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A groggy brunet suddenly jolted upright upon hearing the seemingly shrill sound of the doorbell penetrating his eardrums. He groaned noisily, wanting nothing more than to continue lying in bed half-asleep, but the annoying rings persisted, provoking him to lazily roll off his bed, put on his fluffy pink slippers, and forcefully and unwillingly drag himself downstairs towards the source of his bane. He stopped in front of the door for a few moments to glare at it, not even reprimanding himself for having such intense resentment for an inanimate object, and begrudgingly opened the door.

Of course, he immediately regretted it when the a bunch of sweet-scented flowers were shoved into his face, practically suffocating him. He swatted the putrid plants away from him and redirected his dagger-like glares toward the beaming blond in front of him.

"Hey, beautiful," Remy said with a wink, either being unaffected by the fact that Timmy looked like he was trampled over by a million horses and a couple dozen sixteen-wheelers, then promptly thrown in front of a squealing hoard of pigs, or he just had a very unfunny sense of humor. Judging from the ghost of a smirk on his face, Timmy opted for the latter, making his hostile stare intensify.

"What do you want?" he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Je te veux," he said in the most suave tone ever, and even if Timmy had no clue what the boy just said, he couldn't help but feel his heart quicken just subtly enough that his horrid, cranky demeanor washed away into an alert and happy-to-see-his-boyfriend one. Remy, seemingly noticing the change in atmosphere, smiled softly and glided into the room, giving the brunet a peck on the cheek.

"Hm, I'm just here to visit my favorite boyfriend." He earned an eye-roll from Timmy, to which he responded with a short chuckle. "Oh, don't give me that, Turner. It's Valentine's Day, and I—"

"Don't even think about giving me anything," Timmy interrupted suddenly, his face looking stern. "You remember Christmas when you bought me a tank? Yeah…my parents weren't happy with that." Timmy eyed the blond, who looked down at him in obvious disappointment. "They said I wasn't old enough to drive one and grounded me."

"Uh, I promise I won't give you a tank again?" Remy tried to compromise, his crooked smile hopeful, but the indignant look that was given to him made him recoil slightly.

"No, it wasn't just the tank. Remember the yacht? And the exact, to-size replica of the Eiffel Tower in my backyard? Oh, and let's not forget the time you bought me a planet. I was chased down by aliens for weeks because your buying of that planet apparently made me king, and they wouldn't let anyone under eighteen…thousand years to govern them." Timmy sighed when Remy tried to give him the puppy dog look. "I'm sorry. I think you're being thoughtful Remy, but I don't need all this. All these extravagant gifts aren't why I'm with you."

"I just want to make you happy, is all," Remy said offhandedly, grabbing Timmy by the shoulders and looking straight into his bright blue eyes. "Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you, okay? Anything you want, I'm here to get it for you at the wave of a wand."

"Pft, you're not magic, Remy. Money can't buy you everything anyway," Timmy said. "At that, I don't want you spending so much money on me. I'm fine, really. I don't ne—"

"Is the money the problem, then?" Remy mused aloud, directed more to himself than Timmy; and before the latter would even a chance to interject to the idea, Remy's lips curled into a grin that signaled an ingenious epiphany. "Ah, of course! A commoner like yourself is used to cheap presents, huh? I have to start thinking smaller and more like a commoner!"

Remy continued to talk to himself as he walked himself out of Timmy's house. The brunet, dumbfounded by what just happened, decided to shrug of the weird events that had just transpired and trudged back upstairs to crawl back into bed, hoping that whatever Remy was concocting in his little head wouldn't turn into some chaotic event. Of course, considering it was Remy…

Timmy sighed, sitting up. "I should stop him," he said aloud, but the softness of his bed started to lull him back into enticing slumber, making him yawn and fall backwards. "Yeah, I'll stop him after five more…minutes of…sleep…"

. . .

A blue eye twitched incessantly as he was showered with cheap, little trinkets, a proud-looking and haughty blond smiling fervently in front of him.

"Well," he started, his green eyes sparkling with glee. "What do you think?"

"I think…I'm gonna suffocate, dude," Timmy mumbled angrily. He pushed his way out of the mountain of video games (of course, the new Crash Nebula video just so-happened to find its way to his hand) and magazines and other miscellaneous paraphernalia that Timmy honestly did like, but not when they're in a jumbled mass of items in the middle of his room, drowning him into a sea of paper cuts and plastic punches. Once he finally forced his way out, he redirected his attention to his boyfriend, who was smiling sheepishly at him.

"Seriously," Timmy deadpanned. "This is getting annoying. Real quick."

