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Keith keeps finding flowers in the strangest of places…
It all starts on a Wednesday. He’s walking back to his locker with Pidge after first period, talking about the difference between poltergeists and phantoms and ghosts in general. They’re studying paranormal occurrences throughout history together, but so far they’ve disagreed on what to classify every encounter they’ve researched.
“I’m just saying,” Pidge says, rounding the corner to get to their lockers. “It could clearly touch things, so it has to be a poltergeist.”
“And I’m just saying, it really doesn’t mean that,” Keith argues stubbornly as Hunk and Lance come into view. The four of them always meet at their lockers during the break between classes to talk before splitting up for the next period.
“You’re late!” Lance yells, crossing his arms and fixing them with a faux-annoyed glare. Keith shrugs at him in response, turning to his locker and starting to twist the lock to his combo.
“Lance, tell him that the Waterson haunting was a poltergeist,” Pidge demands from behind him. Keith sighs, rolling his eyes even though no one can see him.
“Dude, it’s a poltergeist,” Lance agrees. “It knocked that plant over, so it has to be.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Keith protests, turning around and glaring at Lance. “You’re just taking her side ‘cause you don’t want to admit that I’m right.”
“You really think I’m that petty?” Lance retorts, looking offended. “Jeez, dude, give me some credit. I’m not the same person I was a few years ago.”
“If anything, you’re worse,” Pidge chimes in jokingly.
“Pidge, be nice,” Hunk chides, speaking up at last. He’s not exactly quiet, but between the four of them he definitely speaks the least. It’s probably due to his gentle personality, especially compared to Pidge and Lance’s brashness, not to mention Keith’s blunt persona.
Keith sighs, turning back to his locker and starting the combo over again. He doesn’t want to argue around Hunk, even if it’s over something petty like ghosts. He wants to at least seem like a good person around him, even though they’ve known each other for years.
His lock clicks and the locker door swings open easily. Keith is ready to shove his first period books inside messily and grab his next period’s books out, but something colorful catches his eye instead.
Sitting at the bottom of his locker lies a small bundle of tulips, the stems slightly bent so the bouquet fits inside. The flowers are pink, pruned to perfection and tied together with a matching ribbon, but there’s no note attached like there would usually be.
“What the…” He pulls the bundle of flowers out and holds it up for his friends to see, their earlier squabble drifting to the back of his mind. “Is this a prank? Lance?”
“What? Why would I prank you with flowers?” Lance steps forward to take a closer look. “Nah, this wasn’t me.”
“Well, it has to be one of you,” Keith points out, looking around at the three of them. “You guys are the only ones who’ve got my locker combo memorized. Unless you gave it to someone else, which still counts as it being one of you.”
“It wasn’t me,” Pidge says, putting her hands up in the air. “I swear. You know I’d be filming you if this was a prank.”
“Same,” Lance agrees. Keith turns his attention to Hunk, who shrugs simply.
“I don’t know, Keith,” he says sympathetically, looking away. “Sorry.”
Keith sighs, turning and setting the flowers back inside carefully. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Just- whoever did it, don’t put stuff in my locker again without telling me, okay? I’ve got important, top-secret things in there.”
“Like your extensive beanie collection?” Pidge teases.
“Disembodied limbs,” Keith replies, without missing a beat. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to be late again.”
He grabs his books, being careful not to crush the bouquet, and turns towards the science room. He and Hunk have Chemistry together next, while Pidge has English and Lance has Geometry. The four of them part ways at the lockers, and he and Hunk set out towards the science lab.
“Why flowers?” Keith wonders aloud, his mind still stuck on the tulips. “I mean, those are supposed to be romantic, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Hunk confirms after a second of thought. “Mom says pink tulips mean caring. They’re really popular at the store. Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer.”
“Yeah, right,” Keith says, disbelieving. “Maybe someone got their partner’s locker number wrong or something.”
“Maybe,” Hunk echoes, but he sounds doubtful. Keith shrugs it off, and with that they enter the lab. Nobody mentions the tulips for the rest of the day.
***
The second time it happens, it’s a lot more public.
Keith arrives at his locker with Pidge in tow, expecting Lance and Hunk to be there waiting. But despite the fact that Lance is always nagging him about being late, the two of them are nowhere to be seen.
“Think they got held after class?” Pidge wonders, glancing down the hall. “Maybe Lance back-talked a teacher again.”
“That was you , Pidge,” Keith points out, craning his neck for a better view. “Maybe they’re not coming today. I’ll text them.”
