Oh yes. I went there. I totally, totally went there.
Gorgonzola/Chowder.
Boyxboy. Don't like? Don't read.

WARNING: cussing, humanized Chowder characters, witty/cheesy catchphrases, horrible humor, random things that don't make sense, on & off Chowder weirdness, OOCness, innocent boy love kissing, Panini stalking, slight homophobic statements, fluffy shiz all around. You have been warned.

"Chowder!"

Said boy spun around so fast that he stumbled. Thankfully he caught himself by slamming his hands against the wall before he fell and hurt himself. His purple hat tipped slightly against his ruffled black hair, and the small 14-year-old boy smiled sheepishly when Mung quirked his eyebrow at him.

"How did you manage to trip just by tuning, Chowder?"

"I don't know," he replied happily. "Whad'ya need, Mung?"

He pushed his round glasses farther up his abnormally large nose, peering down at Chowder over it. He always gave Chowder that look when he was annoyed or thinking. Probably annoyed, judging by his expression.

"Right. Well, I need you to go into town and get me some Smeggs and Flossberries for the order. And hurry," he handed Chowder some money, which the hyper boy grabbed, stuffing it in his pocket and skipping out.

"Rada rada rada…"

"I know. He'll probably find a way to screw it up."

Chowder ignored them. He totally won't screw it up. He was convinced that he would do this one thing right and get praise from Mung…for once. With a newfound determination, he marched out of the building, head held high, money in hand. He made it to the square, where all the shops were, within minutes. He skipped about giddily, singing to himself and jumping over people and random objects lying on the ground as he scanned for the intended stands.

"Oh! There are the Flossberries!" he skipped over to where Gazpacho stood behind his stand, where many fruits and berries and such rested, up for sale. Chowder stopped in front of the stand, still beaming happily. "Hey Gazpacho!"

"Hey Chowder," the tall, burly man replied fondly. "Here for Mung again?"

"Yup. Got any Flossberries?" he asked, eyeing said berries.

"Yer lookin' at 'em."

"I need," he looked at the list Mung had slipped into his hand along with the money, "Fifteen Flossberries, please."

"Got it, buddy," Gazpacho said happily, scooping up fifteen berries and pouring them into a bag before he handed it to a happy-looking Chowder, who accepted it. "Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Hmm, well, for you Chowder, that's $5.34," he said.

"Whoo! Half off!" he cried, putting both arms in the air joyfully. "Huzzah!"

"Just pay up, Chowder."

"HUZZAH!"

"Chowder."

"Oh, right," he said, handing him the money. "Thanks, Gazpacho."

"No problem buddy," he grinned at the small boy who beamed once again then skipped off giddily, swinging the bag by his side. Now he needed the Smeggs. He scanned the stands only to freeze when a familiar, girly voice piped up from behind him.

"Hi, Chowder."

"NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!" he screamed, not even looking back before he made a mad dash to safety. But Panini was fast, her skinny arm shooting out to grab the back of his bandanna, pulling him forward. He groaned, head rolling back to stare up at her upside-down, her bright green eyes sparkling with love, her pink lips in a large wide smile, pink hair curling around her shoulders. Yeah she was pretty, but really annoying. Besides, girls were gross.

"Let me go, I have errands to run," he sniffed delicately.

"Can I come?" she gasped as if she just discovered something amazing. Like a chocolate cake. Or a pile of chocolate-covered Flossberries. Or even thrice cream. Ohyeah. Thrice cream.

"Chowder, you're drooling," Panini said, letting him go. He straightened, wiping the drool from his mouth.

"Yeah, well, you're ugly," he retorted, sniffing again, all dignified-like. "I need to go do important things. A-lone."

Panini was unfazed. "Choooooowder, I can help! Really! I have the day off, since it's Ms. Endive's birthday. Let's go on a date!"

Panini blinked at the cloud of dust that used to be Chowder. Meanwhile, Chowder was fleeing for his life, panting and huffing in little high-pitched squeals. Eventually he made it to safety; a conveniently-placed stand of some sort, which he didn't hesitate to jump over before he crouched, hiding behind the counter of the stand. He pulled his hat down to hide his face. Stupid Panini. He could do errands by himself! He already had the flossberries, he just needed—

"Oh crocodile droppings," he said in a tiny fake-British accent. "I dropped the berries."

He stood abruptly, straightening his hat and climbing over the stand, which he still didn't know what it was for, and stumbled slightly. He cleared his throat then bolted, re-tracing his steps. Then he forgot where he ran. He was kind of freaking out at the word "date" to pay attention to where it was he was running.

