Halloween Party (Chandlercoln, Roundrobin)

Note: Every entry is Anonymous. Numbers indicate the entirety of an entree's contribution and are seperated by numbers (1,2,3,...)

(1)
>Lincoln creaked open the bathroom door and peeked out into the unlit hallway.
>The music from the party downstairs thumped up through the floor but none of the lights were able to reach this far into the house.
>Gingerly, he stepped out into the dark with his fingerless sleeves in a sweaty grip around his bag strap.
>He shivered under a draft from the air-conditioning. He was wearing much less fabric than what he came in with, or maybe it was just cooler up here than on the lower floor with all the moving, dancing bodies.
>Either way, he hoped he was the only guest who snuck up here, or if he wasn’t, that they were too busy doing… probably what he was about to do.
>A chill swirled around his bare midriff and up his spine but his face stayed hot.
>The slivered outline coming from the far left door at the hallway’s end stood out like a beacon.
>Lincoln headed for it one cautious step at a time with a wool-covered palm to the wall.
>His heart knocked against his chest and he wished he could stop breathing so loud.
>A final step brought him to the door; it was open a crack, but not enough to peek inside.
>Steading himself, Lincoln entered.
>A lamp on the bedstand was on, but no one was around.
>And a piece of paper on the bed.
>Lincoln went in further and picked it up.
>It simply read "Boo."
>"Scared?"
>Lincoln cried out as he was suddenly jerked back.
>An arm encircled his waist and a hand squeezed around his throat, forcing his head up.
>He could only manage a strangled gasp until the pressure on his windpipe let up.
>"Good, stay that way."
>The aftermath of panic and a lack of air left him reeling, light-headed, spots popping in front of his eyes.
>And a tingling at the bottom of his stomach as possessive fingers remained curled around his neck.
>Chandler's body spray was heavily used and Lincoln took it in with every shallow breath.
>He whimpered as the other boy shifted his hips and forced their closeness to the point.
>"Trick or treat, Larry?"

(2)
>"L-Larry? B-But my names Lin-"
>"It doesnt really matter WHAT you think your name is, now does it?"
>The hand on his throat pulled back a millimeter, making Linc flinch back into his captors shoulder.
>"N...... No" he exhaled, shakily.
>the hand on his bare abdomen smoothly inched lower, brushing the tight fabric that he had been told to put on as a "costume" for the party.
>purple wasnt his favorite color, but at least he wasnt completely naked
>"Now, Laaaaary, I said, Trick"
>the hand brushed his throat lightly
>"or........treat" chandler whispered in his ear
>the other hands fingers tracing delicately across the spandex below
>Lincoln swallowed hard, thinking wildly for a moment

(3)
>He knew his answer wouldn't matter, but if got Chandler to loosen his grip on his wind pipe at least a bit more he didn't care.
>"Trick." Lincoln managed to croak
>With a satisfied smirk Chandler's grip began to relax, a gesture Lincoln appreciated with audible, welcome gasps of air.
>Followed immediately by another gasp as he felt the hands lower themselves further down.
>The hand at his throat lowering down to his chest, making circular motions as they stopped at his breast his fingers feeling through the thin fabric pinching at the skin beneath.
>The hand at Lincoln's crotch lowered still, drifting inward and rubbing his inner thigh. The uncomfortable touching causing Lincoln to clamp his legs together in a very unmanly fashion.
>"What's the matter? You not enjoying the party?"
>Before Lincoln could answer he felt the hands recoil back and shove him forward, the sudden jolt forcing Lincoln to stumble over himself and fall to the floor dropping his knapsack.
>Slightly disoriented he braced himself against the side of the bed. The tight clothing making the menial task of standing up far more taxing with his restricted movement.
>On his feet now he noticed Chandler standing with his back to the door, blocking the only exit.
>"Come a bit closer." Chandler commanded. "Let me get a good look at your costume."
>Lincoln swallowed hard.
>Chandler smiled.

