Archive of Our Own

The morning was slow today. Not that it was usually fast, just slower than usual. 

Part of it might have been Flux’s own fault though. He was leaning against the counter of his flower shop, staring lazily out the window just below the sign outside reading Flowers Influx (his roommate, Saps, thought he was so clever coming up with that name). 

His eyes were on the new tattoo parlor that was setting up, just across the street. The outside was flashy and colourful, neon lights currently streaming “CLOSED” across its door and potential designs plastered over a sandwich board. 

It was definitely enticing, Flux will admit that, but a bit too much for his tastes. 

What was in his interests, however, was the new guy that seemed to own the parlor. 

A moving truck was standing by, parked just outside the door and all morning so far, the guy, by himself, had just been taking things back and forth from the truck back inside. Flux wondered how he could manage to do that all seemingly without complaining once, not that Flux was really complaining either. 

The sun was blazing today, so he was wearing a tight black shirt. Big mistake, because it was revealing sleeves of tattoos across his arms. Not that the tattoos were a problem to Flux, but because god damn. Could you really blame him for not being able to look away? 

He was too far for Flux to really tell the actual designs, but it was really the statement of it all that got to him. What was also very notable was the sheer definition of those arms. Most especially, when the guy kept having to bend over and pick up those damn boxes again, his muscles would involuntarily flex every single time. 

Seriously, would he ever run out of those boxes? (Was it bad Flux kinda hoped he wouldn’t…?)

Unfortunately, the sudden tap on the bell of the counter snapped him out of his thoughts immediately. He glanced up begrudgingly, while still putting on his best smile. It’s not that he didn’t like serving customers, he enjoyed his job quite thoroughly, but he was… busy.

“Hi, apologies, what can I help you with?” Flux said, in a tone as joyful as he could muster. 

The customer in front of him seemed to be in her late 50s, and was smiling very enthusiastically, almost unnervingly.  

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” She responded, grinning ear to ear. “Do you have anything that says “Congrats on your divorce!”?”

Flux couldn’t help but let out a stifled laugh at that. “Excuse me?”

“You see, my best friend has finally divorced the man that we have all hated for years,” Flux could really tell that. “I guess the straw finally broke the camel’s back! I’m so proud of her.”

He pondered for a moment, tapping a finger against the counter. 

“A few sunflowers and some daisies could work—they’re bright and give a sort of ‘congrats on the fresh start,’” Flux finally offered, chuckling mostly to himself. “I can get those in a bouquet for you, if you’d like?”

“Yes, that would be perfect!” She clasped her hands together and beamed. “Thank you so much, dear.”

A long while later, he got the bouquet together, flowers tied together with a gold ribbon. He handed it over with his usual practiced smile.

The woman gasped like he’d just given her a winning lottery ticket. “Oh, it’s perfect! You’re a sweetheart.”

Flux laughed politely, ringing her up. “Tell your friend congrats on the freedom.”

She winked. “Oh, I will.”

And with that, she left, humming all the way out the door.

Flux turned back to the window, resting his head against his hand—only to find the truck had somehow completely disappeared with no tattoo guy in sight. 

Damn it. Welp, it was fun while it lasted, he thought with a sigh.

But just then, the jingle on the front door rang. 

Flux glanced up, to see Tattoo guy enter his shop. 

The guy. From across the street. In the flesh. Close enough that Flux could see the tattoos now and, damn, that was unfair. A snake coiled around one arm, the head landing above the inside of his wrist. Branches of red leaves trailed the other one so-very intricately. Just lay Flux dead in the dirt now. 

Before he could do anything he’d regret, Flux straightened up in his seat, trying to re-enter his peak customer-service mode and look somewhat professional. Is professional even what he wants to go for right now? Should he be casual?

Okay, overcomplicating it. Flux groaned internally. The guy wasn’t even focusing on him currently, just wandering the aisles, like any normal customer would.

Flux watched as Tattoo guy picked up a few flowers, smelling them briefly before placing them back down just as thoughtfully. Such respect! Such grace! Lord, strike him down now. 

But then, the guy slowed down, staring a beat too long at the roses. Roses? Great, of course he was picking him up roses. A guy like that definitely has a girlfriend or something. A gorgeous artsy type girl who maybe—probably—waters plants for fun. 

Eventually, Tattoo guy set the rose back down, and Flux almost facepalmed himself for even caring what the guy was picking up. He hadn’t even talked to him yet, so what even was the big deal? 

Then, Tattoo guy turned around and started making his way toward the counter. Towards Flux. Big deal!

He stopped in front of him, offering Flux a light and easy smile, bright as a marigold. 

“Hey, sorry, I’m decorating my tattoo parlor across the street,” Tattoo guy said. “Wanted something that won’t die under LED lights. You got any ideas?”

Flux blinked and said before he could stop himself, “So, not for someone?”

Luckily, the guy laughed in response, a confused laugh, making Flux want to die a little less inside. 

“Uh, no? Unless you count me.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Flux chuckled. “Most people come for bouquets for a loved one. With someone like you, I’d expect…”

“Someone like me?”

“You know, tall, tattooed, muscular?”

The guy smirked. “So, you noticed?”

“Hard not to,” Flux said. “You’re… pretty showy.”

“I was just moving boxes,” He chuckled, putting a hand on the counter and leaning forward against it. Flux noticed it (obviously). 

“I had not much else to look at really,” Flux shrugged, dragging a lazy finger across the counter. “Slow mornings, you know how it is.”

“I get that.”

“So, no girl of interest?

“Ah, no, got no one at the moment,” The guy replied, amiable, then almost hesitantly added, “and… I don’t swing that way.”

Jackpot!

“I see,” Flux nodded nonchalantly (but was it really?), turning to face the back shelf. “So, LEDs, right? Snake plants under those, or maybe a peace lily if you want to pretend you’ve got a nurturing side.”

Tattoo guy huffed a laugh. “You’re assuming I don’t.”

Flux raised a brow. “Dude, you came in asking for a plant that survives neglect.”

“Fair,” The guy admitted, grin tugging wider. “What can I say? I’m a busy guy.”

Flux leaned forward on his elbows, into that space between them with his own grin. “Then you and one of these guys are soulmates.”

That earned another genuine laugh. It was kind of embarrassing how much Flux enjoyed that sound, considering they just met. 

“Alright, you’ve sold me,” Tattoo guy said, eyes scanning the back shelves. “Which one’s the least likely to die on me?”

Flux reached behind him, grabbing one of the smaller pots and setting it down with a small flourish. “This one’s your best bet. Practically immortal. Even you might have a fighting chance.”

The guy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Do you slander every customer you get?”

“No,” Flux smirked. “But you don’t make it too difficult.”

The guy looked at the plant, then back up at him. “I thought flower shops would have sweethearts for owners.”

“You’ve never met me then,” Flux responded easily, grinning back. 

He laughed again, softer this time, and shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re something else, man.”

Flux tilted his head. “You’re buying the plant though, right?”

That made him grin, totally defeated. “Yeah, yeah. Ring me up before you wound me any more.”

As Flux began doing just that, the guy spoke up again. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” Tattoo guy asked, chuckling almost nervously. “You know, seeing as we’ll be technically neighbours.”

“Fluixon,” Flux answered simply, but maybe a tad quicker than he would’ve liked. “Flux, for short.”

He nodded, a cheeky smirk on his face. “Flowers Influx, huh?”

Flux sighed, but he was still smiling. “My roommate thinks he’s really funny.” 

