Summary: Gavin has had a crush on the schools star quarterback Ryan ever since his freshman year. What happens when the two suddenly become lab partners for chemistry class?
Warnings: None PG (It’s really just fluff out the ears.)
WordCount: 1,627
Being one of a handful of foreign students in a high school in the middle of Texas was never easy. It was made slightly easier for Gavin given the fact he was white, but it still was no walk in the park. You constantly felt like the new kid, like you never really fit it. Luckily for him, he had managed to make a few good friends his Freshman year.
Michael, the hot headed boy from homeroom who he quickly learned was the aggressively affectionate type. The two quickly became best friends, slowly adding onto their group as the year went on. First came Lindsay, Michael’s girlfriend, who was the group's wild card and resident cat lover. Last, but definitely not least, was Jeremy, the rising star offensive lineman for the school's football team who always seemed to have a different hair color every game.
In all it was a pretty good little group of friends. Sure he still missed his friends back in England, but these guys made it easier. It had been two years now, and the four of them were just about to start their Junior year. Gavin was excited, what with being one year closer to graduating. He was not prepared however, for the surprise that would meet him in chemistry class.
Chemistry class was one of the few classes with assigned seating, mostly because who ever you shared a table with would be your lab partner for the rest of the year. The last person Gavin expected to be sat down on the stool next to his was Ryan Haywood, the football teams starting quarterback. To say Gavin was panicking a bit would be an understatement.
It was fairly common knowledge that Ryan was pretty smart, when you were athletically inclined and had impressive grades it’s generally taken notice of. So it wasn’t that Gavin was worried he’d end up having to do all the work. No, the real problem is that Gavin had the biggest crush on Ryan, and Ryan was leaps and bounds out of his league.
The crush started shortly after the first school game Gavin had gone too in Freshman year. Being from England, Gavin wasn’t all that interested in American football. But in the interest of supporting their new friend Michael, Lindsay, and himself decided to start going to the home games. After that first game they all went to, there was a party, nothing to big or existing, just a bunch of the players and their friends taking over a local pizza place. Jeremy had invited the three of them along.
Something about the way Ryan interacted with everyone at the party drew Gavin to him. He was so kind and laid back, not to mention he had an adorable laugh. Gavin often kicked himself for not going up to talk to him that night before the crush really took hold. He never had gotten the courage up to talk to him since, but now here he was. Sitting at Gavins assigned desk, looking handsome as ever in his letterman jacket, reading some paperback Gavin couldn’t see the title of.
Gavin was nearly frozen in place, but when several of the still filtering in students nearly ran him over, he was forced to move towards his seat. He took his seat gingerly, and slowly started to pull out the book he would need for class. He glanced over at the other, taking in his features, his kind of shaggy blond hair and his steely blue eyes.
Ryan glanced over at him, putting his book away now, and smiled. Gavins heart nearly lept out of his chest at the sight. Ryan raised his hand and offered it to the other. “It’s Gavin right? I’ve seen you hanging around with Jeremy. I’m Ryan, it’s nice to meet you.”
Gavin raised his own hand to shake the others, cursing internally the way it shook slightly. “H-Hi,” He managed to squeak out, blushing and clearing his throat before going on, “Hi, yeah it’s great to meet you too.”
Ryan chuckles, a litting sounds that make Gavin irrationally happy a light feeling. “I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner, Jeremy talks about you all the time,” He comments idly.
Gavin feels the slightest bit of panic trickle up his spine. Jeremy knew about his crush on Ryan, had been pushing him since he found out to talk to Ryan. Did he tell him? Jeremy was his friend, he wouldn't do that….would he?
Seeming to see the distress Ryan chuckled again, “Don’t worry it’s nothing bad. Mostly about how you’re into filmography. Sucks there's not a film club in this school, hu?”
Gavin could feel his face grow warm as he silently apologised to Jeremy for thinking he’d betray him like that, and thanking him for talking him up to Ryan. He nodded shallowly struggling to get words out, “Y-yeah. It would be great to have a film club. But I guess I’ll just be content with making dumb videos on my phone.”
“You should show me those videos some time, if they’re half as great as Jeremy makes them out to be they’ve got to be pretty epic. I’d love to see them,” Ryan responds without missing a beat, practically grinning at the other.
It’s then that the bell rings and the teacher stands and begins class. Gavin struggles to pay attention for the rest of the class, to focused on trying to act normal. His heart rate feels like it’s through the roof and he can feel the warmth of Ryan sitting next to him. It’s very distracting. When class is over all the students start to pack up there books and head to the various places they’re expected next.
Ryan is finished gathering his things first and before he leaves he hands Gavin a torn piece of paper. “I’d love to stick around and talk some more but I’ve got practice. Here’s my number, text me later,” he tells him with crooked smile that Gavin thinks might be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He gingerly takes the piece of paper from Ryan's hand, almost as if afraid if he is too rough with the strip of paper that contains the most important string of numbers in Gavin's young life, it’ll disintegrate.
He stands there with what has to be the dopiest grin of his life for a good minuet before frantically digging out his phone to enter the others number. He wasn’t going to text him just yet, yet, but heaven forbid he lose the precious number. Having to ask for the number again would be positively mortifying. With that done, Gavin left to meat up with his friends.
Later that evening Gavin lay in bed, writing and rewriting what was gonna be his first text to Ryan. Nothing sounded right, either too cringy, desperate, casually, or a combination of the three. He lay with his phone resting on his chest, glaring up at the ceiling, as if the textured plaster was keeping the answer to his dilemma from him.
He sat up eventually and picked up his phone, trying once again to compose an aproperiet text.
‘Hey Ryan, it’s Gavin.’
So far so good Gavin thought to himself as he continued on.
‘So this is my number….’
Ok no, backward progress there. How about….
‘How as practice?’
Good, good, showing an interest without being creepy. It just needed one last touch.
‘Looking forward to having you as a lab partner.’
Before he could psych himself out of it again Gavin quickly hit send and tossed his phone aside, face planting into his pillows. His face felt hot, and he had only sent a short text, three sentences for Christ sake, what was wrong with him. When his text tone went off he sat bolt upright, scrambling for his phone. The message was from ryan.
‘Hey, I was wondering when you’d text. Practice was good, thanks for asking. I’d ask you your something was but I don’t know what sort of stuff you do after school.’
Gavins was shaking, the amount of adrenaline coursing through him from a stupid text conversation was ridiculous. But Ryan was interested in what kind of stuff he did after school. As he was trying to steady his fingers enough to type out a reply, his phone went off again.
‘I’m looking forward to being partners with you too.’
And with that, all the progress Gavin had made to calm himself was gone. He flopped onto his bed face first and let out a string of high pitched bird like noises. It was stupid to be this giddy over a stupid text, but he was. Ryan was just as nice as Jeremy and his daydreams made him out to be. Even as he thought it, Gavin cringed a little inwardly, thinking he sounded like some love sick girl from a teen romance movie. He did finally manage to get a reply out to the other thought.
‘I dragged my friends Michael and Lindsay to the park to film this stupid idea I had. Do you know them?’
It wasn’t long before a reply came.
‘Not personally. Jeremy talks about them too thought. What was the idea? Can I see the video?’
Gavin debited for a few minutes if he should send the video to him. It was pretty dumb and immature. He finally decided against it, at least for now.
‘Just teenagers being dumb and immature. Maybe I’ll show it to you later.’
‘I’d like that.’
There conversation lasted for a little while longer, and when Gavin finally turned out the lights to go to sleep, he had a huge smile on his face. I had a pretty good feeling about this year.
Author's Note: So this is way shorter than I wanted it to be, and ended way sooner than I wanted it to. But your in luck, because I plan on continuing it with another chapter or two (maybe more, depends on how long it takes to get to the ending I wanted). Once all the gifts are posted I’ll be uploading this on my AO3 under the same title (username is TaraInNotRed). I hope you’ll check out the rest of the story!
Summary: It was supposed to just be a quick run to the convenience store for beer and kolaches. Ryan never expected to run into a alien, let alone bring that alien home, have him join the Fake AH Crew, or fall for him.
Warnings: PG 13, vaug mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, swearing.
WordCount: 1,628
It was dark, cloudy, wet, cold, and Ryan had no idea why he had agreed to be the one to go out on a beer run. He didn’t even drink. ‘It was loud,’ he reminded himself as he pulled the leather of his jacket tighter around his body. The lads had just gotten a new horror game for Halloween, and had some how convinced Geoff to play it while everyone watched. So the penthouse was latten with screams, and as much as Ryan loved hearing people scream, he needed a break.
Ryan had intended just to go to the corner store at the end of the block, but Geoff suggested that he go to the one on the other side of town and get kolaches too. He was going to refuse but the minuet the Lads heard the name of the pastry they were practically chanting for them, so he relented and went.
It wasn’t as nasty of weather when he had left, so he had decided to walk. A bad decision on his part seeing at not a short distance away, the weather had decided to go gray and wet. He could have turned back and gotten his car, but if there was one thing The Vagabond of the Fake AH Crew was not, it was a quitter.
He finally made it to his destination, and went in to purchase the beer and kolaches, taking perhaps more time than was needed to let warmth seep back into his fingers before he headed back out. Leaving the convenience store be began to make his way back to the penthouse, but was stopped short by a sound in a dark alley he passed.
Curious, Ryan turned down the alley to investigate. He was highly unprepared for what he found. There, laying in a pile of garbage, was a man wearing snug bright orange and purple clothes, with hair to match, looking a little like he had dropped from the sky. He looked around, trying to see if there was anyone else there, before cautiously walking up to the seemingly unconscious man.
Suddenly the man sprag from the garbage and to his feet, a bright smile on his face and fists ressting on his hips, his whole stance screaming bravado despite being rather short. Ryan jumped, hand instinctively going for his gun, pulling it out and leveling it at the other. Absently he mentally patted himself on the back for not dropping the kolaches and beer. The strange man turned to Ryan, and seemed to be unfazed by the gun pointed at his head.
“Greetings earthling!” The man said, and Ryan just about fell over. Either this guy was a nut job, or this was by far the weirdest day of his life…...Well maybe not weirdest, but top five for sure.
He could hardly stop himself from saying, “What the actual fuck.”
The ‘alien’ continued as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “I am Rimmy Tim! I’ve come to this planet to test my skills in combat!” As he spoke, he voice turned cocky, and his hair turned from the garish orange and purple to just purple.That was what convenience Ryan that this was real...or at least a very elaborate dream.
“Well you seem to have come to the right place,” He said, lowering his weapon but not putting it away. He didn’t know what it was about this guy, maybe the way he carried himself, or his own curiosity about this maybe alien, but he liked him. But that name, it would just not do. “If you want to hang around you’re gonna need a normal name,” He told him.
“I have prepared for this event,” Proclaimed the man, his hair changing back, “I have chosen the human name Jeremy.” Much better, Ryan nodded to himself. He finally put his gun away in his belt, and turned to leave the alley.
“If you want to test your skills around here, you’re gonna need a crew. I think I have just the place you’d fit in. Come on,” He says. The other seems to brighten up at the idea, hair turning bright summery yellow. Jogging after him, Jeremy kept pace with him all the way back to the penthouse.
When they entered the apartment Ryan called out, “Jack! I found another one!” Cheering could be heard from the lads, while Ryan could only imagine that the other two gents were sighing heavily.
The rest of the evening went strangely, but in all well. Jack was happy, all things considered, to have another odd duck joining their ranks, and took most of the new information in stride. Geoff was having a bit of a existential crisis at the realization that ‘holly fuck aliens are real’. The lads took to the whole situation immediately, Gavin and Michael instantly adopting the seemingly similarly aged otherworldly man into their ranks.
In all Jeremy, who still insisted that his moniker be ‘Rimmy Tim’, adjusted well to life on earth. He still dressed in way to bright orange and purple clothes, and had taken a liking to cowboy hats to hide his changing hair color.
Ryan had grown to find this little oddity about Jeremy quite charming. It made reading the other easy, and Ryan had made mental notes about what some of the colors ment. Purple and orange was the basic color, but it turned a sunny yellow color when he was happy. When it was a dark rusty red he was angry, royal purple when he was feeling cocky, and neon green when he was jealous and envious. He saw it less, but when he was scared his hair turned a gray silvery color, and if he was sad it was a pale blue. Only once had Ryan seen it turn fully black, and he was glad for that, because it turned that color shortly after he had been shot and injured heavily.
The color Ryan liked seeing most thought was pink. It was a bright hot fuchsia color, and Jeremy's hair lit up with it when he was around Ryan often. As far as he could tell, it meant love, or affection at least. Perhaps even passion, he couldn’t be sure. At first Ryan had felt a little guilty about this pretty obvious crush Jeremy had on him. At first he was convinced that the only reason he had feelings for him was because he had been the first human he had met. But as time went on and the crush seemed to linger, Ryans fears about this seemed to fade away.
His concern now was less about if his returned feeling for the alien would be taking advantage of him, and more of the fact he was an alien. He had no idea what kind of courting customs the other was used to, and he really didn’t want to overstep his bounds or do something that might be considered normal for humans but intensely rude for whatever race Jeremy was. Ryan didn’t even know if Jeremy’s people had a concept similar to ‘dating’.
He had vented his conflicted feelings and anxieties one morning over coffee before any other of the crew was up and awake. The bearded man had listened patiently before bluntly telling him he was a ‘spinless pussy who needed to just go and ask the poor love sick ET out already’. Ryan had taken great offence to this, and had gone as far as not speaking to the other man for the rest of the day, before realizing he was acting like a child and that Jack was in fact right.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or so Ryan told himself as he stood nervously outside of Jeremy's room a few days later, having finally worked up the nerve to ask the other on a date. It was pretty embarrassing, Ryan thought to himself, The Vagabond, getting all worked up and flustered over a guy. Stealing his nerves, he lifted his hand and knocked on the Jeremy’s door.
Some noise was heard from the other side, and some cursing, a habit the alien had picked up from Michael. He still sometimes used the words in the wrong context, but Ryan thought it was cute personally, watching the man call inanimate objects slut for seemingly benign reasons.
Soon the door opened and Jeremy stood on the other side, and Ryan absolutely did not start to panic internally, forgetting everything he had planned to say. Jeremy’s hair took on a slight pink hue to it as he smile. “What’s up Ryan?” He asked the other brightly, “Do you need something?”
Ryan struggled for a few moments to form words in his head, nerves getting the better of him for a moment before he managed to spit out a sentence that sounded somewhat intelligent and not like half strangled sounds of a dying animal. “Uh hi, yeah. Well I was uh….I was wondering if you wanted to maybe uh…..go out with me some time?” Ryan said, mentally fist pumping because he didn’t stutter, even if he did flounder for words a bit.
Suddenly Jeremy’s cheeks turned a bit pin, his hair turning a darker fuchsia. “L-like a date?” The shorter squeaked out. Ryan wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction, but he had come this far and wasn’t about to wimp out now.
“Yeah,” He said, ashamed of the slight bit of squeak his own voice took on. The other hair began to change color, mixing yellow and pink to make a brilliant sunset effect. Ryan thought it looked amazing, and mentally filed away the information that that could happen in the first place away.
Jeremy practically beamed up at the other, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Summary: The plan was flawless, the Heist perfect, Ryan was certain everything was going to be fine. Until Jeremy got shot.
Warnings: Mature, gang violence, small amount of angst, fluff, kisses and cuddles, language
WordCount: 2868
"Everybody hit the fucking deck!"
The shout that came from the Maze Bank entrance was followed up by the loud report of gunfire. The civilians inside screamed and fell to the floor, cowering as they caught sight of Los Santos' most notorious gang.
