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I Like the Color Purple, Macaroni and Cheese ;; PG13
Title: I Like the Color Purple, Macaroni and Cheese
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG13
Summary: Zach likes old school boybands. Chris mocks.
Word Count: ~2000
Warnings: You may experience fangirly flashbacks to the late 90’s. Boyband mockery…they’re all fair game (Except BBMak and SoulDecision…because no one else knows who they are). Some language. General Crackiness.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys, the “bands”, the song titles/lyrics, or anything other than my word choice and clothes really. No clue what they really get up to in their spare time (but I seriously doubt it's this). I deal in lies, kids.
AN: Backstreet’s Back! Okay, so as you may have seen from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
b_dsaint’s AWESOME crack!fic, there was an EPIC boyband spazz out discussion on Twitter a little bit ago because, yes, BSB had returned (again…). Somehow that turned into a loose sequel to Romance is Dead or I Hate You and Your Lame Book, Too. Chris gets his revenge for the Twilight ridicule.
babykid528 and b_dsaint are enablers of the worst kind…This is for you, girlies.
I debated posting this because...well, I think it may be kind of crap and fail at being even REMOTELY funny. Apparently, I'm more funny when I'm writing Chris than Zach. Oh well. I promised the girls this...so they get it.
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[additional note: Title swiped from LFO’s “Summer Girls.” And since I could LITERALLY have whole conversations in old boyband titles/lyrics, they’re everywhere. Good luck spotting them all! ;)]
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“My ears are bleeding! My auditory canals have collapsed! My eardrums! They’ve ruptured!” Chris wailed, even if he would claim it was a manly shout. “What happened to the obscure bands no one else has heard of? I liked you better with more depth than a thirteen-year-old with some poster tape and a copy of Teen Beat.”
“Stop being melodramatic,” Zach sighed, pausing his iPod before it could move on to another unsavory tune. “It’s catchy. Tell me you won’t have that song in your head for a week.”
Chris scrunched up his nose. If he wasn’t so damn cute, Zach may have kicked him out of the car while doing 80. “Yeah, it’ll be there. In my nightmares. When you said Backstreet’s back, I thought you were being ironic.”
Zach huffed and reconsidered how bad an idea it was to introduce Chris to catchy pop music. When Zach pressed his foot to the accelerator, Chris snatched the iPod from its cradle and scrolled.
“No. Zach, tell me this isn’t an entire Backstreet Boys playlist!”
“It isn’t.” To avoid further humiliation, he tried to navigate a wide right-turn and snatch the player simultaneously. Chris, the jack ass, anticipated this and slammed his back against the door. When he gasped, Zach momentarily prayed he’d fallen out.
“L.F.O.? NSync? O-Town? 98 Degrees?” The younger man’s eyes were shining so bright Zach almost forgot to be annoyed. “Say it isn’t so!”
There was honestly only one defense in this situation, Zach latched onto it like an alley cat and a two day old tuna sandwich. “You can’t ridicule me for NSync.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
Zach shot him a Devil’s smirk. “I wasn’t the one dying to jump Timberlake after SNL.”
“You thought about it, too! Have you seen his eyes? And those shoulders?”
“Please contain the ’Sexy Back’ reference,” Zach sighed. This was the epitome of a losing situation, but Zach was too stubborn to admit it.
“I can appreciate a fine ass without liking his unfortunate musical past.” When Zach huffed, Chris continued. “I could have had him, too, but noooo you wanted to be all possessive. You would have been involved, you know.”
Involuntarily, Zach saw a tangle of sweaty limbs in a crowded dressing room. His mind went on to supply sets of blue eyes, toned abs, and, okay he was going to admit this, sexy backs. The shiver which surged through him pulled a loud chuckle from Chris. “Shut up.”
“It’s tearin’ up your heart, isn’t it? Having missed out on one hell of a three-some. With no strings attached, I might add.” A long suffering sigh filled the space until Zach’s hat abruptly met Chris’ face.
The only sound filling the car for the next few minutes was Chris' muffled giggles. Finally, Zach broke in with a Hail Mary. "You know, Backstreet Boys' new video involves vampires. You should appreciate that."
