You know the desk. Six plants deep, a grow light clipped to the cubicle wall, and a monstera he named and will tell you about if you ask. He's the reason your floor smells like actual oxygen instead of carpet and burnt coffee. Buying for him looks easy — he likes plants — and turns into a minefield fast, because he already owns the obvious stuff and has opinions about the rest.
The move is not to buy him another plant. He has a wishlist, he has sources, and he'll re-pot whatever you hand him within the week anyway. Buy the infrastructure instead: the light his windowless cubicle can't provide, the planters that make a $6 nursery pot look intentional, and the small tools that separate a guy who keeps plants from a guy who grows them.
What's below runs from a ten-dollar pair of snips to a grow light that costs more than his desk chair. Match the tier to how deep he's in — and when you're unsure, nobody in the care-kit section has ever been mad to get more.