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It was a cacophony of color, all spilling out over each other. So much red in the lush petals of roses, intermixed with pinks and yellows and whites of a dozen other types of flowers. Each bouquet, small and large tied together carefully with bits of ribbon, separated with sheer crinkly wrappers and floral sleeves. The final touch to each was the small card tucked away amidst the flowers. It was an array of beauty, utterly at odds with Keith's dark leather jacket and the sleek chrome of his motorcycle. Keith swung his leg over the bike, already pulling up the list of addresses and the gps on his phone.
"Just remember to take it easy," Shiro said from his side, giving the delivery crate one last firm shake just to make sure it was secure. Keith glanced back at the man just in time to see the amused smile dancing on Shiro's lips. "We want the flowers to get there in one piece."
Keith snorted quietly, shaking his head as he started the bike.
"You're not gonna let me forget that, are you." One time. It had been one time that had resulted in a ruined bouquet and a trail of flower petals on the street. Shiro just laughed, and squeezed Keith's shoulder, amusement sparking in his eyes. But only for a moment before the florist’s attention was drawn back to the shop, called by the tell-tale jingling of bells.
"I should go take care of them. But thanks for the help, Keith. You know how crazy Valentines day gets."
With the five years he had been helping out with Shiro's flower shop, Keith knew all too well. It was just a little hole in the wall place, tucked away on a side street. Barely advertised beyond word of mouth, but still people found their way inside. Drawn by the beauty of Shiro's flowers, the care put into each of his arrangements and the whispers of that extra touch he put into each and every one. Some might have written off the little card included with each bouquet nothing but a sales gimmick -- a symbolic meaning behind each arrangement only. But there was true magic in each of those charms, lovingly drawn from the natural essence of every single flower. Charms to ease a person's worries, help them through their grief, to bring health and prosperity. And today of all days, to warm hearts, bring happiness, and allow the seeds of love to flourish.
Shiro stepped back inside the shop, that brilliant smile on his lips, and Keith felt his heart swell just a touch. Through the glass windows, Keith could see him leaning down, offering a yellow tulip to the little girl holding her mother's hand. The girl’s face lit up as she accepted the flower, pressing it to her nose. That single flower would be just as cherished as every carefully curated bouquet. The man changed the world in some tiny way with every flower he grew.
Shiro glanced back and for a lingering breath their eyes met. It took Keith a moment longer to realize he was staring. Heat flooded his cheeks as he whipped his gaze back forward, hurriedly shifting his bike into gear. The engine revved and he took off down the street.
It was only a fraction of his usual speed, Keith mindful of the precious bit of magic that was Shiro's gift to the world.
❖
All day he went back and forth. Going from the shop to half a dozen or so stops and then back again. It wasn't the biggest city in the world, but Shiro's little shop was one of those local secrets that drew all the attention come the holidays. Keith delivered flowers of love and devotion to office workers and home owners, each arrangement simple but unique in their beauty. It was nearly 3pm when he caught up with a man and his daughter, backpack still on her shoulders, heading up their front walk. A single red rose for the man, and a bouquet of lilacs, lilies, and morning glories for the girl -- a distant wife's gift to her husband and child while pulled away from home for business.
Their faces, the simple delight, followed Keith all the way back to the store.
It drew a shadow from his heart -- one that had reflected on his father's face whenever Keith had asked about his mother. A shadow which had spread out across Keith's life as his father and his home were all lost to him.
But then Shiro. Shiro still there back at the shop, talking quietly with a young woman, expression thoughtful as he jotted down some notes. A new customer, and another charm Shiro was preparing. He always took the time to get to know them, to make something uniquely suitable. Keith paused a moment, arms full of flowers to be loaded for the next delivery, watching the way Shiro tapped the pen thoughtfully against the paper. Quietly asking a question of the customer, only for the woman to flush and nod. Shiro's eyes danced with warmth.
And then, as if he could feel Keith's gaze on him, the man looked up. For the second time that day, he caught Keith staring. A broad smile lit up his face as he lifted his hand to wave. Keith flushed and spun on his heel, shoving the door open with his shoulder as he remembered what he was doing. Funny how after all this time, Shiro could still make his heart flutter in his chest.
❖
Hours later, Keith weaved in and out of traffic, the crate on his motorcycle empty save for a few scattered petals that would likely not survive the trip. Every flower and bouquet had been delivered, Keith playing just a small role in bringing something special to their lives. But there was something he looked forward to even more, and it was in the anticipation in his eyes, hidden by his helmet's darkened visor.
It was 10 minutes past 7 when Keith pulled back up in front of the shop, Shiro already there at the door, holding it open for the younger man. Keith, swinging himself off his bike, noted the tired, but pleased look on Shiro's face. The look of a man who had made the most of the day.
"Thanks for all the help today," Shiro started, stepping back as he gestured Keith inside. "Valentines day always gets kind of crazy. I couldn't have done-- mmph!"
Keith was not known for his patience. And it had taken him a good month's worth of patience to not turn each subtle gesture or lingering touch into something more throughout the day. Every ounce of self control to not embarrass himself or distract Shiro when the man was hard at work. But there was no longer any need to wait as he pushed bodily up against Shiro, their lips slanted together, falling open as they fell into each other. Shiro's arms wrapped instinctively around Keith as they both stumbled inside. Keith groped blindly behind him, finding the lock of the door and turning it with a resounding click.
"I've been wanting to do this all day," he blurted out against Shiro's lips, pulling back only a moment. But Shiro was pulling him in again, one hand cupping Keith's chin as the other settled on the small of his back.
