Chapter Text
“Shit, shit, shit,” Jimin mutters to himself as he stumbles out of the shower and dries off faster than he thought is possible. His mom’s party is in forty five minutes and it will take him half an hour to get to his parents’ house, and his nerves are through the roof.
Today is Jimin’s mom’s birthday, and he hasn’t even had time to buy her the usual bouquet of flowers he gets her every year because he’s been so busy with school lately. He’d just gotten back from dance practice not even ten minutes ago, showering at the speed of light and almost knocking himself out with his own flailing limbs in his hurry to soap himself up.
Still disgustingly damp, Jimin grits his teeth in effort while he tugs on a pair of tight black jeans, cursing the moisture clinging to his legs. He throws on a soft blue sweater and towel dries his hair quickly, tousling the messy black locks even more. Then he’s slipping on his shoes and is out the door.
Jimin clambers down the stairs of his apartment building, legs burning from his workout earlier, and pulls out his phone. He searches up nearby flower shops, since he only recently moved to this area and doesn’t know it very well yet.The closest one says it's about three blocks away, so Jimin begins jogging, his damp hair bouncing as he goes.
Jimin is panting, legs aching and lungs burning by the time he reaches the flower shop. He has to double over to catch his breath, eyeing the dainty shop with interest from his hunched over position. There are bright displays of flowers in the window, and the shop gives off a cozy, relaxed sort of vibe.
What’s Up, Buttercup, the sign says in cute yellow cursive, and Jimin would giggle at the name if he could actually breath.
There’s a guy standing outside, leaning against the grey stones of the shop, smoking a cigarette and watching Jimin in what looks like amusement. Aware of how ridiculous he must look, face red from exertion, hair wild, and breathing harsh as if he’d just run a marathon, Jimin blushes and stands up straight. He self-consciously runs a hand through his hair and takes tentative steps towards the door, eyeing the man in his peripheral.
He’s cute, Jimin notices when he gets close, in a rugged, bad boy sort of way. He’s got bleach blonde hair and super pale, soft looking skin. He’s got the collar of his black leather jacket popped, probably to protect as much of his face as possible from the chilly fall air. One of his combat-booted feet is propped on the wall behind him, and Jimin eyes his ripped black jeans in interest. The fingers casually holding the cigarette to his plump lips are long and slender, Jimin can’t help but noticing.
The man quirks a brow at him, a smirk pulling at his lips. “See something you like?” He asks in a drawl, voice deep and a little raspy, and Jimin realizes with mortification that he’s been staring.
His eyes widen and he splutters, feeling his whole face lighting up. “W-what? No! Of course not, I just, uh…” Jimin struggles to come up with an excuse, growing hotter when the man’s smirk widens. He blurts out his next words without thinking. “Smoking is bad for you!”
The man pauses in taking a puff of his cigarette. He blinks at Jimin a few times, looking faintly amused, and Jimin wants to die. Then the man winks--fucking winks--at Jimin, and takes a drag of the cigarette.
“Noted,” he says, blowing out the smoke with exaggerated slowness, and Jimin has never been more embarrassed in his life.
Suddenly remembering that he’s on a schedule, Jimin gives the man a jerky little bow and spins around, pushing open the door of the shop and fleeing inside, the overhead bell ringing his arrival.
Inside, the shop is filled with every kind of flower Jimin can imagine, and he takes a moment to simply gaze around in awe. It’s about average size for a flower shop, but it's packed full of so much plant life that it seems a lot smaller.
He’s the only one inside, and he doesn’t see anyone at the front desk. Jimin glances at his phone and bites his lip when he sees the time. He still has to catch the bus and make it to his parents’ house, and it doesn’t seem like anyone is here.
The bell rings behind him, hitting Jimin’s back with a blast of cold air. He turns around to see the cigarette man coming inside, sans cigarette. Jimin flushes and quickly whips around, skittering off to go look at a bundle of carnations. Jimin looks around again, growing desperate because he needs to get out of here as fast as he can.
Jimin is startled when the blonde man crosses the store and walks behind the counter, leaning against it and eyeing Jimin in amusement. “How can I help you?”
Jimin stares at him for a second, brain short circuiting. “You work here?”
