Winter Flowers

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/23561743.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin,
Kim Namjoon | RM, Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope
Additional Tags: Florist Park Jimin (BTS), Nurse Jeon Jungkook, Strangers to Lovers,
Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Park Jimin (BTS), Fluff and Smut, literally
so much fluff I swear it's almost gross, Romance, Falling In Love,
they're just two fools falling in love and that's it, Baby's First One Shot,
is it a one shot if it's this long though, idk but it's 1/1 so clap for me
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-04-10 Words: 18,130 Chapters: 1/1

Winter Flowers
by annie_vi

Summary

“You always make the world beautiful for everyone else. So I thought maybe I could make
it beautiful for you.”

OR

Jimin is a florist who makes beautiful flowers for other people. Then he meets Jeon
Jeongguk by chance, who quickly becomes determined to make Jimin's world even more
vibrant.

Notes

BABY'S FIRST ONE SHOT! I can't believe I did it. Still a bit shocked at my own audacity,
who even am I? I wrote this in like 3 days so please be kind lol.

Approximately how many fics will be birthed courtesy of Run BTS! Episode 99? Is there a
limit? Feel free to cry about it with me on TWITTER

The title of this work is inspired by the song "Young" by Vallis Alps. It's important that
you listen to ittttt so I linked it in the fic! Along with some other songs sprinkled throughout
this little story that I listened to while writing this ;)

HAVE FUN, SEE YOU AT THE END.

See the end of the work for more notes

mood: vallis alps - "young"

To Park Jimin, all weddings followed the same pattern on the big day—big morning smiles, panic
by lunch time, tears at mid-afternoon, arguments during photos, and then chaos and flowers by
ceremony time. Someone always cried during the processional. A kid always dumped flower petals
at the altar because they had too many at the end of the aisle and didn’t know what to do with
them. Sometimes there was a dog. Those were the ceremonies that made Jimin laugh the most,
especially because he hardly ever attended them.

Jimin’s floral shop, Bloom, was a hotspot in San Diego, California for floral arrangements for
weddings and special events and public spaces, and for gardening in less common instances.
Flustered brides and panicked grooms alike flocked into Bloom and threw themselves onto the
counter in desperation, begging Jimin to save the aesthetic of their special occasion with their
outlandish flower requests. But Jimin always delivered— he regularly talked the customer into the
floral arrangements that would work, not the ones that they had found on Pinterest. Jimin would
show them beautiful species of flower that were in season at the moment, especially in the first
months of a new year when the wildflowers were in full bloom over in the Anza-Borrego Desert.
He’d run around his shop speaking passionately in colors and shapes (and sometimes in Latin) until
he had a makeshift trial bouquet to present. Then the customer would beg Jimin, stars in their eyes,
to be the florist for the wedding, would hand over the down payment, and would walk out happy.

Attending the events was a different story entirely. Customers liked to extend a hand of charity and
gush about Jimin’s work before inviting him to the entire wedding. Jimin often declined politely,
but on the rare occasion that he connected with the client, he would attend. That meant three to five
weddings per month, roughly, and it left Jimin to wonder how the hell many people in California
got married each weekend. The number of divorces was surely competitive.

But this wedding… this one was special.

Jimin didn’t really attend the ceremonies. He arranged the flowers and bouquets and ducked out so
that he could just attend the reception, the after-party. So although he wasn’t attending this
particular ceremony, per usual, the couple was very special to him.

“Yeah, beautiful. I think you can take that picture. Can’t tell who the flowers are,” Jimin said with
a grin, and Kim Taehyung, the photographer and Jimin’s best friend, took the shot. The couple in
question, one Kim Namjoon and his new husband, Kim Seokjin, had asked for Jimin’s professional
eye for their post-ceremony photos, since they wanted to include the beautiful flower arrangements
in some of the shots. Jimin had found them their photographer, after all, while also creating the
most epically wonderful mixture of flowers for the two of them. The bouquets that the female
members of their wedding party had carried were stunning. The flower arch Jimin had put together
had brought Namjoon to tears when he’d first seen it.

“Ah, I really am a flower, aren’t I?” Seokjin sighed, and Namjoon gave him a weary look, though
it was tinged with fondness. Jimin had never met such a stress-free couple in his entire life.
Namjoon, a popular university philosophy professor, had just backtracked into Jimin’s shop while
walking by one day four months ago. He’d strolled in with the intention of just bringing home his
then-fiancé (a dentist) some flowers, and he had walked out with both a handmade bouquet
courtesy of Jimin and a whole florist for their wedding—quiet and small ceremony, absolutely
massive multi-hundred-guest party. Jimin and Namjoon had hit it off immediately, mostly because
of their Korean heritage, but also because Namjoon was just… kind. He was nice, and that was
hard to find these days.

“Check it out,” Taehyung said, showing Jimin the photo on his camera first and then pushing his
black-framed glasses up into his blue hair before walking over to show the happy couple. Namjoon
gave it a nod of approval, and Seokjin commented on how handsome he looked, which earned him
a whack on the arm from his new husband.

“You sure you don’t want any of the wedding party in these?” Jimin asked, and he glanced at
Taehyung. “Are they photogenic? Any of them?”

“Seokjin-ssi’s best man is incredibly photogenic,” Taehyung said. “If I was single, I’d be all over
that.”

“Hey, remember Hoseok hyung? Waiting patiently for you at home?” Jimin teased.

“Ugh, you’re so right, what a catch. I really outdid myself. Okay, let me think,” Taehyung said,
turning back to the couple as Jimin stood back and watched. He didn’t often get invited to things
like photo sessions, but this was a special occasion. He didn’t mind being part of something that
felt special.

“He’s photogenic and probably trying to get drunk right now,” Seokjin replied with a short laugh.
“Poor kid’s finally got a night off and he’s about to take full advantage.”

“Ah, is this the nurse?” Jimin asked, and Seokjin hummed and nodded. Taehyung and Jimin both
had constantly asked for assistance from the best men. Min Yoongi, Namjoon’s best friend and
best man, was also the deejay for the reception and had been involved in the wedding process. But
neither Taehyung nor Jimin had ever learned much about or met Seokjin’s best man because the
poor guy was always on-call and seemed to live at the hospital. Taehyung had met him briefly in
the morning for photos, but that was it.

“Just the two of us,” Namjoon insisted gently. Taehyung then decided to then bring the happy
couple to the bridge by the small little lake, so he dismissed Jimin with a kiss on the cheek and sent
him off to the ballroom to have a drink. Namjoon and Seokjin thanked Jimin profusely, and then
they joined hands and followed Taehyung off towards the bridge, Jimin turning in the opposite
direction back towards the boutique hotel.

If there was one wedding-related phrase to which Jimin could relate most, it was “always a
bridesmaid, never a bride.” He was constantly immersing himself in wedding environments. On
more than one occasion (three times in his career, actually), Jimin had ruined a wedding day just
by existing—twice the bride had flirted with him and made passes at him to the groom’s dismay.
One time the groom had hit on Jimin—to his bride’s dismay. But Jimin just declared innocence
and continued to arrange his flowers while the “happy” couples duked it out over the florist. So his
life was anything but dull.

But wedding receptions were also the best place for Jimin to fine tune his game. They were the
best place for him to flirt with beautiful men and suss out which ones he could hit it off with for
the night. And a wedding with a gay couple? Jackpot. Surely Jimin would be able to meet someone
nice.
It wasn’t that he had never had a serious relationship. He wasn’t a serial one-night-stander. He’d
had boyfriends in the past. He was twenty-seven, after all, so he’d seen his fair share. Tonight
would be no different.

The reception was already in full swing with music playing and hundreds of happy guests
mingling. The wedding party was already chatting with other guests, running around and eating the
appetizers before dinner. Jimin stole a bite-sized spicy chip with minced crab dip spooned on top,
popped it into his mouth, and then grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the servers walking
around. He washed down his bite with the champagne (the whole flute in one go), and started to
slowly walk around the room, taking in the flower displays that he had set up. There was a photo
opportunity under the flower arch from the ceremony itself, the arch that had been moved to the
ballroom. Taehyung wasn’t yet present, but people were already using their phones and taking full
advantage. Jimin proudly noted that nobody was touching or pulling on the flowers. Sometimes he
had to go babysit his own creations. Sometimes kids destroyed his work. Sometimes the ring-
bearing dog did.

It was all the same from that point forward—the introduction of the wedding party (Jimin was too
busy at the bar), the happy couple walking in (he caught a glimpse), the first dance (quite funny,
seeing as neither Namjoon nor Seokjin could find a rhythm so they just swayed and joked), and the
invitation for dinner. Jimin sat down at his designated table with Taehyung beside him and scarfed
down some food, even though Taehyung was quicker.

“Ah, shit, I’m just—I’m missing all these amazing shots,” Taehyung said, shoveling food into his
mouth and then nearly throwing his fork to run over to Namjoon and Seokjin’s little table to get
some photos like a true professional. He didn’t often do weddings, but when he did, he dedicated
his entire life to them.

Jimin finished his meal and then got up to wander around quietly while the plates were cleared. Up
in the deejay booth, Min Yoongi was slipping on a headset and chatting happily with Namjoon,
probably trying to decide on the perfect song to play first to get people dancing. He had muted
orange hair and cat-like eyes and he was quite cute (hot when Jimin’s mind wandered), but he was
apparently not single, so Jimin couldn’t even make an attempt.

The party started with an absolute banger of a song that Jimin didn’t even recognized, and people
abandoned their tables and chairs to hit the dance floor by the dozens. Jimin always liked watching
the chaos, mostly because people lost all inhibition at weddings when there was music playing. On
the off-chance that he got to do weddings with Taehyung, he loved running around watching
Taehyung grab pictures, but Taehyung was currently lost in the crowds—Jimin only caught
momentary flashes of his blue hair every few seconds.

Most of the partygoers were wearing suits and formal wear, but Jimin was just wearing a new pair
of black jeans and a silver silk button-up with a paisley pattern, untucked with the sleeves rolled.
His brown hair was still styled and in tact, unlike a lot of other attendees who had had a few drinks
and had already participated in a few dances. Jimin stuck out a bit, but he figured Taehyung stuck
out worse with his blue hair. Jimin took a short break from people-watching and made a beeline for
the bar, hoping maybe for another drink. He was too damn good at holding his liquor, and he
needed far more to make it through another three or so hours—

“Oh, God! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jimin insisted like an automated voice message, because fuck if he wasn’t used
to having drinks spilled all over him at weddings by tipsy invitees. He used a pincer grasp to pull
his wet shirt away from the right side of his chest with a pained expression on his face that he
could feel, but then he turned and looked at the assailant.

“Um, let me—hold on, I’ll find some—there have to be—where are the napkins?” the guy said in
frustration as he nearly threw his entire upper body over the top of the side of the bar in search of
napkins. With a huff, he peeled his body off and turned to face Jimin, and Jimin stopped grimacing
instantly. He stopped pulling his shirt away from his skin.

“It’s fine,” he repeated with a softer tone, staring at the young man who was before him. He was
wearing a white button-up shirt with several buttons undone for party mode, a black blazer with a
boutonniere pinned that Jimin had handmade, and fitted black slacks that hugged his thighs. His
black hair was parted to the side and swooped off his forehead to frame his face. Or at least, that
was what Jimin felt—it was like looking at a portrait. He had strong cheekbones, a defined jawline,
but soft edges around his eyes, nose, and full lips, with a small mole below his bottom lip. His eyes
were the feature of his face, sparkling like a newborn galaxy despite the anxious shine in them (or
was that the alcohol?), and the way he was tugging his bottom lip between his teeth nervously as
he waited for Jimin’s reaction was endearing. It was as if he was expecting Jimin to explode, ready
to brace himself for the blow that wasn’t going to come.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking,” he said, still awkwardly clutching his nearly empty glass in
his right hand, which was slowly dripping with spilled alcohol—definitely gin. It was gin and tonic
all over Jimin, that much he could deduce. Or was it something else? Maybe vodka. Felt like gin.