The Fake AH Crew!
The smaller man who'd initially yelled stood at the bank entrance smiling down at the crying, trembling civilians as his companions rushed in and set about their heist. His aviator glasses hid his eyes but they could almost see the glint of joy and satisfaction there. His white Stetson sat atop his head like an eagle on a cliff, his ridiculous orange shirt, purple blazer and yellow slacks a reminder to all that Rimmy Tim didn't give a fuck about fashion.
"Gavin get on those cameras and get security down!" shouted a tall man in a nice suit. Several of the hostages swallowed in fear as they recognized the Kingpen of the city, Geoff Ramsey and leader of the Fakes.
"On it Geoffrey!" a younger man with dirty blonde hair cheered in a British accent as he vaulted over the bank counter, shoving a teller out of the way and set up a laptop, quickly typing away at the keyboard.
"I'm in, the police haven't been alerted yet and the banks security system is down," Gavin smiled at his handiwork.
"Great now move your ass and help us maintain these hostages while Geoff and Vagabond get the vault open!" another young man with curly red hair shouted at Gavin as he pointed his rifle at one of the hostages who whimpered in fear.
"Micoo, Team Nice Dynamite boi!" Gavin smiled as he joined Michael "Mogar" Jones as the two began ziptying each of the hostage's hands together.
"Yeah boi! Hey, bet I kill more cops than your dumb ass!" Michael chuckled.
"Bet you can't!"
Geoff rolled his eyes as he looked to Rimmy Tim who gave a nod to say that he would handle anything on the ground floor and keep the two bickering lads out of too much trouble. He ran past Michael who tossed him a duffle bag he'd filled with explosives and paused his bickering with Gavin to give Geoff a glance.
"I expect some of that to still be in there when you get back," he said darkly and winked. Geoff smiled and nodded before dashing down the stairs in the direction of the vault. The fifth member of the heist followed, the hostages scooting as far away from him as they could, his reputation as the most vicious killer in the state prominent in their minds. The Vagabond, the faceless mercenary who had a higher kill count than he could even remember. As he walked by Rimmy Tim he paused and glared down at two of the hostages who he'd noticed were staring at him in fear. Their faces went pale at the sight of the black skull mask he wore facing them, emotionless.
Vagabond crouched down in front of them and tilted his head slightly. Slowly he pulled out his knife and played with it close to their faces, the hostages whimpering and sobbing in fear as they begged with their eyes and shook their heads.
The Vagabond chuckled darkly as he stood and placed a hand on Rimmy Tim's shoulder tenderly.
"Ryan please, the hostages are staring," Rimmy Tim whispered quietly to Ryan "Vagabond" Haywood so that the hostages couldn't hear his name, blushing slightly. Ryan chuckled and leaned closer.
"A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep Jeremy," he whispered back using Rimmy's real name. The two shared a smile before Ryan pulled away.
"I'll be back soon dear, try not to have too much fun up here without me," he said aloud and smiled. Even though he wore the mask Jeremy knew that Ryan was smiling, something about the way his icy blue eyes pinched up at the ends. Jeremy smiled back and shrugged as he reached down and slapped Ryan's ass.
"No promises buddy!" he said. The two laughed, which caused the hostages blood to run cold. Ryan ran after Geoff down the stairs and shot at a security guard that was aiming his pistol at Geoff's back. The Kingpen whirled around and saw the body falling to the floor.
"Nice shot Ryan!" he smiled his thanks, Ryan nodding as the two continued to make their way to the vault. With Ryan standing guard, Geoff went to work setting the charges, backing up around the corner and giving Ryan a fist bump as he detonated the charges. When the smoke cleared Geoff darted in and began filling another duffle bag he'd brought with him with money, Ryan following suit, the duo working quickly.
"Shit! Geoff we got pigs!" Michael's voice called through their comm earpieces, along with the sounds of sirens, gunfire and Jeremy's laughter. Geoff glanced at Ryan who smiled proudly.
"That's my Battle Buddy!" he said causing Geoff to roll his eyes.
"We're almost done here, hold em off for a few more minutes and then get the fuck out on my mark!" he ordered Michael.
"Got it boss," Michael called.
Gavin covered the hostages while Jeremy and Michael shot out the doors of the bank at the cops parked on the street, the LSPD who refused to return fire in case they hit one of the hostages.
"Like shooting fish in a barrel!" Jeremy laughed.
"And the best part, I'm getting WAY more kills than Gavin!" Michael laughed.
"Oi, just you wait you pleb! The heist isn't over yet!" Gavin whined from his spot.
"Yeah but this contest is!" Michael laughed as he put a bullet through the head of another cop who was dumb enough to stand up out of cover.
Rookies! Jeremy thought. That's when he noticed that one cop was hanging back from the main group.
That's strange, why would he be out there? Why is he holding that rocket launcher? Oh shit! That's a rocket launcher! he thought as he watched the cop load the weapon.
"Rockets!" he yelled as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and cartwheeled to the right, his old acrobatics training kicking in as he landed on his feet and immediately sprang into a back handspring with the momentum, pulling his pistol out of its holster as he backflipped and took a shot at one of the cops and landing the shot perfectly before landing and putting as much distance between himself and the bank entrance. Michael darted to the left and dove behind some cover just as the explosion rocked the front of the building, sending dust and chunks of concrete flying everywhere, the hostages screaming and diving for cover.
Gavin squawked and dove behind the front desk as another rocket hit, closer this time, blowing the doors into the building; hostages screaming and scrambling to get out of the way. The force of the second rocket exploding sent Jeremy sprawling to the floor, the shorter man rolling to the side just as a heavy piece of concrete landed where his head had just been. Peeking over the edge of the desk, Gavin saw the LSPD moving in.
"Guys we've got incoming!" he shouted as he leveled his golden gun and started dropping cops left and right. Michael not one to be outdone, especially by the Brit, raised himself to a knee and also started firing.
"Fuck you popo!" he shouted. Jeremy stood and pulled the pin from a grenade and tossed it to the entrance where the cops were.
"Geoff we have a situation," he said into his comm.
"What kind of situation?" Geoff asked worriedly. The grenade exploded and Jeremy activated his comm again.
"That kind," he said. He heard Ryan giggling which made him smile and Geoff groan.
"Fine! We're done here, time to haul ass!" he said. Jeremy confirmed and darted over to Gavin, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Geoff says time to bug out bud," he said.
"But I haven't caught up to Micoo yet!" Gavin complained. Jeremy rolled his eyes.
"Have fun dealing with your fucking kill count while we leave your dumb ass behind then," he shrugged and vaulted the desk as Gavin let out an indignant squawk, firing several shots and landing each one, the cops dropping like flies.
"Michael time to pull out!" he called.
"That's what she said!" Michael grinned. Jeremy groaned and was about to make a snarky reply when he felt white hot pain rip through his thigh and then his left shoulder as bullets struck him. Crying out in pain Jeremy collapsed to the floor and rolled behind cover beside Michael to avoid any more shots.
"Mother fucker!" he shouted as he propped himself up with a groan.
"Lil' J!" Michael yelled and crouched to check on Jeremy.
"That fucking slut! How am I supposed to play Xbox now you son of a bitch?!" Jeremy groaned in anger, his Bostonian accent started to emerge, but managed a painful smile to show Michael he'd be okay.
"Geoff we need to go now! Jeremy's been hit!" Michael yelled into his comm as he stood over Jeremy and took out the fucker who'd shot him.
"Jeremy's been WHAT?!" Ryan shouted.
"Fucking calm down it's not too serious but he needs a medic, we just gotta get the hell out now!" Michael shouted back.
"Let's go!" Geoff called and Michael looked up to see the two gents emerging from the stairs, Ryan whipping out an RPG, his prized baby which he dubbed "Darci" for some god-forsaken reason, out of nowhere and took aim, sending a projectile streaking towards the cops. Bodies flew and blood went everywhere, clearing a way for the Fakes. Ryan immediately rushed to Jeremy who was clutching his leg and shoulder and gritting his teeth in pain. Without hesitation he scooped the smaller man up in his arms and rushed to the door, the others following close behind.
"Merry Christmas motherfuckers!" Michael cheered as he tossed two explosives behind him, one in the bank with the hostages and one as he passed the cop cars, detonating both.
"Was that really necessary boi?" Gavin asked smiling over at Michael.
"No witnesses Gavvers!" Michael yelled as he turned to fire at the remaining cops behind them.
"Jack we need evac now!" Geoff called into his comm as the group darted down an alley, Gavin and Michael covering their retreat and Ryan carrying both the duffle bag of money and a protesting Jeremy.
"On it Geoff!" Jack's voice replied.
"Hold on Jeremy we'll get you help! Hang in there baby!" Ryan said worriedly.
"For fucks sake Ryan I'm not dying I just got nicked!" Jeremy groaned out through gritted teeth. They came to a halt at the end of the alley as a limo screeched to a stop in front of them. The window rolled down and Jack Pattillo's bearded face appeared.
"Get in fuckers!" he yelled. The group dove in as Jack hit the gas and took off, weaving through the streets of Los Santos, Michael and Ryan dropping proxi mines out the windows to block their escape, all the while Jeremy groaning in pain as Geoff and Gavin did their best to keep him still and stop the bleeding.
They made it to one of their safe houses, Geoff calling ahead to B-Team to have medics standing by to meet them. Ryan didn't even wait for Jack to come to a complete stop but scooped Jeremy up and flew out the door, running quickly into the safehouse and taking Jeremy to the medics.
"We'll take him from here, you need to wait. We'll let you know when you can see him," Caleb said gently but firmly when Ryan tried to follow the group of medics as they wheeled Jeremy into another room. Ryan growled dangerously but Caleb was unphased, glaring into Ryan's eyes with zero fear.
"You want Jeremy to recover? Then stay out of the way and let us do our job! We won't let anything happen to him Ryan, I promise he'll be okay!" he said.
"He'd better be or so help me Caleb they'll never find your remains!" Ryan snarled.
"Noted," Caleb said and turned to follow his team. Ryan stood there for a minute suddenly feeling very helpless and scared. The adrenaline from the bank heist began to die down and Ryan felt himself start to tremble with worry. A hand fell on his shoulder suddenly and he looked to see Geoff standing there with a reassuring look on his face.
"Hey, he'll be okay. C'mon and sit down while you wait. I'll stay here with you," Geoff said softly and guided Ryan to a nearby table and sat him down in a chair, pulling one up beside him and sitting next to his friend.
Minutes passed into hours and Ryan grew increasingly worried and impatient, fidgeting and then eventually pacing. Geoff wouldn't allow him to leave though, kept telling him that everything would be okay, that Jeremy would be fine.
"I don't hire mediocre medics to take care of my Crew Ryan. I only trust the best of the best to take care of you idiots," he said. Ryan nodded miserably and hung his head, trying not to fall apart. Jeremy had to be okay! Geoff made him eat some pizza and drink some Diet Coke, making sure Ryan took care of himself. He remembered what Ryan was like after what happened to Ray, a ghost of who he'd once been and he didn't want to see the man go through that again. It had been a hard time on every member of the Crew, but it had hit Ryan the hardest, the man refusing to eat and barely sleeping.
Finally Caleb walked back in with a smile on his face and said that Jeremy was perfectly fine and that Ryan could go back to see him. Ryan offered Geoff a thankful look and then dashed off in the direction Caleb indicated. He slowed as he reached the room, walking into the room and up to the bed, taking off his mask and dropping it on a nearby chair as he did. Jeremy lay there, sitting up and waiting for him, a smile lighting up his face at the sight of Ryan.
"Rye Bread!" he said happily. That was the breaking point for Ryan. His eyes filled with tears as he fell to his knees next to Jeremy, slowly reaching out and grasping the lad's hand in both of his.
"I thought I was going to lose you. I couldn't lose my moon and stars," he said softly, face wrinkled in pain and tears fell down his cheeks, his face long since cleaned of the paint. Jeremy smiled and pulled Ryan over to sit on the bed beside him.
"I wasn't hurt that bad buddy, and Michael had me covered. And thanks to you I got here before I lost too much blood. I'm okay Ryan, I'm safe," he said gently. Ryan sobbed, leaning in and hugging him, pressing soft desperate kisses to the lad's head and face, tears rolling down his cheeks. Jeremy hugged him back and made soft comforting noises as he rubbed Ryan's back, holding him tightly.
"C'mere," he said after a minute and scooted over on the bed, patting the space for Ryan to lay down with him. Ryan hesitated but when Jeremy said he was okay again and gently coaxed him he got into the bed beside the lad and cuddled up next to him.
Jeremy wrapped his good arm around Ryan's shoulders and pulled him close, his injured arm he used to hold one of Ryan's hands, rubbing it soothingly with his thumb. Ryan lay his head against Jeremy's chest, grateful for the warmth of his body and the peaceful sound of the lad's heart beat as he trembled, every now and then he hiccuped.
"Hey, I'm not dying on you okay? We're the fucking Battle Buddies, we take care of each other," Jeremy said looking down at Ryan with a smile. The gent looked up and sniffled leaning up and kissing Jeremy.
"Battle Buddies, forever," he spoke their favorite saying as he began to calm down.
"Battle Buddies forever. I love you Rye Bread," Jeremy said and kissed the top of Ryan's head, giving him a little squeeze.
"I love you too Jer Bear," Ryan returned with his favorite nickname for Jeremy and buried his head against Jeremy's chest, hugging him tighter, almost afraid that if he let go he'd lose Jeremy forever.
"Hey, you wanna know something?" Jeremy asked. Ryan looked up, his beautiful icy blue eyes searching Jeremy's chestnut brown ones.
"Hmm?" he hummed.
"When I get better, we're gonna fuck for a week!" Jeremy said and waggled his eyebrows. Ryan laughed and hugged Jeremy again.
"Looking forward to it dear," he said as he leaned up and kissed Jeremy again. The lad returned the kiss before resting his cheek against the top of the gent's head. The two fell asleep like that, cuddled up to each other in a tight embrace, both thankful to have the other.
Summary: Come One Come All To The Masquerade Ball! Once again it is that time of the year. Time for the annual New Year’s Eve fundraising ball at The Grand Rooster Theater And Opera House. The theme of this year’s ball is ‘Masquerade’. Come dressed to the nines, ballgowns and tuxes and masks, for a night of mystery and intrigue. Tickets are $20.00 each, all funds go to the theater. Can you find your friends amongst the faces of paper and lace?
Warnings: None (Rating G-PG)
WordCount: 1,698
Paper Faces On Parade
Come One Come All To The Masquerade Ball!
December 25th, 1946
Once again it is that time of the year. Time for the annual New Year's Eve fundraising ball at The Grand Rooster Theater And Opera House. The theme of this year’s ball is ‘Masquerade’. Come dressed to the nines, ballgowns and tuxes and masks, for a night of mystery and intrigue. Tickets are $20.00 each, all funds go to the theater. Can you find your friends amongst the faces of paper and lace?
Mica read the announcement in the paper on Christmas morning. She went to the ball every year, having been a lover of the theater since she was a little girl, her father an actor himself. The Grand Rooster Theater And Opera House had been where she had seen her first play, and she was a proud supporter of the establishment.
The theme of the year sounded exciting, romantic even. The mystery and excitement of meeting people, having no idea who they were, fleeting romances and such. She was excited to say the least.
Blaine read the same paper on Christmas evening, sighing at the announcement. His family were friends with the family that owned the theater, so he went to the annual ball every year. That fact alone was a cause of dread for Blaine.
