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There is a light coating of dust on the counters when Steve walks into his shop. He had barely dipped in during the weekend, and the start of a new week presents an abundance of opportunities to him.
He smiles, his shoulders falling lax as he turns on the lights, the bulbs lighting up in their metal fixtures. He thinks that Robin might’ve come in on Saturday to water the plants, but it’s not like she would know to wipe down the counters, and Steve happens to like doing that task, anyways.
Just to be safe, though, he does go around and waters the plants, greeting them soft good mornings , because yes, of course he talks to his plants. After they’re all watered and he knows he’s double checked all of them, he moves towards the front counter. He fetches a cloth from the back, as well as a bottle of cleaner. While Steve’s in the back, he turns on the sound system, hearing the radio start to come over the speakers in the store. With motivation and a task at hand, he heads out to start to get ready for customers.
It doesn’t take him long to clean. If anything, it’s ten minutes, tops, and then the waiting game begins. It’s early in Hawkins, and the only people out and about are the ones heading for the start of their work day.
From across the street, he sees the familiar tattoo parlor owner dip into his own shop. Steve watches him as he drops his keys, squats down to get them, and successfully makes it into his own studio. Steve just shakes his head with a smile. He pushes his circle frames up his nose, looking down at the custom order booklet that Robin had so graciously left out next to the register.
The list reminds him that he has an actual job to do, and while he would rather not be working, he is in his happy place; surrounded by flowers and plants. So he can’t complain much.
He recognizes most of the names on the list, but there is one towards the bottom that strikes him as new. He’s never made an arrangement for this person before, but the request seems easy enough. The only name that’s scrawled down is Munson , no first initial, no first name.
Steve thinks it could be either of them. Eddie or Wayne, that is, but Wayne doesn’t seem like the type to order a custom flower arrangement…Especially not one filled with Angelica, bluebell, spring Crocus, and hollyhock. It’s quite the ambitious and courage-filled arrangement, but perhaps that’s why Steve likes it so much.
And yes, while there are other arrangements above the Munson one, he does want to get it done first.
So sue him if he starts it first.
Steve moves quickly when he starts making it, placing the untrimmed flowers into a pretty vase. He hums under his breath to whatever song comes over the radio as he works on the arrangement.
Some customers come in while he’s working, and he gives them his very chipper, “Welcome to Harrington Flowers & Co! Let me know if there’s anything you need help with,” spiel before going back to work on the Munson arrangement.
Robin clocks into work around ten, even though she’s not scheduled until ten thirty. He smiles brightly at her from over the counter as she moves to start her day on the floor. She eyes him suspiciously, shaking her head as she grabs a watering can. “You’re awfully happy for ten in the morning,” she says. He ignores her. He’s far too happy, even if he can’t explain why, to deal with her antics.
Steve finishes placing the untrimmed flowers into the vase moments later, satisfied with how it looks. He’s grateful that Robin isn’t hovering by him, because if she saw that he didn’t even take a second try at getting them in the right place, she’d be all over him and asking questions.
He partially falters when he realizes that this could be Wayne’s arrangement, not Eddie’s. He still carries on with the same enthusiasm he had when he started, though it could be the smallest bit muddled down. He moves on to cutting the stems of the flowers down, not moving them too far so that he doesn’t lose the positioning he has.
Robin flutters around him as he starts the process. She glances at the arrangement, humming softly as she passes by. “Which is this one?” She asks, looking up at Steve. He blushes, fiddling with his hands. “The Munson one,” he mumbles, dropping his glance in favor of looking down at the flowers. He can practically feel the shit-eating grin radiating off of her, so he chooses not to look back up until she’s waltzed away again.
He continues on working, faster now that he knows Robin’s onto him. It doesn’t take as long to trim the stems down, and before he knows it, the arrangement is done. He sighs, leaning forward and placing most of his weight into his arms as he looms over the flowers. It’s a pretty arrangement, but it could have some more green in it. He throws some ivy into the mixture, smiling in satisfaction when the colors even out.
When he looks up at the time, he sees that it’s nearing eleven. Noon time is usually when people come in to pick up their arrangements.
Steve adds one last touch to the Munson arrangement, a red and black ribbon tied around the dip of the vase. He sets it aside with a card in front of it with the name on it, moving onto his next arrangement from the book.
He keeps a careful eye on the clock as he works, hoping to get the most out of this hour. Though, he can’t deny the tingle he feels as time marches forward.
When noon finally rolls around, Steve has finished, with Robin’s help, five arrangements. The final one was a close call to noon, but they finished it nonetheless.
