A/N: Happy Birthday Chip! Sorry I'm a day late but I managed to churn this out even though it's been a rough day because I promised you guys I would and I really hope this makes your day! 

Brief warning, this has zero plot and is completely because I promised to deliver on Chip's birthday and I was unfortunately not cruel enough to let you Bakers down :') the context is a continuation of Switch #2, a personality swap between Chip and Xander. I had intended to write some Devil!Chip and Angel!Xander action in that birthday special but didn't have enough time to include it. So, well, here I am—back with some of your favourite things *sigh*.

Perhaps to set the general context of this specific chapter: it takes place when Chip and Xander are still high school students and Xander hasn't left just yet. So technically, it can be comparable to their first time in the first book; only, they now have swapped personalities. Also, it's in third person because I'm continuing the style of how I wrote it the previous time in Switch #2. Enjoy!

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The very first time Xander Jaxon had an inkling of Chip Honeycutt's hidden weakness—one that the latter had been doing his best to hide by lacing ever word with poison and ice—was when he'd unintentionally dropped a kitchen knife in the middle of their home economics lesson and panicked. The knife had landed on the floor with a clang, inches away from his feet and Chip's, drawing the most sharp and vulgar curse from his lips.

"Fuck—" Heads turned.

His partner had flinched from his tone, jumping visibly and turning at once on instinct only to meet Xander's gaze.

"Sorry," said the other, tight-lipped. He didn't know if he was apologizing for dropping the knife, startling Chip with the sound, or for cursing so boldly. "Did I scare you?"

Chip recovered with haste, straightening his back before returning to the crust of their pie. "Scare?" He scoffed. "What am I, some tiny pet?"

The slight tremble in his voice betrayed a hint of his weakness, heard only by the one standing right next to him. The difference was so subtle that had Xander not been paying close attention or standing a foot away from the other, he would not have noticed the slight nuance that was the very shedding of an exterior skin. It revealed something so strangely delicate that a mere glimpse of it seemed to ignite in Xander, the desire to see more.

"I don't want to hurt you or anything," he laid out the obvious, gaze fixed on his partner's lowered head. "The knife wasn't a small one."

Chip pretended to scoff. "If you're so worried about others, you should just hold the knife properly. You wouldn't need to worry so much that way."

There was a bold blade often hidden away that Xander now drew forth with a curious streak, frowning as he did so. Today, he was not in the mood for backing down without the semblance of a fight.

He thrust the blade. "Why wouldn't I be worried?"

"Because it's none of your business," returned the other without so much a glance, continuing to prepare the shepherd's pie for baking.

Words clashed like swords and it lit a flame in the otherwise untainted heart of Xander's— straightforward and pure as an arrow in its course. The flame, quiet and furious, whispered to the winds of the plain that soon began to change the arrow's destination, striking, instead, at the heart of a newfound target.

"Fine," he breathed a laugh, chucking the knife into the sink before drawing another from the block. "Guess I don't have to give a fuck about your worthless life then, since no one's gonna give a damn about someone like you anyway."

It had been a slip of the tongue, those words. Whatever they'd set out to achieve, they did so within a moment's wait for Xander caught his partner flinch—quite as though something had cut through his defences and pierced that which was fragile and weak.

Clink.

Chip made no attempt to take arms against the insult that his partner had thrown his way, merely setting the pie aside and taking the onions that Xander had cut. This, Xander would come to remember as the very first time Chip Honeycutt did not swing upon the sword that he'd dealt from above, allowing the fight to come to a gradual end.

And so, the pie was made in silence for the remaining minutes of the home economics lesson, leaving Xander oddly uncomfortable and dissatisfied. He would have seemed to someone else, unsated by Chip's response; having expected the other to put up more of a fight. It was only upon his inability to resist the thralls of temptation that he soon gave in to stealing a glance at Chip.

Big mistake.

Wet eyes betrayed a hint of red, pale cheeks replaced by something of vulnerable colour—the sight disarming him entirely. Xander's partner sniffed once, a sound that tugged at hearts and strings.

"Wait," the taller of the pair was anxious all of a sudden, startled by the softer features and unexpected reaction. "You're not—that wasn't what I meant," he tried to save, lowering his head to search for ground in Chip's eyes. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Admittedly, Xander was shocked. By no means had he intended to hurt his partner, let alone lead him to shed a tear or two. Regardless, Chip's mask did not disappoint; although he did struggle to wear it all the same.

"I don't care whatever it is you meant," glared the smaller frame, raising the back of his hand to his lips to hide another sniff. "It's the onions."

