#eremike

“That’s the last bunch”, Eren said, placing a container full of roses on the shelf. He regarded his work, wiping his hands on the apron. Behind him, Mike made a noncommittal sound, and Eren´s heart sank. Mike had never been much of a talker, but lately he was even more uncommunicative than usual, and frankly it was eating at Eren.

They were together for more than two years now, and opened their flower shop about a year ago. Many friends had doubted that the odd couple would last very long, especially since running a business meant that they spent more or less 24 hours a day together. Eren was lively, loud, energetic and enthusiastic, while Mike was quiet, thoughtful and withdrawn. Instead, they complimented each other beautifully. Mike grounded Eren, helped him keep his temper in check, while Eren pulled Mike out of his shell.

Eren had never thought their communication was missing anything, not with how much the quiet blond could convey with a small smile, a gentle touch of his hands.

And with flowers.

Mike was an incurable romantic at heart who still knew and believed in the language of flowers, and what he couldn´t tell his boyfriend in words he said in bright, cheery bouquets that he placed all over their apartment.

Lilies. White carnations. Sweet william. Striped tulips. Yellow roses. Ranunculus. Red chrysanthemum. Tuberose when he was in a teasing mood.

Towards clients, Mike was adamantly friendly and polite, but sometimes he couldn’t resist hiding little messages in their bouquets when they pissed him off. Delphinium and sunflowers, hortensia and wolfsbane looked innocent enough, but basically people carried home a pretty “fuck you”. Eren always had to dive into the storage room and bite his cheeks when Mike bound one of those fashionable insults with an expressionless face.

But lately something had been bothering Mike. He was even more withdrawn and broody than normal, and often Eren felt his thoughtful gaze that was quickly averted when he looked up. First, he tried to brush the feeling off, but now he started panicking that something was really off.

Determined like always, Eren decided to take the bull by the horns. They had arrived at the shop early for deliveries and working on orders and wouldn’t open for another few hours. Plenty of time to talk. Take it slow, he told himself as he took some calming breaths. Don’t get hysterical, it’s probably nothing. We’re happy together, aren’t we?

He moved over to the work table where Mike was already busying himself with the day’s orders and looked over the list. A number of arrangements for an anniversary had to be done, callas, lilies and pink roses.  For a while, he silently placed the blossoms in flower sponge. Normally, working side by side without saying much didn’t faze him. Today, it seemed to weigh him down and press the air out of his lungs.

“Mike”, he started quietly, hating the quiver in his voice. “Is there something bothering you?”

The blond spared him a curious glance. “Not at all. Why?” Maybe it was just his imagination, but Eren thought he heard a hint of wariness.

“Because. Um. You speak even less than normal. And it feels like you’re brooding over something. And. And I´ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don´t notice. As if you’re considering something. Is it… are you fed up? I mean I know I’m loud and obnoxious, and I always drag you out for something, and if you want some more peace I can understand, and it´s okay if you need more alone time, all you have to do is ask, but if it's… if it’s something more, can you please tell me, because it’s killing me, and I’m terrified you don’t love me anymore, or I get on your nerves, and… oh fuck, Mike, please don’t leave me.”

Eren was horrified that all of this just tumbled out of his mouth willy-nilly, and he was even more horrified by the tears that started to run down his face. This was exactly how he had not intended the conversation to go. Somewhere mid-ramble his hands had clenched around the rosebuds, and the thorns dug painfully into his skin.

Mike had gone paperwhite. He dropped the clippers and bouquet he had been holding and swept Eren into a crushing embrace. “Eren, please no. Stop crying. It’s not like you think at all. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. More than ever. Don’t ever think I could leave you, or grow tired of you.” He cradled the crying brunet in his arms, smoothed over his hair, kissed the tears from his cheeks until eventually they ended flowing.

Eren leaned against Mike’s chest and hugged him back, caught between relief and embarrassment. “You promise it’s all good?”

“Hm-hm”, Mike hummed and kissed the top of his head. “I´m sorry I made you worry. I didn’t even realize I was showing…” He bit his lip.

“Showing what, Mike? Can you please finally tell me what the fuck is up here?” Eren sounded exasperated and tired.

Mike released his arms and directed Eren to a stool next to the work table. He looked a little sheepish. “Okay. I will tell you. Um… just a minute, okay?” Then he turned around and rummaged in the assorted flower containers.

Eren was stunned. Was Mike really going to let him stew here and tend to his work first? What the fuck? Plus whatever he was doing there… it looked terrible. His hands trembled, and he kept dropping stems, ripped off leaves and nearly fell over a bucket full of ferns. Finally he managed to assemble something that looked like a child might have grabbed it from the neighbour’s garden, and shoved it into Eren’s hands with an anxious look.

Puzzled, Eren looked down.

Stephanotis. Ivy. Orange blossom. Peach blossom. Red columbine. Heliotrope.

He summoned what he knew about flower language, and then realization struck him.

Oh.

Mike still looked terribly nervous, fingers fiddling with his apron, and Eren had to bite back a smirk. Mike was never nervous, never flustered, and the sight was so endearing he could have watched for hours. Instead, Eren got up and ambled along the shelves stacked with flowers. His fingers danced along a bunch of yellow carnations, and he heard a sharp intake of air behind his back. He chuckled and slid into the storage room, quickly spotting what he was looking for. Struggling to keep a straight face, he returned with a potted red geranium.

Mike looked at the plant, then his eyes snapped up to Eren’s face. A smile, radiant like the sun, spread on his face, and their kiss tasted like greens and rain and life.

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