Normally he wouldn’t mind a party, a chance to get out, dress up, and have a good time. But a Ball was a different story, primarily for the reason that he had never learned how to dance. Which meant he was resigned to standing to the side like a wallflower the whole night. He was not looking forward to it to say the least.
Over the next several days before New Year's, Mica busied herself with finding a gown for the occasion. She was able to find a lovely dress, a pale blue color with small darker blue butterflies stitched into the elegant flowing fabric. Her mask was a similar color with butterfly wings coming off of one side. She looked fantastic if she did say so herself.
Blaine managed to find something for the Ball just in time, after procrastinating for far too long. He wore a simple black shirt and pair of pants, with a dark red and black paisley vest, and a black cape. His mast was black on one side, with a red swirling pattern, and the other side was red with a black swirling pattern. Blaine thought he didn’t look half bad for his last minute choice in clothing.
The night of the Ball came and as soon as the sun fell people of all sorts with costumes of all kinds started flocking to the theater. Inside there was a band playing on one of the ballroom’s balconies, with one of the well known opera singers occasionally gracing them with a song.. There was a large spread of food and drinks to be had, and of course dancing in spades.
Mica entered the building looking around in wonder at the grand hall and the elaborate decorations that covered every wall and pillar in the room. All around her there were people dancing and laughing and having a grand time. The energy of the room was infectious and the costumes were gorgeous.
She wandered the hall, looking to see if she recognised anyone, speaking to anyone who’s costume or mask caught her attention. She danced with strange men and women, spinning around the room to the lively music, a smile permanently plastered onto her face.
Blaine arrived to the party and was instantly impressed when he walked inside. The decorations gave the room a sort of life it was usually void of. It seemed as though people were coming out of the woodwork, figuratively swinging from the rafters. He wondered if there would be literal swinging from the rafters by the end of the night.
He made his way through the crowd, stopping to chat with a few people here and there. The music was lively and upbeat, the kind that made you feel tingly all over. It made him wish he could dance, the floor looked so alive with the moving bodies in a variety of bright colors and materials. He was sure he had never seen this many feathers in his life.
But still he ended up in his usual spot, against the wall with a drink in his hand. He sipped it quietly as he people-watched. Most didn’t pay him much mind, too engrossed in the party around them to notice the single person who wasn’t in the crowd.
There was one person though who kept locking eyes with him, thought only for a moment each time. His eyes followed her as she flitted around the dance floor. The pale blue of her dress a stark contrast to her dark skin. She looked like some sort of fairy with all the butterflies on her dress and Blaine found her breathtaking.
There was one man, Mica noticed, standing off to the side nursing a drink. Her eyes kept going back to him. He seemed happy, but she wondered why he wasn’t joining in with the festivities. Her fixation on him could also be in part to the fact that he was quite handsome. His dark clothes made his blond hair and hazel eyes stand out. Mica was certainly captivated.
She was going to talk to him, she decided, because why not? It was a masquerade, a time for mystery and daring. She weaved her way through the crowd, grabbing a drink on her way to him.
Blaine was surprised when the fairy woman made her way over to him through the crowd. He stood a bit straighter as she reached him, smoothing out his waistcoat and trying his best to look presentable.
“What’s keeping you over here all by yourself blondie?” She asked teasingly, leaning back against the wall next to him. “Mind if I keep you company?”
Blaine’s brain froze up for a moment before he was able to re-engage his mouth. “You’re more then welcome to, though I wouldn’t dare try and keep you from the fun Ms. Fairy,” he told her with a smile, trying to be smooth, but probably just succeeding in sounding awkward.
Much to his relief though she started quietly laughing. She nodded her head saying, “You’re definitely not keeping me from the fun. Would you maybe like to dance?” She asked him with a bright smile and tilt of her head.
The strange man in the corner, who Mica had dubbed ‘Blondie’ seemed to stiffen a bit when she asked him to dance. Maybe he thought it was improper for a woman to ask a man to dance and if so she could just walk away, nothing lost.
“Well….I would,” Blondie started slowly. “But...Well I never learned how to dance.”
It took all of Mica’s strength not to start laughing there and then. Not because she thought it was funny that he didn’t know how to dance, but the way he acted about it was cute. He grew a blush on his face as she held back her laughter.
‘This is so embarrassing,’ Blaine thought to himself as the beautiful woman next to him tried desperately not to laugh at him. Surely she thought he was pathetic and was about to walk away without another word.
“I could teach you how to dance,” she said after getting her laughter under control. Blaine was surprised she was even still speaking to him, let alone offering to teach him to dance. He was hesitant, he had nearly broken the foot of the last person who tried to teach him how to dance and he definitely did not wish to repeat the experience, especially with a woman as beautiful and delicate as she was.
Mica smiled at him before taking his hand and starting to pull him onto the dance floor. “Don’t worry about it so much,” she told him over her shoulder when they reached a large enough break in the crowd for them to stand.
She pulled him close, taking his right hand with her left and placing his left hand on her shoulder. She rested her right hand on him. It was a little awkward considering how short she was, but the two of them made do.
“Stand on my feet,” she told him seriously, and Blaine almost broke away from her completely in astonishment.
“I don’t want to hurt you Ms. Fairy,” he told her. “I’m so much bigger than you, I’ll break your feet.”
“Not your whole foot Blondie,” Mica corrected herself. “Just the front of your feet covering the front of mine, you’ll rest your weight on your heels.”
He was still uncertain but slowly complied. It felt even more awkward, and Blaine felt as thought he was forced to bend his knees.
“Eyes up and look at me,” Mica instructed the other, before beginning to move, “And 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.” She moved gracefully around the room as he followed her steps. The two of them danced together, smiling, laughing and making small talk well into the evening. The whole ordeal was far more fun then Blaine had ever thought it would be.
Then the announcement came from the balcony that it was nearly midnight. It was time for the countdown. The two stopped dancing, looking up to the balcony as everyone prepared for the count down to the New Year.
The two smiled at each other, softly. The countdown began.
10.
9.
8.
7.
6.
5.
4.
Mica reached up and pulled on Blaine’s collar bringing him down to her eye level.
3.
Blaine reached a hand up to rest on Mica’s cheek.
2.
1.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Came the shout from around the room as Mica and Blaine's lips met in a gentle kiss. As the two parted and the festivities continued around them they knew it wasn’t just going to be one night of dancing.
“Think I could persuade you to give me another dance lesson, Ms. Fairy?” Blaine asked the other with a small laugh.
“I think that could be arranged, Blondie,” Mica replied, smiling brightly.
Flores A Amoris Lingua - Flowers Have A Language Of Love
Author: http://tarathemun.tumblr.com/
Recipient: http://ryangaywood.tumblr.com
Summary: Flowers have a language all their own, one that Ryan is fluent in. So when he starts wearing a collar with flowers into work, Michael knows it means something, and he is determined to find out what.
Warnings: None (Rating G-PG)
WordCount: 1,762
Flores A Amoris Lingua - Flowers Have A Language Of Love
(Author's Note: Thank you to Ali-Th3-Ch3shir3-Kat and their fic ‘If lost please return to:’ for the inspiration for this fic.)
Ryan had been at the flower shop from the first day Michael had started working there. He had showed him the ropes, trained him on what flowers were best for what occasion, how to best put together arrangements, and a lot about what flowers ment.
To say Ryan was fluent in flora was an understatement. The man spoke flower better than he did English most of the time. So to see him wearing something with flowers on it, aside from some God awful Hawaiian shirts he wore in the summer, that didn’t have a personal meaning, was unheard of.
So when Ryan showed up for work one day wearing beautifully crafted collar, with golden daffodils and red tulips embossed into the black leather, and a camellia buckle holding it all together, Michael knew instantly it meant something. But Michael was far from as good at reading flowers as Ryan, so he didn’t know what, and it was kind of bugging him.
Normally he wouldn’t pay much attention to if Ryan wore something with flowers or not, except for the aforementioned eyesores, but this was different. Not only was it obviously custom made, it was also very prominent. Like Ryan was trying to use the collar to send a message, even if it was one most couldn’t understand.
Despite Michael’s limited knowledge he knew one thing, red tulips were used as a declaration of love. Was he trying to say he loved someone? Had someone given it to him as a gift? Michael didn’t know, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it pissed him off.
When he had first started working at the flower shop Michael had had a sort of school boy crush on Ryan; what with the older man's sandy hair, deep blue eyes, and open and friendly personality. But that’s all that Michael had thought it was, just a crush that in the months following had seemed to fade away.
But when Michael thought of the possibility of someone else confessing their love to Ryan, or of Ryan loving someone else, it stirred him up inside. It made him sad and angry in equal measure, an aching in his chest every time the thought popped up in his head. He couldn’t really deny his crush on the other any longer, not when every time he saw that damn collar, the urge to punch something rose up inside him.
So Michal set about his research. The internet helped a lot, but at the same time gave a lot of mixed messages. So many flowers had multiple meanings, it was hard to pick out which one Ryans collar was trying to say.
He started with the other flower on the collar itself, the daffodil. There were a couple of possible meanings for that. One meaning was ‘unrequited love’ which would fit if Ryan was trying to tell someone that he love them. On the other hand another meaning was ‘you’re the only one’ or ‘the sun is always shining when I’m with you’. That one would make perfect sense if someone had gifted him the collar as a confession. The one Michael really didn’t get was the buckle, the camilia. For the most par it meant ‘admiration’ and ‘perfection’. He supposed it would be appropriate if it were a gift, but at the same time he was sure there were flowers out there that could have said it better. But then he found it, and it all clicked into place. He found a sight that gave another meaning for camellias, ‘a gift given to a man’ .
With that knowledge it was undoubtable, someone had given Ryan that collar. Some one had confessed their love to him, and considering the fact that he was wearing the collar, Ryan had accepted their feelings, and more than likely even returned them. That thought alone left Michael laying awake that night with a heavy weight in his chest and tears stinging at his eyes.
Seeing Ryan and his damn collar the next few days was hard. It was a constant in his mind, always in the back of his mind torturing him. He had to know who had done it, who it was that had stolen Ryan's heart. For purely noble reasons, such as making sure they were going to treat him right, and totally not to try and undermine and sabotage their relationship.
They both had the next Saturday off, and thush Michael began to hatch a plan. Michael had been looking for someone to try and get the co-op campaign achievement in Gears of War 4, and considering that Ryan was as equally a big fan of the series as him, it was the perfect excuse to have him over.
Michael brought it up to him rather casually towards the end of the work day Thursday, and at the assurance of snacks and plenty of diet coke, Ryan agreed. Even if he wasn’t sure how he was going to go about asking him about the collar, he still had gotten the man to agree to come over to his apartment, which was a step in the right direction.
Saturday rolled around before he knew it, and Ryan showed up at Michael's place at the bright and early hour of half past 10, wearing of course his ever present collar.. He had even brought some too greasy fast food breakfast which the two scarfed down as they set up the game.
As the day passed on, junk food eaten and game played, Michael seemed to forget completely about the collar and the real secret reason for inviting Ryan over. That was until about 6, when the two decided to to take a break from playing to order some dinner.
As Ryan perused his extensive collection of delivery menus, Michel could not stop staring at the collar. He managed to distract himself long enough to actually order the food, before going back to join Ryan on the couch. Working up his nerves Michael finally asks.
“So uh,” He begins slowly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now but I’m curious, who’s the collar from?”
“Huh?” Ryan asks dumbly, having been distracted by his phone for a moment. “Oh! The collar,” He says, finally catching up to what the other had asked him, “No one got it for me. I had it made for myself.”
“Really?” Michael asked, confused and at the same time almost relieved. This meant he still had a chance, at least somewhat. “But I thought camellias were...oh fuck what did the sight say, uh….gifts for men or something?” He asked still unsure.
Ryan chuckled and smiled at the other, “Yeah, they do. It’s supposed to be a pink camellia, which means ‘longing for you’, but sadly the only buckle I could find was silver.”
Michael nodded in understanding. So if it wasn’t a gift, then that meant that it must be a message, a silent declaration of love. “So then you’re using it as a message right?” He asked him, trying to make sure he wasn’t completely off.
“Yup,” Ryan replied simply.
“So you’re trying to tell someone you love them?” Michael asked again.
“Yup,” Came the simple response once again.
“So who is it?” Michael questioned, bracing himself for the sting of hearing the name of who ever it was that had stolen Ryan's heart.
“You,” Ryan said, smiling softly at the other, eyes slightly glazed over with affection.
“Oh, ok,” Michael said absently, a pre-canned answer he had prepared to avoid saying something stupid. That was before Ryans response really sunk in. When it did Michael spun on the other, eyes wide, blinking owlishly as he pointed dumbly to himself, as if asking if he had heard right.
Ryan simply nodded his head, the same glassy look in his eyes. Michael turned and looked at the wall, still looking dumbstruck. After a moment he finally opened his mouth saying, “Well….that went better than I expected it to.”
Ryan laughed softly, and awkwardly rubbed at his neck, “Well I mean, I get it if you don’t feel the same, was kind of why I tried the subtle route.”
“No no no!” Michael jumped to assure the other, “I do, I do feel the same it’s just….man I’ve been so worried these last few weeks that someone had given that collar to you and that you were dating someone else. I thought I had completely missed my chance.”
Before long the two both dissolved into laughter, leaning on each other as the humor of the situation overtook them both. “Well, I’m glad that it’s all worked out for us now,” Ryan said, resting his forehead against the others.
“So am I,” Said Michael with a smile, reaching up a hand to rest against the other's cheek, “Would it be too soon if I kissed you?”
“Not at all,” Ryan responded, leaning in and kissing the other, slow and soft. The two continued kissing, breaking rarely for breath. They probably would have spend the rest of the night kissing in the same position had there not been a knock at the door.
When Michael answered it, there was some young kid, probably barely old enough to even have a job, standing there with there order. “Uh, meat lovers pizza and an order of breadsticks?” He asked, taken aback by the irritated look on the older man's face.
Michael payed the kid, giving him a $20 tip, both because he was feeling generous and because he wanted him to get out of there faster. Setting the food on the table, he turned back to Ryan. “So,” He began, “We could eat….or we could go back to what we were doing before?”
Before he knew it, Ryan was pulling him by the waist into the taller man's arms. “Well, I’ve always been a fan of the idea of dessert before dinner,” Ryan said with a smirk, leaning down to start kissing the other again.
A few weeks later, Ryan came into work wearing a different collar. This one was similar to the other in style and crafting. This time thought, it was covered in red chrysanthemum, forget-me-nots, daisies and orange blossoms, all held together with a buckle in the shape of a single full rose blossom.
The collar was once again sending a message, but this time it was very clear to Michael. This collar meant that Ryan was in love, and that he was loved in return.
(The meaning of the flowers according to thelanguageofflowers.com.
First Collar: Camellia - Admiration, Perfection, Good Luck, Gift Given To A Man | Camellia (Pink) - Longing For You | Daffodil - Regard, Unrequited Love, You’re The Only One, The Sun Is Always Shining When I’m With You | Tulip (Red) - Believe Me, Declaration Of Love
Second Collar: Chrysanthemum (Red) - I Love | Daisy - Innocence, Loyal Love, I’ll Never Tell, Purity | Forget-me-not - True Love, Memories | Orange Blossom - Innocence, Eternal Love, Marriage And Fruitfulness | Rose(Single Full Bloom) - I Love You, I Still Love You)
Summary: Jack spend most of the oceans at his Grandmothers by the ocean. But when she passed away, he couldn’t bring himself to have the same love for the ocean he had once had. But when he’s forced to stay at the ocean, he meets a merman who brings back his love for the sea.
Warnings: Mentions of death, fish people. (Rated G-PG.)