Chris had the audacity to scoff. "It's not a vampire thing; it's romance, you ass. We've been through this. Let it go, man."
"Any chance of you letting this go?"
"Not even remotely."
"Turn about's fair play." Here, he made the mistake of glancing in Chris' direction and caught the mischievous smirk in the glare of oncoming headlights.
"My sentiments exactly."
When Zach finally slammed his car into park by the curb in front of Chris’ place, he was bristling. As Chris leaned across the dark cab, Zach turned his face away so Chris settled for kissing his cheek.
The arrogant jerk was enjoying himself, laughing as he pushed the door open. “Bye, bye, bye,” he sing-songed as the door slammed.
Clearly, Chris was using this mildly embarrassing secret of a past boyband music obsession as prime ammunition for a new game of Mock Quinto Until He’s Completely Out Of His Mind. It would probably be something catchier, but Zach was too busy being annoyed to be concise.
The next morning brought a too early text message reading: I know my calculus…u+me=us.
Without a second thought, Zach deleted the message and decided avoiding the source would make the problem go away. Unfortunately, Chris had this infuriating tendency to make himself impossible to ignore and tracked Zach down when he was waiting for his coffee a couple mornings later.
“Hi, my name’s Chris…you look like a guy from Abercrombie & Fitch,” he greeted cheerily.
“You’re bothersome.”
Reaching across the table, Chris ruffled Zach’s hair before being swatted away. “You started this! Just quit playing games…with my heart.”
Zach glared, hoping he looked dangerous. He didn’t, at all, and Chris gave him that stupid wide grin complete with crinkly eyes. “I know they’re cheesy, but that’s the point! They make you happy! Why do you think it’s called bubblegum? Bubblegum makes people happy – “
“Yeah, preteen girls. I get it. I do.” Chris paused for what Zach would have described as four periods instead of the standard three for dramatic effect. “Cherish you. But really, you’ve got to be true to your heart and poor taste in music.”
“And atrocious taste in men,” Zach grumbled.
The younger man feigned an appropriate level of offense. “Do I need to make the ‘Liquid Dreams’ reference? I was saving it for a less clothed occasion.”
Thankfully, his order was called and Zach could escape for a few minutes. “You’re barely making sense, Christopher. Clearly, this isn’t working. It’s not seamless.”
“I’ll drive myself crazy thinking of these if I have to!”
And Chris was just the type of persistent pain in the ass to do it. It was time for Zach to refine his tactic. What was more irritating than amusing? Oh, wait. The reason it was so fun to poke Chris with a stick was because he bristled and whined and tried his damndest to look like a kicked puppy or squirrel faced with a runaway Civic or something. Zach could turn Chris’ game against him and let every little reference roll off his shoulders as if they were poorly phrased comments. When the attention stopped, Chris would.
Hopefully.
“Zach!” Chris yelled into the phone over Zach’s greeting.
“Chris!” He emulated the peppy tone.
“These are the days, baby. We have plans.”
“These are the days for what?” Zach asked, looking at Noah. The dog cocked his head as if to say: I don’t get him any more than you do. I only keep him around for the Beggin Strips goodness you’re not supposed to know about but totally do because you’re kind of the shit. Or maybe Zach was embellishing the end. Still, the rest was a valid guess.
“Poker tournament at Zoe’s. This I promise you, Zach, it’s going to be larger than life.” Even through the phone Zach could see how his whole face would light up. Kid liked his poker and silly pun-ish things. Woah, since when did he start referring to Chris as “kid”? That was more than a little creepy or kinky based on your daddy!kinks.
“Fine.” He completely ignored the double shot Chris had just thrown at him, quite self-content. “I’m so kicking your ass.”
Chris laughed, but Zach couldn’t be sure if he’d come up with an actually witty taunt or if it was due to Zach’s passive poker style. “If either of us clean up, it’s gonna be me.” His chortle died a pitiful death in a choked cough. “It’s all or nothing. Keep that in mind. No lame bets.”
“Duly noted,” the older man scoffed. “I’ll come. I’ll bet ridiculously high and lose half my savings. Will that make you happy?”
“Yes. I want it that way. Exactly, that way.”
