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a petal for your thoughts

Chapter 7: sweet tooth (epilogue)

Summary:

Charles and Edwin have their first date.

Notes:

Oh my GOD!!! We finally made it to the end of this!!! This fic has been so much fun to write with Fafal and Mars. I literally could not have done this without them.

Thank you all SO SO much for all the love and support you've given to this fic so far. I love each and every one of you.

Be on the look out for one shots that I'll be posting in this series!! I have one written, which I'll likely post this weekend, and a couple planned out which I'll hopefully get around to eventually.

 

If anyone is interested, we do have a spotify playlist for this fic! Lots of songs that inspired me while I wrote, all cumulated by me, Fafal, and Mars:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5DLA7ShWmexsxDzee9iayU?si=a53343ca094742d1

[PLEASE NOTE: I did originally write this fic in present tense. But after writing my 40k word newsies fic in past tense, I decided I liked that better. So I did rewrite all of PYFT in past tense. I didn’t change any plot but I did edit it a bit and added more details to flesh out the writing more!!]

Chapter Text

Something about the day felt warmer somehow. It wasn’t just the summer sun peeking through the windows, bathing the shop in a soft golden light. There was an anticipation humming in the air, filling the gaps between his movements, adding a kind of brightness to the flowers he arranged. Actually, it might have had everything to do with the fact that he had his first date with Charles tonight. He caught himself smiling more often, a little bit of a flutter in his chest whenever he remembered that simple truth—a date. With Charles.

Charles had insisted on planning it all, so Edwin had no idea what was in store. Typically, he didn’t like surprises. He preferred things planned and predictable, knowing exactly what to expect. But Charles had promised him that it would be low-key, just the two of them, nothing that would feel overwhelming or require anything fancy. Of course, that promise didn’t entirely stop Edwin from spending a little extra time in the mirror that morning, getting his hair just right and pressing his clothes to make sure they were wrinkle-free. He wanted to look nice—not overdressed, but nice enough that Charles would take notice.

Charles was supposed to "pick him up" after they both closed for the night. Although, truthfully, that would mean just walking ten steps from his tattoo parlor to Edwin’s flower shop, but Charles had insisted on "doing it right".

It was ten minutes before closing when the bell above the shop door chimed, cutting through the gentle quiet of the shop. Edwin looked up from where he was tidying some stray petals off the counter, and in walked Charles, a grin spreading across his face—one of those wide, contagious smiles that instantly made Edwin’s own lips twitch up in response. He felt the warmth bubble up in his chest, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips as well.

“Good evening, Mr. Paine,” Charles greeted with a teasing lilt, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Good evening, Mr. Rowland,” Edwin replied in kind, raising an eyebrow to match the playful look Charles was throwing his way. “What can I do for you?”

Charles approached the counter, leaning on it slightly, his grin never wavering. “Actually, I was wondering if I could buy a custom bouquet.”

“Well, usually I don’t take customs,” Edwin said, glancing pointedly at his watch. “Eight minutes before closing.” He tried to keep his expression serious, but the corner of his lips betrayed him, curling upward as he fought the urge to laugh.

“Oh, please, sir,” Charles pleaded dramatically, clasping his hands together, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I have a date tonight with this really handsome bloke. And, you see, I would get him something premade, but he has this thing about flowers. It has to be special.”

Edwin bit back a smile, deciding to play along. He knew Charles was being ridiculous, but there was something so utterly charming about it. “I see,” he replied, pretending to consider it seriously. “Well, I suppose I can make an exception. Did you have any flowers in mind?”

“Why yes, I do,” Charles grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Let’s start with some red cosmos.”

Edwin blinked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, but he didn’t hesitate. He turned and carefully pulled a bundle of red cosmos from the display behind him. Red cosmos. Deep love. The memory of that particular meaning sent a thrill through him, and he tried to keep his hands steady as he arranged them in the vase.

“Anything else?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Charles, who seemed to be watching him with that same grin—a little softer now, but still there.

“Hmm,” Charles hummed, pretending to think. “How about some red asters?”

Edwin could feel his face grow warmer, a blush creeping up his neck. Red asters. Undying devotion. He pulled a few of the flowers, placing them in with the cosmos, the reds blending beautifully together.

“And,” Charles added, “how about some red dahlias, too? If you have them.”

“I do,” Edwin murmured, his voice a little quieter now, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached for the dahlias, their vibrant red petals soft under his fingertips. He arranged them delicately, trying to ignore the way his cheeks burned.

“What about some red roses to go with all this red?” Edwin joked, glancing at Charles with a raised eyebrow, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Charles shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Nah, my boyfriend hates them.”

