#comethedaylight

[manycoloureddays]

under the stars / relief

for @comethedaylight 💜

“Ugh I can’t wait to go home and take the world’s longest shower,” Robin says, picking at the congealed monster blood drying on her skin. “I think I might also be vegetarian now.”

Steve laughs, tips his head back too and beams at the stars. The sky is clear now. For the first time in months, the sky is clear of the Upside Down.

“Actually,” she says. “I can’t wait to go home and use your shower. The water pressure is so much better at your place.”

Steve elbows her. “Tomay-to, tomah-to. My house is your house.”

“Uh, don’t you mean ‘mi casa es su casa’?” Mike asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, grabs Mike around the neck and ruffles his hair. “Similar sentiment, but not what I meant.”

“Ow, getoffme,” Mike grouches, all the while trying to pull the back of Steve’s shirt over his head.

It’s nice to be messing around. They’re bubbling with excitement, they have nothing to worry about anymore. It’s the best high Steve has ever experienced.

They crest the hill, heading back to the prearranged meeting place. It’s where Eddie, Argyle, Dustin, Max, Dmitri, and Erica were stationed, defending one of the big gates at the edge of town.

Steve’s eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be, too many hits to the head and not enough time to get his prescription updated, but even at this distance a quick headcount of the figures on the hill leaves him one short of happy.

His heart drops to the very pit of his stomach. Further even. The scene in front of him is so familiar and he can’t. This can’t be happening again.

“No.”

He takes off at a run.

“Steve!” Robin calls after him.

He can hear her running behind him. Feels guilty for making her run on her bad leg, but he can’t stop, he needs to see, needs to make sure. Because it hurt enough the first time. He can’t do this again.

All that blood, and Steve had still tried to fix it. Sometimes he wakes up breathing like he’s giving CPR.

And he’s seen this before. Dustin on the ground curled over a body, curled over –

Steve’s heart has slingshot back up to his throat.

Steve had heard the sobbing before he’d seen them last time. This time there’s just a lot of loud noise.

Eddie had promised. He’d promised last time too, but it meant more this time. They’d got him back. El had brought him back and he’d been so clear, he wasn’t going to waste his second chance.

Steve hadn’t wanted to split up, but the only way the plan worked was for them to break up into teams. God, Steve is kicking himself for not doing more, being here, anything to stop this from happening twice, he wishes he’d…

Wait.

Dustin is curled over Eddie on the ground, that much is true, but both bodies are heaving with laughter. Laughter that sounds a little manic and high pitched for both of them, threaded through with adrenaline and relief, but laughter all the same.

Steve’s knees go out from under him and he collapses on the ground next to them, wheezing slightly from the run.

They both turn to him, their smiles huge and bright and exactly what Steve needs.

“Steve!”

“Stevie!”

Before he can respond, he’s being pulled into their tangle of limbs, landing with a huff on top of Eddie, with Dustin snorting loudly in his ear.

They’re quickly joined by most of the others. Robin flops down on his back, Lucas, Mike and Will are a heap of wriggling limbs down by his feet, Dustin and Max are shouting in his ear, Erica sits cross legged at his head, and Eddie’s heart is under his ear, beating, beating, beating a steady rhythm.

A walkie crackles to life. El’s voice comes through loud and clear. “We are all safe. The gates are closed. We are coming home. Over.”

There are whoops of joy all around them. Jonathan and Argyle flop down to the ground beside the EddieSteveRobin stack and Steve watches as the realisation that it’s over, finally over, washes over Jonathan.

“Fuck,” Jonathan says, dragging a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Robin says. “Fuck.”

She wriggles around to talk to them properly, and the movement sends Steve sliding off Eddie, gravity pulling him towards the grass.

Eddie pulls him back, arm wrapped tight around his back. Steve takes a deep breath, coming back to himself. Eddie is here, alive, warm and laughing underneath him. All the people he loves are safe, alive, breathing. Steve can hardly feel his toes.

The fear is leaching out of him. It doesn’t stand a chance when he can feel the dual heartbeats of Robin and Eddie at his chest and back.

