Fic: The threat level has been raised to chicken, Gen/pre-slash, RPS (Adrian Pasdar, Milo V)
Title: The threat level has been raised to chicken
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adrian Pasdar/Milo Ventimiglia, pre-slash
Other characters: David Boreanaz, Christian Kane
Spoilers: No
Warnings: Crack fic is addictive
Disclaimer: Yeah, like I know what goes on with them, this is all make believe.
A/N: Happy late b-day to Sparky77, lover of all things Adrian. This started in chat as lots of ideas do. Big thanks to Skripka and Sandersyager for their input.
Summary: Socks, chickens, crushes, the usual day for Milo
Milo was on his cell phone when it happened. He and Adrian were at a charity event, lots of Hollywood people, lots of mutual admiration.
“Wow, where’d you get those socks? Those are pretty cool.”
Milo turned his head and watched in paralyzed horror as Adrian admired some tall guy’s green and purple socks. The guy smiled and said something, but Milo couldn’t hear him over the voice in his head. It yelled at him to get Adrian out of there, right now, before he and the guy became the best of friends and made a shopping date.
Judging by the gleeful expression each man wore, that date would end in tears for Milo once Adrian came back and proudly displayed his black and white striped dinner jacket, or his lavender socks with little black dolphins on them.
He saw Zach across the room and grabbed Adrian’s arm. “There’s Zach. Let’s go say hi.” He nodded vaguely at the tall guy like he sometimes did to people when they stared at him and he didn’t know if they wanted a autograph.
Milo breathed a sigh of relief as they talked to Zach, then left the party with no more eventful run-ins.
Two days later he dropped by to see if Adrian wanted to run out and get lunch. Adrian was in his home office typing up something on his computer. Milo lounged in the doorway and took off his sunglasses.
“What are you doing?”
Adrian shut his computer down. “I was sending a thank-you note to David.”
Milo frowned. “Who’s David?”
That’s when he noticed the orange and bright blue socks Adrian was wearing. Even worse, if such a thing were possible, was the fact that they were toe socks, an individual spot for each toe. Milo was a trained actor, not a saint, and he couldn’t stop the blatant look of horror that formed on his face. "They--you--Adrian."
He buried his face in his hands, a migraine already forming behind his eyes. He succeeded in not groaning and begging Adrian to burn the things.
Adrian turned and wiggled his feet at Milo. “That guy at the fundraiser the other night. David Boreanaz. He sent me some socks since I’d admired his. There was a card and an email address, so I sent him a thank you.” He wiggled his toes harder. Or maybe his feet were trying to escape and run away. “Aren’t they great? He says they glow in the dark.”
Milo bit his lip to keep from screaming. He could see all his hard work with Adrian going down the tubes. And Natalie was going to kill him. First she’d lecture him, maybe shake her ‘mom’ finger at him, and then she’d kill him. She had friends in Texas and they’d hide his body. He’d become the next Jimmy Hoffa and sixty years from now, Geraldo Rivera would find him and make a big television special.
He doesn’t tell Adrian any of his fears. If he criticized the socks or mocked them, Adrian might turn stubborn and wear them everywhere, possibly without shoes. Since Adrian was on a hit TV show, people would let him get away with that crap. Milo hoped the look on his face showed mild interest with a touch of boredom. “Yeah, okay. You want to go get lunch?”
Adrian changed clothes, and more importantly, socks, and they took off. After a great long lunch, they ended up at Milo’s watching old Humphrey Bogart movies. While Adrian snored on his couch, Milo googled David Boreanaz and smirked at what he found. Another few clicks on his computer, one phone call to find an address, and he was done.
It took three days to find out the results of his late night shopping. Adrian called him and before Milo could say anything he growled, “Did you send David a pair of house shoes that look like chickens? And a hat with a stuffed toy chicken on it?”
Milo snickered and tried not to laugh. “Why do you ask? And it’s David now? How cute.” He pushed his mild jealousy away and reminded himself that this was not high school. If his co-worker and occasional houseguest wanted to hang out with other guys, it was none of his business.
“He emailed me. He said there was a card and it said, ‘Stop sending people socks or next time the chickens you get will be real.’ Really, Milo. The guy was just being nice.”
Milo squeezed his cell phone. “Yeah, uh huh. Before you know it, both of you will be searching through sock bins for all kinds of delightful things.”