Steve is placing the last arrangement on the pick up counter when Dustin comes barreling in through the door. The bell that’s on said door, is not happy at the sudden movement. Steve looks up with wild eyes, an amused smile on his lips as the boy comes running up to the counter.
“Hi, Dustin,” Steve says, wiping down the cutting board and his scissors from where they lay on the opposite side of the checkout area. Dustin is panting, holding up one finger as he rests the other hand on his knees, squatting down so he can catch his breath. “Did you run downtown from your house?” Robin squacks, her head sticking out from one of the aisles. He points at her, barely nodding. “Biked,” he manages to wheeze out. Robin and Steve make concerned eye contact.
Dustin finally comes up for air a moment later, looking at Steve with wide eyes. “Mike,” he wheezes once more, “wanted me to come and ask if you could make an arrangement for him.” Dustin is looking at him with pleading eyes. Steve bites back a groan, instead asking, “why are you here asking for him?”
“Because he’s with Will,” Dustin responds, shamelessly, indifferent, cool as a cucumber.
“Mike knows my policy,” Steve reminds Dustin, feeling bad that the kid biked all the way down here just for him to probably get denied. Dustin lets a strangled sound escape his throat, tossing his hands in the air. “He finally got his shit together! He asked out Will! What more do you want from the kid!!” Dustin exclaims, looking like he’s more than ready to drop to his knees and beg for this arrangement.
Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What does he want in the arrangement?” He eventually caves, looking up at Dustin with his chin propped on his hand. Dustin brightens almost instantaneously, and starts listing off flowers and vines that Steve knows damn well he’s stocked with.
Robin watches him with a bemused look from where she’s sitting on her stool.
When Dustin finishes up with the simple arrangement list, Steve nods, eyes subtly moving to stare at the tattoo parlor across the street. “Fine,” he concedes, and Dustin lets out a little cheer. “Is it a surprise from Mike to Will?” Steve asks, starting to piece it together. Dustin nods enthusiastically, letting himself behind the counter on his own accord. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him. “Yes, it is,” Dustin confirms, settling down on Steve’s stool.
And since all of the other arrangements are already done, Steve writes down the flowers that Dustin had listed off, and heads into the back to grab a vase.
When he comes back to the front, Eddie Munson is leaning against the counter, talking to Dustin and Robin. Both of his friend’s faces are lit up in ways that he’s never seen them. He likes the look of it.
Eddie is dressed in black denim and a leather jacket, a white plain t-shirt underneath the leather. His hands are riddled with rings, which Steve thinks is contradictory, considering his job.
He nearly drops the vase he’s holding when Eddie makes eye contact with him, a blinding smile pulling up his lips.
Eddie is holding the arrangement in his hands, holding the vase like it’s his baby; though he is careful enough to watch the water level in the way he holds the glass.
“Hey there, pretty boy,” Eddie greets him, and yeah, the vase in Steve’s hands is lucky to still be in contact. Steve’s cheeks flush, he can feel the heat radiating off of them without even having to move his hands. He hopes he doesn’t look like an idiot. “H-hi,” he stutters out, dropping his gaze from Eddie’s. “These look great, as always,” Eddie compliments, pulling Steve’s eyes back up to him. The smile on the curly haired boy’s face is less intense now, rather, something more genuine, more soft. The blush on Steve’s face isn’t as hot, but it is still there, more vibrant now.
“As, as always?” Steve questions, tilting his head partially. “Mhm,” Eddie hums, “I usually have Gareth come and get them, but I had an opening, well, more like a lunch break, so I came to get ‘em.”
Steve nods, like that makes sense, because it does, but he’s so focused on the way Eddie’s smile looks so soft and natural, that he can’t really think of anything else. He can’t think of anything to say, but it’s not like Eddie seems to mind.
He gets pulled out of his trance when he sees Robin make a hand gesture out of the corner of his eye to Dustin. He glances at her, giving her a raised eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything about it.
“Alright, I better get back over to the shop,” Eddie says, taking two twenties out of his pocket and sliding them over the counter towards Steve. “Keep the change, sweetheart,” he tells Steve, giving him a not-so-subtle wink.
Steve’s words die out on his tongue as Eddie pivots on his heel, but not before he ruffles Dustin’s hair. He gives Robin a high-five on his way out, and Steve is still standing there, holding the two twenties close to his chest as Eddie dips out of the shop. Steve watches as he looks both ways before crossing the street and making his way back into the tattoo parlor.
