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"Can you get those last few buckets?" Merlin shouldered his way through the heavy door, shifting quickly out of the way as murky water sloshed from within his own burden.
Freya darted out from behind the counter and gathered the remaining silver buckets from outside. They were mostly empty now, just the odd stray bunch of lonely flowers remained. Business was certainly booming – or 'blooming' as Freya had phrased it earlier. Times might be hard in other parts of the country, but it seemed the occupants of Canary Wharf still had plenty of disposable income.
"My feet are killing me." Freya set the buckets down with a clang.
"You can get off if you want. I'll finish this lot up."
"You sure? I don't mind—"
"Go," Merlin insisted. "You've had a busy day; go home and put your feet up."
"Cheers, Boss." She shrugged her jacket on with a bright grin. "See you in the morning."
Merlin nodded. "Bright and early. Flip the sign on your way out, would you?"
The door had barely clanged shut behind her before Merlin heard it open again. "What did you forget this time?" he asked, grin already in place as he turned. Freya's forgetfulness was legendary, and the main reason he always locked up himself.
"I need flowers," someone who was very definitely not Freya said.
"We're closed." Merlin nodded at the sign, but couldn't quite muster his usual level of irritation – not at a man who looked like that in a suit.
"I know; I'm sorry. But it's an emergency."
"A flower emergency?" Merlin couldn’t help raise his brows.
"Exactly," his would-be customer replied, with just the slightest quirk of his lips.
"I suppose if it's an emergency." Merlin couldn't help but smile – two minutes ago he'd been aching to get home and relax in front of Netflix for the evening; it was amazing how quickly his plans had changed. But then he'd always been a sucker for a pretty face.
"My hero." If Merlin hadn't been already sold on the idea of helping, the smile he got now would have done the trick.
"We haven't got much left, I'm afraid." He gestured to the sparsely filled buckets. "What were you looking for?"
"Something to get me out of the bad books for cancelling a date last night."
"Apology flowers," Merlin thought out loud; he'd arranged plenty of those before. "Is it serious?"
"I'm sorry?" The customer frowned.
"The relationship," Merlin clarified. "Roses have the whole I love you, please forgive me message going on, but—"
"No!" It was sharp and loud and stopped Merlin in his tracks.
Merlin noticed the start of a rosy flush on the other man's neck.
"Sorry." Another sheepish smile followed – he was going to be the death of Merlin at this rate. "Just, maybe something a bit more…"
"Casual?"
"Yes! Do you have flowers that say that?"
Merlin nodded, his eyes already scanning the shop. "We have flowers for everything." He gave a wry smile here, before adding, "Well, we usually have flowers for everything. At this time of day we're reduced to carnations or tulips."
"Not carnations, definitely. Sophia can't stand them."
Merlin kept his thoughts about flower snobs to himself. "White tulips it is." He gathered a bunch together and began arranging them carefully on the cellophane wrap.
"Are you sure these aren't accidentally going to ask her to marry me or something?"
"No, you're safe from that, I promise. Just a nice, genuine apology." With one last flourish, Merlin wrapped the bouquet and secured it with a length of ribbon. "There we go."
He caught a glimpse of a silver ring on the other man's thumb as he took the flowers, and wondered for a moment how it would feel, cool, against his jaw.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Those are twenty." Merlin resisted the urge to offer a discount for having possibly the bluest eyes ever.
"You're a life saver."
It wasn't until the door had shut behind him that Merlin realised the notes in his hand added up to well over twenty pounds, and that he hadn't even managed to get the other man's name.
Of course, Merlin reminded himself, he'd been buying for a girlfriend anyway, so he was hardly going to come back and sweep Merlin off his feet. But he could dream. Or fantasise. And that night he certainly did both
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"Merlin, it's him!"
Subtlety had never been Freya's strong point, that much was for sure. If her words hadn't been loud enough to reach their approaching customer, there was no hiding the jab of her elbow.
"Yes, thank you." He rubbed at his ribs – she had bony elbows and he wasn't exactly well padded. "I have eyes."
"Hello." Merlin looked into a pair of blue eyes that were really too familiar considering their brief encounter.
"We meet again." And there was that boyish grin that Merlin might possibly have rhapsodised over to his friends at the weekend -- he was steering clear of the cocktails next time.
"Yes, and on the right side of closing time, too."
"Yeah, sorry about that." The man – and Merlin really needed to figure out his name – rubbed one hand on the back of his neck. "You know how it is."
"Flower emergency," Merlin agreed, with the hint of a smile.
