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Futakuchi. Save me.
Kogane doubted that his snappy senior would actually do anything to help him, but at this moment, Futakuchi was the only one who came to mind. See, Kogane was screwed, absolutely screwed. And right now, he needed the attitude he always received to actually get something done.
He had a crush. On the florist across the street. You’re so stupid, Kogane, his mental Futakuchi mocked. But how could he not have a crush? The florist was just so pretty, so gentle with the plants, the customers, the simple act of even just wiping the windows…
There was an undeniable magnetism to Goshiki, and even with that bowlcut–which he thought added to the charm, shut up, Futakuchi–it was as if every passing glance Kogane had was dedicated to the florist.
He didn’t know what to do.
“I mean, just look at him, Kosuke! How could I not look at him!” Kogane gushed to his friend during one of their meetups. He had pulled out an image from the shop's website where Goshiki was holding a bouquet at the opening. “He’s just so—”
“Bowl like,” Kosuke remarked, sipping his tea. “But I guess I see what you mean. He has friendly eyes, looks like he would run a flower shop.”
“And his style matches the shop too! He’s like a flower, too. Just too pretty and gentle and—”
Kosuke clasped a hand over his mouth, frowning. “Listen, Kanji. It’s great that you found your soulmate or whatever, but I’m an ally, and I feel afraid of this one-sided homosexual pining. If you’re going to spout Romeo nonsense on me, I'd better see some action going on.”
Kogane pouted against his hand and shook his head. “Sukii, I don’t even know what to do! We haven’t even had a real conversation! What should I do?” He sighed dramatically, holding his head in his hands. “Why’s he have to be so pretty—“
“This is why I refuse lady love. Too much stress. I don’t have enough time to do all of that and keep myself sane. But I’m glad you found love, man. You needed something in that head of yours, couldn’t stay empty forever.”
“Kosuke!”
“Ok, I’m sorry!” He raised his hands defensively. “But seriously, if you want to charm your florist, you have to make a move.”
“But how” Kogane grabbed his friend’s shoulders, shaking them avidly. “Tell me, Kosuke!”
“Well, he’s a florist! I dunno, give him flowers? Research them? Come on!”
Give a florist flowers...
Huh.
That’s not a bad idea!
“Of course it’s not a bad idea, idiot. There’s no way he doesn’t already know what they symbolize and whatever, I mean, look at the guy, he’s so flower oriented I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”
“Flowers then. Okay.” Kogane squeezed his friend excitedly. “I’ll give him flowers! Yeah! Oh wow, you’re a genius, Kosuke!”
“Yeah, yeah. Thank me by making me your best man and paying for my dinner.”
“Kosuke!”
It was another mundane Wednesday. There was a student who had been sitting in the corner of the cafe, studying who knows what with their headphones plugged in, blissfully unaware of Kogane's inner turmoil. Near the windows, there was a couple who seemed to be on their first date, and if he tried to listen, he would hear them asking the small questions about hobbies and likes.
But that wasn’t what he was really paying attention to.
Kogane watched in fascination as Goshiki's eyebrow scrunched up as he arranged the newest bouquet for the window display, and couldn’t help the smile that crept up on his face. His nimble fingers moved with such grace as he delicately placed each stem into the vases, before his featherlight touch brushed against each petal.
He wondered if he would keep that same grace with his partner, if those same fingers would deftly brush through their hair, those same eyes regard their visage with the same ardour.
He wondered if it would be the same for him.
The past three nights, he had spent researching the symbolism of flowers, and he had even gone to the dollar store to purchase a notebook after realizing he didn’t have one when he searched for a paper to write his notes on. There was a messy stack of library books on his desk, teetering slightly from his rough scrawls. His floor was a mess of scattered encyclopedias on botany and flower history, as well as loose-leaf notes on individual flowers.
The book he was currently holding had multiple sticky notes sticking out, which were quick scribbles he made when he found something that would possibly portray his feelings towards the florist.
