Changnesia
Part of my "Poor Judgment" Series
Series components can be searched under my username on AO3
Summary: Chang adjusts to life with Duncan
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A/N: This piece takes place around Chapter 19 of "Everything is Better, Part Three." Timeline late Fall, 2011. No need to be familiar with the larger work. Basically just know Duncan and Chang are now roommates.
Special thanks to bethanyactually and loosey-goosey for smooth jazz transcription ideas.
Warning: Drug use, language
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"Hm-hm-hmmm-hmm-hm-hm.."
"What in bloody hell are you humming?" Duncan looked up from his newspaper with a scowl.
A robe-clad Chang turned from his act of burrowing in the fridge, a plate of salami in his hands. He blinked once and then opened his eyes wide before stating in a stunningly serious tone, "It's smooth jazz. I've had a stressful day, and it Chang-laxes me."
Duncan tossed his paper on the coffee table and picked up his cup of tea. He leaned back, crossing one foot over his knee while taking a sip. He watched as Chang ambled over to the other side of the living room couch and plopped down, eyeing his plate of cold cured meats. He cringed at the sound of the white terry cloth swooshing against the couch as Chang adjusted his position.
Duncan pulled his glasses down a tad on his nose, raising his eyebrows in a mixture of skepticism and alarm. "You're just going to eat that whole damn plate then?"
Chang nodded eagerly and dove in.
Duncan winced and meticulously placed his cup back on its saucer. He cleared his throat. "You'll need to clean up your mess. I have a guest coming over."
Chang turned to face him, his mouth chomping on stray bits. He paused and licked his fingers, making a smacking sound.
"Bloody hell."
Duncan watched in almost horror as Chang leaned toward him, a look of unabashed neediness on his face.
"Ooooohhh….is it Britta? "
Duncan tensed and reached over to pick up his newspaper. He muttered, "Why would you think it was Miss Perry? I have other friends."
Chang shrugged. "She was over here last week." He looked down at his meat plate but then snapped his head back up. "Is it Jeff? I miss him. He won't let me sit next to him at the study table." He shifted, lifting his left leg and placing his knee on the couch.
Duncan did his best to avert his eyes from a flash of Chang-alls.
Chang added, "Come to think of it, he won't let me in the study room. I have no idea why." He then reached over to Duncan and patted his foot with a spitty hand. "Can I sit next to him when he comes over?"
Instinctively, Duncan recoiled. "You are being very rude! We have very few rules in this living situation, and need I remind you, one of them is no touching!"
Chang leaned back and shrugged, grabbing another piece of salami and shoving it in his mouth.
Duncan squinted at him in annoyance and then cleared his throat. "I'll have you know, it is Miss Perry, which is why I want you to clean up your meat plate. I don't want to offend her." He threw his paper down again and stood. He reached over to the side table, opened the drawer and pulled out a small can of room freshener. He began liberally spraying as he mumbled, "Bloody salami hell smell."
A soft and trembling voice asked, "Can I hang out with you guys?"
Duncan stilled. He took a deep breath of lemony scent before he turned to stare at Chang. "Of course not! You are relegated to…er…." He began to look around frantically.
Chang said encouragingly, "Your bedroom? You told me to go in there last time after she punched me in the arm. It's still a little sore." He began rubbing his elbow before becoming distracted by a bit of salami falling on his lap. He ducked his head and adeptly slurped it up.
Duncan's eyes widened as he watched the display. He said quickly, "Yes! You are to stay in my room. And this time, no using my laptop to watch porn."
"I was bored."
"Do it the old fashioned way then, get a magazine…er, on second thought I don't want you and porn in my room period. Read a book."
Chang hung his head dejectedly.
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Britta flipped through the television channels as she puffed on a joint.
She placed her sock-clad yet bootless feet on the coffee table and crossed one over the other. "I can't believe you don't have cable. The reception sucks on some of these."
Duncan reached across her to grab the bowl of chips, pulling it to his lap. He began to chomp but paused to say, "You told me you didn't have cable until you moved in with those boys."