"Me too," Shiro murmured. His lips brushed against Keith's slower, softer, a far more refined heat. "Had to hold back though, or else I'd just abandon the customers."
God, he couldn’t say he would have minded stealing away for a bit. The temptation to abandon the evening cleanup and closing routine right now was strong as his fingers curled in the front of Shiro's shirt. It was all he could do to not pull it off of the man in that moment.
"Let's head home. I’ll help you clean the place tomorrow," Keith suggested instead.
But Shiro was shaking his head, smile almost sheepish as he caught Keith's hand in his, pulling back a little. "Not just yet. I know we said no valentines gifts--" Keith couldn't help but think of the overly cheesy card waiting for Shiro back at home. "-- but I made you something anyway."
And with Keith's curiosity officially piqued, Shiro led him towards the back of the shop. And not just into the back room but towards the back door painted with a mural of flowers that seemed far older than the shop itself. Keith held his breath as Shiro's fingers brushed over the wood of the door. His touch was as good as any key. The change in the air was palpable as Shiro pulled the door open, that sweet fragrance of another world washing over him.
Shiro caught Keith's hand in his own and led him through the door.
Stars dotted the sky high above them. But all around there was no sign of the alleyway, the city streets or anything that logic informed him should have been on the other side of that door. No, the city was a step away and yet they couldn't be further from it. Trees grew wild all around them, branches stretching up towards the sky. But always with plenty of space to let the starlight shine through. Keith had always suspected Shiro had done that on purpose.
Because this was Shiro's world. One that he had long since stopped questioning, just as he had stopped questioning the magic in the man's flowers or the illusion that hid his inhuman arm from the outside world. It was as if nature itself had grown from the old wounds on his shoulder, vines twisting and twining together until it had become a part of Shiro. Just as this entire grove was a part of him. Flower beds scattered in every direction, the plots seeming scattered and wild. But Shiro knew this place as well as he knew his own self, and Keith would never be lost here.
"Come on, it's this way. I've been working on it a while." Shiro practically beamed, fingers threading with Keith's as he tugged him forward. Together, they set off along one of the many winding paths of Shiro's Hollow.
It wasn't far. Only ten minutes before Shiro paused, insisting on slipping behind Keith to press his hands over his boyfriend's eyes. It wouldn't do to ruin the surprise, after all.
Keith felt the air change. A new fragrance that only grew all the sweeter as Shiro guided him carefully forward.
"How much farther?" Keith asked even as he reached forward, instinctively feeling for anything rising up in his path.
"Keith, I'm not gonna let you run into anything," Shiro laughed, and Keith wrinkled his nose even as he rolled his eyes. Not that Shiro could see it. "And we're just...about....here."
Shiro's hands fell away and Keith couldn't find the words.
It wasn't the greenery that he had come to expect from Shiro's heart. That was still behind them, the grass and foliage giving way to something else entirely. The land collapsed and rose in deep gorges or high plateaus. Layers upon layers of strata painting a portrait of history as far as the eye could see. A place that some might have seen only as arid desert. But there was still life here -- everything from the tough desert scrub to isolated groups of pine or juniper trees that dotted the landscape.
"Shiro, you made this?" A vision from both their memories. How many sunsets had they watched from this very cliff-side? And those were the very same paths they had raced along, challenging each other until life had drawn them away. Shiro was home, but to Keith this was something even older. Memories of his father bouncing him on his knee, pointing out stars and constellations in the cool night air of the desert.
"It took me a while, since greenery comes more naturally to me. But...yeah, I did." Shiro's hand slipped free of Keith's, the man drawing back a moment. "Though I took a few liberties."
There was no time for Keith to ask just what Shiro meant by that. Because they were blooming all around them -- hundreds of stargazer lilies opening before his very eyes, petals painted in gentle pinks and purples and edged in white. Their faces turned upwards towards the very stars that Shiro and Keith both loved so much.
"Keith." His name on Shiro's lips drew Keith's attention back up. And Shiro was right there, catching Keith's hands in his own once more. "I've been working on this a while. But I wanted you to have a place here. Somewhere you could go whenever everything outside of here got to be too much." It was a place of memories and love and Keith swallowed heavily, fingers tightening around Shiro's.
"And there's just one more part of your gift." Shiro's touch was gentle as he cupped Keith's hand between both of his own -- flesh and wood alike. His fingers stroked over the back of Keith's hand, Shiro concentrating a moment as his eyes darkened. And when he pulled his hands away, a ring rested upon Keith's finger. It was a delicate curling of sprigs and leafs around his finger, intricately carved out of nature itself.
Keith lifted up his hand, turning it this way and that, admiring the fine craftsmanship.
"It's a key," Shiro explained, that gentle smile on his face. "One that will bring you right to this place. Just press it against any door and once you go through you'll be here."
A sanctuary. An escape. A refuge from the world when it got to be too much.
Keith's tongue felt thick in his throat. He'd never been good with words and now, with that emotion cloying its way up inside of him, they failed him again now. For a moment he could only stare at Shiro. And the only other thing to do was to fall into the man's arms. Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro, smiling as he whispered his thank you into Shiro's shoulder. Thank you and I love you and soft smiles that melted into soft kisses until they fell into each other amidst the flowers.
"Happy Valentines Day, Shiro," he would whisper later, lying satiated and sleepy with Shiro's arm warm around him. It was in that quiet moment, with Shiro fast asleep next to him, that Keith admired the ring upon his finger. It was a Valentines Day to cherish, for it was the day he had been gifted the key to Shiro's heart.