Gingerbread
Title: Gingerbread
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG
Category: Romance
Warning: Slash and Fluff. Lots of fluff.
Pairing: Chuck/Patrick
Note: If you're ever curious, the explanation for the number 9 in this story is correct.
Summary: [standalone]
Gingerbread
"We've told you before, September birthdays rule."
"There's nothing more to it," I added onto Patrick's comment. It's amusing how he's always on about September being the greatest month of them all. Not that I have a differing opinion on the matter.
"You can stay out of it," Pierre pointed at me and threw a pretzel. I flinched as it hit my over-sized forehead and landed in my lap. Patrick, who was sitting next to me, reached down, picked it up, and ate it.
Danielle walked over to the sofa Pierre sat in and sat down. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. She shook her head as the conversation went on and laughed as Patrick, once again, said that September was the best month ever.
"I beg to differ," she said and sipped at her water, "I think December is the greatest month."
"Hey, hey, hey now," Patrick stuck his arm out in front of my view and pointed an accusing finger toward Danielle. "You're just saying that because your birthday is in December."
"Of course I am," she rolled her eyes and curled up next to Pierre. "Face it, the only reason you're so hung up on September is for the same reason; your birthday."
"That's not true," Patrick gasped and dropped his jaw. "I feel the way I do because my boyfriend's birthday is in September!" Patrick suddenly pulled down my head into more of a headlock than a hug, not that I minded too much either way.
"Kids, get in here, the cookies are ready for you now!" Mrs. Bouvier called into the room from the kitchen. I laughed into Patrick's chest and I think it was then that he realized he still had a hold on my chest.
He laughed as we stood up, "Sorry, man."
"Kids, in here now or there will be none for you!" I laughed and shook my head as the four of us walked into the kitchen.
Danielle exhaled heavily, "It smells really good in here."
"Yeah, Mrs. Bouvier," I agreed, "it really does."
She scoffed and whipped her hands off on a dishtowel, "Please, Chuck, I've only known you for a decade. You may call me Louise, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."
"Yeah," Patrick said and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, "we're allowed to call her Louise." He kissed my temple and I think I turned three shades of pink.
"Pas si vite," Mrs. Bouvier said, and pointed her hand at us, "That goes for Chuck, Patrick; it's still Mrs. Bouvier to you.
"O-Kay, lets get down to this," Pierre said and pulled Danielle over to the table. "Where are the gingerbread men?"
I laughed and walked over to sit down with Patrick. "I can't believe we're frosting gingerbread men, Pierre." He scoffed. "Seriously, didn't we do this when we were like, fifteen?"
"Yeah," he laughed again, "and she paid us to do it then."
I shook my head as Mrs. Bouvier came over with the cookies and the bowls of cookie frosting. After deciding to decorate the gingerbread men to look like the rest of the boys and ourselves, we set to work. Patrick was just finishing up putting a 9 on the back of the Pierre gingerbread man when Mrs. Bouvier came over to take the ones that we'd finished away.
"Where are you putting those?" Pierre asked and reached for one.
She batted away at his hand, "Oh no you kids don't. You don't get to eat these until the others are over tomorrow."
All of us at the table gave looks of shock as she walked away with the finished cookies.
"Okay, see, that's not fair," Danielle pouted and looked back to her gingerbread man when she saw Pat's. "Why is there a nine on the back of that shirt anyway?"
"That's easy Dani," I said and smiled as Patrick grinned and I felt his arm go around my waist. "There's a nine on the back because nine is the best number ever."
"Nine is the day of mine and Pat's birthdays - " Pierre started.
" - Pierre and I were born in the year nineteen seventy-nine - " I said.
" - And, Chuck and I were both born in the ninth month: September."
"Not that 'September is the best month ever' trip again," Dani sighed and shook her head.
"But it is," Patrick said in a drawn-out tone. "Besides, what's so great about your month, that could possibly top ours? You're the only one here born in December, whereas the two of us," he pulled me closer to him, "were born in September."
