faust teases the everliving shit out of peanut

part 1

I was standing right before his door. Snow was falling before my face, making my pale cheeks grow a bit red. With a bouquet of flowers in hand and a note that said "Fuck you" with a troll face hand drawn on it, I saw as he opened the door. "Here! This is for you." I said as I offered the flowers and the card, only for both to be thrown to the floor and have the door immediately shut in front of me with a loud noise.

I couldn't help but to release a light laugh. I loved teasing Peanut every now and then, but this was as far as I had ever gone, meeting him personally and trolling him a bit. Peanut wasn't fond of my games, but we have been friends for quite some time now, and he was used to it. I picked up the flowers and card, threw away the flowers, kept the card, rang the bell a few more times to make him open the door, and waited. Shortly after, he opened again.

—Fucking. Fine. sigh You can come in.

—O-kay! Thank you! — I gave him a smirk and winked. Acting a bit gay always made him a little mad.

—Don't use that tone or wink with me in a 20 meter radius. — See? It works wonders!

I went around his house, as he gave me a little tour. When I saw he got distracted for a bit, I quietly left him and went to the kitchen. Why? Eh, I felt like having a snack. I opened the fridge and started looking inside to try and find out something I could use. When Peanut had found me, he saw me with two plates in the table, each one with a bagel with peanut butter and honey. The honey was dripping and the peanut butter jar was now empty, which he did not appreciate, but he sat down and started eating anyway.

Despite this being a very simple recipe (can you even call that a "recipe"?), I was really enjoying it. Him, however, not so much, especially since the peanut butter had now been finished and there was no more in his house.

—What's wrong? Is the meal not soft, sweet and nice as you wanted it~?

—You come into my house, you leave while I'm showing you around, you spend the food I had been managing, and now you ask me "What's wrong"? Are you out of your fucking mind?

—Well, maybe a bit.

—Shouldn't have asked, I knew you would say something like that. At least the food you made is really good...

—Oh, really? I'm happy to hea-

—I'm being sarcastic, you shithead! This tastes like ass.

—Wait, have you ever eaten as-

—No, and no, I'm not gonna eat yours. Stay away. Gross.

—Aw, you predicted my line...