WordCount: 2,333
Under The Boardwalk
As a little boy, Jack had loved the ocean. The sand between his toes, the calming sound of the waves, the smell of the salty air. When he was a child, Jack spent most of his summers with his Grandmother, who owned a little home on the beach in Texas where he would build sand castles and go swimming. He had loved every minute of it.
The key word being had. When his grandmother died when he was in high school, the ocean changed for him. Instead of being a happy place of fun and laughter, all the salty air brought him was melancholy memories. Jack tried to get over it, he really did, but he just could never quite get back to enjoying being at the beach. In the end he decided it was just for the best to avoid the beach as much as possible.
But he couldn’t really do that now. Not when his best friend Geoff was getting married, of all places, on the beach. It made sense, his fiance Griffin was the type of artsy person who liked the dramatic romance of a sunset wedding on the beach, surrounded by tiki torches. And in thought it was an amazing idea. It just meant that as Geoff’s best man, he had to spend way more time at the ocean then he would like.
The wedding was being held in a small seaside town, and instead of doing a bachelor and bachelorette party back in Austin, as a thank you gift Geoff and Griffin had decided to pay for the wedding party and a couple others to stay in the town for a week before the wedding. Despite his lack of desire, and being the best man, Jack couldn’t really say no.
He thought to himself, maybe this is what he needed. It had been a long time since his grandma's passing, maybe he could finally find his peace with the ocean. He hopped so, because even as him and Geoff drove into town, he could feel the sadness and unease settled in on himself. Geoff could tell he was uncomfortable, and gave him a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.
When they made it to the hotel, the first thing Geoff did was disappear, presumably to find Griffon who had come out the day before. With a heavy sigh, Jack went up the the front desk and checked the two of them in. They were technically sharing a room, he and Geoff, but the likelihood that the other man would actually spend any time there was slim.
Sure enough, come that night Geoff was nowhere to be seen. He’d probably have tie him up the night before the wedding to keep him away from Griffin, lest they fall prey to the proverbial bad luck of the groom seeing the bride before the wedding. Jack tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. The sounds of the ocean, while to some were peaceful and easy to fall asleep to, just made Jack restless.
Getting up from his bed, and pulling on his clothes, Jack decided to go for a walk. He left the hotel and found himself walking down the path to the beach. The night was peaceful, not a cloud to be seen, stars much brighter out here then in the city with all the light pollution, a half moon hanging in the sky.
He made it to the boardwalk, starting on his way out over the old, worn and thick planks. He hesitated when he reached the steep ramp that led down to the floating dock. Eventually, he started slowly making his way down the ramp to the gently bobbing slab of cement. When he reached the bottom he sat on the edge, taking off his shoes and putting his feet in the water.
The water was cold, but in the muggy night air of Texas it felt refreshing. Jack swished his legs around, stirring the dark water, disturbing the reflection of the stars above. He looked out over the seemingly endless expanse of sea, the nearby breakwater making the water much calmer than normal, something Jack was thankful for.
He sighed, looking down at a spot on the water just in front of him. He started thinking of his grandma, about all the time they used to spend fishing on docks just like this one. This isn’t what she would have wanted, Jack thought, for him to have such an aversion to the sea. She would have wanted the ocean to be how he remembered her, for it to bring happy memories of their time together to mind. It didn’t much change how he felt, though.
Jack sighed once again, his shoulders rising and falling heavily as he closed his eyes. He let the warm breeze of the night air blow away his stress, and stoicism. He could feel his face growing hot, his eyes beginning to sting, as tears slowly started to fall.
All of a sudden Jack heard a voice, deep, calm, and concerned, “You’re not going to try and drown yourself are you?”
Jack eyes opened in an instant, looking out into the water. Floating there where he had been looking not a moment before was a head of dusty brown hair and broad shoulders. It took a moment for what he was seeing to to register, but when he did he let out a loud yelp of surprise. Pulling his legs out of the water quickly and scrambling away from the edge of the dock, he look at the other with wide eyes.
“W-What the fuck!” Jack half yelled half whispered. Who in their right mind would be swimming in the ocean at what was probably at this point after 2 A.M. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?”
“I’m Ryan,” The figure said calmly, as if he was used to this kind of reaction. He swam up to the dock and crossed his arms over the side, resting on it, “I was just….in the area and saw you looking out at the water all forloren like, wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna try and drown yourself. So….Are you gonna try and drown yourself?”
“No, no I’m not going to try and drown myself. Why would you even think that?” Jack asked, placing a hand on his chest and trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. The man, Ryan, shrugged his shoulders slightly and pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the dock.
“I’ve lived here all my life, and seen a lot of people kill themselves in these waters,” He said quietly, sounding sad, “They usually have the same look you had before they do it to. I thought, maybe if I got to you before you jumped in the water, I could talk you out of it. But you’re not going to try and drown yourself, so I guess I was worried for nothing!”
He finished speaking, turning to look at Jack with a bright smile, bringing the front of his body further into view. That was when Jack noticed it, the tail. It was long, disappearing under the surface of the water, and covered in blue-gray scales. Jack was mesmerized. When he was growing up his Grandmother would tell him old sailors tales about merpeople, but he had always thought they were just that. Stories, legends, the overactive imagination of old drunk sailors.
Ryan watched as the others eyes became glued to him. He was quite confused as to why thought, did he have seaweed on his face? But then he took note of where his eyes were focused, and started chuckling quietly and awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.
“Oh yeah,” Ryan begins awkwardly, “So uh….you’re probably wondering about the tail. It’s uh….it’s real. And yes, I am a merman.”
“Holly shit, I thought my Grandma was crazy to believe merpeople existed,” Jack muttered to himself, moving slowly closer to the other, trying to get a better look. Ryan chuckled quietly, feeling a bit less awkward, seeing how the other had yet to freak out and start screaming.
After being observed for a few moments, Ryan cleared his throat and asked, “So uh...what’s you’re name, by the way?”
This seemed to break Jack out of his aweish stupor. He shook his head to clear it, and sat down more properly next to Ryan, offering him his hand. “I’m Jack,” He says with a warm smile, “Sorry to have worried you before. I’m really am fine.”
“It’s lovely to meet you Jack,” Ryan replied, with a bright grin, shaking Jack's hand, “So...what brought you out here so late anyways? Especially looking so upset?”
Jack look back out over the water, sadness once again in his eyes. “My Grandma lived by the ocean,” He told him with a sigh. That night, the two stayed up until sunrise, Jack telling Ryan story after story about his Grandmother and all the memories he had of her.
That morning he returned to the hotel to a very freaked out Geoff and a worried Griffin. He was sure to calm their worries, telling him that he had just gone out for a walk, and must have fallen asleep when he decided to sit down on the dock.
For the rest of the week, Jack would go out late at night and meet Ryan on a little patch of sand under the boardwalk. They would talk for hours, sharing stories, and learning about each other. It wasn’t long before Jack started to feel drawn to Ryan. And the closer and closer they got, and the more and more Jack started to like his new merman friend, the more and going back to Austin made his chest hurt.
It was the evening of the ceremony finally, and Geoff was a wreck, pacing to the point where Jack was sure he was going to wear a hole in the floor. His mind thought, was not on his friend, or the wedding, where it should have been. It was on Ryan, the wonderfully caring man who had some how made the sea something enjoyable again.
Where Jack had once wanted nothing more than to get the week over with and get as far away from the sea as he could, now he never wanted to leave. He wanted to stay by the ocean, with Ryan, continue to learn about the merman, perhaps even grow this fast friendship of theirs into something more.
As the ceremony took place on the beach, a peaceful breeze blowing and the sun setting off in the distance, Jack could see Ryan bobbing out in the distance, watching the whole display. According to him, merpeople weddings were very different from human weddings. He must have been curious.
That night Jack went to their meeting place as usual, waiting from Ryan to show up. Soon enough he did, crawling up onto the sand enough to sit side by side with Jack. The two looked at eachother, and it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing, they didn’t want this to end.
“So you’re leaving tomorrow morning right?” Ryan asks, sadly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t want to go,” Jack admitted. He looked at the other, his face in a very similar expression to the one he was wearing the night they met, “You’re the first person to make me love the ocean since my Grandma past. I don’t want to lose that.”
Ryan reached up his hand and gently touched the other's cheek. “I don’t want you to leave eather,” He told him honestly, “But you have to. You have a life to live, friends and family, and it’s not like you can’t come back and visit.”
“But what if I can’t find you?” Jack asks, knowing full well he’s making lame excuses.
“I’ll keep coming here very night then,” Ryan replies simply, “Just to see if you’re here.”
Jack nods his head, quietly resigning to his fate. The two of them sit together in silence the rest of the night, leaning on each other as they watch the waves crash over the sand. The sun begins to peek up over the horizon to soon, and Jack knows he has to leave.
“So I guess this is goodbye,” Jack says, turning to look at the merman.
“No, not goodbye, just until next time,” He tells him seriously, cupping the other's cheek softly, and gently placing a kiss on the others lips. “Until next time,” He whispers, before quickly disappearing back into the ocean.
“Until next time,” Jack nods his head earnestly, a soft smile on his lips. He stands and returns to the hotel so that he can pack up his things and head home to Austin. The car ride home is considerable quieter, considering there’s no Geoff to talk to.
After the wedding, it’s not long before Jack returns to the ocean. There is a small, three room at the most, house just down the beach from the hotel that Jack rents for the weekend. From then on Jack goes down one or two weekends a month to see Ryan, and it’s not long before their relationship flourishes into something truly beautiful.
After about two years or so, the owner of the house that Jack always stays in put it up for sale. Jack jumped on the chance in a heartbeat, and bought it. He didn’t mind making the commute to Austin, and it meant he could be with Ryan when ever he wanted.
Renovation were made on the house, making it slightly larger, and constantly about two to three feet deep with water, so Ryan could get inside. In all it was perfect, in Jack's mind at least. He had the sea back, but now he shared his love of the ocean with not one, but two people, and he couldn’t be happier.
Summary: Jeremy wasn’t sure what he expected when he stormed into the flower shop, slapped 20 bucks on the counter and asked “How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?” but it certainly wasn’t Ryan’s smile.
Warnings: N/A
WordCount: 13902
Say it with flowers
Jeremy hit the snooze button on his alarm yet again. The sunlight was filtering through the thin curtains at an angle that indicated he was already at risk of being late for work, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough. Instead, he rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. Seconds later a muffled ringing reached his ears.
He groaned and debated letting it ring out, but his sense of responsibility won out in the end and he forced himself to get up and answer it.
Caller ID came up as Matt, and judging by the time, he’d probably be picking up donuts on his way to work.
“’sup Matt?” Jeremy forced himself to sound cheerful, not letting on the fact he’d just decided to get up.
“Hey man, did you remember to get something for Leslie’s engagement party thing today?”
Shit. Well, now he was awake.
“Yeah, uh, I got it, don’t worry…” Jeremy launched himself out of bed, pulling on his jeans one-handed while his mind raced to come up with a plausible excuse for why he was going to be even later than he was already, “um… I might be running a little late though; traffic’s pretty bad here right now.”
Shit shit shit.
“Really? That’s weird, it was pretty clear when I drove past your place earlier…”
Jeremy propped the phone between his shoulder and ear as he rummaged through his apartment, looking for anything that might be an appropriate gift. Surely some unwanted birthday present or useless trinket or something…?
“Uh, yeah, might have been a crash or something, I dunno…” Jeremy lied, gradually resigning himself to the fact he was going to have to spend more money than he’d like to on a last minute gift for someone he actively hated. “Yeah, yeah, gonna be pretty late, just cover for me till I get there.”
Matt scoffed a humourless laugh, “Man, you’re on thin ice as it is, I wouldn’t miss the boss’ party if I were you.”
“It’ll be fine; I’ll see you in a bit.”
And thanks for reminding me, Jeremy thought to himself as he pulled on a mostly clean shirt, grabbed his keys and stuffed a pack of chewing gum in his pocket, already regretting his decision not to brush his teeth as he shoved his feet into his shoes and ran out the door.
There was a flower shop a few blocks from his apartment building, not quite on his way to work, but not too far out of the way. A little hole-in-the wall place that seemed to be doing ok for itself; it usually had nice pre-made arrangements out the front.
That’ll have to do. Jeremy thought to himself, eyeing the clock in his car’s dash as he slammed the door shut. He was definitely going to be late.
* * *
“You’re getting forgetful in your old age Ry,” Meg teased as the quaint little bell at the front door of the shop chimed her arrival. Late. As usual.
“There are no stock arrangements out the front… D’you forget to make them up?” She sang out as she grabbed her apron from the hook behind the counter and put it on, wandering to the preparation room out the back.
Ryan was fussing about treating some tulip stems, but there were no arrangements made up. Meg was suddenly concerned.
“Hey there buddy, are you ok?” She asked tentatively.
Ryan nodded absently, “I’m fine… Just… thinking about trying something new. Maybe just for today.”
In truth, he’d been thinking about a career change. It was a long time coming really. It wasn’t that business wasn’t good; Los Santos was a city where being a florist was actually one of the more stable career options. A deeply entrenched ‘life-is-short’ mentality reinforced by the constant stream of accidents warranting ‘get-well-soon’ flower arrangements, and funerals demanding classic Calla Lilies; it was an attitude that drove people to more spontaneous, passionate displays of affection, and kept his roses walking out the door. But still, he needed something to keep him interested.
“Oh Ryan, not this again,” Meg protested as she saw him writing on the chalkboard sign, another quaint little antiquity she couldn’t convince him to give up, “People just want a nice, pretty bunch of flowers they can pick up, really quick and simple.”
Ryan sighed and blew the excess chalk off the board. “I know,” he admitted, “but it just gets so tedious. I wanna do something fun, something challenging. I dunno.”
“Aww, Ry, you should be proud, your flowers are the best,” Meg encouraged him, “and since you set up email pre-orders, business has been really good!”
He scoffed, she only brought that up because she and Ashley had spearheaded it and, to be fair, it had been good for business, but it wasn’t doing anything to alleviate his boredom.
Meg crossed her arms and shook her head disapprovingly, “No one’s gonna want to ‘say it with flowers,’ Ryan.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and smirked, “Well, I guess we’ll see.”
“We’re gonna make no money today!” Meg called after him as he took the sign out the front.
“We’ll see…” He repeated in a sing-song voice, quietly hopeful.
* * *
Jeremy was puzzled by the lack of flowers out the front, but a hand-written chalkboard sign caught his eye:
Say it with flowers. Custom, hand-made arrangements - $20 flat-rate.
He thought about going somewhere else, getting some chocolates or something from the gas station… but Matt was right, he was on thin ice at work; not that he’d been doing anything wrong per se, but he certainly didn’t have the enthusiasm for his work he had when he’d first started working there, hopeful of becoming an actual reporter… a dream that seemed to be slowly slipping away the longer he stayed there. Largely thanks to his boss, who he now had to buy flowers for.
Fuck it. He thought, suddenly feeling his pent-up frustrations evolving into an appreciable – but largely passive – aggression.
Still seething, he stormed into the flower shop and walked straight up to the man behind the counter, who smiled warmly in return.
Jeremy almost glared back at him, “Say it with flowers yeah?” Before the man had a chance to respond, Jeremy slapped $20 on the counter and almost growled, "How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?"
The man straightened up, his bluer-than-blue eyes sparkled to life; lips immediately curling into a cheeky lopsided grin. No questions, no surprise, just a mischievous expression.
Without missing a beat he asked, “Well, does the intended recipient suffer from hay fever at all? Because we could definitely load a bouquet up with pollens…”
Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. His day just got a lot better.
