Licorice, 15
Author: sunsetsinthewes
Challenge: 15. The cupboard was bare
Word Count: 1215
Rating: PG (for, shockingly, only one swear)
Story: Polyfaceted; the title of this story is CJTHLIMWAB.
Summary: Johnny and Michael have been together for awhile now and Michael feels it's time to move to the next level. In order to do so, he devised a Cunning Plan.
Notes: This take place throughout the first half of 2010 and is only slightly odd. Much thanks to subluxate for the Johnny speak. Fics like these are what happen when Michael gets to talking.
***
Michael's plan of attack (formerly known as Convince Johnny That His Life Is Meaningless Without A Baby-- CJTHLIMWAB for short; he's still working on an acronym that doesn't sound like a Lovecraft monster) starts off slow before building to outrageously blatant heights. He figures that subtle is the way to go-- best not to shock Johnny's system with too much at once.
***
He put his first step into effect one Saturday morning during a spectacular sale at Barney's. While Johnny listlessly browses stacks of designer jeans, Michael inconspicuously slips away. Of course the infant section is on the other side of the store, but he's always been a fast sprinter and manages to return before Johnny's had too much time to notice.
"H... Hey," Michael pants, plastering a casual smile on his face.
"Uh, hey." Johnny leans in, peering. "Are ya sweatin'? Michael, ya all right?"
"Fine," Michael assures him, struggling to ignore the stitch in his side. "Just, you know. Look what I found." He proudly lifts the minuscule pink onesie, waving it a little to show its various angles. "Isn't it adorable?"
Johnny laughs, snatching the onesie and tossing it onto a nearby shelf. "Don' think it'll fit ya. C'mon, we both need some new dress shirts."
***
A few weeks later, Michael has an opportunity to engage step three. While cooing over tiny clothes and repeatedly reminding Johnny of all the cool toys kids get to play with didn't work, he's sure this will. His problem is that, until now, he's been working with the mere idea of a child and nothing as concrete an actual child.
They're on a leisurely walk one spring afternoon when they conveniently stumble upon a nearby playground teeming with children of various ages.
"Oh my god, I didn't know this was here," Michael exclaims in complete and total surprise.
Johnny cocks an eyebrow. "What? Ya go runnin' in this park four times a week."
"Well, yeah, but the paths don't come to this side."
"Ain't that the runnin' path right there?" Johnny asks, pointing.
"It's been so long since I've had an excuse to go to a playground," Michael loudly interjects, hoping to drown Johnny out. "I forgot how fun it could be, spending a day chasing a kid all over the monkey bars. I'm starting to miss it." At that moment, a small girl falls out of a wildly careening tire swing, vomiting before she even hits the ground.
"Yeah, looks like fun all right."
***
Planning an excursion to a children's bookstore seems to work at first, until Johnny starts making blatant sexual jokes regarding Dr. Suess. Volunteering to chaperone Johnny's nieces and their elementary class on a field trip to a children museum turns out to be a blast, and Michael's first real victory-- that is, if you count losing two kids and one shoe a victory. And while Johnny did manage to locate the missing children (but no shoe), the sight of his none-too-pleased face as he approached caused spontaneous sobbing and one pair of wet pants.
But this one is bound to work. After making sure to use a prepaid card he recently picked up, Michael orders the crib and changing table set from a boutique, taking great pains to misspell his name but clearly input the address. When it arrives, six to eight weeks later, Johnny's in Florida on business, and Michael is forced to set the thing aside. He finally remembers to lug it out after nearly three months have passed entirely.
"Look what just arrived in the mail!" Michael cries out with an amused tone he did not spend a week practicing. "How funny! They must have the wrong Robertson."
Johnny lowers his magazine, peering at the plain, flat, brown box. "What is it?"
"It's a crib," Michael supplies. "For a Mrs. Michelle Roberts, I think. How odd!"
"How d'ya know it's a crib?" Johnny gestures, returning to his reading. "The box don' say anythin'."
"Oh. Because, um. Because the delivery man told me."
Johnny's Look returns in full force. "We should be sure ta thank him for makin' the effort ta deliver on Sunday."
Damn it.
***
Michael's down to his last few tricks (having lost his CJTHLIMWAB Plan ages ago) and, to be a little honest, he's loath to actually do anything as drastic as kidnap a child just get a hint across. Sure, he threatens just that very crime each time they stumble upon an adorable baby in a grocery store or restaurant, but he's not sure that he could actually follow through.
Instead, he does the next best thing. "I need your kids."
"What?" Charles' voice is nearly impossible to hear, thanks to the hospital din behind him. "Look, make this quick, I'm seeing a patient in five."
