Chapter Text
Just as Brad was unpacking his bag, ready to crack down on his homework, he heard a knock on his apartment door.
He immediately walked over to the door, happy to procrastinate on his schoolwork just a little longer.
Checking the peephole (because, with his luck, some discount villain would storm his and Gene’s apartment and use some backpack full of robot arms and ice blasters to destroy the place to find an equally specific and weird ancient artifact. Because that was the reality of living in Ninjago City), Brad jumped back in shock. Rubbing his eyes and even pinching himself to make this wasn’t a dream, he looked into the peephole again.
Nope. Still Lloyd Garmadon, the Legendary Green Ninja, Brad’s childhood friend, and his really awkward gay awakening.
His cheeks heated up at the thought, Gene’s teasing echoing in his head.
When Gene made his way over, Brad was busy glaring at the other Nin-jagoffs as the group packed up to go.
(Brad may have helped the ninja win against their Bizarro clones, but that was before Lloyd and Brad had their ritual of sneaking off to their closet to catch up. And what Lloyd talked about casually - like it was normal and okay - made Brad’s blood boil.
(Between leaving him on the roof, stealing the ship right from under the other boy’s nose, abandoning Lloyd to the snakes, and the whole volcano incident, Brad wasn’t even sure how his best friend was still alive.
(So yeah, he now hated those guys and it was on sight in the future. Especially the red and spiky one, the prick)
“Wow, Brad. Only you would fall for the first superhero you see.” Gene snorted.
That snapped Brad out of his single minded focus to set the Nin-jerks on fire with his eyes. What was the ginger talking about? “Huh?”
“But Lloyd Garmadon? The kid who would trip over his own two feet and immediately apologize to the ground? Really?” Gene raised an eyebrow to complete his judgmental stare.
And after that, Brad promptly spiraled into a week long sexuality crisis.
It’s been almost a decade since those words were uttered, but they were seared into his memory.
Brad shook himself out of his little flashback and back to the matter at hand. The really hot matter at hand-
“Get it together Brad!” he whispered harshly to himself as he smacked both cheeks.
Lloyd. Door. Don’t make a fool out of yourself.
With his plan set in place, Brad opened the door.
Lloyd seemed almost startled when the door swung open, looking up with wide eyes (Brad did take a bit to open the door). And, FSM, despite the slight bags under the Green Ninja’s eyes, his slightly disheveled appearance, and how he was clearly out of breath, Lloyd was still unfairly hot.
The blond visibly steeled himself, almost bracing himself for Brad’s reaction before even saying anything.
“Hey, Brad, long-time, no-see.” The shorter man rushed out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, but it was only last night that I realized it.” As Lloyd spoke, his face steadily turned redder and redder.
Not that Brad noticed. These words swirled around, over and over in his head like a speeding train stuck on a tiny looped track. Brad wanted to profess his undying love with poise and grace to really let this guy know how much he means to him.
Instead, all Brad could utter was an “oh, same.”
Lloyd’s gaze snapped to Brad’s. “What?”
“Well, uh, Gene pointed it out that I like you just as you were leaving Darkley’s that final time.”
“…Oh.”
“Yeah…”
Silence reigned for a pregnant pause, when Lloyd lit up with realization. He shoved his hand under his pullover hoodie and out came with it a bouquet of flowers.
“Here.” Lloyd thrusted the bundle at Brad’s face, refusing to make eye contact as his face brightened to be even redder than before.
Taking the flowers, Brad could finally see what exactly was in the bouquet.
It was entirely daisies. A whole host of paper daisies in a variety of patterns from origami paper. There were reds and purples and blues and greens and pinks and yellows. Some were plain and some were shiny. Some had stripes or spots or waves or triangles or tiny flowers or cranes. All with pipe cleaner stems. And poking out from the gaps of the paper flowers were real daises, all white.
Brad’s breath caught in his throat as he thought of the meanings daisies could hold.
Friendship, loyalty, and the ability to keep secrets. Without the latter two, Lloyd and Brad would have never been friends. Especially at Darkley’s. It was that loyalty that got each other out of scrapes and detentions. And it was their discretion that allowed the two’s little scraps of happiness.
New beginnings is what was reflected in the two time and time again. Brad offering Lloyd a comic that fateful day. Lloyd becoming a ninja and fighting for good. Brad joining the fight for good and realizing that it felt nice to help other just for the sake of it. Lloyd offering to catch up now that the two were older in that cafe a year back. And now, yet another new beginning of possible romance (Brad hoped).
The final three meanings is what caused that hope to flare in Brad’s chest. Beauty, true love, and secret admiration.
The bouquet wasn’t perfect. The tissue paper was a little crinkled, the flowers of all kinds were flattened on one side of the bunch, and a couple of flowers (of both types) were missing a few petals here and there.
No, it wasn’t perfect. But it was nostalgic.
Brad looked up and briefly the image of the last time a cute boy awkwardly gave him flowers (a shy little boy, a terrible bowl cut, a black uniform sweater, arms clasped nervously behind his back, and a gap-toothed, nervous smile) overlayed overtop the Legendary Green Ninja standing on Brad’s doorstep. And yet, the expression hadn’t changed one bit.
Brad just couldn’t help but lean in to kiss the adorkable man that shy kid grew up to be.
He reached out and grabbed the collar of that green hoodie and dragged Lloyd in, ignoring the shorter man’s huge eyes. Instead, Brad tried to pour every ounce of his feelings into the kiss.