“You alright there, Stevie baby?” Eddie asks, soft, just for him. And Robin, who is lying cheek to cheek with him, but she’s tactful enough that she’s pretending to be completely engaged by Jonathan and Argyle’s conversation.

Steve hides his face in Eddie’s neck, noses in real close and feels further proof of life.

“I saw you on the ground again. Panicked.”

He knows Eddie will fill in the blanks, and now he’s here, he doesn’t think he has the energy for much more. It’s been a long year. It’s been a long few years. Steve is tired right down to his core. Like even his arteries are tired of moving blood around his body, and his stomach is tired of breaking down food. It’s a wonder his hair is still growing.

Eddie is quiet for a moment, but the arm across Steve’s back curls tighter. His hand, resting on Steve’s hip, squeezes, and Steve takes a deep, steadying breath. It trips a little in his chest, but he doesn’t start crying. Thank God. Or whatever monster controls the universe.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, eventually, his voice heavy with emotion. “I didn’t think about what it would look like.”

Steve shakes his head, and lets his weight drop even further, his face completely mashed into the nook between Eddie’s neck and collarbone. His lips drag across Eddie’s skin when he says, “Not your fault. Just felt … crazy. For a moment.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. His fingers tracing the outline of one of Steve’s scars. “I can imagine.”

He starts scratching up and down Steve’s side. It rucks his shirt up a little, sets his skin alight. Steve feels tingly. He feels hopeful. Really hopeful for the first time in too fucking long.

“Couldn’t lose you. Not again.”

Eddie turns his face just a little, presses a dry kiss to Steve’s forehead, just below his hairline.

“Yeah, I know exactly how that feels actually. I don’t think I’ve ever been as relieved as I was when I saw you running towards us.”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

He thinks about all the ways today could have gone wrong. Thinks about all the ways things nearly went wrong every day for the last year. He never wants to do this again. Never wants to have to wonder or worry that the people he loves might not come home.

He doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline, or the what ifs, or the pure fucking relief of a war over and the steadying presence of the heartbeat underneath his hand, but he thinks fuck it.

He shimmies his shoulders and Robin rolls off his back onto the grass beside him with a little oof.

“The fuck was that for?” she demands, pinching his thigh.

She glares at him until he manages to silently communicate that he’s definitely thought fuck it for long enough that he’s determined now and he’s going to do what he’s been putting off basically every day since Eddie got back. Once that’s been cleared up, Robin shakes her head, winks at him and rolls over to drag Max and Dustin into a cuddle pile instead.

Steve props himself up, hands either side of Eddie’s face, and looks down at him. He really is stupidly pretty. He pushes some of the fly away hairs out of Eddie’s eyes, tucks them behind his ear and then leaves his hand there, sort of cupping Eddie’s cheek. Rubs his thumb under his eye.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, a little breathless.

“Mmm,” Steve murmurs, brushing their noses together.

Eddie is almost cross eyed, trying to keep looking at Steve. It’s so fucking cute.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Unless you have any objections,” Steve whispers, “I’m going to kiss you.”. Their mouths are so close they’re practically kissing with each word already.

Eddie makes a strangled little noise in the back of his throat. His eyes bug wide. He looks a little overwhelmed, and Steve almost pulls back, except he’s nodding. He’s nodding frantically.

“Yeah, please, yeah,” Eddie says in a rush, blush spreading from his cheeks, down his neck and into the jacket that Steve made damn sure he’d done all the way up this time.

And one day soon, maybe even tonight, Steve is going to have a conversation with Eddie about the hope burning in his chest that he can see mirrored in Eddie’s eyes. They’ll talk about what comes next and what they’ve been keeping tucked away in their minds.

But that’s for future Steve and future Eddie.

He closes the tiny gap between them, slots their lips together, and finally, finally, kisses Eddie.

It’s not the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming about giving Eddie. Not deep and wet and a little bit dirty. He can’t kiss him like he wants to climb inside him, can’t lick inside his mouth and suck on his tongue until they can both feel it in their toes, because they are lying on the ground surrounded by their friends, their family. So Steve can’t kiss Eddie like he’s been wanting to, but he does kiss him like he’s never going to stop.