The man smirks and laces his long fingers together. “Why do you look so surprised?”
Jimin feels himself blushing again so he quickly ducks his head and pretends to examine the flowers in front of him. “Um, I need a bouquet for my mom,” he says, picking up a pink carnation and fiddling with it. “It’s her birthday today.”
The man nods and straightens up, already looking around at the possibilities. “Want it to mean anything?”
Jimin looks up at him and frowns. “Uh…'I love you, mom’?”
He’s sure the man snorts, but his back is now turned to Jimin as he wades through the flowers and he can’t see his face.
Jimin goes up to the front counter while he waits, impatiently checking his phone every few seconds. He focuses his attention on the little vase of bright yellow buttercups by the cash register, pointedly not watching the man since he’s already been caught staring once.
Finally, after what feels like forever but in reality has probably only been five minutes, the blonde comes back behind the counter and places a collection of flowers down on the wood surface. Jimin spots a few white carnations, some stalks of deep purple heliotrope and small, dainty violets, a couple sprigs of yellow daylilies, a single sunflower, and a cluster of the same bright yellow buttercups by the register.
Jimin watches as he arranges the flowers to his liking, then grabs some white raffia from under the counter and bind all the stems together. He then wraps the bouquet in brown tissue paper and holds in out for Jimin.
An involuntary coo escapes Jimin when he takes the flowers and examines them. It’s a beautiful arrangement, purples and yellows with the accent of white. It smells heavenly too when Jimin holds it up to his nose and inhales deeply.
“It’s beautiful,” Jimin says in awe, staring at the man with wide eyes.
Up close, Jimin can see that he has multiple piercings in both ears and a silver stud through his left eyebrow. There’s a tattoo of a black and grey sparrow entwined around a rose on his throat, and black flower-esque designs on each of his knuckles. He also has an intricate mandala on the back of his right hand. Who would have thought someone so tough and intimidating looking could make such a beautiful and delicate floral arrangement?
Instead of thanking Jimin for the compliment, the man just smiles a little smugly and rings Jimin’s total up on the register. Jimin searches him for a nametag while he rings him up, but finding none, he pouts a little.
The man tells Jimin his total, and he shifts the bouquet in his arms to reach into his pants for his wallet. He hands the payment over and blushes a little when their fingers touch. A tingle shoots up Jimin’s arm and he quickly retracts his hand, hoping the man didn’t notice his little surprised inhale. While the blonde counts out Jimin’s change, he checks his phone and almost yelps when he sees the time.
“Thanks for the bouquet,” Jimin says before spinning around and all but sprinting towards the door.
“Your change!” The man calls behind him.
“Keep it!” Jimin waves wildly over his shoulder. Then he pushes through the door and races away.
Even though he was ten minutes late, the party goes off without a hitch, and his mother goes crazy over the bouquet. Her eyes tear up as she strangles Jimin in a hug.
“It's beautiful, Jimin-ah,” she says, voice all watery and choked up, and Jimin shoots his dad a panicked look in search of help.
“Dear, how about some cake?” His dad asks loudly, winking at Jimin when his son smiles gratefully. Jimin’s mom gasps and releases him, bounding into the kitchen excitedly.
When the whole family has a piece of cake and are spread around eating, Jimin’s grandma sits down next to him on the couch. “So, Jimin-ah,” the old woman, wrinkled and grey, begins nonchalantly, and Jimin tenses up and subtly shrinks away. He recognizes that tone. That’s the ‘are you seeing anyone?’ tone.
“Are you dating anyone yet?” She asks casually, and Jimin has to force himself to not roll his eyes. His two nosy aunts perk up and shuffle closer to hear his answer.
“Not right now, halmeoni,” Jimin says politely, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth. The three women visibly droop at his response, disappointed that there’s no new gossip.
Jihyun, Jimin younger brother, must see how uncomfortable the cornered Jimin is, because he flings himself onto the couch on Jimin’s other side, a smudge of chocolate frosting on the corner of his mouth. He eyes their grandmother mischievously and leans across Jimin towards her.
“Are you dating anyone yet, halmeoni?” He waggles his eyebrows at her, and Jimin has to stifle a laugh at the scandalized expression on her face.
