"Are you sure you're okay, Bonnie? That's the second flower pot you've broken today," Sensei asked, concern evident in his frown.
Bonnie looked up from the pile of soil and shattered pottery that he had swept up and offered a polite smile. " Yeah, everything's fine. Why?"
Sensei casually approached the younger man, worry showing on his face, and Chica eyed them both carefully. Of course, they wouldn't buy that pathetic lie. They could read Bonnie like an open book; sometimes it was a good thing, and other times, it just felt like punishment.
Once Sensei was standing before the smaller florist, he placed his large hand on Bonnie's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "Is this because we got onto you about cleaning up after your guests? We didn't mean to upset you..."
"No, no... I'm not upset about it. I swear I was going to clean up after them," Bonnie admitted, keeping his eyes trained on the ground and sweeping at nothing. "I just fell asleep by accident."
His words were followed by an eerie silence, and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. After a few more seconds of the awkward silence, Sensei finally eased his hand away from Bonnie's shoulder and offered him a warm smile.
"It's okay. I'm just glad you're getting along so well with our neighbors. It shows me how much you've grown during these past months," Sensei praised him, grinning a bit wider when Bonnie returned a meek, little smile of his own.
"Alright, I'll let you finish cleaning, then."
As Sensei walked away, he gave the smaller man a hefty pat on the back and went back to tending the large section of colroful petunias, and Bonnie sluggishly swept the mess of soil onto the dust pan before tossing it out.
His brain felt like it would explode any moment now if he didn't take it easy. He completely forgot about how terrible hangovers could be since he usually drank in moderation, and now, he was regretting every single drop of alcohol he had ingested the night before. The florist wasn't even sure if the headache medicine he took an hour ago was actually taking any effect at all.
But he had a job to do, and he was trying to convince Sensei and Chica that nothing was wrong with him. The biggest and fattest lie he's ever told...
Heading back to the front of the shop to finish rearranging some of the flowers, Bonnie saw the door open out of the corner of his eye and heard the bell jingle at the sudden entrance. A massive figure took a few steps into the building, and it was none other than the menacing tattoo parlor owner Spring who was looming over Bonnie's smaller frame in a matter of seconds.
A few greetings were granted across the shop by Chica and Sensei, which Spring politely greeted them back, but he soon turned his attention back to Bonnie. The pale florist stopped what he was doing and turned to face his neighbor with sleep-deprived eyes and a tired smile.
"Foxy's pretty fucked up, you know... What did you two do last night, anyways?" Spring didn't bother to spare the florist any kind of greeting, but it wasn't surprising.
"Oh, that... That's not something I really want to talk about in front of..." Bonnie kept his voice low as he glanced at the two older flowershop owners watching them warily. "It's kind of embarrassing, too. I don't think Foxy really understands what happened."
The taller man hummed in response and nodded his head a couple of times. "That's funny because he's been moping around all morning saying everything was his fault. He won't even tell us what he did, and it's annoying the crap out of me. Which is why I came over here..."
Bonnie grimaced at the thought Foxy blaming himself, and he felt like hundreds of fire ants were biting his skin, making his flesh burn in agony, especially as he started to scratch it. Noticing that Spring was staring at his unusual antic, the scraggly florist forced his hand down to his side to fidget with the crinkles of his pants.
"It's not his fault... I was the one who ruined everything last night," Bonnie said, quietly.
"And just what do you mean by that?" Spring asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the side of a shelf.
"Do you really have to know?" Bonnie didn't intend to sound defensive, but he saw the way the taller man raised a challenging brow at him, almost as if threatening to beat the snot out of him if he decided to cop an attitude.
"Because I've never seen Foxy so upset. It's bumming us all out, so if you can straighten things out with him, that'd be fantastic..."
Bonnie stared down at the scuffed, leather shoes he was sporting and mulled the thought over in his head. Did he really want to tell Spring? What exactly would Spring do if he found out? Tell Foxy? Perhaps it would be better if someone else told Foxy the truth... or worse.
Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Bonnie finally glanced up again and felt his face heating up with embarrassment. "I can't really tell you. It's kind of embarrassing."
