Chapter Text
No matter what anyone else says, Roblox is not just a kids game!
Sure, it has a predominantly younger player base, but that DOES NOT mean only kids played it. In fact, Minho could name at least two adults who play it on a regular basis! And did one of them include himself? Yeah, okay! And the other was his best friend, Felix? Yes, but that’s not the point. The point is…!
Well, the point is that Minho was getting bored (and low key uncomfortable) with how many actual children he was interacting with on a daily basis. Scratch that, he was getting high key uncomfortable.
“Maybe you should just not play it anymore,” his so-called best friend unhelpfully suggested.
Minho blinked at his dear friend. “You play it too.”
“Yeah,” he huffed, tucking a lock of his blonde hair behind his ear, “but I play it in, like, an ironic way.”
So that led them here. To Discord.
One could argue it’s not much better, but beggars can’t be choosers.
The server promoted itself as an ‘adults only, no minors allowed’ server for people who enjoyed the game and wanted to play with others their age. It was actually pretty decent: …, had separated vcs for those who speak different languages, and was not totally full of middle-aged pervs like he’d been expecting.
No - instead of middle-aged pervs, it was people like:
- Bang Chan, the slightly older Aussie man who flickered between the Korean and English chats,
- Seo Changbin, the extremely loud man who never knew what was happening but somehow always won,
- And last but not least, Han-
“JISUNG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, SHE’S COMING THIS WAY! RUN!”
Han Jisung. The whiny, bratty loser who, despite having the most hours in the game out of everyone, did not know how to play whatsoever.
“AHHHHH, HYUNG SHE’S COMING!!”
He always begged to play…
“HYUNG, SAVE ME! SHE’S GONNA KILL ME, SAVE ME!”
… and somehow always…
“HYUNG!!! AHHH SHE GOT ME!!”
…ALWAYS …
“I died. I’m down, she got me.”
… loses.
A low groan leaves him, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. The movement forced his headphones back, Jisung’s whines still echoing from the speakers from where they were now loosely hung around his neck.
“Hyung, why didn’t you save me?”
Minho can practically hear the pout in his voice.
Han Jisung. The whiny, bratty loser who was bad at Roblox. Also known as the love of Minho’s life.
He took a second to laugh to himself until the whines got too much. He slipped his headphones back on, no point in torturing the boy.
“Jagi, you ran right into her path,” he hummed, his fond smile obvious through his voice, “What could I have done to help you?”
Another even louder whine was the only response, quickly accompanied by a humph. He was sulking again. Adorable.
Minho blinked, huffing softly as his character continued to run through the litany of school hallways. The game Jisung had begged him to play tonight was a simple horror game, something to do with evil teachers and collecting items? He wasn’t too sure what he was doing, but given how quick Jisung already died he didn’t think they would be playing it for much longer, anyway.
The two of them had met on a random afternoon. Jisung was already online and playing with his friends when Minho joined the call and asked if they had room for one more in the game.
The two had hit it off immediately. They matched each other’s freak in a way that caused headaches for anyone else playing with them and since then they have been inseparable. They messaged everyday for hours at a time - not just on discord but also other platforms, having swapped socials pretty early on.
All of a sudden, Jisung had become a part of his everyday life. It had gotten to a point that if he hadn’t heard from the other boy for a few hours it was very concerning.
However, despite their closeness they still don’t know a lot about each other. Minho knows his name, knows they’re roughly the same age, and that he’s Korean. Other than that, he knows very little about the other man.
Well that’s not entirely true. He knows the important stuff - like he knows Jisung’s favourite dinosaur (Diplodocus), he knows his go to karaoke song (), and he knows what food he gets when he’s sad (mint choc chip ice cream). It’s more of the identifiable details he’s missing.
He doesn’t even know what Jisung looks like.
But none of that was important to Minho. He knew what he needed to, and knew enough to know that he was down bad.
………………….
The day of the first bouquet was just like any other.
The sunlight danced upon the soft petals of the flowers that decorated the store, filtering through the wide front window. The air was stifling, far too warm and humid for comfort; sweat trickled down his brow as he carefully re-arranged this custom order bouquet for the fifth time.