Adrian sighed and Milo swallowed.
“I could buy you socks,” he blurted out.
Adrian was silent for what seemed like years, then he said, “You want to buy me socks?”
Milo beat his head against his refrigerator. It was the only way he could think of to prevent himself from saying other stupid stuff. He intended to change the subject, but what came out was, “Yes, no, not really, but we could go to Armani and see what they have available. You like Armani don’t you?” He held it out like a desperate parent with candy trying to bribe a child.
Adrian’s voice was soft. “Come to lunch at the house, okay?”
Milo agreed and hung up. Great, now Adrian thought he had some kinky sock fetish and needed an intervention. He didn’t want to tell Adrian that he just didn’t want Adrian accepting socks from strange men.
He showed up at Adrian’s two hours later and was very glad to discover it wasn’t an intervention. But it was some other thing. The guy was there, David. Milo wondered what would happen if he called him David Boring ass. He had a guy with him: short, ragged jeans and tee. He looked familiar and vaguely amused at the whole world. Milo wondered if he was high.
David moved closer. “Why’d you send me chicken stuff? I hate chickens.”
Milo crossed his arms and shrugged. He felt better when Adrian stood so close to him that their shoulders brushed.
“How do you know it was me?”
“Milo,” Adrian chided and Milo tried not to sulk. He gestured at Adrian with his thumb.
“He’s got enough weird stuff. He does not need glow in the dark socks from some guy who can barely dress himself without adding neon pink or bright purple.”
The short guy snickered then held out a hand. Milo shook it quickly. He might need his hands free if David took a swing at him.
“I’m Chris. I told Dave if he was really all that worried to go to the police with it.”
David rolled his eyes. “I am not going to tell the police someone threatened me with chickens.”
Milo bit his bottom lip and tried not to laugh, but one quick glance at Adrian’s amused face and he lost it. Chris joined them, while Dave frowned and muttered about friends and loyalty.
Milo relaxed and nudged Adrian’s shoulder. “Natalie is going to kill me. She was so happy when I took you shopping.” He nodded at David. “When she comes after me, I’ll just point her in your direction.”
Chris laughed. “Nahh, all he’s going to do is hide behind his own little blond firecracker.” He clapped a hand over the back of David’s neck. “If he starts sending your boy here ties and socks and weird ass dinner jackets, then place that order for a live chicken.”
Milo caught Adrian’s furtive look. “Did he give you some ties?”
Adrian held up both his hands in a ‘not me’ gesture. “I wasn’t going to wear them! Honest! Well, maybe the yellow one. And the rose one looked cool.” He looked at Milo. “I would have been thinking of you the whole time!”
Milo pouted and threw Chris a quick wink while Adrian was trying to reassure David that the ties were great, really. Milo interrupted before Adrian promised he’d replace every single tie with something painful looking, funny, or both.
“I thought you liked shopping with me? Are you saying you were faking it?”
Adrian licked his lips and grabbed Milo’s shoulders. He squeezed them and then let go to sling one arm around Milo’s waist. Milo struggled not to show surprise in front of David and Chris. He and Adrian touched all the time, but the weight of Adrian’s arm resting across the small of his back was enough to make Milo red-faced and stuttery.
Adrian tickled his side and Milo barely managed not to giggle. Adrian’s kids had found his ticklish spots weeks ago. He should have known Adrian would remember them and use the knowledge when he needed a distraction.
“Oh please,” Adrian drawled, “You know you’re the best. I promise not to go shopping with anyone else, okay?”
Milo crossed his arms and peered up at the ceiling like he had to think about it. A few seconds later, he nodded his head. “Agreed.” He narrowed his eyes at David. “Send a fruit basket next time.”
David raised a hand as if to argue, and Chris pulled him towards the front door by one of the belt loops on his pants. “He will. Nice to meet ya’ll.” Milo listened to Chris mutter as they went out the door. “I told you to stop trying to convert everyone who comments on your freakin’ footwear. Just be glad this guy didn’t send a guy in a giant chicken suit to your house like Jensen did.”
Milo smiled and stuffed his hands in his jeans. “Want to go shopping tomorrow? Dolce and Gabbana has some new stuff in.”
Adrian headed for the kitchen. “Do they have shoes, something in lime green?”
Milo sighed and trailed behind him. Rome wasn’t built in a day and Adrian’s wardrobe couldn’t be perfected in a few months. He’d have to call Natalie while they were shopping and make sure she got rid of the toe socks.
