Late spring brings with it the fine greenery of the trees on the sidewalk, swaying with the still chilled breeze, the sun rays bright but not harsh, cascading pleasantly through the large panes at the entrance of Jongwoon’s tattoo parlour. Picturesque as the scene is, however, it is not what Jongwoon finds himself engrossed with, no, it is the clock on the wall that points the time to half past nine.

“Worried about your boyfriend?” comes a sly voice by his ear, making him jump, the cup of coffee at his elbow teetering dangerously over the edge.

“Dammit Heebongie!” he grumbles, after bringing his cup back to safety, Heechul’s cackles in the background the only thing audible in the stillness of their tattoo parlour that early in the morning. “I don’t even have a boyfriend!”

“Ah but you sure wish you did.” Heechul’s eyes gleam with impish amusement. “A certain pretty, brown-haired florist who generally walks by the store at a quarter past 9 and is suspiciously late today.”

“Have you been stalking him or something?” Jongwoon asks, a tad bit incredulously.

“No, but you’re always staring out the window around that time and the flower shop opens at 9.30 so it’s safe to assume, right?”

Jongwoon tries to fight the blush that creeps up his cheeks, embarrassed to have been so obvious, but it’s to no avail. “No,” he says, turning away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s been three weeks, Jongwoonie, you might as well pop in and say hi. What’s the worst that could happen?” And Jongwoon knows that Heechul is right, technically, but he’s not about to be exposed like that without some form of payback, so he turns back, arms folded over his chest.

“And what’s the worst that could happen if you ask Jungsoo-hyung out instead of not-so-subtly flirting in my shop at all hours?” He stares at Heechul in a silent challenge, eyebrow raised, until the older man backs away, hands up in surrender.

“Touché,” He says, but he’s grinning. “But you’re only making this harder for yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jongwoon grumbles. “Don’t you have a piercing appointment in ten minutes that you need to prepare for?”

“Oh , you’re right.” Heechul darts off to one of the back rooms, and when Jongwoon turns back to resume his look out through the windows, he catches a blur of a brown haired figure rushing past his shop, the sight making him smile in spite of himself.

*

The next person that talks to him about it is Jungsoo, and Jongwoon doesn’t brush him off as harshly as he did Heechul, only because Jungsoo is more tactful about and also because Jongwoon had to admit Jungsoo usually has great advice about things, like that time he’d convinced him to add piercings to the shop’s services.

But then again that did lead to hiring Heechul and the subsequent kinda-there-but-not-yet mooning phase the two have going on that he’s had to put up with…

“You’ve been to Donghwa’s flower shop before, haven’t you?” Jungsoo asks, when Jongwoon is busy inking a customer’s shoulder and therefore has no opportunity to run away. 

“A few times, yes,” Jongwoon answers, remembering the occasions where he’d bought flowers for dates that never had a follow up. “Why?”

“His brother is kinda cute.”

“His brother…?”

“The boy with brown hair that you apparently watch for every morning. They must be brothers, right? I crossed him when he was leaving once, they look quite similar.”

“Huh.” Jongwoon says, trying to keep his voice neutral to hide the mortification of having his crush on a stranger become such public knowledge, damn Heechul. “I hadn’t realised.”

“Anyway,” Jungsoo continues, and Jongwoon knows he’s someone rolling his eyes even though he’s still concentrating on his customer’s shoulder, “I ordered some tulips for my mother. You can go pick them up later, I have that guy coming in for the next session of his back tattoo, and it’s going to take quite some time to finish.”

Jongwoon splutters in protest, half-formed excuses about managing the register and checking the finances falling on deaf ears. “You’re just picking up an order, it’ll be quick. Just introduce yourself, and be friendly.”

He walks away at that, leaving a muttering Jongwoon and a very confused customer behind.

*

About an hour later Jongwoon is pushing past the glass door to the flower shop, the shrill ring of a bell announcing his entrance, but it goes unheard in the bustle of the store. Jongwoon hasn’t been a regular customer to the neighbouring shop, but he can’t recall the place ever looking that busy. Young men and women alike are crowded by the register, all holding flower arrangements that seem suspiciously mismatched, as though chosen in a hurry.

Jongwoon half wants to leave, the congestion making him rather claustrophobic, and feeling rather out of place with his dark clothing and chains and sleeves of tattoos, but he’s there on a “mission” from Jungsoo and he also has to admit he is a bit curious to meet the pretty, brown-haired florist that walks past his window every morning at a quarter past nine and is apparently the younger brother of the owner here.

