daffodils.
the sun’s always shining when i’m with you

It’s the soft tinkling of the chimes at the door that makes Myungsoo look up, his hands full of brilliant yellow blossoms. The sun’s shining in, lengthening rays that taper off into long shadows; and it’s under the strange contrast of fading sunlight and fluorescent lamps that Myungsoo sees him for the first time.

“May I help you?” It’s a question he asks everyone who comes in, but when the man looks back at him, he breaks out into a smile so bright that Myungsoo’s glad he said it.

“Hi,” the man says. “I’m looking to buy some flowers.”

They’re for his mother, it turns out. “It’s not any special event,” he replies with a laugh when Myungsoo asks him. “I just want to buy her flowers.” It’s strangely charming, so Myungsoo puts the daffodils in the window display and walks around the store with him while he tries to puzzle out what his mother will like. Sungjong’s minding the counter, casting Myungsoo the occasional amused glance while they trail around the displays.

“Do you want a mixed bouquet?” Myungsoo offers when he sees the man’s eyes lingering indecisively. The way he lights up at the prospect is almost cute. “I can make it up for you right now if you’ll choose the flowers.”

“If you’ll help me decide what flowers to include, yes,” the man answers happily, and that seals it.

Myungsoo leaves the other customers to Sungjong while he starts working on the bouquet. The man vetoes roses, but agrees to carnations—he seems interested when Myungsoo tells him their significance, and Myungsoo ends up telling him what every flower he puts into the bouquet means. Irises for affection and warmth, and calla lilies for beauty; Myungsoo suggests hydrangea, to signify gratitude for understanding, and the man loves the idea. He watches while Myungsoo arranges the flowers and ties off the bouquet with a purple ribbon, for a perfect finish. “Do you want to include a note?” he asks. “Or a tag with your name?”

“I guess I will,” the man says thoughtfully. “I’ll be giving them to her myself, but it’ll be a nice touch. What should I say?”

“Something simple should be enough.” Myungsoo thinks for a moment, tapping the pen on the counter. “How about ‘thank you for being here for me’?”

The man looks up in surprise, the same bright smile suffusing his face. “That’s perfect.” He takes the pen that Myungsoo offers to him, writing out the short message before signing his name. Myungsoo glances at the tag when he attaches it to the bouquet.

Thank you for being here for me. I love you. – Sungyeol

Sungyeol, he repeats to himself while Sungjong rings up the flowers. He smiles at Sungyeol when he hands the bouquet to him, their fingers just barely brushing. “Thank you for visiting, Sungyeol-sshi. I hope your mother likes the flowers.”

“I’m sure she will,” Sungyeol answers with a grin. “Thanks for helping me.”

Myungsoo watches Sungyeol walk out, the chimes sounding when the door close behind him. The daffodils in the window display nod slightly, the setting sun catching on their petals and making them seem almost orange. “Can I get off shift early, hyung?” he hears Sungjong ask from behind him. “Howon wants to go out to dinner. I’ll come in early tomorrow to make up.”

“Sure,” he answers absently, staring out of the glass.

He wonders if he’ll see Sungyeol again.

plumeria.
new beginnings

Myungsoo’s labouring over the inventory lists when Sungjong pokes his head in the backroom. “The new shipment’s in,” he announces, and Myungsoo tries not to whimper at the thought of even more inventory to catalogue. If he’d known running the shop would be so much work… well, it still wouldn’t have stopped him from taking over, but at least he would have been better prepared. “The frangipanis. Where should they go?”

“In the back, they’re for a bouquet. Wait, I’ll take them,” Myungsoo cuts in quickly, desperate for any reason to get out of the backroom, even if only for a few minutes. “Take over here for a little while? Please.” He probably sounds pitiful enough to persuade Sungjong, who rolls his eyes but takes the lists from him.

“Okay, hyung. Don’t take too long.”

Myungsoo escapes thankfully, going up front where he can see the crate placed behind the counter. Waving to Soojung, he stalls for a few extra seconds by walking around to the window displays and fussing over them. They already look good, but he doesn’t want to go back to the backroom yet.