Boyfriend . The word seemed to hang in the air between them, and Edwin could feel it settle into his chest, warm and wonderful. His lips curved into a soft smile, the word making something flutter inside him.

“I will take some red carnations, though,” Charles said after a moment, his voice quieter, more sincere.

Red carnations. The same flower Charles had bought that first day he’d come into the shop, trying to prove he was a paying customer so that Edwin would help him.  the same flower he had kept—preserved in silica—displayed in a small vase on his desk. The same flower Edwin had used to make a boutonnière for Charles’ birthday. Edwin’s heart swelled as he reached for the carnations, arranging them with the rest.

He worked quickly, but carefully, arranging the array of red blooms into a simple yet elegant bouquet. He was aware of Charles watching him, leaning against the counter, quiet but present.

When he was done, he turned back to Charles, presenting the bouquet with a small smile. “You do realize that you just had me arrange my own bouquet, right?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Charles opened his mouth, stammering, “Well, yeah, but—I—”

Before he could finish, Edwin leaned over the counter, pressing a quick kiss to Charles’ lips, cutting off whatever flustered response he’d been about to give. “I love it,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to meet Charles’ eyes, his smile widening at the way Charles looked at him, stunned and delighted. “Thank you.”

Charles’ face split into a grin, his eyes shining with joy. “Anytime, love,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, the words wrapped in something so genuine, so full of warmth that it made Edwin’s heart skip a beat.

“Now,” Charles continued, clearing his throat, “are you ready to get out of here?”

Edwin looked around the shop—the flowers, the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the windows. It felt safe, comforting, familiar. But then he looked at Charles, standing there with that eager, slightly nervous look in his eyes, holding the bouquet that Edwin had made with all those careful, meaningful blooms, and he realized that he didn’t need to stay in his comfort zone. Not when Charles was offering him something far more precious. Something new and full of possibility.

He smiled, nodding. “I’m ready.”

Charles beamed, extending a hand towards Edwin, and Edwin took it without hesitation, the warmth of Charles’ palm against his own grounding him, filling him with a sense of certainty that felt rare and wonderful. He let Charles lead him out of the shop, the bell above the door chiming softly as they stepped into the evening, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange.

Edwin locked the shop behind them, slipping the keys into his pocket, and turned back to Charles. “Alright then, where are we off to?”

Charles just grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You’ll see.”

When they left the shop, Edwin expected them to head past Charles’s shop and down the street. Instead, Charles led him through his own shop, weaving past the chairs, then through the back hallway and up the stairs to where his flat was.

“Crystal’s staying at Niko’s for the night,” Charles said casually as they reached the top of the stairs.

Edwin raised an eyebrow at him, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

“Not that—I’m expecting we do anything,” Charles stammered, his face turning red. “I just thought it might be nicer to have the place to ourselves. Since, you know… I know you don’t particularly like a lot of people at once, and it’ll for sure be quieter with just us.”

Edwin’s expression softened, and he reached for Charles’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” he said.

Charles nodded, but he looked nervous as he turned and opened the door to his flat, letting them inside.

Edwin could immediately tell that the flat was different from the last time he’d seen it. The usual clutter was tidied up; the kitchen was spotless, with not a single dish out of place, save for a pot sitting on the stove. Two place settings were arranged at the small dining table, and there were candles scattered around the room, their soft glow mingling with the twinkling fairy lights that hung across the ceiling. And in the middle of the living room stood what Edwin could only describe as a fortress.

It was a massive blanket fort, a tangle of blankets and pillows held up by chairs, small tables, and stools. It was… impressive, really, and far more elaborate than anything Edwin had ever built as a child. The fort was adorned with even more fairy lights, their soft glow spilling out from the entrance and casting a warm, golden hue over the room.

“Charles… what—” Edwin gaped, unable to find the words to express what he felt as he took in the sight before him.

Charles rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “Look, I know. It’s probably a bit much. But I thought it’d be fun. Niko helped me set it up. I used to love building pillow forts as a kid, and I thought it would be more special than just hanging out in my boring living room.” He glanced at Edwin, a nervous edge to his smile. “We could watch a movie or something, if you want.”

Laughter bubbled up from Edwin’s chest, light and carefree, spilling from his lips as he looked at Charles—really looked at him, standing there, nervous and hopeful. He was so downright ridiculous, so sincere, so endearing that it made Edwin’s heart swell.

“We don’t have to—” Charles started, his uncertainty clear.

“Shut up,” Edwin said, cutting him off as he leaned in to press his lips to Charles’s. It was probably his new favorite way to get Charles to stop talking—not that he would ever admit it out loud. “I love it,” he added, his voice soft, but the sincerity clear.