“It’s fine,” Jimin repeated for the millionth time. “Don’t worry about it. Might want to ask the
bartender for a towel or something.”

“A towel,” the man emphasized like he’d just had a life-changing epiphany as he gave his glass
one shake in affirmation. “Not napkins, what was I thinking? Excuse me! Excuse—hi, do you have
a towel? I just dumped my drink all over, um…”

“Jimin,” Jimin supplied, amused when the man whipped his head to look at Jimin in curiosity.

“Yes. All over Jimin-ssi,” he said politely. The bartender handed over a towel, but it wasn’t as if it
was going to do any good. The damage was done. Still, the guy lunged and began to pat down
Jimin with the towel like he could blot away the alcohol and make Jimin a bit less sticky to the
touch. He must have sensed it was futile, though, because he let out a huff through his nose.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “Um, I’m Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk. If you need to know
who to send your dry-cleaning bill to tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, Jeongguk,” Jimin emphasized with a tiny smile, taking the towel from his large hands
and then balling it up before wiping Jeongguk’s hand clean. “Gin and tonic isn’t the worst drink
that I’ve had spilled all over me.”

“You—Wait, you’ve had—this has happened before? I’m not the first half-drunk asshole who’s
spilled a drink on you?” Jeongguk asked, raising his eyebrows and licking his lips at the same time.
He had this painful juxtaposition of sexy and cute that Jimin couldn’t seem to detach from no
matter how hard he tried. His physical appearance screamed, “I’m a god in bed,” but his demeanor
and actions screamed otherwise. Or maybe Jimin was just imagining fantastic things.

“I go to four or fives weddings a month sometimes,” Jimin replied, and Jeongguk puffed his cheeks
for a moment before raising his eyebrows again. “So I always end up being the victim somehow.”

“Wait, what? How many engaged friends do you have?” Jeongguk asked, narrow his eyes
suspiciously. He leaned one elbow on the bar at the same time as Jimin as the music began to
change on the dance floor, calling for a more exciting vibe, a bit of debauchery to surely follow at
such a large wedding celebration.

“Don’t have to have friends. I’m a florist,” Jimin answered, and Jeongguk’s eyes lit up in
understanding. “So I get invited to dozens of weddings for clients. I usually only attend a handful if
I have a good relationship with them.”

“You’re a—You did all the flowers? All these—” Jeongguk turned and waved an arm fully
extended, even though there weren’t a ton of flowers around in the reception hall. “I mean, in the
venue? You did all those pretty flowers? The—The arch and the bouquets and everything?”

“Yup. All mine,” Jimin said with a bit of pride in his voice.

“Wow. That’s—You’re talented. Hyung talked about you a lot. You’re amazing. Flowers are
hard,” Jeongguk said, and even though it sounded absurd and would have made zero sense to
anyone else, Jimin totally understood and appreciated the sentiment. “Hard to arrange. Hard to
make look—like, it’s hard to make them look pretty. You’re pretty. I mean—fuck, I meant—shit, I
meant your flowers are pretty. Oh, God,” he moaned, turning and throwing his head onto his arm
in embarrassment. Jimin stifled a laugh, suddenly feeling a bubble of confidence growing in his
chest.

This wasn’t uncommon.

Jimin attended a lot of weddings, and attending weddings only emphasized and exacerbated the
transitory feeling of acute loneliness. He had a great support system and fantastic friends, and he
didn’t often feel like he needed a man. He wanted one, of course, but a partner wasn’t going to
define him or bring him happiness—that much he knew. But being at wedding with a couple
making vows and the guests coming in pairs highlighted something deep and dark inside Jimin’s
heart—a longing. A longing to be included, to have someone care for him and love him, even just a
little.

And he knew he was good-looking. Jimin wasn’t insecure to a point where he didn’t know himself.
He knew that he could attract another man just by existing. His parents had blessed him with good
genes, and Jimin took care of himself. Hell, he’d nearly wrecked half a dozen weddings in his
florist career. So weddings were a prime spot for Jimin to find a willing and beautiful man to hit
on, chat up, flirt with endlessly, dance with, kiss, and then take back to his hotel. This wasn’t his
first rodeo.

Jeon Jeongguk, however, was instantly different, and Jimin couldn’t put his finger on why.
Jeongguk hadn’t even so much as hinted that he batted for Jimin’s team until the “pretty”
comment, but he had a charm to him that was magnetic—fumbling and a bit shy, unwittingly flirty
and sweet, and probably the god in bed that Jimin was already imagining. Surely he had two
different sides to him.

“Pretty, huh? I haven’t had enough to drink yet, but thanks,” Jimin replied with a small smile.
“You could be a part of my floral arrangements.”

“Huh?” Jeongguk lifted his head with wide eyes.

“Pretty,” Jimin repeated simply, holding his breath afterwards. Jeongguk’s eyes softened, his pink
lips twitching in a small smile, tongue darting out to wet them as he turned to the bar. Then he
swiftly turned back to Jimin.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“Gin and tonic,” Jimin said, and Jeongguk rolled his eyes dramatically as Jimin leaned both elbows
onto the bar, grinning. He ordered two drinks, and the bartender slid them over. Jimin held up his
glass. “To you, then.”

“To you and your beautiful flowers,” Jeongguk complimented back, and Jimin hated himself for
the way he blushed. He prided himself on being perceptive, though, and the way that Jeongguk
was turning his body and leaning in towards Jimin as he sipped his new drink spoke volumes.
Maybe he was tipsy, but he was certainly interested.

“You’re wearing one of them,” Jimin noted as he sipped his drink, gesturing with a pointer finger.
Jeongguk glanced down like he had forgotten his own appearance, and then he looked back up at
Jimin with a smile.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m—Yeah. I’m the best man,” Jeongguk said, straightening up with pride. “Seokjin
hyung is like my real brother.”

“So you’re the nurse.”

“Huh? I—yeah, I am, how’d you know that?” Jeongguk asked, brow furrowing in confusion that
was so endearing Jimin felt he was going to combust.

“Seokjin-ssi talked about you a lot. Said you could never make it to any wedding-related events
because you were always at the hospital. That you work like your heart bleeds for it. He had a lot
of analogies for you and we never even met you.”

“Ah. Yeah, wow. I—I’m there a lot,” Jeongguk said sheepishly, eyes still wide. “I work twelve-
hour shifts three days a week, but I—like, I volunteer myself for an extra day or two most weeks.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Nah, it’s not bad. I have a lot of really cool patients. It’s weird to have a night off, though. I have
second shift tomorrow, so I don’t have to be in until five o’clock.”

“And work until when? Five in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk said, and then he put the drink to his lips and tossed a good third of it back in
one go. “So I’ll just need a really good hangover cure. Um, why—why’d you become a florist?”

“My mother had gardens when I was growing up,” Jimin said, providing the elevator speech that
he usually did when people asked why he had chosen such an unlikely career. “When my father left
us, she kind of threw herself into gardening and flowers. She started making flower arrangements. I
started helping her, and I discovered how much I loved it. So I started my own business. Moved to
America when she passed away, took the business here.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jeongguk said immediately, and Jimin shook his head with a small smile.

“Not a sob story. She was terminally ill. We both knew it was coming. I made all the flowers for
her hospital room to brighten it up,” Jimin replied. “It was beautiful. She was happy when she
passed away. So I’m good. But since you asked, that’s why I’m a florist.”

“That’s actually a nice story,” Jeongguk said with a matching small smile. “Um, sometimes when
my patients are feeling sad, I bring them flowers. But I get them from the grocery store.”

“Boo-o-o-o,” Jimin replied with a thumbs down, and Jeongguk burst out laughing, nearly falling
sideways. Jimin reached out an arm to catch him, but Jeongguk caught himself instead, and Jimin
realized that he was smiling like a fool watching this man. He then realized that Jeongguk’s glass
was empty, and Jimin glanced down. His was empty, too.

“Do you want another drink?” Jeongguk asked, moving in closer to Jimin to ask the question. He
was that kind of flirt, and Jimin was catching on fast. All it was going to take was to fluster Jeon
Jeongguk a little to spark his confidence. That was the way for Jimin to get what he wanted.
Because at an alarming speed, he realized that he wanted Jeongguk. He wasn’t quite sure how, but
he wanted something more. He wanted to dance, to touch, to be close. Jeongguk had an
unexplainable and alluring charm to him that made Jimin dare to be a little bit reckless. That
feeling alone was like a high, and Jimin wanted to chase it. So he decided to push gently in hopes
that Jeongguk would follow his direction.

“I’ll take a shot if you’ll take one with me,” Jimin said to him, leaning against the bar until his leg
was nearly between both of Jeongguk’s. Jeongguk’s eyes widened a little, and Jimin saw his hand
move like he wanted to instinctively reach out to hold Jimin, but he hesitated. “Go ahead,” Jimin
added in a whisper, and then he flicked his eyes over towards the bartender. As he did, he felt
Jeongguk’s hand gently come to rest on his hip, fingertips curling a bit, and the adrenaline rush
happened. The high consumed him immediately. The bartender came over, and Jimin ordered two
shots with just a few words.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t really—I didn’t know if you were—um,” Jeongguk tried to say, but Jimin turned
back and put them nearly nose-to-nose, and Jeongguk’s words failed him. Breathily, he added,
“Oh. I was right.”

“Right about what? My preference for men?” Jimin joked, handing over a shot glass. Jeongguk
accepted it with flushed cheeks, but then he shook his head.

“No. That you’re pretty,” he mumbled, ears turning red as he took the shot glass from Jimin. “What
do we drink to this time?”

“To having a night off,” Jimin decided, leaning into Jeongguk’s hand on his waist. They tapped
the shot glasses together, and then they both tossed back the contents.

“Come dance with me,” Jeongguk blurted out almost immediately, and Jimin slipped one arm
around Jeongguk’s neck with a grin.

“I don’t dance much at weddings,” Jimin replied back, looking for Jeongguk’s reaction. He was
being truthful—he rarely ever participated in the dancing at receptions unless he was with
Taehyung. He opted for a more professional route. But it was Jeongguk who was asking.
Jeongguk, with sparklers for eyes and cheeks tinged with pink from both excitement and the
alcohol, the eagerness of an overworked but momentarily free twenty-something-year-old bursting
from his mouth. Jeongguk, who Jimin knew next to nothing about but was a willing student.

“Who doesn’t like dancing at a wedding?” Jeongguk set his shot glass down with gusto, and then
he tightened his grasp on Jimin’s one hip and took the shot glass out of Jimin’s hand. He set it
down, too, and then he took Jimin’s now-free hand in his, creating a makeshift dancing position.
“Dancing at weddings is not just fun. It’s necessary.”

“Alcohol makes you brave, Nurse Jeongguk,” Jimin said in a singsong tone, and Jeongguk visibly
blushed but refused to release Jimin from his grasp. Instead, he swallowed hard and adjusted his
hold on Jimin’s hand.
mood: the lumineers - "flowers in your hair"

“Come dance with me,” he insisted. “Just one dance. One good ‘YMCA’ or something.”

“If I’m going to dance, it definitely won’t be to that,” Jimin said, rocking his head back and forth a
few times as the alcohol started to kick in. Now he was feeling warm and happy and he could see
the tipsy glimmer in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Find me a better song—”

The music changed right on cue to a popular song that had the entire ballroom up in cheers, and
Jimin swallowed his own words as Jeongguk tugged on his hand.

“Dance with me,” he said breathlessly. “It’s my night off. Come dance with me, Jimin-ssi.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Jimin agreed, so he let Jeongguk tug him like a child through the mess of
pushed-out chairs and straight to the wooden ballroom floor, which was packed with partygoers
already. Jeongguk lifted his arm and twirled Jimin under it, and then he pressed Jimin’s back to his
front.

“Pretty boy makes pretty things,” Jeongguk whispered in his ear as they swayed back and forth to
the music, surrounded by laughter and sing-alongs and chatter. A shiver flitted down Jimin’s spine.
“Sorry for spilling my drink on you, but I like this.”

