Chocolate, Pistachio, Cayenne, CCM, Mocha Smoothie
Authors: Marina and Casey
Story: Shifts universe (pre-Shifts)
Challenge: Chocolate 11 (confusion), Pistachio 9 (birth/birthday) [Marina]; Cayenne 5 (break it up), Chocolate Chip Mint 3 (flamboyant), Mocha 14 (don’t you dare) [Casey]
Toppings & Extras: Rainbow Sprinkles (Rand and Grayson), Smoothie
Word Count: 1,076
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rand’s eighteenth birthday gets off to a bizarre start.
Notes: This...just kind of happened.
"Happy birthday, darling!" Grayson sang, skipping into the room.
All Rand could muster, in his still-mostly-asleep state, was a muttered string of profanities as he acknowledged Grayson's presence. When he did not receive a reply, he began to question it, blinking to clear his vision. "What the hell are you doing-holy shit!"
Grayson beamed and promptly struck a pose. "Good morning, sweet potato!"
"What in God's name are you wearing?"
He actually curtseyed. "Randdd," he whined. "You're not that slow!"
There is no fucking way this can be real, Rand thought, staring in complete horror at the younger boy's ensemble-a frilly dress with a floral pattern that Lynne's grandmother had given her as a birthday present, which Lynne had sworn up and down that she would never, ever wear, stuffed to be anatomically correct and accentuated with cheap jewelry. Grayson had even drawn his just-barely-long-enough hair into pigtails for the occasion. "I thought Lynne donated that piece of crap to Goodwill months ago."
"She did! My goodwill!" Grayson said, all wild beaming again.
"I am not seeing this," Rand grumbled, rolling over and covering his pillow with his head.
Grayson, unperturbed by this, bounded over and jumped on Rand in an almost full body tackle. "Wakey-wakey!"
"Get off me, you lunatic!" He attempted to swat Grayson off him with the pillow.
Grayson, still sitting on him, reached over and patted Rand on his head. "It's your eighteenth birthday. Don't you want to celebrate?" he asked wide eyed.
Rand paused long enough to give him the stink eye. "I don't know what you have in mind, you twisted little bastard, but it is not-Mom!"
Molly laughed, lowering the digital camera. "You're going to want that picture in twenty years, sweetheart."
"No, I will not."
Grayson pouted at him, even as he flashed Molly a grin. "I make a special trip here to wish you a happy birthday and this is what I get for it? No gratitude!"
"I wanted to sleep in, not get molested by some crossdressing twat!"
He just patted Rand on the head again. "You love me. And anyway, it's eleven. That's late enough."
"Get off me before I smash your skull." He heaved a long-suffering sigh and slid off Rand's back before looking at him expectantly. "Thank you," Rand said tightly. Grayson continued to look at him. "What?"
"It is time for your birthday hug," he said solemnly.
"Oh hell no-"
"Rand, watch your language," Molly said mildly.
Grayson opened his arms. "Come here, Randy," he said, still keeping a straight face.
"Do not call me that." Rand grabbed his other pillow and attempted to make a barricade, sincerely creeped out not only by the request, but the way it had been put.
"Call you what?" Grayson asked, all innocence. Molly was giggling now, damn her.
"My name," he growled, "is not Randy. Do not ever call me that again."
"But I think it has a nice ring to it," he said, tilting his head in a gesture of thoughtfulness. "I've always liked names that end in the 'ee' sound. And it doesn't work with any of our other friends. Like Drewie or Lynnie. But Randy does! It's actually a name." He paused for a moment. "The dude who wrote the songs for Toy Story's name was Randy."
"No, Grayson."
He blinked, making his eyes as big as possible. "But it's true!"
Rand only scowled at him in reply. Grayson, as was his norm, instantly grinned. "Get out of my room."
"Can't!" Grayson said before squinting suspiciously at Rand. "Unless you sleep naked. In which case, I'd consider it."
"What? No!" he cried, before he could think to lie.
"Good. Since your mom's in the room and all."
"Get out of my room!"
"You're repeating yourself."
"You didn't listen the first time!"
For a moment, Rand was aware that he was getting a look at a different Grayson, but that was gone as soon as it had appeared. "No duh, Rand."
