Ok, but can you imagine John being scared shitless of the flowers at first, but since he doesn’t want to cut them off in self-harm (You’ll understand later in the explanation, but that’d be the only way Dave would be able to physically hurt when self-harming.) and couldn’t bear to do it, he actually starts to care for them in the most loving way? And when a new one grows, he just greets it into the family? Even if it burns when they get through his skin, sometimes waking him up in gasps in the middle of the night. And it actually hurts *him* instead of Dave… who *thinks* it’s depression preventing him from feeling physical pain, but he’s actually just hurting John instead, wherever he is.
And as Dave’s scars turn white with time, the flowers wither and leave John without hurting him. But that’s only when Dave truly heals. And John gets his own, identical scars. Slits across his arms where each flower he cared for grew, in a reminder of stranger times, when he had to hide a very odd disability of a sort.
The two of them don’t actually know each other through any of that, at that point. They are both young, and far apart.
But when they grow up, and John stops getting flowers, he actually becomes a florist. And then Dave comes across him, one day.
Dave always. Always hides his scars in public. Heck: He barely wants to see them himself, let alone show them to anybody else. They remind him of bad times, when even cutting didn’t stop the pain, despite his assumptions that it ought’ve. They remind him of a time when the shrink bills were insane, and even if he pulled through, in the end, he still isn’t proud of those dark days. He regards them with shame.
But as he sees John that one time, just as he happens to pass by his little shop, he can’t help noticing rolled up sleeves that quite obviously put in evidence whitened scars, when he wipes at his own forehead, somewhat breaking in sweat.
Why would anyone showcase them like that?
John notices him staring. He smiles, and Dave walks away, flustered a bit at being caught. But he comes back the next week, because people at the office have been telling him to please put some life in his brand new workspace. Not that the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff posters aren’t on their way, but he does as told anyway. He goes to buy a plant.
That’s when he first interacts with John.
The fucking bugger. He seems to have this batshit crazy good memory, and can actually tell that they had this weird eye contact thing the week before. And he even talks about it while giggling!
He has no right to be so cute about this. Dave doesn’t even know what’s to laugh about. Yet it’s sort of contagious, coming from this man, and he sorta smiles back, amused.
John calls it a victory, and extends his hand to introduce himself. The rest is history.
… yeah I. I’m gonna tell it anyway, hahaha!
Dave starts visiting frequently. John is just so goddamn friendly to everyone and lifts his spirits the way neons above his head all day just can’t quite manage to do for some forsaken reason. And despite his merely being a usual customer, at first, they actually seem to become buddies. Cinema is a frequent date. Otherwise they discover that they both enjoy gaming (and the differences in the types of games they like just seem to amuse Dave) they go grab a bite together sometimes, start hanging out at work, after work, before work, during Dave’s hard-earned vacation… “Why are you still at that job, Dave? It doesn’t even remotely suit you.”
There are brushes of hands, sometimes. There are awkward moments when they dive into the popcorn at the same time. Or when John elects to take the same armrest as Dave, snickering as he calls it an accident, yet leaves his hand over his best friend’s for a whole hour. Each little thing seems to be perfectly tuned to drive Dave absolutely nuts. There is even this one moment where he sees John’s eyes flicker down to his lips, and he freezes with a sort of anticipation mixed with an ache. And longing… and he barely tilts his head that his breath is already quickened. He can hear– feel John’s breath catch, but he pulls away, laughing, and the moment is gone.
But something has shifted, and John isn’t quite the same, after that.
He soon finds a girlfriend just when Dave admits to himself that he has long since fallen, and is now head over heels for John.
So Dave punches a wall so hard it opens a gash on one of his knuckles.
John has a flower on his hand, the next day he sees him.
Dave is aghast. It’s the weirdest, single most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And so ensues a long night of explanations around a few drinks.
Very specific dates are thrown out into that conversation. In fact, it turns Dave’s stomach, because he eventually makes the link. He eventually figures out something so impossible, that it shouldn’t be right. Yet he gets the feeling that… hm. Well.
The flower stays on for a while. In fact, John’s girlfriend breaks up with him. It’s too bizarre a condition, and John isn’t even decent enough to be freaked out about it?? Ugh!
John doesn’t seem to mind all that much, though. His eyes are always cast downwards towards that flower, even if it caused him pain, or so he admitted to Dave. And when they are not, they are cautiously up on dave’s own eyes.
It nearly makes him sick, he loves him so much.
But he says nothing about it. Last time something semi-happened, John absconded. And it hurt like hell. He doesn’t want to lose the guy.
So he doesn’t make any moves any more. Not even ironically. He even retreats his hand now, when it touches John’s for whatever reason. And it wrenches his heart when beautiful blue eyes snap up to his own, a little pained, until a smile reaches them immediately after.
John doesn’t take the bullshit for too long. Barely two months, not much more. “Why do you do that? You didn’t use to do that. Are you mad at me?”
“M’not mad. You just don’t understand, Egbert.”
Hence starts the explanations, because Dave has also had enough. Does John understand how it even feels to flee a contact you are growing hungrier for each day? He figured he would have fallen out of love by now but—oh shit.
Forget it. It doesn’t matter.
And then John is all weird again. Of course he was going to be. That small hope he hadn’t yet been able to completely crush flickers off, as John becomes uncharacteristically shy and sheepish and looking down. And that pains Dave.
“It’s fine, John. Don’t worry about it. Don’t even so much as think about it. It’s not actually something you should make a big deal out of.”
The guy doesn’t say a word. But he does step a bit closer, and sort of… takes Dave’s hand in the most delicate, cutest way he’s ever experienced, and his brain just goes into a meltdown after the wave of shock this STUPID, stupid, nearly childishly innocent contact sends through him, pinning him right to the spot.
He manages to squeeze uncertainly, at least. And to his immense relief and pleasure, John squeezes back, still not yet meeting his eyes.
And he talks. He explains himself. There’s been a lot of that between the two, recently. He talks about denial. About feelings he didn’t understand. He apologizes. He says he never meant to hurt him.
And when he finally looks up, he is so eager, so open and vulnerable and—
It’s all Dave can do not to press forward and kiss him.
Except he doesn’t have to. John tips forward, stretching his body upwards as he gets on his toes, and merely brushes their lips together tentatively.
Until he pulls Dave lower with a hand that seems to suddenly be around his neck, and they are kissing right there, and it’s all the relief either of them could ever have asked for, and it washes Dave’s unrequited longing and aching away, and all is well.
ellievsbear
prguitarman
dededos
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