He types out a quick message to their group chat, but when no response comes from either Lance or Hunk, the two of them split up. Pidge waves goodbye to him as she heads down the hallway in the opposite direction.
Keith frowns. It’s weird not meeting his friends in between class periods, even though he knows he’ll see them at lunch, anyway. He turns and heads towards the Chemistry classroom again, glancing back once to make sure Lance and Hunk aren’t going to appear out of nowhere.
There are only a few people in the science lab when he arrives, but he immediately spots Hunk standing near their desks with his back to the door. “Dude, what gives?” he asks, striding over to his friend. Hunk looks up for a second, startled. Kind of like a deer in headlights, Keith realizes.
“Sorry,” Hunk says sheepishly, stepping further in front of the desk. “I just got caught up with- with stuff.”
They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, Hunk shifting his weight from foot to foot while Keith stares at him. It’s weird for Hunk to act so strange around his friends, especially since he’s known Keith for years.
“Well, at least text me back next time,” Keith says at last, moving to sit down.
“Uh, wait-” Hunk blurts, but it’s too late. Keith stops short as he registers the bunch of deep pink roses laid out on his desk, a red ribbon tied around the stems. Once again, there’s no note attached, nothing else to indicate who might have left the roses there.
“What the hell? Again?” Keith mutters, picking up the roses. Upon further inspection, they’re actually quite pretty. The edges of the petals are darker than the middles, creating a nice gradient effect. Still, he doesn’t know why they’re here , on his desk.
“I was just, um, looking to see if I could find out who did this,” Hunk explains. “But they didn’t leave a note or anything.”
“You think it’s the same person as before?” Keith asks, his fingers tracing the ribbon idly.
“I mean, probably? The ribbon looks the same, and it’s not like flowers are a popular gift around here,” Hunk points out. “I’m serious, man. It probably is a secret admirer.”
“That’s so cheesy,” Keith snorts, but he has to admit, it’s a nice thing to do. People at the Garrison aren’t exactly known for being romantic, and for someone to spend money on flowers without even signing their name is practically unheard of.
“I think it’s sweet,” Hunk says, smiling gently. “Someone must really like you to do this, huh?”
“I don’t know,” Keith replies doubtfully. “I’m not really anyone’s type around here. Maybe it’s a prank.”
“Don’t put yourself down like that,” Hunk admonishes. “I really wouldn’t be surprised if half the school was secretly pining for you.”
“Name one person who’d do something like this for me,” Keith challenges. Hunk stays quiet, eyes focused on the desk, which just about proves Keith’s point. He sighs, turning his attention back to the flowers.
“Does your mom have records of all the people who buy from her?” he asks, changing the subject. “Maybe we could see if anyone bought pink tulips last week and then came back and got pink roses.”
“Those are two of our most popular flowers, though,” Hunk points out, frowning. “Maybe we could go through the records or ask her, but I doubt she’d remember.”
Keith sighs again, setting the flowers down carefully and dropping his backpack to the floor. “Great.”
“Don’t be so down,” Hunk says, sitting in the desk next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure whoever’s doing this doesn’t mean anything bad by it.”
“I know,” Keith replies as Hunk pulls his hand away. Strangely, he kind of misses its presence. “I just don’t understand why they’re doing this.”
“Maybe because you deserve it,” Hunk suggests, surprisingly casual. Keith glances over and sees him unpacking his things, setting them on the desk carefully. He wants to ask what Hunk means, but he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming too needy. He sucks on his lip and turns to take out his own supplies.
He leaves the roses on his desk throughout the entire period, and when the bell rings he picks them up gently, giving Hunk a quick excuse before heading towards his locker. He sets the roses inside carefully, making sure the flowers aren’t pressed against the walls before he closes the door. Lance would never stop making fun of him if he carried them with him all day.
Still, he finds his mind drifting back to the gradient of the petals, the soft texture under his fingers. They’re nice flowers, he thinks, even if the intention behind them is malicious. Maybe he can find a place in his room for them for a little while, if he can sneak them past his family without too many questions.
He wonders if it’ll happen a third time.
***
One week later, a small cluster of yellow roses greets him at their lunch table.
“They were there when we got here,” Pidge says, reading his expression instantly. “I swear. And we got here like, ten minutes early.”
“Seriously? How?” Keith groans, dropping down into his seat. “I don’t understand.”
“Whoever’s sending you these is doing a pretty good job of sneaking around,” Lance says, looking impressed. “I thought I was sneaky, but this is some next-level stuff.”
