Peterick OneShots

Flowers Aren't as Pretty as You

<this was submitted to @/saverockandsoulpvnk on tumblr based on an anon they received> 

Patrick had to hurry and stretch. He had to, absolutely positively had to.

It was part of his preshow rituals to clear his head, to help him get in to character and keep himself steady on stage. Quiet, soft music in the background, often whatever he would be dancing to that night, some stretches and water and getting dressed. It was usually very relaxing and methodical.

Unless, of course, the annoying flower boy was knocking on his dressing room door.

Pete delivered flowers to the people back stage, usually from audience members that enjoyed their performances. Sometimes, though, he'd relieved his own personally. Patrick had found out through some crew that Pete worked at a local flower shop, and really loved his job.

Unfortunately for Patrick, though, this meant that he was almost always knocking at his door with a freshly arrange banquet and a nervous smile.

Today was no different. In the middle of Patrick's stretches, there was a light knock on the door, the same tapping that Pete did every time. Patrick ground his teeth and huffed, getting off of the floor to let him in.

He didn't look at Pete, only opened the door and turned away, an invitation to come inside. Pete did so, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Evenin' Trick! I have three deliveries for you today, flowers for the stage's most precious flower."

Patrick rolled his eyes, looking up at him expectantly. Pete was grinning, looking down at him, his clothes too tight and eyeliner artfully smudged.

"Daises and sunflowers from a Ms.Stumph, and another banquet of yellow roses from a woman in the audience last night by the name of Elisa."

Patrick nodded. Naturally, his mom and friend from college. Well, at least it wasn't some flirty old lady like last time.

"And the third? You said three, Peter."

Pete grinned wider, somehow, his bright teeth glowing in the florescent lighting.

"Those are, um, lilies from me. They're fresh, we just cut them today and I arranged them myself." He seemed proud of that. Patrick looked at them curiously, blinking in surprise.

They were arranged neatly, each petal unblemished and on display, in a little crystal vase with a bow tied on. The lilies were a cream color, some with little dark spots, that seemed to go along with the lighting for tonight's show.

"Are they okay..?" Pete's voice was quieter now, timid. Patrick bit his lip, glancing up at him.

"They're lovely. Thank you," he paused, edging on saying more, but he shook his head.

"I have to finish stretching, do you mind..?"

Pete's grin shifted, eyes suddenly playful. "I most certainly don't; you're cute when you stretch. But yeah, I'll leave. See ya tomorrow Lunchbox!"

"Don't call me that!" he yelled at the closed door. Patrick huffed, sitting down to stretch again. When he walked out on stage, he most certainly did not stop to smell the lilies first, nope. And he defiantly didn't put them on his bedside table that night.

~

Pete returned the next day while Patrick was getting dressed. He was in his robe this time, trying to get his hair to cooperate and style the way he needed it to, when Pete knocked.

"Come in!" Patrick yelled, getting frustrated with his unruly hair.

Pete entered, bright smile on full display, and looked over at Patrick. He gaped a little, his mouth going from smiling to dropped open, eyes wide. To be fair to Pete, Patrick /was/ bent over a dressing room counter in nothing but a silky robe, pulling at his hair.