Tattoo guy laughed lightly. “I’m Thomas, nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too,” Flux said, trying not to sound like a bashful idiot. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tattoo guy, now Thomas, smiled, turning back towards the door. “Thanks for the plant.”

“It’s my job,” Flux replied, feeling all too warm as Thomas left, the plant in hand and the bell ringing behind him when the door swung shut. 

If that was how every slow morning would be like, then Flux wished every morning was slow. 

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Saps said with a grin as he entered the shop. 

It had been a couple days since the parlor shop had opened. Flux had mostly fallen back into his usual routine, and he hadn’t really talked to Thomas since he’d met him. But at least now, he’d just get the occasional glimpse, just outside his window, of Thomas greeting potential customers and stepping in and outside the shop from time to time. 

Flux raised an eyebrow from his spot behind the counter. “What makes you say that?” 

“You put out the welcome board today, by the door?” Saps pointed out, gesturing towards the door. “You’re usually too lazy to do that.”

“Oh,” Flux said. “Just felt like it, you know.”

In truth, Flux had purposefully gone outside to do that in hopes of maybe bumping into Thomas again, mostly hoping for even a fraction of another conversation. Unfortunately, it did not really go as planned. They kind of just waved across from each other as Thomas was still inside his own parlor. 

Still worth it though. 

“‘Felt like it’?” Saps repeated questioningly as he began resting against one of the shelves. “It’s unlike you to change routine.”

Flux paused with a sigh. What was the point of gatekeeping anyway? Besides, he was kind of excited to talk about it…

“Okay, well,” Flux could already feel himself smiling involuntarily. “I met someone interesting the other day.”

“What?” Saps yelled, slapping a hand over his mouth, realising his own volume. He continued, slightly quieter, “Flux has a crush on someone?”

Flux rolled his eyes. “It’s not a crush yet—”

“Yet, you’re moving boards outside, which you never do.”

“Shut up,” Flux flushed, squeezing the bridge between his brows. “We’ve only talked once.”

“Still counts,” Saps countered, then began wiggling his eyebrows like the annoying idiot he was. “Sooo, who is it? Tell me everything, man.”

Flux rubbed the back of his neck, slightly shy now. 

“It’s the owner of the new parlor shop across the street,” Flux admitted after a beat of hesitance. “He’s really cute.”

Suddenly, Saps paused and his face dropped. He blinked at him, making Flux feel even more embarrassed than he already was.

“The new owner…?” Saps repeated, skeptically for some reason. “You mean Thomas?”

“Yeah—wait, how’d you know his name?”

“Dude, do you not remember Thomas?” Saps asked, cracking a smirk. “That’s your Thomas.”

“Yeah, I mean, I know he’ll be my Thomas but—”

“Nonono, dude,” Saps held a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to stop himself laughing. “That’s Thomas An, from elementary? You used to boss him around?”

“Thomas An?” Flux said again, racking his brain for any sort of remembrance. Boss him around? He pondered. 

Then it hit him. 

“Thomas An!” Flux shouted, practically in horror as he slammed his fists onto the table.

Years ago, no literally, years and years ago, Flux, Saps, and Thomas had all gone to the same elementary school. While they were all very good friends, as good friends as small children could be with each other, Flux and Thomas had a slightly more unique dynamic. 

As a kid, Flux was nothing more than loud, obnoxious, and very bossy. That might have been a huge problem, if not for the fact that most kids had learned to mostly tune out his more undesirable qualities and only play with him when Flux had given up the astute attitude long enough to join in. 

But one kid never tuned him out.

Thomas “5200” An.

Unlike everyone else, little Thomas, for some reason, had absolutely adored little Flux and was completely and utterly willing to indulge Flux and his every single command. 

“Thomas!” A very young Flux would say, and a very young Thomas would be at the ready. “I need dandelions for my crown. Go get them for me.”

And Thomas would listen, very enthusiastically even, running around the field of the playground and collecting as many dandelions he could find. 

As Thomas returned, Flux would take them carefully in his hands and start weaving them into a beautiful and delicate ring. 

“Dandelions never die, you know?” Flux had said as he worked. “Even when you pull ‘em out they come back, at least that’s what my big sister told me.”

“Your sister?” Thomas had asked, kneeling beside him, a head on Flux’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, her name’s Cynikka,” Flux responded, his eyes never leaving his handiwork, unbothered by Thomas. “My whole family is like experts on the whole thing. They’re pretty cool sometimes, don’t tell them I said that.”

Thomas nodded against his shoulder. 

“Anyway, that’s why they’re for me. And ‘cause I’m the king and I always win!” Flux declared, holding up his finished crown against the sunlight.

The rays bounced off the bright yellow petals—perfect color for a king. Thomas stared up at it, awestruck.

“That’s so pretty.”

“Thanks. Now put it on my head,” Flux ordered.

Thomas had to reach up on his toes, being a few centimeters shorter, but he did it, gently setting it down.

Flux adjusted it, then turned to him, very serious. “Now kneel.”

Thomas laughed but obeyed anyway.

“As your king,” Flux said grandly, “I declare you my one and only servant! You will listen to everything I say, get me flowers, and protect me from stupid people. Like Saps. You got that?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Thomas said without a second’s hesitation.

“Good. Now get up.” Flux grinned. “I want a piggyback ride across the playground so I can tell everyone I rule over them.”

And obviously, Thomas complied. Despite the blatant height disadvantage, Thomas, still struggling, carried the slightly taller Flux across the field. Flux made Thomas stop at each group so that he could yell orders and assert his “dominance” over them. 

“Flux!” Saps had yelled from the sandbox, arms crossed. “You’re not even playing with us anymore!”

“I’m busy ruling the playground,” Flux announced proudly from Thomas’s back. “Thomas listens to me!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you boss him around!” Saps huffed. “You’re not a king, you’re just mean!”

Flux gasped, his wrapping tighter around Thomas. “This is an outrage! Servant, show him the consequences of treason!”

Thomas blinked, glancing up at Flux. “Uh—do I… tickle him?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

And the chaos that followed was, well, exactly what you’d expect.

No one else really wanted to play with them after that—besides Saps, who still made the occasional effort—but Flux didn’t care at all. He was perfectly content with Thomas trailing after him, thrilled with having the kind of power most eight-year-olds, of course, shouldn’t have.

It was the kind of puppy love that was stupid, adorable, and incredibly obvious. 

Did Flux know about it?

Well, of course he did. Everyone under the sun made sure he did.

Back then, Ender, his older brother, used to pick up both him and Cynikka from school so that they could walk home together afterwards. 

One evening, little Flux was about ready to go home, spotting Ender and Cynikka waiting by the gate. But before he reached them—

“Flux!” 

Expectantly, it was Thomas. 

Flux turned, not annoyed but definitely unimpressed at being stopped mid-exit.

“What is it, Thomas?”

The smaller boy shifted on his feet, face already pink, hiding something behind his back in the least subtle way imaginable. Flux raised an eyebrow.

Finally, Thomas gathered his courage and brought it out: a single dandelion.

“I got you another one,” he said, cheeks going even redder. “Since you like them so much.”

Flux beamed—genuinely—but before he could accept it, someone came up behind Thomas.

“Aww, is this the guy you’ve been talking about?”

The newcomer ruffled Thomas’s hair. Thomas immediately tried to slap his hand away.

“Go away! Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I wanted to meet him though,” the guy looked down, finally acknowledging him. “Hi Flux, I’m Legacy, Thomas’s older brother.”