When he can finally see said man at the register, he’s almost as tempted to start blushing and giggling like the pair of young girls in front of him. He is unbelievably good-looking up close, with light, fluffy brown hair that reaches past his ears, giving him a slightly boyish charm in contrast with broad shoulders that seemed to sculpted by God herself just to spite Jongwoon, because he knows his type and that it’s the soft looking boys who always manage to catch his attention, but this was a bit much, to be honest. Even the flowers he’s currently ringing up seem to pale in comparison with his looks, and suddenly Jongwoon understands why the shop is more crowded than it ever had been before.

The girls in front of him seem reluctant to leave, and understandably so, but when they’re handed their change accompanied with a blinding smile, they retreat, star struck expressions replacing their giggles and blushes. And when the smile is directed at Jongwoon, with the standard “Hi, how can I help you?” asked so cheerfully it sounds like he genuinely wants to help, it takes Jongwoon an embarrassingly long time to realise that it was being addressed to him. The part of his brain that has not turned to mush upon laying eyes on the man behind the register makes a note that the next time he walks into the store, he’s going to bring a pair of sunglasses with him.

“Hi,” he says, congratulating himself on the fact that he hadn’t lost his voice in the face of such a disarming smile. “I’m here to pick up some tulips for Jungsoo?

 “Oh!” The exclamation sounds so apologetic that Jongwoon has the urge to forgive the man immediately for whatever blunder he seems to have made without even knowing the details. “I’m so sorry sir, but I haven’t been able to make the arrangement yet, we’re a bit short staffed at the moment and my brother generally handles the register-”

Jongwoon interrupts his flow of apologies, the man’s evident distress distressing him as well. “It’s alright, I can just come back later, if that’s okay?”

“Of course! When will you be free, mister…?”

“Jongwoon,” he supplies. “I work right next door, so you can give Jungsoo a call whenever and he or I can come pick them up.”

The man’s face lights up again. “Oh, you work at the tattoo parlour?” And Jongwoon has never felt so glad that he does indeed work at one. “Then it’s no issue, I can bring them over myself. Is half past one okay? My brother should be in by then.”

“Sounds good.” Jongwoon smiles, and the smile he gets in return is somehow even more blinding than before. It makes him feel all jittery, like he’s just had three coffees in a row, and he’s the kind of person who would know what that experience is like.

“Thank you, Jongwoon-ssi,” says the pretty, brown-haired man behind the register, and Jongwoon is still reeling from how lovely his name sounded in that voice when, ten minutes later back behind his own register, he realises he’s never asked for a name in return.

*

Half past one could not come soon enough, in Jongwoon’s opinion, and he’d taken to pacing across the floor during his break, much to Heechul’s amusement. But when the sharp trill of the bell resounds around the quiet parlour, Jongwoon whips around so fast that he nearly loses balance.

“Jongwoon-ssi!” comes the pretty voice from the pretty man, a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand. “I brought the flowers!”

Aware of Heechul’s prying eyes on him as he approaches their visitor, he fights to keep his nervousness out of his voice. “Thank you,” he says, taking the bouquet. “I realised I never asked for your name…”

“Lee Donghae,” says the man, and Jongwoon finally has a name for the pretty, brown-haired man who brightens up his mornings more than the spring sun. “I’m Donghwa’s younger brother, I’m helping him with the shop now that I’ve graduated from college. So I guess that makes us neighbours, right?”

Jongwoon is just about to think of a reply when Donghae exclaims an “Ooh!” moving past him, peering up at the framed illustration of a sunflower Jongwoon had drawn in his younger days. His eyes catch Jongwoon’s scribbled signature in the corner, and looks at him with awe in his soft brown eyes. “Did you really draw this, Jongwoon-ssi?”

“Yeah, it was a few years ago though, when I first opened the shop.”

“It’s so lovely”, Donghae says, turning back to admire it again, and Jongwoon's heart flutters at the praise. “So do you own the store?”

“I do, though Jungsoo-hyung helped me through the whole thing. He’s working on an appointment right now though.” 

“You must be very talented.” Jongwoon thinks that if Donghae praises him any more he’ll turn as red as the roses that decorate his store. “And your tattoos,” he says, pointing to Jongwoon’s arms, “Did you design all those by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Jongwoon answers, and almost stops breathing when Donghae takes his hand to look at the tattoos with childlike wonder, goosebumps rising on the skin under Donghae’s fingertips. Heat spreads across his cheeks and he’s uncomfortably aware