Chapter Text
The early morning is a surprise and, really, he won’t go and tell Yuno he doubts people would be chomping at the bit to get some pretty weeds so fucking early because what did he know about flower shops? Exactly, besides it wasn't a wholly unwelcome one given the state of his home right now.
When he had returned from his capture he had arrived to pure pandemonium. He swore if he wasn’t gravely injured they would have inflicted bodily harm with how careless he was, getting taken so easily and not alerting them until it was too late. It was a regret, to be sure, but as always one to roll with the punches he didn’t stress too much on hypotheticals. He was in, relative, good health, back home and with even more intel they can use to their advantage of the state of affairs in The Company. A net positive he would like to think. Sadly, it seems, he was the only one to think so.
“No.”
Luciano sighed but his gaze did not waver. “We ain’t asking, Lang.”
“That’s great.” He nodded, bed–ridden despite being able to fully articulate his limbs. “No.”
“It’s just so you get time to rest. We were driving ourselves crazy trying to find ya and, well, you know some of the others, they don’t wanna see you disappear again.” There was a wariness in his eyes, no doubt anticipating his reaction, but underneath that there was a deep–seated exhaustion that caved through the truth of his words. “It’s not long term.”
“I was being kidnapped. I didn't have a goddamn choice in that.” He scowled darkly, despite his position, his glare felt defensive to Luciano in a way that put a chill up his spine.
“We aren’t blaming ya—”
“Sure fucking sounds like it!” He exploded and it wasn’t nearly as sharp as he had intended to be and if that didn’t just highlight the very issue they were talking about. “I don’t need no bodyguard I don’t even–I don’t even understand why we’re even discussing this, Luciano, this is not happening. End of story.”
“Ah, see we figured you’d be like that.” There was Tony just as smart assed as he remembered. “That's why they called me in.”
“Where the fuck you’ve been, huh? Thought you abandoned ship.” Lang tried to get some of his bitterness out of his voice but he was not successful.
“I didn’t abandon anything you drama queen.” Tony huffed and folded his arms tightly over his chest. “We gotta figure this out, Lang, you shouldn’t have been that easy to nab.”
“I told you what I know.”
“Nah, you told us what you remember but there are still a whole bunch of gaps that you just—aren’t remembering suddenly. Like how you escaped your cuffs in the basement.”
“I’m just that good.”
Luciano hid a grin and Tony sighed, not believing it for a second. “Come on, man, you gotta work with us.”
“Am I getting interrogated? Should I be calling up our lawyer?”
Tony scoffed. “Cause not.”
“No? Great, we’re done then. I’m going to go take a dump and when I come back you can tell me how we somehow got three different gangs up our ass on our own goddamn turf in the one week I was gone.”
Luciano, Harry and Tony shared a collective look, all varying degrees of disappointed by the turn of events but not the slightest surprised.
“Told ya,” Harry piped up, settling down on the couch for what will be a very accusatory and angry meeting. “You know how he gets.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Luciano sighed, dropping into his own seat. “What a pain…”
"That's our pain, boys." Tony commiserated, the most experienced with dealing with the others mood swings. "Not too late to jump ship to The Lost."
There was a mist wafting out the door when Lang finally gathered enough energy to push himself in. The entire room was being gently mistied with water, all the strange and unusual plants Yuno had acquired and collected preening up at the haze, like a giant collective sigh of relief. The main speakers were playing something quieter than their usual pop dribble and Lang would bet he was listening to Yuno’s own mix he played as he opened up. Something with a lot of instrumental, heavy piano, very dramatic and made sense for what he knew of the man.
He spots the florist in the corner soothing what was a very prickly and sharp plant, the mouth of the thing opening and shutting in a frequency Lang found disturbing and vaguely threatening. More than content to just watch the man from a distance, he let his presence remain undiscovered to give himself time to observe.