In return, the man furrowed his brows at the florist. "What, did you two virgins finally tap sticks and not like it? I really don't care if it's embarrassing, just tell me so we can move on with our lives..."
Bonnie's blush burned brighter, and his hands began to sweat as a silly question drifted across his mind. Is Foxy really a virgin, too? He didn't exactly know why that made him so giddy, but it was sort of a nice, quaint relief knowing they had that in common. Assuming what Spring said was true.
"S-So you really want to know?" Bonnie inquired, biting his tongue after sounding absolutely unenthusiastic about confessing the events of the previous night to anyone.
Spring nodded. And Bonnie gritted his teeth.
In a hushed tone, Bonnie started, "Well... Just don't repeat this to anyone else, okay?"
The taller man muttered an "okay," and Bonnie inhaled deeply to brace himself for the inevitable humiliation he was about to face.
"So you already know that Foxy stayed over and that we both had too much to drink... And after that things kind of escalated between us, but I got so nervous it made me sick. Which is why I had to stop Foxy and ruin everything," the florist quietly summarized, lightly dragging his fingernails over the scabs on his arm.
Standing there with a confused look on his face, Spring knitted his brows together. "All of this because you felt lightheaded?"
"No, I had to throw up," Bonnie bluntly corrected him, shoulders slouching and tired red eyes looking up at his neighbor in what looked like shame.
"Ah," was all Spring could say as he rubbed the back of his neck in thought. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.
There were a few more seconds of awkward silence before Bonnie piped up again. "You're not going to tell him about this, are you?"
A disturbing smile stretched Spring's lips, and Bonnie was feeling uneasy once again.
"There's no way I won't tell him. He has a right to know," Spring insisted, seeming pleased with the shorter gentleman's frown. "If you don't mind, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."
"Spring, you better not tell him," Bonnie threatened, his voice reaching an octave higher since Spring was striding over to the door.
Spring only responded by saying, "Don't forget about your tattoo," and left the shop before anything more could be said.
The florist completely forgot about the tattoo. The tattoo he didn't necessarily want in the first place. But even worse than getting a tattoo, Bonnie panicked at the thought of Spring telling Foxy what happened. About how stupid he was for being so reckless.
"You're getting a tattoo?" Chica questioned, as she waltzed over to Bonnie.
Sensei followed after. "You've never mentioned anything about getting a tattoo before..."
Well, this was great. It was always one thing after another for poor Bonnie, and he didn't know what to say exactly. So, he just stood quietly, looking off to the side and playing with the seam on the sleeve of his lavender dress shirt. Because lavender just seemed like a color you would wear to brighten your mood on a bad day.
"Is that why you've been acting strange? Do you already have a tattoo?" Sensei inquired, crossing his arms and shifting his weight onto one foot. He wasn't trying to be menacing or anything and Bonnie knew that, but if someone else were to have Sensei standing over them like this, they may as well just piss their pants.
Nonetheless, Bonnie perked up at his words and shook his head. "No, I swear I don't have a tattoo. He just keeps bothering me to get one."
"Are you thinking about getting one, then?" Chica asked, mostly out of curiosity.
"I don't want one, but I feel like I sort of owe it to him to get one... Since he and his friends helped me that one night..." Bonnie admitted, digusted at how stupid he sounded.
A smile breached Sensei's face and that relieved most of Bonnie's stress. He didn't want to upset another person because of his thoughtless actions, so he was glad to see that big, wide grin beaming down at him. Although, there could be something horrible hidden behind that smile, too.
"Well, if you are going to get a tattoo, I only ask that you get something nice. Don't get something that will be an eyesore when you're walking down the street," Sensei suggested.
"Maybe you can get something like a name of someone special to you or something like the hands you sculpt," Chica added, smiling.
All of this positivity made Bonnie smile a bit but that didn't mean he was too keen on getting a tattoo. He would still have to mull over the idea about what he wanted to have permanently on his body, whether it was something cool or generic, or something meaningful or meaningless, or perhaps he'd let one of his neighbors choose. Considering that Bonnie would have to approve of it first.
"Oh, look. Here comes Foxy," Chica pointed out, as she gestured to the man clad in black clothes stalking his way across the street.
