Dan wasn't what you'd call a typical 23 year old male.

Because typical 23 year old males, didn't have a flower shop joint greenhouse passed down to them from their grandfather after he had passed.

Nor were they still wearing a fringe in 2014.

When he was twenty-one, nearly twenty-two, and his family discovered that his grandfather wanted Dan to have the shop, he was a mess. He didn't know how to run his own business. Luckily, his grandfather's previous assistant manager, a lovely woman named Louise, remained there for Dan and taught him everything he needed to know.

When they met, he was frantic and stressed and constantly running his hand through his hair like he was going to rip it out and she promised him, with hands on his shoulders, that she wasn't going to leave and that everything would be okay.

And it was.

He was proud that he managed to run the shop well. It was a hole-in-the-wall sort of the shop and it suited his lifestyle.

When he was in Elementary school, he would spend the afternoons here. His grandfather would tell him about all the different types of flowers, the seasons they grew best in, and what their symbolic meaning was.

He was not partial to any particular flower. Not today, at least.

Dan had once asked his grandfather if he had a favorite flower, and asked a second time later, as he had forgotten the initial response. When Dan explained this, he said, "My favorite flower today is not what it was when you had last asked me."

Dan didn't quite understand at eleven, but now he could relate to the sentiment.

"Have you gotten a look at the man next door lately?"

"Huh?"

Dan was wrapping up a bouquet, preparing it to be put out on a stand for sale inside the shop. He looked up into her big, blue eyes as she pushed a lock of her long, blonde hair out of her face.

Louise always joined him in these small tasks of setting up the displays and things and they chatted as they did this. He really wasn't much of a talker, particularly first thing in the morning, but Louise's nice voice filled the silence like music.

Dan knew there was a tattoo and piercings shop next door. It hadn't always been there, or he would have remembered it as a child. It was also very out of place, as it was next to the flower shop of all things.

"The man next door," she repeated. "He's a tattoo artist. I'm not much into tattoos and things, but he's always been so handsome."

"Is he?"

Dan never had a chance to find out who ran the shop next door, but Louise had been here longer than he had and was just starting as his grandfather's assistant when the lot next door was leased out and turned into a tattoo shop.

Louise hummed. "He and your grandfather got on quite well actually. He'd pop in to say good morning sometimes."

"He sounds nice," Dan replied, not really putting much thought into it.

"He was sweet. After he'd noticed your grandfather's car wasn't always in the parking lot anymore, he came in to talk to me and I had to tell him what happened." Louise's voice grew impossibly softer than it already was and it caught Dan's attention. He looked up at her, noticing that she blinked rapidly, eyes shining. "It was dreadful. So he bought a flower and turned around and handed it to me."

"That's really sweet of him. What's his name?'

"Oh, silly me. That's important to know about a person, isn't it? His name is Phil."

"Phil?"

"I know, not quite what you'd expect from a tattoo artist, right? But his tattoos are really nice," she gushed. "I just wish he'd come in to say good morning like he used to."

Dan just hummed, as he adjusted a pretty Anemone amongst some Daisies. He then adjusted the ribbon around the plastic wrapping and looked it over, satisfied.

Truth be told, Phil really wanted to meet who was running the flower shop now. Louise had said it would be the old man's grandson and he'd been anxiously putting it off for months to just peak his head in and say good morning.

He had managed to run into the old man in the parking lot, and helped with a few things that he had dropped. The old man was sweet and incredibly gracious to Phil despite his profession and his appearance.

He wondered if his grandson would at all be the same. Louise had said his name was Dan. Well, it was short for Daniel, but he preferred Dan, she had added.

Phil had chuckled and picked out a set of pink flowers, with an orange and black spotted center and thick, dark leaves.

He bought and paid for them, but then said that they were for her and the shop.

"Phil, you're too sweet," she had said, accepting the flowers with a hug.

"It's the least I can do," Phil had replied, and he truthfully wished there was something more he could do for them.

"You want to go to get something for lunch?" Louise asked Dan after he had spent most of the morning in the greenhouse and sat down in the office.

He looked down at the dirt that had begun to build up beneath his finger nails and cringed as he considered what Louise had suggested.

"Erm, yeah that sounds nice," he looked up.

"Sub sandwiches?" She suggested with an eager smile.

"Sure," he agreed, catching her contagious smile like it was the flu.

Louise began to gather her things and Dan pulled on his black jacket which had been previously hanging on the back of the white, iron chair.

