I'll Bring You Flowers Everyday Just to Roll You in the Hay
Title: I'll Bring You Flowers Everyday Just to Roll You in the Hay
Author: stfu_pwentzz
Pairing: Gabe/Pete
Summary: Pete gulped and continued to stand in front of Gabe’s car. He was (pretty) sure that Gabe wouldn't run him over. He was hoping at least. "No. Are you mad at me?"
Disclaimer: This is an act of fiction. I don’t own any of the characters just the plot.
Author Notes: Written for the "flowers" prompt on my schmoop_bingo card.
*
After the third call that Gabe ignored Pete knew he had fucked up somewhere.
He didn't do much. Woke up, woke Gabe up using only his mouth, made breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen then went over to Mark and Skye's house for the project that he and Mark were working on. They ended up just playing video games for four hours while their project gathered dust on Mark's pool table. Other than Gabe's apparent hatred for Mark's Xbox, which was completely untrue because Gabe loved that more than he loved Pete, he had no idea what he had done.
He drove back home just catching Gabe's arm before he walked to his car. Pete wasn't scared of Gabe, he wasn't, but the guy was eight feet tall, but when he was mad at Pete, he glared and his eyes almost turned black and it was a little bit frightening. If Gabe ever did get made enough he could punt Pete well across the yard.
Gabe yanked his arm out of Pete's easy grip. "Don't touch me Pete," he warned, his tone low and it almost had an ominous dread to it.
Pete took a step back. "Are you alright?"
Gabe glared and continued towards his car. Pete was quick to follow him because he was a glutton for punishment apparently. "Did...did I do something?"
Gabe slid in the car seamlessly but that didn't stop Pete from standing in front of the car. Gabe clicked the key in the ignition and revved up the engine. "Get out of the way," he said.
Pete gulped and continued to stand in front of Gabe’s car. He was (pretty) sure that Gabe wouldn't run him over. He was hoping at least. "No. Are you mad at me?"
The answer could probably be seen from a hovering aircraft because that's the point that Gabe hit the gas, hit Pete out of the way with his car as he fell on the pavement and watched Gabe drive away.
It was maybe a minute, probably closer to five, that Pete realized that his boyfriend had just ran him over with his car. It was another few minutes before he realized that he was in his fucking thirties and being ran over by a scorned lover was not as fun as it used to be.
Swallowing his pride he had to call Patrick for help. "Gabe, uh, he kind of ran me over with his car and I can't get up," he explained hoping for at least a little compassion.
Nothing.
Patrick snorted and threw in a "took him long enough" dick comment before he replied "I'm on my way."
*
Pete was being melodramatic, Patrick assured him. Everything was in its right place.
"Except my heart, Patrick. He drove off with my heart."
Patrick rolled his eyes. He should have called Joe. "I'm sure you deserved it."
Pete gaped. Pete was a good boyfriend. He did nothing that deserved five rejected calls and being run over. He hoped he hadn't at least.
He ended up at the local florists, anyway, whether he did something or not. It was a little too pink for Pete's tastes but it was a flower shop for Christ's sake. The things he did for Gabe's forgiveness, even though he didn't know what the hell he did.
The girl obviously knew the situation.
"Alright, what did you do?" She asked, sighing against the counter.
Pete hesitated. "I'm not really...sure."
She nodded and headed over to the carnations; she grabbed a few yellow and one red. "Did you apologize yet?"
Pete scoffed. "I'm not even really sure I did anything!" he protested.
The girl rolled her eyes and headed over to some lilies. "For one, you're here so that's a sure sign that you did something. So you didn't apologize. Is she talking to you?"
Pete frowned and his eyes headed towards the roses because he had a feeling that's what will get him out of this mess. "Six ignored calls and one almost homicide that I met with his car."
The girl made a pained expression. Pete didn't like the look of things. "Now this final part is the amount of days you’re willing to sleep on the couch."
None was apparently the wrong answer.
By the time that the girl had filed for flowers, Pete had spent enough money that could probably feed a third world country. Maybe. Pete wasn't really good with math. He had to remember to donate some extra money at the end of the month so he didn't feel totally guilty.
Sorry random third world country, he thought to himself as he carried the giant pile of flowers out to his car, Gabe's more important.
*
Gabe was sitting in the living room catching up on one of his reality shores. He claimed they were just guilty pleasures, but Pete had access to their browser history and he was leaning more towards obsessed. But he was in the doghouse, so they were just a guilty pleasure.
Gabe didn't acknowledge his existence, even when he was carrying the world's largest bouquet of flowers. Pete sighed and sat next to Gabe, deliberately making sure the flowers were in is way. It was childish, but it guaranteed that Gabe would notice his existence.
"Do you mind getting your weeds out of the way of my show?" Gabe asked.
Pete frowned. They were not weeds. Granted, he wouldn't know if weeds had been accidentally tossed in because whatever a green thumb was, Pete was the polar opposite. He had a gray thumb. A dark gray thumb.
"And stop sad-facing, that will get you nowhere, my friend."