“My shirt’s almost dry,” Jimin said with a smile, his eyes falling closed for just a brief moment as
he enjoyed the sensation of Jeongguk pressed fully to him so suddenly and so wonderfully, the way
his large hands and strong arms engulfed Jimin with liquid confidence. Jimin rarely enjoyed the
frivolities of wedding receptions, but this was cathartic.

“Ah, God, so embarrassing,” Jeongguk said when the next song began, and he turned Jimin and
wrapped an arm around his waist, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of Jimin’s hand in
an unexpected intimate gesture. “My hyungs are staring at me.”

“Why, because you’re misbehaving?” Jimin asked, gripping the front shoulders of Jeongguk’s
blazer, bottom lip between his teeth in a small grin.

“Because they’re always trying to set me up,” Jeongguk half-moaned, dropping his head towards
Jimin’s shoulder momentarily before lifting it back up.

“They wouldn’t happen to be the happily married new couple, would they?”

“They would,” Jeongguk said, still swaying Jimin to the beat. “And they’re relentless.”

“You know what’s nice about that, though, Jeongguk?”

“What?”

Jimin wrapped his arms fully around Jeongguk’s neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I like
you a lot.” Then he turned and brushed his lips against the shell of Jeongguk’s ear before slowly
pulling away, lips ghosting along the skin of his jaw. Jeongguk froze momentarily under Jimin’s
touch, eyes closed.

“…I like you, too,” he whispered. “Or maybe—maybe I’m just drunk.”

“Do you like me anyways?”

“If I liked you without the alcohol, I wouldn’t be brave enough to do any of this,” Jeongguk said,
and then the song changed to something slower, something that made nearly everyone in the
vicinity say “Aw!” collectively. Jimin inwardly flinched, feeling like the mood was about to be
shattered by the change in tune. But Jeongguk, in all his tipsy charm, just moved away, both his
hands in Jimin’s, and then pulled Jimin back in, one hand on his waist as he took Jimin’s other
hand.

“That was very smooth,” Jimin complimented with a grin.

“I promise I’m not this good when I’m sober,” Jeongguk swore, the pink flush still tinging his
cheeks and making him look so gorgeous that Jimin had to blink several times to make sure he was
real. “I have a very good bedside manner but I’m awful with—with this kind of thing.”

“With what, flirting? Courting a man?” Jimin said with a grin.

“Which you seem to be good at,” Jeongguk noted as they swayed slowly to the music as if in their
own little bubble.

“I don’t usually flirt with men who spill their drinks on me,” Jimin said, fingers of his right hand
playing with the hair at the base of Jeongguk’s neck, since he’d left his arm around Jeongguk’s
shoulder. “But you seem to be a special case.”

“I-I like being a special case,” Jeongguk said when Jimin lifted his hand and ran his fingers
through the side of Jeongguk’s hair carefully, testing the waters. Jeongguk almost fell inward,
nearly stumbled at the touch.

“Guess there won’t be any ‘YMCA,’” Jimin noted.

“We don’t need the song to do it,” Jeongguk pointed out with a mischievous grin that made Jimin
giggle, the alcohol still coursing through his system. Fuck, this was man was beautiful. Then he
blurted out, “I wanna know how you arrange your flowers.”

“Meaning what?” Jimin asked with a smile, seeing the way Jeongguk had clamped his mouth shut.
Jeongguk gave him a slightly pained look, but then he spoke up.

“Do you arrange your flowers by color or by type?” he asked, blinking almost owlishly at Jimin as
he attempted to concentrate with all his might.

“I arrange them by season in which they bloom and based on the personality of my customer,”
Jimin replied. “Where in the hospital do you work?”

“One in the area,” Jeongguk replied vaguely. “I work with the kids.”

“Anything else you’d like to say to make yourself more attractive?” Jimin asked.

“N-No,” Jeongguk said, still swaying back and forth almost robotically. Jimin had nearly forgotten
that they were on a dance floor in the middle of a wedding reception for which Jimin was being
paid. This was the moment. There was always a moment in the flirting game, in the back-and-forth,
when Jimin had to decide whether or not to make a move if the other man hadn’t already.
Jeongguk had his liquid courage, but he was wide-eyed and painfully beautiful and not likely to
make the first move. So Jimin had to decide whether or not to do it.

As if it was a difficult decision.

“Take me back to your room,” Jimin requested boldly.

“Wh-What?” Jeongguk stammered, but then he cleared his throat and drew Jimin closer to him
until their chests were touching. “You—You want me to… yeah? You sure?”

“I felt like that’s where this was going. If I’m wrong, I’ll just go hide in my flowers,” Jimin said
decisively. Jeongguk stifled a laugh, and then he leaned in and brushed his nose against Jimin’s.

“I’ll take you up to my room.”

Jeongguk fumbled for Jimin’s hand and grasped it tightly, but then he hesitated to leave the dance
floor, looking around wildly. Jimin, a bit dizzy in the head now, leaned his forehead on Jeongguk’s
shoulder and pointed quietly with a single finger in the direction of Seokjin and Namjoon, who
were dancing but very clearly keeping a weathered eye on the best man. He kept his head down
while Jeongguk beckoned to his friends wordlessly, and then he tugged on Jimin’s hand.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he said with a grin, and Jimin giggled and stumbled after him. He hadn’t
even bothered to book a hotel room for himself based on the brash hope that someone, anyone,
would take him in for the night. Usually it was Taehyung. But Jeon Jeongguk wasn’t just anyone.

“What floor are you on?” Jimin asked as they stumbled into the elevator, Jeongguk clinging to him
tightly.

“Um—I’m on—fuck, I forget, oh God,” he said as he stared at the buttons in a panic. Then he
grabbed Jimin and spun them until his front was pressed to Jimin’s back, and he could manipulate
Jimin’s arms. He lifted Jimin’s right hand, and Jimin made a pointer finger. “Pick a floor.”

“No, I can’t just pick a floor,” Jimin said with a laugh, left hand gripping Jeongguk’s left arm
around his waist. “Which floor, Jeongguk? The—okay, the doors are closed, now we’re trapped in
the elevator, come on, think of your floor!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, fuck, I can’t remember, sober me would remember,” Jeongguk
whined, and Jimin giggled.

"Your room key would be a good start.”

“My room key—” Jeongguk fumbled in his pocket for his wallet, and then he emerged with his
room key. “Ah!” Then he guided Jimin’s pointer finger to the number 4. The elevator began to rise,
and Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat. He hadn’t even told Taehyung where he was going. He
didn’t regret it yet. He didn’t think he would.

Jeongguk opened the door of his hotel room, and the two of them tripped inside. Jeongguk
managed to flick on only one light before Jimin had him up against the closed door.

“Got any champagne?” he whispered.

“Of course I do,” Jeongguk said with a grin. “Want some?”

“Want you to kiss me first,” Jimin said, lifting his chin a little. “Maybe undress me. And then we
can have champagne.”

“You know, hyung told me that the florist he found was cute,” Jeongguk said, still caged in against
the door as he licked his lips. When he slipped his hands right underneath Jimin’s shirt and pressed
his palms to the skin, Jimin inhaled in a little gasp, leaning into the touch. “He kept saying it to me
on the phone. ‘Jeonggukie, the florist is really hot. You should meet him. He makes the most
beautiful flower arrangements, I think you’d like him.’”
“You saying this is fate?” Jimin whispered.

“I’m saying he was right,” Jeongguk replied, and then he licked his lips again and leaned in. He
hesitated out of nervousness, so Jimin closed the gap and pressed his lips to Jeongguk’s. The
problem was that Jeongguk tried for a kiss at the same time, so it was all teeth and clashing and
fumbling. It should have been awkward, but the two of them just laughed, clinging onto each other.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Try again,” Jimin whispered, his heart racing. Jeongguk nodded quietly, and
then he slowly leaned in and connected their lips again. This time, the kiss was gentle sweet and
enough to make Jimin melt. Jeongguk’s lips were soft and he was so careful, exploring Jimin’s lips
and mouth like he needed to taste every little bit. He still tasted like a mixture of Chapstick and the
gin and tonic he’d drank, but he smelled faintly like lavender, and Jimin was drowning. He closed
his eyes and deepened the kiss, envisioning fields of lavender surrounding them even if just for a
moment. His mind was always consumed with flowers, but this time, it was flowers and Jeongguk.

“Does the alcohol make you kiss well, too?” Jimin breathed against Jeongguk’s lips between
kisses, and Jeongguk let out a small laugh.

“Maybe it does. Don’t think we’ll find out if I suck at kissing tonight, though,” he replied. “Do I
undress you now?”

“Please.”

The kissing resumed, and Jimin peeled Jeongguk off the front door and spun the two of them in the
midst of all their kissing. Jeongguk reached up and started making his attempts to unbutton Jimin’s
shirt, but the two of them were too inebriated to make any sense of it all.

“I just—why isn’t it—why isn’t it coming off?” Jeongguk complained, gently pressing Jimin up
against the door of the bathroom as Jimin giggled, tugging unnecessarily at Jeongguk’s shirt.
Jeongguk’s fingers fumbled, and then he let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his forehead against
Jimin’s. “Your shirt.”

“What about my shirt?”

“It won’t come off.”

“Seems like your problem, not mine,” Jimin teased, this time slipping his own hands underneath
Jeongguk’s untucked shirt to touch warm skin. Jeongguk whimpered and moved closer, pressing
his body to Jimin’s as Jimin sucked in a breath, fingers rippling along the muscles of Jeongguk’s
chest and abdomen until his palms were pressed fully into the curve of Jeongguk’s hips. “Don’t be
shy about it.”

That was the only trigger Jeongguk needed. He yanked, and the buttons popped open, the shirt
ripping a little as it slipped down Jimin’s shoulders, and Jimin gasped in disbelief and laughed at
nearly the same time.

“That was expensive, you jerk.”

“I’ll buy you another,” Jeongguk said with a proud grin, pushing the shirt fully off Jimin’s
shoulders until it fell to the floor. Then there was a sudden frenzy, and in between all the frantic
kissing and stumbling, clothes became strewn all across the hotel room floor. The more Jimin took
off, the more he wanted to whine at the sight of Jeongguk without the layers of clothing. He was
broad in the shoulders with a small waist and muscle defining his body from head to toe. The way
he was running his hands up and down Jimin’s nearly naked body was intoxicating, like he had
never touched someone so beautiful before. And it wasn’t even that Jimin thought he himself was
that beautiful—it was Jeongguk’s touch that made him feel that way.

“Wait,” Jimin said when he spotted the mini fridge. He stepped over his own pants and crouched
down, clenching his jaw at how hard he already was, and then he yanked it open and found the
champagne Jeongguk had mentioned. It took him all of ten seconds to pop the cork, and then he
pressed the bottle to his lips and took a few decent swigs. Jeongguk sat down on the edge of the
bed in just his black briefs, ears a bit red, eying Jimin in mild shock. So Jimin added to the shock
factor and climbed onto the bed right onto Jeongguk’s lap, taking a seat with his knees on the bed.

“Want some?” he offered, and Jeongguk reached up a hand and grabbed the bottle. He tilted his
head back and chugged some of it down, and then he passed it back to Jimin. Jimin clutched the
bottle in one hand, grabbing Jeongguk by the hair with the other hand, and kissed him firmly.
Jeongguk let out a small moan in the back of his throat, hands gripping Jimin’s waist to pull Jimin
further into his lap.

“Gonna let you have me however you want me,” Jimin breathed before another searing kiss.
Jeongguk boldly reached a hand between the two of them and pressed his palm to Jimin’s half-hard
cock, and Jimin gasped into Jeongguk’s mouth, rocking his hips forward into the touch. “K-Keep
going.”

Jeongguk continued to palm Jimin through his underwear to coax him to full hardness, pressing hot
kisses to Jimin’s collarbone and neck and chest as Jimin’s eyes fell closed again. Being drunk and
aroused at the same time under the ministrations of a beautiful man was something of a dream to
him.