(4)
>Reluctantly Lincoln obeyed, shuffling forward with eyes downcast.
>“Uh-uh, that’s not the way you do it,” Chandler chided. “I said let me get a good look. You know what I like,” his voice dripped with suggestion.
>Lincoln did know. His ears rang from a sudden rush of blood. His face threatened to burn up.
>Chandler leaned back and folded his arms, tapping a finger impatiently. He watched and waited.
>There was no getting out of this.
>Lincoln sucked in a quavering breath and rapidly blinked back the tears.
>Holding Chandler’s eyes with his, he sauntered towards him with a deliberate roll of his hips.
>He tried to keep it catlike; a spandex-clad toe would touch down, melt into a sway of his too-tight short jeans, and the next leg casually swung around to repeat.
>It felt so unnatural and humiliating, every nerve impulse cried out for him to stop.
>Chandler’s smile grew wide and hungry as he took it in. “There you go, that’s what I wanted to see.” He rose up in expectancy. “Now hurry up and c’mere.”
>As soon as he was within arm’s reach, Chandler’s seized his hips and pulled him close, not even trying to hide his excitement.
>Lincoln automatically arched his back and pressed his hands against Chandler’s chest in a futile attempt to escape.
>Eventually he forced himself to calm down.
>Lincoln submitted to being held.

(5)
> their crotches pressed together as he drew Lincoln in, electricity shot through both of them as he rubbed against the tightly costumed boy.

>tonight, he would get what he wanted

>"D-do I HAVE to go back downstairs dressed like....... this??", blushing hard at the thought.
>Chandler felt the Log stiffen when he said that, showing Lincolns true desires.
>"look dude, this was the deal when you said you wanted in. It's been a while since you left the loser table, think theyd want you back ?"
>Lincoln groaned
>chandlers turn to blush "look, I ..... I actually kinda like you....BUTNOTLIKETHAT....really" through clenched teeth

>tsundere little shit

(6)
>Lincoln's blush deepened causing Chandler to let out a light chuckle. It wasn't as if he hadn't planned ahead for this.
>"If you're really that embarrassed about it, then we can always give you a nice little makeover."
>"M-makeover?"
>Chandler nodded and took slow purposeful steps toward his night stand. Opening the bottommost drawer he pulled out eyeliner, eye shadow, lip stick, earrings, and other assortments of make up placing them all spread out for him on the bed.
>"Well, that should be enough right? Just put a couple of these on and you'll be unrecognizable."
>Lincoln's expression dropped. It seems as if all those tireless hours of playing dress up with Lola might be finally pay off, just not in the way he thought it would. Quietly surveying everything laid out before him he was even convinced this might work.
>"Okay." Lincoln said with nod. "I think I can work with this."
>Chandler's smile widened. "How long do you think you'll need?"
>"Fifteen. Maybe ten minutes."
>"Alright you get ten." With a passing wave Chandler left the room leaving Lincoln to prepare.
>Closing the door behind him Chandler leaned against a nearby wall producing his phone.
>With a few light taps of the screen the message has been sent.
>10 Minutes

>With a smirk Chandler headed back down to make the last few preparations for his little toy.
>Make up wasn't gonna do shit he knew that for a fact. But everyone here knew about Chandler and his 'girl'.
>Everyone knew not to make a fuss.
>Everyone knew not to say a damn thing.
>Everyone knew not to talk to 'her'.
>Of course that wouldn't stop the occasional wondering eye. And if some of them couldn't keep their hands to themselves well that wasn't his fault.
>This would be the night Lincoln would learn his place.

>Sitting in the designated corner of the house where it would all go down. Chandler produced a collar from his pocket and waited.