Sensei let out something close to a laugh. "I was wondering where he's been all morning. You two have been glued to the hip since the night you were attacked. I'm glad you two have become such great friends."
Bonnie begged to differ. Neither Sensei or Chica knew what was happening between them, and god forbid, he wasn't going to let them find out now. And that's exactly why he rushed over to the door and locked it, earning some peculiar stares from the others as he tried his best to casually walk to the back of the store.
"Now, Bonnie, I'd rather you not play these kinds of games in the shop," Sensei urged, walking back to the locked door and unlocking it to let an awaiting Foxy inside. "Good morning, Foxy. How are you?"
Foxy didn't bother to answer or even acknowledge Sensei, but instead, continued walking towards the counter where Bonnie stood with bewildered eyes.
"Why'd you let him in?!" Bonnir exclaimed, bringing a hand to violently claw at his neck out of panic and embarrassment. The only reason why Foxy would even be here would be if Spring told him everything. That asshole.
Switching his gaze over to Foxy who was quickly bounding over to him, Bonnir noticed the irritated look on his face, which was clearly bad news. Yet, Bonnie remained headstrong and mimicked his boyfriend's glare.
"You had me feeling like shit all night and all morning because you had to throw up?" Foxy asked, obviously annoyed with the situation.
"This isn't my fault. I didn't tell you to leave, I just needed you to get up so I could go to the bathroom," Bonnie argued back, not paying attention to how Sensei and Chica watched them argue back and forth.
"It is your fault. You're the one who wasn't ready," Foxy accused, earning a hurt yet angry look from the young florist.
Bonnie felt his flesh burning with an irritation so intense that his fingernails could no longer relieve his itch.
"If you're so mad, then why did you come over?" Bonnie glowered, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.
By now, Foxy was looming over the shorter florist, but his expression softened just the slightest bit so that his eyebrows were no longer scrunched together in annoyance. Bonnie personally thought he was still mad, though. Or at least, he looked mad. Either that, or this was one of those rare moments where Foxy seemed ucharacteristically troubled.
Red eyes traveled down to find Foxy's hands slowly reaching up towards Bonnie's face until they were gently holding either side of his head. The taller man's feet shuffled closer and his upper body leaned down ever so slightly while the pale florist watched in wonder. After becoming so used to this particular ritual, Bonnie submitted himself to the action that was about to ensue, not until he felt Foxy's warm breath against his lips and nose as he whispered the words "Just let me be with you."
The moment Foxy's lips were on his own, Bonnie felt like he could melt. His face was red, he was sure of it, and he uncrossed his arms to grab a hold of one of Foxy's wrists. It hadn't occurred to either one of them until now how relieving it was to relish in such a tender moment.
Although the kiss was short and sweet, both men felt a mutual sense of forgiveness from one another. They'd probably give each other a hard time about it later on down the road, but they were currently focused on other things. Like Chica and Sensei making subtle utterances from the other side of the shop.
Foxy was the first to look up at the older gentlemen's astonished faces, yet he wasn't bothered by it. In fact, the red-haired man was rather pleased that they finally found out about his relationship with Bonnie.
As for the younger florist, he dreadfully turned around to follow Foxy's line of vision, beet red in the face and with a couple of fingers lightly covering his mouth in embarrassment. Something along the lines of a grimace donned Sensei's features, and Chica's body language told him that she was confused just as well.
Slowly, Bonnie untied his light blue apron and set it on the counter before silently walking passed Sensei and Chica and exiting the shop unscathed from humiliation. Once he was outside, he began to walk down the street, clutching his beating chest with one hand.
He couldn't believe he had just done that. He knew they were there, watching, but he was so absorbed in the moment because of Foxy. And there was no way he could face both Sensei and Chica and explain everything to them without feeling like he was going to suffocate. Bonnie should have had enough self-restraint to push Foxy away, but he wanted to patch things up with the man so badly that he didn't think twice about preventing the kiss. Perhaps he deserved this humiliation after making Foxy feel horrible already.
The sounds of hurried footsteps gradually closed in on Bonnie from behind, and a firm hand rested itself against the florist's back. The same hand led the frail man down a narrow alleyway where Foxy and Bonnie stopped for a break.