Even if he nearly choked, Zach managed to keep a firm hold on his bitchery. Instead, he swung by an ATM, finished out his day, and went to Zoe’s with every intention of losing his on-hand cash within an hour. Instead, he contented himself with his impending foiling of Chris’ master plan. Neither happened. His luck lasted a bit longer than expected, only because everyone was laughing entirely too hard by that point in time.
Oh, they could have been laughing over grandiose anecdotes or the contact high you could get from so much OMG-we’re-together-again excitement. Oh, no. They were laughing at Zach. John swore it was with him, but Zoe said she was completely laughing with Chris. Queen McBitch of Bitchytown became her new official title, but she only laughed harder when Zach declared it so.
“Do you know any of the dances?” Anton asked, hopeful.
“I could maybe break out some moves with you. I learned ‘I Want You Back’ for a community talent show once.” All eyes turned to Chris. “I have a sister! Plus, girls were easy when they thought you appreciated the Timberlake and Chasez interaction.”
“Good thing you practiced! Works on Quinto, too,” John crowed.
“Shut up and deal,” Zach pouted, reaching for his drink just to have Zoe snatch it away. “What-“
She gave him her most radiant smile; lesser men had succumbed to only half the current wattage. “Just making sure it’s not dirty pop.”
“Ha. Hahaha. Haha.”
Zach threw down a couple cards and waited for Anton to slide a couple more his way. “I hate you all.”
“Aw. But we love you.” Chris did his best baby voice. “You know why, don’t you?”
Still not-sulking in his chair, Zach rolled a chip between his fingers. “Because you’re all sadists who get off on the misfortune of others?”
In perfect unison and completely deadpan, which was actually nearly impressive, John and Chris answered. “God must have spent a little more time on you.”
“Don’t listen to them, baby,” Zoe cooed. “It’s because you have the right stuff.”
Zach tried being irritated to make them stop, but it was gasoline poured over a forest fire. He tried ignoring it; they just traded jokes as if he wasn’t there. Once he changed the subject to something even more irrelevant, if that’s even possible, but a strategically placed “Hangin' Tough” set them off again.
He was a good sport through it all, didn’t even try to kill Chris with the ace ofbase spades once! When he went home, he gave Chris explicit instructions that he was sleeping his irritation away. Chris, of course, chose that moment to restart his selective hearing.
Having been home long enough to change into boxers and a worn purple t-shirt, Zach was hardly shocked to hear a knock at his door answered by Noah’s bark and his tail hitting the wall. When Zach pulled the door open, a package of Sour Patch Kids was very unceremoniously thrust in his face. Zach snatched them before the offer was rescinded.
“Unless this is a peace offering, I want no part of it.”
True to form, Chris pouted and let his eyes go wide. Really, it was that damn lip that did Zach in. Every. Single. Time. “Give me just one night?” The door nearly slammed in his face, but his hand caught the edge with enough force to throw it completely back against the wall. “Come on, baby. Una noche?”
“If you insist on being a child, I retain the right to ignore you,” Zach mumbled while he searched for an appropriately alcoholic drink. Dealing with Chris when he was smug definitely required some sort of mood altering substance.
“I get what this is: trying to show me the meaning of being lonely. Completely unwarranted, you know.”
For failing to mention Zach’s own childish behavior to the accelerated version of their usual teasing, Chris got bonus points. A couple, at any rate. While Zach rummaged, Chris started a search of his own, pulling open cabinets and searching behind cereal boxes.
“What in hell are you looking for over there?” Zach finally asked his irritating boyfriend.
Blue eyes shot over to him, a war being waged between toning it down and playing up his joke. Sighing in resignation was apparently Zach’s sign for him to go ahead. Acceptance with acknowledgement may be his only way out of this at this point. He’d tried every other damn thing.
Chris crossed the room and tugged at Zach’s shirt. “I like the color purple…and macaroni and cheese.”
Okay, that one really was sort of funny. Just a little. Zach’s lips quirked into a half smile of their own volition and Chris’ answering grin told Zach he’d finally made the right choice of combat techniques.
“I just want you to know, I’m running out of these. I’m giving up to secure your sanity and my chances of getting laid when the lights go out.” He wasn’t repentant by any stretch of the word, but it was close enough.