“Uhm. Hi.” Baby Flux gave him the coldest eight-year-old side-eye imaginable.

Thomas shoved Legacy again, then held the flower back out.

“Here, Flux,”

“Thank you, Thomas,” Flux said, proudly. “You have done an amazing job these past months.”

And then—

“Oh my god. Flux has a boyfriend!” Cynikka screeched from the gate.

“Shut up, Cyn!” Flux barked back. “He’s my servant. It’s his duty!”

“Leave him alone, Cyn,” Ender scolded—then quietly added, “Don’t interrupt them.”

Flux ignored them all and turned back to Thomas.

“I’ll treat this as a token of your friendship. Thank you for your gift.”

Thomas blushed so hard he might as well have been sunburnt. “N-no problem.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye-bye..!”

Flux could still remember that dandelion as if it was still freshly plucked into his hands today. 

How could he have not recognised him?

Saps’ immediate burst of laughter brought Flux straight back into the present day and his neat little flower shop. 

“He moved back here this month,” Saps said, wiping an imaginary tear. “I literally told you this, like, a week ago.”

Flux blinked. Thought back. Not a single neuron fired. 

“I was probably busy—fuck—” He dragged a hand down his face. “It’s fine. He didn’t seem to remember me either.”

“Oh yeah, no,” Saps snorted. “He totally remembers you, dude. I ran into him a few days ago and he asked about you.”

“Are you serious?” Flux was gobsmacked. “What did he say?”

Saps shrugged. “‘How’s Flux doing?’ Real casual.”

Flux dropped his face into his hands.

“Oh god. I was genuinely flirting with him,” he muttered. “Why would he pretend not to know me?”

“Hey, I’m not him,” Saps said, hands raised. “Go ask him yourself.”

Flux straightened, jaw tightening. “Maybe I will.”

Saps blinked. “What?”

Flux crossed his arms. “He made me look stupid, Saps.”

“That’s not—okay, I mean, you did flirt with him without recognising him—”

“That’s not the point,” Flux cut him off, gritting his teeth. “He remembered me. He could’ve said something.”

Saps stared at him for a beat. “Are you really going to storm the tattoo parlor at, like, 2 PM on a Tuesday?”

Flux gestured vaguely around the store. “Shop’s empty.”

“Damn,” Saps sighed.

Flux did not storm across the street—he wasn’t that unhinged—but he did march across the street with the vigor of someone who might have had somewhere extremely important to be and was running extremely late. 

It was partially true. Although, the real truth was that if he slowed down, even a little, he’d start thinking, and thinking rationally would inevitably lead to turning around, and Flux was currently committed to one thing: getting some damn answers and saving his pride. 

He pushed open the door of the tattoo parlor.

And immediately regretted every decision that had led to this moment.

The shop wasn’t empty.

At all.

Thomas was in the middle of working on someone, leaning slightly over his client with the kind of steady, practiced attention Flux absolutely was not prepared for. His expression was focused, hard, nothing like the tiny kid Flux used to boss around on the playground. It threw him off worse than the machine’s buzzing.

Flux froze, losing almost all his vigor, and then executed the world’s stiffest walk toward the waiting couch. He sat, folding his hands then unfolding them. He tried crossing his legs, and then uncrossed them, because suddenly everything part of his body felt unnatural. Now, he really missed the quietness of his own store and the smell of mixed flowery scents. 

Thomas hadn’t looked at him yet. Thank god. Or… maybe not thank god, because that left Flux alone with his thoughts and an older Thomas too near him. His mind started to wander, to observe him carefully, to trace any sort of resemblance to the kid he once knew. But just seeing him from the back, besides his hair and skin, Flux simply couldn’t link them together. 

He was obviously older, and taller. Much taller. Taller than Flux, where he used to be the towering one, and in totality, way more put-together. There was an ease in the way he moved, a confidence Flux couldn’t recall at all. Was that always there and Flux had shut it down with his own whining? Or was that something that simply along the way with each new tattoo Flux was never there for?

To stop staring like a freak and hold onto his anger, Flux shifted on the couch, trying to read the framed flash sheets on the wall but not actually absorbing any of it. 

He remembered me but didn’t tell me. And I flirted. Like an idiot. Oh my god.

Eventually, the buzzing switched off. Flux startled. 

Thomas wrapped up with his client—cleaned up, talked through aftercare, took payment. All of it took maybe a few minutes, but Flux could just feel them drag on. Between each step, Thomas glanced over once, just briefly, with this tiny, surprised flicker in his eyes that made Flux’s stomach twist.

Finally, Thomas peeled off his gloves, tossed them in the trash, wiped his hands, and walked over.

Flux sat up straighter. Way too straight. Like he wasn’t the queerest man on Earth. 

“Hey,” Thomas said softly, almost cautious. “Sorry for the wait. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I know who you are,” Flux cut straight to the chase.

It definitely came out more intense than intended but at least his voice didn’t crack. He was taking that as a win.

Thomas blinked, caught completely off guard. “Uh—yeah? I mean, I did kind of imply I was gay earlier, so—”

“No,” Flux snapped. “I mean I remember who you are. Thomas An.”

“Oh.” The flush hit Thomas instantly. “Right. Yeah. That’s… me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Flux demanded. “Were you trying to embarrass me?”

“What? No! Never.” Thomas’s ears went red, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “If anything, I was embarrassed. I mean—I used to have a massive crush on you…”

Flux’s face lit up like he’d been dropped into a microwave, his entire soul combusting like metal in it. 

‘Used to.’

“I’m sorry,” Thomas continued nervously. “I should’ve just told you. I didn’t want you to think I was some creepy weirdo who remembered everything about you.”

Flux rolled his eyes. “…I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas muttered. “I guess part of me kinda wanted a fresh start, too?”

“You should’ve just told me.” Flux huffed. “I wouldn’t have run away or something.”

Thomas winced. “…I’m sorry. Really. Let me make it up to you. I’ll take you out. As an apology.”

Flux narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking me on a date right now?”

“N–no!” Thomas choked. “Just like—catch up. If Saps wants to come too.”

Flux died inside.

Absolutely perished.

Turned to dust on the spot.

“…Sure,” Flux said tightly. “I’ll ask him.”

They stood there in painfully thick silence for a full minute. Flux stared at Thomas like he was trying to decipher some hidden runes. Thomas looked like he was about to overheat.

“So… uh,” Thomas tried, “do you wanna go to that diner we used to pass? If it’s still open… The, um—”

“Yeah,” Flux said quickly. “‘Course. Sounds good.”

“Friday evening? After work?” Thomas asked, hopeful.

Flux nodded, trying very hard not to blush any more than he already was. “Yeah. That works.”

Thomas actually laughed—nervous, breathless. “Okay. Cool. We could walk together from the store. Maybe meet Saps there?”

“Totally,” Flux said, voice cracking just a little.

He wasn’t freaking out, nor was he excited at all. Flux was just glad to finally have that whole situation cleared up! And have a future thrilling evening with Thomas at a diner planned now. With Saps too. For some god forsaken reason.

Flux spent Friday afternoon switching between mild excitement and abject terror, which made getting ready take twice as long as it needed to. He kept reminding himself that Saps would be there—a buffer, a witness, a human shield. That helped. Sort of.

Then, an hour before he was supposed to meet Thomas, a brand-new group chat popped up on his phone: 

DINER SQUAD 🍔🔥

And two seconds later…

saps: hey guys i got totally sick cant go sorry ://

Flux stared at his screen in horror. Saps was perfectly healthy this morning. This was sabotage. Intentional sabotage.

