Work Text:
Ben had only been working at Auradon Flowers for a few weeks when the empty building across the street was suddenly a hub of activity. When he wasn't arranging bouquets or tending to the plants, he found himself sneaking glances out the window. His father would've had a fit about Ben 'slacking on the job' but more and more often his father wasn't around at all, working on his mayoral campaign, leaving the entire shop to be managed by Ben and the few part-time employees they had.
It was during one of these staring sessions that Chad sidled up to him quietly and asked, "Whatcha looking at?"
Ben startled and nearly dropped the watering can he was not actually using. Chad just gave him his usual dorky grin and patted him on the shoulder a bit too hard.
"Looking at the new guys, huh? They'd better not be another flower shop."
Ben sighed, "If they are, then I welcome the competition."
"We'll definitely crush them!" Chad declared, standing up straighter in what he liked to call his 'future king' pose. Ben was used to the dramatics and barely reacted.
Sometimes he thought Chad would be a better manager than he was, given how enthusiastic Chad was about everything, but especially about anything related to having control and power. Running a flower shop wasn't exactly being a king, but Ben thought it was about the closest Chad could get.
Ben almost turned around to start watering in another area when movement outside caught his eye. Thus far it had only been construction workers and moving companies going in and out of the shop across the street. Ben had assumed it was some sort of hair salon with the large chairs he saw carried in a few days ago, but other than that he didn't have any idea.
The movement he saw was actually a few people, probably not construction workers given that they were younger and less buff than the people he had seen before. There was a short girl with long dark blue braids, a taller guy with blond hair and impressive biceps, and a thinner but equally tall guy with black hair and heavy black eyeliner—heavy enough he could easily tell from across the street.
And almost every inch of visible skin on the trio was covered in tattoos.
Ben couldn't see the details from where he was, but he found himself intrigued by the colorful designs and black lines sweeping across their skin. He didn't know anyone with tattoos, and his parents had always made snide comments and shook their heads when they walked by anyone with them. Ben had always secretly thought that tattoos were cool. It's really brave to sit under a needle for hours and the idea of having a piece of art permanently on his skin was intriguing.
The trio were chatting outside the shop (a tattoo shop, Ben could guess now), when the blond man suddenly picked up the woman and put her on his shoulders. In her hands was a wooden sign and when she hung it up above the door Ben could read Sea Three Tattoos & Piercings. There was a design of a pirate ship next to the name.
Ben watched the three of them head into the shop, catching a glimpse of paint cans piled inside, and then the door swung closed behind them and his excitement for the day was over. It was just as well, since his father came bustling in with piles of paperwork that he unceremoniously dropped on the check-out counter.
"These are for you, son," he declared. Ben eyed the stack dubiously but kept his mouth shut. "It's time you start working on the finances if you want to inherit this business."
What if I don't want to? Ben thinks, but again, stays silent.
"Read through those and then do the ordering for next month. Don't forget the arrangements for the wedding this weekend," he looked around the shop with an unhappy expression. "And try sweeping around here once in a while."
Ben bit his tongue so hard it almost bled and just replied, "Yes, dad."
His father was on his way out the door again when Chad, of course, piped up with, "Hey, Mr. Beast!"
Their last name was actually Beste but Chad had never pronounced it correctly since the day he started working there. His father didn't seem to mind, however, since he turned and answered in a much nicer tone than the one he was just using with his own son, "Yes, Chad?"
"Chad," Ben scoffed under his breath as he started arranging the paperwork into manageable piles. All he got was 'son'.
"Did you see the new shop across the street? Do you know who they are?"
Any goodwill Chad might've had with his dad was lost as the expression on his face turned sour.
"Yes, I checked the registries just this morning. A bunch of hooligans have set up a tattoo parlor," he scoffed, eerily similar to how Ben just did a moment before. His father put a hand on the door and pushed it just slightly—a dramatic exit was his usual way of ending a conversation he didn't like. "What is happening to our good neighborhood? I can't believe they let those kinds of people in."
Ben tried to shut up, he really did, but as soon as he heard 'those kinds' he couldn't stay silent any longer.
"What kind of people?" He asked, his voice and expression the picture of innocence. His father whirled around and stepped closer, letting go of the door which fully closed again with a soft whump.
"Excuse me?"
Ben idly grabbed some papers and started straightening them, "I'm just wondering what you mean. They seem like hard-working business owners just like us. What's the big deal?"