He knew that this couldn’t just be for the aesthetics; the petals themselves could hold meanings. In the past hour alone, he learnt about how even the colour of the same kind of flower can change the meaning completely, and he was taking extra care to categorize them right.
He was giving flowers to a florist after all.
“Definitely not,” he muttered quietly, staring at the entry on carnations. He had originally thought about giving Goshiki pink ones, as they had symbolized gratitude and admiration, two things he was sure he felt to some degree towards the other man, but quickly vetoed the colour once he saw ‘a mother's love’ right below it. “Not trying to send that message.”
He needed something to convey his feelings, a combination of wishes for friendship that only slightly transitioned into whispers of romance.
It needed to be perfect.
“Oi, Kogane! Strawberry matcha with oat milk!” Bobata snapped him out of his flower-watch. “75% sugar!”
“Uh— yes! Coming right up!”
Next week.
He’d give it to him next week.
“Taichi, I don’t really know what to do.” Goshiki stirred his soup again, sighing. “You know the cafe guy? The one with the yellow hair? Yeah, I dunno. He keeps looking at the flowers in the display, but he never really… does anything.”
“Tsutomu, you're an idiot,” Taichi said plainly. “I think he likes you.”
“Me?” Goshiki sputtered. “No way— I think he’s just interested in the display. There’s no way. Besides, he’s always making a stupid face when he uses the blender, I could never—”
Taichi snorted. “Someone’s in denial.”
“And someone hangs out with Hayato and Semi too much,” Goshiki shot back. “I’m not.”
“Well, why would you know he makes a face when he uses the blender, hm?” Shit, he got me there.
“Just give the guy a chance, hm? Besides, I think you like him~” Taichi teased, poking his cheek. “You haven’t rambled like this since Kunimi!”
“That was in high school!” he squawked, red flushing his cheeks at the embarrassing memories.
“You’re fond of the guy!”
He walked out of the bar. He wouldn’t give Taichi the satisfaction of being right.
The doors chimes released the same melodious tune as they did whenever a new customer entered the shop, and Goshiki made his way towards the front, adjusting his cardigan underneath his gardening apron.
“Hi! Welcome to Floweresque! How may I help—you?” His voice cracked at the end when he saw a familiar mop of yellow hair. Shit.
“Hello! I’m Koganegawa, but you can call me Kogane. I uh, work at the cafe across the street, and wanted to stop by and say hello!” The man shifted on his feet, and Goshiki was made aware of the crinkling plastic sound he’s grown accustomed to. He didn’t—
“I also brought you something!” The barista—Kogane—handed him a bouquet. Goshiki blanched.
He…
Gave me flowers?
He gave a florist flowers.
He nodded his head slowly, thoughts spinning wildly as he stared at them.
This hunk of a guy, wearing sports tech underneath his apron, which had a chocolate stain on it, got him, a florist, flowers. He glanced down at them, his mind racing faster as he inhaled sharply.
Yellow roses: friendship and new beginnings.
Yellow tulips: happiness, friendship.
Orange carnations: warmth, happiness, excitement, fascination.
Clovers: faith and hope…
No, there’s no way he knows the meanings behind these flowers. Goshiki gave him what he hoped was a non-suspicious once-over. This guy obviously likes the colour yellow and thought it was a nice welcoming colour. His hair is literally yellow, so he probably wanted to make that connection. Yeah. That’s definitely what happened.
But if he did…
“Thank you, they’re quite nice.” Goshiki gave him a small smile. He’s never been on the receiving end of flowers after all. Kogane all but beamed at him, giving him a quick nod.
I don’t really mind if we become friends.
“I’m glad you like them! If you ever want a drink, I’m right across the street! Yeah! You can have a discount if I’m on shift, so uh—” he trailed off, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that. And next time you want flowers, you can always get some from me.” Goshiki offered back. What am I saying?
“Really? That’s cool! I’m trying to make more friends with my community, you know, and well, hello stranger!” Kogane tilted his head. “Ah, Goshiki, you have a little dirt on your face.”