End.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adrian Pasdar/Milo Ventimiglia, pre-slash
Other characters: David Boreanaz, Christian Kane
Spoilers: No
Warnings: Crack fic is addictive
Disclaimer: Yeah, like I know what goes on with them, this is all make believe.
A/N: Happy late b-day to Sparky77, lover of all things Adrian. This started in chat as lots of ideas do. Big thanks to Skripka and Sandersyager for their input.
Summary: Socks, chickens, crushes, the usual day for Milo
Milo was on his cell phone when it happened. He and Adrian were at a charity event, lots of Hollywood people, lots of mutual admiration.
“Wow, where’d you get those socks? Those are pretty cool.”
Milo turned his head and watched in paralyzed horror as Adrian admired some tall guy’s green and purple socks. The guy smiled and said something, but Milo couldn’t hear him over the voice in his head. It yelled at him to get Adrian out of there, right now, before he and the guy became the best of friends and made a shopping date.
Judging by the gleeful expression each man wore, that date would end in tears for Milo once Adrian came back and proudly displayed his black and white striped dinner jacket, or his lavender socks with little black dolphins on them.
He saw Zach across the room and grabbed Adrian’s arm. “There’s Zach. Let’s go say hi.” He nodded vaguely at the tall guy like he sometimes did to people when they stared at him and he didn’t know if they wanted a autograph.
Milo breathed a sigh of relief as they talked to Zach, then left the party with no more eventful run-ins.
Two days later he dropped by to see if Adrian wanted to run out and get lunch. Adrian was in his home office typing up something on his computer. Milo lounged in the doorway and took off his sunglasses.
“What are you doing?”
Adrian shut his computer down. “I was sending a thank-you note to David.”
Milo frowned. “Who’s David?”
That’s when he noticed the orange and bright blue socks Adrian was wearing. Even worse, if such a thing were possible, was the fact that they were toe socks, an individual spot for each toe. Milo was a trained actor, not a saint, and he couldn’t stop the blatant look of horror that formed on his face. "They--you--Adrian."
He buried his face in his hands, a migraine already forming behind his eyes. He succeeded in not groaning and begging Adrian to burn the things.
Adrian turned and wiggled his feet at Milo. “That guy at the fundraiser the other night. David Boreanaz. He sent me some socks since I’d admired his. There was a card and an email address, so I sent him a thank you.” He wiggled his toes harder. Or maybe his feet were trying to escape and run away. “Aren’t they great? He says they glow in the dark.”
Milo bit his lip to keep from screaming. He could see all his hard work with Adrian going down the tubes. And Natalie was going to kill him. First she’d lecture him, maybe shake her ‘mom’ finger at him, and then she’d kill him. She had friends in Texas and they’d hide his body. He’d become the next Jimmy Hoffa and sixty years from now, Geraldo Rivera would find him and make a big television special.
He doesn’t tell Adrian any of his fears. If he criticized the socks or mocked them, Adrian might turn stubborn and wear them everywhere, possibly without shoes. Since Adrian was on a hit TV show, people would let him get away with that crap. Milo hoped the look on his face showed mild interest with a touch of boredom. “Yeah, okay. You want to go get lunch?”
Adrian changed clothes, and more importantly, socks, and they took off. After a great long lunch, they ended up at Milo’s watching old Humphrey Bogart movies. While Adrian snored on his couch, Milo googled David Boreanaz and smirked at what he found. Another few clicks on his computer, one phone call to find an address, and he was done.
It took three days to find out the results of his late night shopping. Adrian called him and before Milo could say anything he growled, “Did you send David a pair of house shoes that look like chickens? And a hat with a stuffed toy chicken on it?”
Milo snickered and tried not to laugh. “Why do you ask? And it’s David now? How cute.” He pushed his mild jealousy away and reminded himself that this was not high school. If his co-worker and occasional houseguest wanted to hang out with other guys, it was none of his business.
“He emailed me. He said there was a card and it said, ‘Stop sending people socks or next time the chickens you get will be real.’ Really, Milo. The guy was just being nice.”
Milo squeezed his cell phone. “Yeah, uh huh. Before you know it, both of you will be searching through sock bins for all kinds of delightful things.”
Adrian sighed and Milo swallowed.
“I could buy you socks,” he blurted out.
