had made him decide that maybe it would be good to get a change of scene. He doesn’t run there every day, doesn’t want a reputation as a stalker on top of everything else, but he likes to see Zachary in what seems like kind of a private half-hour.
Anyway, the point is that Chris would totally be able to start a really interesting conversation with Zachary on any number of topics if it weren’t for the fact that he turns into a stuttering fool whenever he’s anywhere near the boy. A situation not likely to be rectified by being caught lying on his stomach on the (probably filthy) library floor. Lying in Zachary’s way, no less. Chris flees.
He’d planned to run on the track that afternoon, but he’s too mortified, so instead he creeps back through the library, grabbing the book (which is of course within easy reach now) on his way. He’s going to spend his evening learning fun new ways to mess with the universe and forgetting all about any incidents involving library floors and hot boys with whom Chris doesn’t have a hope. Apart from the fact that Chris is completely lame, Zachary appears to be straight.
Chris sighs and looks longingly in the direction of the track, the huffs impatiently. It’s time to be less pathetic. He’s got spells to research.
***
It’s midnight, and Chris only just noticed. And he’s too tired to really read the book anymore, but he’s trying anyway because, man, some of this shit is messed up. He really doesn’t know what the previous owner would have needed it for. He really doesn’t want to know. Why, for instance, would you need a spell to unpeel your own flesh? Or torturing an enemy by… ugh, he’s not even sure what that is? Or switch your gender?
Well, actually, you might do that last one for all kinds of reasons. Like seducing pretty straight boys you have a crush on. And maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or the fact that Chris hasn’t had a proper conversation with someone his own age for so long that he’s gone completely crazy, but in this moment this seems like the best idea he’s ever had.
**
He decides to implement his plan the following week. This is a complicated spell, and there are things he needs to get before he can do it. This needs to be as under-the-radar and cheap as possible, so his best option is Creepy Anton.
Creepy Anton hangs out under the bleachers, and as far as anyone knows has never actually attended a class. He’s probably half-demon - you can see weird markings just peeking out from under his collar, and his eyes are more yellow than they should be. He looks about fifteen. For all Chris knows, he could be fifteen hundred. He sells seriously powerful shit at rock-bottom prices for no reason Chris can see, other than that he likes making people feel he’s got something on them. Chris doesn’t like going to him, but he can’t afford not to. He doesn’t have time for a job, and his parents won’t give him extra cash unless he can tell them what it’s for. So far he hasn’t thought of a convincing enough lie.
So anyway, he visits Anton over lunch, hands him the list of things he needs, and waits while Anton reads it. Anton’s eyes move faster than they should, and he smirks at Chris when he’s done. Like he knows what Chris wants the stuff for. “I’ll have most of this for you by the end of the day,” he murmurs, glancing up, ever-wary of prying ears. “But this…” he points to the words devilroot and lizard-eyes, “might take a couple days.”>
Adolescence takes on new dimensions when you attend a high school that’s directly over the hellmouth. Chris had seen his first vampires at his first school dance. He knew not to go down to the basement if he wanted to keep both his sanity and his life. And the day the jocks had tried to shove him into his locker he had discovered that he could do magic. He’d somehow ended up blasting them across the hall, and they leave him alone now. Not because they know he’s a warlock - normal people in Sunnydale are extremely good at pretending everything’s fine in the face of undeniable evidence. But they know he did something, and some instinct tells them they don’t want to experience it again. So Chris is left to himself.
That’s fine. He doesn’t really have a lot of time on his hands for socialising, what with his regular studies and his obsessive reading of every magic textbook he can lay his hands on. There aren’t enough hours in the day for all the things he needs to do. Chris has always had this thing. This thing about being the best at what he chooses to do. So he’s always made sure he’s top in every class, and when he was on the football team in Junior High, before he got his weirdo reputation, he’d practised into the night. And now there was the magic thing. He didn’t choose it, but it’s wicked cool and so he figures, what the hell, he wants to kick ass at this too.
Chris has become known for walking swiftly from class to class with a pile of books and a tired, head-in-the-clouds expression. When he’s not in class, he’s in the library, either getting homework done early or searching for the library’s less… traditional books. It was unexpected when he discovered the first one, but when he thinks about it it totally makes sense: this is Sunnydale. Of course there are spell books hidden in the school library. Whoever left them was a secretive bastard, though. They’re always in the last place Chris thinks to look, and he’s certain they’ve been enchanted to move around. So finding the spell books has become kind of an obsession of his, which he pursues only when he thinks no one can see him.
