blood flowers

The dusk breeze swings in and pulls along the tulip curls to flitter, backdrop of aching blue sliced up into grids through the window sill. Youngjae taps his pen against his textbook and reclines back into his chair, glancing around his cramped studio apartment.

On his off days, the world seems a little more quiet than usual and he's reminded he's but one in billions. He counts the minutes per mile away from Jisook and winds back nine hours to the late morning. Jisook should be heading for lunch now, since it's a Tuesday. He considers calling her but decides against it, prodding at the chunk of cutting terms into his paper.

He wonders what's going on in the store right now. Hanbin and Jiwon are probably making jokes while Daehyun's reminded painfully of how out of touch he is with the young generation.

The low grumble persists in the recesses of his stomach and he curses under his breath, digging into his seaweed stash. He forgot to stock up on snacks so now, he's left with just strips of overly seasoned seaweed for dinner. He had pushed himself to finish this chapter before he went out for dinner but he overestimated himself.

Youngjae releases a weary sigh and raises his head, admiring the yellow tulips still going strong against the window. He thumbs the incandescent petals, face contorting slightly upon remembering Daehyun's third batch of Hanahaki flowers.

Daehyun never explicitly mentioned the second girl who he experimentally fell in love with but he grew yellow tulips for her, spluttering out sunny curls with such a pained, helpless look. Youngjae remembers because Daehyun's first two Hanahaki flowers were daffodils, which generally indicated he was in love with the same person—Sunhwa.

Hopelessly in love, Youngjae muses, gently mapping out the smooth edge to the tulips. It's quite tragic, now that he thinks about it.

A sharp ring has Youngjae whipping his head towards the door in surprise. He has a good idea to who it is. A smile blooms over his lips and he gleefully scampers to the door, unlatching it and peeking through the gap.

Daehyun is wearing a charcoal black mask, leaning his weight on one leg as he lazily dangles a plastic bag from his index finger. He tugs down his mask and lets out a bare sigh, lifting the bag.

"You gonna let me in?" He drawls nonchalantly, offering the slightest of smiles with one end of his lips curling. Youngjae flings the door open and lugs Daehyun into a half-hug, grinning as though he's won the lottery. Daehyun chuckles and hands him the box.

"I love you," Youngjae wheezes with a meek squeal, deeply inhaling the scent of barbecued chicken and uncapping the box. He takes in another deranged whiff and lewdly moans, Daehyun grimacing and throwing him a look of askance.

"Don't take both," Daehyun warns jokingly, grabbing the other box out of the bag. He settles down on the ground and leans against the bed, ripping apart his chopsticks. 

Youngjae crawls over and latches his arms around Daehyun's neck, letting out a few mewls with his blinding grin still donning his chubby cheeks. "Thank you, Daehyunie. You're my hero. I lahve you."

"Gross. Stop acting cute," Daehyun groans, prying the clingy boy off of him. After his first target, Youngjae immediately dives for his food, stuffing his mouth with rice.

"I knew you didn't eat. You're always like this whenever your tests come around." Daehyun picks up a few slices of mushroom and drops it into Youngjae's box, returning to gorging down his food.

"Shouldn't you be praising me for being so hardworking? I'm skipping dinner for my grades," Youngjae muffles through bites, relishing in the warmth down his stomach.

"Getting bad grades doesn't mean it's the end of the world," Daehyun drawls, tapping his chopsticks against his box. He parts his lips to go off on his usual preachy ramble but Youngjae speedily halts him, prodding a piece of smoked chicken into his mouth.

"I know, I know, Mr. Straight-As who gave up college for flowers," Youngjae snorts, earning himself a glare from Daehyun. "Hey, I'll treat you to something good in return. Thanks for coming all the way over."

He checks the time and comments through munches, "Your shift isn't even over yet. Did you leave early for me?" Youngjae glances over with doe eyes, a teasing smile worn over his lips. Daehyun stares back for a short moment, blinking.