Dan got out a slip of paper from the printer against the wall as well as a thick, black marker and bent over the desk to quickly write, "out to lunch," in big letters. From the roll of tape he tore off a bit and stuck it to the top of the sheet of paper and carried it with him as he followed Louise out of the office, and passed the flower displays.

Louise carried the keys so that when they were outside she could lock up and he could attach the note to the glass door.

As Dan smoothed out the opaque slip of tape onto the glass, he heard a car door being shut. He turned around, intending to follow Louise, but he noticed a tall, black, haired man stepping up onto the pavement and heading towards the entrance to the tattoo and piercing shop.

"Hi, Phil," Louise called out to him in her sweet voice and waved.

"Hey," he called back. He seemed to hesitate as he paused on the pavement, then approached the two of them after his eyes slid over to take in the thin form of the man in black.

Dan shuffled awkwardly, and fidgeted with his hands in his jacket pockets, attempting to make himself unnoticeable and avoided looking directly at the man. At twenty-three he had never quite grown out of his painful awkwardness.

Phil hugged Louise and asked, "How is everything?"

"Everything is going really well. This is Dan," She gestured to Dan.

"Hey, I'm Phil," the man flashed a million dollar smile at him, and like Louise's smiles, it was infectious.

Dan grinned back, finally braving eye-contact, and said, "Hi."

He was actually taken by surprise. Phil wasn't exactly the sort of character he'd expect to have run a tattoo and piercings shop. He didn't have any visible tattoos, but did have a small piercing at the left side of his bottom lip as well as small gages in his ears.

But what caught his eye more was the green hooded sweatshirt he wore that really emphasized how broad his shoulders were and he couldn't deny that he was dying to know how they'd feel beneath his hands.

"Are you doing well?" Louise asked, filling in the gaps.

"Yeah, everything is just fine. I'm glad I've run into you. Been putting it off to check up on the shop since-," he cut himself short, glancing to Dan.

"Since you've taken over," he redeemed himself. He scanned Dan's face, hoping he hadn't made a mistake.

Dan was unsure of what to say, but flicked his eyes back and forth between Phil's, suddenly aware of how beautiful they were. He panicked, lost for words, and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. He stared intently at the ground, as if it were a bare flower bed, and he was thinking of how to arrange some plants.

"Well, we're just off to lunch," Louise said, not lost on the exchange. "We'll catch you around?"

"Yeah, definitely. Good meeting you, Dan."

Dan hummed and scurried after Louise, glancing back for a moment, realizing that Phil was watching them go.

With a warm face, he turned his eyes forward again.

With their favorite sandwiches they sat in the small fast food restaurant.

The image of Phil was floating in his head as he listened to Louise speak.

He was much gentler than Dan had expected. But then again, he and his grandfather had apparently been friends. He was also considerate, he'd noticed.

And Dan was immensely attracted to him. He wasn't about to voice that though, especially when Louise asked, "Phil is nice, huh?"

He hummed, taking a bite of his sandwich, and trying not to smile.

Louise began to laugh once he'd gotten through his bite and a grin spread across his face.

He didn't need to say what was on his mind, for Louise just looked at him, knowing.

It was Valentine 's Day, and everyone knew that Howell's Arrangements had the best and Louise had prepared ahead of time with loads of different roses. They always had great business during this week, and it meant a great start to the year.

Phil still hadn't been around to say, "Hi," but he was hesitant after his awkward start with Dan. He hesitated outside, unbeknownst to Dan. Louise had already left for the day to be with her husband and daughter. Phil knew, because her silver car was gone.

He was on his way to head out of town for the evening to see his mother and decided he ought to get her some flowers. She was a sucker for sweet gestures like that. He supposed he took after her in that sense.

He'd left the shop, changed into something nicer, and then returned to take a look at the flowers Dan had.

As the day was already beginning to grow quite old, business was slower.

With a deep breathe, he pulled the shop door open, a jingle from the bell sounding and he stepped inside.

His feet landed on carpet designed with traction that lay over hard concrete as the smell of flowers filled his nose.

The shop was very quiet, fans blowing overhead, cooling his bare neck and playing with his hair slightly. He headed towards the front counter of the shop.

Where did Dan go?

The door to the greenhouse was open, and he could smell rich soil wafting through

He was considering turning right back around again and leaving, but it was too late when Dan stepped quickly through the heavy open door, wiping his hands on a pair of old-looking, blue jeans. He wore a black, faded t-shirt that had fine soil swiped across in some places.

