giddy seizures - falsettos oneshots

greaser/social!falsettos (except jason)

Author's Note
ok so this entire au is based on S.E. Hinton's "The Outsiders" - if you haven't read that, i'll briefly explain what a Social and a greaser is. they're just social groups. the Socials are the rich kids who live on the west side who tend to dress much nicer. the greasers are the poorer kids who live on the east side and tend to dress in lots of leather and smoke a lot.

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"Why the fuck is there a filthy Social in my good, cigar-infested household?" Whizzer deadpanned, adopting a fake, nasally voice to make it obvious that he's joking.

Charlotte, a Social, and Cordelia, a greaser, were comfortably seated in Cordelia's shockingly beautiful and well-organized living room.

"Whiz, babe, it's just Char. You know she's an exception!"

Cordelia sunk further into her beautiful, light blue couch, wrapping her arm around the darker Social's shoulders, snuggling into her half-heartedly. She clearly didn't mean anything by it, for she was affectionate with everyone, but Charlotte blushed, nevertheless. She seemed to have a thing with bringing home love-starved girls.

"Don't worry, Char," Whizzer walked behind the couch, patting her shoulder reassuringly before plopping onto a comfortable chair to the side of them. "I'm just tired from work."

"Honey, you know you don't have to do that to yourself. I could just give you some money -"

"'Delia, I've told you before and I'll tell you again. I don't want your money."

Cordelia is a former Social, which is why her house was so nice, for she knew how to organize things and make them lovelier from her Soc skills. The only reason she had to switch social class was because her parents died when she was just shy of finishing high school, which made both her chance of going to college and her financial stability plummet. It was astounding that she still managed to be so open and vulnerable when something so awful happened to her, but the greasers understood. They all knew what it was like to be abandoned or hopeless.

The reason, however, that Cordelia was so concerned about Whizzer's job was because he's a prostitute. He doesn't want to be, by any means, but he never got to finish school and doesn't have a license to work at any restaurant, so he was a bit desperate. Finding a good job on the East Side was difficult enough.

"Wait - do you know Marvin, by any chance?" Charlotte suddenly spoke, seeming to piece the vague conversation together somehow. She truly was incredibly intelligent.

Whizzer scoffed, "I don't remember names. Do you have a picture?"

The Social quickly typed something on her phone that presumably costs more than the greaser's entire closet. She scrolled for a moment before suddenly coming to a stop, turning her phone around for him to see.

He eyed the photo slowly, searching his brain for any familiar feature.

From his obnoxious dress shirt and tie in the photo, he's a Soc. Messy, long brown hair; a bit of a scruff. Nothing super unusual, then Whizzer caught a unique feature. His piercing, blue eyes.

"Oh! Yeah, I know him. That's the Closet Case from two weeks ago. What about him?"

Charlotte sighed, relieved as well as frustrated, "He literally won't shut the fuck up about you."

"Damn," He began to get a bit cocky, his lip quirking a bit upwards. "My blowjobs are really that good?"

Cordelia immediately shifted her petite body and extended her small arm to slap him across the knee - in a loving, motherly way, to discipline him, almost.