His father moved closer to loom over him, and Ben clutched the papers a little harder to hide how he was still shaken by the force of his father's anger, even though they were nearly the same height by now.
"The problem is," his father all but hissed. "Those kinds of people come into good neighborhoods and corrupt the youth with their tattoos and death metal and drugs. We're good law-abiding citizens in this town."
Ben expected this kind of response from his father, but it still burned him to know that if his dad were to become mayor like he wanted, that he would harass people just trying to make a living and express themselves. He could only imagine the kind of restrictive laws he would try to pass. He would probably try to put anyone he didn't like on a deserted island.
Ben mustered up whatever confidence he could find after it all drained out of him a moment ago and shrugged, "Doesn't seem like they're breaking any laws."
"Yet," his father warned, pointing a finger at him. He made his way back to the door and took one step outside before he turned back dramatically to declare, "You'd do best to stay away from that shop, son."
And with that his father was gone, leaving Ben with a mountain of paperwork and sweaty palms.
"Wow, he sure is an incredible man," Chad breathed out, staring at the closed door in admiration.
"Incredible is one way to put it," Ben replied, rolling his eyes. Get a grip, he thought to himself, and started looking at the paperwork and making a mental to-do list. Chad moved on too, wondering out loud when Audrey would show up and planning their wedding despite the fact that they had never gone out on a single date.
But the tattoo shop across the street never left Ben's mind, and he found himself oddly curious about the three people (the titular Sea Three?) he had seen earlier.
Maybe he would bring some flowers over one day.
Ben managed to get all the paperwork checked and filed, the order for next month done, and make all the arrangements for the wedding. Though he did have to work late all weekend in order to do it. The only upside was catching glances of the tattoo shop workers as they brought things in and out—mostly spray paint cans (out) and succulents (in). It was possible his work took so long because he was staring out the window so much, but as a flower shop manager and greenery enthusiast it was his duty to monitor any and all plant activity. He had already thought of a few arrangements that would look great with what they had.
He was still too far away to really see their faces or tattoos in any detail, but he was able to get an idea of each one just based on the outfits he would see. They all had a general pirate aesthetic, but in their own unique ways. The woman looked like a captain, decked out in jewelry and wearing corsets and layered skirts. The blond man was decidedly softer, in loose tops and simple pants, dressed more for manual labor than for art. The last man, with the black hair, reminded him of the pirates you see in movies but with a punk twist. He wore lots of tight, ripped clothes with buckles and straps, and always had some sort of boots on. The three of them should have clashed, but it was clear they were a team and fit together like puzzle pieces despite their differences.
It was those differences that inspired the ready-made bouquets he prepped on Sunday, and by the time they had an official opening date (next week Thursday) he already had a grand opening arrangement in mind.
Nine o'clock was too damn early for anyone to be awake, Harry thought as he almost stabbed himself in the eye with a mascara wand for the third time. The shop didn't open officially until noon, but Uma had insisted they needed to be there early to set up and clean.
It wasn't that he didn't care or wasn't excited for their grand opening, but he already knew everything would be perfect because Uma arranged it, and thus he wasn't as frazzled as his co-owner was. He bought an iced coffee from the cafe near his apartment and then desperately tried not to spill it as he rode his motorcycle over to the tattoo shop. There was a cafe closer to the shop, but that was a no-go for various reasons, a major one being the mutual hatred he shared with about half of the staff there.
When he pulled up outside the shop Uma was already inside, and Gil was running late as usual. Harry checked his pocket watch, delighted that he arrived exactly when he told Uma he would be there. Once he finally parked and chugged the last of his coffee, he noticed a package at the front door.
It wasn't the usual package in a cardboard box they'd been getting every day as they prepared the shop. No, this was mostly shiny plastic and tissue paper, with a big ribbon wrapped around it. When he bent down to inspect it, he realized it was flowers. He had a brief moment of panicked joy—Who the hell was sending him flowers? Was it...? No, of course not. But then why—before his brain kicked in and guessed they were for Uma.
He grabbed them on his way in and before he could even say anything, Uma called from the storage room, "You're late!"
"No, I ain't!" Harry huffed. He looked up at the wall clock as he continued, "You said ten and it's—"
"Ten fifteen." Uma came out of the back carrying a small box, a sly smile on her face. Of course she won the bet, because Uma never lost, unless it suited her to do so.