He looks up immediately when someone enters, jumping on the chance to distract himself—but he’s caught a little off-guard when he recognises the customer. “Sungyeol-sshi?” he asks before he can stop himself, regretting it a little when he realises it probably sounds too forward. Sungyeol glances over at the sound of his name, and Myungsoo’s relieved to see him break out into a familiar smile.

“You remember me! It’s nice to see you again—I was hoping I would. I never got your name last time. You already know mine, but just to officially introduce myself, I’m Lee Sungyeol.”

Myungsoo takes the offered hand, returning the smile. “Kim Myungsoo. I’m here most of the time, so if you’re looking for me I’m easy to find. Did your mother like the flowers?”

“She loved them!” Sungyeol’s answer is so enthusiastic that Myungsoo laughs a little, ducking his head. “It’s why I came back, actually. I wanted to thank you for your help—I could never have picked all those flowers by myself. I told my mother what they all meant, and she said knowing that made it even more special. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sungyeol looks so happy that Myungsoo almost feels embarrassed. “It’s fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “I’m happy I could help.”

“You did more than help, really. You made my mom really happy.” Sungyeol’s gaze strays briefly, wandering over the flower displays. “You really have a lot of flowers here, though. It’s kind of amazing.”

“Well, we are a flower shop,” Myungsoo answers with a faint smile.

“But still, it’s a lot of flowers. You work with so many kinds—do you have a favourite?”

Myungsoo’s caught off-guard by the question, but he tries to think it over. “I’m not really sure,” he says hesitantly. “Like you said, I work with a lot of flowers. But I guess… forget-me-nots?”

“Great! Do you have any for sale?”

Myungsoo blinks at Sungyeol, bemused. “Yes? Just a few, because they’re not usually the sort of flower I keep in stock, but yes.”

“Even better. I’ll buy them all, then.”

Myungsoo gapes at Sungyeol, who just grins at him. “What? I want to thank you in some way, and I figured you had to like flowers. And I’m not wrong, am I?”

“They’re for me?” Myungsoo repeats, completely taken aback. Sungyeol nods empathically, then walks towards the displays. “Um—I really appreciate it, but you really don’t need to. I mean, I’m flattered, but…”

“So which are the forget-me-nots?” Sungyeol asks in interest, and Myungsoo wonders if he even heard him at all. Sighing, he points them out for Sungyeol, who immediately asks him to get them out for him while blithely ignoring his protests. In the end, he relents, watching helplessly as Soojung rings up his purchase and winks at him.

“Could I write a note?” Sungyeol requests, and Myungsoo would say something again if he wasn’t completely sure that Sungyeol wouldn’t take any notice of him. He just watches Sungyeol scrawl out the note before turning around, presenting the flowers to Myungsoo with a flourish. Myungsoo takes them, sure that his cheeks are flushed red. The forget-me-nots are a delicate blue, his favourite variety. Myungsoo’s glad Sungyeol doesn’t ask what they mean, though. He’s already blushing hard enough as it is.

“Thank you,” he finally says, for lack of any other words. Glancing down, he checks the tag: Thank you! :) – Sungyeol. Smiling in spite of himself, Myungsoo looks up a little shyly. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“But I wanted to,” Sungyeol answers cheerfully. He checks his watch, scrunching his nose up in distaste. “Damn, my lunch break’s almost over. It’s fine if I come by tomorrow, right? Everything you told me the other day—about the flowers, I mean—was really interesting, so if you don’t mind, I really want to know more. Do you mind?”

Right now, standing here with a handful of forget-me-nots, Myungsoo can’t think of anything much more pleasant to do with his time. “Of course I don’t,” he says, and Sungyeol’s smile only affirms that further.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, Myungsoo-sshi.”

Myungsoo waves back at him when he leaves, the door closing with a soft chime behind him. Soojung laughs lightly from where she’s leaning forward on the counter, regarding him with amusement. “You’re blushing, oppa.”

Myungsoo cringes, reaching up a hand to touch his heated cheeks. Well, he can’t help it—it’s not every day that guys with ridiculously gorgeous smiles waltz in and buy him flowers. “That was sweet of him, though,” Soojung continues, looking at Myungsoo thoughtfully. “You know, oppa, I think—”

“Hyung! Where are the frangipanis?”

