Solangelo One Shots

Pollink

Two|Will

    "That's fucking sick, man." I comment.

    "Shit, really?" James quizzes. He's my thirty-some-odd costomer.

    "Yeah. Your girlfriend will love it."

    Okay, I'm totally lying. I had just tattooed a very large 'DEBORAH' on this man's ass and frankly, it was disgusting. Should time come for Deborah to see it, I hope she isn't repulsed by the smell of James. I can only pray for the fate of 'Ann' and 'Cindy'.

    "Awesome. Thanks dude." says James gratefully. I wrap it for him, he pulls up his pants and smirks. "What's the damage?"

    "Three hundred. Just come to the register." I reply. After James hands me the money I watch him leave and hold in a sigh.

    One hour. One hour left and I can shut down the shop. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but I also love being at home. I find myself fantasizing about the pillows on my bed and the chips in my room... until a shuffling outside snaps me out of it. The door squeaks, the bell clanks and a new person walks in. This one is shorter than me, and probably younger too. Their mussed hair is black with clothes to match, save his pastel work apron. Their olive face reminded me of the Italian woman I sometimes worked for."You need something?"

    "Yeah, kind of." they say, walking towards me and placing a beautiful drawing of a poppy and a peony onto my counter. The flowers are entangled with one another, withered leaves drooping slightly. "Could you do this for me?" he asks.

    "Yes. Yeah, sure." I said immediately, pulling my gaze away from it. "I just need to draw up a quote." I pulled out a paper and began filling it out. "Does it symbolize something? I mean, no offense but most people like you don't want flowers tattooed on them."

    "Really?" they replied, one eyebrow raised and sarcasm practically oozing. I look up at them skeptically. Their face reddens slightly, then they give me a better answer. "Remembrance and healing."

    "Huh?"

    They rolls their eyes. "That's what the flowers stand for. The poppy is remembering, obviously. The peony is healing. I just- I've lost a few people and I wanted a reminder..."

    I nodded. That I could understand. "Where do you want it? Er - the tattoo I mean." Now it's my turn to blush. Which is ridiculous. I am a grown ass man.

    My new customer looked as if they were holding back a laugh when they pointed to his forearm. "The stems," they start, trailing their finger downwards to their hand. "here. And the flowers," they tap their wrist. "here."

    "Nice. That will look really good. Great spot for it too." I say, nodding. "Will it be your first time getting a tat?" I questioned, looking them up and down. His visible skin was bare and milky white. My arms looked odd in comparison to his, with the ink coloring most of my deeply tanned skin. And, I notice, (for the first time, somehow) that they're kind of cute.

    I turn back to my quote form. There was only one thing left to fill in. "Name and pronouns?" I ask, realising I didn't know yet.

    A hint of a smile plays on his lips. "Nico. He/him." he answers, voice light. I laugh in a friendly manner.

    "All right Nico," I said, tasting his name on my lips. I decide I like it. "you just need to sign here. I'll have your quote for you in a couple days." Then I slide the paper and pen to him from across the counter. I stay focused on his face as he signs. He looks up and I move around the register to shake his hand before he leaves. We shook. I smiled. Then he turns away. "See you, Nico."

    "Thanks," he pauses, glancing down at my shirt. "Will." he finshed. By the time he opens the door I can't stand it anymore.

    "Hey, Nico!"

    He turned to face me at a speed unknown to man. "Yeah, Will?"

    "Where can I find you?"

    "The flower shop down the road. Work hours." Then he winked. He fucking winked and disappeared behind door.

    I looked down and shook my head, laughing. My smile doesn't fade as I turn to the register and look down at the quote. Upon further inspection, I notice seven large digits sprawled across the bottom. "That sly buggar."

*three months later*

    I was so fucking done with his shit. My cousin, Octavian, was one hell of an ass hat. He not only expected me to organize his family reunion, but to pick a damn flower arrangement? I'm not even invited! I walk fiercely into Fiori della Luna and slap my money on the counter.

    Nico looks up from his book, clearly surprised. "Will? You're here early."

    "How do you say 'Fuck you' passive aggressively in flower?"

    Nico just smirks and pulls off his glasses, moving to his selection of vases and picking a nice tall one. I watch him in surprise. I won't lie, I expected a little more... resistance. Nico sees my expression and lets on an amused smile.

    "Octavian, yeah?" he says. I can't believe he was so quick to interpret. I sit down on a chair by the till. My hand passes through my hair as he bustles about the shop.

    "Yeah..."

    Nico plucks flowers from bins three at a time, then finally brings them all back to the counter. "Here," he says, laying his selection down. He points to each type of flower as he speaks. "Geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity, don't touch that one it's poisonous!" I pull my hand back. "Meadowsweet for uselessness, yellow carnations for 'you have disspointed me', and orange lillies for hatred."

    I get up to stand behind him, grinning like an idiot. I begin hugging his midriff as he works. My head rests on his. "You, love, can work miracles." I say. I can't see his face, but I imagine he's smiling. He looks so beautiful when he smiles. We stand in a comfortable silence while he arranges the bouquet. Finally, he wraps it all up in white cloth and places it into the vase. I lean down and kiss his neck, more relaxed than I've been in weeks.

NOT MY ART