Remy looked slightly hurt, his mouth barely mumbling the words, "I just want you to be happy…"

"Well, just stop." The acidic tone in his words seemed foreign even to the brunet, but he just couldn't stop the words rolling out of his tongue. "You're being a really annoying jerk right now, you know that, right? I tell you to stop buying me stuff, but you never listen to me. I seriously don't even need all this stuff. If I need something, I can get it through my own means." Timmy looked pointedly at him, stance firm and eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not happy with any of this. This isn't what our relationship is based off of."

"I—" Remy pursed his lips, his mouth shivering as if there were words plummeting against his mouth but he used every muscle necessary to dam those words back. He looked abashed, maybe slightly frustrated and embarrassed, both expressions Timmy had never seen on Remy. The fact that Remy looked so vulnerable and so much like a child was astonishing, and Timmy couldn't help but openly stare at the flustered young man.

But then, the blond coughed, bringing Timmy back to reality. "I…um…" Remy looked to the side. "I guess I'll see you later, Turner…"

Without another word, he left Timmy's room with quickened pace, leaving Timmy with a mess of a room as well as a mess of a heart. When was the last time Remy called him Turner? Timmy hadn't heard Remy refer to him as simply his surname since they were fourteen, the start of the flower of their relationship. Five years was an awfully long time to be together with someone, especially at a young age, though they rarely fought…until now.

His chest ached from the guilt that was stabbing against his ribcage. Of course, he didn't agree with Remy sometimes, but Timmy did have to admit he came off just a little bit too harsh. Remy was, after all, just trying to make him happy, and considering he had been in a pretty foul mood all throughout the first half of February, Remy should have reason for concern. Though, were all these gifts really necessary?

I guess he just doesn't know how to express his love, Timmy thought solemnly. His parents always give him everything he wants, and he thinks of that as a way to show affection—the only way to show affection.

Timmy sighed. And of course, I pretty much rejected him just now, and of all days too.

With another melancholic sigh, the brunet stared at the items littering his floor,
but chose to ignore them in favor of thinking of his boyfriend. He then shrugged into his jacket and walked out of his house, running towards the Buxaplenty manor just a few blocks away.

. . .

"No"—and the giant door was suddenly slammed in Timmy's face, his nose receiving a nasty punch from said door. He rubbed his nose begrudgingly and was about to try talking to the stubborn blond again, but even Timmy knew after twenty-three attempts of talking to Remy and twenty-three looks of disdain and twenty-three blows to the nose that his current method of getting Remy to forgive him wasn't working. Timmy knew buying something for Remy would prove to be useless since he could buy practically anything, putting Timmy at a major disadvantage with apologies.

But then, an idea struck him. Handmade things were always a nice gesture and more meaningful than bought things, he remembered Wanda telling him once. Of course, the only problem now was what he should make the blond. Being raised in a high-status lifestyle would mean impressing the blond would be a difficult, maybe even impossible task.

Though, once he remembered a certain aspect of their earlier conversation in the morning, a plan started concocting in his mind, and a grin appeared on his face. This just has to work, he thought to himself. Remy won't be able to resist.

. . .

Remy heard the doorbell ring again, and he grunted angrily, both at the annoying noise and the butterflies in his stomach that were anticipating Timmy's presence. He was still made at the brunet, surely, but even then, he yearned to see him. He didn't like being mad at Timmy, but during this circumstance, he felt like he needed to be a little bit more stubborn than usual to teach Timmy a little lesson. Spitefulness and all that.

Putting down his tub of chocolate ice cream, Remy walked up to the door, readying his angry, I'm-going-to-yell-at-you face. Though, he was met with a surprise when he noticed there was a lack of Timmy at his doorstep. Instead, there was a letter on the floor, his name written on the white envelope in sloppy but recognizable text.

Curious, the blond picked it up and ripped the top of the envelope in one clean cut, finding a piece of paper inside with a badly drawn picture of what looked like him and Remy holding hands. Remy scoffed at how absolutely lame it looked, though was surprising a smile at how cute the picture was and promptly started reading the letter.

A few seconds thereafter, a small hint of curved lips appeared on his face as he hugged the letter gently in his fingers. "Hm, as eloquent as always. Heh…wait, my ferret!"

Crimson Chin is red

Crash Nebula is (partly) blue

I don't know French

But Remy… 'je te veux' too

(Now please forgive me because I can't think of another rhyme for this, but do know that I looked your French up and I really mean it when I said it. You know, I even learned my own French through research. So…j'adore, Remy. J'adore beaucoup. Toujours et pour toujours.)

Love, Timmy

P.S. I lied about the tank. I was riding it and accidentally ran over your ferret and felt guilty so I gave it to the Dinkelburgs. Sorry.

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A silly little Valentine's Day fic that's quite fast-paced, but still pretty cute. I have another idea for a Valentine's Day fic for this pairing that's much better than this, and it also involves a secret side pairing alongside the Remy/Timmy.