Harry deflated and grumbled, "That damn shitty pocket watch."
Uma laughed as she unloaded the box, carefully placing piles of business cards and art prints across a table.
"What's with the flowers?" She asked.
"Oh, I think they're for ye," he dumped his bag on the waiting area couch and fumbled for the card on the bouquet. "Sure as hell ain't for me."
"You never know," Uma teased. "You're not too bad to look at."
"Lass," Harry replied, just because he knew how the name annoyed her. He threw an arm around her shoulders and shook her small frame around. "Any queer in a twen'y mile radius is either a god-fearin' gentleman or me ex."
"And what's wrong with gentlemen?"
"Dull. Vanilla. Usually scared o' me."
"Ah, that might be a problem," Uma admitted. She wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and they stood there like that for a moment, looking over the table and the shop beyond that. Uma's voice was quieter when she said, "It's a fresh start, though, right?"
Harry squeezed her shoulder, "Right you are, cap'n."
"So what did the card say?"
"Huh? Oh, just 'congratulations'."
"Lame," Uma whined. "But appreciated. Can you put 'em in a vase?"
"Do we even have a vase?"
Suddenly a voice boomed from the front entryway, much too loud for the size of the shop, "Under the front counter!"
Harry looked at Gil incredulously, as Uma came over to help him with the boxes from the local bakery he was carrying.
"Why is there a vase under the counter?"
"Where else would it go?" Gil said, as if it made the most sense in the world. Harry checked under the counter and, lo and behold, there was a beautiful large vase under there.
Harry laughed, "Y'know what, Gil? Yer right."
Gil beamed, which made Uma grin too, and soon they were all laughing like fools in the new shop that was finally theirs, not just a hand-me-down from Harry's father. It was the most free he had felt in weeks and even the mysterious bouquet couldn't change that.
Okay, maybe a mysterious bouquet could change that. Or rather, mysterious bouquets because a new one showed up every day since opening. They had to start putting them in plastic bottles and cups because they only had the one nice vase, and the flowers weren't dying fast enough to require a replacement every day.
The notes on the cards had also gotten more detailed and thus, more intriguing. The first one had just read "Congratulations!". The next one said "Good luck!", then "I like your logo," then "Hope everything is going well". It wasn't until the fifth one, on Monday, that their benefactor left a name.
The card on the bouquet read, "Hope you have a good week! - Ben"
Uma was delighted with the free gifts and decoration. Gil always had pollen on his nose from shoving his face into the flowers to smell them.
And Harry, always the suspicious and paranoid one of the lot, was just annoyed. What did this Ben guy want? Did he think he was getting a free tattoo just because of his gifts? He had almost marched over to Auradon Flowers multiple times, planning to demand they reveal their customer or at least stop taking his orders. Uma had stopped him every time, saying something about 'keeping the peace' and 'not breaking any laws again' and other boring stuff that she always told him.
But today was Tuesday, and the shop was closed, and what Uma didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
Tuesdays were rather slow at Auradon Flowers. Usually there was a rush on Monday as people came in to prepare gifts and make plans for future events. The end of the week was also busy because people assumed the shop wouldn't be open on weekends. But barring a holiday, Tuesdays were rather slow and relaxing, leaving Ben plenty of time to listen to music and take care of his flowers.
So when the door slammed open and a man came inside demanding, "Who is Ben?!", he almost had a heart attack.
Ben put down his pruning shears and turned around, spotting a man who already started looking embarrassed at his actions. A man who was extremely attractive and wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a cropped t-shirt. A man covered in gorgeous tattoos depicting the ocean, ships and sea creatures. A man who definitely worked across the street and was somehow already mad at him.
"Um, that would be me," Ben answered. He did an awkward little wave.
The other man seemed equally caught off guard, but collected himself quickly and returned to glaring at Ben, "Are you the one sending us flowers?"
"Yes," Ben said slowly. "Did you not like them?"
"No!" The man replied quickly, then cringed a little. "I mean, yes. Kind of? Just, why are ye doin' this?"
Ben laughed, "I wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood and wish you good luck."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to?"
The man seemed to deflate at that and he finally smiled at Ben when he thrust out a hand, equally tattooed as the rest of him, "I'm Harry."
Ben grasped his hand and felt his pulse pick up at the man—Harry's—warmth. "I'm— I'm Ben."
Harry laughed, "Ah figured."