He never wants to stop.

Eddie is making the sweetest noises and his hand is tangled in Steve’s hair and he’s kissing Steve like he’s planning on stealing the air from his lungs.

Steve sucks Eddie’s bottom lip into his mouth, bites down gently, then bites down a little harder when Eddie seems into it. He can’t help but lick into Eddie’s mouth, trying to get as close as he can, as much as he can, before everyone notices what he’s doing.

Eddie moans, a quiet little thing, but it’s enough.

“What the –! Are you two making out right now?” Dustin yells, incredulous and dramatic and a little bit bitchy.

Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth, tastes Eddie’s laughter.

“What’s it to ya, Henderson?” Eddie asks, still holding Steve close.

With Eddie distracted, Steve moves to pressing little kisses along his jaw, down his neck, dotted across any part of his face that Steve can reach. He can’t help himself.

“What’s it to me? What’s it TO ME?” Dustin’s voice is reaching megaphone levels of yelling, and it’s happening right next to them. “I don’t care what you get up to when you’re more than a foot away from me but you’re practically in my lap and EDDIE STOP.”

The last part is yelled directly into Steve’s ear after Eddie licks a finger and tries to stick it in Dustin’s ear.

The chaos that follows is so much happier than the chaos they’ve been living with that Steve can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed when Eddie moves out from under him to chase Dustin around the hilltop. Especially because, before he leaves, he kisses Steve again. Once, twice, three times, both of them grinning too much for them to be anything more than short and sweet.

Robin rolls back into Steve’s side. He laces his fingers with hers, snuggles into her side.

“I’m happy for you, babe,” she says.

And Steve is happy too.

[wordsofhoneydew]

🌟 fic rec friday 🌟

9:42, nyu apartment by @cricketnationrise

If you’d told Alex ten years ago that he’d love being pinned to his own couch and kissed to within an inch of his life by Henry fucking Fox, he’d have laughed in your face.

on my knees (i’m aphrodite) by luisasfalsegod

“Baby, we gotta start getting ready for dinner. Ma’ is gonna kill me if I‘m not on time.” June murmurs.

“Tell me to stop and I will” Nora rasps.

June shivers, goosebumps rising on her skin. “Something tells me you don’t want me to” Nora smiles as she cocks her head.

“Oh my god” June whines.

Nora unhooks her bra, pulling it off June‘s body impatiently. She ghosts a hot breath across June‘s skin, delighting in the fact that her nipples are turning harder by the second.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Nora asks, looking up at June with serious eyes.

Or the one where June and Nora are forced to attend a state dinner at the White House when all they wanna do is fuck

You’re Gonna Go Far by @inexplicablymine

He would let the rich pavement and wide open highways take him home. Texas bluebonnet wild, cicada strong, sideways pampas grass floating freeways situated between wildfire season and the inevitable downpour of hail that tramples Mother Nature's roadside finger paintings.

But he fucking can’t.

Because New York City doesn’t have cicadas; it has cockroaches.

He can’t take the key around his neck and let it be a homing device—protective shield across his heart when he’s run out of air and the gas tank goes low.

Or, After the dust settles and the Brownstone becomes home, it should all be okay. So why does it all still feel so hard?

Is it casual now? by ncfariouvs

There are a couple things in this world that are absolutely unbearable for Alex.

The sound of her parents fighting, for one. She still remembers it, the yelling, that is. It was always so loud that even headphones couldn’t cancel out the noise.

Another thing she cannot fucking stand is when people don’t know how to make good coffee. It’s not that fucking hard.

Thirdly, people not letting her explain herself. She fucking hates being blamed for things that she didn’t do without having the chance to defend herself.

There are a couple more extreme ones, such as racists, bigots, and outright assholes…

But one thing she can’t fucking stand at this particular moment is the snobby, blonde, British girl in her English class who always has her nose stuck in a fucking book.

Henri fucking Fox.

no control (all yours) by @comethedaylight

Alex feels the first twinge in his bladder as he’s moving to the fridge to grab the water pitcher, an ache that’s sharp at first, but settles into something manageable, something almost… exciting. Like a buzz under his skin that he wants to ride out, like a high.