"I refuse to hug you while you're wearing that monstrosity," he said, figuring that if Grayson started climbing on him again, it would be justification enough for slugging him.
Instantly, he lit up. "Does that mean you'll hug me if I'm not wearing it?"
Taken aback, Rand did not answer for a moment. "Maybe?"
Grayson crossed his arms. "Not good enough."
Rand sighed heavily in frustration and turned to his mother. "Mom, make him leave."
"Sorry, sweetie," she said. "You're eighteen now. I am no longer responsible for your security."
He scowled freshly at her. "You are no longer my mother. You are an enemy."
"I knew I loved your mom!" Grayson said, slinging an arm around Molly's shoulders and beaming at Rand.
Thoroughly annoyed now, Rand glanced around his room for a weapon, settling on the nearest book and chucking it half-heartedly at Grayson's head. It barely missed, grazing his hair as it soared through the door and landed with a crunch of its pages face down and open on the living room floor.
"Okay, that's it," Molly said, scowling right back at him. "Get up and give Grayson a hug. Right now."
"Mom!"
"Do it!"
Grayson managed not to make a ‘told you so’ face but he did grin widely, watching Rand expectantly again. He let out a longsuffering sigh and made a show of getting out of bed, wincing at the sudden chill that reminded him that boxers were not much better than being stark naked. Grayson all but jumped into his arms, and before her son could protest, Molly took a picture of it. "All right, that's good enough," she said cheerfully.
"Love you, Rand," Grayson said happily.
Rand muttered something foul as he accepted the camera, in display mode, from Molly. "Did you hook your leg around me?" he demanded, blanching.
"I might have," he said innocently.
"Get out of my room, Grayson."
"Okay!" he said, beaming, sneaking another quick hug and a pat before bounding out of the room as quickly as he'd appeared.
Rand glanced at Molly, who tried valiantly not to laugh. "Are all mothers as sadistic as you?"
"I know you love him, really," she said, accepting her camera back. "He'll be coming back in a while with Lynne and Drew, so I'm going to go get your birthday waffles ready, and you should get dressed."
"Fine." At the very least, birthday waffles meant that his morning wasn't totally ruined.
Story: Shifts universe (pre-Shifts)
Challenge: Chocolate 11 (confusion), Pistachio 9 (birth/birthday) [Marina]; Cayenne 5 (break it up), Chocolate Chip Mint 3 (flamboyant), Mocha 14 (don’t you dare) [Casey]
Toppings & Extras: Rainbow Sprinkles (Rand and Grayson), Smoothie
Word Count: 1,076
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rand’s eighteenth birthday gets off to a bizarre start.
Notes: This...just kind of happened.
"Happy birthday, darling!" Grayson sang, skipping into the room.
All Rand could muster, in his still-mostly-asleep state, was a muttered string of profanities as he acknowledged Grayson's presence. When he did not receive a reply, he began to question it, blinking to clear his vision. "What the hell are you doing-holy shit!"
Grayson beamed and promptly struck a pose. "Good morning, sweet potato!"
"What in God's name are you wearing?"
He actually curtseyed. "Randdd," he whined. "You're not that slow!"
There is no fucking way this can be real, Rand thought, staring in complete horror at the younger boy's ensemble-a frilly dress with a floral pattern that Lynne's grandmother had given her as a birthday present, which Lynne had sworn up and down that she would never, ever wear, stuffed to be anatomically correct and accentuated with cheap jewelry. Grayson had even drawn his just-barely-long-enough hair into pigtails for the occasion. "I thought Lynne donated that piece of crap to Goodwill months ago."
"She did! My goodwill!" Grayson said, all wild beaming again.
"I am not seeing this," Rand grumbled, rolling over and covering his pillow with his head.
Grayson, unperturbed by this, bounded over and jumped on Rand in an almost full body tackle. "Wakey-wakey!"
"Get off me, you lunatic!" He attempted to swat Grayson off him with the pillow.
Grayson, still sitting on him, reached over and patted Rand on his head. "It's your eighteenth birthday. Don't you want to celebrate?" he asked wide eyed.
Rand paused long enough to give him the stink eye. "I don't know what you have in mind, you twisted little bastard, but it is not-Mom!"