"Exactly."
"So, what can I help you with this time?" Merlin asked, conscious of Freya's curious gaze. "Still apologising, or are you ready to move on to declarations of undying love?"
"Fuck no!" It was followed by a nervous sounding laugh. "Sorry, that was rude. I just…No."
Deciding it would be rude to press a stranger for details, even when there was clearly a story to tell, Merlin just nodded. "So what'll it be this time?"
"Do you have anything that says you're the best assistant ever and I'm sorry you had to deal with my crazy ex screaming down the phone at you all morning?"
So it seemed Merlin didn't need to ask for further details after all. "That's quite a specific requirement."
"I thought you had flowers for everything."
"You might just have me beat with that one." Merlin resolutely ignored the teasing tone and reminded himself there'd been a girlfriend – ex or otherwise.
A warm genuine laugh replaced the nervous one. "How about we just stick with thank you, then?"
"That I can definitely do. Does she have any favourite colours, this long-suffering assistant of yours?"
"Gwen?"
"Sorry?" Merlin frowned in confusion.
"Her name, it's Gwen. And I'm not sure. Morgana's always telling me how unobservant I am." He paused, a tiny wrinkle between his brows. "She likes blue, I think, and maybe purple. She wears them a lot anyway."
His brain turned to flowers now, Merlin found it a lot easier to ignore the effect this rather charming customer had on him. He crossed over to a corner of the shop, selecting stem after stem of hydrangeas in shades of purple and blue.
Floristry had not been Merlin's original choice – the shop had been Gaius's dream – but he'd felt obliged to help out at first, and later, well, he'd really grown to love his job. From the early morning jaunts to the market, to the smile on a bride's face when he managed to capture just what she was looking for.
"You're good at this."
Merlin tucked the final stem of green in amongst the blooms and looked up. "It helps. Being a florist, and all."
"I'd imagine," was the wry reply.
Merlin hand-tied the bouquet with a final length of green. People often overlooked hydrangeas in their rush for roses and lilies, but Merlin had a soft spot for these blooms – they'd been his mum's favourite. "There, all done."
Merlin slid them into the waiting box and tried to watch discreetly as possible while the card was completed, torn between a desire to discover the man's name and watching the way his strong fingers wrapped around the pen.
The name won out in the end.
The message on the card was brief but told Merlin more than enough.
You're a saint. I don't deserve you. Arthur.
"There you go."
Merlin took back the card and affixed it to the box.
"Now my secret's out, it's only fair I get your name in return."
Merlin cursed his inability to control his blushes, or to be covert it seemed. "Merlin," he said, and licked nervously at his lips.
The other man – Arthur, Merlin reminded himself – appeared to track the movement, but before the annoying voice in Merlin's head could whisper girlfriend, Arthur had looked away, reaching for his wallet.
"He likes you." Merlin tore his gaze away from the shop door – and Arthur's departing form – and turned to glare at his assistant. "Don't be ridiculous. And how many times have I told you to get off that counter?"
"Not as many times as you'd like to get off with blondie, I bet." Freya grinned and jumped down off the counter, darting out of Merlin's reach.
Instead of chasing, Merlin leant forward on the counter with a sigh. Arthur may or may not have a girlfriend, but Freya very definitely had a point.
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"He's back again."
"Who?" Gwaine hopped off the counter at Freya's words and leant on it instead, eyes fixed on the door.
"Arthur," Freya sing-songed, whilst tidying the rolls of ribbon she'd mangled earlier.
Merlin resolutely squashed the flutter of excitement in his belly and the burning urge to turn around. "Freya," he warned, without any expectation of being heard.
"Is that him there, with the fancy suit and poser shades?"
Merlin did glance now and spotted Arthur outside, obviously on his phone. The aviators were a little 'posey', he supposed, but given Gwaine's long-standing relationship with the mirror, he was really in no place to judge.
"That's him."
Arthur looked up just at the wrong moment and clearly caught all three of them staring, if the slight wave he gave was any indication.
"You're blushing." Gwaine gave Merlin a nudge. "You looove him."
"Why are you here again?" Merlin snapped, wisely avoiding Gwaine's actual comments, and smacked his hand away from the roses for the third time already that morning.
"Told you, I've got an audition at 2pm."
"And you couldn't wait at home?"
"I could," Gwaine replied. "But it's much harder to annoy you from there. Besides, this," he nodded at the door, "is much more fun."
"I hate you." Merlin scowled. "Both of you," he added at Freya's giggle.
