Chapter Text
‘Ding Dong’ the soft bell of the flower shop rang as Peter walked in. To him, he looked out of place, his dark grey sweater, dark blue jeans, and black converse contrasting to the bright colours of the flowers surrounding him and the soft song playing in the background. He walked around looking for the right shade of flowers to get his aunt May, an apology gift for the many missed dinners, one of which he was late to now. The days in university and the combined stress of being a superhero on the side made the heroin's availability much worse.
He walks down the sections admiring the many colours of flowers, touching their petals and reading their tags. He tries to remember anything May has told him about flowers. Did she even have a favourite colour of flower? Maybe he could play it safe and get her favourite colour in general.
That is if he knew what her favourite colour was. The thought that he didn’t was a self deprecating one.
“Hey there," he hears a voice speak at the front counter he shifts his eyes to look at the man.
He wonders if the sun was paid to make the brown skinned man look even better than he already was.
The man stood there basking in the sun, skin smooth, his eyes a dark brown turned almond as the light hit them , gold shimmers reflecting off the glasses they were framed by. Peter's eyes trail to the man's full lips, a bright smile accompanying them. His dimples poked through both his cheeks, the right cheek more prominent than the other.
“Hello?” the man asks again, a deep chuckle escaping his lips. Peter clears his voice “ oh- uh, yeah, um, I’m just looking for flowers for my aunt” He speaks again bashing himself mentally for how unsociable he sounded.
“Oh that's great, is it a special occasion?” the man questions as he gets up from the stool, rounding the counter to meet him. He averts his gaze from the man walking looking back down at the flower that had caught his eyes. The tag read “the bleeding heart” . Something about it warms his heart, reminding him of his beloved aunt. “You could say that,” Peter suggests, sighing deeply “It’s more like an apology bouquet if anything” he smiles humourlessly, looking down as his mood dampens at the thought. “Well don’t go looking like a sad puppy, we’ll find the right bouquet for..” he asks looking down at Peter. “For May“ he finishes.
“Alright we don’t have all day right, let's get straight to work” the man grins the dimples appearing again. Has he mentioned how much he loves the dimples yet?
They walk through the shop discussing different flowers. One of which catches his eye as the mystery man now known as Michael speaks about it, its scent infiltrating Peter’s nose. “These are yellow roses, the ones you were looking at when you first walked in, good eye” he winks at Peter, the flirtatious nod making him blush “Thanks I guess” he chuckles softly, flattered that the man had been observing him from the beginning.
“These flowers are meant to be a symbol of reconciliation, joy, and friendship” he picks one up diligently, cutting the stem strategically. The M chain on his neck dangling over his firm chest. He hands the flower to Peter, their hands brushing lightly the interaction instantly setting a flame his body. He coughs lightly flustered as he looks down at the flower. Michael smiles at him with the same dimples poking the side of his cheeks, Peter restrains the urge to poke at them, As they stare at each other, the contact broken by the bell chiming again.
They quickly finish up making the bouquet full of flowers with intricate symbolisms. They end towards the front of the boutique as they finish their round.
“Lastly you should add a flower you think best represents your aunt as the center piece, maybe something to contrast the white and yellow in the flowers?" Michael proposes. Peter turns to take a good look at the shop but his eyes bring him back to the flowers he was looking at before they had begun their search. The bleeding heart was a pink flower shaped like a heart its stem was a deep red making look like its rightful name. The colour would serve as a great addition to the white and yellows of the other flowers they had picked.
The name reminded him of May. It reminded him of how she poured all her love attention towards him, how she always wanted to look for the root of the cause. How despite everyone leaving him she was the constant that stayed, the only family grounding him.
“The bleeding heart flower, I think that best suits her” He stated.
Michael nods “Good Choice, you’ve got a great eye for this stuff huh?” He rhetorically asks winking for the second time as he walks towards the last section plucking 3 of the several flowers on display. Peter wonders if this is just the regular customer service or if this treatment was just for him. He can't help but hope it is.
They walk to the wrapping center left to the main counter, and begin wrapping the flower, well Michael mostly.
Peter watched as he skillfully wrapped it, his brows frowning in concentration. And there was the light again, this time a beautiful sunset colour shining on him, his eyes turning a light brown under it. Peter can’t help but to stare.
Michael treats each of the flowers lightly with the utmost respect making sure to keep their arrangement and structural integrity.
A small grin graces his features as he admires his work. Too busy to watch Peter admire him. He smiles up at Peter, and Peter bashfully looks away caught in the middle of his staring. They walk towards the counter as Micheal rings him up.
“34.50 is your total but..” He says smiling up at him with a wink “I’ll give you a small discount, you know, cause this is your first time” he says adding a discount to the machine. Peter watches as the number is rung down to 20.00 on the dot, and smiles shyly at him.
He drops a 20 making sure to hide a 10 in between it. “It won't be my last, that's for sure,” he smirked the boldest thing he had said their whole time together. Michael hands him the bouquet
“I hope it won’t be..” he trails
“Peter, Peter Parker” replied, turning back slightly.
“Alright then see you next time, Peter” he says. Peters heard his name before but this time the sound is sweeter than the honeysuckle in his bouquet.
“Bye Michael” he chimes as he walks out the New York air bringing him back to reality. He might as well have been in a trance, engulfed by the brown eyes man’s beauty.
He watches from the window as Michael takes in the next customer, not without looking back at him, waving a small goodbye. He waves back as he starts the walk to his aunt's apartment staring at the flowers. He notices a small piece of paper on the outside flap of the wrapping and pulls it out.
‘XXX-XXX-XXXX - MJ’
He smiles down at the note. It definitely won’t be the last time he visits the flower shop.