* * *
Ryan’s day was infinitely improved when the short, angry stranger walked into his shop. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect request. He suddenly wished he’d waited a little longer before he’d sent Meg out to get bagels. He wanted to rub her nose in it so badly… but that would have to wait until she got back.
Hay fever was a no, but the man seemed amused by his reaction at least. Ryan was actually pretty proud of himself for being so quick so early in the morning.
The shorter man looked completely different to when he’d walked in; his eyes were bright and his mischievous smile probably mirrored his own. Ryan found himself admiring his attitude and sense of humour.
So symbolism was in. Excellent. He couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to show off.
“Fuck you huh? Hmmm…” Ryan rubbed his chin in an exaggerated display of thoughtfulness, “and you need it now?”
The man nodded, “ASAP. My boss is horrible and she’s making sure everyone knows she’s engaged.”
“Alright,” Ryan cracked his knuckles, wandering around the shop, eyes scanning the blooms. “Let’s see…” He scooped up a bunch of small, bright pink flowers, carefully interspersing them into a crude bouquet amongst stunning cascades of purple tubular flowers, with fluffy white, fernlike blossoms to fill the gaps. As he worked he pointed out the flowers in turn and explained, “We have geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity and meadowsweet means uselessness…” He looked around, picking up a few more flowers as he went and assembling them, tweaking the bouquet slightly as he talked it over, “yellow carnations mean ‘you have disappointed me’, and orange lilies, whilst beautiful, are actually symbolic of hatred. Am I getting warm?”
The man nodded enthusiastically, “Captures the sentiment exactly.”
Ryan chuckled as he added a few long green leaves to frame the flowers and packaged the stems so they would stay fresh as long as possible, expertly wrapping the base in orange tissue paper and pink cellophane. It was truly a work of art.
“Actually, that looks quite striking,” Ryan admitted, taking it in, “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Wow,” the man was beaming, “that is absolutely perfect. Just… the prettiest way to say ‘fuck you’ I can think of.”
“So… you’re happy with them?” Ryan ventured cautiously, wary of sounding too optimistic.
“They’re awesome, you’re a lifesaver!” The man pulled a few crumpled notes from his pocket and tried to hand them over but Ryan, still unused to any sort of generosity, pushed them back. The man instead shoved them into the tip jar on the counter and hurriedly made his way out of the store, looking just as rushed, but far happier than he’d entered.
Ryan couldn’t help but feel pleased.
* * *
Jeremy was still late, but luckily Leslie was in a good mood, which was got even better when Jeremy arrived with the flowers.
“Oh guys, thank you so much! These are positively gorgeous! Where did you get them?” She gushed.
Jeremy didn’t want to let on he’d only just picked them up that morning, so he shrugged and said, “My little secret, the best florist in Los Santos.”
Actually, that might be true… he thought to himself.
As soon as Leslie was out of earshot Matt sidled up to Jeremy, Trevor just behind him.
“You just picked those up this morning didn’t you?” Matt muttered so only the trio could hear.
Jeremy feigned offence, “Please, Matt, I am a professional…” His smile sagged dramatically into a frown and then morphed into a cheeky smile, “Can you tell I didn’t brush my teeth?”
Trevor waved a hand in front of his nose mockingly, “Jeremy, please…”
Jeremy made the most of the rest of the party; it was always nice to be able to at least pretend to ignore the responsibilities of looming deadlines, although it was doomed to be short-lived. The rest of the day was spent in the usual tedium of office duties and what essentially boiled down to spellchecking and formatting that came with the illustrious title of ‘junior editor’. He pretended like he wasn’t distracted by his thoughts, which kept returning to the florist. On more than one occasion, Jeremy caught himself grinning, thinking about the look on the man’s face when he’d asked for ‘fuck you’ flowers; the way his eyes lit up, how he smiled…
“Jeremy!”
He was abruptly startled out of his daydreams by Leslie’s shrill voice.
“Yeah, uh, what’s up?” Jeremy scrambled to make himself try to look productive.
Leslie was carrying the bouquet of flowers, sniffing at them, “These are just so gorgeous… I almost don’t want to take them home. I’ve been thinking about getting some flowers for the reception office; what with the mayoral elections coming up and all, we’re going to have more than a few interviews. It might be nice to spruce the place up a bit. Do you think you could pass on a request to your florist? Get some for Monday morning and they should last all week, probably. They’re not too expensive are they? I’m sorry, that’s so rude!” She spoke in rapid-fire staccato and almost didn’t pause for breath, but Jeremy had gotten used to it in the nearly two years he’d been working there and deciphered it expertly.
He replied without thinking, “Oh, yeah, no problem… oh, but they only do made-to-order bouquets. I mean, it’s no problem, but y’know, maybe I could pick them up for you? It’s on my way to work anyway.”
He wasn’t sure if that was right or not, but something told him to go with it. It might have been the same something that leapt at the idea that he might get to see that look on the florist’s face again…
“Great!” Leslie exclaimed, “I’ll get Trevor to work something out to cover the costs and get back to you.”
Jeremy vaguely wondered if that was even part of Trevor’s job, before going back to work with a new sense of enthusiasm and maybe just a touch of excitement.
Chapter 2
After work Friday, Jeremy walked into the flower shop, the little bell above the door ringing happily at his arrival. A shaggy mop of dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes peeked over a forest of ferns on the working counter to see who had walked in. Jeremy immediately recognised him and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The man’s response was almost identical.
“Hi, I’ll be with you in a sec,” there was a violent rustling as he readjusted the ferns and emerged on the mostly clear side of the counter, an inquisitive look crossing his face.
“Hi. Um… I came in here the other day,” Jeremy began.
“Fuck you flowers,” The florist interrupted with a remarkably straight face, “I remember.”
Jeremy grinned widely, “They went over great, even better than I could’ve hoped for.”
“Glad to be of service,” the florist smiled back, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his cheeks glowed pink, “It’s a real satisfying feeling to know you can be so surreptitious about being an asshole.”
A quiet scoff came from the pretty blonde assistant who Jeremy had failed to notice earlier, standing just to his right and glaring at the florist. The florist suddenly stopped himself, eyes going a little wide as he bit his lip, like he realised how badly he might have just put his foot in it.
“I… uh, I mean…” The florist scrambled for words.
Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. “No, that’s perfect. In fact, that’s why I’m back. The boss wants some flowers for the office.”
The assistant shook her head, playfully disapprovingly and went back to work writing messages on little cards in the neatest script Jeremy had ever seen.
“Great!” The florist looked instantly relieved, going back to smiling, although somewhat sheepishly now. “What would you like them to say?”
Jeremy had to remind himself to stop staring and pay attention. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Oh… I just thought I’d get a standard bunch, something pretty. It’s just for the office,” Jeremy shrugged, but caught the look on the assistant’s face, smirking smugly at the florist as his smile fell a little.
“Sure, that’s no problem,” the florist shot a look at the assistant, who raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’ before she turned on her heel and busied herself elsewhere.
Jeremy sensed the florist’s disappointment, so he quickly changed strategy. “I mean, they’re for the office, so it’s not like it matters…” he thought hard about what kind of meaning flowers in the office should have, “but it’d be real great if…” the only thing he could think of was the upcoming elections and how the office was about to be filled with jerks when it clicked. “Wow, you’re gonna think I’m a horrible person…”
The florist held up both hands defensively, “Hey, I don’t judge, I’m just a humble translator… and I sorta get a kick out of it,” he lowered his voice a little, “to be fair, the ‘fuck you’ flowers really made my day, so there’s that.” He flashed a devilish smile. “What’ve you got?”
“Alright, so I work for Weazel News, and – please don’t tell my boss –”
The florist mimed zipping his mouth shut and locking it and chuckled.
“So they mayoral elections are coming up and we’re playing host to all the interviews, but everyone knows they’re all giant dou…” Jeremy stopped himself short, pre-emptively anticipating having to apologize but to his relief, the florist was already nodding along.
“Giant douche or turd sandwich. They’re the usual options anyway. That Burnie guy seems pretty okay though.” There was that cheeky smile again.
Jeremy relaxed, instantly relieved. “Him aside, the rest are all really shady, and maybe it’s petty of me, but I’d like to make their interviews as unpleasant as possible …well-” Jeremy tried to recall the phrasing the florist had used earlier- “as surreptitiously unpleasant as possible.”
The florist laughed long and loud and it made Jeremy smile to hear, “So we’re back at the pollen-bomb idea then? Sure. I can do that.”
“That’s awesome,” Jeremy professed, “Oh, I won’t actually need them until Monday morning, is that ok?”
“Of course! I’ll make them up for you to pick up that morning if you’d like.” He fished a notepad out of the pocket in his dark green apron and a pen from his top pocket. It looked like an antique fountain pen, but it still has a ball point. It was a nice touch. He began scribbling notes in small, barely legible script as he talked through his thinking. “Now, let’s see… Sunflowers as a centrepiece, definitely. Jasmine is perfect as a filler and smells really sweet, so your boss will love it, but it’s pretty bad for setting off hay fever. Then maybe daisies and goldenrod. Hmm, yeah, that would be nice.”
Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how that would look or even what some of those flowers were, at least by name, but he nodded and shrugged, “sure. Sounds great.”
The florist went back to scribbling notes. “Oh, sorry, I never caught your name.”
Jeremy felt his cheeks flush, and immediately made it worse by thinking about how embarrassing that was. “It’s Jeremy.” He admitted, hoping his unshaven face would hide the red spreading across it.
“Jeremy,” the florist repeated, scribbling his name on the paper with the order, “I’m Ryan, by the way.”
He looked up as he said it, smiling appreciatively, almost affectionately, his bright clear blue eyes scanning over Jeremy’s face, as if trying to remember the details in it, filing it away for next time. Jeremy noticed his nose was a little crooked but it in no way undermined his attractiveness, and he had a smattering of faint freckles across it. He extended his hand to shake and Jeremy took it immediately.
“Ryan,” Jeremy repeated, “nice to meet you properly.”
“Likewise, Jeremy.”
* * *
After a largely uneventful weekend spent working on wedding arrangements and funeral wreaths; Monday morning, Ryan found himself practically leaping out of bed, unusually enthusiastic to get to work.
Ashley was already in when he arrived, her reusable coffee mug steaming, filling the front of the shop with the warm and familiar aroma that Ryan appreciated, even if he couldn’t stand the bitter taste of the drink. She nudged a large cup of iced sweet tea across the counter to him.
“Thought you could use something for the early start, got some big orders in by email for pick up this afternoon.” She also pushed a sheet of paper across the counter to him.
He took the sweet tea, giving it a stir with the straw before taking a long sip and scanning over the order list without picking it up. All standards. Boring. He really needed to get around to updating the website to make it clear that custom orders were encouraged. Or at least get Ashley and Meg to do it, since the whole web ordering project had been their idea, to ‘bring him out of the dark ages.’ It’s not like he wasn’t into technology, he just didn’t feel the need to shout his feelings across the twatterverse or vlogosphere or whatever the kids were into these days. Although from a business perspective, it was probably wise to look into. He pushed the paper away and took another sip of his tea.
Ashley scowled at him.
He grinned back, “Look, I’ll get to it, I promise. But there’s a fun one first and I really wanna see how it looks. Pickup’s for before 9 anyways so…”
“So you’d better hurry, it’s a quarter past 8 already and I know for a fact there are two others due out before 9.30.”
Ryan glanced at the clock. “It’ll be fine,” he stressed to Ashley, who pulled a face to challenge it. In truth, he’d forgotten about the other orders, but they shouldn’t take too long to throw together, and besides, he was more excited for the ‘pollen bomb’.
“If you want to start on the-”
“-let me guess, cards? You really gotta work on your handwriting Ry,” She teased, “or maybe consider a laser printer or something…”
He shook his head dismissively and pulled out his notebook to double check the composition he had in mind and the name. Jeremy. He hadn’t forgotten. If he was entirely honest with himself, Jeremy had been the highlight of his week, and he’d been looking forward to seeing him again since he’d left the shop. But he tried not to think about it. Not too hard anyway.
He got to work with the flowers and before too long he’d assembled a tidy bunch of blooms in rich yellows and golds, with pretty white daisies and tiny jasmine flowers that smelled exactly as sweet as they looked. He wrapped the stems in sunny gold tissue paper and cellophane and tied it off with a white satin ribbon.
He was putting the finishing touches on the bouquet and pondering the idea that maybe Jeremy could become a regular customer, when the bell snapped him back to reality and Jeremy’s far too cheerful face.
Ryan could hardly help himself, “Jeremy!” He blurted out without thinking, coming off way too enthusiastically, especially for a Monday morning. He immediately attempted to temper his tone, but he was already grinning like an idiot, and the way Jeremy returned his smile and greeting, there was no way he was going to be able to stop it now. Might as well roll with it.
“Ryan! Hi!” Jeremy returned, immediately heading over to the workbench where Ryan was finishing up. Ryan was a little impressed, or maybe more intrigued, and if he admitted it, quietly excited that Jeremy had remembered his name.
Ryan finished wrapping the flowers and presented the bunch with a flourish. “I give you: the pollen bomb.” He said it with a tweak of his eyebrow and a cheeky grin that Jeremy immediately returned.
Ashley giggled quietly from the other side of the shop.
“That’s excellent,” Jeremy ignored her giggling and looked over the flowers, “I can’t wait to see how this goes.”
Ryan chuckled, “nor can I. I’ll definitely be keeping a closer eye on the election interviews.”
“Just our little secret. But thank you again; really, you’re a lifesaver.” Jeremy handed over cash and Ryan processed the sale, neither of their smiles fading.
“What a lovely way to start the week,” Ryan commented, trying to sound sarcastic about the flowers, but coming off far too genuine, to the point that Jeremy was nodding along with him.
“It really is… well, thanks again. I’ll see you ‘round!”
“I hope so,” Ryan replied as Jeremy left, stealing a glance over his shoulder on his way out.
Ryan felt almost giddy. It was such an unfamiliar feeling it took him a few good minutes to acknowledge it. He had a crush.
It took him even longer to remember he had more orders to fill and a full day ahead of him.
* * *
It was strange how much Ryan had imprinted on Jeremy. His thoughts kept drifting back to him at the strangest times, with barely any prompting; there was a blue poster on the far wall that he could see from his cubicle and every time he caught a glimpse of it, he was reminded of how blue the florist’s eyes were. He could still picture the way his eyes lit up and the cheeky grin on his face when he ordered the ‘fuck you’ flowers. He’d even dreamt of him - nothing too out of the ordinary, he was just there. Jeremy tried to reassure himself it was normal. He’d thought he was cute. It happens. It was probably just because their interaction had been so out of the ordinary, it had stuck with him. That was all. Probably.
Maybe it was just that it had been a particularly boring week at work. Surely that was it.
At any rate, Jeremy couldn’t wait for Friday to roll around. He’d been dropping hints about making flowers a regular thing in the office to try to encourage Leslie to agree. And she’d loved the ‘pollen bomb’ so much, it seemed a sure thing. Unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately for his prospects of regular flowers – none of the mayoral candidates seemed to suffer from hay fever, or at least not so much that they were affected during the interviews. Still, it had been worth a shot, and Jeremy noted to keep a list of ideas of ‘things to say in flower’ for future orders. It seemed to really brighten Ryan’s day.
Friday morning, Jeremy’s patience and persistence were rewarded when Leslie bounced in to the office, dropped a stack of files on Jeremy’s desk and said, “got some favours to ask of you.”
Jeremy was cautiously optimistic.
“We’ve got some more work to do before the elections, I want you to do the research for it, and maybe write some major pieces if it all goes well?” Leslie asked, flipping her long dark bangs out of her face and adjusting her glasses.