All is silent in the flower shop, except for the radio, but Steve can’t even hear that anymore. He’s staring at the point of which was the last place he could see Eddie, like if he stares long enough, Eddie will appear again. He doesn’t, and Steve just calls it wishful thinking.
When Steve moves again, it seems to jolt Robin and Dustin back to life as well. They’re asking him things, about what the hell that interaction was, but Steve doesn’t answer a single goddamn question. He just looks at the money in his hands, more than well aware that Eddie paid too much–more than he needed to. And he told Steve to keep the change. There’s a zip of something that goes down Steve’s neck, it makes him shiver.
He continues to ignore his two friends, setting the money into the cash register, his eyes always going back to look at the tattoo parlor.
It’s a quiet and stormy Tuesday, the next time Eddie comes into the shop. Steve is the only one in, more than happy to give Robin the stormy day off. He spent the morning tending to the new seedlings he had planted, giving them extra love, as he does with all new plants.
He’s in the middle of sorting through a box of new bulbs when the door opens, the bell barely heard over the pounding of the rain against the glass and roof. Steve hears it, though, adjusting his frames as he looks up.
Eddie is standing in the entranceway, leather jacket still pulled up over his head to protect his hair. He’s soaked, regardless, because the last time Steve checked, the rain was pretty much falling sideways.
“What are you doing here?” Steve asks incredulously, trying to stifle a laugh, and failing miserably. Eddie looks up at him, wide eyed and cherry cheeks. “Is that how you greet your customers?” Eddie asks rhetorically, sarcasm laying heavy in his voice. Steve giggles, downright giggles at that, returning to the counter and jumping up so that he’s still facing Eddie. “Maybe,” he teases, shrugging his shoulders. “I just don’t think you should be going out in that storm,” Steve supplies, nodding back to where Eddie had just entered from. The curly haired one just rolls his eyes, walking into the store and standing right in front of Steve. “I’m on break,” he says, as if that makes him walking out into a raging storm perfectly okay.
Steve tilts his head back with laughter, shaking his head when he calms down. “You’re crazy,” he whispers fondly, the frames of his glasses falling down his face.
“Yeah,” Eddie grins, “crazy for you.”
And that renders Steve speechless, the darkest blush coating over his cheeks as Eddie just grins at him. He can’t say anything, can’t think of anything witty as a comeback, because what the fuck was that.
“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”
Steve downright whines , sliding his hands under his glasses and covering his eyes. He knows Eddie is grinning like the Cheshire Cat, teeth on display because he knows what he does to Steve. Soft hands come up to gently guide Steve’s own hands away from his face, and there he is.
Steve was wrong. Eddie has the softest look on his face, dimples poking out as he catches Steve’s eyes. “There’s the pretty boy,” he says, voice delicate as if Steve is made of glass, and Eddie is a bull in a China shop. “Stop it,” Steve whines, but he’s smiling, wringing his hands together as he leans closer to Eddie. “Mm, what if I don’t?” He asks, planting his hands on either side of Steve. The dangerous grin has returned, but Steve is too dopey to think that it’s scary to him.
They spend Eddie’s break together, but it morphs into the rest of the day because it’s not like anyone is booking appointments for a tattoo in the middle of a summer thunderstorm.
Eddie helps Steve water the plants, he helps him with some arrangement, and even puts in an order of his own.
When the day eventually dwindles down to an end, and Steve has swept through the shop twice, and flipped over the sign so it says, Sorry, we’re closed! , Steve follows Eddie to the tattoo parlor. The flower shop is locked up and Steve grabs his bag, meeting Eddie by the door.
They walk across the street together, downtown deserted because of the storm. Although, the rain has started to cease, left to be more of a sprinkle than anything.
When Steve walks into the parlor, his breath leaves his lungs. The lobby area has lush couches and a bunch of sketches up on the wall in frames. There’s photos of tattoos on different body parts, with impeccable line art and amazing shading. Steve does a little circle, looking around at everything once, maybe twice, just to be sure he’s seen everything.
Steve’s eyes find the front desk, perched upon it, his arrangement. His heart swells, a happy noise escaping his throat as he moves towards it. The flowers are healthy, the ribbons are still in their original bow.
Eddie comes around from the back, a denim messenger bag thrown over his shoulder. He grins at Steve when he sees him looking at the flowers.
“Y’ready to head out?” Eddie asks, swinging his keys around his fingers. Steve nods, taking one last look at the flowers in the vase before heading for the door again. Eddie takes the rear, shutting the lights off and locking the door. When they step out from under the awning, they find blue skies coming in from the west. There’s a light sprinkle surrounding them, and it tickles when the drops land on Steve’s cheeks.