Ben blushed a bit at the teasing but managed to give it right back, "Right, because you came in here yelling my name."
"Usually 'm yellin' names in a different place," Harry remarked under his breath and Ben's small blush turned into a full-blown red face.
Harry gave him a wide-eyed innocent look, "Y'know, at tourney games? I just love me... sports."
Ben burst out laughing, putting a hand on the nearby counter to hold himself up. Harry moved in closer, and Ben had a brief thought that Harry was going to put a hand out to hold him up as well.
"Shut up!"
"Yer right," Harry continued, also laughing. "I dunno shite about tourney."
Ben did a faux gasp and took on a dramatic tone, holding a hand to his chest, "You don't? How can you even live with yourself? Tourney is a real man's sport."
"It's borin' as hell," Harry moved closer again, leaning a hip against the counter and revealing more skin as his crop top rode up. "Those real men and their tight uniforms ain't half bad, though."
Ben's eyes were drawn back to Harry's ripped jeans at the mention of tight and when he flicked them back up to his eyes, Harry was smirking at him.
"Your uniform? Not so much," Harry snarked, giving Ben an obvious onceover as well.
"Hey! Not all of us can dress like— like a..."
Harry crossed his arms, not angry yet but defensive, "A what?"
Ben, in his effort to not screw this up anymore (curse his nerves in front of hot people) and to not offend Harry, blurted out, "Like a sexy pirate!"
Harry's arms uncrossed again, and he slipped a hand into the pocket of his cocked hip.
"Ye think 'm sexy?"
Ben flushed again and ducked his head, "I— I mean—"
Harry pushed off from the counter and took a few steps backwards, facing Ben and heading towards the door, "I'll see you around Ben."
"Yeah," Ben breathed, trying to gather himself after the embarrassment of the entire conversation. "Don't be a stranger."
Harry gave him one last smirk and a two-fingered salute, "Wouldn't dream of it."
And with a twirl, Harry was out the door and Ben was collapsing back against the counter. He put a hand to his chest and tried to calm his pounding heart, while also trying to not replay the conversation a thousand times to agonize over what he could've done differently. Harry was gorgeous and flirty and way out of his league. He had to be realistic about this.
"I'm in love!"
Harry collapsed on the couch after his announcement, sprawling back dramatically and putting an arm over his eyes.
Uma barely looked up from the person she was tattooing, "Who is it now, Harry? The pizza delivery guy? The barista? The guy driving your Uber?"
"Hey!" Harry sat up to properly pout at her, even if she wasn't looking any more. "That was one time!"
"It was twice, and the second time you made me fifteen minutes late."
"Rude. It was at least thir'y minutes." Harry grinned and caught a small laugh from the girl Uma was tattooing. She looked like a first-timer, given how nervous she was and the lack of visible tattoos. Her pink hair was cool, though.
"The point is that you're in love every week," Uma finally looked up to give him an unimpressed look. "And we know how the last time went."
Harry winced and fell back down on the couch. Last time resulted in a lot of yelling and a coffee shop he couldn't return to.
Gil popped up from behind the chair he was fiddling around with and asked, "Is it Ben?"
Harry spluttered, falling off the couch in his effort to get up as fast as possible to glare at Gil. "How d'ye know tha'?"
"Ben? Like flower guy Ben?" Uma asked incredulously, though Harry ignored her to glare menacingly at Gil. Like usual, it had no effect on him.
"I met Ben at the gym," Gil explained, shrugging. "He's a nice guy. Not as strong as me."
"No one's as strong as you," Uma and Harry replied in unison. Gil grinned.
Now that Gil had guessed so luckily, Harry figured he should just lay all his cards out on the table. He explained how he went over to the flower shop on Tuesday to complain, but Ben had been so earnest and just a little flirty, and all of Harry's previous woes about god-fearin' gentlemen went out the window.
"So did you get his number?" Uma asked when he was finally finished telling his story. Her client was done, a beautiful butterfly on her thigh, and all that was left was wrapping it and paying.
"No," Harry whined. "I don't even know if he likes boys."
"Oh, he does," the client said. Uma and Harry stared at her, one in surprise and the other in embarrassment. "I work over at Auradon. I'm Audrey."
Harry waved from where he was trying to crawl into the couch in his shame. He just ranted about the guy to his co-worker!
"He definitely likes both," Audrey giggled as she took out her card to pay. "You should go for it."