"Of course you do." Gwaine ruffled Merlin's hair – like it needed any help resembling a bird's nest. This, of course, was the exact moment Arthur chose to enter.
The sight of Arthur, combined with the ding of the door bell, had Merlin feeling just a little like Pavlov's dog – fortunately without the excessive drool.
"Hello again," he said, just as Freya piped up:
"You're becoming quite a regular."
Arthur didn't flush, but favoured Freya with a smile that made Merlin want to slap her, just a little. "Well, Merlin here did save my life that first night – it would be churlish of me to visit other florists after that."
"Almost like you'd be cheating on him." Gwaine neatly side-stepped Merlin's kick as he spoke.
"Exactly," Arthur agreed, though he frowned slightly at the new face.
"I'm Gwaine," and he stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Merlin's flatmate," he added, with a nod in Merlin's general direction.
"Good to meet you. I'm—"
"Arthur. Yes, I know."
Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise at this.
"Merlin might have mentioned you."
"Oh, really" The smirk on Arthur's face should have been annoying, but Merlin could only find it attractive. "Only good things, I hope?"
"The best." Gwaine matched him smirk for smirk.
"Ignore him," Merlin said, drying his hands quickly. "Seriously, we all do."
Arthur just laughed, showing off a mouthful of lovely white teeth – almost perfect apart from the little crooked bit at the front. And damn, if Merlin didn't find that endearing. "I need your help," he said eventually.
"Did the crazy girlfriend strike again?"
"No, not this time. Well, not mine anyway." He leant sideways slightly, one arm resting casually on the counter. "I'm having dinner with my father and his new girlfriend."
"Okay," Merlin replied, trying to ignore just how at home Arthur was starting to seem in his shop. "And are you trying to say anything in particular this time?"
"As little as possible." From his look of distaste it was clear there was no love lost.
"Not a fan, eh?" asked Gwaine, who'd never been one for tact.
"You could say." Arthur grimaced. "I just want something expensive and impersonal." He paused then before adding, "Come to think of it, that's pretty spot on for their relationship."
Merlin tried not to read too much into Arthur's sharing, and directed him to their pre-arranged flowers instead.
With clearly little thought, Arthur grabbed a nearby bouquet of white roses and lilies. "This'll do."
"Do you want to know what they're saying?"
Arthur shook his head. "Nah, ignorance is bliss in this case, I think." He reached into his suit jacket and extracted his wallet. "How much?"
"Forty five," Merlin replied with the slightest of winces – he still wasn't comfortable charging for the more expensive arrangements.
But Arthur didn't blink. He tugged out a handful of notes and handed them over. "Keep the change," he said, favouring Merlin with a smile that was rapidly becoming his favourite. "Do you have a card?"
"Huh?" Merlin looked up from the till
"A business card," Arthur clarified. "My sister's looking for someone to do flowers for her wedding. Thought I might point her in your direction, seeing as I'm your favourite customer."
"Favourite?" Merlin couldn’t help the tease in his tone as he dug around for a spare card.
"Don't be harsh, Merlin. You know it's true."
"Ignore him." Freya hip-checked Arthur and added a cheeky smile. "You're totally our favourite."
"Definitely," Gwaine agreed. "And I've only just met you."
Arthur grinned, expression smug. "See, it's unanimous."
"I didn't agree," Merlin pointed out.
"You might not have said it, but I can see it in your eyes." Arthur leant forward slightly, offering Merlin another blinding grin. "There's no hiding from me." He pulled back before the moment had time to get awkward, and plucked the card from Merlin's fingers. "I'll tell Morgana to give you a call."
"Morgana?"
"Yes," Arthur said slowly. "My sister." He pressed a hand to Merlin's forehead briefly. "Are you feeling okay?"
If Merlin hadn't been flustered before, he certainly was now. "Just awed by your presence," he said, aiming for sarcasm and falling a tiny bit short.
"You'd be surprised how often that happens," Arthur agreed, as he picked up his flowers and turned to leave. "Bye Merlin. Bye Merlin's friends." And then he gave an honest-to-goodness wink at Merlin before he left.
"Not a word," Merlin warned as the door closed, then shut himself in the office until the flush had faded from his cheeks, and Gwaine had buggered off.
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If Merlin had thought Arthur looked impressive in a suit, it was nothing to the impression his sister was currently making. Merlin didn't have to find women attractive to appreciate just how stunning Morgana Pendragon was.