Molly laughed, lowering the digital camera. "You're going to want that picture in twenty years, sweetheart."
"No, I will not."
Grayson pouted at him, even as he flashed Molly a grin. "I make a special trip here to wish you a happy birthday and this is what I get for it? No gratitude!"
"I wanted to sleep in, not get molested by some crossdressing twat!"
He just patted Rand on the head again. "You love me. And anyway, it's eleven. That's late enough."
"Get off me before I smash your skull." He heaved a long-suffering sigh and slid off Rand's back before looking at him expectantly. "Thank you," Rand said tightly. Grayson continued to look at him. "What?"
"It is time for your birthday hug," he said solemnly.
"Oh hell no-"
"Rand, watch your language," Molly said mildly.
Grayson opened his arms. "Come here, Randy," he said, still keeping a straight face.
"Do not call me that." Rand grabbed his other pillow and attempted to make a barricade, sincerely creeped out not only by the request, but the way it had been put.
"Call you what?" Grayson asked, all innocence. Molly was giggling now, damn her.
"My name," he growled, "is not Randy. Do not ever call me that again."
"But I think it has a nice ring to it," he said, tilting his head in a gesture of thoughtfulness. "I've always liked names that end in the 'ee' sound. And it doesn't work with any of our other friends. Like Drewie or Lynnie. But Randy does! It's actually a name." He paused for a moment. "The dude who wrote the songs for Toy Story's name was Randy."
"No, Grayson."
He blinked, making his eyes as big as possible. "But it's true!"
Rand only scowled at him in reply. Grayson, as was his norm, instantly grinned. "Get out of my room."
"Can't!" Grayson said before squinting suspiciously at Rand. "Unless you sleep naked. In which case, I'd consider it."
"What? No!" he cried, before he could think to lie.
"Good. Since your mom's in the room and all."
"Get out of my room!"
"You're repeating yourself."
"You didn't listen the first time!"
For a moment, Rand was aware that he was getting a look at a different Grayson, but that was gone as soon as it had appeared. "No duh, Rand."
"I refuse to hug you while you're wearing that monstrosity," he said, figuring that if Grayson started climbing on him again, it would be justification enough for slugging him.
Instantly, he lit up. "Does that mean you'll hug me if I'm not wearing it?"
Taken aback, Rand did not answer for a moment. "Maybe?"
Grayson crossed his arms. "Not good enough."
Rand sighed heavily in frustration and turned to his mother. "Mom, make him leave."
"Sorry, sweetie," she said. "You're eighteen now. I am no longer responsible for your security."
He scowled freshly at her. "You are no longer my mother. You are an enemy."
"I knew I loved your mom!" Grayson said, slinging an arm around Molly's shoulders and beaming at Rand.
Thoroughly annoyed now, Rand glanced around his room for a weapon, settling on the nearest book and chucking it half-heartedly at Grayson's head. It barely missed, grazing his hair as it soared through the door and landed with a crunch of its pages face down and open on the living room floor.
"Okay, that's it," Molly said, scowling right back at him. "Get up and give Grayson a hug. Right now."
"Mom!"
"Do it!"
Grayson managed not to make a ‘told you so’ face but he did grin widely, watching Rand expectantly again. He let out a longsuffering sigh and made a show of getting out of bed, wincing at the sudden chill that reminded him that boxers were not much better than being stark naked. Grayson all but jumped into his arms, and before her son could protest, Molly took a picture of it. "All right, that's good enough," she said cheerfully.
"Love you, Rand," Grayson said happily.
Rand muttered something foul as he accepted the camera, in display mode, from Molly. "Did you hook your leg around me?" he demanded, blanching.
"I might have," he said innocently.
"Get out of my room, Grayson."
"Okay!" he said, beaming, sneaking another quick hug and a pat before bounding out of the room as quickly as he'd appeared.
Rand glanced at Molly, who tried valiantly not to laugh. "Are all mothers as sadistic as you?"
"I know you love him, really," she said, accepting her camera back. "He'll be coming back in a while with Lynne and Drew, so I'm going to go get your birthday waffles ready, and you should get dressed."
"Fine." At the very least, birthday waffles meant that his morning wasn't totally ruined.