He’s been at this point before, after one too many coffees during late night study sessions in undergrad, too distracted by his readings to take a break, but the difference between then and now is he would just cut his losses. He’d feel that first ache and get up, bookmark his spot and nip it in the bud, but that’s not the plan tonight.

Tonight, he refills his bottle, lays back on the couch, and turns to his phone.

or alex learns something about himself while trying to learn more about his husband

no bunny compares to you by winterpine

Henry is a lot of things as a person and while much of his personality transfers over to his bunny form, his physical attributes do not. Most notably, his size.

Where Alex’s boyfriend stands tall and regal, his furry counterpart is small and fluffy, unable to summit even the most minor of obstacles.

Take their sofa, for one. Alex is watching TV and minding his own business, when he hears a steady thump from just below him. Peering over the edge of the dark cushion, he spots his boyfriend angrily pounding his back foot against the carpet.

“Ha! Is my little bun too tiny to get up here on his own?” Alex teases. He’s promptly rewarded with a whisker twitch followed by a nose scrunch. Henry is pouting and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

or, five times Henry shapeshifts for himself and one time he does it for Alex

never wanna stop (‘cause your taste is so divine) by strawbgrl

Henry grins in contentment and rakes his fingernails along the backs of Alex’s thighs. “There’s my good boy,” he praises. Alex muffles a whine into the bend of his elbow and Henry watches in astonishment as he relaxes against the mattress. The verbal approval settles deep in Alex’s bones. “I knew you hadn’t forgotten your manners. You just needed a bit of a reminder. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Henry gives, and Alex takes.

l’échappatoire by @anincompletelist

A sea of dark curls. Warm, kind eyes. A slanted, smiling mouth, a dimple carved into the side. One hand holding a tall, steaming coffee, the other a mug full of Henry’s favorite tea. A whisper, a brush of fingertips in the trade off. The more important details.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

It’d be something out of Henry’s most treasured fantasies if he didn’t already know they’d be the last words this man ever says.

Henry fixes anomalies in other people's timelines. It's quite predictable and impersonal work for the most part. (Save for when it seems intent on unraveling his own, of course.)

Don’t Let Them Eat Cake by Magentarivers

Something shifted in the breath between them.

"Are you going to say something sappy?”

“Maybe.” Henry grinned tightly, as though caught red handed.

“Okay good, because me too. You go first.”

It's the night after their anniversary party, and the boys just want to do what any husbands want to do. Unfortunately they are parents first.

I’ll Wait for your Love (1 day before the Reddit Post) by Swoonoveryou

Alex sends Henry flowers for their friendship anniversary. What does this mean? After all these signs, does this mean Alex could actually like him?

He thinks maybe asking the internet might help.

Vegas, Baby by @porcelainmortal

“Hold on, Nora. I need some luck.” Alex holds out his hand, a pair of dice cradled in his palm. “Blow for luck?” He winks and throws Henry a devastatingly gorgeous smile.

Henry’s breath catches in his throat but he manages to inhale sharply before blowing on the dice in Alex’s hand. Alex’s pupils dilate as his eyes are drawn to Henry’s lips. Henry feels as if time has stopped, but he can hear the people at the table still talking and the bells of the machines going off around them. Nora nudges Alex with her elbow, seeming to break the spell Henry and Alex have been under. Alex’s attention is ripped away and he turns, throwing the dice down the middle of the table.

OR, Alex & Henry meet in Vegas, get drunk, and get married. Woops.

[sophie1973]

Petals and Pages

A little birthday for my darling RJ @comethedaylight

It’s a quiet Thursday afternoon, and there’s no one in the bookstore. Schools are set to release soon, and it will be pretty busy again for an hour or two. So Henry takes this opportunity to do some paperwork.

The bell above the door chimes softly as Henry looks up from his inventory list, his heart skipping a beat when he sees Alex walk in. The florist's arms are laden with a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, daisies, and lilies, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air and filling the cozy bookstore.