"I need. Your kids," Michael enunciates. "A weekend should do it."
Charles laughs. "Why would you do that? They're hellions. You'd have to be insane to willingly take them for a whole weekend."
"Look, I'm running out of ideas and I lost the Plan and you know that I have never been that good at war strategy stuff to begin with. I'm desperate over here." Michael's aware that he's shamelessly begging, but he lost his pride a long time ago and considers it for the best. "I want a baby, damn it. A caring brother would help me get one."
"Fine, fine, okay. Next weekend, we'll bring them up," Charles agrees. "Just promise not to beg for use of my wife next."
"Deal."
***
"There's peanut butter on the ceiling fan," Johnny casually remarks.
Michael drops his sponge with a splash, letting out a loud, "Damn it! It never stops. I still can't figure out where they got the glitter from and I swear to you, Johnny, we're better off just putting that couch in the dumpster and buying an entirely new one." He sighs, flopping across the armchair and into Johnny's lap. "This was not the weekend I imagined."
"I tol' ya it wouldn't be all playgrounds an' tea parties an' Disney movies," Johnny gently reminds him. "Kids're hard work. Trust me, I've had plenty experience with that."
"Yeah," Michael mutters, the perfect picture of utter dejection. "It's just... well, I want the Disney movies and playground and tea parties. And the monster trucks and jumping out of trees and reading bedtime stories. I was just hoping I'd be able to handle the other side too."
Johnny chuckles deep in his chest. "Ya did great. No vomit, no blood, no one attempted ta mail anyone else ta Aruba. That's what we call a success. C'mon, let's go to bed." They stand and stagger into the back bedroom with what little energy they've managed to retain. "By the way, I was thinkin' a callin' a few adoption agencies tomorrow. See what it takes ta get started."
Michael stills, halfway through pulling his shirt off. After a few minutes to recover from the shock and a few more minutes to get untangled from his v-neck, he croaks, "Seriously? You mean that, you want to have kids? With me?" His plan actually worked? It worked!
"A course I do." Johnny finishes changing and slides into bed, adding, "It's been torture, waitin' for ya ta finish makin' a fool a yourself while you were goin' through that list." He graciously ignores the way Michael jumps at this sudden knowledge. "By the way, how the fuck d'ya pronounce CJTHLIMWAB?"
***
Challenge: 15. The cupboard was bare
Word Count: 1215
Rating: PG (for, shockingly, only one swear)
Story: Polyfaceted; the title of this story is CJTHLIMWAB.
Summary: Johnny and Michael have been together for awhile now and Michael feels it's time to move to the next level. In order to do so, he devised a Cunning Plan.
Notes: This take place throughout the first half of 2010 and is only slightly odd. Much thanks to subluxate for the Johnny speak. Fics like these are what happen when Michael gets to talking.
***
Michael's plan of attack (formerly known as Convince Johnny That His Life Is Meaningless Without A Baby-- CJTHLIMWAB for short; he's still working on an acronym that doesn't sound like a Lovecraft monster) starts off slow before building to outrageously blatant heights. He figures that subtle is the way to go-- best not to shock Johnny's system with too much at once.
***
He put his first step into effect one Saturday morning during a spectacular sale at Barney's. While Johnny listlessly browses stacks of designer jeans, Michael inconspicuously slips away. Of course the infant section is on the other side of the store, but he's always been a fast sprinter and manages to return before Johnny's had too much time to notice.
"H... Hey," Michael pants, plastering a casual smile on his face.
"Uh, hey." Johnny leans in, peering. "Are ya sweatin'? Michael, ya all right?"
"Fine," Michael assures him, struggling to ignore the stitch in his side. "Just, you know. Look what I found." He proudly lifts the minuscule pink onesie, waving it a little to show its various angles. "Isn't it adorable?"
Johnny laughs, snatching the onesie and tossing it onto a nearby shelf. "Don' think it'll fit ya. C'mon, we both need some new dress shirts."
***
A few weeks later, Michael has an opportunity to engage step three. While cooing over tiny clothes and repeatedly reminding Johnny of all the cool toys kids get to play with didn't work, he's sure this will. His problem is that, until now, he's been working with the mere idea of a child and nothing as concrete an actual child.
They're on a leisurely walk one spring afternoon when they conveniently stumble upon a nearby playground teeming with children of various ages.
"Oh my god, I didn't know this was here," Michael exclaims in complete and total surprise.
Johnny cocks an eyebrow. "What? Ya go runnin' in this park four times a week."
"Well, yeah, but the paths don't come to this side."