(7)
>"Awesome costume!"
>"Hm yeah. Enjoy the party."
>Another person to compliment Chandler's bargain Dracula cape faded into the main throng of guests.
>Meanwhile, he and his select circle enjoyed a bubble of space.
>He emptied his soda can and tossed it near a garbage bin. Someone got up and made sure it got in.
>His phone glowed in the semi-darkness as he checked it.
>No sign of the entertainment; three minutes left.
>A smudged-up, powdered zombie with a faux hawk sitting on his right saw him looking. “You sure he’s--” Chandler shot him a warning glare. “Uh, she’s not getting cold feet? Y-your girl, I mean?”
>Chandler shoved his phone in his pocket and blew a dismissive breath out of the side of his mouth. “Trust me, she’s down for this or I boot those losers that Loud kid came with.”
>"And this is all so you’ll do her cousin a favor?” The heavyset kid on his left snickered. His stiff blond hair made the brown wool on his cheap vest look even worse. He was either a caveman or a werewolf.
>"She’s doing this for me,” Chandler said tersely, “Now go get me another Peach Fizz before she gets here.”
>An entire portion of the long sofa shifted as the woolbeast rose and lumbered off towards the kitchen grumbling.
>Chandler’s finger bounced an agitated beat against his thigh. He fished his phone back out of his pants.
>A minute left.
>Growling, he pushed his phone face down into the seat cushion.
>The zombie noticed but didn’t say anything this time.
>The woolbeast returned and Chandler snatched the drink without even looking at him.
>There was a fuss when the sofa dipped, but Chandler's attention was in one direction.
>A figure appeared from the shaded stairway, seemingly hesitant in the way they came down.
>Chandler’s eyes locked on.
>The zombie and woolbeast scooted uneasily watching a predacious smirk cross his face.
>Beneath his cape, he ran a thumb over the collar’s cool dog tag.

(8)
>Normally the funky beats and literal gallons of junk food and soda pop would have been a welcome sight to Lincoln, but given his predicament and downright gaudy attire the boy who would usually love being the center of attention wished he could be anywhere else but here.
>As far as anybody knew though Lincoln wasn't here. He had gotten sick just in time for Chandler's yearly Halloween party and had told his friends to go and enjoy it for him.
>So the person hiding in the shadow of the staircase wasn't Lincoln. What her name was he hadn't come up with yet.
>"Oh god. Oh my god." Lincoln was taking deep breaths trying to steady his nerves and ready himself.
>"Enjoy the party!" He was told. But dressed the way he, or rather she, was made his face rosy with embarrassment and his eyes start to tear up.
>As he considered running out his eyes, scanning the party and its guests, met Chandler's.
>With a resigned sigh and quick prayer Lincoln stepped out from the shadows and joined the other guests.

(9)
>The humid atmosphere didn't help Lincoln’s shortage of breath.
>He shuffled through the crowd as it flowed to whatever was pumped out of the stereo system. He couldn't hear it over his own buzzing tension.
>Chandler’s eyes glinted ahead and never left him.
>The urging behind them was palpable. So intense, Lincoln had to blink to stop the room from curling into a tunnel around them.
>Bodies bobbed in between and broke the line of sight, then danced out of the way and the spell was cast again, moving his legs.
>Every stare caught made his stomach flip. He tried to will the lights dimmer to make his makeup more convincing.
>He had powdered his freckles and been heavy on the lipstick to distort his mouth into an ebony mass. His black wig wouldn’t cover half his face like he wanted, so he had a curly bang bouncing over one eye instead.
>In the end, it was a pale girl in a trashy Goth witch getup that entered the VIP corner and not Lincoln Loud… he hoped.
>It didn’t seem like Chandler had any real costume himself except a generic spooky cape.
>Chandler nudged his lackeys sitting on either side of him and stood up with open arms. “There she is, making me wait for a dramatic entrance.” He stalked forward and flashed a pair of plastic fangs.
>Lincoln froze, curling his arms against his chest, unsure of what his move should be and dreading what Chandler might do.
>He got hugged around the waist and remain stilted as Chandler wheeled him around to face his inner circle.
>Chandler gave Lincoln’s waist another squeeze and addressed the couch. ”So guys, this is Larrisa. You don’t see her around because she goes to a prep school.” His fingers played over his lower ribcage. “Say hey, babe.”
>Lincoln squirmed, tried to put a hand over his to make him stop and earned a few giggles from the girls. He managed a shy smile and wave. “H-hi,” he said in a voice that quavered high.

