Chapter Text
Reader pov
You walked into the flowershop in the late afternoon with the firm intention to buy the thing you had been tasked with for the small celebration at your office for your coworker's upcoming retirement, and perhaps another plant for yourself on top of that.
Nothing complicated, nothing that should take long, and then you could go back to your appartment and spiral down about your failing relationship and whether it was worth it to give your boyfriend one last chance with a dinner.
You were not very optimistic about it, but something in you knew that if you did not at least give Jabra an honest last chance before breaking up with him, you might end up regretting it.
You shook your head and sternly reminded you that you were only going to think about it once back home. In the meantime, you had a flower arrangement to order and according to all the notes you had found online, this flowershop was both the best and biggest you could find in Grand Line City.
You made your direction to the counter while looking at the many, many plants and flowers in the alleys, all the greenery and soft or vibrant colours making you smile and feel at peace.
And then you saw a red-haired man staring intently at a bucket full of yellow roses like he expected the flowers to solve the grandest mysteries of the universe.
Despite yourself, you could not stop from noting how unfairly handsome he was. Be it his tanned skin, sharp jawline, how tall and broad he was, the short and borderline shaggy haircut with the light stubble giving him a laidback allure, or even the way his shirt clung to his clearly muscular chest, you were ready to bet that man had never had any trouble getting a date in his entire life.
However, if he was about to pick yellow roses for his significant other, you felt like it was your duty to prevent a potentially deadly misunderstanding. You may not know much about flower language, but your meager knowledge was still enough for you to know that yellow roses were a very, very bad option.
"Erm, excuse me sir ?" you approached him politely while hoping with all your might that you were not coming off as creepy. "If you're looking for flowers to offer to someone special, you may want to avoid yellow roses."
"Huh ? Why- well hello there," the red-head turned to you with a surprised expression that quickly turned into a confident grin.
"General Kenobi," you replied automatically, then blushed and brought your hand over your face in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, reflex."
The red-head burst out laughing at your quote, the sound loud and full of joy in a way that felt happy more than mocking, and you tentatively looked back at him, but found yourself under the unfairly sharp scrutiny of two beautiful red eyes shining with mirth.
"A pretty girl who's also a star wars fan, eh ?" he said and added a wink at the same time he turned fully toward you, his grin in full display and making him look way more charming than anyone had any right to be. "Didn't think I'd get so lucky today."
"I'm not-" you spluttered at the obvious misunderstanding. "I just wanted to give you some advice about the flowers !"
"Mh-hm, that so, sugar ?" he teased you with that disarming grin getting even more suave as he kept bending forward. "Sounds to me like an excuse to start the conversation. Not that I mind, obv-"
"Yellow roses are the symbol of infidelity and betrayal in the language of flowers," you blurted out quickly. "I thought I'd tell you in case you were here to buy a bouquet for, erm, for your significant other, and didn't know what they mean."
The red-head's eyes went wide, then he looked to his side at the blooming yellow roses waiting in their bucket, then back at you, and ultimately groaned with both hands roaming over his face.
"Knew it was a stupid idea," he muttered seemingly to himself, then addressed you a roguish smile. "Looks like I owe you for saving me from a very messy discussion, sweetheart. Thanks a lot."
"Just thought I'd give you a little piece of advice, no need for thanks," you replied with a smile, feeling a little more at ease now that the air was cleared. "You might want to check the meaning of the flowers you pick or even ask the person at the counter to help you."
"Or I could just stick with you and your knowledge to help me," he grinned unashamedly.
"What ? No, I don't know much about flower language, really, I've just read the basics," you argued.
"Mmh, hard to believe when you're the most beautiful flower in this building at the moment," the red-head said and winked at you again. "Name's Shanks, by the way."
Did you truly just use a pick-up line on me !?
You found yourself gaping for a moment, and it was enough for another man, just as tall and broad and handsome, but with shoulder-length grey hair despite not looking all that old, and an air of calm confidence about him.
"Oi, what-" he started, then seemed to notice you and his eyes widened for maybe a fraction of second before he pinched his nose. "Sorry miss, is that dumbass bothering you ?"
"Beck !" the red-head – Shanks – protested, though it quickly turned into a beaming smile as he gestured toward you. "This absolute angel just saved my life !"
"Right," the grey-haired man deadpanned, then turned to you with what almost looked like a lightning-fast once-over and the beginning of a smirk. "I'm Beckman, don't mind Shanks here. Can't see a pretty lady like you and not flirt within three seconds."
"Oh, erm," you said before clearing your throat after his more subtle compliment. "It's nothing really, I was just-"
"What are you two doing here ?"
Oh lord please help me.
You were only just recovering from the very unexpected fact that two handsome men who seemed to know each other were apparently hitting on you, when two more appeared on the other side of the alley. The sound of their arrival made you turn around, and your jaw dropped for a second before you somehow composed yourself again.
Another red-head with longer and better groomed hair who looked so much like the first one that they simply had to be related, likely even twins in your opinion, and a black-haired man with piercing gold eyes, the two of them looking more stoic than the first duo, but just as attractive in different ways.
Stars, if you had known this flowershop was a hidden hangout spot for insanely beautiful men-
You're still in a relationship, damn it ! Keep it together ! Even if you haven't had sex in three weeks !
You definitely should have waited until after your potential and impending break-up to come here.
"Come on Shammy, don't get your panties in a twist. I'm just getting help from this gorgeous lady over here who came to gave me precious advice out of the goodness of her heart," Shanks grinned.
The other red-head looked at you and raised an eyebrow, his initially annoyed expression clearing into what you believed might be interest.