Rolling his eyes, Zach pushed Chris down into a kitchen chair before crawling over him. “As long as you love me,” he muttered and caught the younger man’s mouth in a surprisingly harsh and insistent kiss, a battle of wills, really.
Well, if you can’t beat them, join them.
[end]
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG13
Summary: Zach likes old school boybands. Chris mocks.
Word Count: ~2000
Warnings: You may experience fangirly flashbacks to the late 90’s. Boyband mockery…they’re all fair game (Except BBMak and SoulDecision…because no one else knows who they are). Some language. General Crackiness.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys, the “bands”, the song titles/lyrics, or anything other than my word choice and clothes really. No clue what they really get up to in their spare time (but I seriously doubt it's this). I deal in lies, kids.
AN: Backstreet’s Back! Okay, so as you may have seen from
b_dsaint’s AWESOME crack!fic, there was an EPIC boyband babykid528 and b_dsaint are enablers of the worst kind…This is for you, girlies.I debated posting this because...well, I think it may be kind of crap and fail at being even REMOTELY funny. Apparently, I'm more funny when I'm writing Chris than Zach. Oh well. I promised the girls this...so they get it.
---------------------------------
[additional note: Title swiped from LFO’s “Summer Girls.” And since I could LITERALLY have whole conversations in old boyband titles/lyrics, they’re everywhere. Good luck spotting them all! ;)]
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“My ears are bleeding! My auditory canals have collapsed! My eardrums! They’ve ruptured!” Chris wailed, even if he would claim it was a manly shout. “What happened to the obscure bands no one else has heard of? I liked you better with more depth than a thirteen-year-old with some poster tape and a copy of Teen Beat.”
“Stop being melodramatic,” Zach sighed, pausing his iPod before it could move on to another unsavory tune. “It’s catchy. Tell me you won’t have that song in your head for a week.”
Chris scrunched up his nose. If he wasn’t so damn cute, Zach may have kicked him out of the car while doing 80. “Yeah, it’ll be there. In my nightmares. When you said Backstreet’s back, I thought you were being ironic.”
Zach huffed and reconsidered how bad an idea it was to introduce Chris to catchy pop music. When Zach pressed his foot to the accelerator, Chris snatched the iPod from its cradle and scrolled.
“No. Zach, tell me this isn’t an entire Backstreet Boys playlist!”
“It isn’t.” To avoid further humiliation, he tried to navigate a wide right-turn and snatch the player simultaneously. Chris, the jack ass, anticipated this and slammed his back against the door. When he gasped, Zach momentarily prayed he’d fallen out.
“L.F.O.? NSync? O-Town? 98 Degrees?” The younger man’s eyes were shining so bright Zach almost forgot to be annoyed. “Say it isn’t so!”
There was honestly only one defense in this situation, Zach latched onto it like an alley cat and a two day old tuna sandwich. “You can’t ridicule me for NSync.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
Zach shot him a Devil’s smirk. “I wasn’t the one dying to jump Timberlake after SNL.”
“You thought about it, too! Have you seen his eyes? And those shoulders?”
“Please contain the ’Sexy Back’ reference,” Zach sighed. This was the epitome of a losing situation, but Zach was too stubborn to admit it.
“I can appreciate a fine ass without liking his unfortunate musical past.” When Zach huffed, Chris continued. “I could have had him, too, but noooo you wanted to be all possessive. You would have been involved, you know.”
Involuntarily, Zach saw a tangle of sweaty limbs in a crowded dressing room. His mind went on to supply sets of blue eyes, toned abs, and, okay he was going to admit this, sexy backs. The shiver which surged through him pulled a loud chuckle from Chris. “Shut up.”
“It’s tearin’ up your heart, isn’t it? Having missed out on one hell of a three-some. With no strings attached, I might add.” A long suffering sigh filled the space until Zach’s hat abruptly met Chris’ face.
The only sound filling the car for the next few minutes was Chris' muffled giggles. Finally, Zach broke in with a Hail Mary. "You know, Backstreet Boys' new video involves vampires. You should appreciate that."
Chris had the audacity to scoff. "It's not a vampire thing; it's romance, you ass. We've been through this. Let it go, man."
"Any chance of you letting this go?"