Regardless of his glasses, Steve lets the drops land on his face, tilting his head back. It feels therapeutic, the way the rain cools his face down and drips from his jaw. It feels grounding.
Feeling eyes on him, Steve cracks his own open, dropping his head back down and looking over at Eddie. Eddie is looking at him with what Robin would call ‘heart eyes’, a dopey smile on his face. Steve blushes, dropping his gaze again. A ring clad hand cups his jaw, though, tilting his gaze back up.
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” Eddie asks, his voice genuine.
Steve doesn’t even think he’d have the voice to answer that question.
Instead, he shakes his head. He stares at Eddie with the widest eyes.
“Well, you need to hear it more often. You’re pretty, Stevie. Real pretty.”
“Thank you,” Steve whispers, finding it in himself to crack a grin at Eddie.
Eddie just smiles back. “Just the truth, sweetheart.”
They stand there for a moment, untouched by time. A rumble of thunder off in the distance jolts them apart, their cheeks the same shade of pink as they look at anything but the other.
“I should be getting home,” Steve murmurs, even though he knows he doesn’t need to be home. His parents aren’t there, and even if they were, they wouldn’t pay him any attention.
Him starting his own shop was a hopeful shout at his father for the man to be proud of him. The only reaction he got was his father criticizing his choice of it being a flower shop. Steve hasn’t spoken to his father much since then.
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, same here…You better drive safe, though.” Eddie looks at him pointedly when he says that. Steve smiles, “I will. You gotta promise to do the same, though.” He holds out his left pinky.
Eddie looks at him with the fondest smile.
Their pinkies lock, and Steve feels a bit fuzzy on the inside.
They part after that, all smiles, the both of them. They make their separate drives home. The fuzzy feeling that Steve has doesn’t disappear until he walks into his house and is met with utter silence. What replaces it is the feeling of loneliness. The crushing feeling of always running to please someone you know you’ll never meet their expectations. Steve’s been running towards his parents ever since he learned to walk.
Especially when he realized that he would never fit their cookie-cutter mold.
That’s why he opened his shop, because he also stopped caring. A long time ago. His parents would never be proud of him, and he understood that. Sometimes it makes him sad, but he remembers the things he’s worked for. He works with his best friend in the whole wide world, and he’s making a new relationship with someone who really seems to care about him.
So yeah, his house may be big and lonely, and he feels like it suffocates him half the time…But as long as he thinks about the little things he loves, well, then he can go to bed with a smile on his face.
And maybe, just maybe, he falls asleep just a little bit in love with Eddie Munson.
The fated bouquet order comes in on a day where Steve isn’t working. He comes into work the following morning, though, his pre-opening routine being completed when he looks down at the arrangement book.
Eddie’s last name is staring back up at him in the early morning light, and Steve can’t help but smile.
His eyes cast over to the flowers in the arrangement, and that’s when his heart drops.
Munson – Asters, white carnations, white roses, heliotropes, and white jasmine.
Steve’s breathing catches, and he drops the little booklet, taking steps back until his body hits the wall. It’s almost like the booklet is made of poison, and he doesn’t want to get too close.
He wonders if Eddie knows what those flowers mean, because if Steve were ever given that in a bouquet, he’d marry that person on the spot.
Steve’s hands shake as he prepares the arrangement, constantly looking back and forth between the booklet and the untrimmed flowers sitting in the vase. Robin comes in during this freak-out session, and he barely even acknowledges her. This, obviously, sets her off.
“What’s wrong,” she demands, deep concern in her eyes.
Steve wordlessly moves the booklet to her, letting her read the order for herself. “Oh,” he hears her say, and, yeah , he thinks, oh.
Robin knows exactly what the flowers mean, because of course Steve told her all about the language of flowers when he opened his shop. What kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t?
“Maybe it’s for you, Steve, you never know. You always say that you’d want someone to confess through an arrangement.”
While this is true, Steve has no idea how Eddie would know that.
He just leaves it, continues on making the arrangement, placing six of each flower in the vase. He knows numerology, and six is the number of eternal love.
Sue him for being a hopeless romantic.
He even wraps the vase in a pale red ribbon.
Robin watches him from wherever her tasks in the store put her. She can tell her friend is hurting, that he’s confused and unsure of so many things. She just hopes he can feel the good energy she’s sending him.
Noon rolls around and Steve places the arrangement on the pickup counter with shaking hands. He wipes his palms on his apron, wet from cutting the stems off the flowers. He’s not sure what he’s going to say to Eddie when the boy comes to pick up the bouquet, maybe he won’t say anything at all. Maybe he’ll hide in the back and let Robin take care of the transaction.