“You kind of smell like flowers,” Jeongguk whispered, his lips on Jimin’s skin everywhere,
lighting metaphorical trails of fire along his veins that spread through his whole body. “Earthy.
Sweet. I can’t believe you’re—that you’re gonna let me just…”

“Let you fuck me? I thought you’d never ask,” Jimin breathed, and he heard Jeongguk stifle a
laugh as he grabbed the champagne. He took one final swig, and then he set it down onto the floor.
He then fell backwards onto the bed, bringing Jimin with him, rolling the two of them and scooting
up towards the pillows. The kissing was a cross between hot as hell and desperate, Jimin lifting his
hips to ask for some kind of friction, Jeongguk responding eagerly by grinding down on him. They
kissed until Jimin was sure his lips were swollen, and then Jeongguk finally rolled off the bed and
towards his suitcase. He fumbled around a little, and then he emerged with a small bottle of lube
and a condom. Jimin didn’t ask questions. He liked a man who came prepared.

“So pretty,” Jeongguk whispered with a little giggle, and then he kissed Jimin’s lips before kissing
down the middle of his chest, fingers gripping the waist of his briefs. Jimin nodded, so Jeongguk
pulled them down and off, tossing them to the side.

“Your turn,” Jimin insisted.

“Nah,” Jeongguk said with a grin, so Jimin rocketed upright and grabbed Jeongguk around the
waist, the two of them laughing and wrestling until Jeongguk finally let Jimin strip him of his final
piece of clothing.

“Ah, fuck,” Jimin sighed, fall back onto the pillows. “Fuck, you really are that beautiful. God, look
at you.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whined, and Jimin raised his eyebrows as Jeongguk straddled him.
“Never said you could call me that,” he teased.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk responded cheekily, and Jimin narrowed his eyes. Jeongguk burst out laughing,
and then he grabbed for the lube. “Do I get to kiss you while I do this? Or did you wanna flip
over?”

“You tell me, nurse,” Jimin said while blinking innocently, and Jeongguk nearly dropped the lube.

“Don’t,” he said firmly with a pointer finger raised, and Jimin giggled, because he’d found a
weakness, even in their drunken state. “Don’t, or I’m gonna go get all the flowers you made and
bring them up to this room.”

“Hope you’re not allergic, but goddamn, fucking me on a whole literal bed of flowers? Total kink,”
Jimin agreed, watching Jeongguk uncap the lube and drizzle some onto his fingers. He rubbed his
fingers together, and then he situated himself between Jimin’s legs. Jimin wanted to hate how
quickly he spread his legs to accommodate Jeongguk, but he was too horny to care. He lifted his
hips a little, and Jeongguk leaned in for another kiss, one finger teasing Jimin’s rim.

“…Fuck, thank you so much for spilling your drink on me,” Jimin gasped by the time Jeongguk
was two fingers deep and trying to add a third. “Oh, God, thank fuck you spilled it. Thank you,
thank you, thank you.”

“Careful, I might have a praise kink,” Jeongguk teased with sparkling eyes as he slipped in a third
finger, and Jimin’s body jolted in reaction, a small moan escaping past his lips. Jeongguk didn’t
quite know what to do with his free hand or the rest of his body—he kept changing his mind. But
he knew what to do with his fingers inside Jimin, and that was all that mattered.

“Okay, okay. Fuck me, c’mere. I’m ready,” Jimin insisted. Jeongguk reached for the condom,
dropped it twice before he finally ripped it open, and bit his tongue in concentration as he rolled it
onto his hard length. He used the excess lube to slick himself up, whimpering a bit, and then he sat
back on his heels.

“Want you kind of like this,” he decided.

“So take me,” Jimin insisted, the spark in the pit of his stomach ready to roar into a drunken fire.
Jeongguk manhandled him effortlessly, dragging Jimin by the hips towards him as Jimin opened
his legs further and lifted his hips just a little. Jeongguk guided his cock to Jimin’s entrance, and
then he slowly pressed in. Jimin sucked in a breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head as
Jeongguk thrusted shallowly a few times before pushing in further, falling forward with his palms
pressed to the mattress near Jimin’s head.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he gasped, and Jimin chuckled, head spinning.

“You’re welcome.”

It took a minute or so for Jeongguk to fully bottom out, and another minute for the two of them to
adjust to each other. But then Jeongguk sat back on his heels again and lifted Jimin’s hips, pulling
Jimin closer and further onto his cock as Jimin let out a moan.

“Fuck, feels so good,” he breathed, savoring how deep Jeongguk was inside him. “Oh my God.
C’mon, Jeongguk. C’mon, just—oh-h-h-h.”

Jeongguk gripped Jimin’s elevated hips and started to fuck into him at a steady, rhythmic, rather
unrelenting pace, and Jimin threw his arms out, gripping the bedsheets desperately, his limbs
nearly out of control every time Jeongguk thrusted in with such power. His cock was big enough
for Jimin to feel a little bit of pain mixed in with all the pleasure, and it was so overwhelming and
so welcomed that Jimin couldn’t find any words in his vocabulary to describe it. Maybe it was the
alcohol, but they were only a few minutes into having sex and Jimin was certain he’d never been
fucked so well.

“K-Keep going, keep going, keep going,” he chanted. “Oh-h-h-h, fuck, oh God, J-Jeongguk… oh,
God, f-feels—fuck, right there, right there.”

“So you’re a talker,” Jeongguk noted with a breathy laugh, sounding amused. “Fuck, like you
didn’t turn me on enough already.”

“Fucking me so well,” Jimin moaned, and then he gasped, one hand flying up to grab his cock, the
tip sticky with pre-cum that was already streaked across his abdomen as well. He began to slowly
stroke himself in rhythm with Jeongguk’s thrusts, savoring the way Jeongguk was watching him
with sharp eyes, savoring the way Jeongguk’s hands kept running up and down his sweaty skin to
feel as much as possible, savoring the way Jeongguk would pause just to lift one of Jimin’s legs
and kiss whatever skin he could find.

“I-I’m not gonna last,” Jeongguk gasped, finally pausing and taking a few deep breaths. Jimin
slowed his strokes, still staring up at Jeongguk, and then he reached up his clean hand and ran it
down Jeongguk’s torso from his collarbones to his hips. Jeongguk shuddered, leaning in to the
touch, still thrusting shallowly. “Y-You wanna cum first? Or with me?”

“With you,” Jimin whispered. Jeongguk nodded frantically, some of his hair sticking to his
forehead, his muscles rippling when he adjusted his position. Then he grabbed both of Jimin’s legs
by the thighs, pushing Jimin’s knees towards his chest for a new angle. He eyed Jimin for
permission, and Jimin nodded.

“Touch yourself,” Jeongguk insisted. “T-Touch yourself until you’re close.”

Jimin followed instructions, head thrown back in pleasure as Jeongguk fucked him steadily,
gripping his own cock and jerking himself off to Jeongguk’s rhythm. Jeongguk had good stamina,
it seemed, because he had Jimin’s body nearly lifting off the bed with every thrust, had the entire
bed shaking, had the sheets in a mess. Jimin felt so wildly out of control and hot all over, so
aroused that he could barely contain the moans and noises escaping his mouth. He wasn’t filtering
a damn thing, was just letting Jeongguk hear and have all of it.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty,” Jeongguk said almost right on cue, and Jimin whimpered, reaching
down past his own bent knees to touch Jeongguk’s thighs. He gripped tightly, fingernails digging
in, and Jeongguk gritted his teeth and fucked into Jimin harder, panting. “Oh, God, I’m—I’m
gonna—I’m so close, I’m close, Jimin-ah, I-I’m gonna—”

“Oh my God,” Jimin moaned at the sound of his name from Jeongguk’s lips, hand flying back up
to his own cock. “Close, close. Oh, oh, I’m—right there, I’m—Jeongguk,” he managed to gasp out,
and then his entire body tensed as his head fell back, and he let go of his cock as he came all over
his abdomen, body buzzing, eyes closed in unadulterated pleasure. Jeongguk let out a few
breathless curse words, his rhythm faltering as he came nearly the same time, sweaty hands
slipping down Jimin’s thighs.

“Fuck,” Jimin gasped out when Jeongguk collapsed forward onto him. He kept his eyes closed as
he panted, catching his breath, and then he felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile.
Jeongguk started pressing gentle kisses to his sweaty skin, still lazily rocking into him every few
seconds, sending shivers down Jimin’s spine. They stayed like that for a solid five minutes—
Jeongguk still inside Jimin with a few shallow, sleepy thrusts, Jimin’s entire skin littered with
kisses as Jeongguk covered his ground.

“…That was so fucking worth it,” Jimin whispered, and he felt Jeongguk chuckle against his skin.
“You better get up here and kiss me.”

“Okay.” Jeongguk lifted his head and pressed his lips to Jimin’s, the two of them exchanging lazy,
slow kisses with a lot of tongue and a few quiet moans, Jeongguk’s hands making a mess of
Jimin’s already tousled hair, the room silent save for the sound of the sheets rustling and the quiet
kisses.

“So the best man got laid, but not by the maid of honor,” Jimin whispered, and Jeongguk stifled a
laugh, finally pulling out of Jimin and peeling the condom off. He tied it up and tossed it, grabbing
a washcloth from the bathroom at the same time. He offered it up to Jimin, and the two of them
quietly cleaned up, still giggling softly every now and again because they were still tipsy.

“You gonna stay and cuddle me?” Jeongguk asked, kneeling on the bed with his hands on his
knees, his black briefs back on, eyes a bit glassy.

Oh, fuck. He’s so cute.

Jimin pulled on his own briefs and then climbed back onto the bed, and he threw off the top
blanket from the hotel room bed. Then he burrowed under the covers with Jeongguk, falling
naturally into his arms, head resting on his strong chest.

“What flower are you?” Jeongguk asked, immediately tracing his fingertips up and down Jimin’s
back. “What—like… my birth flower. Um, it’s a tiger flower.”

“Pretty,” Jimin whispered. “Mine’s spirea. It’s used in weddings a lot.”

“Touché.” Jeongguk shifted a little, and then he wrapped both arms around Jimin. “I’m sleepy.”

“We can sleep,” Jimin whispered.

“Mm.” Jeongguk nuzzled into Jimin’s hair. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Thanks for spilling your drink on me.”

“Anytime.”

Jimin couldn’t remember falling asleep. The next thing he remembered was waking up to
Jeongguk knocked out cold, so he slipped off the bed, checked the time (almost eight o’clock), and
then quietly dressed, having to button his shirt in an awkward fashion since it was ripped. Then he
scribbled a note on the hotel notepad of the best place close by to order Korean hangover food, left
his phone number for Jeongguk to use at his discretion, and slipped out of the hotel room.

***

The shop had been busy almost all day. Jimin’s salad and smoothie at lunch felt like an eternity
ago by the time six o’clock came and he was ready to close up. He’d made a good profit for the
day, but he was exhausted.

Jimin quietly balanced out the cash register, since he worked alone, and then made sure to
complete his nightly finance report. He checked his e-mails to make sure he wasn’t getting any
new shipments in tomorrow morning (not until Monday), and then he slipped to the back. He was
going to close up and finish tying all the ribbons around the long-stemmed roses he was delivering
tomorrow, something to do before he went home.

It had been two weeks since Namjoon and Seokjin’s wedding, and the happy couple had returned
from their honeymoon in Italy with a little snow globe for Jimin as a token of their thanks. Jimin
had it sitting on his counter, and he’d given it a good shake every day for two weeks.

It wasn’t a magic 8 ball, though, and no matter how many times Jimin shook the snow globe, his
phone didn’t ring. Jeongguk had his phone number. Jimin had made it pretty obvious, leaving the
notepad right by Jeongguk’s phone before he had slipped out. And he was too prideful to ask
Seokjin about it, so he’d spent two weeks wondering if he’d done something wrong.

Jimin gathered the rolls of white ribbon and set them on the work table, and then he heard the front
door of the shop open courtesy of the wind chimes he had installed to alert him. Shit, he had
forgotten to flip the sign to indicate that Bloom was closed. Sighing, Jimin set down his ribbons
and made his way back to the front.