"I'm sorry. Dani, but two kinda beats - "
"No it doesn't. My birthday is in December and December has Christmas too so my month totally beats yours."
I shook my head. "This conversation or argument or whatever the hell it is - it's going nowhere fast and I'm just going to leave now," I said and yawned. "What time is it?"
"It's like, one thirty. You tired?" Pierre asked.
I yawned again, "Yeah."
"Well, I think this is a sign for you kids to head on to bed," Mrs. Bouvier said. "I'm going myself once I wrap up these last cookies. Thank you for the help, by the way." We nodded and helped to clean the table. I'm amazed Pierre's mother is even up at this hour. She's a lively one, that's for sure.
"All right then," Patrick said and stood up, grabbing my hand. "Let go out to the other room and rig up the pullout." I nodded and followed his lead. When in the room, Pierre helped put the pullout into position then headed up to his old room with Danielle shortly after I dove headfirst onto the mattress.
Close to two o'clock, Patrick sat next to me, "You really are tired, aren't you?"
I laughed, "Yeah, and I'm hungry. I should have remembered we never were allowed to eat the 'special' gingerbread men the night she made them. She always makes us wait."
"Hold that thought," Patrick said and grinned devilishly. He got up and walked out of the room as I sat up in my spot on the pullout. He came back a second later holding something but before I could tell what it was, he hit me with a pillow.
"Hey," I protested the attack and rubbed my eye. "Hmm, I'll be right back, I'm gonna take my contacts out." I stood up and grabbed my glasses before walking down the hall and into the bathroom. Emerging moments later and putting my contacts in my bag, I sat back down onto the pullout and looked at what Pat was holding: two of the gingerbread men.
"You said you were hungry. Here," he held out one, "you can have the one of me."
"How do you know it's you?" I asked and looked at the cookie I'd been handed. It really could be Pierre, Patrick, or me.
"Uhm... it's wearing my necklace. That's how you can tell."
I laughed, "So then who do you get to eat?"
"You, of course."
--
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG
Category: Romance
Warning: Slash and Fluff. Lots of fluff.
Pairing: Chuck/Patrick
Note: If you're ever curious, the explanation for the number 9 in this story is correct.
Summary: [standalone]
Gingerbread
"We've told you before, September birthdays rule."
"There's nothing more to it," I added onto Patrick's comment. It's amusing how he's always on about September being the greatest month of them all. Not that I have a differing opinion on the matter.
"You can stay out of it," Pierre pointed at me and threw a pretzel. I flinched as it hit my over-sized forehead and landed in my lap. Patrick, who was sitting next to me, reached down, picked it up, and ate it.
Danielle walked over to the sofa Pierre sat in and sat down. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. She shook her head as the conversation went on and laughed as Patrick, once again, said that September was the best month ever.
"I beg to differ," she said and sipped at her water, "I think December is the greatest month."
"Hey, hey, hey now," Patrick stuck his arm out in front of my view and pointed an accusing finger toward Danielle. "You're just saying that because your birthday is in December."
"Of course I am," she rolled her eyes and curled up next to Pierre. "Face it, the only reason you're so hung up on September is for the same reason; your birthday."
"That's not true," Patrick gasped and dropped his jaw. "I feel the way I do because my boyfriend's birthday is in September!" Patrick suddenly pulled down my head into more of a headlock than a hug, not that I minded too much either way.
"Kids, get in here, the cookies are ready for you now!" Mrs. Bouvier called into the room from the kitchen. I laughed into Patrick's chest and I think it was then that he realized he still had a hold on my chest.
He laughed as we stood up, "Sorry, man."
"Kids, in here now or there will be none for you!" I laughed and shook my head as the four of us walked into the kitchen.
Danielle exhaled heavily, "It smells really good in here."
"Yeah, Mrs. Bouvier," I agreed, "it really does."
She scoffed and whipped her hands off on a dishtowel, "Please, Chuck, I've only known you for a decade. You may call me Louise, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."