Harry just groaned and rolled around on the couch some more. He tuned out Audrey and Uma's conversation and only got up when Uma came over to kick him and demand he leave the couch for paying customers.
For the rest of the day, Harry thought about what Audrey said and the different things he could've said to Ben. He was quieter than usual during his appointments, but thankfully his clients didn't care. When he left the shop that night he couldn't help glancing over at the flower shop, noticing the lights were still on and wondering what Ben was doing.
He shook his head rapidly to clear his thoughts and drove back home, gripping his handlebars tight.
Nothing happened for the next few days, and Harry almost put the whole thing out of his mind. He had a lot of cool tattoos to do this month and he needed to focus, not daydream about picnic dates and doodle hearts like he was a kid again.
But whenever he wasn't working on designs or tattooing, he found himself sketching flowers and green eyes. He hid the sketches from Gil and Uma, but he could feel Uma's discerning gaze on him whenever she caught him hunched over his sketchbook.
He spent his days drawing and tattooing, with the occasional piercing, and his nights eating takeout and watching romantic movies to laugh at them (definitely not to imagine himself in place of the main character, no way). It wasn't until a week later that something changed.
On a fairly busy Wednesday afternoon, there was a knock on their front door. Uma, Gil and Harry looked at each other confusedly—who knocks instead of just coming in? Harry called out, "come in!" but nothing happened.
Uma was the only one not busy at the moment, so she got up to answer the door. Harry turned back to his client, keeping an ear out for any conversation. Instead he heard Uma murmur to herself and then come back in.
"Seems like flower boy isn't done yet," she said. When Harry looked up, he saw a single red rose in her hand.
"Oooh, I wanna smell!" Gil exclaimed, moving to get up before Uma held a hand out to stop him.
Uma looked at Harry, who felt like he had food poisoning with the way his stomach was flipping. She raised her eyebrows at him, "You want it in a vase? In the garbage?"
"It's—" Harry started, voice breaking. He clears his throat. "It's not for me."
"Let's agree to disagree," Uma replied. She grabbed a plastic cup that had their logo on it, filled it with water and placed the rose inside, setting it on the table in Harry's corner of the shop.
"A secret admirer?" His client asked, but Harry just shook his head and focused back on his art.
He liked to think he kept an impassive expression on his face, but internally he felt like he was screaming. A rose? That was pretty much the classic romantic flower. Unless there was some other secret meaning? Something like 'go away and never talk to me again'? God, why hadn't he listened when his mother talked about this stuff?
The memory of his mother jolted him out of his reverie, snapping his eyes away from where they had drifted over to look at the rose again. It wasn't what he thought. It was nothing. Just another stupid gift. It probably wasn't even for him, but for the shop. It didn't matter. It was fine.
Turns out, it was not fine. The next day brought the same knock and a single rose left at the door. No note again, but Harry had looked it up the night before and now he knew red roses were for romance. And as much as he swore he didn't do romance, he found himself blushing and giddy whenever he looked at the two roses on his table.
On Friday, there was a knock on the door once again and Harry felt fairly sure that a rose would be awaiting him on the doormat, so he didn't hesitate to swing the door open confidently.
But this time Audrey was standing there, arms held behind her back and a sly grin on her face.
"Hello, Harry," she said, and Harry briefly wondered when she found out his name before a wave of dread washed over him. Oh god, was she the one sending roses?
"My boss was a bit worried there might be some miscommunication, so he asked me to hand deliver it this time."
Harry squinted his eyes and she laughed.
"It's Ben, Harry. My boss is Ben."
"Oh," he replied, his eyes flicking behind her towards the flower shop. He couldn't see Ben, but he thought maybe Ben was looking over at him too.
Audrey pulled her hands out from behind her back and presented him with his expected single red rose. This time it was wrapped up in paper and tied with a ribbon, as if it was a tiny bouquet.
Harry let out a small involuntary gasp and Audrey kindly didn't comment on it. He took the bouquet, noticing a small card looped into the ribbon.
"Do ah need t' sign something? Or like, pay ye?"
Audrey just laughed again and patted him on the shoulder with a lot more force than you would expect from her. She said, "Have a good day, Harry," and then she was heading back across the street and into the shop. He watched her go, hoping but also dreading to see a glimpse of Ben through the open door, but all he saw was flowers.