“Sure, no problem. Thank you,” Jeremy muttered, a little surprised at her blunt generosity. Even Matt perked up to hear it, Jeremy noticed out the corner of his eye.
“Oh, and I know it’s not your job, but could you pass on the details of your florist to Trevor? They’re just so beautiful, and really, ridiculously cheap for what they are, I’d love to have them on a regular basis. The ‘big boss’ says so too, so there’s a budget now.”
Jeremy’s eyes lit up, “That’s great. I mean, I can do the ordering and pick them up if you like? I live close to the store, so it’s no problem and it’ll work out way cheaper without delivery fees.”
Leslie scowled at him, “I don’t know, it shouldn’t really be your job…” for once, she sounded like she might actually care for him, then again, she might just be worried about him taking company cash.
“Leslie, please, I’m a junior editor, everything is my job.” Jeremy flashed a charming grin. “And I really don’t mind.”
Leslie laughed, “Well I guess if you’re sure, but we can always get them couriered or something f it becomes a problem, ok?”
“Sure. Won’t be a problem.”
“Thanks, Jeremy,” she tapped the pile of files, “I’m sure you’ll do great on these too. Need them by Monday. Have a great weekend!” She turned on her heel grabbed her blazer and headed out.
Well, it was almost a complete win. Jeremy couldn’t remember the last time she’d given him a day out of the office to cover a story, but she seemed to be averaging three a week. At least he had something to look forward to now. He opened the stack of files and tried hard not to let his mind wander back to what he would say to Ryan.
* * *
Ryan glanced at the clock behind him.
5pm. Friday.
Meg was picking through the older, soon to be wilted flowers, gathering them up in loose, hodgepodge arrangements and putting them into the bargain bin; the usual ritual of getting ready for the last-minute budget-romance extravaganza weekend that was the Los Santos dating scene.
“Why don’t you go out Ry?” Meg suddenly asked, “Might be good for you to meet someone, y’know, go to a bar –”
“I don’t drink…”
“–go to a movie –”
“You can’t talk at the movies…”
“–or you could just keep being difficult.”
Ryan grinned proudly, recalcitrantly, and Meg rolled her eyes and pouted.
“Whatever. All I’m saying is that it’d be good for you to go out and get some.”
Ryan laughed, “get some? Get some what?”
“Whatever floats your boat Ryan, who am I to say what that is?” She laughed lightly and went back to arranging the budget bin.
Seconds later, almost as if on cue, Jeremy walked in. Ryan had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. The look on his face didn’t go unnoticed by Meg, who winked at him exaggeratedly.
“Hi there! Good to see you again,” Ryan grinned, trying not to blush thinking about his timing and Meg’s reaction.
“Hey Ryan! Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other. Boss wants to make the flowers a weekly thing for the office.”
Ryan couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, as he tried to hide his excitement at the prospect under professional pride, “that good huh? I’m guessing no one had a severe allergy then?”
“Sadly no, but I guess that’s probably a good thing.”
“Well, our pollen bomb failed; looks like we’ll have to try harder next time.”
Meg laughed from across the store, clearly eavesdropping, “Trust you boys to turn flowers into weapons…”
Ryan and Jeremy both laughed, but Jeremy wasn’t distracted by her in the slightest, not the way other customers had been anyway, and that in itself raised Ryan’s hopes.
“So, weekly flowers huh? That sounds like a great deal. Um, you can always put in orders by email and we can schedule delivery straight to your work. We’ve got a selection of standard bouquets for businesses if you’d like to have a look…” Ryan started the usual business pitch that came so easily, but Jeremy interrupted him.
“Actually, I was thinking, I live pretty close, so it’s easy for me to just drop in on my way home on Friday to place the order, then I can pick them up on my way in Monday, just like last week… if that works for you?”
There was that creeping smile again. This time Ryan didn’t try to hide it.
“Sure! That works for me. What’s the theme for this week?”
Meg heard the enthusiasm in his voice and with another exaggerated wink, she slunk out the back to give them more privacy.
“I was thinking, we need some positivity in the office next week, it’s gonna be a tough month, there’s a lot of stuff to get through, so maybe something simple, like ‘be happy?’”
“Easy, I can have it ready Monday morning, no problem.”
They couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something fun.
* * *
Another oddly enthusiastic Monday morning saw Ryan arrive at the shop before even Ashley to open up and get a head start on the weekly orders.
The fact that Jeremy would be in before 9 might have had something to do with it too.
“Good morning!” Ryan greeted him warmly as he entered; his flowers already out for him to pick up.
Ryan was eager to see him again, even if only briefly.
“Have a good weekend?” he asked, genuinely interested.
Jeremy shrugged, blushing faintly, “I mostly worked. Trying to get a few more editorial pieces together, hoping I can catch a break actually reporting for once…” he caught himself as if suddenly – incorrectly – realising there was very little chance Ryan would be interested, “uh, but yeah, it was good. How ‘bout you?”
Ryan half-shrugged, “More or less the same. Work is never done for a florist apparently.”
“I mean, we’re both in pretty good jobs for Los Santos. That’s something to be thankful for.”
Ryan nodded, “Still, could definitely be more interesting. You’ve been a great help for that,” Ryan said in earnest, “just wish more people would be like you.”
Ryan caught himself just as he realised how that sounded, and a moment of panic passed between them at the words, like neither was sure if that was intentional flirting or an innocent compliment; they both looked away and blushed slightly.
Ryan quickly looked to change the subject before things got more awkward between them, blurting out, “Be happy! …uh, the bunch you ordered.” He handed the flowers to Jeremy. “There’s lily-of-the-valley, to bring happiness, apple blossoms and lavender for good fortune and luck, because you said it was going to be a hard week, and sweet William – that’s these -” he pointed out the pretty, delicate, white, red and pink, almost bullseye-looking flowers, “to bring some smiles to the office. Hopefully.”
Again, it had turned out even better than he had imagined.
“Where did you learn? Is this… is this something you go to school for?” Jeremy asked, suddenly realizing he knew shockingly little about floristry – which really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him at all.
“Uh, no, I mean, I should, but I’m actually self-taught.” A hint of pink still coloured Ryan’s cheeks. “Which is probably why I undercharge… I got into the symbolism by accident, but it’s something that I find interesting, so I want to make it what makes my shop different.”
Jeremy smiled and nodded, “it’s certainly different.” He glanced at the clock behind Ryan, feeling his heart sink a little as he realised he’d be late if he stayed any longer.
“I’d better get to work if I wanna keep my job, but thank you again, they’re perfect. If they go over well, hopefully I’ll see you again on Friday!”
Ryan grinned, “I sure hope so, have a good week, Jeremy.”
“You too, Ryan.”
The way Ryan said his name, then saying his back, it shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did; but despite the awful Los Santos traffic and road rage around him, Jeremy’s grin was indelible from his face all the way to work.
* * *
This went on for several weeks.
Friday afternoon, Jeremy would leave work just a little earlier than usual and drop into the flower shop to place an order, spending far too long making up his mind, casually discussing the events of the week with Ryan, while Ryan pondered the best way to translate Jeremy’s increasingly-complex sentiments into gorgeous floral displays. It wasn’t uncommon for Ashley or Meg to close the shop and leave while they were still chatting.
Monday morning, Ryan would get in early to open the shop and work on the order. Jeremy would arrive early to ask Ryan how his weekend had been and pick up the bouquets, which he gradually realised were getting steadily larger and more intricate, despite the florist never charging him any extra. Matt and Trevor would roll their eyes when Jeremy arrived at work a little late with a huge grin plastered across his face, but his boss would thank him and ogle the flowers, while Jeremy quietly relished in the knowledge of what that particular collection of blossoms actually ‘meant’. He spent a good half hour snickering under his breath when she’d taken a real shine to the “I can’t believe I have to suffer through another week of this bullshit” bunch. But then so did the rest of the office, which seemed apt.
Chapter 3
It was a pleasant, slightly overcast Sunday morning; the first Ryan had had off in weeks, and he’d decided to make the most of it, walking the two and a half blocks from his apartment in Del Perro to his favourite cafe in Morningwood.
“Ryan!”
The voice startled him, cutting through the audiobook he was listening to through his headphones, snapping him back to reality from the dark forests of fantasy he was picturing as he waited in line to order his sweet tea. He popped out his earbuds and looked over his shoulder to see Jeremy grinning up at him, a pair of aviator sunglasses atop his dark hair.
“Jeremy, hey!” Ryan returned the smile and paused his book, pleasantly surprised by the appearance of his new favourite regular. Especially away from work, in a casual T-shirt and jeans.
“Didn’t realise you lived around here,” Jeremy said, looking Ryan up and down, somewhat less than subtly. Ryan realised this was probably the first time he’d seen him away from work too, without his daggy green apron on.
“Yeah, I actually live just a few doors up from the store, makes the commute easier,” Ryan tried not to stare at Jeremy’s arms, which were even more impressive than they’d seemed before, instead nervously asking, “Uh, can I buy you a coffee?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Jeremy blushed a little.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. Besides, technically you’ve probably paid for it anyway, with all the business you’ve been giving me,” he smiled and Jeremy put his wallet away as they moved up to the front of the line.
“What can I get you today?” The server asked with a big, fake-hospitality smile Ryan was all-too familiar with. His mind went blank. There was a mild onset of panic. What was he here for again? He glanced at Jeremy, right, coffee. A little flustered he asked, “Coffee?”
Jeremy seemed almost as startled as he was and abruptly nodded, “sure.”
“Uh… just two coffees, thanks.” He muttered, still a little confused as he paid and gave his name for the order.
Ryan, you don’t drink coffee, you moron, what are you doing? He shook his head slightly at himself and sighed.
“Everything ok?” Jeremy asked gently.
“Yeah, I’m just, uh, I’m fine.” He had to stop himself from adding: I’m just a flustered idiot.
Just put lots of sugar in it and pretend you drink it all the time.
“So, any plans for today?” Jeremy asked.
“Nothing in particular. Just seemed like a nice day out so I thought I’d go for a walk. I’ll probably head down to the park and see where that takes me,” Ryan shrugged, “How about you?”
“I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but he slept in – wouldn’t be the first time either – so I got a couple of hours to kill.”
Jeremy was hovering over the little packets of sugar and wooden stirrers, pre-emptively palming packets and tearing the corners off. Ryan counted three. Ok, that’s probably socially acceptable. He followed Jeremy’s lead as the barista called his name and he stirred his in sugar carefully before awkwardly popping on a lid that made him feel like he was about to drink out of a sippy-cup.
“Well, I mean, if you’ve got nothing better to do, I’d be happy to keep you company… I mean, if you want to come for a walk or something?” He felt himself blushing and quickly took a sip of his coffee, which he managed to burn his tongue on.
Jeremy smiled a little at the face Ryan pulled as the bitter taste filled his mouth. “You sure you’re ok? I feel like maybe I should hang around to keep an eye on you.”
“Yeah, that’s probably not a bad idea.” Ryan laughed, but there was an excited flutter in his chest at the prospect of spending actual time with Jeremy, who he suddenly realised he knew very little about. He walked to the door and held it open for Jeremy, “Shall we then?”
The park wasn’t far from the cafe, just across the street and down the block a little way. Morningwood was one of the nicer areas of Los Santos, and while Ryan technically lived and worked in Del Perro, Morningwood was so close he considered it his own neighbourhood. Especially considering how often he made delivery runs there. Ryan had failed to mention that the ‘park’ they were headed to was in fact, a cemetery.
Jeremy’s eyes widened as he saw the tombstones, “Oh, um, ok then, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Sorry if it seems a bit morbid, but it is a lovely park,” Ryan stammered.
Jeremy took a sip of his coffee and grimaced, “No, it’s ok, you just… you weren’t visiting someone or something, were you?”
Ryan chuckled, relieved, “No, I just like the peace and quiet. And the flowers.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.
Ryan winced, “Look …All I’m saying is that the shop’s proximity to the church – and the cemetery – isn’t exactly an accident.”
It took Jeremy a moment to put together, and then he burst out laughing.
“Wow.” Jeremy seemed at a loss, but he was still grinning, so Ryan took that as a good sign.
Ryan shrugged, “Weddings, funerals… it’s just good business.”
Jeremy seemed thoughtful, “yeah, for me too I suppose.”
“Oh right, you work for Weazel? That makes me feel better about profiting from people’s suffering. What do you do there?” Ryan asked, scolding himself internally for how callous he always came off.
It didn’t seem to bother Jeremy. “At the moment I’m working as a junior editor for the website, it’s a lot of grunt-work kinda stuff. I get to write pieces too, but they’re never the big ones, my boss takes all those. Mostly we cover crime and breaking news, but we were given the mayoral election coverage too because, let’s face it, that stuff always ends up in the crime section sooner or later. I got a bit more leg-work to do for that in the next few weeks; get to do some press conferences and one-on-one interviews at City Hall. I think my boss is warming to me a bit after all the flowers.”
“That’s great!” Ryan was totally absorbed in what Jeremy had been saying, to the point where he’d forgotten he was drinking hot coffee instead of iced sweet tea. He took a big sip of unexpectedly hot, sickly sweet, but somehow still too-bitter coffee and promptly sprayed it out, thankfully away from Jeremy and not all over himself. He was still mortified.
Jeremy had just taken a smaller, more careful sip of his own coffee when he lost it, spraying coffee from his nose and dropping his cup. He was nearly falling over laughing, tears streaming down his face even though it contorted in pain from the coffee in his sinuses.
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. “Oh no, Jeremy, I’m so sorry,” Ryan babbled through laughter, feeling his face turn crimson as he put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders to steady them both.
As if to add insult to injury, right at that moment, lightning flashed above them and a few seconds later, thunder boomed overhead.
Dark clouds had been creeping up on them, threatening to bring rain any second.
It took Jeremy a few more minutes to collect himself, wiping his eyes and nose. He’d be smelling coffee for days.
Ryan found a bin and disposed of his offending drink and Jeremy’s empty cup, most of its contents left on the path in the park.
Another bolt of lightning, closely followed by thunder and Ryan glanced up at the sky, now full of clouds that looked heavy with rain.
“Um… my place is close, wanna head back there until this passes?”
Jeremy was still not quite capable of speaking, still embarrassed, covering his nose and mouth with both hands, but he nodded and Ryan began to lead the way back to his apartment building.
The rain started when they were only a few minutes away and they ran the last block, but it was the kind of sudden, heavy downpour that there was no escaping, and they still managed to get soaked through, arriving at Ryan’s doorstep dripping wet.
* * *
Jeremy was maybe just a little bit excited that Ryan had invited him back to his place, even though it was perfectly reasonable and not at all suggestive given the circumstances. Still, it kind of felt a little bit like a date.
Ryan unlocked the door and waved Jeremy inside, kicking his shoes off in the entrance.
The apartment was small, but neatly kept, with dark wooden floorboards and a minimalist style to it. Jeremy couldn’t help but note it still gave off the unmistakeable vibes of a bachelor pad, with games and various video game controllers, soda cans and remote controls littering the table in the living room.
“You live on your own?” Jeremy asked, removing his own shoes and trying not to drip water everywhere.
“Mmhmmm,” Ryan hummed as he disappeared through a door to his right, “I’ll just grab some towels.”
Jeremy looked around, spotting a motorbike helmet on the table next to the door and a black and blue leather jacket hanging from a hook above it. Maybe Ryan wasn’t the total dork he seemed to play up.
“You ride?” Jeremy asked as Ryan threw a thick, blue towel at him and he caught it, immediately drying off his face and hair.