"Yeah," Patrick said and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, "we're allowed to call her Louise." He kissed my temple and I think I turned three shades of pink.
"Pas si vite," Mrs. Bouvier said, and pointed her hand at us, "That goes for Chuck, Patrick; it's still Mrs. Bouvier to you.
"O-Kay, lets get down to this," Pierre said and pulled Danielle over to the table. "Where are the gingerbread men?"
I laughed and walked over to sit down with Patrick. "I can't believe we're frosting gingerbread men, Pierre." He scoffed. "Seriously, didn't we do this when we were like, fifteen?"
"Yeah," he laughed again, "and she paid us to do it then."
I shook my head as Mrs. Bouvier came over with the cookies and the bowls of cookie frosting. After deciding to decorate the gingerbread men to look like the rest of the boys and ourselves, we set to work. Patrick was just finishing up putting a 9 on the back of the Pierre gingerbread man when Mrs. Bouvier came over to take the ones that we'd finished away.
"Where are you putting those?" Pierre asked and reached for one.
She batted away at his hand, "Oh no you kids don't. You don't get to eat these until the others are over tomorrow."
All of us at the table gave looks of shock as she walked away with the finished cookies.
"Okay, see, that's not fair," Danielle pouted and looked back to her gingerbread man when she saw Pat's. "Why is there a nine on the back of that shirt anyway?"
"That's easy Dani," I said and smiled as Patrick grinned and I felt his arm go around my waist. "There's a nine on the back because nine is the best number ever."
"Nine is the day of mine and Pat's birthdays - " Pierre started.
" - Pierre and I were born in the year nineteen seventy-nine - " I said.
" - And, Chuck and I were both born in the ninth month: September."
"Not that 'September is the best month ever' trip again," Dani sighed and shook her head.
"But it is," Patrick said in a drawn-out tone. "Besides, what's so great about your month, that could possibly top ours? You're the only one here born in December, whereas the two of us," he pulled me closer to him, "were born in September."
"I'm sorry. Dani, but two kinda beats - "
"No it doesn't. My birthday is in December and December has Christmas too so my month totally beats yours."
I shook my head. "This conversation or argument or whatever the hell it is - it's going nowhere fast and I'm just going to leave now," I said and yawned. "What time is it?"
"It's like, one thirty. You tired?" Pierre asked.
I yawned again, "Yeah."
"Well, I think this is a sign for you kids to head on to bed," Mrs. Bouvier said. "I'm going myself once I wrap up these last cookies. Thank you for the help, by the way." We nodded and helped to clean the table. I'm amazed Pierre's mother is even up at this hour. She's a lively one, that's for sure.
"All right then," Patrick said and stood up, grabbing my hand. "Let go out to the other room and rig up the pullout." I nodded and followed his lead. When in the room, Pierre helped put the pullout into position then headed up to his old room with Danielle shortly after I dove headfirst onto the mattress.
Close to two o'clock, Patrick sat next to me, "You really are tired, aren't you?"
I laughed, "Yeah, and I'm hungry. I should have remembered we never were allowed to eat the 'special' gingerbread men the night she made them. She always makes us wait."
"Hold that thought," Patrick said and grinned devilishly. He got up and walked out of the room as I sat up in my spot on the pullout. He came back a second later holding something but before I could tell what it was, he hit me with a pillow.
"Hey," I protested the attack and rubbed my eye. "Hmm, I'll be right back, I'm gonna take my contacts out." I stood up and grabbed my glasses before walking down the hall and into the bathroom. Emerging moments later and putting my contacts in my bag, I sat back down onto the pullout and looked at what Pat was holding: two of the gingerbread men.
"You said you were hungry. Here," he held out one, "you can have the one of me."
"How do you know it's you?" I asked and looked at the cookie I'd been handed. It really could be Pierre, Patrick, or me.
"Uhm... it's wearing my necklace. That's how you can tell."
I laughed, "So then who do you get to eat?"
"You, of course."
--