"Not even remotely."
"Turn about's fair play." Here, he made the mistake of glancing in Chris' direction and caught the mischievous smirk in the glare of oncoming headlights.
"My sentiments exactly."
When Zach finally slammed his car into park by the curb in front of Chris’ place, he was bristling. As Chris leaned across the dark cab, Zach turned his face away so Chris settled for kissing his cheek.
The arrogant jerk was enjoying himself, laughing as he pushed the door open. “Bye, bye, bye,” he sing-songed as the door slammed.
Clearly, Chris was using this mildly embarrassing secret of a past boyband music obsession as prime ammunition for a new game of Mock Quinto Until He’s Completely Out Of His Mind. It would probably be something catchier, but Zach was too busy being annoyed to be concise.
The next morning brought a too early text message reading: I know my calculus…u+me=us.
Without a second thought, Zach deleted the message and decided avoiding the source would make the problem go away. Unfortunately, Chris had this infuriating tendency to make himself impossible to ignore and tracked Zach down when he was waiting for his coffee a couple mornings later.
“Hi, my name’s Chris…you look like a guy from Abercrombie & Fitch,” he greeted cheerily.
“You’re bothersome.”
Reaching across the table, Chris ruffled Zach’s hair before being swatted away. “You started this! Just quit playing games…with my heart.”
Zach glared, hoping he looked dangerous. He didn’t, at all, and Chris gave him that stupid wide grin complete with crinkly eyes. “I know they’re cheesy, but that’s the point! They make you happy! Why do you think it’s called bubblegum? Bubblegum makes people happy – “
“Yeah, preteen girls. I get it. I do.” Chris paused for what Zach would have described as four periods instead of the standard three for dramatic effect. “Cherish you. But really, you’ve got to be true to your heart and poor taste in music.”
“And atrocious taste in men,” Zach grumbled.
The younger man feigned an appropriate level of offense. “Do I need to make the ‘Liquid Dreams’ reference? I was saving it for a less clothed occasion.”
Thankfully, his order was called and Zach could escape for a few minutes. “You’re barely making sense, Christopher. Clearly, this isn’t working. It’s not seamless.”
“I’ll drive myself crazy thinking of these if I have to!”
And Chris was just the type of persistent pain in the ass to do it. It was time for Zach to refine his tactic. What was more irritating than amusing? Oh, wait. The reason it was so fun to poke Chris with a stick was because he bristled and whined and tried his damndest to look like a kicked puppy or squirrel faced with a runaway Civic or something. Zach could turn Chris’ game against him and let every little reference roll off his shoulders as if they were poorly phrased comments. When the attention stopped, Chris would.
Hopefully.
“Zach!” Chris yelled into the phone over Zach’s greeting.
“Chris!” He emulated the peppy tone.
“These are the days, baby. We have plans.”
“These are the days for what?” Zach asked, looking at Noah. The dog cocked his head as if to say: I don’t get him any more than you do. I only keep him around for the Beggin Strips goodness you’re not supposed to know about but totally do because you’re kind of the shit. Or maybe Zach was embellishing the end. Still, the rest was a valid guess.
“Poker tournament at Zoe’s. This I promise you, Zach, it’s going to be larger than life.” Even through the phone Zach could see how his whole face would light up. Kid liked his poker and silly pun-ish things. Woah, since when did he start referring to Chris as “kid”? That was more than a little creepy or kinky based on your daddy!kinks.
“Fine.” He completely ignored the double shot Chris had just thrown at him, quite self-content. “I’m so kicking your ass.”
Chris laughed, but Zach couldn’t be sure if he’d come up with an actually witty taunt or if it was due to Zach’s passive poker style. “If either of us clean up, it’s gonna be me.” His chortle died a pitiful death in a choked cough. “It’s all or nothing. Keep that in mind. No lame bets.”
“Duly noted,” the older man scoffed. “I’ll come. I’ll bet ridiculously high and lose half my savings. Will that make you happy?”
“Yes. I want it that way. Exactly, that way.”