“Hi, I’m sorry, I just closed up for the night! You can come back… tomorrow.”

Jimin trailed off and only whispered the last word when he saw who was standing at the door. The
wind chime overhead tinkled again as the door fully closed, and Jeongguk inched his way in,
holding something behind his back. He looked completely different than the night of the wedding.
He was wearing black cargo pants and a black long-sleeved loose t-shirt with a black cap, his black
hair peeking out the edges. He had a few more small hoop piercings in his ears than he had two
weeks ago, and he was wearing black boots. He also had a black backpack on both shoulders.

“Um, do you—do you want me to flip the sign? I—I’m sorry, I can go,” Jeongguk offered, but
Jimin hastily stepped forward.

“No, no, no. It’s fine, you—yeah, flip the sign, but stay,” he said, his ears burning. Shit, he was too
eager. Jeongguk seemed happy by the response. He turned to flip the sign over, and Jimin saw that
he had a black shopping bag in one hand. He turned back to Jimin, and then he stood rooted to the
spot.

“…Hi,” he said simply, sounding nervous. “Um… I went to that place you told me about to eat. To
cure my hangover. It was really delicious. Got me through my night shift.”

“That’s good,” Jimin said softly.

“And, um… I tried to text you every single day. But I chickened out. Every single day,” Jeongguk
said with a small sigh, and Jimin’s shoulders relaxed, heartbeat quickening. He wasn’t all dolled up
like at the wedding, but seeing Jeongguk like this was doing things to Jimin. If this was his “natural
form,” then Jimin wanted to be signed up immediately.

“It’s okay. I—I didn’t expect you to text me or anything,” Jimin lied, fiddling with his fingers in
front of him. Then he gestured. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh.” Jeongguk held it up. “It’s just—well, I ripped your shirt,” he said, ears turning red as he took
a few steps forward. “So I got you a new one.”

“Jeongguk, you didn’t have to get me a new one,” Jimin said with a weak laugh, accepting the bag
nonetheless. “That’s—yeah. Wow. Thank you. You really didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t mean to rip it,” Jeongguk said sheepishly. “Sorry. I don’t really know my own strength
sometimes.”

“It’s okay. Did, um… did you just come here to give me a shirt?” Jimin asked hopefully as
Jeongguk began to slowly turn in a circle, gazing around the shop with stars in his eyes, mouth
slightly open. “…Jeongguk?”

“Huh? Sorry, I—It’s all so beautiful. All your flowers. These arrangements, they’re—did you make
all of these?” Jeongguk asked.

“Yeah, of course I did. Oh, that’s the wall with the fake flowers,” Jimin said with a small chuckle.
“In case someone doesn’t want the real thing.”

“Allergies?”

“Could be,” Jimin said as Jeongguk continued to marvel. Then he cleared his throat and turned
back to Jimin.

“Sorry. Um, no. I—I just got off work,” Jeongguk explained. “And Seokjin hyung kept telling me
to stop by your shop to talk to you, but I kept getting nervous and driving past here after work. But
I had your shirt, so that gave me an excuse to be here.”

“Nervous? Over me?” Jimin grinned and rested his elbows on the countertop, setting his chin in his
hands for a moment as Jeongguk flashed him a smile.

“Yeah. Sorry. I—I’m sober now, and you’re still cute,” he said, grinning. “Pretty like your
flowers.”

“You’re making me blush,” Jimin said honestly, covering his face with his hands for a moment
before straightening up to see the proud look on Jeongguk’s face. “How was work? What do you
do, exactly? You can sit, by the way.”

“Oh—thanks.” Jeongguk shrugged out of his backpack and sat on the wooden stool adjacent to
Jimin’s counter, and Jimin sat on his own stool. “Um, I’m in pediatric oncology. So I work with
kids who have cancer.”

“Oh,” Jimin breathed. “That’s… wow. That’s amazing. But probably also exhausting.”

“It can be,” Jeongguk agreed, looking relieved that someone was validating the dark circles under
his eyes. “But the kids are the greatest. They make it all worth it. They’re really cute. I take care of
them, but I also get to play games with them and stuff. So it’s fun.”

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” Jimin complimented, and Jeongguk let out a breathy
laugh, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you let drunk me go back to your hotel room when all I do
is make flowers.”

“That’s not all you do,” Jeongguk insisted. “You make really beautiful things for people who
might need it, you know? I don’t know. I love the idea of giving people flowers to brighten their
day. Or their room. Whatever works.”

“You said you put flowers in your patients’ rooms. Your patients are kids,” Jimin recalled, his
heartstrings tugging. Jeongguk just beamed.

“Yeah, and they love it. I buy these flowers for one of my girls, and we always play the same
game,” he explained with earnest. “You know, the whole ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ thing,
except usually with which socks she should wear. Or what color scarf we should put on her head.
She thinks it’s funny.”

“Bet you have all kinds of cool stories,” Jimin said, trying to hold in the awe he was feeling.

“I have a few bangers,” Jeongguk said, and Jimin stifled a laugh.

“Jeongguk, I’m—I have to get an order ready for delivery for tomorrow,” Jimin said reluctantly,
voice a bit pained. Jeongguk blinked a few times, and then he cocked his head to the side.

“Can I help you at all?”

“It’s just tying ribbons. But it’s kind of in a specific way.”

“Teach me.” Jeongguk stood up. “Teach me so I can stay here with you. Shit, sorry, that—sorry,
um…”

“Come to the back, then. I’ll teach you,” Jimin replied, feeling warmth spread from his heart
straight down to his fingertips. What was it about Jeongguk that had him so immediately
enraptured? He was mesmerizing, magnetic just by existing. Jimin watched as Jeongguk slowly
passed by the natural herbs and plants Jimin had on display, and he paused to lean in and take a
sniff of the sage and basil, eyes closed, fingertips grazing the leaves.

Pretty.

mood: david gray - "this year's love"

“What’s the delivery for?” Jeongguk wondered as he followed Jimin to the back, setting his
backpack down again and approaching the worktable.

“A nursing home,” Jimin said with a small smile. “There’s a couple there together celebrating their
seventieth wedding anniversary, and the staff wanted some long-stemmed roses for each person to
have.”

“Seventieth? Damn. That’s something to aspire to,” Jeongguk said as Jimin grabbed the white
ribbon. He pushed a roll towards Jeongguk, and then he grabbed some scissors. He started to
explain methodically how long the ribbon should be cut, how to cut it on an angle to match at the
ends, how to tie the bow so that it didn’t twist in an unsightly way, how to be as delicate as
possible as to not damage the roses.

“…Yeah, that’s perfect,” Jimin commended when Jeongguk finished his first one and silently held
it up for approval. “That’s exactly it. Thank you.”

Jeongguk gave him a close-lipped, dimpled smile tinged with pride, and then the two of them stood
side by side and worked quietly. Jimin thought that maybe he would have to fill the silence with
small talk, but there was something oddly comforting about just the two of them, near strangers,
working together without a word, tying ribbons on roses underneath the hum of the dull fluorescent
lighting. Jimin had one hundred roses to get through, but with Jeongguk’s help, time flew.

“Is this one okay?”

“Hmm?” Jimin turned his body more towards Jeongguk to look. “Yeah, that’s…”

He trailed off the moment Jeongguk tilted his head and gave him a soft kiss, a cautious and careful
kiss that made Jimin weak in the knees. It was so unexpected but so welcomed, and Jimin was
surprised at how much he wanted another.

“…I'm sorry. I—I just wanted to know,” Jeongguk said softly.

“Know what?” Jimin whispered.

“If I suck at kissing when I'm sober.”

Jimin giggled, and then he set down the rose he was working on. Jeongguk glanced down at his
rose, and then he wordlessly offered it to Jimin. Jimin’s heart cartwheeled as he accepted the rose,
and then he reached up and removed Jeongguk’s cap, running his fingers through his mess of black
hair afterwards.

“Let’s find out,” he said, pulse racing. Jeongguk lifted both hands, slipped them to the base of
Jimin’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. Jimin melted the moment their lips touched again, and
he leaned into the kiss, gripping the front of Jeongguk’s shirt. It wasn’t a mess of clashing teeth or
panting. Jeongguk’s lips were soft, and even though he had initiated the kissing, he was following
Jimin’s lead, gently sucking Jimin’s bottom lip and running his tongue along it whenever he could.
It was so slow, tantalizingly slow, enough to make the desire in the pit of Jimin’s stomach bubble
up all over again. He’d never been kissed like this.

“…After careful assessment,” Jimin whispered, just barely pulling away. “I’m happy to say that
your kissing is more than satisfactory.”

“Does that mean we can keep kissing?” Jeongguk asked, and Jimin grinned.

“Might as well.”

Jeongguk made sure the roses were out of the way, and then he hoisted Jimin straight up onto the
worktable in one go as Jimin let out a yelp and a laugh. Then he wrapped his legs around
Jeongguk’s waist, arms around his neck, and kissed him again and again. It was full on making out,
making out like two teenagers who had just discovered their feelings for each other, making out in
a way that Jimin hadn’t had for awhile. It was kissing in a way that made Jimin lose complete
track of time, made him lose all sense of what he was supposed to be doing.

“J-Jeongguk, I have to finish this,” Jimin said breathlessly, and Jeongguk finally pulled away as
Jimin assessed the situation. His white t-shirt was pushed halfway up his chest, Jeongguk’s shirt
had bunched up where Jimin had been fisting it, his hair was a tousled mess, Jimin’s lips felt
swollen, and Jeongguk’s face was flushed pink with happiness, pupils blown as he ran his hands
down Jimin’s back affectionately.

“We don’t have much left,” he said, eyes flicking down to the roses. “If we do it fast, we can go
back to making out.”

Jimin snickered as Jeongguk grinned, and then Jeongguk handed Jimin a rose and a strip of ribbon.
He didn’t let Jimin hop off the worktable, though, and it made Jimin feel surprisingly giddy.
Instead, he made Jimin hold up each rose at eye level, and then Jeongguk tied the ribbon perfectly
before adding it to the pile.

“Okay, can you help me box them up?” Jimin asked. Jeongguk bit his lower lip for a moment, and
then he swooped in and pecked Jimin on the lips quickly before turning and looking around for a
box, still blushing. Jimin slipped off the worktable, trying to make sense of what was going on. He
hadn’t heard from Jeongguk for two weeks, but all his irritation over it had evaporated upon
hearing that it had been because of nerves. Now Jimin felt nervous, because here Jeongguk was,
fresh off work, hopeful and eager to kiss Jimin and say nice things.

Maybe Jimin needed to keep taking chances.

“Here’s the box,” he said, pulling out a while solid box with a slip-on lid. “We can just put them all
in here, and then I’ll make sure they’re chilled and ready to deliver tomorrow.”

“You do the deliveries by yourself?” Jeongguk asked, gently placing some roses into the box like
Jimin was.

“Sometimes I do it if I’m not too busy. Other times, my best friend’s boyfriend will do it,” Jimin
replied. “But I’ll do this one tomorrow.”

“I’d love to be able to bring all the kids some of these flowers for our Saturday parties,” Jeongguk
said with a small sigh. “But some of them are medically fragile, you know? And I can’t risk
allergies. That’s the downfall of it. Here, these are the last ones.”

“Thanks,” Jimin said gratefully, heart aching dully as he considered what Jeongguk must see every
work shift. Then he slipped the lid onto the box and brought it to the refrigerator he had that kept
the flowers chilled and ready to go. “Hey, Jeongguk?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk said, pulling the straps on his backpack that he’d just picked up and slung overtop
his head and onto his shoulders like a child. Jimin suppressed a small smile.

“Um, are you… yeah. Are you doing anything tonight?” Jimin asked, heart skipping a beat.
Jeongguk stared at him for a moment, and then he smiled with his eyes first before it reached his
lips.