"Oh floooooossberriiiiiies," he called, cupping the side of his mouth, "where are yoooou? C'mere c'mere C'MEEERE," he practically screamed, then stopped when his eyes, which were strained to the ground, landed on green shoes. He straightened, having been bent over in his intent search, and faced none other than Gorgonzola. His eyebrow was quirked, though all in all he didn't look surprised at Chowder's strange antics. Gorgonzola wasn't as popular as he should be; he was slim and built, with ruffled, attractive brown hair and bright green eyes, peach skin, a sharp and colorful fashion sense – minus the giant green candle on his head, he was an attractive guy. Maybe it was his surly attitude and constant screaming paranoid things about Chowder….that was probably it.

Opposed to Chowder, who had messy brown hair he kept mussed up under his purple hat, a thick bandanna that clashed with his dark purple jacket and pants, and he was a bit chubby. It was him being chubby that threw off most girls in the town, except ever-annoyingly-loyal Panini who chased after him like a rabid fangirl. This, of course, made Gorgonzola angry since he liked Panini. At least that's what Chowder thought.

"Sup dude, wiki wiki fresh," Chowder said, gangster. Gorgonzola rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Chowder. What the hell are you doing?"

"Lookin' for my bag 'o' flossberries," Chowder said. "I dropped them."

"Just like you, Chowder," the green-clad boy grumbled. "Not in a good way. Where did you drop them?"

"YOU'RE GONNA HELP ME!?" he screamed, hugging the other boy. Well, more like clinging onto him like a koala onto its mother. "YOU'RE THE BEST DUDE!"

"I never said that! Get off me!" Gorgonzola cried, shaking himself desperately. "Friggin' weirdo!"

"GYAH!" he fell off. "Aw."

"I hate you."

"I love you," Chowder said, eyes all sparkly.

Gorgonzola grimaced. "Yeah, sure, whatever. You always say that." The effect wore off by now. Chowder smiled obliviously, standing up and dusting himself off happily.

"Well then, I guess I'll find it on my own. I still hafta buy smeggs. SMEEEEGGSSS."

"Do you have to scream it?"

"Of course! It ruins the effect if I don't."

"…." Gorgonzola stared at him with a scrunched-up face. "I'll help."

"HUZZAH!"

"Only because wherever Chowder is, Panini is."

"NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!"

"….what?"

"Sorry, reflex."

Gorgonzola rolled his eyes again. "Come on. Where did you drop them?"

"I 'unno. I was too busy running to really pay attention. Uh, the horror, the chase," he shivered at the memory. "ANYWAY LET'S GO!"

Gorgonzola rolled his eyes again. He seemed to do that a lot around Chowder. Said boy didn't mind. He happily grabbed Gorgonzola's hand, yanking him forward as he skipped off to find the bag he bought, not even thinking to just buy another bag. Gorgonzola's cheeks went red, then blue, then red again.

"Let go of me, weirdoooo!" he snarked as Chowder dragged him onward, ignoring his angry pleas. Eventually he gave up and followed Chowder as he stared at the ground intently, lips pursed in concentration. Gorgonzola couldn't help but think it was a little cute. Just a little.

Maybe more than a little.

Like…

a lot.

"AHA! No, wait, that's just a shoe."

Gorgonzola blinked. "Why is a shoe just lying in the middle of the road?"

"Dunno. OH LOOK! THERE IT IS!"

"Chowder, that's a person."

"Oh."

"How the hell could you mistake a person for a bag?"

"HOW COULD YOU NOT?"

Gorgonzola shook his head. "Weirdo."

"Why thank yah," Chowder said in a fake Southern accent, batting his eyelashes. "Ugh, where is it?"

"Like I know!" Gorgonzola looked exasperated. He kept glancing at their hands intertwined, and felt his neck go hot. He looked about in paranoia, hoping no one saw. Chowder seemed oblivious, not seeming to mind either way.

"Chowderrrr!" a voice suddenly called gruffly from behind them. "Chowder, you dropped this."

"MY BAG!" Chowder squeaked, clinging onto it. "Thanks, mysterious stranger."

"Chowder, you just saw me ten minutes ago. I'm Gazpacho."

"Oh. Well thanks dude."

"Yup. Peace, can't leave my stand all alone too long," he gave Chowder and a baffled Gorgonzola the peace sign before he hurried off. Gorgonzola yanked his hand out of Chowder's.

"Well, you have the bag. I'm going."

"NOOOO! HELP ME FIND SMEGGS! SMEEEEEGGS!" Chowder wailed.

"No," Gorgonzola said firmly, smacking Chowder's hand away before he turned to storm off. By doing this, some wax flung off his burning candle atop his head and landed right on Chowder's face. Usually someone would yelp then maybe cry a bit, or whine, but not Chowder. Chowder blinked, silent, then his eyes went extremely wide.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! OW! GYAAAHHHAHAHAAA!" he blubbered, pawing at the sticky wax on his cheek. Gorgonzola turned back, angry, then startled, then annoyed, then guilty.