"Are you mad at me again?" Foxy asked when Bonnie avoided eye contact with him.
"No, I just wasn't ready to tell them, yet," Bonnie answered, quietly, as he paced back and forth in thought.
"It's been weeks, almost months. It's about time they found out," the red-haired man said, leaning back against one of the walls and scratching his chin.
The smaller man looked over at his companion, and he shuffled over to stand next to him. "I just didn't know how to tell them..."
Foxy snorted. "Well, they know now," he chuckled.
His comment only made Bonnie sigh heavily, and the two were quiet once again. Foxy's eyes wandered Bonnie's frame, looking him over through and through as a smile stretched his thin lips.
"You look good in purple. You should wear it more often," Foxy grinned.
Bonnie finally looked him in the eye and cracked half a smile. "This is sort of my lucky shirt."
"Is it working so far?"
"I mean, it killed two birds with one stone. We're not mad at each other anymore, and now Chica and Sensei know about us. So I guess it's working," Bonnie shrugged, messing with the cuffs of his sleeve.
"Your creepy ass would mention something about killing. Say something romantic for once," Foxy teased as he moved closer to wrap his arms around Bonnie's slender waist and pull their bodies together.
With some hesitation, Bonnie snaked his arms around Foxy's neck and met the other's golden gaze.
"What am I supposed to say, then?" Bonnie wondered aloud, a faint blush forming across his face.
The scarred man raised a brow and smirked delightedly. "Just tell me something I might want to hear, babe."
Anything could have been better than what Bonnie wanted to say, but he had nothing to lose, anyways.
Plus, it was the spur of the moment, and Bonnie wanted Foxy to know how deeply he cared for him. How attached he was and how afraid he was when he thought things might've been over between them. Foxy made his head light and his chest heavy, but he adored the feeling. He found himself always wanting to be around this ill-mannered guy, and when they were apart, he thought about himself constantly. It was frustrating to know that this man drove him utterly insane like nobody else. Yet, Bonnir desperately wanted Foxy to know this.
Besides, he was wearing his lucky lavender shirt, and it hasn't failed him yet.
With lips pulling into a big smile and awestricken eyes gazing up at his very special friend, bonnie opened his mouth and let the words spill out like a bucket of confetti. Messy, messy confetti.
"I love you, Foxy..."
______________
The reaction was immediate.
Foxy's lips were partially open and his eyes were so wide from shock or disgust or anger-- Bonnie didn't know, but it turned his gleeful smile into a look of pure mortification. He hadn't meant to actually say it. It was only a thought.
Now, his hands trembled as he tried to pull his arms away, and his bottom lip quivered as he choked out fragments of an apology. His skin itched and burned like never before, so he was in agonizing pain and discomfort for the millionth time that day.
Until Foxy finally gave a proper reaction. He kept one arm tightly wrapped around Bonnie's waist and had his free hand cradling the florist's head while he buried his face into the shorter man's neck, breathing in his scent.
"Say it again..."
Another brief silence surrounded them.
"I... love you...?" Bonnie said again, saying it more like a question this time.
Stroking Bonnie's soft, purpleish hair, Foxy mumbled into the other man's neck again. "Why?"
Why? Well, Bonnie just thought of a million reasons why only moments ago, so what question was there to It? After taking a few deep breaths, Bonnie finally embraced the red-haired man and leaned into his touch thoughtfully.
"I don't know. Because you're you," Bonnie awkwardly muttered.
"That's so cliché," Foxy chuckled, muffled by Bonnie's body. "One more time. Tell me one more time."
Bonnie smiled this time, speaking in a low voice and with a little more confidence. "I love you, Foxy..."
The tattoo artist's lengthy arms began to constrict around the other man's thin frame, and Bonnie enjoyed the comforting closeness. But he did have to admit, it was pretty strange to be having such a special moment in a filthy back alley. The setting was nothing like what you see in romanticized movies, although, the firsthand experience with a love confession was a million times better.
Now, there were no more fears of rejection, no more tiptoeing around each other to prevent any sort of falling out, and no more questions between the two and their honest feelings. It was like a mysterious and life-draining weight was lifted from both of them.