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you wanna, like… just—just come home with me?” Jimin offered. You idiot, you barely know
each other. He’s going to think you’re absolutely insane, you can’t—

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d—I’d really like that. Can we stop in Koreatown and get something to eat,
though? I haven’t had dinner yet,” Jeongguk said guiltily. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You bought me a new shirt, though,” Jimin argued.

“And you let me stay here an hour after closing. So I’ll pay for dinner. And I’ll drive you home,”
Jeongguk insisted. “And bring you back here tomorrow to get your car.”

“Tomorrow, huh?” Jimin teased as he gathered up his belongings, and Jeongguk froze on the spot,
eyes a bit wide before he grimaced while looking at Jimin for a reaction. “You sleeping over? We
going that far with it?”

“I’m an idiot,” Jeongguk said to himself with closed eyes. Jimin snickered and hurried forward,
nudging Jeongguk’s chest with his palms a few times before taking the younger’s face between his
hands and smacking a kiss on his lips that made Jeongguk laugh.

“You’re cute, though. Good kisser. Buys me stuff. Zero complaints from me so far if you’re
attempting to woo me,” Jimin said, his heart still racing and getting closed to emotional exhaustion.
He’d spent two fucking weeks wondering what he’d done wrong to run Jeongguk off, as if he
hadn’t left the hotel in the morning. He could’ve tracked down Seokjin, could’ve asked for
Jeongguk’s number, but his fears had gotten the better of him. Now Jeongguk was here, had just
waltzed into Bloom with a replacement shirt and a shy smile, and Jimin realized he could get used
to it. “Guess you’re going to have to start asking the lame questions.”

“Like what? Your favorite food? Your pet peeves?” Jeongguk asked, holding open the door for
Jimin as Jimin fumbled for the shop key to lock up.

“Actually, I was thinking maybe you could ask me about existentialism,” Jimin deadpanned, and
Jeongguk snickered as Jimin locked the door.

“Only if I can ask you questions about your flowers,” Jeongguk rebutted.

“You can ask me anything you want about my flowers. I name them sometimes,” Jimin said, and
Jeongguk grinned, yanking open the passenger side door of a black Audi. “Should I name one after
you? Maybe when the tiger flowers are in bloom and I can get my hands on some, I’ll name one
after you.”

“Can I come buy some if you get them?” Jeongguk asked, eyes wide with hope.

“I’ll just give some to you for free,” Jimin said casually, dropping into the passenger seat.
Jeongguk ran around to the other side, threw his backpack into the backseat, and then slid into the
driver’s seat. He then rested his elbow on the center console and stared at Jimin, so Jimin stared
back, his heart flipping. He had his hat back on, but fuck, Jeongguk was just… he was stunning.
He was physically and visually beautiful, but it was more his presence that had Jimin near
paralyzed. He seemed to just have radiant optimism and love seeping from his pores, a heart so
large that perhaps no one had yet to explore the depths of it. And that was just what Jimin had
picked up from sleeping with the man once and knowing him all of a day or so.

Jeongguk drove Jimin straight to Koreatown to pick up some food. They brought it back to Jimin’s
little house with a garden in the backyard and ate together sitting on the floor, using the coffee
table for their takeaway containers. Jimin crawled into Jeongguk’s lap halfway through drinking
their green tea after dinner, and Jeongguk happily leaned back against the couch and accepted all of
Jimin’s kisses with enthusiasm.

“I want to do this with you more often,” Jeongguk whispered between kisses, hands underneath
Jimin’s shirt. “I really like you, Jimin-ah. I want to spend more time with you.”

“You sure about that?” Jimin whispered back, brushing his nose against Jeongguk’s with a little
smile. “I’m a Libra.”

“That’s fine.”

“I can be a brat when things aren’t going my way.”

“Also fine. I’m a brat when no one’s paying attention to me.”

“I take forever to get ready in the morning.”

“Spend one week as a nurse and you won’t give a fuck how you look in the morning,” Jeongguk
replied, and Jimin let out a breathy laugh, scratching Jeongguk’s scalp slowly. “Seokjin hyung told
me this would happen.”

“That what would happen? You and me?”

“I—I mean, it’s not like it’s a-anything yet,” Jeongguk stammered. “But… I don’t know. He said
that the few times that he was with you, he always thought… I don’t know.”

“That we’d be good together?” Jimin whispered. “Well, look at us. Life happens fast as hell,
doesn’t it?”

“Not complaining,” Jeongguk whispered. “Definitely makes things interesting.”

“I know, doesn’t it? Now I can just call you when I want to get laid,” Jimin teased, and Jeongguk
burst out laughing, throwing his head back onto the cushion of the couch for a moment before
leaned in and latching onto Jimin’s neck, making Jimin giggle.

“Speaking of getting laid,” Jeongguk murmured, lips still on Jimin’s skin.

“Yeah? You wanna have sex now? You’re insatiable,” Jimin said. Jeongguk responded by pulling
Jimin closer to his chest and then reaching a hand around to smack him on the ass. Jimin let out a
yelp and a laugh, and then Jeongguk stood up and stretched, turning away from Jimin.

“Carry me.”

“Carry—oh, Lord. You weigh nothing,” Jeongguk laughed when Jimin hopped up onto Jeongguk
piggyback style. “You’re light as a feather. I could bench press you.”

“One. Two. Three—hey! Okay, fine. One! Two!” Jimin counted as Jeongguk gripped Jimin’s
thighs and started to do squats. He only got through seven of them before they were both laughing
too hard to continue, and then Jeongguk carried him into the bedroom.

***

It took Jimin three weeks to fall in love with Jeongguk.

It was the little things. It was how Jeongguk would call Bloom on his break and disguise his voice
to order one rose every day for the rest of eternity to be sent to Park Jimin. It was how he texted
Jimin every morning with a different flower emoji or a picture from the internet with a question
attached so he could learn more about Jimin’s line of work. It was how he would come over or
invite Jimin to his place on Sundays (their mutual day off) and ask to make bouquets or flower
crowns, or ask how to grow his own fresh herbs.

And Jimin eagerly reciprocated. He would cook dinner for Jeongguk, because Jeongguk was
always so exhausted after work. He brought Jeongguk presents and gave him a massage on
International Nurses Day and doted on him the entirety of Nurse Appreciation Week to the point
where Jeongguk broke down sobbing because he was so grateful that someone was doing his
laundry for him.

It took an entire month for Jeongguk to finally find a day off so that the two of them could go on
their first official date. Jeongguk showed up to Jimin’s door with a bouquet of tulips and cherry
blossoms, saying that he had searched all over the greater San Diego area to find someone who
wasn’t Jimin to make a decent bouquet that Jimin wouldn’t criticize. Jimin had choked back tears
while accepting them and deeming them acceptable before they’d gone out to dinner.

“So you’re absolutely certain.”

“I’m positive,” Jimin said, lifting the last of the boxes of flowers towards the van. Jung Hoseok,
standing in the back of the van, accepted the box and set it carefully beside the others, and then he
hopped down and sat on the edge of the van, legs dangling, ruffling his brown hair.

“I mean, I’ll help you with it,” Hoseok agreed with a chuckle. He was a professional dancer and
spent a lot of his time in Los Angeles, but he always came home to Taehyung and tended to be his
boyfriend’s muse. “But that’s a lot of work for free.”

“He’s worth it,” Jimin said firmly, and Hoseok stifled a laugh.

“Ah, Jiminie, you really are in love,” Hoseok said. Jimin would have denied it any other time, but
he felt like a moron denying it. He was head over heels in love and had fallen for Jeongguk at an
alarming speed, though he’d yet to say it in fear of running Jeongguk off too soon.

“I told you I was,” Jimin griped, sitting down beside Hoseok, still keeping an eye on the shop
through the back door. “I don’t know how he did it, but I’m fucking bewitched. He’s like the
perfect man, hyung. And he wants me.”

“And he likes your job,” Hoseok pointed out with a grin.

“I’ve never met anyone who wants to learn how to make a decent bouquet of flowers. But he
actually—like, he has a key to my house, right? And the other day—don’t look at me like that, I
trust him,” Jimin said when Hoseok raised his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. “The other day I
came home, right? And he was just—like, he was everywhere. He had all my fake flowers and he
had this YouTube video up and he was actively trying to make a good bouquet of flowers. And he
got mad when I walked in the door because he wasn’t finished.”

“So he’s in love, too,” Hoseok declared, and Jimin turned and punched him softly on the shoulder
as Hoseok hopped off the van, pulling out the keys to the van. “You two are gross. I’ll help you
with your little project. But you have to run it by the hospital first, okay?”

“Yeah, already on it,” Jimin declared, and then Hoseok saluted him and hopped into the van to
make the daily delivery as Jimin hurried back into the shop so he could plan his surprise.

Jeongguk had been talking for almost two weeks about the get-together that the pediatric oncology
unit was throwing for all the kids. It had taken a lot of moving and shifting, but on Saturday, the
children in the unit were going to be able to have a little dance party with some family members in
the newly renovated recreational room at the hospital.

Jimin’s plan was to make as many bouquets or little bowls or arrangements of flowers as he
possibly could, and then he was going to bring them to the pediatric oncology unit to decorate the
recreational room for the children. So he had his work cut out for him, and all Jimin could hope
was that he wouldn’t have many customers for the next few days so that he could pull off a proper
surprise.

It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, trying to juggle all the work he was doing on top of
managing his surprise on top of keeping it a secret from Jeongguk. The night that Jimin knew
Jeongguk was working the late shift, he stayed at Bloom until nearly midnight, choosing from the
mass of fake flowers he had ordered to create beautiful arrangements. He was using peonies,
daffodils, gardenias, white lilac, and sunflowers—all flowers that symbolized good health,
happiness, youth, and hope. He arranged some in tiny little clear bowls for display. He made
massive bouquets wrapped in ribbon, some wrapped in colorful tissue paper. He attached little
notes to a few of them, notes of encouragement and happiness.
“You excited for tomorrow?”

“Super excited,” Jeongguk murmured against Jimin’s chest, still trailing kisses wherever he could
find skin. Jimin continually ran his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, still a bit frazzled from being
fucked so well, but exploding with admiration for the man hovering over him.

“The kids will love it,” Jimin whispered as Jeongguk moved up to press a few soft kisses to the
bruising hickey he’d left on Jimin’s collarbone, his thumb gently massage the one on the inside of
Jimin’s leg as Jimin’s eyes fell closed in pure bliss.

I’m in love with you already, and I want you to love me back. Please love me.

“I hope they do,” Jeongguk said softly, rolling onto the pillows and pulling Jimin with him. Jimin
curled up into Jeongguk’s arms easily, naturally, eyes closed as he savored the feeling of
Jeongguk’s naked body on his. “I can’t stay tonight, baby.”

“That’s okay,” Jimin whispered, tracing Jeongguk’s name in Korean onto his chest absentmindedly
as he spoke. Jeongguk had just recently started calling him little terms of endearment outside of
sex, and it made Jimin inwardly swoon. “You need to be home before your big day tomorrow.”

“Are we still going to go to Joshua Tree National Park next weekend?” Jeongguk asked hopefully.
“You promised you’d take me.”

“Yeah, we can still go,” Jimin quietly said.

“Good, because next Sunday is important,” Jeongguk said. “Next Sunday makes it two months.”

“Two months?”

“Mhm. Two months since Namjoon hyung and Seokjin hyung’s wedding,” Jeongguk replied, and
Jimin couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. “So I’m pretending that we’ve been
together for two months.”

Jimin slowly pushed up to rest his elbows gently on Jeongguk’s chest, and Jeongguk immediately
reached up and ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair with a soft smile on his lips.

“Does that make me your boyfriend?” Jimin asked, and Jeongguk raised his eyebrows in surprise,
his hand freezing halfway through Jimin’s hair for just a moment before combing the rest of the
way through in slow motion.

“I… Well, I—I didn’t really—I wasn’t going to label it,” he stammered, and Jimin grinned,
pressing a soft kiss to Jeongguk’s lips.