He had gotten thinner since he last saw him, not much of a difference really but there was a thinness around his eyes and a weariness in his smile that spoke of fatigue. Could be plenty of reasons behind it, perfectly reasonable and sane reasons, but he couldn’t help but speculate and obsess over what it could mean. From what he had gleaned from Yuno’s sister he had been out of commission for a while, a long enough time for return customers to ask around for him. Then there was the whole mystery around those injuries, ‘planting injury’ aside there was a clear story that Yuno was attempting to cover up to his family and friends but for what means Lang couldn’t know. There were far too many unknown variables.
Lang watched as the other man fed the monstrous plant a cube of red meat and shuddered at the graphic way it chomped down on it, God this store was bizarre.
“Mr Lang!” Yuno startles, finally spotting him lingering in the doorway. Once it registers who it was though, the largest smile Lang has ever seen—and does not deserve—sprouts on his face. “You’re here so early! I uh—didn’t even put out the supplies for you to work on!”
“You’re good, baby.” He says, because he meant it, if it meant a single second less around that monster, Lang could live with pulling a fast one. “I’ll even help you, if you want.”
“Yeah? That would be great.” Yuno smiles warmly and all the suspicion Lang had worked himself up into having was swept away with it. “You’re a natural assistant already!”
Was it weak to trust a civilian this quickly no matter how harmless he appeared? Of course it was but paranoid overlord he might be he was still a man who likes pretty things. Pretty smiles, pretty flowers, pretty boys.
They work silently together, side by side, their tasks at laying out the stems and Yuno’s more conventional flowers in bundles to wrap. Lang was getting sucked into the pattern of it, a calm washing over him with every bunch he tied off and put aside. The work was monotonous, unexciting but dependable.
He had always liked that about Civilians.
“I might need to watch out,” Yuno’s mouth quirks up. “You’re quick.”
“Maybe your sister needs to watch out—” Lang grunted, feeling satisfied with his colour blocking and design for each bundle. “I’ll be coming for her ass, you see how quick I got this? Pretty amazing huh?”
Yuno nods, mercilessly choosing to overlook his showboating. “We’ll be done in no time! Really I should’ve left it for Ray Mond while I was gone but I like doing it. To be honest, out of all the flowers here, these bunch they’re—uh, they’re my favourite.”
Lang frowns at this, staring at the unremarkable bunch with doubt. They were all thin, not very long or, frankly, all that pretty to look at. If he had passed by them in the store or on the street he wouldn’t even think twice, they looked like the flowers that grow on top of weeds.
“The dollar bunch.”Yuno caught the tail end of his ruminations if his rueful laughter had anything to say about it. “They’re a good deal, affordable for me, affordable for others and I don’t know…”
He grabs one of the bundles Lang had rolled out, a dim sort of smile tucked onto his face as his fingers deftly tie the ends with ribbon. “Anyone can have ‘em. If you wanna do something nice for uh—someone you care for it’s small but it’s something, right?”
Lang shook his head.“I don’t understand you sometimes.”
If Lang didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Yuno was pouting at that comment. “It’s cheap! I’m telling you it’s good business.”
“It’s horrible business, the materials you need to wrap 'em up, the product you could sell at base price—none of that justifies the price you sell for.” He points out, but still diligently wrapping them as he was told to do.
“Yeah, well, It’s my business.” Yuno huffs and there wasn’t much Lang could say to dispute that; even though a part of him wondered what compelled him to argue in the first place.
A couple people came and went as they worked side by side, most there for the other section of the store but a few came by to talk to Yuno directly. As Lang was moved from the dollar bunch and set to water the smaller, more delicate batch that couldn’t stand the harshness of the retic that was set over most of the bigger—read dangerous— ones and just sat back to watch again. It seems though it wasn't in his job description, he couldn't hold himself back from just watching his new friend do what he did best.
Although the florist was intelligent in his own right it was obvious he didn’t have the best instincts if he didn’t notice that a majority of his clientele that came to talk to him didn’t give a single fuck about flowers. Lang sat behind the desk measuring out string and cutting end pieces stupefied that a guy could be that oblivious to that kind of attention. His joke flirting was just that, a joke, but there was always a nugget of truth in most things he said and that included Yuno in all his strange and beautiful glory.