No , he thinks, He can’t do that to her. He can’t do that to Eddie.
Steve stays in his spot, anxiously picking at hangnails and peeling skin on his fingers as he waits. He’s sitting on top of the counter again, because somehow, his feet not touching the ground makes him feel better.
The bell rings at 12:05, and it’s not Eddie. It’s Mrs. Wheeler, and she greets both Robin and Steve sweetly as she goes to peruse around. Steve wishes that had been Eddie, because then the air in his lungs would’ve returned, and they could’ve dealt with it. Steve feels like he can’t breathe, like there’s a giant boulder sitting on his chest and he’s letting himself succumb to it.
The lack of oxygen in his lungs makes his vision spin.
Another ring of the bell comes three minutes later. Steve looks up with hopeful eyes, his damn glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose again. But he’s there, and that’s all that matters to Steve.
Eddie is standing in the entryway again, but this time he doesn’t have a leather jacket protecting his hair. He’s wearing a denim jacket that has patches and pins all over it. Steve feels like he can breathe.
There’s a shy smile on Eddie’s face, and there’s an alarm ringing somewhere in Steve’s head, but he can’t hear it. He can’t hear anything. All he can focus on is the way Eddie looks so small , caved in on himself. He usually looks like he owns whatever room he waltzes into, but now, he looks like he’d rather crawl out of his skin than be a prominent person.
Steve lets a puff of air out of his mouth when Eddie finally makes his way up to the counter.
Steve also hears Robin directing Mrs. Wheeler outside, saying something about the plants they have outside, that she’ll find something she loves or something like that. He sends her a thousand thank you’s in his mind. He hopes she feels them.
“Hi,” Eddie says, timid voice and downcast eyes.
Steve studies him for a moment.
“Do you know?” He blurts before he can stop himself, feeling the sickening sense of mortification spread through him as Eddie’s head snaps up.
“W-what?” Eddie stutters, not really meeting Steve’s eyes.
“Um, uh…” Steve curses under his breath, before inhaling deeply. He forces himself to look in Eddie’s eyes before asking again.
“The flowers,” he says, pointing to the vase next to them. “Do you know what they represent?”
Eddie’s whole face has a pretty shade of pink all over it. Steve thinks it’s quite cute.
Steve hears Eddie take his own deep breath, and the next thing he knows, Eddie is shuffling closer to him. There’s a feeling of cold metal on both sides of his face before warm lips are enveloping his own. A catch of breath, and Steve is kicked off the edge of the cliff where he was standing. He feels like he’s flying, when he’s kissing Eddie.
They part to catch their breaths, but Steve is diving right back in when he’s got some air in his lungs.
Eddie makes him feel so dizzy.
When they part a second time, Eddie leans his forehead against Steve’s. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, and Steve can’t help but mirror it.
“I take it you know what the flowers meant, then,” Steve teases, tucking a strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear. Eddie just shrugs. “Guilty,” he says.
Steve just giggles, leaning in and stealing yet another kiss. Eddie invades his senses. The feeling of cold rings and warm skin makes Steve’s skin tingle. The cheap cologne Eddie wears is all Steve can smell, but he loves it just the same. He can hear Eddie’s heavy breathing as they kiss, the way it hitches when he presses in closer.
Steve might just lose his damn mind.
The bell ringing on the door makes them spring apart. Robin and Mrs. Wheeler walk in, and Mrs. Wheeler is indeed holding a plant from outside.
Praise Robin, Steve thinks, ready to check out Mrs. Wheeler.
Once Mike’s mom is out of the store, Robin takes her lunch break, leaving the store with a wink to Steve.
“So,” Eddie starts, glancing over at the vase. He picks it up. “These are for you,” he grins, setting the vase down in Steve’s palms. Steve just smiles, cheeks hurting because of how hard. “I love them, I love you ,” Steve grins, “‘cuz that’s what they mean.”
Eddie nods, infatuated with Steve. “I know,” he says, voice almost hollow because he’s so focused on staring at Steve. He points at the heliotrope, “those mean eternal love and devotion.”
And Steve just nods along as if he didn’t know that in the first place.
Steve supposes that if he gets these bouquets and then some, orders placed by the boy in front of him, and he gets to see the love filled smile Eddie’s wearing all the time, then he has no problem making the arrangements.
He’s got no problem in getting love confession bouquets from Eddie Munson.
Not a problem at all.