And then after another two seconds later, in Flux’s private chats…

saps: go bag your man king

Now, Flux had to spend the entire evening alone with Thomas, which was perfect and exactly what he wanted in the first place. But, that also meant that he would have to spend the entire evening alone with Thomas!

No problem. 

Just alone.

With Thomas “5200” An.

Flux stared at his screen in horror. He wanted to dripstone himself. 

He didn’t even have time to respond before Thomas leaned in the doorway, hands in his jacket pockets, smiling like he hadn’t just walked out of Flux’s childhood memories and turned into a fully grown problem.

“You ready?”

Flux absolutely was not.

But he nodded anyway.

“Damn, I hope Saps is okay,” Thomas said, finally reading the text of the new group chat as they started down the street. 

“He’ll be fine,” Flux said with a long sigh. “He’s survived worse.”

The early evening light washed the pavement gold, the quiet hum of stores closing-up filling the street. Flux shoved his hands into the front pocket of his overalls, suddenly hyperaware of everything about himself.

“Wish I changed out of my overalls,” Flux muttered. “I must just smell… plants. Dirt. Fertiliser. Whatever.”

Thomas shrugged. “It’s cute.”

Flux nearly tripped. 

“Seriously?” he blurted, hoping his voice didn’t crack as much as it felt like it did.

Thomas turned a little pink, suddenly mirroring Flux’s fluster. “Well—I mean, it’s funny. In a cute way.”

Flux squinted skeptically. “Funny, how?”

Thomas the side of his cheek. “It just… contrasts your whole vibe, you know? Your family must’ve really rubbed off on you.”

Flux blinked, genuinely taken aback. “You still remember them?”

“Yeah, of course,” Thomas said, smiling softly. “For someone who claimed to hate them so much, you sure talked about them a bunch. Ender, Cynikka, Mr. Elanulo and Mr. Crow—”

Flux groaned into his hands. “That’s so stupid.”

Thomas laughed, reaching out like he was going to touch Flux’s arm in reassurance, then chickened out halfway and turned it into a weird ‘easy, easy’ motion. 

“It’s fine! I liked listening. Really.”

Flux peeked through his fingers. “I still don’t understand what you saw in me.”

“Oh, you had a personality,” Thomas teased, cheeks pinking. “And I was… sort of a mess back then.”

“You weren’t a mess!” Flux cut in, way faster than he wanted to. “I mean, I only have good memories of us.”

Thomas blinked, surprise flickering across his face. “You remember us a lot?”

“Ugh, of course I do,” Flux muttered, rubbing at his nose. “I was… kind of an obnoxious little tyrant.”

Thomas burst out laughing. “You weren’t that bad.”

“I called you my servant.”

“It was roleplay,” Thomas insisted, his grin widening. “We were dumb kids.”

Flux eyed him. “Then how did you put up with it? Actually—no, better question: why did you put up with it?”

Thomas gave a helpless, hopeless shrug. “I mean… if you remember correctly, I did more than just ‘put up’ with it.”

“Okay, sorry!” Flux said with painful self-awareness. “Why did you like listening to my annoying eight-year-old self?”

Thomas laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck like the answer should’ve been obvious.

“I mean… you were fun,” he said. “Loud. Bossy. Weirdly dramatic for someone under four feet tall.”

“You were shorter than me,” Flux huffed. 

Thomas grinned, pointedly looking down at Flux. “Doesn’t seem like that matters much anymore.”

Flux glared. “Do not make this a thing.”

“Fine, fine,” Thomas relinquished, still grinning as he slowed down to a stop. “It looks like we’re about here anyway.”

Lo and behold, they had actually arrived. The small diner did not look that much different than it had from all those years ago. Posters still plastered the walls with events that had long since ended and bands that had long since disbanded, and the front steps before the entrance still had missing beams in the railings that the owners just never bothered to fix. 

However, its lights were still as warm as welcoming as before, the smell of freshly cooked meals exuding outwards as they opened the door. 

“After you,” Thomas said with a cheeky smirk, gesturing his hand out.

Flux scoffed, but strode in first anyway. 

Despite being right near their old school, Flux had never really gone inside much before. It was simply a landmark on his way too and back from school, so he didn’t really know what to expect on the inside. 

It had the typical homely atmosphere that you’d expect from any kind of diner: small and quaint, very cozy. Perfect for a close family dinner, or a long conversation. 

The two of them ended up sitting down at a booth in a corner. Less distractions that way and quiet enough to hear each other over clinking of plates and cutlery. 

“Did you come here often as a kid?” Flux asked as they sat down. 

Thomas shrugged. “Occasionally, with my brother when our parents weren’t home to cook.” 

Flux tilted his head. “They weren’t home often?”

What a strong question, Flux!

Luckily, Thomas only laughed breezily. 

“Eh, sometimes,” Thomas responded. “Their jobs required them to move around a lot, so you know…”

Flux nodded. “Explains why you left.”

Thomas hesitated, a brief moment too long for Flux to notice. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. 

Flux furrowed his brows, frowning. 

But soon then, the menus arrived and they took their orders. Some light meals for easy conversation. Once the waiter left, Flux spoke up again, trying to lighten the mood. 

“So, catch-up, right?” Flux’s eyes glinted. “Tell me, where’d all those tattoos come from?” 

Thomas blinked, then laughed a little shyly.

“Oh, those? Uh… they kind of just… happened.”

Flux raised an eyebrow. “People don’t ‘just happen’ into being covered in art.”

Thomas rested his arms on the table—which was a mistake, because that brought the ink right into Flux’s line of sight. Up close, the colors were richer, the lines sharper, the details much clearer and way more notable. Maybe he should have expected it a little, considering the amount of times he used to demand Thomas draw more flowers. 

“I apprenticed at a studio when I was sixteen,” Thomas explained. “Picked up a needle eventually. Picked up a few tattoos too. Occupational hazard.”

Flux snorted. “Hazard? They look good.”

Thomas’s ears turned pink. “Thanks. I, uh… tried to design stuff that meant something.”

Flux’s curiosity sharpened instantly. “Oh?”

“Well, like the snake,” Thomas said, touching his forearm. “It’s a—”

Flux didn’t even notice his hand moving until it was already there.

He brushed the edge of the snake’s tail, fingertips skimming the darker shading near Thomas’s wrist.

“Oh,” Flux murmured. “It’s… smooth? I thought it’d be more… textured.”

Thomas went still for a second, then let out a small breath.

Flux blinked, realizing he was still touching him, and pulled his hand back quickly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—uh. Sorry.”

Thomas shook his head, a faint smile warming the edges of his expression.

“It’s fine. They’re meant to be looked at.”

Flux stared very firmly at the menu. “Don’t say it like that.”

Thomas huffed a quiet laugh. “Alright, alright.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking.

“If you’re ever interested, I could do one for you. Something simple. If you want.”

Flux looked up, startled but not overwhelmed. “A tattoo? Really?”

“Yeah,” Thomas said, lifting his forearm just a little. “No pressure. Just… offering.”

Flux’s stomach did a weird flip.

“Right,” he muttered. “A tattoo. On me.”

Thomas laughed under his breath. 

“I can keep it simple. Something small. Won’t have to show unless you want it to.” He paused. “Only if you want it.”

Flux stared at the salt shaker, like it might give him advice.

His pulse was doing far too much for something that was just… needles. Ink.

And Thomas’s hands.

On him.

His mouth went dry.