Charles’s face lit up, his nervousness melting away as joy took its place. “Brills,” he grinned, and before Edwin could react, Charles grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. “Come on. I made dinner.”

Edwin followed, his curiosity piqued. He looked down into the pot on the stove and raised an eyebrow. “Spaghetti?”

Charles puffed out his chest, clearly trying to appear confident. “Yeah, but it’s the best spaghetti you’ll ever have,” he boasted, then his bravado faded, and he gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, mate. Not much of a cook.”

Edwin smiled, shaking his head. “That’s alright,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’ll just have to cook for you sometime.”

Charles’s eyes widened, and he looked at Edwin with a playful smirk. “What can’t you do?”

Edwin chuckled. “Confess to my crush like a normal person, apparently.”

Charles let out a surprised laugh, the sound bright and infectious. “You had a crush on me? How embarrassing.”

“Charles, you know very well I had a crush on you.”

“Still,” Charles said with a shrug, his grin widening. “It’s okay, though, because apparently I was pretty gone for you, too.”

After dinner, they moved to the blanket fort. It was a little awkward at first, lying side by side amidst the pillows and blankets. Charles seemed almost too respectful of Edwin’s space, keeping a noticeable distance between them. It warmed Edwin’s heart to know how thoughtful Charles was being, but at the same time, it frustrated him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Charles to touch him—quite the opposite, really.

After a while, the frustration became too much, and Edwin turned his head to look at Charles, who was staring up at the ceiling, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“Charles,” Edwin said, his voice cutting through the quiet of the room.

Charles looked over, his brows furrowing. “Yeah?”

“You’re allowed to touch me,” Edwin said, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed, meeting Charles’s eyes, letting his vulnerability show. “Please. I want your touch. If it’s you, it doesn’t matter.”

Charles blinked, his eyes widening. “Oh… right. Okay,” he said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat and shifted closer, slowly, giving Edwin time to change his mind. When Edwin didn’t move away, Charles closed the distance between them, his arm slipping around Edwin’s shoulders, pulling him in until Edwin’s head rested against his chest, nestled in the crook of Charles’s neck.

As they settled into the new position, Edwin felt Charles let out a long, contented sigh, his hold tightening around him. He gathered Edwin closer, and Edwin could feel the steady rise and fall of Charles’s chest beneath his cheek. The tension in his own body melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through him, a sense of belonging that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

The movie played on Charles’s laptop, but Edwin found himself paying less and less attention to it, his focus shifting entirely to the man holding him. Charles’s fingers were running gently through his hair, the sensation soothing, even as it left his hair a mess. But Edwin couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt… safe. More than that, he felt wanted.

When the credits finally rolled, Edwin propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Charles. The soft glow of the fairy lights bathed his face in a warm light, highlighting the softness of his features, the relaxed curve of his lips, the contentment in his eyes.

Before Edwin could say anything, Charles moved, surging forward and capturing Edwin’s lips in a gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup Edwin’s jaw. Charles kissed him like he was something precious, something fragile. It was slow, unrushed, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, that conveyed emotions too big for words alone.

Edwin had never felt anything like it. He hadn’t had many kisses in his life—a few awkward, stilted ones on first dates, and a couple of clumsy experiments when he was first figuring himself out. But nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the way Charles’s lips moved with his, the gentle push and pull between them, the warmth that spread through his entire body.

A shiver ran through him when Charles’s hand made its way under his shirt, fingertips brushing against his skin. Edwin let out a small, involuntary sound when Charles's lips began trailing down his jaw, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive spots along his neck.

They didn’t go any further than that, content with exploring each other slowly, taking their time. They shared lazy kisses, soft touches, and Edwin felt himself fall even more in love with Charles—if that were even possible. They eventually dozed off, wrapped in each other’s warmth, surrounded by the pillows and blankets that made up their little cocoon of safety.

When Edwin woke sometime later, groggy and disoriented, he didn’t know how much time had passed, nor did he care. He turned his head, and there was Charles, his arm still wrapped securely around him, his face relaxed and peaceful. Charles's eyes opened a crack, meeting his gaze sleepily, and he gave Edwin a small smile.

“Stay?” Charles murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the fort.

Edwin’s heart melted at the simple request. He smiled, his eyes half-lidded with sleep as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Charles's forehead. “Of course,” he whispered, settling back against him, resting his head on Charles's chest once more.

Charles tightened his hold on him, pulling him closer, and Edwin closed his eyes, letting the sound of Charles's heartbeat lull him back to sleep. He had never felt more content than in that moment.

He thought back to the beginning of it all—the first bouquet, sent on one of his busiest days, a small act that bloomed into everything he never knew he needed. And as he held onto the love of his life, he realized that maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

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