Bouquet

With the wedding fast approaching, Gabe hardly has time to leave his shop anymore. All the shipments of flowers he needs for Amélie’s arrangements have arrived and his hands ache from making countless centerpieces and other displays to place around the venue. Once Amélie drops by with takeout as a surprise to find him asleep on the counter, fresh blooms in hand. It’s a miracle he didn’t crush any of them.

But there’s one thing he made time for; he texted Jack. It was a simple “this is Gabe, Amélie gave me your number” text, but a text all the same.

And even that one harmless, emotionless sentence had taken him about three solid days to compose. Gabe was the type of person who texted in extremes; he was either extremely casual, (once he and Lena had held an entire conversation composed entirely of emojis. It was very creative, to say the least) or he texted like he was writing a business email.

Regardless of Gabe’s poor texting form, the response was instantaneous.

> about time

Gabe considers immediately deleting Jack’s number from his phone and maybe packing up the shop and moving to a completely new city, but Amélie’s paying him a lot for the floral arrangements so that might have to wait. At least until after the wedding.

He taps out a response.

It’s not my fault you never asked for my number

> would u have given it to me if I had??

No, he probably wouldn’t have. Truthfully, he would have laughed right into Jack Morrison’s handsome face and then gone home to have Amélie curse him out over the phone for his impulse to keep people from getting close to him. He hates how good she is at reading him.

His phone pings again.

> since ur not answering I’ll take that as a no

Maybe it’s not too late to delete Jack’s number. Although at this rate, even if he did, he assumes Jack is the type of person to send a barrage of messages until he gets a response.

Maybe I was busy

> ARE u busy?

Gabe eyes the half-finished bouquet in front of him. It can wait.

No

His phone rings suddenly and the shrill tone reverberated so loudly through the empty shop that Gabe almost drops it. He answers and hears a sigh ghost across the receiver.

“You’re horrible at texting, you know that?”

Gabe sneers before realizing nobody is around to see it, then clicks his tongue in frustration.

“Sorry I can’t portray my winning personality through type.” He grumbles and Jack chuckles lightly.

“It’s not a bad thing, I guess I just got used to your tough guy act and your bland texting didn’t have me convinced I was really talking to you.”

“You’ve met me twice.”

Gabe can hear him shift the phone in his hands. For a second he wonders what Jack’s doing at the moment. Is he working, just like Gabe? Are cops allowed to make personal calls at work? Or is he at home, wearing something comfortable, talking to Gabe like they’re best friends.

“You left an impression those two times, then.”

He doesn’t know where to go from here. If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know what he even wants from Jack at this point. Sure, Amélie thinks there’s some potential for them to be…something, he supposes, but is that what HE wants. And what does Jack even want?

Gabe’s used to people finding him attractive, is used to people wanting a quick fling and then moving on. He’s fine with that, but he’s not used to not knowing what the other person expects out of their relationship. Is Jack looking for a friend? A hookup?

Gabe doesn’t allow himself to consider anything further; he’s already too far out of his depth. Best to just get it all out into the open.

“Are you flirting with me, Jack Morrison?”

There’s a soft cough through the phone that sounds suspiciously like Jack trying to maintain his facade of calm and casual. Gabe is certain he’s red to the tips of his ears in person, but he lets him continue.

“I’ve been trying to flirt with you since you showed up at the bar. I would have tried earlier too if I weren’t so dumbfounded by seeing you that first time.” Gabe’s struck by how sincere the admission sounds.

“That first day after the hotel, I asked Amélie about you.” His voice is more hushed now; like he’s unveiling something deeply personal. Maybe he is.

“She laughed at me, she always does, but she wouldn’t tell me anything about you. And then you were at the bar and I had to try to talk to you. And you were so real with me.” Gabe’s about to ask him to clarify when Jack steamrolls right along with his one-sided conversation.

“Sometimes people just see me as the cop; as the all-American guy. But you saw past that immediately. You don’t mince words and you don’t put on airs and,” Gabe hears the shuddering breath Jack lets out as if they were in the same room together, mere inches apart.