“Why, you little!” The old woman gasps, whapping Jihyun upside the head. His brother just laughs and leans away before she can get in another smack, rubbing his head dramatically with a wounded expression.
“Oh, come on. Halabeoji’s been gone for ten years already,” Jihyun states, finally noticing the frosting on his mouth and licking it away. “Surely it’s time to put yourself back on the market?”
Jimin is fighting a smile and his aunts are openly snickering at their mother’s outraged expression. She adjusts her little round glasses with a huff and fixes Jihyun with a beady glare.
“Yah, you little brat! I’m eighty eight years old,” she says angrily, and Jihyun just shrugs
“So? All the more reason to get back out there, since you don’t have much time left and all.”
Their grandmother squawks in outrage and the aunts fucking lose it, laughing wildly when their mother reaches across Jimin and grabs Jihyun tightly by his ear and tugs sharply. “Ow!” Jihyun cries, his eyes pricking with tears as he tries to pry her claw-like hand away.
Hearing all the commotion in the living room, Jimin’s dad comes out of the kitchen, and his eyes widen at the spectacle before him. “Eomma, what are you doing?” He demands, reaching out in an attempt to help his youngest son, not quite sure what to do.
“Your brat needs to learn some manners, Seokwon-ah,” she growls, giving Jihyun’s ear one last tug before letting go.
Jihyun flees immediately, jumping up off the couch and making a break for the kitchen. Jimin watches him go with a fond smile and settles in to enjoy the rest of the party.
Jimin collapses to the floor of the practice room when Hoseok finally turns the music off. He’s drenched in sweat and his lungs feel like they’re about to explode, his legs burning and his arms aching. Jungkook flops down next to him and passes him a water bottle, which Jimin cracks open and gulps down in one go, dribbling some down his chin in his haste.
“Thanks, Kook,” Jimin says, wiping away the water and running a hand through his damp black hair.
“Nice job, guys,” Hoseok says, grabbing his own water and taking a long drag. “The choreography is turning out nicely.”
They take a few minutes to cool down, chatting idly amongst themselves. It’s when Jimin is grabbing his gym bag from the corner of the dance studio that he remembers.
“Oh, hyung,” Jimin turns to Hoseok. “You’re coming to Tae’s opening tomorrow, right?”
Hoseok grins at him and nods enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Jimin glances at Jungkook, who has his back turned to them but is obviously listening. “Hey, Kook,” Jimin says, and Jungkook turns around to look at him curiously. “You should come.”
When Jungkook just look adorably confused, Jimin smiles. “You know my best friend, Taehyung, right?” Jimin asks, trying not to giggle when Jungkook’s cheeks turn a little pink and he nods shyly. Jungkook and Taehyung share a few classes together, and Jimin knows for a fact that they’re both pining after each other. “Well, some of his artwork is being featured in an exhibition tomorrow. It’s kind of a big thing, and he’s really excited. You should come, if you’re not busy or anything.”
Jungkook bites his lip and looks uncertain, twisting the strap of his gym bag nervously. Jimin takes pity on him and just smiles reassuringly. “I’ll just text you the details and you can decide later, okay?”
“Okay,” Jungkook nods, smiling a little as well. Jimin doesn’t know Jungkook that well, since he’d only transferred to their university a few weeks ago and joined the dance group even more recently, but he seems nice and polite. And “absolutely fucking adorable, holy shit”, if what Taehyung says is true.
Jimin bids farewell to his dance partners and starts the chilly outdoor walk to the university bus stop.
After Jimin gets back to his apartment, he texts Jungkook the location and time of the art opening before getting in the shower. He washes away all the sweat and grime from practice, and even though his body is aching by the time he gets out, he feels refreshed and clean afterwards.
Lying in bed that night, Jimin realizes he should probably get Taehyung some flowers for tomorrow. Which means...shit.
That cute tattooed boy at What’s Up, Buttercup.
Sure, he could go to a different shop, but they’re all further away and, according to google, pricier.
And, okay, maybe Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little interested in seeing the blonde bad boy again. He has a type, okay? Sue him.
Once he’s decided on this plan of action, it takes a while for Jimin to fall asleep, giddy about tomorrow.