The barista reached over, thumb wiping at his cheek before he shook his hand off. “There you go! All better now, nothing covering up that cu— face of yours.”
Dontlookatmelikethatdontlookatmelikethatpleaseohmygoodnesshetouchedmyface.
“Uhm, thank you.” Stay strong, Tsutomu! His mental Satori yelled at him.
“Oh, and I get this is awkward, but can I get your number? I really like the flower arrangements you set up, and just wanted to let you know!” My number? OhmygoshhesaskingformynumberwhatdoIdo–
“Yeah! Sure! Here!” He quickly scribbled it down on a piece of paper, before handing it to him. “I think I’ll know it’s you.”
He watched as the man typed it into his phone, before he felt a vibration in his pocket.
Unknown:
Hi :3
“Thanks, Goshiki!” He reached a hand out to shake. “I hope we can be good friends. I think you’re really cool!”
He shook it. “Back at ya.”
What an odd guy.
It was a Tuesday when it happened.
He and Goshiki had grown closer, going from strangers across the street, to acquaintances, to what he hoped were friends. He had actually managed to get the florist to come over to the cafe as well, and learnt how he preferred the sweeter drinks, especially the strawberry drinks they had to offer. He tucked that information away, knowing he’d use it again at some point. Goshiki likes strawberries.
It was already past closing hours, and there was snow already falling from the sky, the white powder dusting the street. Kogane was busy cleaning up his evening shift, rinsing his sticky hands off from spilling caramel on them, when he heard the crash.
He shot up away from the sink, eyes wide as he watched. It was a shrill sound of a car swerving on the ice, before the shattered glass made acquaintance with the snow. Petals of all shapes and colours took flight, tossed in the whirlwind of debris.
A car had swerved into the flower shop.
Where Goshiki was.
In spite of his cleanup, Kogane ran to check on the florist, seeing how Bobata was already on call with the emergency responders. He yanked the door open, the biting cold peppering his cheeks and nose as he ran across the road.
“Goshiki! Goshiki! Are you in there?” he called out, violently opening the still intact door, his eyes darting around the scene.
Shattered glass of the windows, the wreckage of a side-view mirror, and piles of assorted leaves and dirt littered the scene. It was the overwhelming stench of wet earth and gasoline, and Kogane heard the final coughs of the engine sputter out.
All that was left was a suffocating silence. The car's hazard lights flashed on and off, signalling for an emergency as if it wasn’t obvious enough. Those lights cast a rhythmic amber glow around the wreckage of the shop, and Kogane was brought back to the matter at hand.
Where was Goshiki?
“Goshiki! It’s me, Kogane! You in here?” He called again, stepping over the moss and dirt towards the register. A faint groan coming from beneath one of the displays changed his attention.
“Goshiki!” He quickly lifted the shelves off the other man, and he heard a soft whimper. “Oh my— are you—no— what hurts?”
Goshiki groaned again. “I think… I definitely did something to my wrist. But—” the shelf he was tugging on was lifted higher as the florist shuffled his body back. “It’s definitely better than what could have happened.”
“Let me help you with that.” He offered his hand to help steady the man, and his other hand lifted the shelf to let his legs come out. He watched his brows scrunch up, not in focus, but in pain, and felt his chest tighten.
“Thanks, Kogane.”
A plant fell from the shelf behind them, a sharp crack from the pot.
There was a palpable shift in the air as Goshiki stared at the wilted petals, and it was almost as if Kogane was watching his demeanour go through a metamorphosis. The other man's hands shook slightly as he cradled it in his palms. It was a mess of shredded plant and broken glass, and Kogane wished to take it out of his hands, to take the florist away from the wreckage and tell him that it’s alright, it's just a plant. But he knew that to Goshiki, it was more than ‘just a plant’; it was akin to his child, a form of life that he had raised from the seed.
“Goshiki?” He crouched down next to him. “We need to get you checked out.”
