just gotta stitch the white in!

Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

In the moment between making his request and putting his money on the counter, Steve thought that maybe he should have prefaced his order with a disclaimer. Sum up his entire relationship with Bucky and explain that he loved the guy and was genuinely happy on the occasion of his housewarming but damn if he didn’t take nearly all of the set of good pots with him. As he looked up and met eyes with the florist and his brow raised look he started to do just that. “Unless–”

“Nah man,” he cut him off, a smile spreading on his lips until a cheek dimpled. “I think I can pull that off. Normally people spring for the card with calligraphy to get that message across.”

“That’s where I’m gonna put give me back my pots. Unless you have a bouquet that can say that.”


“Best friend.”

Steve found himself smiling when the man laughed. “Yea, I gotta give you the best fuck you I can, cause you’re not getting those pots back.” When he stepped from behind the counter he could see ‘Sam’ stitched in white on his apron. “Okay, so orange lilies to start, for hatred, because those were your pots.”

As Steve followed Sam around his shop Steve added onto the list of Bucky’s sins. A majority of the stuff he hardly gave a damn about, but every story made Sam laugh or smile, something he found himself more interested in. Sam went on about the meaning of every flower he pulled with a kind of enthusiasm that made his heart race, and Steve encouraged it, making suggestions for bouquet messages based on Sam’s stories about rooming with his best friend Riley.

“Yea, you can say more than you think you can with a bouquet,” Sam said after they brainstormed an arrangement for ‘you don’t have sex as quietly as you think you do’. Steve was doing to suggest another one for drunken escapades but his phone cut him off.

He didn’t even realize how much time got away from him until he looked at the message from Bucky asking if he was going to be in time for dinner. “Speak of the devil,” Steve said. “It’s time for me to deliver these.” Sam stepped back from the vase he’d worked the bouquet into. Steve admired the man’s work; it was a gorgeous way to give the finger to a friend. “That has to be worth more than twenty bucks.”

“We’ll call it even,” Sam said with a wink. “Just send any of your friends with passive aggressive gift needs my way.” Steve gathered the vase in his arms, turned for the door. He stopped just short of leaving.

“You can say anything with flowers right?”

“Damn near if I tried.”

“How would I ask are you free on Friday?”

listen I haven’t written fanfiction since ff.net but @stevesamtrash reblogged that flowers au prompt and I just wanted to TRY