“And I liked it, I liked talking to you. I didn’t want it to end and then I was driving you home and suddenly you were gone again.” The cadence of his voice is picking up like he can’t get the words out quick enough. There’s a rustling sound again and Gabe’s struck by how close it sounds. Jack’s breath catches and it’s deafening in the surrounding silence.

“Are you,” Gabe pauses, afraid to break the tension that always seems to be present between them. “Are you touching yourself right now?”

Jack lets out a breath that sounds like the tail-end of a laugh. It’s an electric, raw sound.

“Would you hang up on me if I was?” Is the only response he gives.

Gabe considers for a moment. Thinks of Jack alone in his house. Jack, who wanted to hear his voice as compared to a text conversation. Jack, who’d apparently been waiting for Gabe to text him. Jack, who had wanted to get to know the florist who keeps everyone at arms’ length.

Jack, who’s currently masturbating to their phone conversation.

All in all, it’s not the worst outcome.

“I haven’t hung up yet have I?”

There’s a low groan through the phone that pitches high into a whine at the end and, God, Gabe is an idiot. A huge idiot. He shouldn’t be letting this happen, he should…he should definitely do something that’s not just sitting here dumbstruck, but the sound of the man on the other end of the line has destroyed his ability to make rational decisions.

He can feel heat pooling low in his stomach and palms himself roughly through the soft denim of his jeans. Luckily it’s late enough that no customers are going to randomly drop by, but doing this in the middle of his flower shop is less than ideal.

He’ll never be able to stand in here again without remembering the phone sex he had with a near stranger.

A near stranger who’s breathing his name into his ear like a prayer, at the moment.

“What about you?” Jack asks, startling Gabe out of his trance.

“What about me?” He growls lowly, but with no bite. He runs his hand down the seam of his pants, feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric. It may be late, and his shop might be free of customers at the moment, but pulling his dick out of his pants when anyone could walk in isn’t a risk he’s currently willing to take.

“Did you think of me?” Jack prompts him, and by the slick sounds coming through the phone Gabe can imagine him, cock in hand with his cellphone balanced between chin and shoulder, stroking himself. He half wishes he were there to see it in person.

“I thought you were an idiot.” Gabe says, and there’s a silence that tells him Jack has stopped him movements for the moment, that he’s just listening.

“I thought you might be one of those guys who’s just a pretty smile on the outside until he finds your weakness. At the wedding venue,” Gabe presses the heel of his palm roughly against his groin, enjoys the spark it send up his spine.

“At the wedding venue, you wouldn’t stop looking at me like you were planning something. I didn’t trust it. Not even when Amélie said you were curious. So at the bar I knew I had to try to break you.”

There’s another sigh from Jack and the sounds of him stroking himself pick up again, but slower this time.

“And?” Jack’s voice pitches lower.

“And did you break me?”

It’s so stupid Gabe laughs. A full, throaty laugh that’s probably the opposite of attractive during phone sex. He’s not sure what actual phone see etiquette is but he’s certain it doesn’t involve laughing at the other person.

“No I didn’t. Because you wouldn’t let me get a moment of quiet the whole fucking night. You insulted my dating life, my personality and my living arrangements. You’re an asshole, Jack. And fuck that shouldn’t have been attractive but you left me on the sidewalk that evening in front of this stupid shop wishing I’d invited you in. Wishing I could shove you up against a wall until you learned your place.”

If Jack tries to hold in the moan that reaches Gabe’s ears, he clearly didn’t try hard enough. It fills him with excitement, white hot electricity at reducing someone he’s only just met to incoherency. In that second he feels powerful.

Which is of course why, at exactly that second, the phone in the store rings.

“H-hold on a second I have to answer this.” Gabe fumbles for the landline, can hear Jack’s stoppered response on his cell.

