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It was a little hole-in-the-wall kind of place, smaller than the taller commercial buildings around it; a bit run down, but quaint in a charming sort of way due to the cute sign with a fluffball like creature next to the shop’s name. A verdant jungle of emerald greens displayed in the shop’s window contrasted with the grey concrete buildings around it.
It was a homey and cute flower shop. The kind of which Joonghyuk would never go into—he never had a reason to—since grocery store flowers worked just fine for special occasions. But he saw the sign with the cute cloud and couldn’t help but think that it looked a bit like Biyoo and stopped on the street debating whether or not to go in.
He had gotten his hopes up before too many times thinking he had finally found Kim Dokja in this life only to be sorely disappointed.
Much like his past regression depression, he often fell into despair during his search for the fragments of Dokja’s soul. It was a weary task, and the insurmountable longing that plagued his mind was maddening. But whatever doubts he may have had (doubts in his weakest moments) were always blown away the moment he found Kim Dokja again.
Just like now, when he opened the door to the Cloud Flower Shop and finally set his eyes upon his star for the first time in this life.
The loud but sweet chime of a bell rang throughout the shop announcing a customers arrival, and yet, Kim Dokja so intensely focused on the book he was reading, failed to notice Joonghyuk’s entrance. Joonghyuk was sure Dokja had chosen an extra loud bell for this very reason, but alas, it had predictably failed to pull Dokja out of his emersion in his book.
Joonghyuk fondly (although with some exasperation) reminiscenced about all the ways he would get his star’s attention. A strong shake was easy and simple and did the job; yelling never worked but a quiet whisper and soft breath against his companion’s ear would provide pleasing results—a startled blush and shocked shivers and a disgruntled but slightly aroused expression. If he was feeling particularly lazy and needy sometimes he’d just roll or flop (depending on whether he was prone, standing, or sitting) on to Dokja and force his way into Dokja’s arms placing himself in front of the book.
One of his favorite methods—although not as frequently used—was sucking Dokja off. It was surprising just how far Joonghyuk could get with pulling Dokja’s pants off before the other noticed his intentions, and despite being busy reading Dokja never refused him, sometimes even playing a game to see just how long he could keep reading while with Joonghyuk’s head between his legs, deep throating his cock. Joonghyuk always knew when Dokja’s concentration is all but obliterated when his eyes move haphazardly across the pages, the book shaking in his hands, held back moans slipping through his lips. Dokja can put on a good façade that he’s unaffected, but Joonghyuk has lived long enough with his star, to see through all his bluffs.
The inside of the building was a lush jungle filled with a multitude of green shades composed of a wide array of plants ranging from hanging vines, to soft moss and ferns, and larger plants that have grown so prolifically that they gave Joonghyuk an embarrassing start—his mind momentarily entering fight mode as it conjured up images of monstrous foliage with sharp teeth and thorny vines from his first life. Interspersed between the dense foliage was an endless kaleidoscope of colorful blooms, and as he approaches the counter, cut flowers in fragrant bouquets are arranged in such a away that light reflects off the misted blooms, bathing Dokja in an ethereal light.
His star is a fae-being come from the forest to enchant him, he is a woodland nymph enticing him into the forest to be forever lost, he is embodiment of spring providing salvation to Joonghyuk who has been lost in the winter of hopelessness and despair.
Joonghyuk lightly hit the desk bell, its shrill ring disturbing the gentle atmposhere of the room. However, its ring—a second fail safe in case Dokja failed to hear the bell above the door—failed to rouse the owner of the store, his delicate fingers hurriedly turning another page.
In a deep sonorous voice, Joonghyuk called out: “Excuse me.”
Dokja startled, losing grasp of his book, which Joonghyuk expertly (and very smoothly he might add) caught the book before its precious pages ever touched the floor.
Galaxies met the black abyss of space.
“Beautiful.”
The word came out unbidden but nonetheless held the truth of Joonghyuk’s feelings. Dokja’s cheeks bloomed like vermillion roses.
Still startled, heart beating in a nervous time, Dokja softly spoke. “Yes the flowers are quite pretty.” His eyes flicking to the bouquets set in stands around the desk, before snapping back to Joonghyuk’s own, neither man wanting to break their shared gaze.
“I was talking about you.”
Dokja’s breath hitched.
Joonghyuk smiled entrancingly.
Much like the flowers with their vibrant metals and sweet nectar, Joonghyuk was using his face and all the charm he could muster to seduce his star into his arms as fast as possible, not wanting be in a state of longing for another second. “I would like a bouquet for my sister, one that you recommend, and, if I may be so bold, I would like to buy you coffee.” The sign out front with the store’s hours and the word “closed” on Sunday, flashed through Joonghyuk’s mind. “On Sunday if you’re free?”
Dokja, like a skittish cat, often ran when Joonghyuk took a direct approach, and it was a toss up as to whether Joonghyuk’s seductive gamble would work.
Nervous and flittery, like a butterfly caught in a breeze, Dokja nodded slightly, as he moved to grab a bouquet of hydrangeas. “I recommend these.” His whispered, his eyes now glancing at the ground, no longer brave enough to meet Joonghyuk’s gaze. “And Sunday would be good.” He added tentatively.
“Lovely.” And Joonghyuk wasn’t just talking about the flowers.