Yogscast Oneshots

Flowers (Tross)

AU: Tattoo artist

Graphite scratching against rough sheets of paper drew my attention away from the flower arrangement I was working on. I glanced up, noticing the small figure sitting cross-legged on the store's cold linoleum flooring. Frowning slightly, I realised that I hadn't even noticed him entering, which was unusual for me considering I typically would watch the door like a hawk when he was supposed to arriving. I glanced down at my wristwatch, digital figures flashing back at me. He was almost an hour early, hence my apparent confusion.

"Hey Trott, you're early?" I vocalised my inner thoughts, curiosity getting the best of me.
Chris Trott smiled, his gaze meeting mine, "Ross, Hey, slow morning, thought I'd come and spend some more time with you." He winked, chuckling as I blushed. Fucking dick. His cognac-brown eyes twinkled as his laughter filled the shop, my embarrassment worsening. If he wasn't so damn good looking, I probably would've kicked him out by now. He had a certain aura about him that I couldn't help but find attractive and an easy smile that was warm and welcoming.

He'd wandered into the florist store I owned a few months ago, asking if he could practice sketching some of the flowers I had on display. Apparently, he ran the tattoo parlour across the street and a lot of his clients asked for tattoos of some fancy ass flowers. I'd obliged willingly, the eye candy a welcome distraction from my usual boring, monotonous routine. Since then, he'd been in my store almost every day I was open, making crude remarks and flirting like crazy.

After a lengthy string of such trashy remarks, he returned to his drawings. I carried on with my floral arrangements, clipping the stems of a few dozen roses. "So Ross," Trott began, not looking up from his drawings, "I was thinking... to repay you for letting me crash your store like this, I should probably buy you a coffee or something." I was so surprised, I almost ended up slicing my hand open on the sharp metal blade of the scissors. Was he asking me on a date?

"Fuck- I mean uh sure, when?" I groaned inwardly, hoping he didn't notice how excited I was. I mean, I'd been dreaming of this day since the moment his tattooed little butt stepped into my shops but I didn't have to act like a dork about it. I waited for his reply, my heart racing. The colourful ink on his forearms seemed to melt as time slowed to a halt.

He smirked, "right now?"

I hopped over the counter as fast as my body would carry me, the open sign on the store's door flipped to close without a moment's hesitation.

"Woah, Ross, that was pretty amazing," he mumbled as he followed me out of the store, "You know what else is amazing?" I raised an eyebrow.

"My dick," he giggled, literally fucking giggled like a little schoolgirl, and took my hand in his.