He didn’t know which thing he was more afraid of. 

“I don’t know…” Flux murmured. “What would I even get?”

Thomas leveled him with a look.

“You’re telling me the flower shop owner doesn’t know what kind of tattoo he would get?”

Flux huffed, defeated.

“Fine. I’m just—kind of nervous, alright?”

Thomas’s features softened.

“Hey. I’ll be there the whole time. You won’t even have room to freak out.”

What Thomas didn’t know was that he was part of the problem.

“Okay…” Flux said finally. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Great!” Thomas lit up. “Come over sometime with design ideas and stuff—”

“I can’t believe you turned our ‘catch-up’ into a business ordeal.”

“Hey, it’s on the house,” Thomas said, hands raised. “Since I offered and all…”

Flux couldn’t stop the grin. “Can’t say no to that. You’re truly a gentleman.”

Thomas smirked, a touch pink in the cheeks. “Always have been for you, am I right?”

Flux’s face ignited like a Christmas tree.

“You did not just say that.”

“Too fitting not to,” Thomas said, still smirking.

The rest of the evening went on with little to no more hindrances. 

Flux listened to Thomas’s stories quite , nodding with genuine utmost interest. He learnt about the various places Thomas had bounced around, to and from, the many people had met (Gray in particular had stood out for her rather unique personality), and how he had become a damn gym bro. 

In turn, Flux shared his own personal stories, ones about the shenanigans he had got up to with a group of friends, how ended up rooming with Saps (it was a reluctant decision, he swore), and how his siblings were doing. 

He never moved, so he didn’t think it was as exciting as Thomas’s adventures were. When he voiced this, however, Thomas only placed his hand lightly over Flux’s, returning the same amount of enthusiasm. The touch made Flux’s chest flutter, his smile warming his chest in a way that only the sun could rival. 

It was nice. Really nice, to simply talk to Thomas.

Later that night, Flux returned to his apartment with a very not sick Saps on the couch. 

“So, how did it go?” Saps asked, tilting his head from his phone with a stupid grin.

“Fine,” Flux said with a shrug, despite his heart rate still totally racing. “I’m getting a free tattoo in a month.”

“You’re what?”

Over the course of the month, Flux had visited Thomas’s shop a few times to discuss his upcoming tattoo. Nothing crazy had happened (somewhat unfortunately), as it was mostly Flux getting way too into the topic of an array of flowers and being astonished by Thomas’s artistic talent.

While, obviously, Thomas was going to be incredible with designs, it was much more impressive to simply watch him work, as Flux was learning what seemed to be his own particular tastes. 

The barely noticeable crinkle in his brow, the way his shoulders tensed slightly as he began to sketch, was rather… mesmerising, to say the least. 

And every time Flux thought he was going off into another useless and irrelevant tangent, Thomas simply shrugged with his usual bright smile, one too familiar now. One that Flux could start to really see the resemblance to that young boy he knew. 

“Like I said,” Thomas would smile, “you’re fun to listen to.”

Flux had blushed, biting his own smile.

“‘Course I am,” he had said, but really, the comments Thomas made never quite left his mind. 

Which is why now, currently, at this very instance, Flux felt completely and utterly serene, tranquil even.

The needle was one thing. Ink being pierced into his pure and precious and pristine skin over and over again, sounded absolutely horrendous. Torturous. How he was going to handle that without screaming his head off at every tiny jab, he was not sure. 

And worse, while Thomas’s presence was meant to be calming, Flux only ever felt his heart rate increase exponentially every time he was around him. 

If he had to be hunched over him with that usual condescending focus in his eyes, his very beautiful brown eyes, gods what a view, but also, fuck, what a view! Flux didn’t think he was making it out of the parlor alive.

So, despite Flux being very satisfied with his design choice and had come to terms with the idea of having it permanently attached to his body, he was in fact, currently freaking out. 

When he arrived at the parlor, Flux could feel his stomach drop like he was on a roller coaster at the sight of the inside again. 

Thomas noticed him immediately, stepping out from behind his counter to greet Flux. 

“You looking forward to it?”

Flux winced before he could help himself. “No. Not really. Not at all.”

“Don’t worry,” Thomas put his hand on Flux’s shoulder. “I’m used to having jittery customers, you’re safe in my hands.”

Okay, while the idea of being in Thomas’s hands was absolutely delightful, having needles being poked into his body at the same time was absolutely not. 

“Whatever you say,” Flux sighed, though it came out shaky. 

Thomas nodded, leading Flux nearer the back of the parlor where the station was. 

It looked… terrifying, frankly. Like walking into a dentist’s office, but definitely a bit cozier without the painstaking white walls. At least in Thomas’s parlor, posters of his own various works scattered the walls, as well as a few music artists he might’ve been into (seriously, was that Laufey? He’d have to ask about that later…). It felt very personalised, very Thomas, in a way that made Flux feel a little less like he was about to be executed. 

Flux sat down hesitantly, very hesitantly, leaning back into the seat with most apprehension. 

“Just relax there while I set up all your stuff,” Thomas said easily, heading over to a corner of the room.

Wow, way easier said than done. Reverse psychology, much? Because Flux only felt his nerves getting worse. 

Luckily, Thomas had started humming to himself, very faintly, very nicely as he prepared his weapons (tools). It was a song Flux didn’t know, but just barely recognised from a mall or coming from Saps’ damn TikTok ‘For You’ page. 

Flux’s curiosity spiked.

“Is that a Laufey song?”

Thomas paused, then laughed. “Yeah, you a fan?”

“No,” Flux answered, gesturing vaguely to the left. “She’s on your wall.”

“Oh yeah,” Thomas glanced at the poster and smiled. “Calming, isn’t she?”

“I suppose,” Flux replied, sinking himself further into the chair. 

Maybe Flux was too quick to bash on Thomas’s methods, because he was actually starting to feel the slightest bit more at ease. It could have been the power of Laufey’s music coming through to calm his nerves, or maybe it was simply the sound of Thomas’s voice. 

Thomas finished prepping the machine, then turned back to Flux with that calm, steady smile that had absolutely no right to be so comforting. 

Yeah, sorry Laufey, Thomas takes this one. 

“Alright,” he said, rolling his stool over. “Let me see your shoulder.”

Flux exhaled through his nose and tugged his shirt lower off his shoulder. His fingers felt clumsy, like his own skin had suddenly become too hot despite the damn freezer they were sitting in.

“I’m gonna clean it first, if that’s okay?” Thomas said, holding up the cloth. “It’s gonna be pretty cold, just so you know.”

“This whole room is cold,” Flux hissed as the cloth made contact. 

It was a shocking, biting cold that shot straight through him. He couldn’t stop the shudder that followed. Thomas’s fingers steadied him, warm where the cloth wasn’t, and Flux hated how instantly that grounded him.

Thomas offered a light laugh, gentle, not mocking, before focusing again. 

When he picked up the stencil, Flux caught the soft rustle of the paper. A few marigold petals, delicate and scattered, waited to be transferred to his skin. Thomas’s thumb brushed one of the petals a moment longer than the rest, light but precise, and Flux had to fight the urge to inadvertently lean into it.

“Marigold, huh?” Thomas had said with a smile a few weeks earlier, when Flux had chosen it. 

“It’s based on my birth month,” Flux had answered a beat too quickly. “October.”

“They’re beautiful,” Thomas had nodded, sketching a few concept drafts before bringing the final version over.

