go back flashy
media: dragon age: inquisition
ship: dorian/(orion) lavellan
originally published: on tumblr, march 2015
word count: 1297
notes: in which the man who works in the library across the street effortlessly catches orion's attention. (set in the wicked grace universe; i.e. a modern au.)
Flashy.
That’s the first word that pops into Orion’s head when he sees him for the first time.
See, Orion’s not a daydreamer. He takes his job at the flower shop very seriously. His coworkers always accuse him of having tunnel-vision – whatever that means.
(Orion’s doing his job. They’re all just slackers.)
But the guy who works at the library, right across the street from the shop?
He’s so fucking flashy. How could Orion possibly not see him?!
Orion leans over the counter and nudges his co-worker – Sera. “Hey. Who is that?”
“What?” Sera’s elbow-deep in a soil-filled flowerpot. She fidgets and tries to blow a strand of her hair away from her eyes, then hisses when it stubbornly falls right back into place. “Fucking tits!”
“Stop squirming, you’re getting soil on the counter.” Orion brushes the offending strand of hair back for her.
Sera sticks her tongue out at him. “I’ll get soil on you! Got some right here!” She raises a handful of soil up.
“Sera, you remember what happened the last time we threw soil on each other.”
Sera cackles and drops the soil back in the flowerpot. “’Course I remember! Josie was right pissed!”
“Exactly. And Josephine’s fucking terrifying when she’s pissed. Don’t anger the woman who’s in charge of our employment.” Orion glances back towards the store front.
They spent hours setting up the display window – so many new arrangements, all featuring fresh, seasonal plants. It came out beautifully.
On one hand, it’s wonderful… Because flowers. Orion loves flowers.
On the other hand?
It attracts people. A lot of people. Orion doesn’t particularly like people.
Flowers are better than people.
He sighs. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?” Sera inspects her soil-covered hands. “Look at how gross I am!”
“Who’s the guy that works at the library?”
“Which one?” Sera peeks out towards the display window, too.
“There’s more than one?”
She rolls her eyes. “Did he have a thing?”
Orion glares at her.
“A thing!” Sera puts one of her soil-covered fingers against her upper lip, but she doesn’t seem to care. “All… Moustache-y!” She wiggles her finger in place.
“He did, I think.”
“Oooh.” Sera pauses, deep in thought. “Think his name’s Ryan?”
“Ryan?” Orion echoes.
She shrugs. “Not sure. He’s fancy.” She puts her hands back in the flower pot. “What, you like him or something?”
Orion raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know him.”
Sera laughs. “You don’t need to know someone to like them, Ori. There’s loads of girls I don’t know, and I like them all.”
“Well, good for you.” Orion leans against the counter, then curses himself for glancing over at the library across the street. Again.
A customer walks into the shop – a frazzled-looking blond guy with a somewhat prominent scar across his lip – and Orion welcomes the distraction.
That man – Ryan. He was just too flashy. That’s the reason why Orion can’t get him out of his head.
Soon he’ll just fade away into a memory, as all strangers do.
Or so Orion thought.
He starts doing this thing.
He – unintentionally! – gets lost in thought. He catches himself staring towards the library.
And whenever Ryan is outside, Orion’s gaze steadily follows him.
(Evidently, Ryan’s outside often. He goes to the coffee shop next to the library very frequently. So weird.)
He never gets less flashy.
He consistently wears these ensembles – they’d look tacky on other people, but, on him?
They look okay.
Good, even.
Orion especially likes it when Ryan’s sleeves are rolled up.
Mostly because Ryan has tattoos all over his arms, and Orion knows how to appreciate art.
“Just fucking go for it,” Sera says, very often.
“Stay out of this,” Orion replies, equally often.
And things stay like that for a while.
Orion’s content with things staying like that.
He has a steady routine.
He’s the first one at the shop on most days – his apartment’s close to it, after all – and he loves his job, so why not?
He loves being the first one there. Going around the shop, taking care of the plants…
It’s comforting.
It’s also quiet.
Orion likes quiet.
He’s fine with opening up the shop, once it means that he gets that moment in the morning, alone with the plants.
He’s fussing over a vase of gardenias – changing the water, clearing out the dying ones – when he hears a knock on the door.
A steady tap-tap-tap, right against the glass.
Orion doesn’t look up immediately. He sighs, irritated. “We’re not even open yet,” he grumbles.
Then he looks up, and Ryan’s there.
He’s standing outside.
And, oh god, his sleeves are rolled up.
Orion swallows - his throat feels so tight. Can he even speak?!
He stares at Ryan for a while. He’s really not sure what should be done.
Ryan raises an eyebrow.
A manicured eyebrow.
Suddenly very self-aware, Orion pretends to adjust one last gardenia, then walks over to the door.
“Hey?” He says, as he opens it. “We’re not, uh, open. Not yet.”
“I know that,” Ryan says, and Orion’s gaze is fixated on his mustache because it’s just so much more marvellous up close, holy shit. “I just – listen, this is going to sound absolutely absurd…” Ryan sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “But I saw you the other day – arranging that display.” He points towards the store’s display window. “And I thought you were very, erm…” Ryan takes a deep breath. “Precise. Exacting. Meticulous –”
“Yes, those are all synonyms,” Orion says, without thinking.
Ryan’s eyes widen for a moment, but he laughs. Loudly.
“They are, aren’t they? Inane ramblings aside… At the risk of being far too forward, I wanted to find out your name.”
The knot in Orion’s throat gets tighter.
And his hands are sweating.
He doesn’t trust himself with this forming words business – there’s no way he won’t somehow be rude (though Ryan seems to think that’s funny?).
So he simply points at his nametag.
“Ah, right. Your name - it’s right there, isn’t it?” Ryan laughs, and it sounds a bit… Stiffer.
Is he embarrassed?!
How did Orion manage to be rude without even saying anything?!
“No – That’s… Spelling.” Spelling?! “How it’s… Spelt?” Cease and desist, immediately. Orion lets his arm fall back to his side. “N-Never mind! I’m Orion. Orion Lavellan. And you’re – Ryan? Is that… Your name?”
Ryan makes a face.
He squints and kind of scrunches his nose up.
‘He’s adorable,’ Orion thinks.
And, oh no, oh no, oh no.
That isn’t what he wants to think, not at all.
“Alas, that is most certainly not my name,” Ryan says.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“I – Who told you that?!” Not-Ryan starts laughing, again. Not the stiff laugh. The real laugh.
“My co-worker! Sera! The blonde girl!” Despite being mortified, Orion feels the corners of his lips tug. “She said – she said that your name’s Ryan!”
“Were you asking her for my name, Orion?” Not-Ryan grins.
It’s such a cheeky grin.
Orion’s beyond mortified, for so many different reasons.
“I did, yes!” He huffs. “Because you - you wear flashy things! You stand out!”
“Says the man with face tattoos,” Not-Ryan retorts, amiably. “They’re quite lovely, I might add.”
‘Is he flirting with me?!’ Orion’s almost certain that he’s going to spontaneously combust; he’s so utterly embarrassed in this moment.
“Yes, says the man with the face tattoos.” Orion bites his lower lip. “So, then – Not-Ryan. Do I get to learn your name?”
Not-Ryan’s grin widens. “Why, yes, Orion. Yes, you do.” He cackles. “It’s Dorian. Dorian Pavus, to be precise. It’s lovely to meet you.”
He reaches his hand out - for a handshake.
As Orion’s hand touches Dorian’s hand, he smiles.
“Yes. It’s good to meet you, too.”