(10)
>He scanned their small VIP corner for familiar faces and felt the slightest bit of relief that he couldn't identify anyone there, lowering the odds of being recognized himself, but with their eyes all on him Lincoln could feel the embarrassment settle in regardless.
>He wanted to retreat. To shrink back and hide in a small corner for the rest of the night, but Chandler's hand around his waist grounded him to his situation and he knew he had to play along as 'Larissa' just to save face.
>Preoccupied with his own embarrassment, Lincoln paid no notice as Chandler glanced at the two boys he had been sitting with when he showed up. There were no words exchanged between them. There was only a smile and a nod.
>In response, the zombie-boy stood up from his spot and patted the now vacant seat gesturing for the pair to sit. The host at his throne and his main squeeze just within arm's reach.
>It should have been uneventful. Just a couple steps to the couch. But as Chandler's hold to his hips relaxed he could feel the same hand move further to his back then downward. The feeling of his ass being groped suddenly caused him to jump, and he bit his lip to try and hold back a surprised squeal.
>By the time Lincoln reached the couch he had burried his face into Chandler's chest to hide his burning shame and the tears that had started to form.
>Chandler pulled him into his chest and wrapped his arms around his perceived date. A gesture that seemed well intended and meant to soothe the worries of his beloved, while also hiding the forming grin on his face.
>"C'mon sweetie there's nothing to be ashamed of. We're all friends here," Chandler spoke, loud enough for the others to hear. "Besides if you cling onto me like that you might give the others the wrong idea."
>The giggles from the other guests didn't help his mood much.

(11)
>Lincoln peeked around. He wasn’t the only “girl” getting cozy with their date.
>Hands were up the back of shirts and stuffed in rear pockets. Conversations carried on nonchalant.
>He jumped as the back of his own top climbed up and exposed his lower back. Fingers slid into the dip of his spine. A chill traveled up it from a hot puff of breath against the shell of his ear.
>"It’s a party, Lar,” Chandler murmured. “You gotta join in the fun.”
>Lincoln recoiled. He tried to wiggle out of contact, but Chandler’s hand pressed down and held him in place.
>Chandler fixed him with an annoyed look. “What’s it going to take to get you into this, Larry?” He said only loud enough for Lincoln to hear. “You backing out on me? Want to go back to being a loser with your old friends?”
>For the first time that night, Lincoln was going red from more than embarrassment. “This is too much. I thought this was supposed to be private.”
>"It is. Think anyone here would care who you are, even without the stupid disguise?” Chandler moved his hand lower and gave Lincoln's backside a swat, making him jolt and bite back a squeal. “Loosen up already.”
>The sting lingered and Lincoln grimaced, but Chandler glared him down until his expression softened with a sniffle. His cheeks remained rosy.
>Chandler snickered. “Don’t be like that, babe. Here, I got you a little something to help you loosen up.” He reached back behind his cape.
>Lincoln’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
>With his fangs stretched in full display, Chandler spun a leather collar around his finger. The dog tag attached to it jangled and drew attention. “Finishing touch on your costume, something to make this night real special. Got it made just for you.”
>Lincoln shuddered as Chandler reached out and stroked a thumb over his throat.
>"Yeah, I’d say it’s just about your size.”

(12)
>It felt like a scene straight out of one of Lucy's Vampire flicks. The Count's reveal of his true nature, as he charms and traps a fair maiden before sinking his fangs into her neck. And Lincoln knew exactly what role he was playing.
>Chandler seemed to know his own role as well as he gripped Lincoln's neck just a bit tighter, and he pressed his thumb just a bit harder into his throat.
>His breathing was raspy, and he tilted his head upward hoping that would somehow help, but displaying his neck more only urged Chandler more. More so that he hadn't even noticed that he licked his lips in a throbbing anticipation.
>It wasn't exactly time for the grand event yet, but he allowed himself to indulge just a bit as he leaned forward and blew into his ear. He felt Lincoln jump what felt like a full foot at the sensation, and heard what might have been a screech fizzle out into a harsh gasp.
>"C-Chandler!" Lincoln tried pushing himself away from Chandler, but in his excitement Chandler leaned into him propelling them further onto the coach and catching the attention of the rest of the VIPs.
>Before he knew it Lincoln lay sprawled out on the couch and Chandler, with his hands braced right next to Lincoln's head to keep him from falling over, was just a couple inches above him. Their groins rubbing against one another.
>Chandler shook his head, but couldn't keep the grin on his face from widening. "You see what happens Larry? I ask you to do one thing, and you end up embarrassing yourself trying not to do it." He lowered his face an inch closer. "Unless, maybe, the collar wasn't enough for you?"
>Mortified, Lincoln rappidly shook his head.
>"Okay, then." Chandler produced the collar and shook it in front of him. "Then put on the damn thing before you make a bigger fool out of yourself."
>Lincoln gave a resigned sigh.