Myungsoo’s almost glad to be interrupted, although the reminder of what he hasn’t done makes him feel a little apologetic. “Sorry, Sungjong-ah!” he calls back, walking up to the counter. “Take care of these for me, please?” he asks Soojung, handing her the forget-me-nots. “I still need to catalogue inventory. And I’ll take the frangipanis.”

“Sure. Don’t worry about it.” Myungsoo smiles briefly at her, reaching down to pick up the crate.

“Thanks for helping me,” Myungsoo tells Sungjong when he goes back into the backroom, setting the crate down carefully. “And sorry for taking so long. I got distracted by a customer.”

Sungjong raises an eyebrow, looking at Myungsoo. “A customer,” he echoes. “Okay.”

Myungsoo doesn’t meet his eyes, knowing that the moment he heads back up front Soojung will be regaling him with a likely embellished tale of Sungyeol’s visit. He just opens up the crate, the light, yellow-white blossoms smiling up at him.

Frangipanis—plumeria. It seems about fitting.

pansies.
pleasant thoughts

Myungsoo takes the forget-me-nots upstairs to his bedroom later, appropriating a nicely-sized vase for them. He spends far too long staring at them before he relents, opening his desk drawer and removing the box at the very back.

He takes out his scrapbook, turning over the pages. The first half is mainly photos and notes, pictures of his friends and co-workers and all the places he’s been. Ignoring them for now, he turns carefully to the back instead, gently leafing through the pages. He doesn’t often press flowers, but he’s still gathered quite a collection over the years. The last flower he pressed was a pansy—Sungjong gave it to him not long after he took over, when the death of his mother was still a little too fresh. I know it’s going to be hard, but think pleasant thoughts, okay? It was an unusual choice, compared to the usual bereavement flowers, but the gesture had been sweet. Myungsoo had wanted to remember it.

While that memory’s faintly bittersweet, though, this one is just warming. Myungsoo smiles when he gently gathers up the forget-me-nots, removing most of the stalks. He has a thick piece of parchment paper laid over the back pages of his scrapbook, and he places the blossoms there gently, smoothing out some of the petals. Then he closes the book and replaces it in the box, placing it in the back of his drawer again.

In a few days he’ll take them out and put them in the right pages, where he can keep them along with his other memories. Myungsoo thinks he won’t want to forget these flowers.

yellow tulips.
there’s sunshine in your smile

Sungyeol keeps his promise. He’s back the next day, all smiles as usual, and wanting to hear seemingly everything about flowers. He stays as long as his lunch break lasts, and every time Myungsoo’s between customers, he ends up showing Sungyeol another flower and telling him what it means. Sungyeol leaves at the end of the hour, but only after extracting a promise from Myungsoo that he can come back after he’s done with work.

He drops by again after five-thirty, and while there aren’t many customers, Myungsoo’s getting a head-start on one of their larger orders. Even though he’s working in the backroom, Sungyeol seems content to sit by and watch Myungsoo make bouquets and wreaths and garlands. “You’re really good at this,” Sungyeol says thoughtfully, staring at Myungsoo’s hands. It’s not the first time he’s gotten comments like that, but for some reason the words makes him blush, and he glances away before Sungyeol can catch his eye.

“Not really. I just have a lot of practice.” A lot of other people have praised his work in far more detail, telling him that he has talent and patience, deft fingers and a knack for the craft that’s hard to find. But none of that compares to the way Sungyeol smiles and gently brushes his fingers against the newly-made wreath in an almost reverent way, the admiration clear in his eyes.

“That’s not just it. You really know what to do with flowers. It’s like magic, watching you make these. There’ll be all these different kinds of flowers, and somehow you’ll make them look good together just by arranging them. It’s incredible.” Sungyeol turns to one of the bouquets Myungsoo just made—a neat, simplistic design, but Sungyeol seems captivated by it nonetheless. “So what are these flowers?” he asks, touching one of the buds lightly. Myungsoo pauses in his work, glancing at the flowers before turning to Sungyeol, their eyes meeting head-on.

“Yellow tulips,” he answers. Sungyeol looks at him expectantly, not bothering to prompt him. Myungsoo doesn’t break their gaze, although he’s sure his cheeks are burning. “There’s sunshine in your smile.”