When he headed back in, the shop was suspiciously quiet other than the hum of a tattoo gun. Uma must've said something, as Gil looked like he was about to explode but kept his mouth shut anyway. Harry unwrapped the rose and put it in his water cup, and then finally opened the little card.
'Hope you have a good day! - Ben'
There was a small doodle of their logo on the card too, and just seeing the amature drawing of a pirate ship made Harry's heart pick up. He quickly stashed the card in a drawer so nobody could see it or ask him about it.
Maybe Ben really was serious about this... whatever it was. Flirting? Courting? Harry hadn't experienced the wine and dine treatment in ages and he was at a loss for how to deal with it. Guys like him didn't get guys like Ben, and they especially didn't get romanced with flowers and kind words.
Harry's last boyfriend had used a terrible pick-up line and took him to the alley behind the bar when they first met, and it never got much more romantic from there. Harry didn't know how to do this. He should probably send something back, right? Oh god, he had to send something back. Harry started brainstorming immediately.
Ben was always the first one in the shop, even on days when Audrey or Chad worked the opening shift with him. Even if he wasn't the manager (and borderline owner at this point), he would still want to be there early to enjoy the peaceful morning hours. Ben was a man of routine—waking up at five, coffee at five thirty, and at the shop by six. He never snoozed his alarm, and he lived close enough to the shop that he could walk and not be late. He had a schedule and very little could throw him off his game.
So when he stepped into the shop that Saturday morning, he immediately knew something was off. He looked around the shop and didn't see anything out of place. All the flowers and pre-made bouquets from the day before were in their right places. The paperwork was filed and put away. The blinds opened to the exact level where they would provide ample sunlight but not blind the customers.
But then— there! On the counter was a piece of paper, folded in a way that would make a small triangle shape like a tent.
Ben put his things in the cabinet behind the counter and then picked up the paper. The first thing he noticed was the dandelion resting underneath the paper. It was small with little yellow petals that were already starting to fall off, telling Ben it had been there for a few hours. Someone left it last night?
Then he opened the paper, and he couldn't help but smile. Inside was a beautiful drawing of a pirate ship. It looked exactly like the Sea Three logo, but much more detailed. If he looked closely Ben could see three figures on the ship, sailing it through turbulent seas.
Underneath the ship there was a messy scrawl that read 'Thanks, you too. - Harry'. Next to his name he drew a little pirate hook.
Ben couldn't stop smiling. After many days of debating with himself, ignoring Audrey's secretive glances, and sending flowers with no response, finally there was progress.
The dandelion was already almost dead, but Ben still found a little cup to put it in, hoping that it would at least last until the end of the day so he could maybe dry it or press it. It made him happy to see it all day and it made him wonder if Harry thought it was a flower, or knew it was a weed and still saw the beauty in it. Both options were cute, in his opinion.
The dandelion also made him reconsider his own flower choice. He went with roses because they were a classic, and his parents always talked about them growing up as the traditional romantic flower. But Harry was anything but traditional.
That afternoon he sent Audrey over with a yellow lily, and a note that read, 'Did you break in?! >:( - Ben'. He drew another little doodle of a smiling jellyfish to show he wasn't actually mad and then waited impatiently for Audrey's report.
"Gil answered this time," she said as soon as she walked in.
Ben opened his mouth but then shut it abruptly, embarrassed by his eagerness. (And showing weakness in front of Audrey was a recipe for relentless teasing, in his experience.)
Audrey took pity on him, "Harry was busy with a client but I think I saw a few old roses in his area."
Ben grinned.
"I think," she repeated, but she came over to give a light punch to his upper arm. "You might have some game after all."
"Y'know who really has game? Me!" Chad declared, popping out from behind a display of tulips. Ben rolled his eyes, and tried to tune out Chad and Audrey's bickering. Or, well, Chad's desperate attempts at flirting and Audrey's clear rejections. Some day Chad would realize Audrey was only into women. Maybe. He hoped.
It continued like this for the rest of the month. Harry replied to the lily with another dandelion and a note that said, 'So what if I did? - Harry' with a drawing of the outside of Auradon Flowers.
Ben sent a hyacinth and 'You shouldn't break into innocent businesses! - Ben'
Two dandelions, one yellow and one already white and fluffy. A drawing of an ornate antique key. 'You should get better locks. - Harry'
A peony. 'You should make your deliveries during business hours. - Ben'
A dandelion and a small pile of grass. A drawing of a rabbit munching on a lawn. 'You should make your deliveries yourself. - Harry'
Ben picked out the biggest gardenia they had, and called Harry on his bluff.