Now, Thomas pressed the stencil against Flux’s shoulder, smoothing along each petal with practiced fingers. The ink was cool, the pressure warm. When he peeled the sheet away, a faint purple outline remained. 

Flux stared at the marigold ghost-pattern on his skin, pulse thudding.

The machine finally buzzed to life with a sharp, electric whirr that vibrated straight through Flux’s spine. His stomach tightened. Thomas didn’t miss it.

“The first line is always the worst,” he said quietly, positioning himself beside Flux. His voice stayed steady, grounded. “You ready?”

Flux gave the weakest shrug imaginable. “Sure.”

Thomas’s hand settled lightly on Flux’s shoulder, not quite lingering, just reassuring in that maddeningly gentle way he somehow had. “Deep breath.”

Flux took one, despite the alarm bells screaming in his mind at the hand still on his shoulder. 

The needle touched skin.

It wasn’t the worst pain in the world, but it was sharp and immediate. Flux’s entire body tensed against it. Thomas worked in smooth, controlled motions, careful not to pull or drag with whatever insane contraption he had in his hands. Each time he paused to wipe away ink, his touch was so careful it made Flux’s pulse stutter. 

“You’re doing great,” he said, tone even, like he said to every client. He probably did, it wasn’t a special nor unique phrase. Flux most likely would have not have felt reassured if it was coming from any other person in the world, but it managed to land differently coming from Thomas. Somehow, he kind of believed it. 

“Feels like an extended vaccine shot. But also, repeatedly being stabbed with it.”

Thomas huffed a small laugh. “You have a way with words, Fluixon.”

The minutes moved in a steady rhythm. The buzz of the machine, the wipe of a cloth, his own deep breaths, they all looped over together in one blur. 

Thomas stayed focused, expression softened by concentration, and Flux found himself relaxing despite the sting. The pain ebbed into something manageable, almost meditative, especially with Thomas’s calm presence just inches away. 

When the machine finally clicked off, Flux blinked at the sudden quiet.

“All done,” Thomas said, wiping the tattoo one last time. “You handled it really well.”

Flux looked down at the marigold petals, its image tender, reddened around the edges, and entirely beautiful. All his doubts surrounding tattoos immediately dissipated at that. Seeing it on him, it was something he was completely satisfied to have etched to his skin permanently. 

Thomas wrapped the tattoo carefully, his fingers deft and gentle, the warmth of his touch lingering even after he pulled back. His fingertips followed the curve of Flux’s shoulder as he smoothed the bandage, a barely-there motion that somehow set Flux’s breath off rhythm once more.

“It suits you,” he said with a small smile.

Flux swallowed. 

Maybe it was the way Thomas’s hand had been the last thing he felt, so steady and almost annoyingly reassuring, but something bold loosened in his chest.

Before he had the chance to second-guess himself, he heard his own voice saying, 

“Do you… want to go out sometime?”

Thomas paused mid-reach, eyebrows lifting. Then a soft laugh escaped him, taken aback as his face began to warm.

“Wow. You’re really asking me right now?”

Flux shrugged, trying for casualness and landing somewhere near terrified. “I just got a tattoo. I feel like I can do anything.”

Thomas’s smile deepened, slow and undeniably fond, despite his tinted cheeks. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

The sun was low, nearing dark as streaks of clouds seemed to disperse from the skies above. Flux kind of wished that he could do the same currently. 

He stood outside the movie theatre, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t palpitating out of his chest and he hadn’t been rereading the ticket over and over again in his hands. It was just to make sure it was real, and that this was still, in fact, happening. 

This time, on their real date, Flux had actually changed out of his work overalls and smelled actually decent. He had a leather jacket over a white T-shirt and a couple loose chained necklaces hanging around his neck. He’d even put a few silver rings over his mechanical hand as well, just to really show-off. 

He’d hoped to god that he was not the only one going overboard for a movie theatre date, but Flux really could not help himself. 

His phone buzzed from his pants pocket. 

saps: good luck lover boy o7

Flux rolled his eyes, but he could feel the smile creeping in anyway. He typed back.

fluixon: it’s just a movie lol

Another buzz, instantly.

saps: sure. 

saps: tell that to our apartment that smells entirely of cologne now

fluixon: my bad

saps: what movie u watchin btw

fluixon: some random horror movie

saps: 👀👀👀

saps: i see what ur doing

Flux felt himself flush in real life, glancing around as if someone was going to be leaning his shoulder and adamantly watching this embarrassing conversation. 

For a movie date, the horror movie was easily the best option. Flux wouldn’t say he was someone who was easily scared, especially not by horror movies, but the atmosphere of the theatre was perfectly primed for the accidental huddling together in the dark, without the embarrassing look on each others’ faces causing them to pussy out or something. 

fluixon: in my defense, it was his idea.

saps: what it called

He checked the ticket again, just to make sure it was still physically in his hands. 

fluixon: Five Nights At Freddy’s

Weirdly enough, that made Saps stop typing for a second. Full on pause, which was very unlike him. Flux raised an eyebrow at his own screen. 

saps: wait r u srs

saps: bro 💀💀

saps: THAT MOVIE IS ASS

His heart dropped. Flux stared at the message, anxiety immediately pooling into his stomach. 

fluixon: AREYOU FR????

saps: WELL ITS AN ASS HORROR MOVIE

saps: dude y didnt u consult me first 😭😭

fluixon: bro

Thanks a lot Saps, because if Flux wasn’t nervous before, now he was about to have a complete crisis. He could already feel the sweat seeping into his clothes now. His beautiful clothes, perfectly attuned for this date, were going to be ruined. 

God, how could he be such an idiot? Why didn’t he look at the reviews first?

saps: it’s gonna be ok

saps: just think of it as a comedy instead??

Flux sighed, resisting the urge to throw his phone and his life away from this. 

Then, the dreadful, all too familiar voice called out beside him. 

“Howdy Flux.” Thomas greeted. And before Flux could question Thomas’s diction, he was suddenly gobsmacked by Thomas’s choice of wardrobe. 

He was wearing a tight sleeveless shirt, very perfectly sculpted to him, mind you, and very much revealing those perfectly sculpted shoulders as well. Flux would’ve been concerned about the chilliness of the theatre itself, but then he noticed the dark flannel also wrapped around Thomas’s hips. 

So, serving and practical. Flux could respect a man like that, and also be very overwhelmingly attracted to him. At least Flux wasn’t the only one ‘overdressed’ for a movie date. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Flux couldn’t help but blurt out at this point. He would be embarrassed, but he figured he had embarrassed himself enough in front of Thomas over the course of their reunion. 

Thankfully, Thomas laughed. A surprised and slightly shy laugh. 

“What happened to ‘hello’?”

“You threw that honour out the window with your ‘howdy,’” Flux said, crossing his arms. 

Thomas grinned. “How may I ever regain your favour?”

Flux pretended to ponder briefly. “You can start with complimenting me in return.”

Thomas chuckled. “Oh, I was going to. I’ve got to say, I was taken aback by your choice of aesthetic. I was too stunned to come up to you at first.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Can you really blame me when you pulled up to a movie theatre date looking like that?” Thomas defined himself, before adding, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Flux blushed. “Hypocrite. Don’t you think you’re a little ‘overdressed’ yourself?”

“Like I said, not that I’m complaining.” 

“That’s not quite a compliment yet.”

“Apologies,” Thomas said with a smirk. “You look ravishing.”

Flux raised an eyebrow, but he felt himself turn red. “No one says that.”

“Would you prefer your own words?” Thomas asked, still grinning. “Sorry, you look really hot too.”

