Chris McLean Imagines

Short

A/N: I should be doing my statistics homework and instead I did this. 

Chris x Short! Gender Neutral! Reader

       Chris has a habit of picking on his best friend: (Y/N). You see, (Y/N) is incredibly short. They struggle with regular tasks the average height person could manage: getting things from cabinets, reaching the top shelf, keeping pace with a group of friends, 'normal' hugs; and Chris being the wonderful person he is, can't help but make fun of them for it, knowing fully well that is annoys the ever living crap out of them.

"Good morning, (Y/N)." Chris said as he yawned. He leaned on the counter behind him, watching as (Y/N) struggled to reach their favorite mug off the top shelf. Slowly, they turned to Chris, eyes full of hatred.

"Jerk."

"What did I do?" Chris asked, watching as they turned around and struggled to climb up on the counter.

"You know what you did." They said, getting onto their knees reaching for the mug. "You did dishes last night. Sometimes, being your roommate sucks." Chris snickered as (Y/N) slowly placed the mug on the counter and slid themselves safely to the floor. "Why couldn't I get my own trailer- like Chef?" They complained.

"We only have a certain budget, and if you like the delicious food we receive every day, you'll stop complaining." Chris commented, crossing his arms. When (Y/N) stuck their tongue out at him, he smiled in victory. (Y/N) took a moment, looking across the counters, then opening the cabinet to the right.

"God fucking- CHRIS!" They turned around, glaring daggers. "WHY IS MY (coffee/ tea) ON THE TOP SHELF?!"

"Oh, oops?" He commented, trying to hide his laughter. "Here, I'll get it for you." He quickly grabbed the container of (Y/N)'s favorite 'speedy juice' and placed it in front of them.

"....thank you."

       Chris had beaten (Y/N) to the mess hall once more and waited patiently for them to arrive before telling the campers about their challenge. The campers sat silently, watching and waiting, expecting some sort of comment or explanation for his silence.

"What are you doing...?" Owen finally piped up.

"Waiting for (Y/N). You know- tiny legs and all." He chuckled as they walked through the door.

"I heard that McLean, don't forget, I know where you sleep."

"You can't do anything. You're too small." He responded, raising a brow. They rolled their eyes, taking a seat and watching as he explained the challenge to the campers. Once the campers had dispersed, he turned to (Y/N). "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He said. (Y/N) raised a brow.

"Riiiiight...." They glanced around the room, looking for anything to say he was lying- a camera or something.

"There are no cameras. Honest." Slowly, they nodded.

"Alright, I forgive you." Chris smiled and headed to leave the mess hall, stopping to pat (Y/N) on the head. When they grimaced, he laughed.

"You know you like me." Chris somehow missing the burning red on their cheeks as he left. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief and he poked his head back in. "Might wanna hurry, don't wanna get left behind- we'd never see you in the crowd of teens." He joked, rushing off.

"MCLEAN!!!!" (Y/N) yelled, rushing after him.

       Chris had headed back towards the trailers, (Y/N) struggling to keep up. He stopped, crossing his arms impatiently as he waited for them to catch up. They were grumbling under their breath about tall people and their annoyingly long legs.