“Yellow roses,” Hunk comments thoughtfully, staring at the bouquet. “Friendship and optimism. I don’t think this is a prank, Keith.”
“Or maybe it’s a really elaborate prank, and those are meant to lull Keith into a false sense of security,” Pidge chimes in helpfully. “You never know, right?”
“Right,” Keith agrees, but he’s not so sure. Three bouquets of flowers isn’t exactly a great start-up to a prank, even if it is an elaborate one. Is it possible that Hunk is right, and whoever’s sending him these bouquets really does have a crush on him?
He reaches over and moves the flowers closer to him, running his finger over the red ribbon wrapped around the stems. It’s a nicely done bouquet, probably from some fancy flower shop like Hunk’s mom owns. He wishes he could have brought a vase with him to keep them in until he can get them home, but that’s irrational and out of character for him. Plus there was no way he could have known that the flowers were coming.
Wait, he thinks. Last time the flowers appeared, it was a Wednesday, and today’s another one. Maybe it’s related?
It’s been exactly a week since the last time he’d gotten the last bouquet of flowers, and if his theory is correct, it’s exactly a week until he’ll get his next one. That is, if the gifter is dedicated enough to keep going. He’ll just have to wait and see.
***
On Wednesday morning, Keith heads into school with bitten back anticipation. If his theory is correct, a new bunch of flowers should appear somewhere throughout the day, and he’s not sure how to feel about that. On one hand, flowers aren’t exactly a bad thing to come across throughout his day, but on the other, he doesn’t really have a use for flowers. And unless his mysterious flower giver is planning on revealing themself anytime soon, he’s pretty sure their identity will remain a mystery. Aside from the Wednesday thing and the fact that the giver somehow had access to his locker, he doesn’t have much to go on, and Lance and Pidge aren’t much help. Hunk is actually pretty insightful when it comes down to it, but sometimes it seems like he knows more than he’s letting on.
First period goes by quickly, with no signs of flowers. His locker remains untouched by anyone other than himself, and his desk is empty when he arrives at second period with Hunk.
“What’s up?” Hunk asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “You seem distracted.”
Keith sighs. Hunk always knows when something’s amiss with one of his friends, even when they’re doing their best to hide it. The fact that he cares about his friends and knows them so well is one of the reasons why Keith likes him so much. “I was just thinking about those flowers,” he admits somewhat sheepishly. “We found the last two on Wednesdays, so I was thinking it might have been a pattern.”
“I thought you didn’t like the flowers,” Hunk says, frowning. “You thought it was a prank.”
“Well, yeah,” Keith agrees, “I didn’t really know what to think about them at first. But it was actually kind of nice that somebody cared enough to do that for me.”
“Really? You didn’t mind them?”
“Not really,” Keith says. Hunk has a weird way of getting the truth out of him, even though he doesn’t pry. “I just didn’t want to admit it before.”
Hunk smiles teasingly. “You’re trying to act all tough, but you can’t fool me. You’re just a big softie.”
“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, turning away to hide his face. He wouldn’t let Lance or Pidge get away with saying something like that, but he trusts Hunk not to tell anyone else.
“Well,” Hunk continues, brushing past Keith’s embarrassment. “I’m sure they’ll appear sometime today. Patience is a virtue and all that.”
“I guess,” Keith agrees, although he’s not sure that he does. Flowers are expensive, and sneaking them around the school must be a lot of work, especially in secret. Maybe it was only a three-time thing.
He takes vague notes on the lecture during class and finds himself zoning out every few minutes, pencil stalled above his notebook. He glances over at Hunk, who’s writing quickly but carefully in his own notebook. Keith’s always liked Hunk’s handwriting--it’s loopy and round, just a little bit sloppy, like a kindergarten teacher’s might be after a long day of work. He only realizes that he’s staring when Hunk catches him, flashing a gentle smile before he goes back to his notes. Keith smiles back, turning to the front of the classroom and trying to pick up on what the teacher’s saying. For some reason, he keeps sneaking glances over at Hunk, and looking away every time he gets caught.
Before he knows it, the bell is ringing and students are packing up their things and heading out for lunch. “Come on,” Hunk prompts, pushing his book into his backpack. “We’ve gotta get going if you want the hot lunch today.”
“Aren’t you getting something from the cafeteria?” Keith asks, starting to put his own stuff away.
“Nah. I brought my own lunch today, so I’m all good,” Hunk says, waving him off. “I can drop our stuff off at the table and wait with you if you want.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Hunk says, smiling again. “I always like spending time with you.”