Flux blinked, his face feeling like it just burst into flames. 

“…Shut up.” He grumbled, storming past Thomas and towards the entrance of the theatre. 

Thomas followed after him, catching up in a few easy strides before pulling open the door like it was second nature. Flux pretended not to notice how smooth that was. It seemed that Thomas had kind of always been like that, ever since they were kids. A gentleman. Flux tried not to let his thoughts linger on how much he liked that (he failed). 

When they handed over their tickets, Flux’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath. “I forgot to tell you… I just found out the movie is apparently ass.”

Thomas glanced at him as they stepped into the dark hallway. “Hey, we both picked it without knowing. No harm done.”

Inside the theatre, Flux and Thomas scooched themselves into the back seats, which they had gotten in hope of getting the best view of a great movie. However, considering the film choice it was honestly not worth it. 

The movie playing in front of them indeed felt like a crime. Absolutely harm done. For sure. 

Perhaps it would have been good for anyone else who knew of the franchise and its history, but for a date? Totally not worth the extra price paid for their seats. 

Flux leaned toward Thomas’s side, avoiding the popcorn between them and whispering,“God, this movie is so shit. I’m so sorry.”

Thomas huffed a laugh. “It’s fine. Honestly? It’s kind of funny.”

Flux cracked a smile at that. “So… laughably bad?”

“Yeah, don’t you think?” 

Flux shrugged. “You have a way to see the bright side of things, huh?”

“I try,” Thomas said, flashing him that crooked grin. “It’s a long-time strategy.”

Flux nudged him lightly. “Is that what you saw in little old me?”

“Somehow, I figured you out.” Thomas’s voice softened. “I mean, you own a flower shop. What says more care than that?”

Flux narrowed his eyes. “What card are you trying to pull on me right now?”

“Just complimenting you even more.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly, the person in front of them snapped their head around. They looked at the two of them with the most lethal expression on their face, and gave the harshest ‘SHHHHHH’ known to man before snapping their head back to the film. 

It was some random elderly woman a couple seats in front of them. Could have been anywhere from 70 to 120 years old. What was someone her age doing at the FNAF movie anyway? And how were her ears even good enough to hear them in the back? She should mind her own damn business. 

Flux rolled his eyes, grumbling as he sank into his seat. But before he could lament about it too long, he felt an arm slither around his own back.

Okay, admiring them from afar was one thing, but having Thomas actively wrap an arm around Flux? To feel every inch of hard-earned muscle pressed against his shoulders. Flux might’ve short-circuited then and there. 

Flux paused, feeling blood rush to his face as he glanced at Thomas. 

“Someone’s cranky,” Thomas commented, but his eyes were staring straight at the screen, pointedly looking away from Flux and red dusting his cheeks. 

Flux leaned into it absentmindedly, trying to pretend it didn’t mean as much as it did. 

As he did so, his gaze caught something dark just behind Thomas’s ear. A smudge of ink he hadn’t noticed before. Curiosity tugged at him.

Without thinking, he reached up and brushed Thomas’s hair back, fingertips grazing warm skin.

Thomas stiffened slightly, breath catching.

Flux blinked at the tiny tattoo revealed there. In small but bold characters, ‘5200.’ Oh he was so going to abuse that fact in the future. 

“Another one of your secrets from me during our time apart?” Flux asked, a playful smile on his lips. 

Thomas leaned back slowly, letting his hair fall into place again.

“You know me. Man of mystery.”

Flux hummed. “Right. I’m so sorry you had to pick me as your first friend.”

Thomas snorted. “Pick you? You picked me.”

Flux blinked. “I did?”

“I was the new kid,” Thomas said, lowering his voice, eyes softening in the dim theatre light. “You chose me as your target. I just went along with it.”

Flux elbowed him. “Your own fault then.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Thomas murmured. “No regrets.”

Flux gave him a look. “You have zero self-respect.”

“Hey, I was a kid. I was just glad someone wanted me around. Moving all the time doesn’t exactly give you a lot of chances.”

Thomas’s voice softened at the last part.

Flux’s expression turned gentle. 

“Well… I’m glad you’re staying here now.” He paused. “I want you.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, the smirk returning. “You want me?”

Flux felt heat rocket to his ears. He rolled his eyes. 

“Seems like you have zero respect for me as well.”

“Oh, I have plenty of respect for you.”

Flux opened his mouth to respond, but was immediately cut off by the elderly woman in front, whipping her head around again. 

“Will you two shut up already?”

Flux held up a middle finger instinctively.

Thomas stifled a laugh and lowered his voice further. “Guess we should start whispering like this now, huh?”

Flux nodded. “Yeah, if you can still hear me fine over the loudass movie.”

“I’ve never had any trouble paying attention to you,” Thomas murmured.

Flux scoffed. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“I’m not sure,” Thomas whispered. “Maybe if you leaned in a little closer, I could hear you better.”

Flux rolled his eyes but he obliged, leaning in closer anyway.

“You’re lucky I do prefer this view.” 

Thomas smirked faintly. “How so?”

Flux tilted his head toward him. “You’re pretty appealing to look at. But I don’t take orders very easily.”

Thomas huffed a soft laugh. “Both things I know. Our reunion was… quite a surprise.”

Flux tried to respond again, but in front of them once more, the same damn lady practically screamed, “SHUT. UP.”

Flux groaned dramatically and flipped her off again halfheartedly. 

When he sank back into his seat, Thomas leaned close to Flux’s ear. 

“If they’re bothering you so much,” Thomas murmured, Flux shuddering at the air brushing his ear, “I know a little action that would shut us both up.”

Flux nearly choked, whipping his head toward him. His ears burned.

“…Are you trying to kiss me, Thomas?”

“Consider it a compromise.”

Flux paused. Then, after a fraction of a thought, he felt a smirk widen on his face as he regained his composure. 

“I don’t know…” He whispered back. “I think I’m really enjoying the FNAF movie.”

Thomas nudged him with his shoulder. “Look who’s being a tease now.”

“Please, this is barely anything.”

“Oh?” Thomas leaned in, eyes glinting. “Should I be scared?”

Flux hummed. “Depends. You scared of losing your dignity in a public theatre?”

“Only if you plan to take it from me.”

Flux choked on a laugh. “Oh my god.”

Thomas grinned. “What? You started it.”

Flux inclined himself forward, close enough to feel Thomas’s breath hitch.

“You’re being so loud right now.” Flux whispered back with his own devious smile. 

Thomas bit his bottom lip. “I think I need help fixing that.” 

“I think you do.”

Flux grinned once before he grabbed Thomas’s collar and they immediately started snogging.

The empty popcorn box was tossed hazardly onto the floor as Thomas slid his arm from Flux’s shoulder to the back of his head, tugging on his hair to bring him closer. Flux sighed against Thomas’s mouth at the motion, trailing his own hands up to the back of Thomas’s neck. 

It was probably stupid and, for sure, completely impulsive, but at the moment, they didn’t really care. 

Definitely not the most gracious nor glamorous make out session in the world, being a little sloppy and ever so slightly less than romantic, especially with something like the FNAF movie playing in the background. But, Flux would be lying if he said he wasn’t having the time of his life right now. 

It should’ve been awkward, considering the angles they were both sitting in with their legs still somewhat facing the projection and being entrapped by their movie seats. But the way Thomas was actively fighting to keep them together, using his other hand to hold onto Flux’s hip and press their bodies together, well, damn. How could Flux not enjoy that?