He liked working here. It was calm, peaceful; with the only exceptions being around Valentine’s Day, or during graduation season. There was something energising about being surrounded by flowers every day, with their bright colours and strong smells - plus it paid decently, so really what was there to complain about?
He’d been working there for only a few months when he’d first met Jisung, so hadn’t ever felt the need to tell the other boy about his job - not to mention the whole ‘no identifying details’ aspect of their relationship. He had no idea if the other boy had any interest in flowers - he sighed as he gently readjusted the tulip he’d been playing with for the thousandth time - but he had a sneaking suspicion he would like them anyway.
Everyone likes flowers, after all.
A ping from his phone shattered the peaceful silence of the store.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to receive messages throughout the day, but they were usually all from one person. Raising his head to scan the - notably empty - room, he decided to risk a glance at the message, a spike of excitement racing through him as he realised he was right when he guessed who it was.
However, instead of the usual delight that usually painted his face upon receiving a message from Jisung, Minho’s lip and brow stitched into a frown. Jisung hadn’t just messaged, he’d sent a picture.
Jisung had sent a picture of a bouquet of flowers.
A shiver ran through his body. There was no way the other boy had any way of knowing what he’d just been thinking about, but it sure was coincidental timing regardless. Jisung had no way of knowing he worked in a flower shop, yet he sent it anyway.
He frowned. Why had Jisung sent it to him?
He clicked out of the photo, going back to their messages.
M/nkn0w
???
The response only took a few seconds to come in.
H@nsterrrr
Aren’t they pretty, Hyung?
M/nkn0w
They sure are
Who bought you those?
H@nsterrrr
I did!
Minho blinked slowly, staring at the screen. Huh?
M/nkn0w
Huh?
Wym?
H@nsterrrr
Well ya see I’ve always wanted flowers!
But no ones ever got me them before
And I just aced by music theory test so I thought
Why not?
You know?
Minho’s frown deepened, his heart torn between being relieved that no one had gotten his Jisung flowers and angry because why hasn’t anyone gotten his Jisung flowers?
Without responding, he clicked back onto the picture, examining the bouquet closely. It was a pretty bouquet, but very simple; likely a default, pre-made one that all stores offered. Minho could make it with his eyes closed. The boy deserved something better, something more personal - a bouquet just for him, to show how special he is.
Staring ideally, a stray thought floated in his mind. I wonder if he’ll ever come here.
He shook his head, picturing a thousand elephants all smashing the thought with giant, inflatable hammers.
There was no point in going down that line of thought; letting himself foolishly get his hopes up only to be disappointed. He doesn’t even know where in Korea Jisung lives, not to mention that even if he was based in Seoul, the store Minho works in is slightly outside the centre, so it’s not one people tend to stumble onto. So really, logically, Minho knew there was next to no chance of Jisung ever accidentally ending up at this particular store.
Despite this, he couldn’t help a small part of him, no matter how silly he felt, from hoping he would still come. Who knows?, he thought, before the angry herd of elephants came trampling back.
He quickly shot Jisung a reply before focusing back onto the bouquet in front of him, refusing to let his thoughts stray from the task. However, if the bouquet ended up completely different from the request, far more suitable for a certain online whiney boy, then that was between him and the (very angry) customer.
………………….
A few weeks had passed with very little fanfare.
They continued messaging every second of every day, they continued playing Roblox for hours a day every day, Minho continued being in love with a faceless voice through his headphones.
There did NOT continue to be flowers.
They hadn’t talked about it since Minho’s - albeit blasé - response. That hadn’t stopped him thinking about it, however…
Minho’s character grunted as he jumped from one platform to another, barely making it to the next save point before the timer ran out; he had miraculously found himself in the last round and was now determined to win. Jisung, however, had failed out at round one, so now the other boy was sitting on the call, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and providing a running commentary for Minho as he continued to get further and further in the game. It had been like that for at least thirty minutes; Minho was silent as he concentrated, Jisung was chattering away in his ear. It was a grounding drone of noise, one that he definitely noticed when the other boy suddenly grew quiet.
“Jisung?”, he asked, before cursing quietly as his character fell from the platform, failing him out of the game. Sighing, he leaned back from his PC with a flex of his fingers - they ached from hours of usage - and waited for a response. When none came, he tried again.