“I have a doctor. It’s ok,” he whispered, eyes blank as they stayed downcast at the broken display.
“Still, it’s cold here. Let’s at least get you to the cafe—”
“They’re gone, Kogane.” The florist's voice was watery now, but even with his emotions, he laid the bruised stem down with the same precise care as he always did. “They’re dead.”
Goshiki trembled again, but a thought seemed to come over him as he shot up, wincing, before rushing to the car. “Hello? Are you alright?”
I didn’t even think of the driver.
“Kogane! Here, help me open the door, the window’s already broken,” Goshiki said, sticking his hand carefully through the broken glass. “We’re going to help you, sir.”
The man inside the car was unconscious, but nothing outwardly looked too bad. The airbag was already deployed, and when they pulled him out, after quickly checking over him, they didn’t find any gaping wounds or mangled limbs. He was okay, superficially.
“He’s really lucky,” Kogane murmured. “Hydroplaning is a dangerous thing.”
“What?” Goshiki’s eyes were dazed, confused at what he was saying. “He hydroplaned?”
“Black ice was common last year. The city hasn’t iced over the roads yet, so that's the most likely answer as to why he crashed,” he explained. Goshiki blinked, but didn’t ask for more elaboration. The red and blue lights from the ambulance took away their attention from the conversation, and Kogane quickly explained to the paramedic what had happened. As he watched the unconscious man get pulled into the ambulance, he turned back to Goshiki.
“I’m dropping you off at your doctor's office. No arguing.”
“So, your wrist is sprained, and that's definitely the best possible outcome that could have happened from a literal shelf falling on you. I mean, you have lots of bruises too, but the only thing mildly severe is the wrist,” Shirabu stated plainly.
Goshiki frowned. “No fancy doctor talk?”
Shirabu sighed and tapped his clipboard. "Based on your symptoms, it looks like you’ve developed some bruising and swelling in your wrist and body.” The man gestured towards the darker areas on Goshiki’s body and frowned at his wrist.
“The swelling is a result of the inflammation, which is a natural response to an injury. It’s important to manage the swelling to help prevent further discomfort and help with healing.” He hummed before continuing. “I recommend elevating your wrist when possible and applying ice for 15–20 minutes every couple of hours, especially during the first 48 hours, which is the next two days, until Thursday afternoon.”
Goshiki nodded, not exactly having any plans in the first place. “For pain relief, you can take over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medications like ibuprofen—your basic painkillers—as long as there are no side effects for you. Avoid using your wrist for any heavy tasks, so no working with any pot.,” He gave Goshiki a hard look. “I can give you a wrist splint as well.” Shirabu tapped something into his phone before continuing with his explanation.
“If the pain increases or if you notice any signs of infection, like redness, your wrist heating up, or unusual swelling, let me know right away. Otherwise, you should start seeing improvement in the next few days as long as you follow the care instructions." Shirabu finished, then stared him in the eyes. “Happy now?”
“Yeah, thanks, doc,” Goshiki teased, before gingerly looking at his wrist again. There was a quick knock on the door.
“Doctor Shirabu? Here’s the splint you requested.” So that’s what he was typing.
Shirabu thanked the nurse and gave it to him. “Take care of yourself, okay, Tsutomu? I'm saying this not just as your doctor, but as your friend. Now you'd better listen, or I’m telling Reon.”
“Aye, aye, doctor.”
The next few days, Goshiki spent rebuilding. He checked on the driver, and thankfully, he and Kogane had assumed correctly, and he was walking away with mild injuries. He himself followed Shirabu’s instructions and chose to stay home.
That certainly didn’t stop the influx of calls. His phone buzzed all day, some wishing for him well, some sending condolences, and return calls from insurance. He’s been assured that he wouldn’t have to wait long before the exterior of his shop gets fixed, and surprisingly, Kogane has been a big help. Some of his old friends from high school work in construction now, and against his wishes to pay full price, he’d been given a good deal.
