It's Xander's birthday! Quite recently as I was walking to the station and multi-tasking as usual (aka reading all your comments and trying my best to answer questions and stuff like that), I spotted this really interesting comment by one of my readers (oh nu I forgot who! Please leave a comment if you were the one) that featured them asking Xander: 'what if Chip turned into a devil?', to which they wrote, as Xander: 'hot'. Well, credits to them because here is a birthday special with Chip with a devilish personality and an uncharacteristically angelic Xander.

You thought the day would never come; well, you thought wrong >:D

*

The very first time Xander Jaxon caught a glimpse of Chip Honeycutt was when the latter had been called upstage during the school's assembly period and punished for dying his hair. While he could have been wondering why the seemingly tiny and harmless thing would not follow a rule as simple as 'do not dye your hair' or why such a rule was implemented in the first place, Xander was, instead, completely taken aback by the mismatch between the student's behaviour and his name.

Chip Honeycutt.

Good god, it sounded like a dessert. In fact, it sounded to him quite like something he would get at a pastry shop; one for him and another for his sister. Only—he'd yet to explore the rest of the town just yet, and having no one to show him around did not help his case either.

"It's always him," whispered the girl seated beside Xander, leaning a little too close for comfort. "Breaking the rules. Oh, and he has his eye on new people, so. Watch out."

Xander was used to being part of 'the new people'. Transfering schools was a norm for someone like himself, with nowhere to go and a father to please. He was, as of now, at the height of independence with a year left to graduate. All he had to do was work hard—then, he would never disappoint his sister. She was his everything.

"Um. I'm good," he nodded quietly, flashing a smile. "Thanks."

*

Apparently, Chip Honeycutt wasn't the only person in the school who 'had his eye on new people'. Everyone else was, too.

"Hey Jaxon, you gonna play for the school team?"

"When's the next match?"

"Where'd you come from?"

"Do you gym?"

The last one caught him off-guard, and while Xander was trying his best to answer each and every question with as many details as possible, he bumped into something. Well, not something—someone.

"Shit, sorry—are you okay?"

The person he'd bumped into had unfortunately lost his balance and fallen sideways, books and papers flying all across the hallway. Xander leaned down to help the other up; only to have his hand slapped away.

"No, I'm not okay," fired the bespectacled boy who'd bleached his hair a platinium white. "You must be blind to think that I am."

At once, Chip Honeycutt straightened up and brushed his shoulders. "Pick them up."

"Uh...sorry, what?" Xander blinked, watching as the other tidied his clothes, not even bothering to spare the transfer student a glance.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" He snapped. "You made me drop my things. You pick them up."

Xander did not need to turn to know that the people who'd paid him every second of their attention mere moments ago had somehow magically disappeared. The hallway was empty and quiet, save the rustling of papers and the turning of pages; books scattered across the floor. He stared at the other student.

"You're...that guy. Chip Honeycutt."

Said person had his arms crossed. "You're trying to change the subject."

"Fine," Xander backed down, laughing uncomfortably. "I'll pick them up. Relax."

"Then hurry up," sighed Chip with a shake of his head. "I've got class."

It was the attitude that got him curious about the person; not his appearance. More specifically, it was the gap between the former and the latter which made Xander Jaxon so intrigued by the seemingly small, fragile frame. He did not have it in him to argue with such a person.

"Here," he said after gathering every sheet of paper and (unintentionally) reading his essays and scanning through the other's surprisingly neat penmanship. "Done. Sorry about that. Guess...I'll see you around."

Chip laughed; the kind of laugh that was somewhat menacing. "You wouldn't want to see me around. I'm guessing you're new?"

"Um," Xander wore an expression that was a cross between a frown and a laugh. "Yeah. Jaxon. Nice to meet you."

His companion snorted, starting past him as he did so. "I didn't ask for your name."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Xander would never have imagined a string of fate between him and Honeycutt—two existences, worlds apart—or playing an unmistakable part in each other's past. It simply didn't add up.

Yet, for some uncanny reason and odd twist of fate, they found themselves in the eyes of the other.

"You'll be at station three. Over there," the home economics teacher assigned each and every one of the seniors to a counter as part of some junior-senior collaboration that Xander had heard about every now and then. No one really explained it to him.

"It's you again."

He heard the voice first before attributing it to its owner, still unable to get over the fact that a voice as soft and sweet as his handed out words as sharp.

Chip Honeycutt appeared mildly surprised and partly amused. As Xander started to the station and crossed the counter, he noticed the junior drop his pen on purpose, skilfully pretending as though he hadn't.

He picked it up. "You dropped something." And handed it back to him.

His partner laughed as though he'd told him a lame, elementary joke. "At least I don't have to tell you what to do this time."

Xander brushed aside the discomfort he was feeling from being stared at. It was unusual and strange to be paid such odd attention.

"I guess...? I'm not good with baking by the way. Sorry if I mess up or anything. I've never really touched any of this before," he gestured to the baking set.

"Don't worry. I figured you hadn't," his partner flashed a devious smile. "All you've touched are balls."

Xander could only force a stiff laugh. "You mean volleyballs." He received a playful smirk in return—unexpected and disarming. Hastily, he shifted the conversation elsewhere.

"So. Any ideas?"