"Hey, Henry!" Alex calls out cheerfully, a warm smile lighting up his face. "I thought I'd bring over another bouquet since you told me you enjoyed the first one I got you."

Henry's cheeks flush as he stands up, brushing imaginary dust from his cardigan. He's been smitten with Alex since the florist started setting up shop across the street, but he hasn't worked up the courage to do more than exchange polite greetings.

"That's... that's so thoughtful of you, Alex; you really don’t have to do that." Henry manages, his eyes watering slightly as Alex approaches the counter and deposits the vase. He can feel his nose beginning to itch.

Alex beams at him, clearly proud of his creation. "I hope you like them. I chose colors that I thought would brighten up the place."

“They’re beautiful,” Henry agrees, because they are, and the last thing he wants is to see the smile vanish from Alex’s handsome face, should he discover Henry’s little secret.

The store in front of Henry’s bookshop has stood vacant for as long as Henry can remember. Recently, however, it sprang to life as a charming flower shop owned by one Alex Claremont-Diaz.

While this could be seen as a very unimportant event, it actually created a seismic shift in Henry’s life for the following reasons :

Reason nr 1: Alex Claremont-Diaz is the most beautiful man Henry has ever seen in his life

Reason nr 2: Despite his reputation as an eloquent and articulate individual—boasting an Oxford degree in English literature, a self-published anthology of poetry, and a collection of popular fanfictions on AO3—Henry's usual verbal prowess abandons him in Alex's presence, reducing him to a flustered, stammering mess.

Reason nr 3: In a gesture of neighborly goodwill, Alex recently paid Henry a visit, introducing himself and presenting an impressively large bouquet.

Reason nr 4: Unbeknownst to Alex, Henry has a severe flower allergy.

Reason nr 5: Alex is the most beautiful man…oh wait, no, he already mentioned that.

(It bears repeating, though.)

“Where do you want them?” Alex asks.

Henry gestures towards the bookshelves near the front window, surreptitiously holding his breath. "Over there, so customers can admire it upon entering," he manages, his voice slightly strained. Fortunately, Alex doesn’t seem to notice. 

With the bouquet now a safe distance away, Henry feels marginally better and even a bit bolder, and he surprises himself with the words that come out of his mouth.

“I was about to prepare some tea…Do you have time for a cup or maybe some coffee?”

And wow, he didn’t even stutter. Progress.

Is that a faint blush creeping on Alex’s cheek? What is obvious, though, is the look of deep regret crossing his face. "I'm afraid I can't at the moment. I'm alone in the shop, but... raincheck?" he asks, his voice tinged with hope.

In that instant, Henry realizes he'll never be capable of denying this man anything. Ever.

Even if it means concealing a corpse or using his bookstore as a front for a Colombian drug cartel.

Well, perhaps not that last one. He does have some standards, after all.

Over the next few weeks, Alex continues his floral visits, each time bringing a different arrangement to brighten up the bookstore. Henry's allergies worsen with each bouquet, but he can't bring himself to tell Alex the truth. Because now, when Alex stops by, he always has a cup of coffee while Henry has his tea, and they talk. 

Their conversations reveal a surprising wealth of common ground, time slipping away as they get into passionate discussions. On occasion, Alex's sister, June, has to intervene, gently reminding her brother of his duties. Henry loves these interactions, even if they leave him a wheezing, sneezing mess once Alex leaves.

He’s been gathering his courage to finally ask Alex if they could have a drink together outside of opening hours or, even better, dinner.

But the thing is, even though Alex is charming and lovely and even a bit of a flirt (his casual use of "sweetheart" nearly caused Henry to swoon), Henry has no idea if this could go beyond the friendly shop owners slash neighbours slash sort of friends thing. 

For all he knows, Alex is terminally straight.

And he hasn’t exactly flaunted his gayness in front of Alex, either. However, he hopes the pride flag prominently displayed behind the counter and the extensive collection of queer literature might have provided some not-so-subtle hints.

The following Monday, it is dahlias. Wednesday brings tulips. By Friday, Henry's eyes are perpetually red and puffy, his nose raw from constant tissue use. Still, he smiles through watery eyes each time Alex appears.