Which is how he comes to be lying on his belly, wiggling embarrassingly and trying to reach a dark shape under one of the very lowest shelves that has to be one of them, come on. And a voice says, “Um, sorry,” and Zachary Quinto steps awkwardly over him.
And Chris, like, dies.
See, there’s this other thing about Chris. It kind of pales into insignificance next to the whole magic thing, but some people seem to think it’s important: he’s gay. At least, he’s gay for Zachary, and that’s what counts.
Zachary… Zachary’s a year older than Chris, give or take. And he is just… so hot. Chris is an articulate guy, but if asked to describe Zachary he’d probably just wave his hands a lot and say, “Hot. Seriously. He’s really, really hot,” because where to begin? His severe, expressive eyebrows, or the soulful eyes beneath them? The apparently-incidental designer stubble thing he’s got going on? His long, long skinny legs? The elegance of his movements? His glasses?
Aside from being blindingly attractive, Chris has discovered that he and Zachary have a lot in common. He takes all the same classes as Chris, just a year ahead, and from listening in on various conversations going on around him Chris has discovered that the object of his affections is pretty damn smart. (Of course he is. Chris has excellent taste.) Chris sees him in the library a lot, actually, and he always has his nose in some ridiculously heavy book or other. A lot of them aren’t even on the syllabus - Chris checked - which means he reads them for pleasure and oh, be still his beating heart.
Chris also discovered - just as he was passing by, of course - that Zachary runs on the track after school. Not as part of any kind of team activity, that would be far too social for Zachary, (Zachary’s a loner, it’s hot) but presumably as some kind of stress-reliever. At least, that’s why Chris runs. Until that point, he’d been killing two birds with one stone and just running home, but seeing Zachary lope along the hard asphalt had made him decide that maybe it would be good to get a change of scene. He doesn’t run there every day, doesn’t want a reputation as a stalker on top of everything else, but he likes to see Zachary in what seems like kind of a private half-hour.
Anyway, the point is that Chris would totally be able to start a really interesting conversation with Zachary on any number of topics if it weren’t for the fact that he turns into a stuttering fool whenever he’s anywhere near the boy. A situation not likely to be rectified by being caught lying on his stomach on the (probably filthy) library floor. Lying in Zachary’s way, no less. Chris flees.
He’d planned to run on the track that afternoon, but he’s too mortified, so instead he creeps back through the library, grabbing the book (which is of course within easy reach now) on his way. He’s going to spend his evening learning fun new ways to mess with the universe and forgetting all about any incidents involving library floors and hot boys with whom Chris doesn’t have a hope. Apart from the fact that Chris is completely lame, Zachary appears to be straight.
Chris sighs and looks longingly in the direction of the track, the huffs impatiently. It’s time to be less pathetic. He’s got spells to research.
***
It’s midnight, and Chris only just noticed. And he’s too tired to really read the book anymore, but he’s trying anyway because, man, some of this shit is messed up. He really doesn’t know what the previous owner would have needed it for. He really doesn’t want to know. Why, for instance, would you need a spell to unpeel your own flesh? Or torturing an enemy by… ugh, he’s not even sure what that is? Or switch your gender?
Well, actually, you might do that last one for all kinds of reasons. Like seducing pretty straight boys you have a crush on. And maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or the fact that Chris hasn’t had a proper conversation with someone his own age for so long that he’s gone completely crazy, but in this moment this seems like the best idea he’s ever had.
**
He decides to implement his plan the following week. This is a complicated spell, and there are things he needs to get before he can do it. This needs to be as under-the-radar and cheap as possible, so his best option is Creepy Anton.
Creepy Anton hangs out under the bleachers, and as far as anyone knows has never actually attended a class. He’s probably half-demon - you can see weird markings just peeking out from under his collar, and his eyes are more yellow than they should be. He looks about fifteen. For all Chris knows, he could be fifteen hundred. He sells seriously powerful shit at rock-bottom prices for no reason Chris can see, other than that he likes making people feel he’s got something on them. Chris doesn’t like going to him, but he can’t afford not to. He doesn’t have time for a job, and his parents won’t give him extra cash unless he can tell them what it’s for. So far he hasn’t thought of a convincing enough lie.
So anyway, he visits Anton over lunch, hands him the list of things he needs, and waits while Anton reads it. Anton’s eyes move faster than they should, and he smirks at Chris when he’s done. Like he knows what Chris wants the stuff for. “I’ll have most of this for you by the end of the day,” he murmurs, glancing up, ever-wary of prying ears. “But this…” he points to the words devilroot and lizard-eyes, “might take a couple days.”>