Pete smiled a bit at that. He couldn't ignore his sad-face. It was Gabe's kryptonite.
Pete turned and found Gabe gazing at him, instead of the television and he counted that as a win because Gabe never paid more attention to Pete than whatever he was watching. Real Shore? Something like that. Pete couldn't be bothered by small details like that.
"You're not watching your show," he sing-songed.
Gabe rolled his eyes, and frowned at Pete. Then to prove a point, he looked directly at the television, even though his eyes kept teetering towards the edge of his eyelid, only jumping back to some blonde's face when Pete caught him.
Pete scooted closer towards Gabe on the couch and Gabe just made a noise, not pushing Pete away. Win.
"I got you these."
Gabe looked down to the flowers in Pete's hand. He picked it up and curiously put it to the bouquet. He made a face. "I think next time you should be fine with roses. This smells like ass."
Pete shrugged and leaned back to rest against Gabe's side, since he was apparently forgiven.
"I'm pretty sure I had "sucker" over my head in lights," Pete told him.
Gabe made a hmm noise. "Not that I'm complaining, but why flowers?"
Pete turned to look at Gabe and Gabe was smiling down at Pete. He wasn't mad anymore. "Because you're my flower," he said, poking his nose with his index finger.
Gabe snorted in his face and rolled his eyes.
"Get off of me, Wentz. The only cheese that gets to be on me comes from a can."
Pete didn't move, but wrapped his arm around Gabe's stomach and watched the rest of Gabe's show with him. They didn't say anything else until the credits rolled.
"So, uh, what did I do that you were so pissed about anyway?"
He was met with silence but when he looked up, Gabe was biting his lip.
"Nothing, it was stupid."
That was such a shitty answer. "No seriously. What was it?"
Gabe hesitated for a long moment before he spoke. "You probably didn't realize you did it, but you threw away my red bull."
Pete was confused. He was pretty sure he wouldn't throw away one of Gabe's cans of red bull, he did throw one that had been in the refrigerator for a week that only had an inch of liquid left.
That couldn't be it.
"...was it a full can?"
Gabe shrugged. "It was already opened, if that's what you're talking about."
"Gabe, it only had like an inch of liquid in it."
Gabe huffed. "So? I was going to drink it," he hissed. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Pete. "And on top of that you give me these shitty flowers instead. Let's go to the room so I can show you how a proper apology is given."
Pete shot up immediately. He already had plans of apologizing that way. Gabe waited for Pete to walk into the bedroom before he carefully set the flowers on the coffee table.
*
The next morning when Pete woke up to get some breakfast he saw the flowers in a vase. He smiled and walked back into the bedroom with a fond smile on his face.
End.
Author: stfu_pwentzz
Pairing: Gabe/Pete
Summary: Pete gulped and continued to stand in front of Gabe’s car. He was (pretty) sure that Gabe wouldn't run him over. He was hoping at least. "No. Are you mad at me?"
Disclaimer: This is an act of fiction. I don’t own any of the characters just the plot.
Author Notes: Written for the "flowers" prompt on my schmoop_bingo card.
*
After the third call that Gabe ignored Pete knew he had fucked up somewhere.
He didn't do much. Woke up, woke Gabe up using only his mouth, made breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen then went over to Mark and Skye's house for the project that he and Mark were working on. They ended up just playing video games for four hours while their project gathered dust on Mark's pool table. Other than Gabe's apparent hatred for Mark's Xbox, which was completely untrue because Gabe loved that more than he loved Pete, he had no idea what he had done.
He drove back home just catching Gabe's arm before he walked to his car. Pete wasn't scared of Gabe, he wasn't, but the guy was eight feet tall, but when he was mad at Pete, he glared and his eyes almost turned black and it was a little bit frightening. If Gabe ever did get made enough he could punt Pete well across the yard.
Gabe yanked his arm out of Pete's easy grip. "Don't touch me Pete," he warned, his tone low and it almost had an ominous dread to it.
Pete took a step back. "Are you alright?"
Gabe glared and continued towards his car. Pete was quick to follow him because he was a glutton for punishment apparently. "Did...did I do something?"
Gabe slid in the car seamlessly but that didn't stop Pete from standing in front of the car. Gabe clicked the key in the ignition and revved up the engine. "Get out of the way," he said.
Pete gulped and continued to stand in front of Gabe’s car. He was (pretty) sure that Gabe wouldn't run him over. He was hoping at least. "No. Are you mad at me?"
The answer could probably be seen from a hovering aircraft because that's the point that Gabe hit the gas, hit Pete out of the way with his car as he fell on the pavement and watched Gabe drive away.
It was maybe a minute, probably closer to five, that Pete realized that his boyfriend had just ran him over with his car. It was another few minutes before he realized that he was in his fucking thirties and being ran over by a scorned lover was not as fun as it used to be.
Swallowing his pride he had to call Patrick for help. "Gabe, uh, he kind of ran me over with his car and I can't get up," he explained hoping for at least a little compassion.
Nothing.
Patrick snorted and threw in a "took him long enough" dick comment before he replied "I'm on my way."