Alex frowns, noticing Henry's condition. "Henry, are you feeling ok, sweetheart? You look a bit under the weather."

Henry waves dismissively, trying to stifle a sneeze. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit of a cold, I think."

He can feel Bea’s eyes drilling a hole in his skull from behind the counter.

The moment Alex's retreating form disappears beyond the door, Bea materializes at Henry's side, her expression a perfect blend of exasperation and concern.

"How long do you intend to maintain this ridiculous charade?" she demands, her tone brooking no argument.

Henry's shoulders slump in defeat.“I have no idea,” he replies honestly. “As long as the antihistamines are doing their job?”

"Has it occurred to you to simply tell him the truth and ask him out? You know, like a functioning adult?"

Henry winces, the suggestion hitting a raw nerve. "It's been weeks, Bea. I'm terrified he'll be furious and stop visiting altogether. Besides, I've no clue if he's even remotely interested in me that way. If he were, surely he'd have made a move by now."

"Unless," Bea quips, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "he's every bit a bloody idiot as you are."

Henry shoots her a withering glare. “Thank you for your overwhelming support.”

Their bickering is interrupted by movement across the street. Henry's gaze is drawn to Alex's flower shop, where the man himself is visible through the window, arranging a vibrant display. As if sensing Henry's attention, Alex looks up, catching his eye and offering a warm, radiant smile and a cheerful wave.

Henry's heart performs an Olympic-worthy gymnastics routine in his chest, a besotted grin spreading across his face. He raises his hand to reciprocate the greeting, but the gesture is unceremoniously interrupted by a violent sneeze that nearly topples him. Regaining his balance, he emits a pitiful whine, a perfect blend of lovestruck adoration and allergy-induced misery.

Bea observes this display with a mix of fondness and sisterly irritation.

“Idiots,” she mutters as she goes back behind the counters. “Both of them.”

                                                            💐🌹🌺🌷

The bell above the door chimes as Alex enters, cradling an exquisite bouquet of pink carnations, primroses, and jonquils. (Henry didn’t have extensive knowledge about flowers, especially since they were mortal enemies, but since he met Alex, he might have done some research to have at least a basic understanding of them.)

The fragrance hits Henry like a tidal wave, and he feels a sudden twinge of panic.

Henry opens his mouth to speak, but his nose twitches violently. His eyes widen in alarm as he feels the telltale tickle building rapidly. Too rapidly.

"Alex, thank y-" Henry's words are cut short as an explosive sneeze erupts. He barely has time to cover his face before another follows and then another. His eyes begin to water and redden as the sneezing fit continues. Between gasps and sneezes, Henry manages to sputter out fragmented words.

"I'm sorry, Alex…Can you gi…give me one…minute?"

Alex's face contorts with worry, his brow furrowing deeply. He quickly sets the flowers aside and rushes to Henry's side, his hand hovering with uncertainty near Henry's shoulder.

"What's going on? I've never seen you like this. Are you still having this cold?" Alex's voice is thick with concern, his eyes searching Henry's face for answers.

Henry tries to reassure him, but it's futile; he can barely catch his breath. The sneezes keep coming, each one more forceful than the last. Alex's worry seems to intensify, his hands now fidgeting at his sides, unsure how to help.

Between two sneezes, Henry realizes it's time to come clean. He obviously can't keep going on like this. His sneezing fit finally subsides, and he looks at Alex, his eyes red and watery. "We need to talk," he tells him and judging by Alex's face – a mixture of confusion and apprehension – his tone was a bit too ominous.

With a shaky hand, Henry puts the 'closed' sign on the front door before leading Alex to the office in the back. Alex follows silently, his posture tense with unspoken questions.

"Can you wait here a moment? I'll be back shortly," Henry says, his voice hoarse.

Alex nods, his eyes never leaving Henry's face. 

Henry washes his hands and blows his nose in the bathroom, using his nasal spray and eye drops. He stares at his reflection – red-nosed, puffy-eyed, and messy. He can't believe he's about to confess his crush to Alex looking like this. He supposes this is payback for having lied to that kind, generous, wonderful man all these weeks.