"Calm down, man," he said, looking about all paranoid again. Chowder kept wailing. "UGH, come on!" he snapped, grabbing his hand and dragging the sobbing boy to his home. Once inside he slammed the door shut, grabbing the bag the younger apprentice chef was clinging onto and putting it on the counter before he lead him off into the bathroom. He forced Chowder to sit on the shut toilet and grabbed out a small white box, yanking it open angrily.

"Stupid, whiny idiot," he grumbled to himself, washing a white cloth and rubbing at Chowder's chubby cheek. He then put ointment on the cloth and rubbed it on the burn, touch oddly tender. Chowder was silent, watching him, eyes oddly dry considering that he was crying a moment ago.

"Gorgonzola," he said. Said boy looked up in annoyance, mouth opened to ask "what the hell is it, Chowder", and with a sly grin Chowder swooped forward and pressed his lips against the green-clad boy. There was a moment of still, utter silence. Suddenly Gorgonzola jerked back, his back hitting the wall, face a bright red.

"THE FUCK!?"

"Sorry, I just suddenly really wanted to kiss you," Chowder said with a shrug, rubbing his cheek. It felt better. "You didn't have to pull away."

"YES I DID! I'M NOT GAY!"

"Gay? Me either," Chowder gave him a strange look.

"But you kissed me."

"Yup!"

"That makes you gay, since we're both guys."

"But I'm not gay."

"YES. YOU ARE."

"No I'm not. Gay people are attracted to men," Chowder gave him another odd look. "I'm only attracted to you."

Silence.

"Th…The fuck…? Is that some kind of warped confession?"

"Hmm. Probably," Chowder stood off the toilet and peered into the mirror, fixing his wrinkled, tilted hat. Gorgonzola gawked at him, at a loss for words.

"But I hate you."

"No, you're jealous of my job," Chowder corrected. "Biiiig difference, jealousy and hate. Kinda like the difference between smart and stupid. I call the smart position!"

He wasn't making sense. Gorgonzola continued to stare, lips still tingling, body still weak with shock.

"Well, I still need to get my smeggs," Chowder walked over, kneeling down in front a shell-shocked Gorgonzola. "Can I have a good bye kiss?"

He snapped out of it and scowled. "NO WAY YOU QUEER FREAK. FUCK YOU."

"Man, you have a sailor's mouth," Chowder looked offended. "I've never heard such language."

"Fuck. You."

"Fine, I'll leave dude," he whimpered pathetically. "I confess and I get kicked out? Aw man, I blow."

He left the bathroom, and judging by the sound of a large door shutting, he left the house too. Chowder got his smeggs not long after that from a stand in the town, and he managed to avoid Panini before he reached back home, where he marched into the kitchen. Mung had a large bowl in front of him, stirring, and Schnitzel was sweeping. Mung looked up, expression strange when he saw Chowder.

"There you are. Did you get the stuff?"

"Yup," Chowder hummed happily, handing him the….oh, no. "Uh, I forgot the flossberries at Gorgonzola's place…oops. HA. SILLY ME, MY BRAIN MUST HAVE BEEN MOMENTARILY MELTED BY LOVE!"

"Uh, I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that. Anyway, Chowder, I knew you'd find a way to screw a simple errand up. Not only that, you were gone all day! It should've taken you minutes," he sighed in frustration. "Go to whoever-his-name-was' house, and get the smeggs, this order is being picked up in—aw flowercock—an hour! Go go go!"

"Aye sir!" he saluted.

"CHOOOOOWDER," a high-pitched voice suddenly screamed. Truffles. "YER LIL' FRIEND IS HERE FER YAH!"

Chowder curiously hurried out, brightening when he saw Gorgonzola. (Truffles wasn't there anymore. Chowder assumed she left to slack off again.)

"Dude—" Chowder began, but was cut off by the agitated male.

"You forgot your smeggs," he handed him the carton. Chowder sadly took it. "That's so you, Chowder, you idiot."

"…"

"Um, hey, after you finish the order, wanna maybe, er, teach me how to make thrice cream? My ma got me the machine to make it for my birthday last month, but uh, I don't really know…"

"HUZZAH!" Chowder yelled. "SURE I WILL! Count me in!"

Gorgonzola snorted. "I'm going to forget you kissed me and confessed to me, you queer. I'll be fine with being frenemies. Got it? That's the extent of our relationship. Are we clear?"

Chowder beamed.

"Clear as a smegg!"

Sigh.

That was so Chowder. :D