Keith smiles to himself, turning back to his supplies to hide it. He finishes putting his things away and zips up his backpack, accepting the hand Hunk offers to help him up. The two of them head towards the cafeteria together, making idle conversation as they go. Hunk grabs Keith’s backpack once they get inside and starts towards their normal table, ignoring Keith’s protests. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he promises as he walks away.
Keith sighs, getting in line for the hot lunch. He sees Lance and Pidge near the front of the line, trays in hand. They must have gotten held after class, since they usually get to the cafeteria at least three minutes before every other class.
Hunk returns a few seconds later, just as promised. He stands next to Keith, just far enough away that the other students know he isn’t in line. Keith grabs a tray from the pile as they move closer, then side-eyes Hunk.
“You won’t tell Lance and Pidge about what I said, right?” he asks hesitantly.
“Don’t worry,” Hunk assures him. “My lips are sealed.”
They move through the lunch line quickly, Keith grabbing a serving of lasagna and an apple from the fruit bowl. Hunk stays with him the whole way, even though he isn’t getting anything. He’s so considerate, sometimes Keith has a hard time believing that he’s single. It’s not like he doesn’t have options, of course--he’s very popular with the student body, in more ways than one--but he always politely turns people down when they ask him out. Keith’s not really sure why.
The two of them head back to their lunch table, joining Pidge and Lance. As they get closer, Keith notices his backpack hanging on the back of his usual chair, with something bright and red sticking out.
“No way,” he breathes, just loud enough for Hunk to hear. “Is that…?”
“Red carnations,” Hunk answers, bending down to get a better look. “It means admiration, and an aching heart.”
“How did they do that without anyone noticing?” Keith asks, looking around as if the gifter might appear out of thin air.
“They were there when we got here,” Pidge says, looking up from her vegan lasagna. “Again.”
“You guys didn’t see anything?” Keith asks, pulling the flowers out of his bag and taking a seat.
“Nope,” Lance replies. “I’d tell you if we did. I’m kinda getting curious, too.”
“Do you think…” Keith turns to Hunk and continues, quieter. “Do you think whoever it is heard us in English? Maybe they’re in our class.”
“It’s pretty likely,” Hunk agrees, matching his tone. “Although I don’t know anyone in our English class dedicated enough to stop by our lunch table and your locker. But hey, it’s a good thing, right? Looks like the flowers are gonna keep coming.”
“Yeah,” Keith says softly, more to himself than anyone else. He bites his lip to hide a smile, playing with the petals of the nearest carnation.
One month of Wednesday flowers, and more to come.
***
The fifth time it happens, it comes with a surprise.
Keith is so busy with homework and classwork and assignments that he totally forgets it’s a Wednesday. Which is strange, because he’s been looking forward to Wednesday all week. But three periods go by before he even realizes he hasn’t seen a bouquet yet that day.
Once again, a feeling of disappointment washes over him as he takes his seat next to Pidge in fourth period. There’s less than two hours left in the school day, and there’s nowhere he can think of where the flowers could appear. His locker and backpack have already been done, and he’s already at his table for the last class period of the day. Unless the gifter starts getting really creative, he’s pretty sure he’ll go home flowerless today.
“What’s up with you?” Pidge whispers, reaching over to poke him in the shoulder. “I thought you liked this class.”
“I’m just tired,” Keith replies, brushing her off. He hasn’t told Pidge or Lance about his Wednesday theory, or that he secretly likes getting flowers at random moments throughout the day, and it seems that Hunk hasn’t either. At least that way no one can make fun of him for it--and it’s kind of nice to have something just between him and Hunk.
Class drags on and on. Keith manages to take decent notes, since Hunk isn’t in his fourth period class, but he still can’t follow the teacher’s lecture. Pidge keeps prodding him with her pencil and giving him weird stares, but he doesn’t bother to explain himself.
He keeps thinking about the red carnations set gently in a vase in his room, and the pressed petals hidden away in one of his favorite books so his family won’t find them. He wonders if the gifter knows that he appreciates their flowers. He wonders if he’ll ever know who it is.
The bell rings as he’s going over his thoughts for the third time. Pidge sighs, shoves her stuff into her backpack with a great sweep of her arm, and turns to Keith expectantly.
“Lockers?” she asks, tilting her head towards the door.
“Yeah,” Keith agrees. The two of them head towards their lockers quietly, weaving through the student body as best they can.
Lance is standing at their lockers when they arrive, staring at Keith’s with a confused expression on his face. “Dude, I think someone left you a note,” he says, gesturing to the piece of paper taped to Keith’s locker door.