"Hi," Dan began, smiling widely. The brilliance caught Phil off guard.

"Erm," Dan's stuttered as his smile faltered. He had gone a bit wide-eyed in surprise at finding Phil in his shop.

"Hey," Phil replied, hoping his tone sounded casual, especially when his heart swelled with adoration as he took in the streak of dirt across Dan's cheek.

"Oh, er, Happy Valentine's Day," Dan offered. "Are you looking for some flowers for someone?" He realized how slight Phil really was as he wasn't wearing a heavy, hooded sweatshirt, but a fitted knit sweater and nice black jeans.

Dan felt like a complete mess compared to how well put together Phil was.

"Well, sort of." Phil let out a slight cringe.

"Sort of?"

"They're for mom," he explained.

"Oh," Dan said, halfway relieved. Buying flowers for your mother on Valentine's Day probably meant that you did not have a significant other. Not that he was even interested in Phil, he scoffed inwardly. Hell, he didn't even know if Phil was attracted to guys. He said, "Does she have a favorite?"

"No idea." Phil replied, as he looked away in thought. He looked up again. "But she knows loads about them. Has a huge garden. I bet the two of you'd get on real well."

"Erm, well, are you looking for roses, or something different?"

"Not roses." Phil shook his head. "These flowers are going to my mom."

Dan chuckled, understanding. "Let's have a look and see what I've got prepared then."

He walked around to the other side of the counter and Phil couldn't help but let his eyes trail up Dan's legs as he took long strides. He nearly crashed into Dan when he finally stopped moving. He realized they were on another side of the shop.

"What sort of message are you trying to send?"

"Er," Phil hesitated, confused. "What do you mean?"

Dan was standing tall, looking at the top rack of flowers wrapped in plastic and secured with ribbon. Phil realized he was shorter than him as his eyes scanned Dan's long figure.

Dan looked at Phil, who flicked his eyes upwards just in time to not be caught staring.

He repeated his question to Phil.

"Er, I guess, "You're the best, mom."" He laughed awkwardly.

Dan looked away, peering at one arrangement that included, and put more of the attention on, a blue flower that grew spherically.

Phil scanned the rest of the rack, and spotted a pink, similar shaped flower and pointed to it saying, "This one's nice."

"Oh, that's perfect for a mom," Dan grinned and took the arrangement off the rack, the plastic rustling loudly.

"What's it called?" Phil asked, trying to distract himself from Dan's thin form as he had reached up. A bit of his belly had become visible, as well as the waistband of his black boxers.

"Carnation. Symbolic for love for a mother or a woman."

"Wait," Phil said as Dan turned. "They've got symbolic meanings?"

"No, they just look like vaginas," He replied flatly and it took a moment for Phil to realize that Dan was being sarcastic and he chuckled.

"I didn't mean to sound ignorant. That's kind of cool."

"You think it's cool?"

"Well, sort of." He said in a non-committal tone.

"Well, tattoos are cool. Sort of," Dan echoed Phil and they both grinned at each other.

Phil noticed the way Dan's eyes crinkled around the edges and the flex of his cheeks.

Dan was truly incredibly beautiful.

"So these ones then?" Dan asked, holding the bouquet of carnations carefully.

"Yeah, I like those ones."

Dan led the way back to the front of the shop where Phil paid for the carnations. Dan also gave him a package of flower food to put into some water when they were put into a vase.

"They won't wilt as quickly if you give them this," Dan spoke as if the flowers were a small pet.

"Thanks," Phil said as he gathered everything up. "Happy Valentines Day," he realized he neglected to return the wish to Dan.

"Erm, thanks," Dan frowned slightly. He'd be heading to an empty house in another half hour.

"No plans?" Phil asked, hoping he sounded casual and innocently curious.

"I'm going to give myself a Maltesers hangover and watch Netflix." Dan said with a deadpan expression, as he pressed a hand at the back of his own waist.

Phil chuckled at his painfully honest humor. "Sounds like you've got a big night then." He slipped his wallet into his pocket.

"Oh and, er, by the way. You've got a bit of dirt, just there," Phil reached up to scratch at his own cheek, mirrored to where the streak of soil actually was.

Dan reached up to wipe the dirt away from his cheek, wide-eyed, as Phil turned and left the shop, leaving him with a red face.