Britta gave a sly grin. "Yeah, looks like my new roommate situation is helping me to move up in the world. Yours, on the other hand…." She motioned her head toward his closed bedroom door.
He turned toward her and nodded vigorously. "It's bloody awful is what it is! I'm in a circle close to hell."
A slight snort escaped her lips. "He can't be that bad."
Duncan shook his head and reached across her again, this time grabbing the joint out of her hand and lingering over her a few moments to inhale.
She tensed her body, aware her heart rate had accelerated. A strange tingling sensation began spreading throughout her torso. She relaxed slightly as he handed the joint back to her and sat back up.
She watched in fascination as he wiped his perspiring brow. She noticed he tended to glisten when he was excited, even if it was about Chang.
It was kinda cute.
Duncan rambled on, "Oh, he is. He's rude, he makes horrible smacking and slurping noises, and he won't stop with the Chang puns! And he flashes me about once a day! I'm going mad!"
She rolled her shoulders back and forth, freeing up some space in her chest.
Duncan eyed said chest.
She noticed his gaze and then quickly said, "But you're doing such a nice thing and allowing him to live here for a little while. He was homeless. It's the right thing to do."
He turned away and grabbed another chip. He muttered softly, "Yada Yada Yada."
She punched his arm but then let her hand drop to her side. She moved her feet off the table and tucked them underneath her body as she turned to face him, a soft smile forming on her face. "Hey, you're a nice person. You let me hang out here that humiliating night after Neil's party. Thank you again for that."
He eyed her out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. "Eh, that was nothing."
She widened her eyes. "You slept on the couch and made me tea."
They were silent for a few moments before he turned slightly toward her and patted her knee. "Well, er, that was just the proper thing to do. You were sad."
She nodded thoughtfully and placed the joint in the ashtray on the table. She tentatively reached over to lightly touch the top of his vest. "I never thought someone would care I was sad."
His mouth quivered as she scooted closer.
He leaned in.
Britta instinctively began a nervous and possibly cannabis-induced laugh as she grabbed him by the bow tie and pulled him closer.
They ended up slowly falling off the couch in a heap of giggles.
"Oh, fuck!"
And that's when she went in for a smooch.
Why not? He looks so professor-y tonight.
He tasted of chips and mints.
She smiled against his lips as he pulled back slightly in a gasp for air.
"Did you have a mint?"
"Well, er…"
She continued to grin as she stared up at him. "Were you planning to kiss me?"
"Not at all, I just like to have fresh breath. It's important that I…"
She giggled loudly at his obvious befuddlement.
She went in for another.
They were interrupted by a shout from the bedroom.
"Can you guys keep it down out there? I'm Chang-ing in here."
Duncan lurched back, his eyebrows rising. "What the bloody fuck is Chang-ing? Dear lord, I need to stop him!"
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Britta took in a breath, pausing as she looked up at the dimples.
The little pale British dimples. It was so exotic.
"You have a nice face…behind your heavy glasses." She watched as his expression shifted to one of skepticism. She added, "I mean I still like your glasses but you're kinda cuter underneath them."
Duncan swiftly but carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. He leaned in once more and pressed his forehead to hers.
She lifted up a foot and rubbed it over his ass, noting the awkward way her blue kitty sock almost snagged against his brown corduroy pants. She let out a nervous laugh and grabbed the back of his head, tilting it just so.
The kiss was strangely normal this time. She reflected that it wasn't a bad normal, more of a reassuring normal. She hadn't remembered much of the time when they were both wasted. Mostly she recalled a haze of spit and mutual groping, followed by a literal let down.
In retrospect, she was glad it hadn't happened that way. They weren't thinking clearly. It was hurried, rushed, and desperate.
This time, they may be a little bit high, but not that high. And they weren't wasted. They were just high enough to allow themselves to go here.
She had kinda wanted to go here for a little while, but kinda not.
What if he stopped being nice once he got what he wanted? It was a risk, one that that had seldom worked out for her in the past.