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

[time skip]

It had been slightly over a week since Xander and his sister had moved into the Honeycutt's bakery and the room upstairs, the former on a 'deal with the devil' that mostly necessitated his help in the kitchen. The contract was, very naturally, forged by no one other than the devil himself, Chip Honeycutt.

Transferring huge bags of flour from the delivery van to the storage in the back; carrying cartons of milk packed into boxes and popped in the topmost shelf of the main refrigerator and kneading the densest portions of bread dough for hours—Xander did them all. And without a single word of complaint.

He soon understood the reason behind the devil's contract that had, so deceptively, been all too good to be true. The bakery was desperately in need of someone with, well... decent arms. Simply put, a Xander Jaxon who could carry multiple twenty-pound bags of flour at one go was far too convenient to miss out on, and Chip Honeycutt was doing just that.

His sisters had applauded him for his exceptional display of fishing skills, having caught an angel fish so huge and valuable in the market. Unfortunately, the angel fish tended to squirm from time to time, proving itself a difficult catch.

"So this is why you need me," said Xander after his sixth day at work, removing his shirt before searching his bag for another. "You can't carry any of that."

Chip only scoffed. "It doesn't matter whether or not I can," he averted his gaze, looking elsewhere before remembering that he'd come up to his room to get a towel. "I'd rather not do it."

"Because you find them hard to carry," Xander finished with a knowing smile, not a drop of malice hidden on the corners of his lips. "You're really small."

"Taking showers together doesn't give you the right to comment on my body image," snapped the tiny, chucking a spare towel in Xander's general direction. It landed on his face.

"You're right, it doesn't. But," he wore a playful smile that seemed to disarm. "I was going to ask if you wanted to, you know, hit the gym sometime together. Or... the park. For a run. Tomorrow or something."

The invitation did not come as a surprise. Xander and Chip had spent enough time together to warrant such level of interaction, including sitting at one another's lunch table (correction, sitting alone at a different lunch table), decently cooperating during home economics lessons and understanding that each had their own secrets to keep. All that, and having seen each other naked.

"Running won't make me any taller," Chip raised his gaze to meet Xander's, an expression of scorn written all over. "Common sense."

"But it'll make you stronger," laughed his companion, blindingly positive despite the other's lack of amenable nature. "Then, you can carry those boxes and bags without my help."

"I hired you for a reason, Xander Jaxon."

"Yeah, and I'm trying to pass on the 'skills' that you've hired to you," said Xander after finally pulling out a shirt from his duffel bag, ready to hit the shower. "Doing you another favour, Chip."

"Running is out of the question," the blue-eyed baker laid out shortly, leaving the room and heading to the bath upstairs. Xander tailed him.

"Okay, then how about something else. Not running—but still working out. It'll do you great, I promise. You should try it out sometime."

It was the first time Xander had been so pushy about something as trivial as exercising, but that was only because he saw it as a way to get Chip to spend some time with him while ensuring that the latter wouldn't be helpless should he be forced into unwanted circumstances. That way, Chip would be safe.

Unfortunately, tiny misinterpreted his intentions. As he tended to do, always.

"Should?" He turned around, stopping in his tracks. "What, do I look dissatisfactory to you? Am I fat? Do I look so disgusting that you can't stand the sight of what I am, now?"

Without a doubt, Xander was not expecting the outburst to hit him square in the face. Startled, he could not find a way to respond, watching as Chip turned back around and picked up his pace, leaving Xander behind. Neither said a word for the next couple of minutes of entering the bath, undressing, and stepping into the shower.

It was only after one of them handed the other a bar of soap that Chip let slip a dangerous thought. Quiet and seemingly fragile.

"So. I'm ugly?"

It felt to Xander like a glimpse into the other's heart, past the castle walls and into the darkness.

"What? No," he turned at once with a frown, finally understanding his silence. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what?" His lips were trembling as he refused to look the other in the eye. "What else could you have meant?"

Taken aback by the escalation of matters that he did not at all expect or had, in the first place, any intention to spark, Xander could only shake his head. "That was not what I meant at all."

"Then just what did you mean?"

They were going around in circles, lost and confused. Chip's eyes appeared exceptionally vulnerable with the quivering of his gaze and it only brought Xander a step closer to realizing that the rude, insensitive self that Chip had often portrayed in front of others was merely a façade.

In truth, the boy was sensitive to insults and it was just as he thought it was. The nicer one was to Chip, the more he wished to defend against this and the worse they were to him, the more he did not know what to do or how to behave. His defensive front had always been more of a preventive measure instead of an active one, hence making him hopeless at responding to direct verbal abuse.