“Yep, faster and cheaper than driving, not so good for moving stuff around, but that’s what Meg’s car’s good for. When she lets me borrow it.” He chuckled, towelling down his own sandy hair with a thinner white towel.
Meg. Jeremy had forgotten about the other shop attendants. Wonder if that’s a thing?
“So, I’d offer you a lift, but it’s not gonna be a pleasant ride…” Ryan continued, “what time were you meant to be meeting your friend?”
“Matt? Oh,” Jeremy checked his phone, anticipating the message he had probably already received. Yep. One unread message. Jeremy checked it anyway. Sure enough, Matt had flaked as soon as the weather got bad. “Well, looks like my day opened up. Matt bailed.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
Jeremy shrugged, “it’s ok, it’s still been a good day…”
Ryan looked around his apartment, then back to Jeremy, “I mean, you’re welcome to stay here until the weather clears up, then I’ll give you a lift back to yours, I got a spare helmet and jacket you can use, so it’s no problem.”
Jeremy had to check he wasn’t dreaming. This was almost too good to be true.
“Sure! Thanks.”
“Hang on, I’ll get you some dry clothes to change into, I’ll put yours in the dryer.”
Ryan returned with a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, both promising to be too big, or at least too long for him, but more importantly, Ryan came back having taken off his own shirt, and Jeremy had to check he wasn’t dreaming again. It was fair to say Ryan was attractive. That was just a fact. Not the most important fact, but it was obvious enough to be distracting.
“Would you like something to drink?” Ryan asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice, “I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee…”
Jeremy winced slightly, “can I be perfectly honest with you?”
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t really like coffee,” Jeremy confessed, looking at him apologetically, “I kinda panicked earlier.”
“Oh thank god,” Ryan huffed a relieved laugh, “I don’t drink it either. I just suffered a brain fart and went with what you were having.”
“Wow. We make a great team. Not awkward at all, huh?”
Ryan laughed and shook his head, “Sure, great team… I’ve got diet coke and …water?”
“Water’s fine.”
He pointed Jeremy in the direction of the bathroom to change and went to change his own pants, and probably, Jeremy thought sadly, put on a dry shirt.
When Jeremy had changed and come back to the living room, pants rolled up to his shins to stop them from dragging on the floor, Ryan had tidied the games and turned on the TV. And was wearing a shirt.
“Do you play?” He asked, holding out a controller.
“Do I play?” Jeremy repeated with a laugh, dark eyes lighting up, “let’s find out.”
They played for nearly three hours, various party and arcade games, and after realising they were well-matched in ability and complementary in skills, they eventually moved onto co-op adventure games that Ryan had been hanging out to play with someone.
They talked while they played, getting to know each other better. Jeremy admitted his lack of trivia skills in entertainment stemmed from a fundamental lack of knowledge of films, mostly owing to the fact that he’d never seen most of them. Ryan jokingly threatened him into promising to watch Star Wars with him – the original trilogy at least, the new ones hardly counted, he’d claimed. Jeremy didn’t really need all that much convincing, if it meant spending more time with Ryan, he was in. Ryan claimed he could cook – even went so far as saying he was good at it – but then promptly admitted to having eaten take-out more or less every day for the past month. He was partial to Chinese food, and regularly got the beef and broccoli, but if he felt he deserved it he might occasionally splurge and get the orange chicken – one of Jeremy’s favourites as well. They discussed work and politics although lightly, Los Santos wasn’t renowned for its upstanding moral… well, anything really, but especially politicians. Conversation came easy and they found themselves laughing and making jokes as if they’d known each other for years, not just weeks.
The rain persisted, and so did they. Before they knew it, most of the day had passed and they were well into a co-op campaign and doing pretty well for themselves too.
Eventually the rain let up and they tore themselves away from the game, making sure they saved their progress, and promising each other they’d return to finish it next time… someday. Ryan disappeared to fetch Jeremy’s now-dry clothes and left him to change. Jeremy had completely forgotten to check his phone the whole time they’d been playing.
He had a message from Matt:
I should’ve gotten my ass out of bed earlier, spent all day renovating virtual houses. Hope you had a better day than I did.
Jeremy chuckled at his message and replied:
Ran into a friend. We played games all day.
His phone buzzed almost immediately in response.
Good for you man ;)
Jeremy was about to reply with something sarcastic when Ryan reappeared and tossed him a leather jacket and his spare helmet.
“So, where am I taking you?”
Jeremy put on the jacket, rolling the sleeves up so they didn’t hang over his hands, “You know the apartment block on Boulevard Del Perro in Rockford Hills; just behind the Archipelago?”
Ryan nodded, “Yeah, I think I know the place, that’s not far. Have you ridden before?”
“Not for a long time,” Jeremy confessed.
Ryan pulled on his own jacket and grabbed his helmet, which Jeremy noted had a skull printed on the top. The getup actually made Ryan look like kind of a badass and Jeremy instantly knew he’d be a sucker for the look forever.
“Alright, just hold onto me and follow my movements, try not to balance the bike, got it?”
Jeremy nodded, “I can do that.”
They headed out to the garage, Ryan leading the way to his black and green Pegassi Bati 801 that he was quietly very proud of; climbing on and kicking the bike into gear, gesturing for Jeremy to climb on behind him as he put on his helmet.
Jeremy put his own helmet on and hopped on behind Ryan, holding himself stiffly upright on the back of the bike. Ryan shook his head and leaned back, pulling Jeremy’s arms around his waist. Something about being on the bike, not speaking through their helmets, over the revs of the engine of the bike, it just felt very intimate. Ryan seemed far more relaxed and comfortable than usual, and Jeremy had no problem trusting him, pressing his body up against Ryan’s broad back, locking his arms around his waist and going with the flow of the bike.
It felt completely natural; Jeremy felt safe, despite the fact that Ryan seemed to show no regard for the speed limit, even on the slick roads, in total control. Ryan seemed to be full of surprises and it thrilled Jeremy. It only fed his curiosity.
They were there in no time and Ryan pulled up out the front, the rapid deceleration pushing Jeremy even closer against Ryan. It somehow felt deliberate.
Jeremy climbed carefully off the bike, taking off his helmet, “Thanks for the ride.”
Phrasing. He thought wishfully, properly acknowledging the full extent of his feelings for Ryan for probably the first time consciously.
“Anytime. You can hold onto that helmet if you want, drop it off whenever, if you remember. Or maybe… maybe we could go for a proper ride sometime if you’d like?” Ryan could feel his cheeks glowing under the helmet. He had no idea when he’d gotten so rash, but the words kept on coming and there was no taking them back now. “Maybe when the weather’s nicer?”
“That’d be awesome!” Jeremy instantly blurted out. “…I was about to say I’ll see you tomorrow, but I forgot, I’m heading out to Vinewood to cover some of the election stuff. Burnie’s giving a press conference about something big and the boss wants me to write a piece for it…”
“Well, congratulations, that sounds like a step in the right direction.”
“Yeah, thanks. Either Matt or Trevor will be around to pick up the flowers tomorrow. But I’ll be in on Friday for next week’s order. Or maybe I’ll come by and drop off your helmet if I’m not swamped with work before then.”
“Yeah, sure,” Ryan nodded, “See you ‘round Jeremy. Was great to hang out with you.”
“You too, buddy. Catch you later!”
For the first time in a long time, Jeremy had a good feeling about where this was going.
Chapter 4
The week dragged on for Ryan. Jeremy’s work colleague, Matt – Ryan was able to put a name to a face finally – had come in early Monday morning to collect the flowers for the week. He seemed nice, he’d spoken of Jeremy very fondly. Ryan wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it though, he couldn’t tell if maybe there was something going on between them; he’d never been terrific at reading social cues, although Jeremy was just the kind of guy it was easy to speak highly of, so he tried not to think too hard about it. Still, he found himself waiting anxiously for Friday afternoon to roll around to speak to Jeremy again and maybe try to schedule another lazy Sunday of films and video games.
When Friday finally arrived it felt like even the minutes dragged on, but eventually, the last of the daily deliveries had gone out and Meg was assembling the budget bouquets destined for life as half-assed apologies, cheap first date gifts and romantic social lubricators for the non-imbibers, essentially boiling down to emotional bribery.
He really needed to stop thinking so hard about his job.
He was out the back of the store when the bell chimed and his heart leapt; he rushed to the doorway expecting to be greeted by Jeremy’s smiling face, but instead was met with a familiar mess of long hair and dark-rimmed glasses.
“Matt?”
Matt looked a little surprised to hear his name, he’d been a little distracted by Meg – not unusual, Ryan was used to that.
“Oh, hey, uh…”
“Ryan,” Ryan smiled and filled in his name, also used to people having forgotten, “no Jeremy today?”
Ryan felt a sudden twinge of worry as the look on Matt’s face suddenly grew serious.
Matt shook his head solemnly, “he’s in the hospital.”
Ryan’s stomach dropped, “I hope it’s not serious. Is everything ok?”
“You didn’t hear? He got caught up in that shooting at City Hall.”
“Holy shit, what happened?”
Meg’s head whipped around hearing Ryan swear; he was usually so professional in front of new customers.
“You don’t pay much attention to the news do you?” Matt raised an eyebrow.
Ryan blanched and grimaced. It was true, actually, he paid shockingly little attention to the news on a daily basis, but knowing that Jeremy was a journalist – or at least an aspiring one – he felt suddenly very guilty, and knowing he was in the hospital made him feel even worse.
“Which hospital?” Ryan asked, eyes narrowing.
“St Fiacre. He was originally taken to Pillbox Med centre, but once they stabilized him he was moved out. Too expensive to stay there. He’s doing better, at least going by his emails he seems to be,” Matt explained.
“Thank you,” Ryan nodded, eyes searching the ground aimlessly, almost as if they were looking for a way to make sure Jeremy was ok. He had to find out. He had to go visit him if he could.
Matt stood around awkwardly for a moment before Ryan realised he was probably there to put in an order. “I’m so sorry, did you want flowers for Monday?”
“Yeah, uh, whatever Jeremy usually gets, I suppose?”
Ryan nodded, mind already racing, “I’ll have something ready for pickup first thing Monday.”
Matt nodded but looked at him quizzically. “You should go visit Jeremy,” he said with a small smile, “I think it’d really make his day.”
Ryan blushed, he’d already had every intent to, but Matt clearly knew, which meant he knew about their developing friendship, which must mean that Jeremy had mentioned him at least once… or maybe Matt was just a particularly good judge of character. Ryan couldn’t be sure and found himself just more confused than anything.
Regardless, he resolved to go visit Jeremy as soon as he could the next day.
* * *
The last few days for Jeremy had been a blur. He had his own records of what had happened and Matt and Trevor had been in to check on him several times, even though he’d been doped up on painkillers on more than one occasion. He knew he’d been moved around and he’d had two surgeries and he was being kept for observation and to rest up – something about infections or something – he just wanted to get back to work. He had a big scoop to write. Luckily he could do some of it from his hospital bed while he was lucid.
Leslie had even come to check on him too, showing him the article she’d hastily written up for the website and that would be featured on the daily news.
His eyes had glossed over the words critically, picking them apart for accuracy as he was wont to do.
“An attempted assassination-” ok, that was overblown – they were probably just trying to scare him- “of one of the Los Santos Mayoral electoral candidates, ‘Burnie’ Burns today has left one of Weazel News’ own journalists-” ok, that was a bit of a stretch too, but Jeremy could forgive it- “in a critical condition at Saint Fiacre hospital suffering gunshot injuries. Los Santos Police and the FIB are yet to give an official statement, but claim that they haven’t ruled out the possibility of gang activity...”
Jeremy had rolled his eyes at the last line. Typical. The police blame gang activity for a drive-by shooting of a press conference of the one candidate looking to curb corruption in the force. Everyone knew the LSPD were more crooked than a hillbilly smile, they were the reason the gangs were such an issue. Jeremy had his own suspicions several of the gangs had been working with and even for the cops. It was one of the big stories he was coming closer to busting open, and with this new information, he was well on his way. But first he had to heal.
And stop thinking about Ryan.
That was the other big thing. Jeremy was pretty sure he’d made a complete fool of himself by asking for Ryan when he was coming out of surgery and the anaesthesia was wearing off. He couldn’t shake this odd feeling of guilt; that something might have happened and Ryan would never know how he felt. The fact that he was still thinking about him, wondering if he was wondering why he hadn’t come in to place his order today, he should call him. Although, he’d done all the ordering in person he’d never left a phone number, but he’d also never bothered to write down the one for the shop either. They’d dealt with everything in a very old-fashioned kind of way that suited them both, but in hindsight seemed a little… impractical.
He wanted to kick himself. It was late anyway, he could try to get a number tomorrow, call him…
And say what? Ok, that was a good point.
He decided that as soon as he was able, he’d go to the shop in person and talk to Ryan about how he felt. Find out if he felt the same and then take it from there. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it would do for now.
* * *
The hospital visiting hours were 10am-1pm.
Ryan took his lunch break early, carefully packed a small bouquet of flowers into his pannier bag and rode out to the hospital. He was nervous, it felt strangely intrusive. They hardly knew each other, but it felt like they’d been friends a lifetime.
He had flowers. That was it. He was dropping off flowers, as a get well soon gift. Test the waters. No need to rush into anything. He found himself rehearsing how the conversation may go in his head, and it helped… right until he was standing outside Jeremy’s door, flowers in one hand, his helmet in the other. He took a deep breath.
You can do this.
He knocked cautiously in the doorframe as he entered. There were other people in the room, but they had their own visitors. Jeremy was closest to the door, headphones on, typing something out on his phone. He looked up when Ryan walked in and did a double-take. His large, dark brown eyes lit up to see him.
“Ryan!”
Seeing him in one piece, Ryan let out a sigh of relief and smiled. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he was glad to see Jeremy ok.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just… I wanted to check you were ok,” Ryan stammered, completely forgetting his rehearsed lines: ‘I just wanted to drop off these flowers...’
“How’d you know I was here?” Jeremy asked, “Matt said something didn’t he?”
Ryan nodded, “Yeah, he seems pretty cool.”
“Don’t let him fool you, he’s actually a jerk,” Jeremy said with a dopey smile.
Ryan laughed, Jeremy wasn’t out of it, probably just enough to take the edge off.
“What happened?”
Jeremy shook his head, “I was covering a press conference by that Burnie guy, he was talking about corruption in the LSPD – go figure – his plan to overhaul the police force, take the city back to its roots… not the kinda stuff you want to go stirring up if you want to have a lifespan longer than the election process really. So it wasn’t that much of a surprise when there was a drive-by in an unmarked van. Everyone else hit the deck; guess I did the dumb thing by trying to help.”
Jeremy pulled down his gown, exposing the bloody gauze covering the bullet wound on his right shoulder. “Luckily it didn’t hit anything important.”
“Jesus, Jeremy, you’re lucky to be alive! Was anyone else hurt?”
“Nothing serious. Apparently the LSPD also need to retrain in shooting, or hire better lackeys…” Jeremy grinned and added, “speculation of course…”
“Of course,” Ryan rolled his eyes.
“But the best part? Exclusive scoop – got to ride with Burnie himself in the ambulance.”
“You’re kidding?”
Jeremy grinned, eyes sparkling, he triumphantly held up a voice recorder smeared with blood, “he figured it was the least he could do since I caught a bullet for him. Turns out he’s actually a great guy.”
“So you interviewed him immediately after being shot?” Ryan shook his head in disbelief, smiling giddily, a mixture of admiration and relief. “Jeremy, you amaze me.”
Jeremy laughed it off, but he was clearly blushing.
Ryan glanced down at the bunch of flowers he’d forgotten he’d been clutching probably a little too tightly to be considered good for them.