Adrian was silent for what seemed like years, then he said, “You want to buy me socks?”
Milo beat his head against his refrigerator. It was the only way he could think of to prevent himself from saying other stupid stuff. He intended to change the subject, but what came out was, “Yes, no, not really, but we could go to Armani and see what they have available. You like Armani don’t you?” He held it out like a desperate parent with candy trying to bribe a child.
Adrian’s voice was soft. “Come to lunch at the house, okay?”
Milo agreed and hung up. Great, now Adrian thought he had some kinky sock fetish and needed an intervention. He didn’t want to tell Adrian that he just didn’t want Adrian accepting socks from strange men.
He showed up at Adrian’s two hours later and was very glad to discover it wasn’t an intervention. But it was some other thing. The guy was there, David. Milo wondered what would happen if he called him David Boring ass. He had a guy with him: short, ragged jeans and tee. He looked familiar and vaguely amused at the whole world. Milo wondered if he was high.
David moved closer. “Why’d you send me chicken stuff? I hate chickens.”
Milo crossed his arms and shrugged. He felt better when Adrian stood so close to him that their shoulders brushed.
“How do you know it was me?”
“Milo,” Adrian chided and Milo tried not to sulk. He gestured at Adrian with his thumb.
“He’s got enough weird stuff. He does not need glow in the dark socks from some guy who can barely dress himself without adding neon pink or bright purple.”
The short guy snickered then held out a hand. Milo shook it quickly. He might need his hands free if David took a swing at him.
“I’m Chris. I told Dave if he was really all that worried to go to the police with it.”
David rolled his eyes. “I am not going to tell the police someone threatened me with chickens.”
Milo bit his bottom lip and tried not to laugh, but one quick glance at Adrian’s amused face and he lost it. Chris joined them, while Dave frowned and muttered about friends and loyalty.
Milo relaxed and nudged Adrian’s shoulder. “Natalie is going to kill me. She was so happy when I took you shopping.” He nodded at David. “When she comes after me, I’ll just point her in your direction.”
Chris laughed. “Nahh, all he’s going to do is hide behind his own little blond firecracker.” He clapped a hand over the back of David’s neck. “If he starts sending your boy here ties and socks and weird ass dinner jackets, then place that order for a live chicken.”
Milo caught Adrian’s furtive look. “Did he give you some ties?”
Adrian held up both his hands in a ‘not me’ gesture. “I wasn’t going to wear them! Honest! Well, maybe the yellow one. And the rose one looked cool.” He looked at Milo. “I would have been thinking of you the whole time!”
Milo pouted and threw Chris a quick wink while Adrian was trying to reassure David that the ties were great, really. Milo interrupted before Adrian promised he’d replace every single tie with something painful looking, funny, or both.
“I thought you liked shopping with me? Are you saying you were faking it?”
Adrian licked his lips and grabbed Milo’s shoulders. He squeezed them and then let go to sling one arm around Milo’s waist. Milo struggled not to show surprise in front of David and Chris. He and Adrian touched all the time, but the weight of Adrian’s arm resting across the small of his back was enough to make Milo red-faced and stuttery.
Adrian tickled his side and Milo barely managed not to giggle. Adrian’s kids had found his ticklish spots weeks ago. He should have known Adrian would remember them and use the knowledge when he needed a distraction.
“Oh please,” Adrian drawled, “You know you’re the best. I promise not to go shopping with anyone else, okay?”
Milo crossed his arms and peered up at the ceiling like he had to think about it. A few seconds later, he nodded his head. “Agreed.” He narrowed his eyes at David. “Send a fruit basket next time.”
David raised a hand as if to argue, and Chris pulled him towards the front door by one of the belt loops on his pants. “He will. Nice to meet ya’ll.” Milo listened to Chris mutter as they went out the door. “I told you to stop trying to convert everyone who comments on your freakin’ footwear. Just be glad this guy didn’t send a guy in a giant chicken suit to your house like Jensen did.”
Milo smiled and stuffed his hands in his jeans. “Want to go shopping tomorrow? Dolce and Gabbana has some new stuff in.”
Adrian headed for the kitchen. “Do they have shoes, something in lime green?”
Milo sighed and trailed behind him. Rome wasn’t built in a day and Adrian’s wardrobe couldn’t be perfected in a few months. He’d have to call Natalie while they were shopping and make sure she got rid of the toe socks.
End.