After a few more seconds of only silence and holding each other, Foxy was the first to reluctantly pull away, and the first thing he did was wipe his eyes with his sleeve. For a moment, Bonnie thought Foxy was trying to be funny by adding a little fake crying, for dramatic effect. But when the man put his arm down, Bonnie saw how red his eyes were and how his face was a little wet beneath his eyes. He didn't know what to say, so he just stood there in silence and uncertainty.
Once Foxy had composed himself, he placed his hands on his hips and paced for a bit. "You know, that's the first time anyone's ever told me they loved me and meant it? You do mean it, don't you?"
Hearing such a thing put Bonnie's heart in anguish, and for some odd reason, he started to feel guilty over something he didn't do or have control over. The worst part of it all was that he didn't know what to do or how to comfort the other man.
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it... And to be completely honest with you, I wasn't really gonna say it because I thought you'd laugh at me or call me weird," Bonnie confessed, wearing a sheepish smile as he spoke.
"Well, I'm just glad you said it. For a while there, I was thinking it was just me feeling this way," Foxy trailed off, while glancing to the side at some cardboard boxes that were abandoned in the alleyway. "Anyways, I'm done being an emotional douchebag. Wanna head back out?"
"Hold on, asshole. You can't just not say it back. That's rude," Bonnie replied with a frown, sticking his hands out to keep Foxy from going anywhere.
"I already said it, didn't I? Y'know, when I said I felt the same way?"
"I mean... that's the half-assed way of doing it, but I guess I'll take what I can get," the florist smiled, and Foxy just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
With that, the man slung his arm around Bonnie's shoulders and began to lead him out of the smelly alley. "You've already seen me cry like a little bitch, what more do you want, Bon-Bon? And by the way, you better not tell anyone 'cause I'll burn you alive."
"How charming," Bonnie jested, as his crimson eyes stared idly through his shaggy hair at Foxy, who huffed out a quick laugh.
The two were almost out of the alley before Foxy swooped in for a chaste kiss and pressed his cheek against Bonnie's. Foxy preferred these small acts of private endearment over those overzealous acts of couples who make a scene to show off their love, anyways. In a way, this just made him feel more honest with himself, like he wasn't trying to impress anyone.
"I love you, too, Bon-bon..."
Foxy felt the other man grin, and he already knew that the florist's pale face was changing in complexion. Now, he just wished he could get Bonnie to cry so he wouldn't feel like the only sap here.
_____________
The door to the tattoo parlor suddenly opened, and a low buzzing sound alerted the tattoo artists of their new guests, only for those artists to realize it was just Foxy and Bonnie. Spring grinned at them, refraining from saying anything snarky.
"The fuck are you smiling at?" Foxy asked, smirking as he and Bonnie sat on the couch in the lobby across from Spring.
The owner of the parlor chuckled and shook his head. "I see you two are all made up now..."
"Yeah. We are. All because your nosy ass had to get involved," the red-haired man minded him.
"Hm. You're welcome for trying to get you to stop crying," Spring shot back, teasingly.
Foxy's frowned at the notion. "I wasn't crying, I was moping. There's a difference."
"It's all the same to me," the parlor owner casually noted.
The whole while, Bonnie was suppressing the urge to humiliate Foxy some more by telling Spring about his crying, but he held back like a respectable human being. Although, he doubted Foxy would be so kind if the situation was flipped.
Spring glanced between Bonnir and Foxy for a moment before asking "So, Bonnie, you finally going to get that tattoo?"
"We were actually talking about that on the way here. He said I get to choose his first tattoo," Foxy grinned, proudly.
The look on Spring's face perfectly expressed the dread Bonnie felt from making that decision.
"You're not worried about what he'll choose?" BB asked from his spot at the middle of the parlor.
"Not really since he's letting me choose his first tattoo, too," Bonnie shrugged, earning some strange looks from the others.
Spring nodded his head and stared at the two with a peculiar look in his eyes, curious to see how events were bound to play out.
"This should be interesting."
___________
I know I rushed them into the "love" scene and I know it's not all that great, but I had other plans. Yeah, I'm garbage, I know.
But anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed it! Might have smut in the next chapter. Might not have smut at all. Who knows.