“Jisung?”, he asked, “Are you okay?”
A sudden, loud splutter came through the mic.
“W-what? Oh, oh, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m okay!”, he muttered, talking faster than an auctioneer about to land a big win, “Er- did- did you win?”
Minho blinked. “No? Did you not see me die?”
Jisung cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, no, I did. I just thought that was… a different time.”
He blinked again. Huh?
“A different- huh? Jisung, wha-”
“So, did you see what the mods put on the server?” Jisung asked, the sentence coming out rushed like he was to be executed by a higher being if he didn’t say it fast enough.
Minho blinked again. Jisung was acting strange. He frowned, shaking his head slightly before responding. “Er, no? No. What’d they say?”
“Today’s national selfie day…”, the other boy replied, “and, erm… well they’re encouraging people to send their selfies to the server if they feel comfortable. Something about ‘getting to know a new side to each other’ and ‘growing closer’...”
Minho snorted. “Sounds like a ploy to find potential kittens.”
He relished in the light laughter that echoed through his headset, grateful that the other boy appeared to be easing up. After another moment of silence, Jisung spoke again.
“Sooo…”, he paused.
“So?” Minho encouraged, his eyebrow ticking upwards at the sudden awkwardness between them. They’d never had difficulties speaking before, what was going on in Jisung’s head?
“Sooo…,” he tried again, “a-are you gonna do it?”
He blinked again.
“Do what?”
Jisung scoffed. “Post a selfie. Duh.”
Oh.
Oh.
If he posted a selfie, Jisung would know what he looked like.
If Jisung posted a selfie, he would know what he looked like.
Excitement raced through him.
“I will if you will!”, he cried, practically shouting down the mic.
The line was quiet for a moment, the exclamation hanging between them, before softly - oh so softly - Jisung replied.
“Okay.”
Minho felt his heart jump to his throat. “Okay?”
“Mhm,” was the only response.
A heavy breath slowly escaped him. “Okay. Erm- okay, let me just…”
“Yeah… me too, I just need-”
“Yep!”
They both went silent as they each desperately scrolled through their camera roll for a suitable picture. Minho cursed to himself - why the hell did he not take more pictures? All of his selfies were either from a stupid angle or gym selfies - and he was NOT gonna be that asshole. He had been scrolling for a few minutes, slowly losing hope - was he gonna have to take one now? But he was sweaty from work and had cheeto dust around his mouth! - when Jisung made a tiny noise down the line.
“Oh,” he gasped, softly, “Channie posted.”
Curious, Minho switched back to the server, searching for his older Aussie friend, when he saw-
“Damn!”, he gaped.
Chan had in fact been ‘that asshole’. The selfie he’d posted was of two extremely built individuals, one much shorter than the other, clearly still in a gym - most likely after a workout if the darkened pits were anything to go by. Sweaty pits aside, they looked good. The taller had blonde, curly hair with a larger nose and dimples, whereas the smaller had dark, shaggy hair with arms big enough to be mistaken for tree trunks. Both men were incredibly hot; a feast for the eyes for a gay man like Minho. Now that’s a sandwich I’d like to be a filling for, he thought absentmindedly. His eyes flickered up to the message attached to the picture.
W0lf_Ch4n97
Me and @Dw3akki_B last week. Two for the price of one, lol >.<
Minho’s eyebrows shot up. That’s Chan and Changbin?? Damn!
“That’s Chan and Changbin?”, he whistled, “Daaamn! I didn’t know they knew each other irl!”
Jisung hummed softly. “Yeah… they make music together, I think.”
“Huh,” Minho mused, scrolling through more of the feed, taking in all of the new faces before stumbling upon a familiar one.
“Oh, Felix posted too.”
“Huh?” Jisung cried, “Where? Wait, let me- WHAT?! THAT’S FELIX?!”
Minho laughed loudly, head thudding against the pillowed headrest of his chair. “Yeah… he’s a model, so.”
The other boy just grumbled down the line. “Let me guess, you’re probably a model too, huh?”
He scoffed, clicking back to his own pictures. Since Chan had posted a gym selfie for himself and Binnie, it was fine if he did too, right?