He turns away with a scoff. Wolfing down his food, he incoherently spouts, "No need to pay me back. You're poor enough as a college kid. And for the record, the only reason why I came over was because Jiwon called in sick, so it was just me and Hanbin in the shop."

Daehyun snivels. "You know how I am with Hanbin. I told him to close up the shop and had some extra time, so I popped by."

"Tch, and here I thought I meant so much to you," Youngjae snorts, his lips to rid the sauce splattered over his mouth. "And you really need to stop being so awkward around him. He's your employee, for god's sake."

"Hey, I'm awkward because he's awkward," Daehyun protests, raising his voice slightly. "I get along fine with Jiwon. Hanbin and I just don't have common topics."

"You guys are so similar yet you guys are the most awkward together," Youngjae guffaws. "How about talking about how big your noses are? That's a common topic."

Daehyun pushes Youngjae's head as the boy yelps, doubling over in laughter. "If you don't want to get fired, you better shut up," Daehyun warns, though a hint of laughter shades his wrinkled cheeks. "How are we similar, anyway?"

"Well, you're both quiet and hardworking. Very serious unless you're with your friends. And you two are socially awkward," Youngjae provides, dodging Daehyun's next blow.

Daehyun narrows his eyes at him as Youngjae feigns innocence, batting his lashes rapidly. Daehyun concedes with a sigh before grabbing the tissue out from the bag, grasping Youngjae's jaw as the boy squeaks. He roughly wipes the boy's lips and chucks the dirty tissue right into his face.

"Seriously, without your girlfriend here, you really have no idea how to take care of yourself." Daehyun goes back to slouching over his food, chewing noisily.

Youngjae flicks aside the tissue and beams, "You're my substitute girlfriend."

"More like you're the girlfriend," Daehyun returns with a uncouth snort, twisting around and blindly grabbing for the remote. Youngjae purposely rests his head on Daehyun's shoulder, snuggling against the other man.

"True. I can totally live with that, by the way. You can be my sugar daddy," Youngjae chimes, only to get shoved off by Daehyun. Daehyun puts on a random variety show and they simmer into a lengthy silence, Daehyun's boorish crunching resounding within the walls.

"You're not rushing this sem?" Daehyun asks offhandedly, finishing up the last of his food and placing the box aside. "Nah. I'm not as hardworking as Jisook," Youngjae supplies, popping his last chicken slice into Daehyun's mouth and stacking up their boxes.

"She's amazing, huh? A med scholarship student," Daehyun muses, helping Youngjae to clean up their rubbish.

"Don't hit on my girlfriend, old man." Youngjae yells when Daehyun tugs at his ankle, nearly making him fall. He scurries over to the kitchen before Daehyun can do anymore damage, pouring some coke for them both.

He pads back to the living room and hands Daehyun the mug. Just as Daehyun reaches out for it, he abruptly winces, clearing his throat and patting on his chest.

Youngjae parts his lips and incredulously asks, "Oh my god, you're really growing for her?"

Daehyun shrugs. Youngjae mutters under his breath and states brashly, "She's so gross. You're gonna grow something nasty in your lungs."

"You've only met Jessica twice," Daehyun chuckles, swiping the cup as Youngjae settles back down.

"I've seen her enough to know what kind of person she is." Youngjae clicks his tongue with a deep frown. "Wait, your eighth date was today, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. She's not that bad once you get to know her. She's just... practical, I guess. Blunt," Daehyun surmises. "True businesswoman."

"You mean she's got no heart," Youngjae rebounds unapologetically. Daehyun gazes at him with an amused laugh trickling from his lips, patting the boy's head. "You're practical too," he muses with a smile.

Youngjae promptly rolls his eyes. "There's a difference. I'm smart, while she is just rude as hell." He slurps at his drink with an oddly curious frown. "Hey, maybe you'll grow a mini Rafflesia this time."