"Cupcakes," Chip was already penning a list on his notepad. Truth to be told, Xander was not particularly fond of cupcakes but refusing the suggestion when he himself knew nothing about baking was clearly not the right thing to do.

"Sure. It's up to you," he shrugged. "Just tell me what to do."

At once, his partner seemed to change his mind. "I don't like the sound of that. Actually, you suggest something. No one's getting an A for doing nothing."

Again, Xander was surprised. It was obvious that Chip adored a challenge and had a particular distaste for easy prey.

"Uh, sure but I don't really know how to bake anything at all, so—"

"Answer the question."

Xander gave up. "I like hot cross buns. Does that count?"

He watched as the other, playful gaze and all, drop his mask and stare. Chip had stopped writing altogether and had turned to look at him.

"Really."

He then turned away and began to pen another list of ingredients before going off on his own to retrieve them. Not exactly knowing what to do, Xander stole a glance at the notepad to see—again, with surprise—that Chip had roughly planned out the measurements of each ingredient and even the steps. Clearly, he wasn't an ordinary 'Home Economics student'.

"You memorize the recipe?" Was what he could not help but ask upon the other's return, laying out the aprons and mixing bowls.

"I searched it up on the internet like everyone else would, idiot."

Xander was beginning to identify a pattern in Honeycutt's speech. The nicer someone was to him, the meaner his responses would sound. In fact, it seemed to him as though Chip Honeycutt simply disliked being associated with anything of positive quality. It was oddly amusing.

Regardless, Xander did his best to follow the instructions written on paper, intending to make up for his lack of participation in the making of the recipe in the first place. Naturally, he felt bad for making his partner do all the work.

As he began to add the rest of the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl, he was—at once—stopped by the other.

"What are you—" Chip reached over to grip his wrist and stop him from adding the prescribed amount of sugar. "Can't you read the instructions?"

Xander returned this with a puzzled expression. "Sorry? I mean, it says three spoons, right? T.P.S..."

"It says teaspoons, not tablespoons," his partner moved him over to take over the ingredients. "How illiterate can you be?"

The senior was somewhat shoved aside (somewha, because even though Chip was a fiesty little thing, physical strength just wasn't part of his natural being) and left cluelessly by the sink.

"Well, sorry I can't understand personal short forms, yoour majesty," he'd mumbled under his breath, to which Chip had turned on him with the most unbelievable sense of hearing.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry," sighed the other in return, not wanting to invite any more problems than he already had. "I'm seriously not cut out for baking, so."

"This has nothing to do with baking," Chip blinked, purposefully innocent. "All you had to do was read some instructions."

Xander gave up.

"Yes yes, it was my fault."

The tiny bubble of destruction passed an off-handed remark about having a hopeless partner before handing the latter the mixing bowl with all the ingredients measured and combined. "Mix this."

It was by natural instinct that Xander wished to lighten the terribly taut and heavy tension that somehow existed between them. He was mostly sure that he hadn't offended the infamous pebble in any way unless simply bumping into him was the whole story. Or was he that particular of transfer students?

Well-intentioned Xander made a seemingly casual remark about his partner. "You smell like freshly baked bread."

The moment he said it, he wished he hadn't. It sounded borderline creepy, now that he did.

"You smell like sweat," was (thankfully) all that he got in return. He'd believed it could have been far worse. At least he tried.

"Did I...do anything to offend you?"

Chip stared at him as though Xander had offered a strip tease. Then, without saying a word, he returned to his saucepan, watching the flame. Having expected this, Xander, too, returned to kneading the dough.

"I don't like your face," he heard all of a sudden, already amused and beginning to take no offense. Xander laughed.

"You must be going through a lot in your life to be annoyed by a stranger's face."

His partner snorted, casting his gaze skywards and ignoring him completely.

"Well, whatever it is," Xander had turned to him with a fair smile—the kind that could sweep any human being off their feet and also, coincidentally, the kind that Chip Honeycutt despised the most. "I'm sure you can handle it. You must have your reasons for...I don't know, being you?"

It was at this moment that Chip whipped around and closed the distance between them; getting right into Xander's face. "Xander Jaxon, you are very talkative, but that wouldn't have been much of a problem if you were a little more human."

The senior blinked, slightly taken aback by his words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," the boy with dyed hair and a terrifying attitude flipped him off at once. "Stop acting like an angel."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: SOoooooOOO I was actually hoping to write a naughty scene with Devil!Chip riding Angel!Xander—so, obviously Chip is doing most of the work himself huehuehue—with Xander starting to lose control over himself and ending up turning them over and making a mess out of smol devil but mEH. I AM SO RUSTY AT STRAWBERRY-WRITING so I decided...eh, maybe next time. Chip's birthday. :> Maybe.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know I did, 'cuz halfway through I started to realize that Chip would have been far more amusing if he had a devilish personality. When someone says something really nice to him he'd be ever more mean to them but when someone is mean to him, he actually doesn't really know what to do. That would have been really funny and interesting to develop.

(I know what you're thinking but Cuppie doesn't have the time to rEWriTE the series. :> BYE)

-Cuppiecake.

P.S some of you may be wondering like: WhUt kind of high school doesn't allow dyed hair?! WELL HAVE YOU SEEN ASIA—