"Flower boy's here!" Uma called from the entryway.
Harry was just finishing up a nose piercing and called back, "Just leave it on my table!"
"No, I said flower boy is here," Uma repeated. Harry quickly passed his client on to Gil for payment and aftercare instructions and then tried desperately to fix his messy hair. When Harry turned around and made it to the front, Ben was already inside.
"Hi," Ben said, smiling shyly. He held out the wrapped gardenia. "For you."
Harry instinctually went for the note, and read it out loud, "Your turn. - Ben"
Harry laughed and looked back up at Ben, who was still smiling at him.
"Well ah can't turn down a challenge like tha', now can I?"
Ben shrugged playfully, "You can if you're scared."
Harry's eyes lit up just the way Ben thought they would and he said with a low voice, "Not much 'm scared of."
"You'd be surprised."
"Got a few tricks up yer sleeve?"
"I've been known—"
"Boys!" Uma interrupted, rolling her eyes fondly. "I'd love to watch you flirt all day but Harry has a client in ten minutes."
Ben looked around the shop with a bit of a surprised expression on his face, as if he forgot where they were and what time it was.
"Right! I should get going too," Ben rubbed the back of his neck nervously, much more shy now that he realized there was an audience. "Shop to run and all that."
Ben started backing up towards the door again, unwilling to look away from Harry and the way he looked with the bouquet in his hands. Harry grinned, "Don't be a stranger."
Ben laughed all the way back to the shop.
That night, Uma invited herself to Harry's apartment with a bag of take out and a determined expression. Harry was planning to order out again anyway, so he let her in easily. Free food was worth the conversation Uma was here to have, right?
Maybe not, because Harry was only halfway through his fried rice when Uma set her noodles down and asked, "What are you so afraid of?"
"Wha'?" Harry replied through a mouthful of rice.
Uma grimaced at the display but carried on, "With Ben. Why haven't you asked him out? Or hell, even just took him home. You've been dancing around each other for weeks."
Harry sighed and put his own food down, "You know why."
Uma gave him a sad look and turned to face him on the couch, tucking her legs under her and leaning back against the arm rest. Harry kept himself facing forward, staring blankly at the coffee table full of food boxes.
"Not everyone is like Jay, Harry," Uma said, tone soft and consoling, but even just hearing the name had Harry flinching like he was hit.
His relationship with Jay didn't start out bad, even if they did it in the wrong order. They met and started something and then went through the whole 'getting to know each other' phase. They were surprisingly alike in some ways—both mischievous and rebellious, both guarded with their true emotions, both wickedly attractive and attracted to each other. But as they got closer and Harry revealed more and more about his childhood and past, Jay started pulling away. Harry had assumed Jay didn't want to deal with his baggage, and he was partially right, but even putting on a happy face didn't please Jay after a while.
Harry will never know if Jay's new friends at Core Coffee were the reason they fell apart or something else entirely. But what he does know is that Mal hated Uma with a passion—and by extension, Harry—and even mild-mannered Carlos would dump salt in his coffee if he wasn't looking. The last time Harry came around the cafe, still desperately trying to figure out what went wrong with Jay and be whatever the other man wanted, Jay had all but dragged him out behind the building just like the first time they met and hissed, 'You're too damn much, Harry.'
"He was right," Harry bit out.
Uma immediately fired back, "Jay has never been right about anything in his damn life. Least of all about you."
"How can ye say that?" Harry finally turned to face her, fire in his eyes even as his hands trembled. He wasn't sure if he was angry or scared or something else. "Look a' me. Look around ye."
He gestured to the mess of his apartment—the old soda cans on the table, the dirty dishes, the ripped out pages of his sketchbook taped to the walls depicting skulls and sea animals. All of that contrasted with the alphabetically organized bookshelf, the carefully aligned array of boots at the front door.
Harry continued, "There's somethin' wrong wit me head! We all know it!"
"Harry," Uma said, voice firm. She reached out a hand on the cushion between them but didn't touch him, just leaving the possibility open. "That's not true and you know it. Whatever Jay, or your dad, or whoever said about there being something wrong with you. You do things differently but different isn't wrong, you told me that when we first met."
Harry smiled slightly at the memory.