"Screw off," Daehyun scoffs, though a glimpse of genuine worry flickers in his irises. Youngjae bursts out into laughter and he pats Daehyun's back with a taunting grin. "You're gonna have bad breath all the time. But seriously, has that ever happened? Like, if you fall in love with someone horrible?"

Daehyun snorts in amusement. "Do you really think that people grow flowers based on the kind of person they love?"

"You're the one doing a whole business on it," Youngjae retorts, jutting his lower lip out.

"Doesn't mean I believe in it. It's complete bull, I swear," Daehyun drawls, sipping noisily at his coke.

"That means you're a conman," Youngjae feigns a brash gasp, pointing an accusing finger and wagging it with the click of the tongue.

"You're an idiot for thinking it's real," Daehyun returns smugly. He glances to the time but says nothing, coughing a little.

"Wait, so it's really not true?" Youngjae asks, glimpsing to the clock as well. It's eleven. Daehyun promptly taps his shoulder and asks for a refill, Youngjae getting up and pacing over to the fridge. "I mean, I heard that people always grow the same flower for the same person." He grabs a new mug and pours some hot water, swiping a tea bag and plopping it into the cup.

"Yeah, you only heard. There's lots of articles disproving it," Daehyun answers, squinting at the tea with a raised brow. Youngjae insistently shoves it into his hand and sits back down, tugging off his blanket from the bed and draping it over himself.

"I read once that some weird chemical in your body's released when you're heartbroken and it makes your lungs receptive to pollen or something," Youngjae bemuses. "The harder you fall, the faster it grows, because the emotions are stronger and triggers whatever hormones in you.”

“Anyway, you're right. Guess it's all just superstitious crap." With his stomach full, he sleepily slumps against the side of his bed, half-lidded eyes barely observing the screen.

Daehyun drums his fingers against his knee and mentions, "Maybe they do grow based on the people you like. I just don't think the same flowers grow all the time if you keep falling in love with someone."

"There's so many sides to a person. No way one flower's gonna represent someone completely," Daehyun notes thoughtfully. Youngjae yawns and nods, leaning his weight against Daehyun as he lolls his head to the left.

"What flowers do you think you represent?" Youngjae questions offhandedly, picking at some dead skin on his cuticles. Quietness teems at the edge of nightfall, empty streets allowing queer outsider conversations to drift by. Daehyun's breaths are heavier than usual, which means he's definitely starting to sprout this batch of blood flowers. The sooner, the better, Youngjae guesses. Daehyun will finally take a well-deserved break from coughing up petals every few weeks.

Honestly, it'd be better if he didn't grow them at all.

"Bluebells, I guess?" Daehyun answers unsurely. "Maybe delphiniums."

Letting out another brash yawn, Youngjae slurs, "I think you're like a wisteria."

"Oh."

The dimness they're doused in caresses Youngjae's eyelids and he sniffs, head laid on the edge of his mattress. "Hey, what about me?" He muffles, trying his hardest to stay awake.

"I don't know," Daehyun returns. "You're like a lot of flowers."

"Choose one," Youngjae mumbles, reaching over and trying to prod his cup onto the table. Daehyun emanates a quiet sigh as he deliberates.

"Daisies," he concludes, not much conviction to his tone. Youngjae shuts his eyes and hums softly. Hearing Daehyun shift around, he carelessly grabs the air the first two times before grasping Daehyun to stop him from leaving.

"Go to bed, kid. It's late. I gotta go," he intones, slipping out of Youngjae's clutch as he rises.

"How about sleeping over?" Youngjae blearily suggests, eyes still closed tight. A wrinkled hand messes up his hair and the warmth simmers away into thin air, Daehyun pacing off to the kitchen sink. The crisp sound of running water trickles away along with the clang of ceramic, Youngjae prying open his eyelids to see Daehyun tying up the rubbish.

"Stay here for the night, Daehyun," Youngjae repeats, a slight whine to his groggy voice. He rubs his eyes in exhaustion and tries to coax him over with a few half-hearted swats. It's been a custom for Daehyun to sleep over when he stops by late at night, especially when they've drunk.