Yuno was a good looking guy, you can’t deny that. Sure he wore baggier clothes than most, he’d look rather well in fitted suits or dress shirts but that's neither here nor there, and his hair was like a messy, fluffy mop but it didn’t seem to mind much for most of his visitors that interrupted him throughout the day. Most of them men, like these guys, who barely spared the coffee girl a glance making a beeline to his section.
“Hey Yuno,” The taller one looks vaguely familiar, with a light voice, english accent. “It’s good to see you back, we missed you!”
“I wasn’t gone all that long,” Yuno chuckles nervously, looking back at him every once and a while which Lang thought was unnecessary-he was very good at cutting rope- but still rewarded with a wave. “How’s it been for you two?”
“Bored.” The smaller, more irritating one answered for them, a whine in his voice that really grated on Lang’s nerves. His hand skirting over Yuno’s shoulder made the dislike grow. “It’s not the same without your smile lighting up our day.”
Lang was a grown man who knew how to keep his emotions in check and when to keep his, completely unwarranted, irritation at bay. He just wishes he could get at least some acknowledgement from someone how well he was keeping that anger inside and not, say, biting off that hand that went far lower than he deemed necessary.
It looks like his glaring daggers didn’t go unnoticed with the tall one—a man he knew Lang realised with a jolt, his former business partner—giving him a look that only serves to piss him off more.
“Uh huh.” Yuno laughs and they continue the conversation, moving past the comment like it was a regular occurrence, something that made Lang feel only a little moody. “I imagine you’re always looking for brighter days, heard you got rejected at the casino, Eli.”
“God dammit!” Like he was skewered in the heart ‘Eli’ writhes pathetically on his amused friend. “How’d you hear about that!? You were gone!”
“Better question would be how wouldn’t I hear about that, everyones talking about how you set the place on fire and tried to mop up the flames. It was impressive how bad it was.”
“Yunoo, you’re the worst!” The smaller one whines again and Lang decides to tune out now before his hearing starts going.
Finishing up his large stake of string and ribbon and putting them under the desk with the other smaller scale equipment, Max came closer, smart enough not to just interrupt him or ask stupid questions that he wouldn’t answer, instead sitting with him, a warm mug in his hands.
“They aren’t happy about the disappearance.” The older man states, cheerful in the patient way he is. “wanted me to come check, see if you're still alive and what not.”
“They noticed?” He says in response, a little pissed at the confrontation but also genuinely surprised they had caught him out so quickly.
Max laughs. “They’re your men, of course they noticed.”
“They gonna drag me back now? Kick in the doors, smash the windows?” Lang sighs, dragging a hand over his face.
“Oh I’m sure they would be doing all that by now if that was something they felt was necessary.” He replies nonplussed, taking a sip of his tea. “They’ll come eventually but I do think you already knew that.”
“You're still taking orders even now, Max? What? Wine not as popular nowadays so you gotta play guard dog?” Lang regarded his old business partner critically. “You should apply yourself more, you got a good head for business, what a waste of talent.”
“Ah, I suppose I am wasting my talents on your group, hm? I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Max replies sunnily, nodding to him respectfully before dragging away the smaller, pathetic, one by the collar. “Come along Eli, I think we’ve taken up enough of Yuno’s time.”
“I’m not a—Oi! Hey!” Eli squirms in his deceptively strong grasp. “I’ll send you the resume again tomorrow, Yuno! The other ten must’ve gotten lost in the mail!”
Yuno waves him out. “They didn’t!”
“Good to see you again, Yuno, as always you are a delight we hardly deserve!” Max chirps, waving back with one hand and dragging Eli with the other. “And to you as well Mr Buddha, this has been…illuminating.”
Lang waves him off. “Yeah, yeah, try to keep that mutt of yours on a leash; he looks like a biter.”
With a sigh Max drags away a bucking and thrashing Eli who only got more riled up with Lang’s comment attempting to free himself from Max and making threatening grabbing motions to the older, and wholly unimpressed, man. Yuno hums to himself in a way Lang is starting to realise is muffled amusement.