According to Semi, who dropped by the front of the shop to check in and give him an update, Kogane had been helping his friends rebuild the store and had been helping clean up after his shift. He truly was grateful for him, and when he hchecked on the shop, Kogane insisted he stay back.
“You need to rest, Goshiki! Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Call it a favour or something.”
“Are you sure? I don’t even know how I’m going to repay all of you for this.” In his head, he was doing the numbers and internally wincing at how many of his old regular orders for flowers would be cut. Kogane shook his head, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m serious, Goshiki. Just trust me, okay?”
“I– fine.”
The unsaid thank you was heard loud and clear.
“Come on, Goshiki. You need to get some air.” It had been about two weeks since the crash, and now that his wrist had been feeling better, all he’d done was tend to his plants. The ones that he’d managed to salvage were in his mock “plant‘hospital’, and he’d been trying to revive them ever since. Additionally, he’s been dealing with even more calls, and his sleep schedule has definitely seen better days
“I am getting air,” he snapped.
Shirabu raised his hands in mock surrender. “Geez, calm down. I’m literally just suggesting things to help you. Because I’m your doctor.”
Goshiki rolled his eyes at the other man, giving him the finger. “You’re convenient. I knew you in high school!”
“Ok then, find a new medical professional!”
“Shirabu—”
“Doctor. Doctor Shirabu to you,” he corrected, tapping his pen on his head. Goshiki was about to retort when his phone buzzed on the counter.
Koganegawa Kanji:
Hey Goshiki! Hru?
I was wondering if u wanna go to the market w me tmrw
The public one btw
With the stalls
teheres a festival going on
With each notification, Goshiki could feel the menacing aura from his former upperclassman.
“You’re going,” Shirabu stated. Goshiki opened his mouth. “No complaining, in fact—”
He grabbed Goshiki’s phone and texted a quick response to Kogane.
Goshiki Tsutomu:
Sure! I’ll see you there! Does afternoon work for you?
“Shirabu!”
“Doctor.”
“I don’t even text like that! Shirabu!” He lunged at him, and Shirabu simply jabbed him in the side.
“Try me, I went to medical school. Now this is your mandated medicine, go outside.”
Waiting in front of the station, Goshiki looked for Kogane. Unbeknownst to him, Kogane was right behind him.
A hand covered his eyes as a voice whispered, “Guess who.”
“Hi, Kogane,” he laughed, before turning around. Kogane was wearing a bright yellow scarf, and had a surprisingly long jacket on. He’d always thought that he would have been the type to enjoy shorter jackets more, but it appears he's been proven otherwise. But the real thing catching his attention was the sheer amount of flowers in his hand. It took him a moment to even process what he was looking at. Pink roses, red tulips, red carnations–they’re a bit on the lighter side, though, are those lilies? Lavender roses?
“I know you’ve been feeling really down since the incident, and I wanted to cheer you up, Goshiki!”
A blush rose in his neck in embarrassment as he felt the heat. This was the second bouquet that Kogane had given him since they met, and it was even more forward than the previous. There’s no way he knows the connotations of these flowers.
The two of them weaved through the bustling market stalls, and his senses were overwhelmed by the sizzling spices of street food and the infectious aroma of the flowers. The sun cast long shadows behind them as the clouds drifted in the distance.
“You want anything, ‘Shiki?” Goshiki froze. Shiki?
“Oh, sorry, uh—it just slipped out— if you’re uncomfortable with nicknames I can always stop, yeah—”
“It’s ok, Kogane! Seriously! No one’s ever given me, like, a nickname with my actual name involved! Haha! Yeah— um. It’s usually just, ‘idiot’ or ‘bowl cut’ or ‘ba—‘ yeah, lots of stuff!” His neck felt hotter. He did not need to overshare his high school experience of the eccentric upperclassman who infantilized him every now and then.
“Oh, really? Ok, that’s good. I’ll keep calling you ‘Shiki then.” Kogane smiled at him. “Now, uh, did you want anything? On me!”