Since Taehyung’s opening is semi formal, Jimin opts for simple and elegant. Black slacks and a black, tucked in, silk button up shirt under a sleek, dark grey blazer that has subtle silver designs etched into it. He parts his black hair on his cowlick to reveal his forehead, and then has to keep reminding himself not to run his hands through it and mess it up.
Excited about tonight and also nervous about possibly seeing the blonde man at the floral shop, Jimin forces himself to remain at a measured pace as he walks down the street, instead of running like a maniac like last time.
When he sees What’s Up, Buttercup ahead, there’s no one outside smoking this time, and Jimin tries not to take that as a bad sign. Taking a deep breath, heart beating just a little faster than usual, he pushes through the door, the bell above welcoming him merrily.
The sweet, heady scent of flowers greets Jimin as he looks around, and his eyes immediately lock on the the blonde man sitting at a stool behind the counter, reading a book with a pair of heavy headphones settled over his ears. He hasn’t seemed to notice Jimin’s arrival, and Jimin drifts off to look at the flowers, not quite sure what to do. Should he go up to the man or wait for him to notice Jimin on his own?
Jimin stops between a slot of irises and lilies to see a single stalk of red geranium drooping in its water. The buds are dry and crispy and the stem is droopy and brittle, and Jimin assumes this one was missed when the latest batch of fresh flowers came in. He pokes at the petals and one of the buds breaks away and flutters down onto the concrete ground.
The man at the register takes that moment to notice Jimin. He looks up and his eyebrows shoot up when he sees Jimin standing amongst the flowers. He puts down his book and slides his headphones off to rest around his neck.
“How did your mom like the flowers?” He calls, startling Jimin. He feels heat rising to his cheeks at being caught so distracted and forces himself to remain composed. He can’t help but feel a little bit happy that the man remembers him, though.
Jimin steps out into the main aisle, giving the man an unobstructed view of himself. He watches at the blonde’s eyes widen a little and his mouth goes a bit slack, and he gives Jimin the most obvious once over he’s ever experienced. Jimin can practically feel the man’s gaze burning into him as it tracks over his body, and when he stops in front of the counter, he looks up at Jimin and fucking smirks. Jimin feels his face turning red as a tomato.
“She, uh,” Jimin squeaks, his cheeks on fire. “She loved them. Couldn’t stop raving about them.”
The blonde nods and pushes his book aside, props his elbows on the counter, laces his fingers together and rests his chin on top of them. His gaze bores into Jimin until he’s forced to look away, instead focusing on the yellow buttercups next to the register.
“So, what can I do for you this time?”
Jimin reaches up to run a hand through his hair, but then thinks better of it and lets him arm drop back to his side. “Something for my best friend. He has a big art show today.”
The blonde hums and slides of the stool, walking around the counter and out into the sea of flowers. He’s wearing the leather jacket again, and though his jeans are a dark wash blue this time, they’re still ripped and holey. Jimin’s eyes slide down and he notes with interest that the man has a cute round butt. He quickly jerks his gaze away before he gets caught, though. He knows if the blonde were to catch Jimin ogling his ass, he’d never be able to live it down.
Jimin idly strokes the soft yellow petals of one of the buttercups while he waits, not noticing when the blonde glances back at him and scratches at his arm. The bell dings again and Jimin looks back to see an old woman with greying hair and a silk blue nightie shuffle in. She looks around and spots the man by the hydrangeas, and a smile splits her face.
“Ah, Yoongi-yah!” She exclaims, and he looks up at her in surprise. The genuine smile that takes over the man’s--Yoongi’s?--face has Jimin’s heart rate picking up a little.
“Hi, Meelin-ssi,” Yoongi greets her. “How are you?”
Meelin grins and waddles over to him, a smug smile on her face. “I’m absolutely wonderful, dear. That bouquet you made me was a hit with the ladies at my knitting club. So much better than Lee Chaesun’s,” the old woman cackles gleefully. “You should have seen the look on her face when I pulled it out. She turned all red and splotchy and glared at me for the rest of the night.”
Yoongi grins and winks at her. “That’s my girl.”