Keith squints at the almost-familiar writing, reading it aloud. “Go to the auditorium? Why?”
“How should we know?” Pidge points out, crossing her arms. “You’d better do what it says, or I’ll do it for you.”
Keith glances at his phone for the time. He’s still got a few minutes to spare, so he figures he might as well.
“I guess it’s time to see if this is a prank or not,” he says, steeling himself. “You guys want to come?”
“We’re alright here,” Lance says. Keith frowns at him, his concern growing as Pidge nods alongside Lance. The two of them are some of the nosiest people he knows, which means they either know something or they’ve been replaced with well-mannered clones.
“Alright…” he says slowly, turning away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, see ya!” Pidge calls after him. “Good luck!”
Weird, Keith thinks, shaking his head as he makes his way through the halls. Most of the students have cleared out, even though class had just barely ended, meaning the auditorium is completely empty by the time he gets there.
“Hello?” Keith calls into the darkness, squinting down at the stage. There’s a light on down there, illuminating something red and delicate propped up in a glass vase.
He makes his way down the stairs, looking around nervously. It seems kind of suspicious to leave the flowers there, but he can’t bring himself to turn around and leave without investigating. Finally, he reaches the stage and pulls the bouquet of red roses out of their vase, noticing immediately that there’s a card attached to the ribbon tied around them.
Quickly, he grabs the card and reads the message inside. “Turn around? What does…”
Somebody clears their throat from behind him, and he jumps at the sound, spinning around. there, standing in front of him with his hands shoved into his pockets and a blush on his cheeks, is Hunk.
“Sorry if I scared you,” he apologizes, pulling one of his hands out to rub at his neck. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know how to tell you that-”
“It was you the whole time?” Keith asks incredulously. “You’ve been sending me flowers?”
“Yeah,” Hunk admits, shifting from foot to foot. “I almost stopped after two weeks ‘cause you seemed like you were freaked out by them, but…”
“Then I talked to you about them,” Keith finishes. “And you brought a bouquet with you just in case.”
“Exactly,” Hunk says, smiling his warm smile. “I would have kept going and built up to the reveal more, but I didn’t want to wait anymore. I had to tell you…”
“Tell me what?” Keith asks hesitantly, anticipation twisting in his gut. All those flowers Hunk sent him, all their meanings… Surely he couldn’t be admitting to-
“Turn the card over,” Hunk instructs him, hands back in his pockets. Keith blinks, then looks down at the flowers, turning the card slowly in his hand.
On the other side of the card, in Hunk’s pretty, round handwriting, is the message “red roses = i love you”.
Keith stares at the card for much too long, feeling like his brain has just short-circuited. Is Hunk really confessing to him? Does he have a crush on Keith? Honestly, he hadn’t even considered that it might be Hunk sending him the flowers. Sure, his mom runs a flower shop, and he vaguely recalls their restock days being Wednesdays, but Hunk is so far out of his league. He’s good and kind and funny, and Keith’s just… Keith. Is it really true that Hunk loves him?
“I mean it,” Hunk says, as if reading his thoughts. “I really feel that way. And if you don’t feel the same, it’s alright. I kind of figured as much, but I thought I had to try.”
“How long have you…” Keith trails off, uncertain of where to go. Hunk seems to get the message.
“For a few years now. It was a little on and off at first, but I know what I feel now. I just wanted you to know, too.”
Hunk smiles again, but there’s a hint of sadness to it, just barely concealed. He thinks he’s being rejected, Keith realizes with a start. I should have said something sooner!
He holds the bouquet with both hands, then shoves it towards Hunk, his head lowered. Hunk hesitates, ducking to catch his eye.
“Keith, what are you doing? They’re for you,” he says. “Do you… not want them?”
“I want you to have them,” Keith says, meeting his gaze shakily. “Because, you know. I feel the same way.”
“Really? You… You mean it?” Hunk asks, the blush returning to his face.
“Of course I do, idiot!” Keith exclaims, still holding the bouquet out. “How could anyone not like you? You’re amazi-”
He’s cut off by Hunk’s lips crashing into his as Hunk throws his arms around him. The red roses almost get crushed between the two of them, but Keith manages to pull them out of the way just in time. He feels dizzy and lightheaded, and he can’t contain the smile that breaks across his face as Hunk pulls away.
“If that’s your reaction to getting flowers, I’ll have to get them for you a lot more often,” he says, smiling. Hunk smiles back, as bright as the sun, and leans in for another kiss.