Making flower bouquets was relaxing, Lang decided. Along the same lines though, once you get over the actual art of it, making flower bouquets was incredibly, endlessly, embarrassing. Which, a hard thing to do, embarrass Lang Buddha, a man who’s stared down countless humiliating moments and one upped them tenfold. Yet somehow this strange, bizarre, odd florist convinced him to do it. That’s what he gets for supporting small businesses he supposes.
“Ignore them.” Yuno attempts to encourage as the heckling in the store grows louder. “They couldn’t do half as good a job as you, guarantee it.”
“Thank you, Yuno, I was real worried about that- ” Lang glares frostily at the chortling men in the corner who have done nothing but make a mess and be general jackasses to those still in the store. “Oi you two!”
“Yeah?” The more confrontation one replies. No one Lang recognises—bulky, a shock of red hair and $5 glasses with the price tag still on. The real point of interest though was the black half sleeve that ran down both their arms, poorly made and clearly self inflicted but still an identifier, they were CG runts.
“We good?” Lang raised his brows in warning and challenge all at once. “You getting real loud and saying a whole lot of nothing so I wanted to just clarify right here and now that you’re not a bunch of fuckers I gotta straighten out so, once again, we good here?”
They turn to each other considerably, and nod, more to themselves but also vaguely to him. Thinking that that would be the best he would get, Lang turned back to selecting his blooms when—
“See, he's doing it for his gay little boyfriend, look at the sight of that—” The louder one said again, jeering and narrowing his eyes at Yuno who was fixing up some broken pots.
“What a fucking fa—” He didn’t even get to finish their sentence before a fist made contact with his face and did not stop till emergency services were called.
Lang cradles his jaw triumphantly as the EMS load the two men into the back of the ambulance, screaming as they hold their bloody noses and swollen eyes, tears mixing with blood.
“He’s a psycho!” They wail, unknowingly painting an even bigger target on his back as Lang and the EMS exchange meaningful looks. “Can’t you hear me!? He’s a psycho bastard—”
“Should I start counting this as everyday behaviour for you?” Yuno says with a casual softness it makes Lang’s heart fizzle out for a beat. “I won’t lie, this will be affecting your employee performance review.”
“Don’t I know it, same thing tomorrow?” He looks meaningfully at the other man, daring him to say no.
Yuno gets quiet, contemplative, in a way Lang hadn’t seen him look before. Yuno watches the two crooks wail and yell before turning to him. “What is your life like, I wonder, if spending your days working in a stuffy flower store is preferable?”
“You make it hard not to be.” He says simply, his lips curl into a half smile. “I’m expecting a bonus for bodyguarding by the way. I’ll invoice a bill.”
“You’re incredible.” Yuno shakes his head, hiding his own smile but stops him as he attempts to hobble away, always determined to have the last word.
Lang looks confused before the florist leans in close, they weren’t close enough to have it be considered strange but he could see the red flush of his skin and just how damn green his eyes are that made him feel like it was a touch too close. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting having him move so close but the flowers suddenly pushed into his chest was definitely not it.
“The bonus.” Yuno says brightly, tucking one of the dollar bunch flowers into his top pocket. “I hope this will be a one off, as you already said it’s already a gamble having dollar flowers as it is but all these bonuses beating up my customers, well, that’ll be an even worse business move!”
Lang’s laughter echoed down the street and as he drove home, ready to face what will be a whirlpool of chaos and accusation, he can’t help but think about how close they had stood when those flowers were tucked into his pocket, how nice he smelt—mint almost but something richer, warmer, autumn maybe, tin— and how if he leaned in just a little closer he could’ve kissed him right there in the front of the store.
Childish thoughts—hormonal and so damn green it made him feel like a teenager but he couldn’t help the rush of warmth that filled his chest when he left, replaying the day in his head like a good movie.
▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
It feels like he’s lying, this little routine.
“Do you have a favourite flower or is it all the same to you?” Lang said, as he cut cubes of meat for the more ravenous plants at their disposal. “Is it like having a favourite kid?”
“What?” Yuno laughed, taken back. “Do you have a favourite kid?”