“I dunno really…” Goshiki looked around the stalls, eyes suddenly drawn to the okonomiyaki stand. He hadn’t had one in a long time and missed the flavour. Kogane seemed to catch on to what he was looking at and happily tugged his arm towards the stand. It was quick as Kogane ordered, and Goshiki was surprised that he knew he liked strawberries.
The two of them continue their day out, even find a Ferris wheel and go for a ride. Goshiki couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as Kogane pressed his face against the window of the capsule. It’s been a good—a great outing together so far. It’d been a lot less awkward than he thought it would be, with Kogane making up for when Goshiki wasn’t sure what to say. A sharp breeze caused him to grimace, though, and he found himself shrinking into his jacket.
“Where to next?” he asked.
“Anywhere you want, ‘Shiki,” was Kogane's quick reply.
The two of them ended up wandering for a while before they decided to go for a restroom break. Goshiki finished his business early, and he waited outside the restroom before noticing something. A bright yellow duck toque was on display at one of the booths. It was so painfully Kogane that he knew if he walked away from it, he would never forgive himself.
He bought it without a second thought; it’s an easy way to say thank you, and it could possibly even shave off a fragment of the impossible favour he owes to him. Once he leaves the shop, he notices Kogane’s mesmerized eyes as he becomes awash in the thrum of the crowd. There’s no question that the other man loves festivals, and seeing him so full of joy made him feel even warmer. He clutched the bouquet closer to his chest, smiling to himself.
“Kogane, stay close.” He approached from behind. “Wouldn’t want you to wander off first thing after you see some pretty lights.”
Kogane snorted at the thought, and latched a hand on his wrist. “Won’t get lost if I’m holding onto you. And I’m literally a yellow beacon! You won’t lose me. But yeah, I get distracted at festivals.”
That’s obvious.
The two of them weaved through the crowd, and believe it or not, Kogane holding onto his wrist really did help. Somewhere between the fountain and the chocolate shop, their fingers linked together. Here they were now, unmistakably holding hands.
It was weird and not weird at the same time, but that felt even weirder than just being plain weird. Goshiki is ridiculously aware of Kogane’s hand in his own, and accidentally squeezed the other's hand just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. To his surprise, the other man squeezed right back.
They make it all the way to the station before Goshiki realizes he hasn’t given his gift to Kogane yet. “I got you something, by the way.”
Kogane froze, already ready to refuse it, but Goshiki wasn’t letting him get away with it. He all but shoved the bag into the other man's chest, and glared at him.
“If you accept this, I’ll feel better.” He internally celebrated when Kogane relented and opened the bag, and his ego was fed more when he saw the literal sparkles in his eyes.
“It’s a duck!” Kogane held the hat with such awe before immediately putting it on his head. “I'm wearing this forever, you can’t stop me.”
“Didn’t plan to.”
“Futakuchii, please help me,” Kogane all but begged his former upperclassman. Aone, always so helpful, rubbed his back to comfort him. “How do I tell him?”
Futakuchi groaned, but took a sip of water and looked him dead in the eyes. “Mistletoe.”
What.
“You heard me, you giant blubbering buffoon. Mistletoe. Winter special, and it will continue with the whole plant motif thing you’ve got going on for you right now.”
“But–”
Futakuchi pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You asked me for help. And I am giving you advice.”
“But– mistletoe?” To his betrayal, Aone hummed too.
“Kosuke already told us about your bouquet plan, so when you give your last bouquet, get some mistletoe too.
“Okay, how’s your friendship moving so far then?”
“Well, he helped me set up a live plant display at the side of the cafe. It’s definitely brought in some more customers, I think he called it a flower wall? He said it’s to make the decor more ‘tasteful’, so Bobata and I just let him do whatever he wanted with the wall. I like it, though, it reminds me of him.” He hummed again, before remembering the hat. “He also got me a hat! It's so cute, it's yellow, and it's a duck! Isn't that amazing?”