Daehyun doesn't live too far off—right above the flower shop, actually—but it's nice to have Daehyun's company throughout the night. He'd sleep on the floor on the thin, worn-out mattress Youngjae's brother dumped here and sometimes, they talked through the night till dawn broke. About a lot of things, really. Life after college for Youngjae, whether Daehyun misses his late parents, that they often don't know where they want to be. Youngjae likes hearing Daehyun's baritone rasp, assuring that things will be fine and he'll always be able to change them if he's not happy.

"Where am I gonna sleep?" Daehyun points out matter-of-factly. "You got rid of the extra mattress."

"You make it sound like I wanted to. It was moldy." Youngjae struggles to stand, collapsing into his bed promptly and rolling over. He squeezes himself into the wall and mutters a thanks when Daehyun passes him his fallen blanket, tucking himself in.

"Just sleep on my bed," Youngjae mumbles, pointing towards the cupboard. "The extra blanket's in the cupboard. Get the lights for me, will you?"

Daehyun's reply comes belatedly. "I feel like I'm downgrading," he heaves jokingly, sauntering over to flick the light switch. It takes a while for him to finally climb into bed, Youngjae pressing himself persistently into the wall to make space. Daehyun lowly chuckles and gently tugs him away from the pillar.

"You seem like gardenias too," Youngjae blubbers, tears pooling at the edges of his eyes from fatigue. He's in that half-awake, pendulum state of being exhausted and wanting to stay up to talk. If he falls asleep, he won't have any time to talk to Daehyun tomorrow.

Daehyun hums. "I mean it when I said you're like a lot of flowers," he starts coarsely. "I wasn't just lazy to think of one."

"Whatever," Youngjae murmurs, nuzzling his cheek against his pillow. There's a four-beat pause before Youngjae's voice, shrivelled into a high-pitch from fatigue, bristles in the night air.

"Are you really not interested in getting a girlfriend?" It's something they talked about casually at the store the other day. Daehyun had said it was a hassle to be in a committed relationship and combined with the fact that the flower shop would struggle without a steady source of income, his priority of taking care of his parents' store cemented right at the very top.

“Not at the very moment,” Daehyun heaves, guttural, consoling voice grating against the nightfall. His breath tickles the nape of Youngjae's neck along with the cool draft fluttering the curtains. “It's not a big deal, Youngjae. I might get one later; I might not.”

“Okay,” Youngjae whispers, voice withering away as slumber claws at the ends of his syllables. “You can always fall in love, Daehyun. Don't let the business stop you.”

“I do fall in love. A lot,” Daehyun points out, Youngjae narrowing his eyes and tumbling over. Their noses nearly touch and Youngjae shifts back slightly, framing out Daehyun's greyish, abysmal irises.

“You know what I'm trying to say,” Youngjae mumbles. “I don't know if that weird lady has been brainwashing you but there's nothing wrong with a blood florist dating and getting married.”

“...Alright,” Daehyun breathes. His gruff fingers hesitantly reaches out and after a moment's thought, he brushes away a stray strand of hair tittering along Youngjae's forehead. Youngjae purses his lips and rolls back over, nestling into his blanket like a coccoon. Moonlight trails over their fused silhouettes and Youngjae nearly falls asleep when Daehyun breaks the night.

“It's karma,” he chuckles, Youngjae shivering slightly when Daehyun's warm breath grazes the fringe of his skin. “I only loved flowers and didn't love my girlfriends like I should. Now, I'm stuck loving one-sidedly for the rest of my life.”

“Hey, you said you were gonna stop the business in a few years' time,” Youngjae protests weakly, too fatigued to churn out a less high-pitched mewl. “You're the one bringing the karma upon yourself.”

