Hairspray fanfiction
Mar. 8th, 2008 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosa_cottonTitle: Chocolate Ice Cream
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: Hairspray, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of Marc Shaiman and New Line Cinema.
Summary: It is one of his least favorite things. Yet desperate times call for desperate measures.
~~~
“Chocolate?” the girl doesn’t wait for the waiter to be out of earshot. “You hate chocolate!”
He leans back in his seat, letting his eyes slip shut. “I don’t hate—”
“You don’t care for it. Last time you got chocolate—”
“I know,” he sighs wearily. He’d almost gotten sick when he tried chocolate ice cream last time. Something about the flavor and color…just doesn’t appeal to him.
The boy can sense her baby blue eyes narrowing, light pink lips uncertain whether to frown or pout. Slowly, reluctantly, he meets her gaze.
“Then why did you order the Double Chocolate Brownie Sundae, babe?” annoyance creeps into Amber’s tone as she peers at him. “You always share a strawberry milkshake with me.” She pouts.
It is true. They’ve always shared a strawberry milkshake, since their first date over a year ago. They cuddle, cheeks almost brushing as they drink the blended strawberry-flavored refreshment. Giggles escape Amber when Link tickles her, and she swats his hands away while telling him not to make a scene. On the nights he is daring, and she does not turn away, he’ll steal a kiss (or two or three) from her. And a faint blush rises in her cheeks while he smirks smugly and winks.
However, tonight finds them on opposite sides of the booth. There has been no wandering hands or half-hearted slaps, no giggles, no smirks. And now no strawberry milkshake to be shared.
“Just feel in the mood for something different, darlin’. Something new,” he says lightly.
Amber sits up straighter. “Liiiink! Why? Are, are you…?” she trails off, eyes looking about searchingly.
“No!” It’s his turn to sit up. Last time he’d mentioned having something else for dessert was because of a distractingly pretty reddish-blond haired girl walking by the table. He had been in a bit of hot water for a while and had had to work hard to make it up to Amber. “No…” Link tugs nervously on his tie. “Honestly… Next time we’ll share a ’shake.” He adds, “I promise.”
“Good.” She sits back, her hand closing around Link’s class ring on her chain, satisfied.
The gentle clank of dishware and murmur of conversation fills the air between them.
“Chocolate ice cream and sprinkles?” Amber eventually says with an arched eyebrow.
“Pink sprinkles,” Link corrects. Lots of sprinkles; he needs them.
At his girlfriend’s incredulous look he simply shrugs and winks. Relief washes over him as she stifles a giggle, and the corners of her mouth turn before she drops her gaze to the table. Relaxing for the first time this evening, he looks out the window.
Chocolate ice cream… Chocolate and— Link mentally forces the developing image from his mind. He can only hope (desperately) that forcing himself to eat one of his least favorite foods will get rid of the strange dreams he’s been having recently filled with chocolate brown and bright pink and softness. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He can’t remember the last time he has dreamed of vanilla and light yellow and slimness. That’s what he’s supposed to dream about. Right?
A tall glass almost overflowing with two scoops of chocolate ice cream, large chucks of brownie, topped with whipped cream, a cherry and lots of pink sprinkles is set in front of his bulging eyes. Link’s stomach starts to twist into hard a knot, and his mouth begins to water.
Right?
THE END
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: Hairspray, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of Marc Shaiman and New Line Cinema.
Summary: It is one of his least favorite things. Yet desperate times call for desperate measures.
~~~
“Chocolate?” the girl doesn’t wait for the waiter to be out of earshot. “You hate chocolate!”
He leans back in his seat, letting his eyes slip shut. “I don’t hate—”
“You don’t care for it. Last time you got chocolate—”
“I know,” he sighs wearily. He’d almost gotten sick when he tried chocolate ice cream last time. Something about the flavor and color…just doesn’t appeal to him.
The boy can sense her baby blue eyes narrowing, light pink lips uncertain whether to frown or pout. Slowly, reluctantly, he meets her gaze.
“Then why did you order the Double Chocolate Brownie Sundae, babe?” annoyance creeps into Amber’s tone as she peers at him. “You always share a strawberry milkshake with me.” She pouts.
It is true. They’ve always shared a strawberry milkshake, since their first date over a year ago. They cuddle, cheeks almost brushing as they drink the blended strawberry-flavored refreshment. Giggles escape Amber when Link tickles her, and she swats his hands away while telling him not to make a scene. On the nights he is daring, and she does not turn away, he’ll steal a kiss (or two or three) from her. And a faint blush rises in her cheeks while he smirks smugly and winks.
However, tonight finds them on opposite sides of the booth. There has been no wandering hands or half-hearted slaps, no giggles, no smirks. And now no strawberry milkshake to be shared.
“Just feel in the mood for something different, darlin’. Something new,” he says lightly.
Amber sits up straighter. “Liiiink! Why? Are, are you…?” she trails off, eyes looking about searchingly.
“No!” It’s his turn to sit up. Last time he’d mentioned having something else for dessert was because of a distractingly pretty reddish-blond haired girl walking by the table. He had been in a bit of hot water for a while and had had to work hard to make it up to Amber. “No…” Link tugs nervously on his tie. “Honestly… Next time we’ll share a ’shake.” He adds, “I promise.”
“Good.” She sits back, her hand closing around Link’s class ring on her chain, satisfied.
The gentle clank of dishware and murmur of conversation fills the air between them.
“Chocolate ice cream and sprinkles?” Amber eventually says with an arched eyebrow.
“Pink sprinkles,” Link corrects. Lots of sprinkles; he needs them.
At his girlfriend’s incredulous look he simply shrugs and winks. Relief washes over him as she stifles a giggle, and the corners of her mouth turn before she drops her gaze to the table. Relaxing for the first time this evening, he looks out the window.
Chocolate ice cream… Chocolate and— Link mentally forces the developing image from his mind. He can only hope (desperately) that forcing himself to eat one of his least favorite foods will get rid of the strange dreams he’s been having recently filled with chocolate brown and bright pink and softness. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He can’t remember the last time he has dreamed of vanilla and light yellow and slimness. That’s what he’s supposed to dream about. Right?
A tall glass almost overflowing with two scoops of chocolate ice cream, large chucks of brownie, topped with whipped cream, a cherry and lots of pink sprinkles is set in front of his bulging eyes. Link’s stomach starts to twist into hard a knot, and his mouth begins to water.
Right?
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-16 09:49 am (UTC)ahhhh this little story has just made me love link more :D
thanks! looking forward to reading more of your writing!
x
no subject
Date: 2008-04-09 03:57 pm (UTC)