"Ain't that the runnin' path right there?" Johnny asks, pointing.
"It's been so long since I've had an excuse to go to a playground," Michael loudly interjects, hoping to drown Johnny out. "I forgot how fun it could be, spending a day chasing a kid all over the monkey bars. I'm starting to miss it." At that moment, a small girl falls out of a wildly careening tire swing, vomiting before she even hits the ground.
"Yeah, looks like fun all right."
***
Planning an excursion to a children's bookstore seems to work at first, until Johnny starts making blatant sexual jokes regarding Dr. Suess. Volunteering to chaperone Johnny's nieces and their elementary class on a field trip to a children museum turns out to be a blast, and Michael's first real victory-- that is, if you count losing two kids and one shoe a victory. And while Johnny did manage to locate the missing children (but no shoe), the sight of his none-too-pleased face as he approached caused spontaneous sobbing and one pair of wet pants.
But this one is bound to work. After making sure to use a prepaid card he recently picked up, Michael orders the crib and changing table set from a boutique, taking great pains to misspell his name but clearly input the address. When it arrives, six to eight weeks later, Johnny's in Florida on business, and Michael is forced to set the thing aside. He finally remembers to lug it out after nearly three months have passed entirely.
"Look what just arrived in the mail!" Michael cries out with an amused tone he did not spend a week practicing. "How funny! They must have the wrong Robertson."
Johnny lowers his magazine, peering at the plain, flat, brown box. "What is it?"
"It's a crib," Michael supplies. "For a Mrs. Michelle Roberts, I think. How odd!"
"How d'ya know it's a crib?" Johnny gestures, returning to his reading. "The box don' say anythin'."
"Oh. Because, um. Because the delivery man told me."
Johnny's Look returns in full force. "We should be sure ta thank him for makin' the effort ta deliver on Sunday."
Damn it.
***
Michael's down to his last few tricks (having lost his CJTHLIMWAB Plan ages ago) and, to be a little honest, he's loath to actually do anything as drastic as kidnap a child just get a hint across. Sure, he threatens just that very crime each time they stumble upon an adorable baby in a grocery store or restaurant, but he's not sure that he could actually follow through.
Instead, he does the next best thing. "I need your kids."
"What?" Charles' voice is nearly impossible to hear, thanks to the hospital din behind him. "Look, make this quick, I'm seeing a patient in five."
"I need. Your kids," Michael enunciates. "A weekend should do it."
Charles laughs. "Why would you do that? They're hellions. You'd have to be insane to willingly take them for a whole weekend."
"Look, I'm running out of ideas and I lost the Plan and you know that I have never been that good at war strategy stuff to begin with. I'm desperate over here." Michael's aware that he's shamelessly begging, but he lost his pride a long time ago and considers it for the best. "I want a baby, damn it. A caring brother would help me get one."
"Fine, fine, okay. Next weekend, we'll bring them up," Charles agrees. "Just promise not to beg for use of my wife next."
"Deal."
***
"There's peanut butter on the ceiling fan," Johnny casually remarks.
Michael drops his sponge with a splash, letting out a loud, "Damn it! It never stops. I still can't figure out where they got the glitter from and I swear to you, Johnny, we're better off just putting that couch in the dumpster and buying an entirely new one." He sighs, flopping across the armchair and into Johnny's lap. "This was not the weekend I imagined."
"I tol' ya it wouldn't be all playgrounds an' tea parties an' Disney movies," Johnny gently reminds him. "Kids're hard work. Trust me, I've had plenty experience with that."
"Yeah," Michael mutters, the perfect picture of utter dejection. "It's just... well, I want the Disney movies and playground and tea parties. And the monster trucks and jumping out of trees and reading bedtime stories. I was just hoping I'd be able to handle the other side too."
Johnny chuckles deep in his chest. "Ya did great. No vomit, no blood, no one attempted ta mail anyone else ta Aruba. That's what we call a success. C'mon, let's go to bed." They stand and stagger into the back bedroom with what little energy they've managed to retain. "By the way, I was thinkin' a callin' a few adoption agencies tomorrow. See what it takes ta get started."
Michael stills, halfway through pulling his shirt off. After a few minutes to recover from the shock and a few more minutes to get untangled from his v-neck, he croaks, "Seriously? You mean that, you want to have kids? With me?" His plan actually worked? It worked!
"A course I do." Johnny finishes changing and slides into bed, adding, "It's been torture, waitin' for ya ta finish makin' a fool a yourself while you were goin' through that list." He graciously ignores the way Michael jumps at this sudden knowledge. "By the way, how the fuck d'ya pronounce CJTHLIMWAB?"
***