He'd changed into a smarter pair of trousers and a new jumper prior to this meeting, wanting to make a good impression, but faced with her cool elegance, and the effortless style of the other Pendragon Industries employees he'd encountered, Merlin felt like he'd turned up in his pyjamas.
"I very much like these." She tapped one manicured nail on a particular photograph. Merlin wasn't surprised to see she favoured a classic bouquet of deep purple calla lilies – elegant yet striking; a perfect match.
"And I'd want something similar for the button holes. Just a single one, maybe, with some greenery?" She wrinkled her nose in thought at this, which added a much more human aspect to her face.
"We can do that," Merlin agreed, and flicked through the pages of the portfolio he'd brought. "Like that." He pointed. "Just a different colour.
"Perfect." Morgana nodded in satisfaction. "Arthur was right about you." She raised a brow then at what Merlin suspected was an impressive flush on his face. She gave an almost private smile and murmured, "He was right about that, too."
Not wanting to encourage the vain hope that fluttered in his chest, Merlin turned to the portfolio again. "Have you any thoughts about centre pieces?"
"I'd like something in keeping with the other two we've picked. And I want to keep with the lilies." She paused here, expression softening. "They were my mother's favourite flower."
It was a tone Merlin recognised all too well, and he smiled gently in return. "Maybe we could mix some other shades in with it? You said the bridesmaids were a lighter purple – so maybe a few in that shade and then some white for contrast?"
"Maybe." Morgana nodded. "Not too many flowers though. I don't want it looking all rustic."
Merlin couldn't keep back a grin at that. "I find it hard to imagine your wedding appearing rustic even if it were held in a barn."
Morgana beamed at that. There was no other word for it. "Charmer," she said, a hint of a flush on her pale cheeks.
Merlin barked out a laugh. "First time I've been called that."
"To your face, maybe." Morgana's lips took on a secret sort of smile that made Merlin itch to ask, but before he could a knock interrupted them.
"Come in."
A pretty girl with dark curls came in; she looked effortlessly cool in a purple shift dress. "Arthur asked me to give you these, Morgana." She placed a number of files on the desk. "He needs them signing off urgently."
"Of course he does." Morgana gave an amused shake of her head. "Gwen, this is Arthur's Merlin. The one responsible for all those lovely flowers we've been getting."
Gwen turned on Merlin with a beaming smile, though his brain was too busy processing Arthur's Merlin to fully appreciate it.
"They were so beautiful," she said. "Thank you so much. Before he met you I had to make do with the odd box of Milk Tray – and that was if I was lucky."
Merlin couldn't help but smile in return. "I'm glad you liked them."
"I did." Her curls bobbed lightly as she nodded. "Oh Morgana!" Her attention then shifted to open portfolio between them. "Is that the bouquet you're having?" She turned wide eyes to Merlin. "It's stunning."
One day Merlin hoped he'd learn to take a compliment with ease, but today was not it. He felt the tips of his ears heat up and gave a nervous sort of smile. "Thank you."
"Gwen!" The door was flung open with no prior knock. "You've taken the wrong file."
Arthur walked in then, wearing a black suit that swiftly became Merlin's favourite. "Oh, Merlin, I didn't realise you were here."
"Arthur, do come in." Morgana's tone was calmly polite, but even Merlin could sense the inherent warning. "Merlin and I were just chatting."
Arthur glanced nervously at his sister before turning to Merlin. "Whatever she said, it isn't true."
"I hadn't even started on you yet," Morgana replied, as Merlin struggled to hide a laugh. "But there's time yet. I'm sure I have some baby photos around here somewhere."
"I hate you."
"No you don't." Morgana turned a smirk on Merlin. "He was a fat child," she mock-whispered.
"I was not," Arthur retorted, and Merlin was pleased to see he wasn't the only one prone to flushing. "She lies, Merlin. You can't believe a word she says."
"Yes, Yes." Morgana rolled her eyes, and then held out her hand. "Give me the file that you had to urgently bring through and then get back to work. Merlin and I have lots to discuss still."
Arthur's mouth opened, his intent to protest clear.
"I'll send him through once we're done."
A part of Merlin felt he should protest at this, like he wasn't a possession to be passed around. But the satisfaction on Arthur's face was its own reward.
Arthur let out a huff, but turned towards the door nonetheless. "Come on, Gwen. I need your notes on the McGregor merger."
As the door closed behind them, Morgana turned a speculative look on Merlin. "He likes you, you realise?"
Merlin wasn't quite ready to confront what she was implying. "We barely know each other," he mumbled.