Meelin giggles and blushes and slaps Yoongi on the arm. “Well, I’m back because I need a bouquet for my granddaughter’s graduation. She's graduating top of her class, can you believe it?”
“Of course,” Yoongi says, sliding out a crocus from its bundle. “Let me just finish this order and I’ll make that up for you.”
Meelin tells Yoongi to take his time before shuffling off to go look at the roses. Jimin turns back to the counter and tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.
Yoongi comes back a few minutes later and lays down the flowers he’s chosen on the counter. There’s a few coral colored roses, some stalks of goldenrod, the purple crocus, some buttercups, which Jimin thinks might be Yoongi’s signature.
And…
A red geranium.
It’s fresh and new, petals bright red and stem deep green and healthy.
Now, Jimin is absolutely positive that there were no other red geraniums when he was over there. Only that wilted dead one.
His confused thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi asking, “What do you think?”
Jimin blinks a few times, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yes. Good. Pretty,” he croaks, staring hard down at his shoes.
Yoongi quirks a brow at him and Jimin swears he hears Yoongi mutter “Pretty,” under his breath, but when Jimin looks sharply up at him, Yoongi is busy sorting out the flowers to his preference and is paying Jimin no mind.
Jimin watches as he arranges the stems and pulls out some brown raffia from under the counter. He ties them up quickly and wraps a sheet of white paper around the stems before holding it out to Jimin. The arrangement is bright and spunky, just like Taehyung, and Jimin thinks it’s perfect.
He says as much, and Yoongi smiles and rings up his total. He hands over his payment, but he simply can’t stop staring at the red geranium poking out from between the goldenrod.
“Will I be seeing you again?” Yoongi asks, startling Jimin. He looks up to see the blonde smirking at him again, and Jimin flushes.
“Uh...probably,” he says without thinking, mind still focused on the geranium.
“Oh? Well then, I look forward to it,” Yoongi looks like he’s fighting a smug smile, and Jimin wants the ground to swallow him up, cheeks turning hot.
Jimin dips his head to Yoongi in a bow before spinning around and making a break for the door, bouquet clutched tight to his chest. He hears Yoongi greet Meelin as she moves up to the counter, hears them laugh together, and Jimin prays he doesn’t trip as he hurries away.
As he’s passing, Jimin looks over to where he’d been standing before. The slot of water containing the dead geranium is empty.
Taehyung’s opening goes great. He loved the flowers and strangled Jimin in a bear hug when he’d given them to him. Hoseok and Namjoon and Jin showed up to support their friend, all raving about Taehyung’s weird clown inspired paintings that were being featured. Taehyung had been dressed much like Jimin was, just with his usual grey beanie on his head to hide his hybrid tiger ears.
Halfway through the event, Jungkook had showed up, looking dapper in black slacks and a simple white button up shirt. Taehyung’s words had died in his throat when he saw Jungkook from across the room, eyes bugging out and face turning red.
Jungkook had glanced around aimlessly, looking awkward and out of place until Jimin had waved wildly at him from across the room.
“Kookie! Over here!”
Taehyung had let out a strangled croak and whipped around at stare at Jimin. “You invited Jungkook?” He spluttered, wild-eyed and panicking.
Jimin laughed at his friend’s expression and slapped him on the shoulder. “You weren’t gonna do it, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”
Taehyung was about to flip out when Jungkook arrived next to them. “Kook-ah, you made it!” Hoseok grins excitedly, welcoming him with a customary bro-hug.
“Hi, hyung,” Jungkook said quietly with a soft smile. Both he and Taehyung happened to look at each other at the same time, realized the other was looking, and then quickly glanced away, twin blushes on their cheeks.
It was Jungkook’s first time meeting Namjoon and Jin, so he was a little shy at first. But with Jin’s constant dad jokes and Namjoon’s philosophical musings, Jungkook quickly loosened up and relaxed.
By the end of the night, Taehyung and Jungkook were glued together, and it seemed as if the youngest had been a part of their friend group for ages.
Jimin goes to bed that night after an excited text from Taehyung saying he and Jungkook are going on a date next week, and Jimin couldn’t be happier for him.
Crawling into his bed and pulling the covers up around him, Jimin dreams of red geraniums that night.