“Decide for yourself, Jagi”, he giggled before humming softly to himself. He desperately needed to see what Jisung looked like, and fast. He had imagined their whirlwind romance so many times now, it would be nice to actually have a face to put to focus his fantasies on. Minho wasn’t a vain man, he didn’t care what Jisung looked like - he was already too far gone for that to matter at this point - but it sure would be a bonus if he was cute. He’s gonna be cute, he thought to himself, He sounds like he’s cute.
He goes back and forth, debating with himself for a moment, before asking, “Do you wanna do it at the same time?”
Jisung is quiet for a moment before replying. “Do what? Send the selfies?”
Minho just hummed.
“O-okay,” the younger man squeaked, “… yeah, that could work. H-have you picked yours?”
Minho hummed again, looking down at the picture he’d taken a week before, immediately after a session at the gym. It was a full body shot; he was posed in front of a large mirror, the angle highlighting the definition of his arms, while the shadow emphasised his jaw and thighs. He looked good, and he knew it. He just hoped Jisung thought so too.
The boy in question cleared his throat. “Okay g-good, me too. Do you wanna send it on three?”
Minho hummed for a third time, this time accompanied by a small nod… not that Jisung could see the difference.
A slow exhale echoed through his headphones.
“Okay… okay. Right. Okay… Okay, one…”
He couldn’t help but smile at the boy's awkward stuttering. “Two.”
Another exhale of breath, this one much harsher than before. “Three.”
Minho hit send, watching anxiously as the circle completed itself, showing him the picture had sent. Anxiety crashed through him as he watched his picture join the gentle stream, focused on himself for a only a moment before another picture loaded and-
Minho couldn’t breathe.
The newest picture in the chat was of a young man, tanned, with the biggest, widest brown eyes and the softest round cheeks. His hair was longish and shaggy, stray strands sprinkling his forehead, the ends of which tapping at the thick black frames of his glasses. He was looking directly at the camera, face squished up into a pout with a small hand pushing up one of those chubby cheeks. He was adorable. He was … He was -
“Beautiful…”
Except that hadn’t come from him. He blinked once - twice - eyes slowly re-focusing on the world beyond the breathtaking mousy boy on his screen. His eyes flickered up, and - low and behold - above the photo was the handle ‘H@nsterrrr’... this really was Jisung… he was so much more beautiful than he had ever imagined.
He was beaten to the chase to say it, however as just as suddenly as the picture had appeared it disappeared again. Minho blinked; unless Discord had introduced a new ‘magical disappearing act’ feature, Jisung must have deleted the picture.
Minho isn’t ashamed to admit that the sound he made was not unlike a small, wounded animal. “Jagi- Jisung, wha-?”
“Hyuuuuung,” the younger man whined down the line, “why didn't you tell me you were so pretty? That was so embarrassing!”
The ‘pretty hyung’ in question had never been so confused in his life. “Jagi, where did you go? I was just looking at your pretty face? Then suddenly I wasn’t? That was you, right? With the cheeks?”
Another, far louder, whine came echoing through before the line suddenly went dead.
Minho blinked harder than he had the whole night. Jisung had never acted like this before. What the fuck is happening?
Instinctually he clicked call once again, it only taking half a second to connect.
“Jagi?” he cried, distress clear in his voice, “What is happening?”
“Hyung, I’m so mad at you!” Jisung cried back, equally distressed… for some reason. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
For a moment, Minho genuinely questioned whether he had been teleported to an alternate reality where nothing made sense, and people spoke in tongues and got mad at you when you didn’t understand what they were saying.
“TELL YOU WHAT?”
“THAT YOU WERE SO PRETTY!” Jisung whined, his voice slightly muffled as though he was covering his face, “It’s embarrassing!”
Minho looked around his room bewildered, desperately hoping that by some miracle the random Gundam figures or his ‘Sonic’ bobblehead might hold the answers for what was happening. When they inevitably failed, he turned back to the phone. “How is that embarrassing?”
“Because,” the mousy boy wept, his pout evident in his voice, “... you saw me. YOU saw me… And that’s, like, SUPER embarrassing for me…”
Like a lightbulb illuminating a dark room, suddenly everything becomes clear. Like a secret of the universe had been whispered to him, suddenly everything made sense. Like months of knowing someone had finally paid off.
Jisung was self-conscious.