*
Pete was being melodramatic, Patrick assured him. Everything was in its right place.
"Except my heart, Patrick. He drove off with my heart."
Patrick rolled his eyes. He should have called Joe. "I'm sure you deserved it."
Pete gaped. Pete was a good boyfriend. He did nothing that deserved five rejected calls and being run over. He hoped he hadn't at least.
He ended up at the local florists, anyway, whether he did something or not. It was a little too pink for Pete's tastes but it was a flower shop for Christ's sake. The things he did for Gabe's forgiveness, even though he didn't know what the hell he did.
The girl obviously knew the situation.
"Alright, what did you do?" She asked, sighing against the counter.
Pete hesitated. "I'm not really...sure."
She nodded and headed over to the carnations; she grabbed a few yellow and one red. "Did you apologize yet?"
Pete scoffed. "I'm not even really sure I did anything!" he protested.
The girl rolled her eyes and headed over to some lilies. "For one, you're here so that's a sure sign that you did something. So you didn't apologize. Is she talking to you?"
Pete frowned and his eyes headed towards the roses because he had a feeling that's what will get him out of this mess. "Six ignored calls and one almost homicide that I met with his car."
The girl made a pained expression. Pete didn't like the look of things. "Now this final part is the amount of days you’re willing to sleep on the couch."
None was apparently the wrong answer.
By the time that the girl had filed for flowers, Pete had spent enough money that could probably feed a third world country. Maybe. Pete wasn't really good with math. He had to remember to donate some extra money at the end of the month so he didn't feel totally guilty.
Sorry random third world country, he thought to himself as he carried the giant pile of flowers out to his car, Gabe's more important.
*
Gabe was sitting in the living room catching up on one of his reality shores. He claimed they were just guilty pleasures, but Pete had access to their browser history and he was leaning more towards obsessed. But he was in the doghouse, so they were just a guilty pleasure.
Gabe didn't acknowledge his existence, even when he was carrying the world's largest bouquet of flowers. Pete sighed and sat next to Gabe, deliberately making sure the flowers were in is way. It was childish, but it guaranteed that Gabe would notice his existence.
"Do you mind getting your weeds out of the way of my show?" Gabe asked.
Pete frowned. They were not weeds. Granted, he wouldn't know if weeds had been accidentally tossed in because whatever a green thumb was, Pete was the polar opposite. He had a gray thumb. A dark gray thumb.
"And stop sad-facing, that will get you nowhere, my friend."
Pete smiled a bit at that. He couldn't ignore his sad-face. It was Gabe's kryptonite.
Pete turned and found Gabe gazing at him, instead of the television and he counted that as a win because Gabe never paid more attention to Pete than whatever he was watching. Real Shore? Something like that. Pete couldn't be bothered by small details like that.
"You're not watching your show," he sing-songed.
Gabe rolled his eyes, and frowned at Pete. Then to prove a point, he looked directly at the television, even though his eyes kept teetering towards the edge of his eyelid, only jumping back to some blonde's face when Pete caught him.
Pete scooted closer towards Gabe on the couch and Gabe just made a noise, not pushing Pete away. Win.
"I got you these."
Gabe looked down to the flowers in Pete's hand. He picked it up and curiously put it to the bouquet. He made a face. "I think next time you should be fine with roses. This smells like ass."
Pete shrugged and leaned back to rest against Gabe's side, since he was apparently forgiven.
"I'm pretty sure I had "sucker" over my head in lights," Pete told him.
Gabe made a hmm noise. "Not that I'm complaining, but why flowers?"
Pete turned to look at Gabe and Gabe was smiling down at Pete. He wasn't mad anymore. "Because you're my flower," he said, poking his nose with his index finger.
Gabe snorted in his face and rolled his eyes.
"Get off of me, Wentz. The only cheese that gets to be on me comes from a can."
Pete didn't move, but wrapped his arm around Gabe's stomach and watched the rest of Gabe's show with him. They didn't say anything else until the credits rolled.
"So, uh, what did I do that you were so pissed about anyway?"
He was met with silence but when he looked up, Gabe was biting his lip.
"Nothing, it was stupid."
That was such a shitty answer. "No seriously. What was it?"
Gabe hesitated for a long moment before he spoke. "You probably didn't realize you did it, but you threw away my red bull."
Pete was confused. He was pretty sure he wouldn't throw away one of Gabe's cans of red bull, he did throw one that had been in the refrigerator for a week that only had an inch of liquid left.
That couldn't be it.
"...was it a full can?"
Gabe shrugged. "It was already opened, if that's what you're talking about."
"Gabe, it only had like an inch of liquid in it."
Gabe huffed. "So? I was going to drink it," he hissed. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Pete. "And on top of that you give me these shitty flowers instead. Let's go to the room so I can show you how a proper apology is given."
Pete shot up immediately. He already had plans of apologizing that way. Gabe waited for Pete to walk into the bedroom before he carefully set the flowers on the coffee table.
*
The next morning when Pete woke up to get some breakfast he saw the flowers in a vase. He smiled and walked back into the bedroom with a fond smile on his face.
End.