"You're a loyal friend, a talented artist, a good man. Gil and I know that. Desiree and Gonzo and the whole crew know that. Your sisters and your mom—"
"Don't."
"Fine, I won't," Uma placated. "But Ben knows this too, and he'll never know that you're also a loving partner if you don't give him a shot. A real shot, not just flirting and teasing."
Harry sighed and slumped against the back of the couch, reaching his arm out to brush against Uma's outstretched hand.
"Yer right," he said softly.
"I always am," She smiled at him and squeezed his fingers. Then she straightened up and grabbed her food again. "Now tell me all about your cheesy little gay daydreams about him."
"Uma," Harry whined. He picked up his own food and shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth. "Das offenshive."
"Chew first, you ingrate! And it's not if I say it."
Harry made a big show of chewing and swallowing before saying, "Okay, then after you have to tell me all your little lesbian daydreams about Audrey."
Uma cheeks showed just a hint of color when she shoved him so hard his rice went flying.
"...So that's why I think I came on too strong."
"Um, is this related to my training?"
"Ben, stop," Audrey shoved Ben back towards the counter. "Let me train the new girl, you go be sad somewhere else. Come on, Jane."
Ben sighed. He knew he wasn't operating at full capacity, but it had been a whole week since he told Harry 'your turn' and he hasn't seen the other man since. He was allowed a bit of whining and venting, even if their new hire looked equal parts confused and terrified as he did it. What good was being the boss if he couldn't do at least that?
God, he was starting to sound like his father.
Ben shuddered and tried to throw himself into making the arrangements for a birthday party that weekend. He focused on picking the right flowers to match the customer's theme and coordinating the vases to go along with it. He was so focused that when the bell over the door chimed, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Welcome to Auradon Flowers, how can I help—" Ben started automatically, before he even looked up, but stopped when he saw Harry hesitating in the doorway. In his hands was what looked like a tiny bouquet of dandelions and other weeds. There was even a flower that looked like it was stolen from the garden boxes out front.
Ben couldn't stop the grin from coming as he moved to where Harry was standing and said, "Is that for me? It is your turn after all."
Harry looked down at the 'bouquet' and the folded paper clutched in his hands. He paused for just a moment, seemingly gathering his confidence and muttering something to himself that sounded like 'not like him'.
"These are for you," he declared, holding out his hands towards Ben. Ben walked back to the counter to put the makeshift bouquet in the small cup he put all of Harry's 'flowers' in. When he turned back, Harry was still in the doorway looking like he wanted to follow.
"Harry," Ben said softly and that seemed to do it, Harry almost running over to where Ben stood. Ben went to unfold the paper but Harry stopped him with a hand over his.
"It's not tha' good," he warned. His hand was warm on Ben's.
Ben laughed, "Harry you're an amazing artist. And I think I'm the expert given all the pictures from you I have on my walls. Your art is great."
Harry frowned, his whole face scrunching up in such clear confusion that it made Ben giggle. He looked so cute.
"You kept all of 'em?" He asked, as if the mere idea was ridiculous.
"Of course I did," Ben replied, turning his hand around so that his palm touched Harry's. "They were from you. They could've been stick figures and I would've kept them."
Harry's fingers twitched.
"Maybe you can come see them sometime?"
"Just— Look at tha' first and then decide if ye wanna ask me tha'."
Ben looked down at the paper again and unfolded it, gasping at what he saw. Inside was an incredibly realistic portrait of himself. He was looking to the side slightly, and laughing at what he saw. Underneath the picture Harry had written 'Do you want to go on a date? [ ] Yes [ ] No.'
Ben wanted to laugh but instead he gave a watery smile and said with a trembling voice, "Harry."
And that was all the answer Harry needed. Within seconds he closed the distance between them, putting one hand on Ben's cheek to pull him into a soft kiss. Harry was so gentle and Ben's heart raced at finally knowing what it was like to kiss this confusing and delightful man. It was over quickly, but Ben kept his eyes closed for a second longer before opening them again.
"So is tha' a yes or," Harry started, laughing when Ben smacked his shoulder. When did his hands even get up there?
"I can't believe you did the middle school 'check yes or no' thing."
"I can't believe you invited me to yer house!"
"I—" Ben started, ready to deny it when he thought for a moment. "I guess I sorta did, huh?"
"God, you're incredible," Harry laughed, wrapping Ben in a tight hug. Ben let himself be pulled in tight and laughed too, feeling like a flower finally blooming.