Xander could only be in quiet awe of this clever plan that seemed to have tricked all that Chip had ever crossed paths with—just... not this time. Not him.

Not Xander Jaxon.

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

[time skip]

The first time they did it, Chip had refused to be swept along the rhythm and flow that Xander had so naturally created with a reckless heart so simple and pure in its love for the other. Chip would not stand for anything that did not include some form of control—his control—and passion in bed was certainly no exception to this.

"Wait," he managed a word, unsteady, amidst irregular breathing. He could not bring himself to believe that the touch of a hand could be so heated, laced with desire. "I'll... I'll do it."

Xander stared, gaze following his companion as the latter pushed at his chest and sat him upright, climbing onto his lap with his knees on either side of Xander's legs.

"Someone's eager," he laughed quietly, resting his hand on the back of Chip's head before caressing downwards.

"I don't like being led."

"Really."

Again, Xander had laughed. Chip had said it in such an unconvincing manner—gaze aside, voice like a blossom in the wind, and the tips of his ears red—that he could not bring himself to allow the other room for lies.

Searching for a gap in his defences, he tried to find the perfect target to aim at; at the perfect time.

"Your fingers are trembling," was what he first observed when the other attempted to unbutton his shirt, slapping away the hand that Xander had raised to help him.

"Shut up. Stay still."

Chip had said this so quietly that his partner had almost mistaken it for a tone of embarrassment. He'd corrected himself immediately, thinking it a nearly impossible feat. Unless...

Xander reached for his shirt instead, undoing the topmost button without Chip's permission and testing the waters. If what he'd come to conclude was, indeed, correct, then—Chip would not know what to do if he was not in the lead. Without control over the situation, he would have to shed his mask.

"W-what are you—"

With three buttons undone, Xander leaned in to observe the flushed skin where his fingers trailed, a hint of it hidden behind the other's ears. His next act was involuntary and almost unconscious; leaning down to lick the ear as though it was a dessert meant for his tasting. Savouring.

Chip jerked away at once, startled by the contact before appearing rather indignant. "I said to stay still!"

"Okay, okay." Xander laughed. His shirt had finally come all unbuttoned (thanks to tiny's hard work) but Chip was having trouble with the former's pants. His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, the clinking sound filling the silence between amidst heated breaths and beating hearts.

"You sure you don't need some help with that?"

"I can do this," snapped Chip, intentions awry as he was no longer sure what it was, exactly, that he wanted to be or do. At the very least, Xander did not find him intimidating. Not with the kind of expression he was wearing at the moment—eyes half-lidded, lips and gaze trembling from the nerves.

He started by resting his hands on Chip's waist, causing the latter to stop whatever he was doing to dish out a glare, before reaching lower to the narrow hips that were hovering inches above his own. The temptation to force it down and bring their lower halves together was immense and Xander could not comprehend this overwhelming scent of invitation that a Chip so different from usual seemed to give.

His hands slid up and down the small of the other's back.

"Y-you..." Chip's eyes watched in harmless warning, slightly glazed. "Don't you dare—nnh! Ha—"

Xander had opted to go for Chip's inner thighs instead and the latter was weak at once, limbs failing all of a sudden as he dropped his weight—hips bucking unconsciously and brushing against Xander's lower half. His cheeks sported a forbidden flush; a rare sight that raised the heat to a new high.

"Your pants," Chip was not who he was just seconds before. Amidst heavy breaths and sighs of pleasure, he had let it all go. "In... in the way."

The devil's mask had come undone by the angel and it was with this that they became equals.

Xander made a move to lower the one in his lap onto the bed for comfort but Chip would not have him take any of the agency that he had over himself. He clung desperately onto the other, refusing to let go.

"I'm not... I'm not lying down."

"Why not?" Xander, too, was breathing heavily, gaze fixed on the smooth supple skin underneath his fingertips. "I might hurt you like this."

"I can handle it," Chip was stubborn, bent on insisting that he was to be in control. "Just, ha—don't touch me there! Just... just let me. I'll do it."

Riled by the unravelled mess stuttering inches before his eyes, Xander could only nod and stare, watching with his hands laxed and free while Chip prepared himself with a bottle of lube.

"You've... done this before?" Xander could not help but ask, concerned yet roused by the sounds that were coming from the other's parted lips.

"I... that's...none of your business," Chip's reply was soft and almost inaudible as he struggled to contain every spike of pleasure, afraid that he would let out embarrassing loud moans. "Wear the condom."