Morgana remained silent but just started at him meaningfully until Merlin's face felt like it was on fire. Then, apparently satisfied her point had been made, she turned back to the portfolio.
"What do you think about flowers for the church?"
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Fridays were always the busiest day of his week, and as the clock ticked past 5.30pm, Merlin swore his feet heaved a sigh of relief. He'd sent Freya off earlier – she was apparently meeting up with Gwaine for drinks, which had potential for all kinds of disaster that Merlin was determined not to think about. He wanted to go home, put his feet up, and watch some mindless TV. All he had left to do was lock up and he was free for the weekend.
The ding of the shop bell alerted him to a schoolboy error. He'd forgotten to lock the door. "I'm sorry, we're closed."
"I'm pretty sure we've been here before."
Merlin turned round and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a tired-looking Arthur in the doorway. "Not another flower emergency, surely?"
Arthur laughed, but it seemed a little brittle around the edges. "Not quite."
"So what can I do for you?" Merlin pushed off the counter and took a few steps towards him.
Arthur opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing came out – and he seemed determined to look everywhere but actually at Merlin's face.
"Arthur, are you okay?"
Arthur took a few steps closer also. "Yes," he replied, before clearing his throat nervously.
Merlin felt distinctly unsettled. Arthur was definitely not acting like himself "What's behind your back?" he asked finally, noticing the way Arthur's hands were hidden.
After a moment's hesitation, Arthur produced a small bouquet of blue flowers. "These."
"You cheated on me," Merlin teased, hoping to break some of the tension he could feel.
"Not quite." Arthur held the flowers out towards Merlin. "I couldn't exactly buy them here."
Merlin looked from Arthur's uncertain expression to the outstretched bouquet in confusion. "They're for me?"
Arthur nodded, but remained silent.
Merlin licked his lips as he reached out and took them. "They're blue violets."
"I know." Arthur sounded more like himself now that Merlin had actually taken them from him.
"But they mean—"
"I know," Arthur repeated.
Merlin felt like if his eyes got any wider they were in danger of falling out. Half of his brain understood just what Arthur was saying, but the other half was telling him he was an idiot. "You have a girlfriend," he blurted out, before either side of his brain fully engaged.
"Had," Arthur corrected. "Very much past tense." He waited until Merlin met his gaze before continuing, "And before that I had a boyfriend. People can have both."
"I know." Merlin couldn’t get his brain to register coherent thoughts right then. He just looked from the flowers clutched tightly in his rather sweaty palm, to Arthur's face, with its patient expression. "I just…" He shrugged helplessly.
Arthur shook his head with a soft smile. "The flowers are for you, Merlin. And yes, I know what they mean. Google is very helpful at times."
"So you're saying…" Merlin swore his tongue had doubled in size – it felt far too thick in his mouth to get words around.
"I like you, Merlin." Arthur took a step closer. "A lot." He gave an uncertain laugh then and scrubbed one hand through his hair. "I'm usually a lot better at this."
"I'm not," Merlin replied, with painful honestly.
"Well, with any luck, that won't matter anymore."
As the implication behind Arthur's words sank in, Merlin gaped. There was no other word for it.
Arthur reached out and tipped his chin up with one finger. "Are you done for the day?"
Merlin just nodded – words were still a problem.
"How do you feel about dinner?"
"Dinner's good," Merlin managed to say at last."
"With me," Arthur clarified.
Merlin was stupid, but not that stupid. He'd got that. "Even better."
Arthur's smile could have lit up the shop, it was so bright. "Let's go then." And he actually held out his hand for Merlin to take.
"I should…" Merlin gestured with the flowers. "I need to put these in water first."
He crossed over to the sink and began filling one of the spare vases they had there. Just as he turned off the cold tap, he felt Arthur press against his back, the warmth of his breath tickling the short hairs on Merlin's neck. Merlin didn't speak. He just swallowed hard.
"I've wanted to do this for weeks," Arthur murmured, lips brushing against Merlin's ear.
"Ask me to dinner?" Merlin turned then, and was impressed to hear his voice come out even. With Arthur so close he was definitely shaking inside.
"That, yes." Arthur swallowed hard then and Merlin's eyes tracked the bob of his throat. "And this."
He slid one hand up then to curl lightly around Merlin's neck, whilst the other rested heavy on his hip. Merlin vaguely registered the cool metal of Arthur's ring against his heated skin,
It was the last coherent thought he had for some time though, because then Arthur was kissing him like both of their lives depended on it, and in that moment Merlin wasn't quite sure that they didn't.
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