“Are you in the shop? You were working.” He lets out a breathy laugh that Gabe wishes he could record to play over and over.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jack says, with no small amount of disappointment in the tone of his voice.
“But don’t think I won’t hold this against you. You owe me for this.”

“You can hold anything against me you want.” Gabe sing-songs as he picks up the store phone, rattling off his usual greeting to the customer on the other end. Before he hangs up on his cell phone call he can faintly hear Jack’s grumbled complaints about how he’s never going to be able to look at the flowers at Amélie’s wedding without thinking of this, and Gabe has to choke down the laugh that threatens to bubble out for the sake of the customer on the other line.

At least he and Jack have that in common, then.

---

They don’t talk for three days after the phone incident, which is entirely Gabe’s fault. Jack, as he’d assumed, sent him a barrage of text messages; everything from asking how he was to pictures of random dogs he sees while on duty, but Gabe doesn’t have the heart to reply.

He feels overwhelmed, honestly, he still doesn’t know what Jack wants out of their…whatever this is, and it’s got him overthinking everything he does.

Gabe likes Jack, fuck maybe that’s not even a strong enough word, but he’s not ready to come to terms with that yet. They’ve still only met a couple of times, spoken only a few times more and Gabe doesn’t want to be hung high and dry when Jack decides he isn’t worth sticking around for.

And he’s shocked by how much that thought causes an ache in his chest.

At least he’s busy enough with finishing the arrangements for the wedding to have an excuse not to answer any of the texts Jack is continuing to send.

---

It’s another two days later when Gabe is woken to the sound of a commotion out in front of the shop.

He makes his way down the stairs of his apartment and onto the sidewalk to find a group of people all gathered around the coffee shop two doors down. There’s some broken glass on the sidewalk and one of the widows has a board over it covering where the glass was presumably shattered. Gabe eyes the crowd and recognizes, among them, the familiar silhouette of the cowboy that’s been at the wedding venue with Lena. Jesse, if he recalls correctly.

Jesse seems to notice him as well and makes his way through the cluster of people towards Gabe, revealing his police uniform. He tips his hat slightly in Gabe’s direction before motioning over his shoulder at the coffee shop.

“Some kids tried to break in late last night. Found ‘em before they could cause any real damage besides some glass, but that’s left us on cleanup duty and keeping the locals from getting too worked up.” He seems to finally take stock of the sweats Gabe is wearing and the store they’re standing in front of.

“This your place? Death Blossom. Boy you sure know how to name 'em, don'tcha?”

Gabe is about to dismiss himself and go back to bed when a familiar shock of blonde hair comes through the crowd.

“Jesse, I’m trying to gather statements from the owner and workers I'd appreciate it if you’d stop giving my phone number to random passerby and telling them I 'do bachelorette parties’.” He spots Gabe standing in front of the shop and at least has the decency to look embarrassed, although he does nothing more to acknowledge him.

Jesse, who seems to know when he’s not wanted not needed, takes the awkward silence as his cue to leave. With a short wave over his shoulder, he leaves the two to their uncomfortable tension.

“I’ll see you back at the station, Morrison.” The cowboy calls after them.

“You haven’t answered my texts.” Jack starts, folding his arms over his chest in what Gabe imagines is his tough-cop interrogation stance. It has little impact when he knows what Jack sounds like moaning and breathless over the phone.

Which is exactly what Gabe DOESNT need to be thinking about right now.

“I’ve been busy.” It’s an excuse, and they both know it, but he needs time to clear his head about this whole situation. He just needs time.

“After the wedding we can talk. I promise. No phones, no work, just face to face. Talk.”

If Jack is about to say something, a new commotion coming from within the coffee shop cuts him off.

“I’ve got to finish this up, but I’m hold you to that. After the wedding.”

“You can hold me against anything you want.” Gabe echoes from before, and the stern lines across Jack’s face soften a bit, before he nods and is gone again.

Gabe has to resist the urge to call out to him, to get a few more moments together, even amidst this chaos.

After the wedding, he resigns.