Sungyeol grins, and Myungsoo can feel his heart starting to race in his chest. “That’s sweet.” He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I think I still have a lot of other questions. Maybe I could come by again tomorrow?”

Myungsoo’s not sure he could ever say no to Sungyeol in the face of that smile, but he doesn’t want to anyway. He’s not sure he ever will.

pink camellias.
longing for you

Before long, Sungyeol’s a regular. He comes by almost every weekday, usually twice—for a short while during lunch, and then after he gets off work. He works in one of the offices nearby, Myungsoo finds out; he’s an in-house PR consultant for one of the firms there. Myungsoo learns a lot more about Sungyeol over time, from his birthday to where he lives to how he likes his steaks to what he thinks of professional basketball. It gets to be such that even Myungsoo’s temp, Hyeri, ends up knowing an extraordinary amount about Sungyeol although she only stays for two weeks. “He practically lives here,” Sungjong points out. “It’s really not that strange.”

Myungsoo has to admit that Sungjong’s not far wrong. After a while Sungyeol started coming by on weekends too, planting himself down in the backroom with Myungsoo while he frantically works to fill orders. Sungyeol teases him when he whines about having to take inventory and asks him about every flower in his shop and then some. Neither Sungjong nor Soojung bother to hide what they think of it, and Sungjong is ever exasperated when Myungsoo insists they’re not dating (because Sungyeol hasn’t said anything and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up).

“Hyung,” Sungjong tells him patiently, “he faithfully comes by every day to see you even though there’s absolutely no other reason for him to be here. He’s polite to Soojung and me, but he only ever asks about you. Even if you’re not dating, trust me, he’s interested. Just ask him out.”

But truthfully, although it pains Myungsoo to admit it, he doesn’t dare to. Myungsoo wants to think that Sungyeol likes him, but Sungyeol’s never expressed any interest in speaking outside of the shop. Sungjong tries to persuade him that it’s because Sungyeol’s waiting for him to make the first move, but Myungsoo just can’t be sure.

The weeks end up dragging into months. Spring’s on the verge of turning into summer, and Myungsoo still hasn’t managed to summon the guts to say a word. He thinks of it—more than once, in fact—but every time he looks at Sungyeol, the words seem to end up stuck in his throat. So he just carries on with his work and settles into a comfortable routine with Sungyeol, quietly keeping his feelings to himself.

Soojung sits down next to him one day, shortly after Sungyeol leaves to go back to work. Myungsoo tries to focus on the bouquet he’s making, but Soojung doesn’t mince words, cutting straight to the chase. “You’re being an idiot, oppa.”

Myungsoo cringes at the straightforward way Soojung puts it, biting the inside of his cheek. Before he can figure out anything to say in reply, Soojung starts talking again in the same frank tone. “Just tell him already. If you take too long, he’s going to get tired of waiting for you. Do you even notice that every time he tries to ask you something about yourself, you either start stammering or try to change the topic? He probably thinks you’re terrified of him. Or that you’re really, really not interested, because you’re rejecting every single advance. Do something to change that.”

Myungsoo sighs, looking away from Soojung’s steady gaze. It’s true that he’s not the most eloquent conversationalist—he leaves most of the talking up to Sungyeol, and he thinks he can’t blame himself too much for wanting to know more about him. Sungyeol’s more than just an interesting person. He’s sweet and funny, if sometimes a little too hard on himself, but he always, always tries to make Myungsoo smile. Still, he has to admit that Soojung’s right. It’s just that Myungsoo feels boring and bland next to Sungyeol in all his enthusiasm and vigour. He’s never sure what to say, so most of the time he ends up saying nothing at all.

“How do I do that?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but Soojung obviously hears him from the way she sighs, looking at him in helpless exasperation.

“The way you do best, oppa. With flowers.”

Myungsoo stares down at the bouquet he’s making, a mix of pale pink camellias and roses. It’s to be delivered, and he’s read the accompanying note: please give me a chance. It’s just a coincidence, he knows, but maybe he should take it as a sign.

“So,” Soojung goes on, looking at him directly, “can I go back outside and tell Sungjong you’ll be fine and won’t break your own heart through sheer mishandling?”