As they kissed, Flux couldn’t help but let his hands trace down from Thomas’s chest and roam across Thomas’s arms, feeling the muscles there so fervently. Maybe even the occasional squeeze, sue him. Turns out he didn’t really need to flannel, Flux supposed. 

It didn’t seem like Thomas minded too much either as Flux could feel his stupid grin widen against his own mouth at the touch, his grip tightening against Flux’s hip.

Flux wasn’t sure how long they kept at it. It was messy, unappealing to anyone else, and completely derailed from anything resembling subtlety and truly, neither of them could care any less. 

Thomas tugged gently on his hair again and Flux let out a noise he would absolutely deny ever making but then—

The ungodly sound of Balloon Boy’s jumpscare reverberated throughout the entire theatre, scaring the living daylights out of them both. 

Both of them lurched like they’d been stabbed. 

Flux jerked so hard his teeth snapped shut, right onto Thomas’s tongue.

Thomas yelped, recoiling instantly while Flux practically fell backwards into his seat.

“Oh my god—Thomas, I didn’t—I wasn’t—shit, are you okay?” Flux whispered harshly, hands grabbing at Thomas’s shoulders like he could undo the damage with sheer panic.

Thomas held a hand over his mouth, his eyes watering.

“I—” He winced. “You bit me.”

“It was the jumpscare!” Flux hissed back. “Balloon Boy assaulted me and I panicked!”

From in front of them, the elderly woman whipped her head around so fast Flux was genuinely impressed she didn’t snap it.

“Never in my—” she began, every wrinkle vibrating with fury.

Flux cut her off by flipping her off again, this time with both hands because the moment had already gone to hell. 

“Lady, trust me, we’re leaving!”

Thomas snorted through the pain, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. “Let’s get out of here.”

Flux grabbed Thomas’s wrist and yanked him up from his seat. “Great idea. Perfect idea. Fantastic idea. I’m never watching a FNAF movie again.”

Thomas stood, his tongue hanging weakly from his mouth pathetically. 

“I agree.” He said, but it came out barely comprehensible. 

They slipped out of the theatre, hastily making their escape back to the outside world. It was fully dark now, the streets quieter and only lit up by the lamposts across the sidewalks. Flux shivered, dropping Thomas’s wrist and wrapping his jacket more firmly around himself. 

“I’m so sorry, I cannot believe my first kiss with you got ruined by that fucking creature.” Flux lamented, putting his head in his hands. 

Thomas nudged him softly with his shoulder, a small grin forming despite everything. “Which one? Balloon boy or the lady?”

Flux’s jaw went slack, but then he grinned. “You’re diabolical.”

Thomas shrugged as he started pulling his flannel around himself. “Technically, I think you ruined it.”

The grin immediately fell from Flux’s face (at both the loss of the view and the comment). “I hope your tongue stays numb forever.”

“Worth it.” Thomas replied, smiling even wider. 

Flux’s ears went bright red. “We’re never talking about this again.”

“Sure,” Thomas said, brushing their fingers together on purpose. “Whatever you say.”

“At least hold my hand for real if you’re going to be an asshole about it,” Flux huffed. 

Surprisingly, that’s what got Thomas to flush in return. It was Flux’s turn to grin at that, cataloguing that information in his mind to save for later. 

Thomas nodded in response, linking their hands together easily, albeit shyly. Flux squeezed his hand just to tease. 

“May I walk you home?” Thomas asked. “You know… seeing as we’re ending the night a little earlier.”

“Yes,” Flux said immediately. “Let’s go through the park.”

“Someone’s eager.” Thomas chuckled. 

Flux gave him a deadpan look. “We were making out five seconds ago.”

Thomas offered Flux another one of his stupid shrugs in response. Flux only rolled his eyes, and they began making their way toward the park.

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the cool night air settling around them and light bouncing off their features. Somewhere near the entrance, a cluster of marigolds grew in a messy, bright little burst by the edge of the path. 

Flux spotted Thomas eyeing them.

“Don’t even think about picking one,” Flux said immediately.

Thomas blinked, caught. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Flux jabbed a finger into his side. “You absolutely were. Leave the poor flowers alone.”

Thomas chuckled, looking annoyingly cute as he was guilty, shoving his hands into his flannel pockets. “Fine. I just thought it’d be cute.”

Flux scoffed, but his ears betrayed him, flushing pink.

They walked a few steps more before Thomas tilted his head. “You want to tell me the real reason behind your tattoo?”

Flux tensed. “How do you know that wasn’t the real reason?”

“Because,” Thomas said, giving him a look far too knowing for Flux’s comfort, “Mr. Flower-Shop-Owner having his most significant tattoo be just his birth month? I don’t buy it for a second.”

Flux folded his arms defensively. “Drop it.”

“Nope,” Thomas said. 

Flux sighed through his nose. “You’re insufferable.”

Thomas only smiled, stepping around to walk backward in front of him. “I remember giving you a marigold once.”

Flux froze mid-step.

Oh.

Of course he remembered.

Thomas’s voice softened. “Last day of school.”

A flash of memory hit Flux before he could shove it away—the school’s front gate. A car was pulled up at the front waiting for little Thomas instead of Legacy, like it usually was. He stood there, holding out a marigold that resembled his smile all-too much. Though, it shook just as much as his hands did as he held it to little Flux. 

It was ‘thank you,” Thomas had said. It was a goodbye. And little Flux waved at him from the window, holding the plant dearly in his arms. 

Flux had savoured that flower, savoured that memory, and now forever seared it into his skin. 

It wasn’t all romantic at the time for they were too young to have anything beyond shallow feelings. But it meant something to Flux, that when no one else wanted to indulge him in his antics, his flaws, there was the gift of a marigold. 

Flux looked away sharply. “You were the only one who really bothered.”

Thomas stopped in front of him, expression gentling. Then, with annoying ease, he reached over and tugged at the collar of Flux’s jacket, sliding it off his shoulder just enough to reveal the tattoo.

Flux shivered. “What are you—?”

Thomas dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss right onto the ink.

“That’s—that’s pretty narcissistic of you.” Flux nearly combusted. “Do you kiss your every client’s tattoo?”

Thomas smirked against his skin. 

“No,” he said quietly. “Just yours.”

They paused for a moment, just absorbing the atmosphere, each other’s presence, and mostly Flux trying to keep his composure. 

Flux swallowed hard, heat crawling up his neck. 

“So… do I really have to be the one to say it?”

Thomas straightened (somehow), meeting his eyes with that infuriatingly teasing softness. “Say what?”

Flux groaned, covering half his face with a hand. “Ugh. Don’t make me—the… what are we?”

Thomas’s grin went lopsided. “What do you want to be?” 

Flux flushed red. “I hate you.”

“You want to be boyfriends, Fluixon?” Thomas teased.

Flux punched him in the arm, which only made Thomas grin wider. 

“Yes,” Flux muttered. “God.”

“I’ll say yes if you kiss me again.” Thomas bit back his smile, suddenly a touch shy.

“Is everything a compromise with you?” Flux raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

Flux snorted. “Should we really be doing all this on the first date?”

Thomas paused. “Does it really matter if we’ve technically known each other for years?”

“Suppose not.” Flux admitted.

Thomas looked at him carefully. “...Do you want to stop?”

Flux’s response was immediate. “God, no. Please.”

Thomas’s smile warmed. “Then it really doesn’t matter.”

Then, Flux indulged Thomas with another kiss because, well, he really wanted to be boyfriends.