Xander did as told, hands roaming without permission. "But I want to know."

Occupied with his own preparations, Chip did not stop him at once. He was distracted by the look in Xander's eyes, confused by the emotion and exhilaration that he was feeling. It was not until he felt a hand with his own, reaching for the deepest parts of himself that his eyes widened, awake.

"W-what! I told you, I'll do it—"

"I want to do it too," Xander could only insist, feeling the warmth inside his partner and the quietly appreciating the sounds that their fingers, wet and slick, made together with the motion of thrusting inside.

Their fingers brushed against one another, occasionally entwining and caressing further and further. Made into a mess, Chip felt slightly light-headed from the amount of effort he was making to supress the noises that threatened to escape from his lips and had began to lean, unconsciously, forward onto Xander's shoulder.

Closer than ever, each could feel the beat of the other's heart and the sound of bated breaths, deep and uneven.

"Don't you think we're," Xander paused to breathe, observing the look in his partner's eyes that were slightly glazed. "Going a bit too fast?"

With difficulty, Chip responded with a shake of his head. "Hn—no."

"Don't you know what's foreplay?" The older, taller of the two laughed breathlessly, knowing that he was close to losing all composure. Thoughts of doing dirty, immoral things to the one who was increasingly a mess in front of him began to take hold of his reins.

"It doesn't matter."

"You want it so desperately?" Xander teased, full-on staring at Chip's lower half that was absent of clothing or any form of coverage. The bedside lamp provided enough light for everything to be seen.

Without responding, Chip raised his hips, positioning himself before hovering, just slightly above, the heat between the other's legs. Xander was nothing short of amazed.

Fortunately, the leader of the pair had gone too far, too deep, and had not the attention to spare the other a full observation of his reactions. It took him everything not to lose himself to the pleasure—the weakness in his legs.

"Just..." His lips trembled and he had to supress the shiver running down his spine. "Just stay still." Slowly, he lowered himself onto Xander's sex.

The soft, quivering heat received it at a pace so painfully slow that every pleasurable sensation felt to Xander as though it had been doubled. Tripled, even. It wrapped around the head of his length that eased into his partner's core, creating sounds that he'd never thought he would hear in Chip's presence. And all of a sudden, all Xander could think about was closing the distance between their lips.

"You okay?" He breathed, beside the ear that was small and red.

Indeed, Chip had prepared himself sufficiently but Xander noted that it was, still, a tight and seemingly uncomfortable fit, especially since he knew that his length would grow in size as soon as they begin to move.

"Does it hurt?" He prompted yet again upon receiving no response, tilting his head slightly in attempt to observe his partner's face. Chip refused to raise his head or return Xander's gaze, afraid that a single unnecessary movement would break the flow that he'd created.

"Angel." Xander was not stopping there. He licked and nibbled at the ear his lips were closest to, drawing a startled cry and a sudden arch of Chip's back. The latter struggled to straighten up, unintentionally causing Xander's sex to thrust in and out—or rather, up and down—inside him.

The spikes of pleasure that shot up his back made the smaller frame tremble; hips bucking at once as he dropped back down from his attempt to straighten up, triggering protracted whimpers into Xander's neck.

"You don't have to hide your voice like that," laughed Xander. Breathless. Amazed by how good that unintentional thrust felt and shocked by how much he wanted it to happen again.

"Y-you!" Chip was not in the condition to speak. "What... what did you call me?"

"Angel?" He repeated against the other's ear, holding onto his waist. "Do you like it?"

Chip was thrown overboard by the sudden streak of boldness in Xander's voice, completely speechless as he felt the entirety of his partner's length fill him in the second he'd let his guard down.

"Nn—! Aa—"

The sounds that escaped Chip's parted lips had to be illegal, or so Xander thought at once, provoked by the helpless, wanton tone of his voice that described an unravelled mess. The gap between the Chip he would see everyday and the one before him now—it was far too sinful for Xander to comprehend.

His sex eased in and out, driving harder and faster at every upward thrust; not forgetting to watch his partner's every reaction for the sweet spot he was searching for.

Xander could tell when he found it, at an angle that brought their bodies closer than ever. Chip was struggling to voice something amidst heavy breathing and embarrassing sounds, words surfacing every now and then before drowning below the surface.

"You're..." He held on tight, seemingly afraid that he would fall, "my first."   

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A/N: What do you think of devil!Chip? TBH I love him :') HAHAHAHA alright. Next week is an update for Flight School so I won't be seeing you guys around, but the week after that I'll be updating BL so, I'll see you guys then! Until next time :') 

-sighcuppie