Myungsoo is fairly sure that that’s a direct quote, but he can’t really be angry with Sungjong. He’s lucky to have people who care so much about him, he knows, even when they meddle with his lovelife. He knows they mean well. “Go ahead,” he answers with a faint smile, turning his attention back to the bouquet.

He still has some orders to get through, but after that… he’ll thank Sungjong and Soojung, and start working on his new idea.

evening stock.
you’re always beautiful to me

Myungsoo ends up spending most of the night and a good part of the next day fussing over his creation, though Sungjong and Soojung pick up his slack remarkably well. Sungjong outright says that he’s just glad Myungsoo’s finally doing something instead of hopelessly pining, and Soojung winks at him. He’s never spent so much effort on an arrangement before, continually second-guessing his choices and then trying to reassure himself that he’s planned everything through. Sungyeol’s confused when Myungsoo shuts him out of the backroom during lunch hour on the preface of work, but he thankfully doesn’t ask too many questions and Myungsoo makes him promise that he’ll be here as usual after work.

Sungyeol ends up running a little late, and Sungjong looks torn between amusement and annoyance at how nervously distracted Myungsoo is. Despite how many times he’s told to calm down, though, Myungsoo is very aware that he can’t. Not when he’s about to make a move more forward than anything else he’s ever done in his life.

He jerks up when he hears the chimes at the door, relief and panic flooding him simultaneously when he sees it’s Sungyeol. Sungyeol grins at him, waving to Sungjong when he passes him and walks up to Myungsoo. “Hey. Finished that urgent work from this afternoon? What was the big secret about it? Is there something I should know about you or your business?” His tone is teasing, but Myungsoo’s anxiety is starting to eat away at his gut. It’s only the extremely pointed and meaningful look that Sungjong shoots him from behind Sungyeol’s shoulder that pushes him into action, finally looking up to meet Sungyeol’s eyes.

“Um,” he says finally. “Yes, actually. Could you… come into the backroom with me for a while?”

He sounds so awkward to his own ears that he wants to die, but Sungyeol doesn’t seem to mind. “So you’re letting me in on it? Great! Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone if it’s anything shady. Probably, anyway. Lead the way.” Even though he says that, Sungyeol starts walking towards the backroom without being prompted. Sending a quick thankful glance to Sungjong and getting an encouraging smile in return, Myungsoo hurries after Sungyeol, stepping ahead and opening the door to the backroom, closing it behind them.

The backroom’s dimly-lit as always, for the sake of the flowers. Myungsoo’s used to it, and he can work as easily in the half-light as in other conditions. But for some reason the dim lighting makes his pulse pound a little faster today, in fear and anticipation of what he’s going to do. Sungyeol’s looking at him expectantly, and Myungsoo takes a deep breath, worrying at his lip briefly before he speaks. “I have something for you.”

He sees the surprise in Sungyeol’s eyes, but before he can react, Myungsoo ducks under his work desk, carefully taking out the bouquet he has hidden there. Sungyeol’s eyes widen when Myungsoo holds it out to him, blushing so hard he’s sure it’s obvious even under the muted lights.

“Myungsoo?” Sungyeol’s voice is a little shaky, and Myungsoo tries to breathe through his nervousness. His heart’s pounding so fast he feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. “Is this…?”

“It’s for you.” It’s honestly all Myungsoo can do to go on looking Sungyeol in the eye instead of staring at his feet, but he wants Sungyeol to know he means it. “It’s… it’s how I feel. About you.”

In the beat of silence that follows, Myungsoo’s hyperaware of the sound of their breaths—his own fast and uneven, Sungyeol’s faint and hesitant. But then he hears soft rustling and feels fingers closing around his, and he realises Sungyeol’s smiling. It’s not his usual smile, bright and sweet and b with vibrant energy; it’s more understated, but no less beautiful, and it makes Myungsoo want to smile back. So he does.

“Myungsoo.” Sungyeol’s voice is soft, so soft, but Myungsoo’s hanging on to his every word. “I’m not dreaming, right? This is really happening?” He laughs lightly, looking down at the bouquet with bright eyes. “I thought it was just me. I was starting to think you’d never feel the same.”