Daehyun hums languidly, tone dispersing into the chilly atmosphere of forgotten city and shut doors, gasoline spilt into the crevices of asphalt. Youngjae curls up when he feels Daehyun gradually slip an arm over his hips, hand edging upwards so as to avoid the exposed skin above the rim of Youngjae's sweatpants.

“Is dating that nice for you?” Daehyun questions huskily. “You seem to really want me to get a girlfriend.”

“Ugh, you're making me sound like an overly nosy mother,” Youngjae whines, burrowing himself into the blanket. Daehyun lets out a quiet guffaw and returns soothingly, “Alright, alright. Go to sleep.”

Between the dreams of sunlight bouquets and June jam jars, Daehyun's warmth accompanies Youngjae safely throughout the boat ride of nine-hour summer. Daehyun shimmers in the reflection of the pond and he catches Youngjae when he falls, dispersing into petals of crimson and clawing heartbreak.

--

Morning pricks at Youngjae's eyelids and he groggily stirs, rolling over and squeezing his bolster tighter. His mind pieces together the memories from last night and he spends five minutes attached to the fabric of his mattress, remnants of stardust and sand taping his lashes together. He rubs them away and blearily sits up, scent of sizzling toast and fragrant eggs toiled into the seven o'clock air.

He nearly plops off the bed when he stands, prying off the notebook paper pasted haphazardly on the opposite pillar. Left early. Clean up your damn room, you lazy .

Youngjae briefly glimpses around to find his books stacked neatly on the table, pile of dirty laundry vanished from the floorboards. He discerns a racuous cough and pads out of his room, catching sight of Daehyun sitting at the doorstep. He's putting on his shoes, clearing his throat persistently as the racket grinds into the morning air. Daehyun eventually rises from the floor and spins around to shut the door, lethargic eyes falling upon the college student slouching by the doorway.

“You're up,” Daehyun greets lowly as he tucks his hands into his jacket, gaze raking over the slender boy half-awake before him. Youngjae plods to the door and murmurs in an almost unintelligible sentence, “Thanks for making breakfast... and cleaning my room.”

“It's coming out of your paycheck,” Daehyun remarks, Youngjae's falling eyelids immediately snapping open. The former smothers back a hoarse guffaw and he simmers into a subtle curl of the lips, smile shattering when another bout of coughs confront him. A trace of a white petal slips from his throat and lands on the ground, Daehyun carelessly kicking it aside in the corridor.

“That fast?” Youngjae breathes in consternation, forlornly regarding the taller man. Daehyun locks eyes with him and exhales lengthily, picking out something from his pocket. He twirls the ivory flower between his thumb and index finger, responding indifferently, “Full bloom.”

“Lilies.” Youngjae flutters his lashes at the innocent bud sitting in Daehyun's crinkled palm. Sleep is still clambering over his shoulders so he churns out no snarky afterthought, simply peering at the healthy flower curling shyly at the ends.

Daehyun steps forward and tucks it behind Youngjae's ear, sinking back into his black windbreaker. His slow blinks scrawl out an unsaid tiredness battered into his eye circles, irises composed of matt soot.

“You look pretty.” Once again, his eyelashes bat excruciatingly sluggishly against his cheeks and it seems like he has aged once more. The weight of unreciprocated love rests itself within Daehyun's skin every time he engages blood flowering, making him wear the poignance of a thousand years and burn light memories.

He swivels on his feet and strides into the elevator, not before calling out a swift see you tomorrow. Youngjae stares as his profile disappears and catches the white lily as it slips from the back of his ear. Thumbing the fringes, his shoulders fall with a short sigh as he saunters over to the plate served for him.

It's always spring in Daehyun's lungs. The season of innocuous romance and first-love blushes, rosy cheeks and interlocked hands—all tenderness twined into the soft ambience. For Daehyun, it's where blood blotches onto his tongue and he grows thorns within his ribcage. April bloom, cherry simpers, Spring at its peak.

Youngjae decides it's his least favourite season on the way to school.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! All the feedback you guys have left means a lot to me; I really appreciate them (๑´ω`๑)