"I apologise for my brother's poor manners, miss," he said and then took your hand to bring it to his mouth and kiss your knuckles. "My name is Shamrock, and the man next to me is Mihawk. I hope Shanks has not been too insufferable with you ?"
You had no need for a temperature check to know that you were beet red up to the top of your ears at the completely unexpected gentlemanly gesture and low voice. Holy hell, this was not something that you knew how to handle after the utter lack of attention and affection of your boyfriend for the past weeks.
"You are overwhelming her," the black-haired one stated plainly, then stepped forward to take your hand from the red-head's fingers and briefly held it with a gentle caress of his thumb over your knuckles before letting go. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss… ?"
Whoever turned my knees to jelly, please undo it now.
"Erm," you cleared your throat and made a valliant effort at gathering your sanity back. "Y/N. Pleasure as well. But really, it's nothing, I was just on my way to the counter and figured I should, well, tell Shanks about the flowers he was looking at."
You could see all three men who had arrived after the beginning of your conversation look slightly confused, but then their eyes followed your finger to the bucket of yellow roses and from what you could tell, at least the ones answering to Shamrock and Mihawk instantly realised what they meant.
"Brother, tell me you were not about to get any of us yellow roses," Shamrock groaned with his right hand coming to massage his temple.
"Roses are pretty and yellow is a bright sunny colour !" Shanks protested. "How was I supposed to know they're a symbol of infidelity and betrayal ?"
But you got stuck on a very specific part of Shamrock's sentence and your eyes widened just as definitely not safe for work ideas came into your mind.
"Wait, for you ?" you asked in surprise, then turned your head to look at all four gorgeous men in turn. "You mean you four are…" you trailed.
"Not exactly, but a common acquaintance suggested getting each other's flowers as a bonding time," the grey-haired man – Beckman – replied calmly. "We're friends first, and occasionally more… when we find a good reason to share," he added with a pointed look at you.
The implied suggestion was more transparent than cristal and you could feel your blush coming back with a vengeance, if it had even left in the first place.
"I've still got a boyfriend !" you blurted out.
You had never felt like four laser-sharp shark-like gazes zeroed in on you at the same time with the same intensity as missiles acquiring a target, but it seemed today was full of firsts.
But then all four men exchanged glances for a few seconds and while it felt like a full conversation was exchanged, they quickly gave you a little more room and their postures turned from interested to relaxed.
"A fortunate man," Mihawk commented neutrally.
"Very fortunate," Shanks added with a hum. "So you're here to get him flowers ?"
You huffed at that, all tension forgotten at the idea of gifting flowers to a man who claimed being a shifter meant their scents were too potent for his sensitive nostrils and had used it as an excuse to never buy you any.
"Definitely not," you denied. "A coworker of mine is going to retire soon and I volunteered to order the flower arrangement for the party, that's all."
"That's nice of you," Beckman stated.
"Someone has to do it," you shrugged. "And I don't mind."
"Then maybe we could abuse your kindness and ask for your help in choosing flowers for each of us ?" Shamrock asked you while looking you straight in the eyes.
"Erm, I mean- well, sure ?" you blabbered. "But I really don't know all that much about flowers."
"Regardless, we would appreciate your help. You already saved Shanks from quite the massive mistake, after all," the red-head smirked with a look at his brother.
"See if I ever get you flowers again after today," Shanks snorted, but you could tell his tone was more playful than anything. "What do you say, princess, gonna extand your kindness to all of us poor souls ? Unless the boyfriend is waiting for you, of course."
The mention of your boyfriend sent a bitter taste in your mouth and you were sure it showed on your face.
"Yeah, I doubt that," you muttered. "Haven't heard of him in days and we haven't seen each other in two weeks."
Then you inwardly slapped yourself for discussing your pathetic love life with strangers.
"Sorry," you apologised and changed the subject at once, "and sure, I'll help you pick flowers for each other, but I really don't think I can do more than any web research will do."
"Don't look so down, you're gonna get wrinkles before me," Beckman told you.
"How about we all walk around and tell you a little about ourselves ?" Shamrock suggested.
"That will definitely help narrow the options," you admitted with a smile. "Do you each have a favourite colour and season, by any chance ?"
You left the flowershop one hour later with your order placed, four new numbers added in your phone on top of an invitation to a group chat, and a ridiculously big bouquet of flowers for yourself that your new friends – emphasis on friends – had insisted to offer you after you helped them select a few simple flowers for each of them.
It had not mattered to them that you had mostly used your phone to check the meaning of almost all the flowers you came across, they insisted your tremendous assistance had saved them from several misunderstandings and possible spats and thus deserved a reward, on top of refusing to let you be the only one of the five to leave the shop without flowers.
And truth be told, you had smiled and laughed more in the short time spent in the company of Shanks, Beckman, Shamrock, and Mihawk, than you had in the past month.
So after a promise of friendship – with the three other men apologising for Shanks' never-ending flirting – you had relented and agreed to exchange phone numbers.
It was just numbers, after all, and all four of them had very respectfully backed off after learning you were in a relationship and could not offer more than friendship to them.
Besides, you never met anyone other than your coworkers and your boyfriend anymore, so making new friends would probably do you good in the short and long-run.
Three days later, while you were still getting used to your phone blowing up with messages at the most random times of day or night, you saw one from Jabra, whom you had saved under a wolf emoji.
It was a reply to your request that you had dinner together the next Friday night at a restaurant in East Blue specialised in Flavence cuisine, to confirm he would join you there and just send him the time of the reservation.
The news did not bring you as much joy as it probably should, and you steeled your resolve. This dinner was a last chance to talk things out and try to work through the issues of your relationship. You had not much hope about it, but you still were determined to go through with it for principle's sake if nothing else.
Now, to see whether your boyfriend would take that last chance or not.