He didn’t have time to decide his next action, his instincts already deciding for him; determination burst through him like a tsunami, his brain flatlining as his mouth moved quicker than his rational thought.
Like the blinding beam of light that shot out of a hero during their finishing moves, Minho yelled at the top of his lungs, “JISUNG, I LOVE YOU!”
The line went silent.
His mouth kept running, desperate to chase away the quiet.
“I’ve loved you for a while, so, like, you could’ve looked like anything and I would’ve thought you were beautiful. But then- then you went and looked like the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Your cheeks? And your eyes? And-”, his eyes slid closed as he pictured the face he only saw for a few seconds, “- your lips … God, Sung, your lips looked just as soft as I imagined them to be and- Jisung you’re so beautiful. Please let me see you again. Please?”
A sob wracked down the line and Minho felt his heart seize. He knew he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.
“And I-I’m so sorry if what I’m saying is making you uncomfortable, but you need to know how beautiful you are, Sungie”, he took a deep breath, “Both inside and out- you know, before we met I was scared no one in the world would ever understand me. People try, but no one truly gets me- I’m a little too far off their wavelength which is fine! But then I met you and you just… got me. You understood how I am, and like me even though I’m weird-”
“But I like weird-,” Jisung protested. It was the first thing he’d said in a few minutes, his voice noticeably raw from crying.
Minho smiled, laughing softly. “And I like you- no, I love you. I love you, Jisung.”
Sniffles were his only response, before a small, cracked voice muttered, “I love you too, idiot.”
A thousand titans wouldn’t be a match for Minho when those words finally sunk in; he felt like he could fight the entire universe. Jisung loved him back. It felt right, natural. The two of them had clicked from the moment they first spoke, of course they were meant to love one another. It was fated.
He couldn’t stop the giggles from escaping him, his hands covering his face as he laughed and laughed, elation and relief flooding his body. He heard Jisung laughing with him down the line, and for a few moments that was just how they were - laughing and full of joy and completely and hopelessly in love. Minho couldn’t believe how lucky he was.
He took a moment to catch his breath, the joy of the moment radiating through him as he listened to the mousy boy on the other end slowly even out his own breathing. God, he thought, I bet he’s beautiful while laughing. I want to see him again. He sat up, brave from the successful confession. He wanted to see Jisung again. Cautiously, as if approaching a frightened animal, he asked, “So… even if you don’t post it to the server, please can I see your beautiful face again?”
Despite his caution, Jisung simply laughed loudly. “I can do you one better!”
Before Minho knew what was happening, his discord pinged and all of a sudden his screen was filled with the round cheeks, pouty lips, and wide puffy eyes of his favourite hamster. He rushed to quickly turn on his own camera in turn, his mind bluescreening as he absorbed the other boy's beautiful features. Jisung had a little mole on his cheek that reminded Minho of a stray drop of chocolate, the fluffiest flop of hair spilling over his forehead - just like in his selfie, except he was missing the glasses-, and multiple piercings littering his ears matching Minho himself. He blinked rapidly, mouth slightly agape as he regarded the other man who, in turn, regarded him back. The man was surprisingly quiet as he took in Minho’s features through the screen, and Minho couldn’t help the slither of worry run through him that he hoped the mousy man liked what he saw.
After a second, Jisung beamed brightly. “Hyung…? ”
The older man smiled, “Hi, Sung-ah.”
There was an evil twinkle in Jisung’s eye, a sight that sent shivers down his spine - a sight he couldn’t wait to get used to.
“Hyung,” the mousy boy repeated, “you have cheeto dust around your mouth.”
“WHAT?” he squawked, desperately rubbing at his mouth. Curse his gay ass! He had been so caught up with the pretty boy he forgot why he couldn’t take the selfie right then!
Jisung laughed up a storm as the older man grabbed the closest cloth, rubbing around his mouth until he was certain he was in the clear - even then, he checked his reflection a number of times to be safe before going back to the call. His focus returning to his phone, he quickly realised that he was right; He is so beautiful when he laughs.
Smiling fondly, he muttered, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Jagi.”
He watched with delight as the other man's face grew bright red at the nickname. He groaned loudly, covering his face with his sweater paws. “Ah, seeing you say that is so much more… ahhh… than just hearing it.”
