Warren and Gabriel: Manners

[x-velocidad.livejournal.com]

Warren shows up to the end-of-summer party with a rather unique host gift for Gabriel.

It was never appropriate to attend a social function without a gift. Even if the host was someone he couldn't stand, it just wouldn't do. Plus, he'd been dying to get Gabriel something completely useless since his Christmas gift was returned.

"Gabriel," Warren announced. "Thank you for the invite. Here, a small token of my affection."

"You shouldn't have," Gabriel said, his eyebrows raised as he bent to place his drink on the ground. For the briefest of seconds, he wondered if Warren — thoughtless, selfish Warren — had remembered it was his birthday. Then he realized who he was thinking about.

"Emily Post strikes again, huh?" Never one for manners, Gabriel took the box and summarily removed the wrapping paper. Using his powers, he made quick work of the package, opening it to find—

Well, to find...

"Huh," Gabriel said, more perplexed than he'd ever recalled being. In his hands (well, in the box in his hands), he held a marble slab. He stared at it. "What am I looking at here?" He looked up at Warren, unable to help looking puzzled even though he knew this had to be a trap. Then he looked back down at the gift. "And why is my name carved into it?"

"It's a cheese platter," Warren said in an incredulous tone of voice, even though he knew full well that Gabriel would be confused. "Italian marble, hand carved. It'll keep your cheeses and fruits at the perfect temperature while hosting.". He motioned to Gabriel to flip it over. "The piece de resistance is on the other side.

"For all the hosting I'm—" As soon as he'd flipped the platter over, Gabriel's sarcastic remark left him. On the other side of the marble, etched into the stone, was his face. His fucking face. Warren had paid someone to etch his face into Italian marble.

"What the actual fuck?" Gabriel looked up at him, still dumbfounded. "How — this is my fucking face. I mean, the fuck?"

The grin was beyond genuine. "A remarkable likeness, isn't it? I have to say, I was so impressed. I gave the man a hefty tip."

"I don't even — I mean, where did you get this picture, and..." He eyed Warren suspiciously. "Where did you even get this?"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Warren said, faking innocence in his eyes. "After all, we were all young once and made questionable social media decisions. Except me, of course. I pay people to cultivate my image."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but he was still staring at the marble. He wasn't entirely sure he remembered ever looking this high before. "Well," he finally said slowly, "I'm not sure I get 100% of the joke here, but thanks, I guess." He looked up at Warren, his expression still cautious.

Warren had to admit: he quite enjoyed the unsteady look in Gabriel's eyes. "No joke. Just a gift." He turned as if to walk away, before pivoting suddenly. "Oh, and happy birthday. Your youth has been immortalized."

In that moment, the other shoe dropped. Gabriel was quiet as he watched the other man walk away, still not entirely sure how to react — which he knew would make Warren all the more pleased, which made him all the more mad. Unsure what else to do, he moved to place the box with the gift on a nearby table and went in search of a fresh drink.