Total excuse to write something – anything, actually. I needed the push and thought that this fandom was as good as any to practice with. Much thanks to ChaoticShiny, the website I used for this prompt:
"Write at least 600 words about a promise, a businessman, and a crutch. Focus on describing unusual details."
If things are unclear, it's because I'm rusty and suck at making canon characters canon and I write these in my bed at 11 at night.
"I broke my promise." The young man fiddled with his hat, turning the bluish-gray article of clothing around in his hands. His fingers slid nervously against the slightly scratchy felt material. He looked up from his seat behind the big desk in his office. "I told him that I wouldn't do that anymore."
"So? What does that loud-mouthed nosy creature know?" The young man's visitor sneered, taking off his large round glasses. "This is your business, not his. The Lorax can't tell you how to run your company. You know what you're doing, Once-ler." The man spun around in the center of the office, his green coattails flowing around his spindly legs. He suddenly rushed up to the desk and put his face right in the Once-ler's, a wicked grin decorating his features. "Heh, I mean we of course. Isn't that right?"
His younger version's eyes widened and then he looked down, flushing at the close proximity. "I suppose you are. But still, a promise is a promise! I told the Lorax I wouldn't cut down another Truffula tree, ever again." The Once-ler dared to glance up into his other self's familiar yet singularly wild eyes before saying, "I mean, I just feel so conflicted! We need the trees for my thneed, so the company can keep biggering. It's really not such a big deal. But then... why do I still feel so badly about the whole thing?"
His other self smirked and put a gloved finger up to his lips. "There is absolutely nothing to worry about. This is just business. And technically, you yourself have not picked up an ax since the family got here. You have not cut down a single tree since you made that promise. There's no need to get so worked up about just one little 'broken promise'." The green-clad man used air-quotes around that phrase and backed up from the desk. He pulled a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it up, taking a long drag. A lazy grin crossed his face as he blew out thick smoke. "Listen, as long as you got me around, I've everything under control. Nothing's gonna happen to you."
The Once-ler coughed as the smoke quickly filled the room. "Gah," he sputtered, waving a hand in front if his face. "Will you please not do that in front of me? I rather like the idea of living a bit longer without a black lung, 'kay?"
"Oh?" His other self raised an eyebrow, sharp teeth showing under his lips. They glistened beneath a taunting smile. He inhaled again and stuck the cigar out in front of him before smoothly daring the other – "Then come here and take it from me."
An indignant look washed over the younger Once-ler's face. "I think I will, ya big bully," he bit out angrily. Moving carefully, he gripped the arms of his chair and shakily pushed himself out of the seat. Moving to put his weight on one side of his body – his good side – the black-haired man leaned over and grasped the thin metal crutch that lay on one of the desk's legs. Putting it under his arm and balancing his weight comfortably again, the Once-ler started to move out from behind the desk to get at himself. He winced at the first couple steps he took – his leg had still not quite healed up from the last "confrontation" he'd had with his other self – but quickly grew used to the feeling of movement again and hobbled over to his doppelganger.
The other had a pleased, amused look on his face, watching the young man finally arrive at where he stood to take the cigar from his hands. Well, try to is more accurate. The green-clad version of himself grabbed the Once-ler's wrist with his free hand and pulled him in closer, glaring. His lurid blue eyes shone with dark promises and he leaned in to whisper in the other's ear, "Haven't I taught you anything? Number one rule of running a business: Don't let your emotions too heavily influence your actions." He turned to sensually brush his lips against the younger man's. "I believe that applies to other real life situations as well."
The Once-ler froze at the intimate contact. He was still too embarrassed to say anything, despite how many times before he'd "fooled around" with himself. Pushing away from his counterpart, he snatched the cigar from his hands instead. With the angriest face he could muster up, he threw paper on the ground before stomping out the still-smoking end with his good foot. Pushing past his other self, the Once-ler started slowly towards the door, crutch clacking against the ground, proud of his standing up to himself.
"Where do you think you're going?" He stopped when he heard his voice. It was just like his own, but there was always that colder, more self-confident tone behind the normal charm it held.
Turning to face his other self, the Once-ler simply replied, "It's 6 o'clock, Sunday. Dinner with the family, Ma's orders. I've gotta go."
"When are you going to tell the family that you didn't really get that injury from falling down the staircase? You may be a klutz, but that excuse won't hold up forever."
The younger man's ears turned red, while the humored, sadistic tone used sent shivers down his spine. "I'm never going to tell them about us – er, you. Never. Now will you just wait here till I'm done?"
The man in green shrugged, slipping his glasses back on. "Sure, you can go and keep on playing normal, but just remember – " He slid another cigar out of his pocket and lit it, smirking, " – you can't hide your true self from everyone forever. You've got to let me out some time."
The answering slam of the doors made the lanky man left in the room chuckle aloud. "And boy, I promise, that day will come soon."
And as you can see, the farther along I got, the more I strayed from the main point of the prompt. Which explains that last line as a last-ditch attempt to bring everything full-circle.
So thanks for reading this lame fic. I have six other prompts from the website saved, and Imma do 'em all [even if no one reads these].