“Sounds nice,” Aone assured him. “I’m sure you like it.”
“I do!”
“Okay, moving on from the hat. Kanji, you will give this florist mistletoe, understand? Then you will consensually show him your feelings.” Futakuchi poked his forehead. “Am I clear?”
“As day!”
“Now, where exactly do I find all these flowers you want?”
“Hey Tsu, I have something to give you,” Kogane—no, Kanji said. It’d been a few weeks since that day with the flying glass and petals, and the two of them had grown close. Really close. Beyond the market and the Ferris wheel, they’d gone to the city, the park, and a restaurant. They’d hung out countless times, and Goshiki knew more about the cafe manager than he would have thought; his favourite order to make, his favourite seat in the cafe, his favourite pot in his shop, and stories of him in high school. Kanji had successfully lodged his light into Goshiki’s life.
“Yeah?” he asked. “What is it?”
“You’ll see. Well, find out later.”
Goshiki’s breath hitched as he stared at the new bouquet on his table. Daisies, red roses, dark red carnations, honeysuckle, and purple lilies. He couldn’t deny it anymore. Every single one of those flowers symbolized…
Love.
A small letter was concealed within, behind the arrangement of reds and purples. It was a simple green envelope, and when he tore it open, six simple words were revealed.
You know where to find me.
He did. There was one section that Kanji loved to spend his time in every time he invited him to the shop. The mixed bouquet section.
His steps were quiet, but his heartbeat was loud. Every second he spent walking closer was a second he had to think. He doesn’t know the symbolism, right?
Right?
No, Tsutomu, those are the most obvious flowers ever. And everyone knows red flowers mean love.
He was scared he was getting his hopes up. He was scared, he was just overthinking things. Maybe it was just a bouquet to congratulate him for rebuilding the shop. Yeah, that could be it!
As he turned the corner, he clutched the flowers closer to his chest, the sweet aroma intoxicating. There, Kanji stood, hands shoved into his coat pockets, forcing for a casual look. But Goshiki knew better. Even if he was trying, it was endearing how he was failing.
A quick cursory glance around the area made Goshiki’s heart stop. He had looked up, and there, dangling from one of the high beams, was a red string. And hanging from it was a simple sprig of mistletoe. It was tied so neatly, so unlike Kanji, it must have been intentional. His eyes followed the line back down, and the man in front of him had a sheepish smile on his face, a cold sweat forming on the edge of his forehead.
“I was wondering if you’d look up,” Kanji said.
The two of them stared at each other for a trepid breath, and the facts were laid plain for him to see. There was no denying it now. The realization settled slowly, like the snow on the sidewalk. The mistletoe, the flowers, and the earnest way Kanji was looking at him.
Goshiki smiled, couldn’t help it, not with how warm his entire face felt. The meaning was finally clear to him. Another moment passed, and neither of them moved. Then they both laughed—soft and nervous, waiting—before Goshiki took a step closer towards the mistletoe.
It was a Thursday when it happened.
The kiss was quiet, brief, and light—a promise more so than a declaration—they both had felt it coming, but Goshiki still felt his heart race. Kanji tasted like strawberries, but Goshiki knew he used vanilla chapstick. When they pulled away, both of them were smiling now—well, Kanji looked like his face was about to burst from how big his grin was.
It was a simple kiss, so very simple, and Goshiki had seen it happen countless of times, but it still felt so new.
“I think… this is my favourite flower arrangement this season,” he said finally, and Kanji slipped his hands around his back, before hugging him tightly.
“I’m glad you liked it,” the man whispered into his neck, and spun him around. “I’m so glad you liked it.”
“Of course I did.”
There on that Thursday afternoon, underneath the mistletoe, they shared their first kiss, and then their second, and then—
Goshiki didn’t want to elaborate.
“You’re my favourite flower, Tsutomu.”
“Really? Thought it was—” their lips met again, stealing away the retort before it was even done. The unsaid shut up was clear as day.
Well, Goshiki liked this new way of being shut up.