Even if he nearly choked, Zach managed to keep a firm hold on his bitchery. Instead, he swung by an ATM, finished out his day, and went to Zoe’s with every intention of losing his on-hand cash within an hour. Instead, he contented himself with his impending foiling of Chris’ master plan. Neither happened. His luck lasted a bit longer than expected, only because everyone was laughing entirely too hard by that point in time.
Oh, they could have been laughing over grandiose anecdotes or the contact high you could get from so much OMG-we’re-together-again excitement. Oh, no. They were laughing at Zach. John swore it was with him, but Zoe said she was completely laughing with Chris. Queen McBitch of Bitchytown became her new official title, but she only laughed harder when Zach declared it so.
“Do you know any of the dances?” Anton asked, hopeful.
“I could maybe break out some moves with you. I learned ‘I Want You Back’ for a community talent show once.” All eyes turned to Chris. “I have a sister! Plus, girls were easy when they thought you appreciated the Timberlake and Chasez interaction.”
“Good thing you practiced! Works on Quinto, too,” John crowed.
“Shut up and deal,” Zach pouted, reaching for his drink just to have Zoe snatch it away. “What-“
She gave him her most radiant smile; lesser men had succumbed to only half the current wattage. “Just making sure it’s not dirty pop.”
“Ha. Hahaha. Haha.”
Zach threw down a couple cards and waited for Anton to slide a couple more his way. “I hate you all.”
“Aw. But we love you.” Chris did his best baby voice. “You know why, don’t you?”
Still not-sulking in his chair, Zach rolled a chip between his fingers. “Because you’re all sadists who get off on the misfortune of others?”
In perfect unison and completely deadpan, which was actually nearly impressive, John and Chris answered. “God must have spent a little more time on you.”
“Don’t listen to them, baby,” Zoe cooed. “It’s because you have the right stuff.”
Zach tried being irritated to make them stop, but it was gasoline poured over a forest fire. He tried ignoring it; they just traded jokes as if he wasn’t there. Once he changed the subject to something even more irrelevant, if that’s even possible, but a strategically placed “Hangin' Tough” set them off again.
He was a good sport through it all, didn’t even try to kill Chris with the ace of
Having been home long enough to change into boxers and a worn purple t-shirt, Zach was hardly shocked to hear a knock at his door answered by Noah’s bark and his tail hitting the wall. When Zach pulled the door open, a package of Sour Patch Kids was very unceremoniously thrust in his face. Zach snatched them before the offer was rescinded.
“Unless this is a peace offering, I want no part of it.”
True to form, Chris pouted and let his eyes go wide. Really, it was that damn lip that did Zach in. Every. Single. Time. “Give me just one night?” The door nearly slammed in his face, but his hand caught the edge with enough force to throw it completely back against the wall. “Come on, baby. Una noche?”
“If you insist on being a child, I retain the right to ignore you,” Zach mumbled while he searched for an appropriately alcoholic drink. Dealing with Chris when he was smug definitely required some sort of mood altering substance.
“I get what this is: trying to show me the meaning of being lonely. Completely unwarranted, you know.”
For failing to mention Zach’s own childish behavior to the accelerated version of their usual teasing, Chris got bonus points. A couple, at any rate. While Zach rummaged, Chris started a search of his own, pulling open cabinets and searching behind cereal boxes.
“What in hell are you looking for over there?” Zach finally asked his irritating boyfriend.
Blue eyes shot over to him, a war being waged between toning it down and playing up his joke. Sighing in resignation was apparently Zach’s sign for him to go ahead. Acceptance with acknowledgement may be his only way out of this at this point. He’d tried every other damn thing.
Chris crossed the room and tugged at Zach’s shirt. “I like the color purple…and macaroni and cheese.”
Okay, that one really was sort of funny. Just a little. Zach’s lips quirked into a half smile of their own volition and Chris’ answering grin told Zach he’d finally made the right choice of combat techniques.
“I just want you to know, I’m running out of these. I’m giving up to secure your sanity and my chances of getting laid when the lights go out.” He wasn’t repentant by any stretch of the word, but it was close enough.
Rolling his eyes, Zach pushed Chris down into a kitchen chair before crawling over him. “As long as you love me,” he muttered and caught the younger man’s mouth in a surprisingly harsh and insistent kiss, a battle of wills, really.
Well, if you can’t beat them, join them.
[end]