Title: For Someone Who Deserves Better
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Fallout 3
Setting: Ms. Palmer's flower shop, James' Apartment
Pairing: Butch DeLoria/Male Lone Wanderer
Characters: Butch DeLoria, Derek Segraves, Ms. Palmer, Jonas, James
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: K
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 600
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Fluff, Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Homophobic language, Bully/Bullied, AU - Modern AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Derek.
Summary: That arrangement was familiar, leaving Derek smiling like an idiot even in his sleep.
AN: So, this is for my buddy James. ouo He wanted to see me write some fluffy Butch/Derek, and I couldn't help it when I got this AU on a fanfic idea generator. ; u; I really liked this idea and I'm pretty happy with this. Hope you guys enjoy!
For Someone Who Deserves Better ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Derek Segraves was not the kind of guy that turned down helping people. When Ms. Palmer had asked him to watch her flower shop while she ran to the doctor for an appointment, catching him on his way to his father's lab, he could hardly refuse. Busying himself with flower arrangements that needed made and helping customers that came in or walked by, he took care of things he knew she'd need help with.
It was a bit of a shock to him, though, when one Butch DeLoria rolled up, parking his motorcycle on the curb and cutting the engine. Stepping out to greet him like any other customer, he smiled sweetly and gave a somewhat shy wave. It was all a big secret that he had the biggest crush on Butch, despite the fact that he had a habit of beating on him at school and picking on him and Amata.
"Hey, Butch. Welcome to Palmer's. Is there anything I can help you with?" He questioned eagerly, trying to keep his hands from nervously knocking together.
"Pfft, what are you doing here, Nerd-O? I didn't know you worked for old lady Palmer." Surprise was evident in those dark eyes, but his smirk was self-confident as usual. "A pansy to take care of the daisies, I guess. But yeah, I need a dozen roses." Glancing at his hand, he squinted at the writing on his hand, "Yellow. And uh, some Lily of the Valley." A light blush rose over his cheeks, but Derek didn't figure it was anything worth prying into.
"You've got it, Butch." He offered with that same enamoured smile, quickly moving to get the flowers ready and prepared for the other's bouquet. Making sure to take the time to make it good, he interspersed the lilies with the roses, organizing them in a way that was appealing, before passing it over.
"Yeah, thanks." He murmured, handing over thirty bucks, "Keep the change." With that, he was gone once more, down the street on foot. Whoever he was delivering them to must have lived close by. Derek almost envied the lucky girl, but he wouldn't let himself be bitter. She was lucky to have such a devoted boyfriend.
It wasn't until late that Derek finally managed to get home, walking up the stairs to the little apartment he shared with his father and Jonas. He stretched as he made his way to the third floor, rubbing the back of his neck to try and rid it of the kinks there. Tiredly, he fished his key out of his pocket, eyes shut as he slotted it into the keyhole and turned it. He heard plastic shifting as he opened the door, peering down and seeing something that made him gasp.
Yellow roses and Lily of the Valley lay on the floor before the door, in the same way he'd organized them. Picking them up, he smiled a little, taking the hastily made card and looking at Butch's near-chicken scratch.
For someone who deserves better. - Sorry. You know who.
With a smile on his face that nearly split it in half, he stumbled into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. His father raised a brow at him over his newspaper, only to smile slightly when he saw the look on his son's face. Watching as the eighteen year old put the flowers in water and took them to his room, he only shook his head.
That night, Derek slept better than he had in a long time, the flowers watching over him on his nightstand.
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