Taking a deep breath, Henry steels himself for the conversation ahead. It's time to face the music.

"Henry, what's going on?" Alex asks as soon as he's back, his voice laced with concern and a hint of impatience.

Henry sighs. "I'm so sorry, Alex. I haven't been honest with you. I... I'm allergic to flowers."

Alex frowns. "Which flowers?"

Henry winces, his voice barely above a whisper. "All of them?"

There's a moment of stunned silence, Alex's face a picture of disbelief. Then, he opens his mouth, his voice rising with each word. "What the fuck, Henry? What the actual fuck? Hen? I've been bringing you flowers for weeks?!?"

"I know, but the thing is..." Henry takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "Your visits were the highlight of my day. And I love flowers, and it is worse with some than others, and as long as I stay at a respectable distance, it's alright. But I like you, Alex, a lot, and I can't keep hiding this from you. I'm terribly sorry for not telling you; it was a stupid thing to do."

"It was fucking stupid, yes," Alex agrees, and Henry's heart plummets. But then Alex continues, his tone softening, "Putting your health in danger like this. I thought you were going to sneeze your fucking brains out. You could have told me from the beginning, you know. I would have come by anyway. The flowers were just an excuse to come to your store."

Henry sniffles, a tiny sliver of hope rising in his chest. "They were?"

Alex suddenly looks rather nervous, a flush creeping up his neck. "Oh, Henry," he sighs, then pauses. "The first ones I brought were for aesthetic purposes, but... I chose these flowers specifically today. They have a meaning."

Henry blinks, his eyes darting to the flowers he can see through the office's open door. "They do?"

Alex nods, his voice tender. "Pink carnations for fascination, primroses for young love, and jonquils..." he takes a deep breath, "for desire for affection returned."

The room falls silent, save for Henry's sniffling. Then, a brilliant smile breaks across Henry's face. His heart swells with joy and relief, the discomfort of his allergies momentarily forgotten in the face of this revelation.

Alex takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving Henry's. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent question in his gaze. Henry, despite his puffy eyes and reddened nose, nods almost imperceptibly.

If Alex wants to kiss him while he looks like this…It really must be true love, right?

Alex cups Henry's face with gentle hands, his thumbs softly caressing his cheeks. He leans in slowly, giving Henry time to pull away if he wants to. As if Henry hadn’t been dreaming about this moment for weeks. So he closes the distance between them, his breath catching in his throat as Alex's lips finally meet his.

The kiss is soft, tender, and a little hesitant at first. Henry's lips are slightly chapped from his allergy attack, but Alex doesn't seem to mind. As they both relax into the kiss, it deepens, becoming more passionate.

Henry's hands find their way to Alex's waist, pulling him closer. He can feel the warmth of Alex's body, and smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering fragrance of flowers. It's intoxicating, and for a moment, Henry forgets about his allergies entirely.

His allergies haven’t forgotten about him, though. Henry pulls back abruptly, turning his head just in time to sneeze into his elbow. "I'm so sorry," he mumbles, mortified.

Alex, however, just laughs softly. "Don't be," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection. "It's kind of adorable, actually."

“Can I take you on a date?” Alex continues, his warm chocolate eyes full of hope.

Henry's heart skips a beat. "I would love that," he replies, a smile spreading across his face. "As long as it's not in a plant nursery."

Alex chuckles. "I'm sure there are other options." He glances at the flowers, then back at Henry. "In the meantime, I'll return the flowers to my store. I'll come by when I close, ok?" His expression turns thoughtful. "And I'll change my shirt," he adds with a knowing smile, causing Henry's heart to swell at his thoughtfulness.

From that moment on, Alex keeps coming back to the store, but always empty-handed. Until one day, Alex walks in, holding not a bouquet, but a small velvet box containing an engagement ring. His hands tremble slightly as he presents it to Henry, his eyes shining with love and anticipation.

(Funnily enough, Henry had one hidden in his office drawer, too, having planned his own proposal for weeks.)