So Soojung had been right. Mentally cursing at himself, Myungsoo takes a bold step forward, his hands tightening slightly around the flowers. “I’ve felt like this since the day we met.” His hands are trembling, and he’s sure Sungyeol can feel it, but he goes on anyway. “I was just… scared, and stupid, and I didn’t know if you’d want this. But I should have done something sooner. I’m sorry—”

“Shh.” Sungyeol gently pries Myungsoo’s hands away from the bouquet, holding it with one hand and lacing the fingers of the other with Myungsoo’s. “Don’t apologise. This is…” Sungyeol laughs again, and Myungsoo feels hope stirring in his heart. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Myungsoo’s barely breathing when Sungyeol leans down, and he feels lips brush against his. It takes him a second before he responds, and he has no idea what he’s doing but he does know that this is the best thing he’s ever felt in his life. Sungyeol’s smiling again when he draws back, looking closely at the bouquet now. Myungsoo watches him with just a little remaining anxiety, although the rest of him is still dazed from the unmistakable acceptance.

He’d chosen the flowers as carefully as he could to convey his message. Daffodils, yellow tulips, plumeria and white violets—he added in some evening stock for a flair of colour, the purple a perfect complement to the yellows and whites, and it was an exact match for his thoughts of Sungyeol. And finally, just a few white forget-me-nots, the tiny flowers dwarfed by the larger, more brilliant blossoms, but completing the bouquet perfectly.

Sungyeol had asked about what practically every flower in the bouquet had meant, and he still remembers. Myungsoo can see it in the way he looked at them, touching them lightly and smiling every now and then, a slight blush dusting his cheeks when he sees the evening stock. He finally tears his eyes away, looking back at Myungsoo. “No note?” he asks, semi-teasingly. Myungsoo shakes his head, taking another step forward and reaching up to touch Sungyeol’s cheek lightly. When he’s met with no resistance, he cups the side of Sungyeol’s face, smiling.

“No,” he replies softly. “It’s all in the flowers.”

Sungyeol’s smile is almost blinding, and Myungsoo’s taken aback when Sungyeol throws his arms around him, the bouquet behind his back, and leans down to kiss him soundly. He feels a flower tickling at his neck, slipping free of the bouquet and falling between them.

Myungsoo glances down when they part and sees that it’s a single white violet, but doesn’t have more than another second to think about it before Sungyeol’s kissing him again, and he’s swept up in warmth and sunshine.

white violets.
let’s take a chance

Myungsoo helps Sungyeol put the flowers in water later that night, and barely manages to hide his amusement at the way Sungyeol keeps admiring them over his shoulder. They’re curled up in Myungsoo’s bed, the vase of flowers temporarily on Myungsoo’s nightstand until Sungyeol can bring them back to his own place tomorrow. “You can stop looking at the flowers now,” Myungsoo mumbles into Sungyeol’s chest, idly drawing patterns on his stomach. “I have more to show you.”

“You do?” Sungyeol asks, perking up, and Myungsoo grins.

“Yeah, I do.”

When Sungyeol stops kissing him long enough for them to leave the bed, Myungsoo brings Sungyeol to his desk, removing the box in the back. Sungyeol hovers over his shoulder while Myungsoo flips his scrapbook over, starting from the end and going backwards through the pages. Finding what he’s looking for, he gestures Sungyeol closer, holding the scrapbook out to him.

Sungyeol peers down at the papery blue petals nestled between the pages, held in place by a pocket of wax paper. “Are those forget-me-nots?” At Myungsoo’s nod, Sungyeol raises his eyebrow, bringing his face closer to the paper to stare at the dried flowers. Then he looks up at Myungsoo, and Myungsoo doesn’t need to do anything more than smile for his answer to be obvious. Sungyeol shakes his head in mild disbelief, but he leans over to press a kiss to Myungsoo’s temple right afterwards, his lips lingering for a second. “I can’t believe it. You kept them.”

“They meant a lot to me,” Myungsoo says softly, ducking his head slightly but glancing up at Sungyeol. Sungyeol slides an arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Thank you.” He reaches over to interlace their fingers, smoothing his thumb over the page where the forget-me-nots are kept. “They do to me, too.” He smiles faintly, glancing over at Myungsoo. “Tell me what they mean again?”

Myungsoo doesn’t bother hiding his smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss on Sungyeol’s lips. “Of course.”

forget-me-nots.
good memories and true love