“We’re not angst-ravaged teenagers, Guk,” Jimin joked, but then he added, “We’re adults. And I
want to be your boyfriend. I want that label. I want to date you and I want you to myself.”

“You already had me to yourself.”

“Well, now I’m making it official,” Jimin said with a grin that Jeongguk matched. “If you’ll have
me. If you don’t, that’s fine, I’ll just see myself out.”

“Stop it, stop it,” Jeongguk said as Jimin wiggled and pretended to leave. “Of course I’ll have you,
are you kidding? I can’t believe you just accept my fucking crazy life. I never thought I’d find
anyone who was okay with my work schedule, but you just—you just do. And you’re so beautiful,
and I love all your flowers, and I—”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jimin laughed, kissing Jeongguk once, twice, three times on the lips. “And
you accept that my whole house is exploding with flowers and soil and all kinds of crazy shit.”

“Well, when you make an entire salad from stuff you grew in your backyard,” Jeongguk said, “I’m
kind of inclined to just accept everything, you know? Man’s gotta eat.”

“Admit it. You just want me for the free food.”

“Sustainability, Jimin-ah,” Jeongguk said with emphasis, and then Jimin tackled him into the
pillows, smothering him with kisses until they were both breathless with laughter.

***

Children’s Hospital of San Diego wasn’t too far from where Bloom was located. Jeongguk’s shift
started at nine o’clock, so Jimin woke up at the crack of dawn and met Hoseok at the shop. He was
with a very sleepy Taehyung, but they were both ready to help.

“I’m taking a nap after this,” Taehyung said with a yawn, blue hair hanging in his puffy eyes as he
handed Hoseok another box. His presence hadn’t been necessary, but surely Taehyung hadn’t
wanted Hoseok to leave the warmth of their bed, so he had just gotten up and joined in. Jimin knew
his best friend well enough.

“Thanks for helping me,” Jimin said gratefully. “It’ll make setting up go faster.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that no one told Jeongguk you were doing this?” Hoseok asked,
sliding another box in.

“Pretty sure. I had to admit that I was his boyfriend and that I secretly love him and I want to make
the kids happy and all that,” Jimin rambled. “But they said it would be okay, so we’ll see how it
goes. I just—I don’t know. Jeongguk’s always happiest when he’s talking about his patients, you
know? When he talks about the kids. All he wants to do is make them happy, so I guess if I can
help, I will.”

“Ouch,” Taehyung said, clutching his heart and slumping dramatically against the open door of the
van. “Ah, I’m wounded. Babe, help me, I’m feeling. It’s too cute.”

“That’s how you know he’s your best friend,” Hoseok hissed loudly to Jimin, slamming one door
of the van shut as Jimin rolled his eyes with a small smile. Taehyung grinned, slamming the other
door shut, and then the three of them hopped into the van and drove to the hospital.

The two female nurses Jimin had spoken to on the phone let the three of them into the hospital and
led them to the recreational room, and Jimin began to whisper directions to Hoseok and Taehyung,
snapping his fingers so that they moved with haste. Jeongguk liked to come into work early
sometimes, and Jimin couldn’t risk being caught in the middle of setting up, even though the little
party wasn’t until eleven o’clock. He could only hope the nurses would follow through and keep
Jeongguk away from the room until party time.

Jimin hung up strands of sunflowers across the windows. Hoseok blew up balloons shaped like
flowers to scatter around the room. Taehyung arranged all of the flowers onto the little tables and
windowsills at Jimin’s direction. The three of them worked seamlessly, Jimin’s heart pounding
anxiously the entire time, but they managed to finish by half past eight.
“Okay, leave, go, go, go,” Jimin insisted, shooing Taehyung and Hoseok out of the recreational
room. “I’m gonna stay, but you two go. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Good luck,” Taehyung said, kissing Jimin’s cheek and squeezing his shoulder. Hoseok rubbed
Jimin’s back briefly in departure and promised to keep the shop closed until Jimin could return
after lunch. Jimin then snuck off to the waiting room area right around the corner and found
something to eat, shaking his leg nervously.

Two hours seemed to stretch into an eternity. Jimin got up and went for a walk outside. He got
another drink from the vending machine. He paced and paced until the clock read eleven, and then
his heart leapt into his throat. The nurse had promised to come get him from the waiting room
when things had settled, so that surely wouldn’t be for a good half hour.

It ended up being only fifteen minutes. She peeked around the corner with a radiant smile and
beckoned to Jimin, and Jimin hurried after her, heart slamming against his ribcage.

“They absolutely love it,” she whispered happily. “The parents love it, too. They’re all so happy.”

She slipped into the recreational room, and Jimin slowly stopped and stood in the doorway. It
didn’t take him long to find Jeongguk. He was wearing light blue scrubs and had his stethoscope
around his neck, and he had a little girl no more than four or five on one hip as he held her tightly
while she sucked her thumb. He was lightly volleying a flower balloon in front of her until she
lifted her head off his shoulder and smiled. Then Jeongguk gently bopped it against her bald head,
and she finally giggled. Another girl, maybe a few years older, rushed over to Jeongguk and held
up a whole bouquet of fake roses.

“Oh, are these for me? You shouldn’t have,” Jeongguk said dramatically, and the girl stifled a
laugh, curtsying with the appropriate theatrics and lifting them higher.

“Smell them!” she requested.

“Do they smell amazing?” Jeongguk asked, and then he leaned down and took a big sniff of the
fake flowers. “Ah, wow. Beautiful. Are you going to give them to Henry? Bet he’d like them. He
gave you those socks with cows on them, you know.”

“Ew, no! He’s gross,” the girl said, blanching and shaking her head. Then she scooted a little,
giggling. “Rosie, smell the roses!”

The little girl in Jeongguk’s arms leaned in and sniffed the flowers, and then she laid her head back
on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Right on cue, another little boy hurried up to Jeongguk with a balloon, so
Jeongguk knelt down with the girl still in his arms to address the boy.

That was when he saw Jimin at the door.

mood: casey stratton - "bloom"

Jimin leaned one shoulder against the doorframe with a small smile, and Jeongguk stared at him,
holding out a hand dazedly to accept the giant sunflower from the little boy. Jeongguk tilted his
head just a little, bottom lip between his teeth, and then he took a short, shallow breath. When he
blinked, Jimin saw his eyes turning glassy and a bit bloodshot, tears threatening to spill.
“I love you,” Jimin mouthed, because he had nothing left to lose, and Jeongguk needed to know
how he felt. Jeongguk blinked again, tears spilling from his eyes as he gave Jimin a watery smile,
hugging little Rosie close to him.

“I love you,” he mouthed back, lifting the hand with the sunflower in it so he could use the outside
edge of his hand to wipe away the tears.

“JEONGGUK!” one pre-teen girl hollered from across the room, waving her arm. “COME
HERE!”

Jeongguk stood up with Rosie still in his arms, and he shifted her to the other hip effortlessly. He
slowly shook his head in what Jimin could only describe as disbelief and wonderment, and love
absolutely exploded and consumed Jimin’s entire being. For everything Jeongguk had been doing
for him in the past two months, now Jimin had finally figured out a way to appreciate him.

The added bonus was knowing Jeongguk loved him, and besides seeing how happy the kids were,
that was most rewarding. Jimin slipped away when Jeongguk got distracted, knowing that
tomorrow the nurses would disperse all the arrangements of flowers to all the children’s rooms,
and all for free.

But Jimin couldn't work for free all the time, so he rushed back to Bloom and opened up at half
past noon, eating leftovers from the fridge he had in the back room and welcoming in customers in
a steady flow, some just browsing and some interested in buying. He signed two contracts for two
separate weddings, agreed to make two wreaths for a baby shower, and finished off the day by
making a bouquet of roses for an elderly man who was going to visit his wife in the nursing home.

“Ah, sorry, I’m closed for—Jeongguk,” Jimin breathed, dropping his pen and abandoning his post
behind the counter in an instant. Jeongguk pushed the door shut, locked it, flipped the sign, and
then rushed over to Jimin. He swept Jimin right off his feet, carried him into the back room, and
set him down, refusing to let go.

“How was the party?” Jimin whispered, and then he felt Jeongguk’s shoulders shaking. Moments
later, he felt tears soaking the collar of his shirt, so Jimin squeezed harder, hugged him tighter and
swayed the two of them a little bit. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry.”

“I love you s-so much,” Jeongguk said in a muffled voice through his tears, clinging to Jimin’s
shirt. “I love you, thank you. Thank you, it was so b-beautiful. The kids, they were s-so happy, you
just—I love you, I love you more than anything in the world.”

“I love you, too,” Jimin whispered with a smile, leaning back and bracing one hand behind
Jeongguk’s head, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the tears with his other hand. “Was it a
good surprise?”

“The best,” Jeongguk said tearfully, sniffing. “God, I cried like a baby after the party. All the other
nurses made fun of me for it. I was a mess.”

“No more tears,” Jimin said, even though he could feel a lump forming in his throat. “Now all the
kids get to have flowers in their rooms.”

“From the greatest man I know,” Jeongguk whispered, finally wrapping his arms fully around
Jimin and kissing him until Jimin was breathless with swollen lips. “Can’t believe I’m dating you.
Thank God I needed to get drunk at the wedding. Shit, I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Come home with me,” Jimin breathed, nuzzling into Jeongguk’s neck. “Please. So we can have
our day off tomorrow together and go to the park. Please, baby.”

Jeongguk didn’t argue for a second. He back-hugged Jimin the entire time Jimin balanced the
register and wrote up the finance report. He helped shift the more fragile plants to the appropriate
nightly resting spots. He walked around with a squirt bottle of water and sprayed a few of the plants
because he knew exactly which ones needed attention with Jimin having to tell him. Then he drove
Jimin home while holding tightly to his hand, lifting their entwined fingers every few minutes to
kiss Jimin’s knuckles.

Maybe they were both hungry for dinner, but neither one of them could focus on anything but
being impossibly close. Jimin had barely kicked off his shoes before Jeongguk and him up against
the door. He had Jimin writhing and moaning with his shirt pushed up in a matter of minutes just
from kissing and daring to touch, and then he removed Jimin’s shirt and ran his large hands all over
Jimin’s torso.

“My beautiful boy,” he whispered in Jimin’s ear, and Jimin’s knees buckled. He was so fucking
weak for this man. “With his beautiful flowers. God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Jimin whispered, and then Jeongguk started tugging him towards the bedroom.
Jimin didn’t argue. He let Jeongguk take him into the bedroom, let Jeongguk undress him. He
turned the table and pinned Jeongguk to the bed to kiss every inch of his body, neither one of them
rushing. There was no need. They had one another, along with all the time in the world.

“You wanna know something?” Jeongguk finally whispered when he was propped up against the
pillows with Jimin in his lap. Jimin rolled his hips slowly once, and Jeongguk thrusted up in
response, making Jimin let out a little gasp at the sensation.

“Tell me,” he whispered, hands all over Jeongguk’s strong chest, over his broad shoulders, down
his muscular arms, feeling invincible. Jimin was no blushing virgin. He’d had his fair share of
sexual partners. But having sex with Jeongguk was like opening up an entirely new world. Jimin
figured that love being involved made a difference.

“Some of the kids asked me who brought the flowers,” Jeongguk said. “And I told them a beautiful
fairy brought them.”

“The flower fairy?”

“Mhm.” Jeongguk gripped Jimin’s hips and slowly, deeply fucked up into him, and Jimin dug his
fingernails into Jeongguk’s chest, trying to catch his breath.

“Flower fairy’s available for the hospital at any time,” he whispered, and Jeongguk grinned
happily. Then he rolled the two of them over, and Jimin just stared up at the man he loved,
breathless. He had never imagined himself falling in love so quickly, almost recklessly, but
Jeongguk was that special case. Jimin had fallen in love like a swan dive off a cliff—momentary
suspension, and then the deep plunge into a whirlwind. There was no scenario in which he wanted
to imagine a future within Jeongguk by his side, and it wasn’t scary.