Minho smirked. “Yeah? You flustered, baby?”
“Hyung!”, the younger man whined, dropping his phone on his lap as he hid his blushing face. The ‘Hyung’ in question just threw his head back, laughing loudly at the other man’s misery.
“Sorry, Sung-ah.”
The line went quiet again as Jisung tried to calm himself down, already embarrassed by his reactions. Minho just watched him. God, he thought, he’s so beautiful. I don’t think I could ever get used to this sight.
“I can’t believe no one has bought you flowers, Sung-ah”, he mused aloud.
The other boy froze, squinting through his fingers before dropping his hands entirely. “Oh, er… yeah, I don't know… I guess no one wanted to.”
“I want to”, he replied quickly, sitting up straight - his expression suddenly deadly serious, “in fact, what’s your details? I’m gonna send you the money for it right now.”
Jisung squawked, grabbing his phone and bringing it far too close to his face. “Hyung? What the fuck, no! You don’t have to do that!”
“I want to,” he repeated, before a cheeky idea sparked in his head, “Is it wrong to want to spoil my pretty boyfriend?”
Another squawk echoed through the speaker, “Boyfriend?”
Minho smirked, getting the exact reaction he wanted. “Yeah… you are my boyfriend, right? We did confess our love after all!”
The other boy was bright red once again, spluttering loudly, unable to get his words out.
Minho continued, not allowing Jisung to catch up. “I mean, I had assumed that meant we were boyfriends, but I guess if you don’t want to” - he took an exaggerated breath in, faking a weepy voice - “I guess I’m just gonna have to try my hardest to get over you!”
“No!” Jisung cried, panicked.
“No?”, he teased.
“No! Yes! Boyfriend! Yes, boyfriend, yes… I am your boyfriend, mhm”, he spluttered, using all of his brain power to get even a single sentence out.
Minho smirked, “Okay… so, give me your details, you’re getting flowers.”
Jisung whined loudly but did as he was told, and within a few moments he was ₩100,000 richer. Before he could protest, Minho continued talking.
“Get yourself a proper bouquet from a good store, not a pre-made one from the corner shop, okay?” Even as he said this, a spark of hope shot through him at the thought of the other boy stumbling upon his store. Perhaps he was manufacturing the situation to increase the likelihood of their meeting, but hey… who could blame him? If it works he gets his cutie hamster boyfriend in his arms, if it doesn't then he simply facilitates said hamster boyfriend getting a decent bouquet of flowers… seems like a win/win to him.
The other boy reluctantly agreed, clearly unsure of how to react to the sudden money but not refusing it. “Sure, Hyung. I’ll pick out a really good florist, I promise.”
Minho hummed happily, satisfied that the boy would finally get the bouquet he deserved, and hopeful that maybe… just maybe.
………………….
Maybe not.
Jisung had bought himself a bouquet - a pretty one with good cohesion and a general message of luck and resilience. And he had not bought it from Minho.
Despite the clearly high quality of the flowers, Minho had made up some bullshit about ‘oh, those are bad for allergies’, and had successfully convinced Jisung to get another bouquet when that one had wilted - sending him the money to cover it, of course.
When Jisung had notified him of yet another bouquet not bought from Minho, he pulled the same stunt (‘those primroses next to the poppies, that combo means death’) and sent the money for another one.
And another one.
And another one.
And another one.
And an-
“Hyung, I can’t keep buying flowers for myself”, Jisung whined when Minho tried to convince him once again, glaring at the pretty, yellow bouquet currently residing on Jisung’s kitchen table.
“But you aren’t buying them,” he protested, “I am.”
The younger man rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, Hyung. Plus, I’m running out of florists nearby.”
“Then go somewhere not nearby”, he retorted, but he knew Jisung was right. Even after a few months of dating, Minho still hadn’t told him about his job. He was unsure of exactly why, maybe the excitement that came from the idea of discovering each; of stumbling into each other's lives like they were always meant to. But Minho still didn’t even know where he lived, if they were in the same city. There was a chance he was sending Jisung on wild goose chases with no chance of meeting, and yet he could stop himself from hoping. One more, he thought to himself, if I can get Jisung to get one more bouquet, and if he doesn’t come to me then I will tell him myself.