The press of lips were electrifying, the static traveling from where they met all the way down to the tips of Brad’s toes.
Lloyd’s lips were chapped and a bit cracked and rough in spots, like he bit his lips often when he was stressed, but with a softened edge like- yep. There it was: chapstick. And in the sweet taste of Sugar Straws. The sugar fiend, Brad thought fondly before all thoughts were being pulled back into the kiss.
The taller man angled his head to deepen the kiss, and Lloyd paused his lips’ movement before getting with the program and tilling his head in the other direction.
With their noses out of the way, their lips slotted together seamlessly, melding as one until they couldn’t remember where one ended and the other began.
It was a sweet and gentle thing, where Brads arms wrapped around Lloyd’s neck, one hand reaching up to entangle with the blond waves (and FSM, is it as soft as it looks) while the other loosely holds the bouquet, taking great care to keep the bundle upright.
Where Lloyd’s arms encircled around Brad’s waist, his right thumb rubbing circles into the skin exposed from Brad’s sweater and pollo riding up, thumb grazing alongside the band of his jeans.
Where Brad smiles into the kiss and Lloyd grins back.
They kiss and kiss and kiss, because nothing has ever felt so right.
They were what was left of the world. Just the two of them in the ever sprawling expanse of space, with only the stars as witnesses and the planets in audience.
The feelings of eternity and finity rattled his bones; transcendence and immanence danced across the fibers of his muscles; wholeness and fragmentation trailed across his nerve endings; boundlessness and limitation pulsed in his sweeping stretch of skin. His cells and atoms and quarks alight with the new beginnings and final endings colliding with one another over and over.
It all coalesces and grows into the sweetest of perfection, offering a sense of safety and peace which reverberated throughout Brad’s very being.
He really didn’t want to, but Brad needed to come up for air. His lungs were screaming and he was half tempted to ignore them, push through, until this was the last sensation he would have ever felt.
But, alas, the rational part of his brain took over. The brunet pulled back, gently pushing at Lloyd’s chest (and FSM, what a chest it was) when the blond tried to chase his lips.
A smug feeling of satisfaction flooded through Brad’s system as he catalogued how utterly debauched the younger man looked. His lips were swollen and the pretty pink of a painted rose, parted open for gasping breaths. His hair in further disarray from Brad’s fingers playing with his hair. And his eyes, FSM, his eyes were sparkling with utter joy with an undertone of disbelief.
Brad wanted to see Lloyd like this for every second of every day for rest of time.
And that was when Brad was struck with a fantastic idea.
“Hang on, I’ll be right back.” He rushed out, taking the flowers and taking a picture of them before carefully separating the two flower types.
Making quick work, Brad sliced the bottom the stems at an angle and mashed the exposed ends with the butt of the knife until they were fibrous. He found the elegant glass vase Gene had given him for his last birthday, filled it with water, added a tablespoon of sugar and an Alka-Seltzer tablet, and mixed his concoction together.
Dropping the flowers in, the brunet hurried the vase and the rest of the bouquet back to his room. The vase made its home on his end table and the flowers on his desk.
After a moment of debate, Brad plucked a daisy from the vase, clipped the smashed end to be straight.
Brad practically sprinted back to the kitchen table and grabbed his wallet and keys, finger combing his hair all the while.
Good enough, he supposed, before adding the final touch: the daisy sticking out from behind his ear.
Brad took a few calming breaths and readied himself for the crux of his plan. He was gonna date the wonderful Lloyd Garmadon so hard, it wasn’t even funny!
He walked over and opened his door again (when did he ever close it?), flipping the lock from the inside as he closed it again.
And the sight that greeted him almost made him melt.
Lloyd was still there, in almost the exact same position Brad had left him. His eyes were dazed and a hand was pressed to his lips. But it did nothing to cover the goofy grin splitting his face. A blush spread from the tips of his ears, over the apples of his cheeks, and across the bridge of his nose, working down his throat and disappearing into his collar.
It took everything Brad had to not kiss the man again. But he couldn’t be distracted from his mission! There would be plenty of that later (he hoped).
“Lloyd?” Brad’s question seemed to snap the blond out of it.
“M’yeah?”
The two stared at each other, the air growing heavy with something Brad could not name, but it was an oppressive thing. It was not quite nervousness, but it wasn’t a calm feeling either. It was more like being on the edge of the abyss and not knowing if plunging into it would be the right choice or if the act of abstaining would be wrong. The giddiness was there, yes, but it was overshadowed by the yawning abyss staring straight back.
In the end, Brad decided to take the terrific plunge.
“Hey, I’m-” Brad started, just as Lloyd uttered, “So, you-?“ before they both cut themselves off.
They both laughed as the tension of whatever that was building between them broke.
Lloyd was the first one to catch his breath, asking “You wanna catch a movie?” He hesitated, “Y’know, as a date?”
Brad smiled. It’s nice to see that, even after all these year, they were still on the same wavelength. “Yeah, I’m free! New Starfarer movie?”
Lloyd’s grin was boyish and cheeky. “Do you even have to ask?” He held out a hand that Brad immediately accepted.
Lloyd’s hand engulfed Brad’s, their contrasting calluses (from training and guarding respectively) managed to fit next each other so wonderfully. Their fingers intertwined and slotted together as if they were made for nobody but the other.
And thus, the two made their way down Brad’s apartment steps, heading out on their hundredth first official date.