Chapter Text
Jimin hears the bell ring as he’s hefting several bags of soil out from the back to put in their empty new pots, and gladly leaves the task to greet the customer. All day he’s been finding little tasks to avoid the torture that is carrying those bags and if fate decides it wants to give Jimin a legitimate excuse, well, he’s not complaining. He’s also not complaining that said excuse is a tall handsome boy with fluffy brown hair and a cute boxy smile, nope, definitely not complaining .
Jimin brushes off the front of his apron in a weak attempt to make himself look presentable. One of the bags of dirt must’ve been leaking because he’s pretty much covered in it, he spares a quick glance behind him and sure enough there’s a line of dirt from where he carried the bag. Jimin scowls at his misfortune before remembering the cute boy currently roaming the shop and schools his expression into something more friendly.
“Good morning.” He greets, giving the boy a charming genuine smile instead of the flat one he usually uses with customers. The boy looks up from where he’s currently examining the tulips and when his eyes meet Jimin’s they light up.
“It is now.” He says with a surprisingly deep voice and Jimin almost wants to roll his eyes at how corny it is, but something about the boy makes the comment seem endearing, still lame , but endearing. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” The boy- Taehyung , makes his way over to Jimin and holds out his hand.
“Park Jimin.” Jimin replies with a warm smile and almost shakes Taehyung’s hand before recoiling. “Oh, uh sorry, my hands are kind of dirty.”
Taehyung doesn’t pull his hand away. “I don’t mind.” He assures, and Jimin’s not sure why, but it makes his face heat up a little.
“Uh, okay?” Jimin wipes his hands against his apron once more, because despite Taehyung’s assurances he still feels weird about shaking hands while his are covered in dirt, and shakes his hand. Jimin has always been aware that he has small hands, but he’s never noticed it as much as when his hand is in the other boy’s.
“You’re hands are so tiny!” Taehyung coos and Jimin, indignant, pulls back.
“They aren’t that small.” Jimin complains, voice coming out much more whiny than he intended. “Your hands are just huge.”
“Well,” Taehyung leans forward on the counter between them and says huskily, “you know what they say about big hands.” There’s a moment of silence, both boy’s eyes locked on each other, before Jimin bursts into laughter.
“Oh my god.” Jimin gasps in between giggles, using the counter to brace himself because his knees are no longer doing a good job. “That was bad. That was really bad Taehyung.” As Jimin wipes away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes and starts composing himself, he notices that Taehyung has gone oddly quiet, and worries that maybe he hurt his feelings. But when he glances up at the taller boy, he’s surprised to find him staring at him in awe. “What?” Jimin asks, voice still shaky with laughter.
“Jiminnie that was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung says earnestly, and Jimin’s face lights up with embarrassment.
“Don’t say things like that.” Jimin complains ( even though his heart is practically keening at the compliment ) and covers his face, which doesn’t help at all because Taehyung then begins cooing about how cute he is while embarrassed. “Did you come in here just to compliment me or are you actually going to buy something?” Jimin whines half-heartedly after he can no longer take the barrage of compliments.
Taehyung blinks, like he forgot that he came here for flowers and not to hit on the cute florist. “Oh yeah.” He glances around the store before turning back to Jimin. “What would you suggest for a friend who is kind of motherly, and really reliable? Like what would be a good way to say thank you? Also he really likes pink.”
Jimin considers it for a moment, eyes scanning thoughtfully over the shop before he makes up his mind. “I would go with yellow lilies and pink roses.”
Taehyung smiles his boxy smile and nods. “Okay I’ll go with that.” Jimin smiles back and begins arrange the bouquet. “And one more thing.”
“Yeah?” Jimin asks, still picking out the flowers.
“Your number.”