The younger man scoffed loudly, forcibly dragging Minho back into reality. “Sure, hyung”, he muttered, “let me just carry a massive bouquet across three trains and buses, no sweat.”
“Come on, Jagi”, he whined, hamming up his pout, “I just want you to have a good one! Just one last one! Pick the best florist you can find in your city, and let me buy you one last bouquet! Then I will never bother you about it again!”
Jisung hummed, clearly considering it. After a moment, he sighed, defeated. “Okay, hyung. One more!”
Minho cheered, fist bumping the air, startling a laugh out of the younger man who slowly shook his head.
“I didn’t know you were so into flowers, hyung”, he teased lightly. Minho just smiled, shrugging in response.
Oh, if only you knew, he thought, if only you knew.
………………….
The day of the ‘one last’ bouquet was just like any other.
The store was cold and damp, the sky outside grey with sprinklings of rain. His fingers felt claggy as he continued to work the soil in the back room, preparing to pot up the new plants they had only received earlier that day. He liked when they had deliveries, enjoyed the mindless care that went into prepping the pots and soil, pruning and trimming the plants so they were ready to thrive, sometimes even taking cuttings for his own growing collection at home.
The store had been quiet for most of the day, very few customers coming through, allowing Minho unbroken time to daydream of his life when he finally meets his precious hamster boyfriend. I wonder if he’s gotten that bouquet yet, he thought idly to himself, probably not, he usually shows me when he does. I hope he does soon, my heart rate jumps every time I hear the bell.
As if summoning the thought into existence, the bell sounds out loudly, signaling a customer. Minho groans, removing his hands from the pot and desperately searching for a cloth to clean his hands.
“Just a moment!” he called, wiping his hands on his apron after failing to find a clean cloth. Oh well, he was only gonna touch more flowers.
He grumbled as he made his way out to the front. “Hi, welcome to Blooming Dreams, I’m sorry for your wait. How can I help y-”
Cheeks. That was the first thing he saw. Then eyes- big, wide, brown eyes that gazed at him with disbelief and wonder behind chunky black glasses. And then lips, perfectly agape.
For all the hours he had spent fantasising about the possibility of Jisung stumbling into his store, a part of him never actually thought it would happen. But here he was. Here. In front of him. Right now. Jisung. Here.
“Jisung-”, he gasped. His feet moved without his permission, stepping towards the other boy who had yet to say a word, or to even react. He just stared at him. Then, all of a sudden, he started crying. Bawling, more like. Big, fat tears rolling down his soft cheeks. Minho was moving before he knew what he was doing, suddenly in front of the crying boy, his arms hovering awkwardly at his sides unsure if he should hug him or not.
“Oh-”, he started, cringing at his awkwardness, “Jisu- no, it’s okay baby, there- there’s no need to cry! What’s wro- oof”
He blinked and suddenly there were arms around him and dark, fluffy hair tickling his nose. Instinctively, he hugged Jisung back, curling around the younger man as he wept.
“H-hyung-”, he sobbed, the first thing he’d said since arriving, “hyung is- it’s really you?”
Minho smiled softly, tilting his head to place a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. “Yeah, Jagi”, he hummed, “it’s me.”
If Jisung had the strength to pull away, he would have hit the other man at that moment. “I can- is that why you kept wanting me to- you knew! You knew I would find you!”
“I didn’t know,” the older man laughed, “I just hoped.”
Another sob startled out of the hamster. “Minho-hyung, I can’t believe you. I’m so mad.” In contrast to his words, he nuzzled his nose even deeper into Minho’s shoulder, as if he were trying to bury himself beneath his skin.
Minho laughed brightly. He held the other boy for a long while as he sobbed, gently cooing and swaying him as he did. The weight of his love in his arms was one he wanted to keep with him forever.
Afterwards, he will finally make Jisung that bouquet he’d been thinking about for months. Afterwards, he will give it to him with a smile and a blush, taking his time to explain every little detail. Afterwards, when their hands brush and their cheeks are stained with tears, Jisung will lean up and offer him a shy kiss, one he will dive into like a starving man.
All of that is yet to come. But for now, he simply holds the man from his phone, and swears to himself to never, ever let him go.