She didn't know what would happen, but she did know that this kiss was better than their first kiss. And it was hella better than her smooch with Star-burns.
It dawned on her that it was actually really nice. And she realized they were still kissing.
He pulled back and looked at her with his brown puppy dog eyes.
He does kinda resemble a puppy. Maybe that's why he feels safe.
His voice trembled, "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."
She suddenly tensed and blurted, "Shut up." She rolled her eyes and turned her head to the side on the pillow. She kept her gaze on the far wall and wished for the lump in her throat to pass.
He caressed her hair and pleaded, "You're so pretty. And look, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but fuck it. I don't want you to hate me. You're like my only real friend. My only real friend in this town, that's for sure. And we're much closer in age than…"
She felt something drop in her stomach and turned back to face him. She then reached up and threw her hand over his mouth. She smiled softly. "I like your dimples. They're dorkably hot. And the paleness is working for me, even in the half dark."
She removed her hand and watched as an incredulous grin spread across his face.
He said in a low voice, "This isn't some sort of experiment is it? One I don't recall designing? Because if so…"
She pulled him down into another kiss.
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Awhile later, after some preliminaries followed by fumbling with clothes and wrappers and perhaps some very mild freaking out about performance-issues, they did it.
They bloody Did It.
Before he gave it much thought, he tried to give her a high five.
Surprisingly, she returned his slap.
Good god, she is perfect.
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She is so not into spooning. That's like a thing other people do.
Boring, normal, generic, establishment-minded people.
The healthy thing to do is fuck and leave.
Leave before things get messy.
Leave before they tell you to hop off the study room table.
Leave before they send you an invitation to their wedding.
But she was pretty confident he wasn't going to tell her to leave when he kept his arms around her. She may have looked back to steal a peak at his pale little adorable dimples in the moonlight. She would be disgusted with her sappiness if she heard it from anyone else, but she didn't know what to make of it right now.
She decided to let herself drift off into a much-needed sleep.
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"Oh, oh, oh!"
"I love your boobs! Your boobs are glorious!"
"More! Put on your glasses!"
Chang winced as he heard what he strongly suspected was the pounding of the headboard against the bedroom wall.
A plate rattled on the coffee table and fell onto the carpet. He jumped down from the couch and crouched, eyeing the glint of a slice of cured meat in the moonlight.
So sexy.
He moved onto his hands and knees. He scuttled forward and then carefully lowered his body to the ground. He shoved his face onto the meat, inhaling the salty aroma.
I bet you are delicious.
He startled from his thoughts as he heard more moans from the bedroom followed by a creaking sound.
"Professor Duncan….Oh my god!"
"Dear Miss Perry, I am so bloody happy you…are….no…long-ger…my…(gasp)…student!"
"I…love…your….bow…tie!"
More headboard pounding.
The coffee table rattled again.
"Booyah!"
He had flashes of a horizontal naked dancing Duncan. His head began to buzz.
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The morning light filtered through the living room blinds. He groaned and turned on his side. He felt something clinging to his cheek but couldn't summon the energy to investigate.
There was a creaking of a door.
He heard the padding of familiar footsteps and opened one eye.
A man with glasses, dressed in boxer shorts and a light blue t-shirt, walked over to him and gave a look of disgust.
"Why are you on the floor? And get that salami off your face!"
What is salami?
He wiped at his face, shuddering at the sensation of something cold and clammy against his fingers. He tossed the offending object on the ground.
"And would you please close your robe? We have very few rules in this household! Need I remind you, THAT one is number two!"
He muttered, "Robe?"
The man gasped and reached down to throw something at his lower torso.
It's square and smooth….wait, what is that…a pillow? Yes, that sounds familiar.
He gulped down what little saliva appeared to be in his mouth, noting that most of the moisture had dripped out onto his chin. He was able to muster the energy to say, "Who are you? Who am I? Where am I?"
The man shook his head and padded into an adjacent room.
There was the clanking sound of metal followed by a sizzling sound.
Eggs? Yes, that's a thing.
He called out to the man, "I don't remember my name!"
"Fuck off!"