And so, they lived happily ever after, their love story unfolding between the pages of books, away from petals and stems (at least for Henry), punctuated by the occasional sneeze, and sustained by a lifetime supply of antihistamines.

[butchfalin]

tagged by @yuritual to post 5 current favorite songs! <3 thanks for tagging me :-)

tagging @weekenddracula @jacquelying @laevatelnn @maple-leaf-in-autumn @comethedaylight if u would like xo

[s0ftpining]

tagged by @parrishh to post 3 albums i've been listening to a lot lately, thanks so much for the tag :-)

lean into life by petey (ty griffin mcelroy)

unreal unearth by hozier (bc ofc!)

spider-man: across the spiderverse by daniel pemberton (my companion for figure drawing)

tagging @manycoloureddays @bunnyearspresident @sailsflyseaward @comethedaylight @amberlouigi and anyone that wants the excuse!!

[manycoloureddays]

top five scenes from a stranger things character of your choosing; top five things that happened over the last wek; top five places you’re gonna take your girlfriend ♥️💜

i’m going to answer the stranger things one later because i am having Big Thoughts and i can’t write them all down on my lunch break but…

top 5 things that happened over the last week:

1. brendan fraser movie day complete with the gang all tucked up together on the couch

2. planning two weeks in portugal with my best friend next month

3. the wattle blooming by the creek just in time for winter

4. spending the weekend hanging out with my dad, watching telly & taking the dogs on long walks

5. texting you 😌

top 5 places i’m going to take you:

1. madame brussels cocktail bar. it’s a Vibe, plus it’s a necessary part of the gang’s melbourne experience! we usually go after the theatre, but it’s a great rooftop bar

2. the [redacted] creek. another crucial part of the gang’s melbourne experience. we’ll go for a walk with the boys, i want to show you all the places that have ended up in my writing

3. the great hall at the national gallery. it’s one of my favourite places in the world to write, plus it’s just really pretty, you’ll get it

4. melbourne zoo, maybe when there’s a gig on because zoo twilights are the best, plus we have to see the otters (they’re not your favourite kind but they’re cute as hell)

5. if we can get down the coast, i want to take you to the great ocean road, and more specifically lorne and wye river. it’s my heart home 💜♥️

[manycoloureddays]

Who would you be in a horror movie?

tagged by @steddie-there 🥰

it sounds like a hell of a lot of work but you bet your ass i’m fighting back!!

you can take the uquiz here

and create your horror movie self here

tagging @sinchronicity @pantsaretherealheroes @leiaorganathegeneral @peter-pantomime @s0ftpining @comethedaylight and anyone else who wants to join in!

[manycoloureddays]

@peter-pantomime tagged me in a double ask meme which sounded too fun to pass up!

rules: no cheating! you're starring in a movie with the last celebrity you saved in your camera roll. the last song you listened to is the title. who/what is it?

is this a historical queer romance? a persuasion au? i’m in!

and then - shuffle your "on repeat playlist" and list the first ten songs, then tag ten people

the movie’s soundtrack:

1. big wheel - samia

2. to love a boy - maya hawke

3. dead girl walking - jensen mcrae

4. true blue - boygenius

5. figure you out - djo

6. slow show - the national

7. hey lover - the daughters of eve

8. gotta have you - samia

9. if we were vampires - noah kahan & wesley schultz

10. graceland too - phoebe bridgers

okay so who’s funding this for me?

tagging @leiaorganathegeneral @broromini @pantsaretherealheroes @renaissncess @amberlouigi @fershure @gendahfluids @hyperfixateb @s0ftpining @comethedaylight and anyone else who wants in 💕

[manycoloureddays]

tagged by @peter-pantomime 🥰

i want to clarify the fantasy/werewolves/ghosts etc. because every time i write the stranger things characters with other fantasy adjacent things happening it’s still very much in the same universe as canon. i just decided that the upside down isn’t the only weird shit out there. buffy-fying the universe one canon adjacent dragon sighting at a time 😌

tagging @s0ftpining @broromini @gendahfluids @hyperfixateb @comethedaylight and anyone else who wants in (as per usual, zero pressure 💕)

the templates are here