“Oh, and I got you something, to y’know, brighten up the room a bit,” he shrugged and handed them over.
Jeremy beamed up at him, before carefully eyeing the bunch.
“Alright, what do they say?” He asked suspiciously.
Ryan smiled slyly, “why do they have to say something? Maybe they’re just flowers?”
“Ryan?”
“Ok, they might say get well… but if I’d known how you got hurt they’d probably say something different.”
“Like you’re a hero? Or this guy’s awesome?” Jeremy teased.
Ryan laughed, “more like: you’re an idiot, but I’m glad you’re ok.”
“Aww. I’m just flattered you thought of me.”
Ryan felt his cheeks go red and waved at the flowers Jeremy was holding. It was a leafy, woody bouquet that smelled almost medicinal, but in a pleasant way, like fresh air in a forest.
“I made this one up with you in mind, actually. The smell is supposed to help you sleep too, so you can rest up.”
Jeremy eyed the bunch carefully, “The only thing I recognise in there is lavender… and if I remember correctly that meant good luck?”
Ryan nodded, “Uh huh. There’s oak leaves, cedar and juniper for strength and protection, but also for scent, they go with the lavender,” he pointed to the small pink and white blossoms and bright yellow clusters of flowers, “then there’s apple blossom and acacias for better things to come and positivity.”
Ryan neglected to mention the other meaning of yellow acacias was friendship and secret love.
“They’re awesome, thank you.”
He should say something. Jeremy could have died never knowing how he felt.
“You’re welcome.” It was all he could think to say.
A nurse came by to usher visitors out. Apparently visiting hours were strict, but Jeremy assured him he’d come by the shop as soon as he was able.
“Maybe we can have another lazy Sunday playing video games?” Ryan suggested on his way out.
Jeremy smiled back, “I’d like that.”
The whole ride home Ryan imagined how that might have gone differently if he’d just had the guts to tell Jeremy how he felt.
Chapter 5
It was another week before Ryan saw Jeremy again.
It was Saturday morning and Meg was out on her coffee run. Ryan had been updating the website and working out various social media platforms, creating business pages and looking into how better to advertise his custom arrangements, which had really been taking off lately.
Ryan was so focused he almost didn’t look up when the bell chimed for the front door, but when he did and saw Jeremy’s smile he had to physically shop himself from leaping out of his seat to hug him.
“Jeremy! You’re looking better, how’re you feeling?”
Jeremy rubbed his shoulder gently, “Still a little sore, but a lot less holey.”
“I didn’t realise you were sanctified, but that sure explains a lot,” Ryan joked.
Jeremy chuckled, “that kind of holy sounds a lot less painful.”
“Unless you’re Saint Peter, or Joan of Arc, or any of the other saints who suffered gruesome deaths…”
“Was Joan of Arc a saint?”
“I thought she was sainted?” Ryan shrugged, “Eh, you get what I mean.”
Jeremy laughed again, “At any rate, this whole ordeal was a good wake up call. I might finally have my big break with Weazel – the boss liked my interview and is considering my story as a major investigative piece that I get to head.”
“Congratulations! Jeremy, that’s really awesome,” Ryan grinned back at him. He should say something, he should tell him.
“But I also need your help with something,” Jeremy went on.
“Sure buddy, anything.”
Jeremy hesitated a moment.
“How do I tell someone I’m madly in love with them in flower?”
Ryan felt his heart sink. For a moment he forgot to breathe. Of course there was someone in Jeremy’s life. There had to be, didn’t there? He was sweet and funny and attractive… Ryan shut off the part of his brain that wanted nothing more than to scream out his frustration, taking a steadying breath and putting on a warm, professional smile.
The least you can do is help make him happy. Even if it’s with someone else.
“Well, that depends,” he started, feeling the quaver in his voice and clearing his throat to cover it, “you could go for something traditional, like red roses – they’re pretty unmistakable in terms of meaning, even if they’re sorta cliché…”
Jeremy shook his head, “It’s not really that kind of love, it’s more like a friendship that just …became more.”
Ryan nodded. He masked his emotions, even though it felt like a dagger to the heart. He was suddenly very glad he hadn’t said anything more when he’d visited Jeremy in hospital.
“In that case, maybe we’ll start with something like zinnias, they’re bright, come in a range of colours and mean friendship and lasting affection, and we can put them amidst ivy which is symbolic of friendship.”
“That sounds like something he’d like,” Jeremy nodded.
Ryan bit his lip hard. For a moment he’d thought his feelings were unrequited because Jeremy wasn’t inclined to date guys. And now that idea was shattered and it felt like the dagger in his heart had been twisted. He took a deep breath and nodded.
“Ok, umm… something simple then to finish it off, white myrtle is perfect, it just means simple love.”
Jeremy smiled, “that is perfect.”
“I take it he makes you happy?”
“More than anything.”
Ryan swallowed. He was almost shaking now, but he wore his mask perfectly. He wanted Jeremy to be happy.
“In that case, some of the big green and white caladium leaves to frame it all, and forget-me-nots, as a declaration of love.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“I can write down the meanings for you, so you can explain it,” Ryan offered, his façade unfaltering.
“No, that’s ok, I’ll remember the important bits, it’s the overall sentiment I’m going for.”
Ryan nodded, pretending to understand but his mind was still struggling to deal with this information, he felt it shutting down, numbing himself to the pain, trying not to think about what would happen to their friendship as time went on. If anything would change…
“When do you need them by?”
“The sooner the better. It’s taken a lot of nerve to work up to this, and it’s real important I let them know. I don’t want to leave it any longer than I have already.”
You can do this. Get a hold of yourself.
“No problem. I can have them done by this afternoon, if you wanna swing by at say… 3?”
Jeremy blushed and smiled and thanked him, and for the first time ever, Ryan was relieved that Jeremy was gone.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. For a moment, he thought he might. He ran his hands through his hair over and over and took a long breath in, holding it as long as he could and letting it all out.
Of course there was someone in Jeremy’s life.
Ryan wanted to be happy for him. He was. He wanted him to be happy.
But he also wanted to be happy with him.
There was nothing he could do but his job. He took another deep breath and got to work.
He spent the next few hours convincing himself the flowers were for Jeremy’s love who deserved to know how Jeremy felt about him. They deserved to be happy together and Ryan would be happy for them. The man Jeremy was in love with was a model, a philanthropist, with an amazing sense of humour, a body to die for and a holiday house in Milan; because that’s what Jeremy deserved.
Not someone who felt the sting of jealousy so acutely.
Not him.
By the time he put the finishing touches on the bouquet he felt numb.
* * *
Jeremy lingered out the front of the store, working up his nerve to go in.
Ryan knew, it was so obvious. It was so corny though, why hadn’t he said anything? Called him out? What if he didn’t feel the same way? If he was going along with it hoping they were for someone else? What if he was about to put him in a really awkward positon? This wasn’t exactly the kind of stunt a friendship could survive, was it?
This was a bad idea.
He felt a twinge in his shoulder where the stitches from the bullet wound snagged on the bandage covering it and was reminded how close he’d come to losing his opportunity to say anything at all.
“No it isn’t,” Jeremy reassured himself aloud, “you gotta tell him how you feel.”
He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the little bell above the door singing out like a bird announcing his arrival. One of the assistants – Meg – Jeremy recognized, immediately ducked out the back and a few seconds later Ryan emerged, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers.
“Hey Jeremy,” he said, somewhat less enthusiastically than usual.
Jeremy felt his palms sweating.
“I think it turned out really well,” Ryan placed the bouquet on the table, in a little stand he had so Jeremy could inspect it.
It was beautiful. Bright purple and orange zinnias stood out amongst the white crepe-paper like myrtle and scattered blue forget-me-nots, the ivy and – Jeremy assumed – caladium leaves framed the bunch perfectly and cascaded over the sides. Ryan had wrapped it in dark green tissue paper and black cellophane, providing a neat contrast to the bright flowers.
“I went with bold colours. I figured you wanted to make a statement. I can change them out for something less dramatic if you’d prefer though.”
Jeremy shook his head; he couldn’t stop smiling, “No, they’re perfect.”
Ryan smiled and despite the fact he sounded flat, he seemed genuinely happy, “Well, I’m glad. I hope they do the job.”
Jeremy picked up the bouquet, held it for a moment and handed it back to Ryan.
Ryan looked confused, taking the bunch instinctively, with a frown.
“You tell me.”
“Huh?” Ryan’s eyebrows knitted together as he put the flowers back in their holder, eyes scanning Jeremy’s face.
“They’re for you.”
Ryan looked at him, confused, maybe even a little scared and Jeremy was instantly worried.
“I… I just need a minute,” Ryan stammered as he turned and hurried to the back room.
Jeremy was dumbstruck. His mind raced through possibilities.
Oh god, I fucked up. He doesn’t like me. He has a boyfriend. He has a girlfriend. He’s married with 2 kids… ok, probably not that, but... Fuck. I fucked up.
Jeremy could feel his face flushing, imagined it glowing pink with embarrassment. Ryan hadn’t returned.
Jeremy took his cue to leave. He left the flowers where they were and tried to leave quietly, only barely disturbing the bell on his way out.
It wasn’t until he got to his car that he felt the tears stinging his eyes.
Dark storm clouds had rolled in and the rain broke just as he started his engine.
As he drove away, he didn’t notice Ryan looking for him out the front of the shop, clutching the flowers to his chest, his own eyes tearing up.
* * *
The rain persisted well into the evening.
Jeremy felt awful. He’d gotten back to his apartment and blasted the stereo.
He screamed, he cried, he hit things. He was angry with himself for misreading the situation, for acting so rash, for not being a normal human and just asking Ryan out. Anything that wouldn’t have totally risked their friendship.
In the end, once there were no more tears, his voice was hoarse and the neighbours had complained, he just felt crushed. He curled up on the couch and checked his emails on his phone. Leslie had given him the green light on that big piece. She wanted him to take a role as lead editor. Big celebrations were in order.
It barely registered.
A knock on the door would have startled him if he felt anything other than empty.
Probably another neighbour coming to check on him. He’d been quiet for a while now; at least they cared enough to check. He groaned and contemplated ignoring it, but his sense of responsibility won out in the end and he forced himself to get up and answer it.
He opened the door and was met by a familiar black and blue leather jacket and mop of sandy hair, a skull-emblazoned helmet in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. He was drenched through, water dripped down his face, but his blue eyes shone just as brightly as the day they first met.
“Oh thank God,” Ryan muttered with a relieved sigh, “I’ve knocked on every door in this damned building.”
Jeremy sniffed and wiped his face with one hand almost not believing what he saw. “Ryan, what are you…?”
“Jeremy, I’m so sorry. I… I… just, here,” he stammered and shoved the flowers he’d been holding towards Jeremy, “they say it better than I can.”
Jeremy scoffed a disbelieving laugh as he looked at the bunch. It was composed of fragrant white flowers that Jeremy recognised as gardenias and delicate white geraniums, large purple and yellow irises, with clusters of starlike purple flowers growing on long stems, and tall, white flowers with orange centres that looked like daffodils protruding from the bouquet. The bunch was wrapped with ivy and twine, without any of Ryan’s usual tissue paper, cellophane or ribbon trimmings.
He looked back up at Ryan, the look on Ryan’s face pained, apologetic; Jeremy was lost. The only thing he could think to say was: “I don’t speak flower.”
Ryan smiled, the kind of smile that spread to his eyes, “Geraniums for stupidity – my stupidity –”
Jeremy started to interrupt him, but Ryan ignored him and went on, “purple hyacinths mean ‘please forgive me’, you already know ivy, and irises mean ‘your friendship means so much to me’…”
Jeremy smiled, relieved that Ryan wanted to keep their friendship intact. It felt like a huge weight had lifted, knowing he hadn’t destroyed what they had before. Even if Ryan wasn’t interested in him, he could live with that, knowing he had him as a friend.
“Gardenias mean ‘secret love’, and these ones that look like daffodils are jonquils,” Ryan went on, “and they’re symbolic of affection returned.”
As Jeremy processed the words, the grin on his face spread.
“So basically, what I’m saying is that: I’m an idiot, and I love you too.”
Jeremy nearly leapt into his arms, embracing him in a tight hug, almost in tears again. Ryan dropped his helmet and hugged Jeremy back, laughing.
“Could we be bigger dorks?” Ryan asked, leaning his head against Jeremy’s.
Jeremy sighed into him, “Not if we tried.”
Epilogue
A year after the ridiculous circumstances of their confessions of love, they’d affectionately dubbed: ‘the dorkening’, Jeremy had moved into Ryan’s apartment and they’d been living together for a few months.
Ryan’s little business had taken off, with the help of social media and online advertising, encouraged by Jeremy, and Jeremy was increasingly getting higher profile stories, following the election of Mayor Burns. Ryan would make dinner for Jeremy on special occasions, and it turned out he was in fact a pretty good cook, although Ryan still hadn’t managed to get Jeremy to sit all the way through all the Star Wars films. He had higher hopes, and secret plans for getting him into Firefly.
They’d both promised they wouldn’t do anything special for their anniversary, it was supposed to be a night of video games and maybe some fun later on. That said, Ryan was hardly surprised when after dinner, Jeremy retrieved a bouquet of flowers from the closet where he’d been hiding them and handed them over with a cheeky grin.
“What does this say in flower?”
Ryan looked through the bunch, carefully taking in every flower.
“Hmmm… Red, white and blue?” Ryan pretended to ponder, “It’s the 4th of July?”
“Smartass. C’mon, I wanna know if I screwed it up.”
“Did you make this yourself?”
Jeremy blushed, “I tried… Ashley might have helped a little too.”
Ryan was actually touched. He inspected the bunch carefully; it was messily composed of blue and white violets, blue indicating faithfulness and loyalty, white a proposition: ‘let’s take a chance on happiness’. Scattered amongst them were three red tulips, a declaration of love, but not so blatant as roses, they often suggested an element of sincerity. But in the centre of the bunch, commanding attention, was an intricate and beautiful bloom of small flowers, white and pale green, with long, spindly stamens reaching out in all directions. A spider flower. It meant ‘elope with me.’
Ryan made a noise he didn’t think he’d ever made before, before catching himself and looking back up to Jeremy, who was looking right back with a combination of adoration and nervous anticipation, biting his lip as Ryan took it all in.
“So…?”
“First, I have something for you…”
“Aww, Ryan!”
Ryan grinned back at him with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. As he retrieved a box from under the bed.
“Look, this is gonna sound strange, but as much as I love working with flowers, there are some times when I don’t like to give them as gifts. Especially to people who are really important to me,” he looked at Jeremy and cocked an eyebrow to let him know he was referring to him. Well duh.
“…mostly because they’re so temporary, and while there’s some poetic beauty in that, when you put so much effort into something only to see it wilt and die, it gets depressing.”
Jeremy shrugged, “Well, nothing’s meant to last forever.”
Ryan nodded, handing Jeremy a large black box wrapped in green ribbon, “that’s true, but the least we can do is try…”
Jeremy hesitantly tugged away the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside was a small vase, packed full of origami flowers. There were dozens of them, all different colours and shapes and sizes. It was just as beautiful as any of Ryan’s live flower arrangements …because he’s a goddamned artist. Jeremy thought.
“This must have taken you hours!”
“About 12 all up, I think,” Ryan smiled, “It’d better be worth it.”
Jeremy looked at his own bunch, remembering his original, literal, proposal, “So… wait, does that mean …that’s a yes?”
Ryan smiled, eyes shimmering with happy tears, “Yeah Jeremy, that’s a hard yes.”