“I love you,” Jimin breathed as Jeongguk fumbled and found Jimin’s hand, lacing their fingers
together and pushing their joined hands into the mattress, his other hand on Jimin’s chest,
thumbing over his nipple as he deepened his thrusts and watched Jimin’s reaction carefully. He had
Jimin writhing and moaning again in seconds, deep in the throes of pleasure, words of pure
affection tumbling from his lips with every touch. When he finally reached his orgasm without
Jeongguk so much as touching him, it felt like magic. Nobody could do what Jeongguk did to him.
Absolutely no one.
“…Jimin,” Jeongguk panted, holding Jimin close to his chest, both of them able to feel the rapid
beating of the other’s heart. Jimin’s heart rate increased the moment he heard his name with such
affection. “Baby, I…”

“Yeah?”

“I want this forever,” Jeongguk whispered into Jimin’s ear, holding him tighter. “I want you
forever. I never want this to end.”

“Don’t you worry,” Jimin whispered back, blissfully happy, the rest of the world blurring at the
edges around them, the two of them safe in a makeshift cocoon where nothing could possibly taint
what they had together. “We’re just getting started.”

***

“Just getting started” turned into weeks, and then months, and then years.

It was miraculous to Jimin, how one chance encounter in search of a one-night stand had radically
changed the entire trajectory of his life. He had planned to keep his little shop and his little home
for the rest of his foreseeable life. Jeon Jeongguk had come in like a hurricane and had tossed up all
those plans. Instead, Jimin’s business grew so much in the span of a year that he had to shut down
his little 900-square-foot shop and transfer to a larger building that included an outdoor garden
area. At the same time he transferred shops, Jeongguk showed up on Jimin’s doorstep one night
starry-eyed, saying that he was sure he’d found the perfect little two-bedroom house with an even
bigger space for gardening.

So, of course, Jimin had cried and agreed to move in with Jeongguk to the little house where they
cold grow a garden, where they kept the windows open when the weather was nice and had an
array of house plants and fresh herbs growing on the windowsill. It was a home where Jeongguk
could lay his head after a long day at work. It was the place he could come to share his stories, the
trials and tribulations of being a pediatric nurse, with Jimin. Most days, the stories were beautiful
and funny. One day, though, he came home sobbing, saying that his little Rosie had passed away,
and he needed flowers for her funeral. And Jimin was there to comfort him and wipe all the tears,
promising him that it would all be okay eventually, even if it didn’t feel okay in the moment. And
then he promised to make enough beautiful flowers to commemorate a beautiful little girl,
promised to make flower bouquets for Jeongguk to take to her burial marking every week.

One year turned into two, and then into a third. Jimin did all the flower arrangements and even
made Taehyung’s flower crown when he married Hoseok in a small October ceremony where
neither one of them had to wear shoes. Jeongguk was asked to assume a senior role at the hospital
only a week after that ceremony. Jimin realized that once he found Jeongguk, things in life began to
fall into place naturally like the change of seasons. Life just made sense in ways that he couldn’t
explain.

JEONGGUKIE [06:03:35PM]

Come to the backyard when you get home!

JIMIN [ 06:04:03PM]

Did some animal dig up the yard again?

JEONGGUKIE [06:04:39PM]

LOL no animals. Just come to the backyard!

So Jimin flipped the sign closed for the store, gathered all of his belongings, whispered a goodbye
to the flowers closest to the front door, and then left his beautiful shop for the night, headed for his
own backyard. It was nearly Christmas—Jimin realized that it was Winter Solstice when he
glanced at his phone and saw the date. Maybe Jeongguk was trying to throw together some last-
minute presents. Or maybe he was just grilling some meat and wanted some company. Jeon
Jeongguk was anything but predictable.

Jimin kicked his shoes off at the front door and chose some house slippers, shrugging out of his
bag.

“Jeonggukie?” he called out. “Baby, are you still out back?”

“OUT HERE!”

Jimin followed the voice, but he slowed down when he reached the sliding glass door to the back
patio. He slowly stepped outside, and then he stared.

“What’s all this?” he whispered, looking around. The entire yard was illuminated with brilliant
twinkle lights strung up across from one side of the roof to the other, and around the entire fence of
the backyard. There were lanterns making flower patterns from the light scattered around the yard
as well, and Jimin was sure he had never seen anything so stunning. What stunned him the most
was that the backyard was filled with flowers. There were small little stands, tiny tables all filled
with flower arrangements, so many that Jimin nearly went cross-eyed. And then there was
Jeongguk, wearing black jeans and a flower-print white button-up with the sleeves rolled, standing
in the middle of all the beautiful mayhem.

“What…?” Jimin whispered, but Jeongguk just stepped forward and wrapped one arm around his
waist.

“I made something for you,” he said in the affectionate tone of voice he used only when he was
overcome with love. Then he lifted one hand and gently placed the flower crown on Jimin’s head,
fingers flitting down to brush some hair away from Jimin’s eyes. Jimin looked right and left in a
daze, looked around at the backyard full of beautiful flower arrangements, all meticulously
gathered together in all varieties of colors, each with a tag to them.

“What is all this?” Jimin whispered.

mood: mumford & sons - "rose of sharon"

“You always make the world beautiful for everyone else. So I thought maybe I could make it
beautiful for you,” Jeongguk replied. “I gathered as many flowers as I could for all the seasons
we’ve been together. Some of them are fake, since it’s winter and they don’t grow as well. I
learned that from you. But the ones that are in season are fresh.”

“And they…”

“Well, each arrangement I made has a moment,” Jeongguk answered, his free hand coming up to
cup Jimin’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone lovingly. “Like the night we first met.” He
pointed to the vibrant pastel hydrangeas, the flowers Jimin had used for the wedding the night he
had met Jeongguk. “Or the tulips and cherry blossoms from our first date.”

“Y-You… You did…?”

“I told you.” Jeongguk pressed a kiss to Jimin’s forehead. “You make such beautiful things for
other people, baby. Who makes beautiful things for you like you deserve?”

“You do,” Jimin said in awe, and Jeongguk’s eyes erupted in happy fireworks before he leaned
down and connected their lips in a kiss that said more than words could. Jimin clung tightly to
Jeongguk’s waist, flower crown still on his head, feeling overwhelmed with emotion suddenly as
they kissed. There was no one else in the world who had ever dared to dream up such a romantic
gesture for Jimin, but Jeongguk’s mind was magical all on its own. He could dream wondrous
things in ways that Jimin could hardly fathom.

“I’ll show you all the flowers I made,” Jeongguk said. “But there’s something more important I
need to do first.”

“Which is what?” Jimin asked, brushing their noses together before leaning his head back with a
smile, feeling love seep through his skin and straight to his soul.

“Ask you to marry me.”

Jimin’s heart lurched as it absorbed all of the love, and he stared at Jeongguk in disbelief, but
Jeongguk’s beautiful face was breaking into a radiant smile, the kind of smile he only reserved for
moments when he was irreversibly happy.

“Don’t act like you didn’t see it coming,” he teased Jimin, swaying them side to side a little. Jimin
continually opened and shut his mouth, words utterly failing him, all vocabulary escaping his
brain. He lost all his ability to speak when Jeongguk kissed his left temple, squeezed his hand, and
then slowly sank down onto one knee, glancing up at Jimin while still holding his hand.

“J-Jeongguk—”

“You told me a thousand times that you don’t want a fancy proposal, and that you don’t want a
ring,” Jeongguk said simply. “Maybe you really do want a ring and you’re just trying to play it off.
And maybe one day soon I’ll need to buy you a ring. But I thought that for now, this might do.” He
reached into his back pocket and pulled out a single flower—a Korean rose. Otherwise known as a
hibiscus syriacus, a rose of Sharon, a mugunghwa, a flower that symbolized deep affection. It held
so many meanings that Jimin almost fell to his knees.

“Jeongguk,” he whispered again, legs unsteady, tears burning his eyes.

“It’s a fake flower,” he said. “I thought of getting you a real one, but I don’t want it to die. I want it
to stay perfect forever so that you know. I want us to stay with each other forever. I found you
when I least expected to, and I can’t remember ever being so happy in my life. Meeting you…
yeah. Meeting you has changed the entire course of my life. Falling in love with you was the best
decision I never made myself. That was my heart. Which you own, and you know it. And you keep
it safe, and I love you so much for that. I love you so much regardless. We don’t complete each
other, baby, because we were already complete when we met, right? But you’re my ten percent.
I’m one hundred, but you make me one hundred and ten percent. You make me want to be better.
And I know you feel the same about me. Do you? Do you feel the same?”

“Yes,” Jimin whispered, blinking and letting the tears trickle down his cheeks now.

“Then marry me,” Jeongguk said with that same smile that took Jimin’s breath away even more
than the words coming out of his mouth. “Stay with me forever. Let me make you smile every day.
I want you to do the same for me. I love you, Park Jimin. I love everything about you. Please
marry me. Will you? Will you marry me?”

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Jimin agreed tearfully without hesitance. Jeongguk beamed, offering
the flower. Jimin took it with a shaking hand, and then Jeongguk stood up and swept Jimin into his
arms as Jimin let out a laugh drenched in pure, unadulterated happiness, burying his face in
Jeongguk’s shoulder, arms around his neck.

“I love you, I love you, I love you. I—love—you,” Jimin said as he pressed kisses to Jeongguk’s
neck. Jeongguk cradled the back of Jimin’s head in one hand and kept his other arm around Jimin’s
waist as he pulled away, grinning proudly.

“I love you, too. Was that a yes?”

“It was a yes,” Jimin confirmed, running his fingers upward through Jeongguk’s hair and back
down to his neck. “Definitely a yes. Oh my God, yes, what are you—yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

“That’s good news, because I think all our friends are ready to murder me,” Jeongguk replied with
a grin, and Jimin raised his eyebrows, feeling like he was still floating as he stared at his fiancé.
His fiancé, holy shit. He had one of those now.

“Why’s that?”

“You know how much work it took to hide all these flowers from you? Hoseok hyung and
Taehyungie hyung were drowning in flowers. Yoongi hyung had a few of them, too. I even kept
some at Seokjin hyung and Namjoon hyung’s place. Saemi destroyed one or two of them, bless
her,” Jeongguk sighed, referencing the couple’s fourteen-month-old daughter.

“They’re beautiful. They’re so beautiful, I—fuck, I wasn’t expecting this at all,” Jimin laughed,
and Jeongguk smiled proudly.

“It’s Winter Solstice,” he reminded Jimin. “You always talk about how much you like winter and
all the winter flowers and that you miss the snow. So I thought today would be a good day.”

“You remember everything,” Jimin said softly, taking Jeongguk’s face gently into his hands,
admiring. He was twenty-eight now, but Jimin was convinced Jeongguk would never lose the
beauty of his youth. It was all in his eyes, the relentless sparkle of a child.

“I remember the night we met like it was yesterday,” Jeongguk said, and then he took Jimin’s hand
and led him over to the hydrangeas. “I spent three years taking notes. Remembering all of our
important dates, important moments. And I found flowers for them.”

Jeongguk then began to lead Jimin by hand around their backyard, showing all the tags and all the
flowers that he had gathered over months (months!) of preparation, wiping away Jimin’s tears,
 hugging him as they walked, kissing his cheek whenever Jimin was at a loss for words. The more
he talked, the more Jimin became convinced that the universe had moved in his favor. He had
never imagined himself being so in love with his own love story, but he wanted to bind it and re-
read it every night. He wanted to read it until the spine cracked and the pages yellowed, until he
had to press all his flowers between the pages to preserve them.

“You found me,” Jimin replied. “You found the flowers, but you… you found me, too.”

“Can I keep you?” Jeongguk asked, and then he plucked the rose out of Jimin’s hand, pretended to
dust it off, and presented it to Jimin again. “Can I love you forever, Park Jimin?”

Jimin accepted the rose for a second time. He would accept that same rose over and over again
until the day he died.

“As long as I can love you forever, too.”

End Notes

*shoves mountains of fluff out the way* Whew, OK! Hi there! Hope you survived!

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