The older man scoffed. “Sure, what parent doesn’t?”
Cheating in a game the other man doesn’t even know exists. Worming through his defences and talking to him like he were just some silly florist who knows just a little too much about patching wounds. It’s terrifying if Yuno was honest with himself.
The possibility he’ll be found out is suffocating and so, so possible because he knows this man now, knows how paranoid he can be and how if he knew just what Yuno did as a side job all this laughter and happiness would disappear in a blink of an eye.
“My—roommates, you know they’re a total mess.” Lang said as he swept, his injuries healing at a remarkable rate and giving him more energy to stand up and move again. “Absolutely helpless without me, I’m like the beating heart that is the tiger lion of our entire operation.”
“I imagine.” Yuno had nodded, absently, subtly watching him.
“Hard not to, I gotta keep a tight ship all the time or my men they’ll go overboard and drown in the turbulent seas of their bad decisions.”
“I can get that.” He doesn’t but he’ll give him this atleast. “I like to think the things I do are important to my roommates too but they ah—sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.”
“If they thank you for doing your job you’ve got another problem on your hands, I’m not one to be all precious to my–my roommates. We got jobs to do and we do it, easy as that.”
There were gaps in his story, of course, gaps in his routine that most people wouldn’t notice in passing but with the frequency of Lang’s visits—every morning without fail— he was bound to find the flaws in the schedule. There were times that were completely blacked out, where Yuno had long stretches of unaccounted for down time. This was for going back to the base, checking the computers and their uses, maybe a bank if they felt the need for it, business meetings, etc. All things he’s had to cancel this week because of how suspicious those disappearances would look to his paranoid shadow.
“My roommate,” Yuno brought up as he picked flowers to press, a new venture he’s planning on exploring, possibly advertising them as bookmarks or writing pads. “One of them I think—really dislikes me.”
“What did you do?” Lang was on the pressing portion, setting the machine out and the flowers carefully underneath it.
“Nothing I know of.”
“You sure? Sometimes it’s little things, I know Tony, he's got this real irritating way of eating toast that makes it sound like a balloon trapped in a dishwasher.”
“Huh,” Yuno furrowed his brows in thought. “Should I avoid toast?”
Lang nodded, sagely. “Better safe than sorry.”
As time went on their frigid almost constantly tension filled and polite pleasantries had thawed with every new conversation. They talked to each other, really talked to each other about their thoughts of the day and their problems. It eased the tension in his heart, the camaraderie and ease in which they talked, felt a bit like having a friend who really knew what it was like to have ‘roommates’ and being allowed to talk through some of his more conflicting feelings did wonders for his mood.
“I don’t think that’s controlling,” Yuno tried to defend, throwing his hat in a race he had no stakes in. “I think it’s about caring, maybe. They care about your safety and don’t want to lose you again. That’s pretty understandable don’t you think?”
“I’m a grown ass man.” He had grumbled back. “I could fire their ungrateful asses.”
Yuno made a noise of disagreement. “You won’t though, right? So you should probably sit down and talk it out, maybe.”
“Talking doesn’t solve problems!” Lang had shouted then, disturbing their older customers. “Action solves problems!”
“Talking is action,” Yuno pointed out with a smile. “It’ll be easy! Just get Gigi to facilitate most of it and you’ll be done in no time.”
He was already shaking his head. “You can’t account for—”
“Arush will get it, you’ve known each other for decades of course he’ll get it.”
It was clear that when Mr Lang said ‘Roommate’ he really meant ‘my subordinate, or ‘my team’. Every day was a new complaint about his health and hospital management and his crew that were ‘more unbearable then usual’ always trailing behind him keeping him away from stairs and sharp inclines.
Yuno found it fun, a little. The way they talked felt normal, like Ray really was his brother that he could say to someone ‘yeah my brother is dating a cop and none of our friends are talking to him about it anymore’ or when Lang said something along the lines of ‘new responsibilities’ that although a great honour, made him feel so tired . That his whole life was made to rise to the occasion and create an empire when he could barely care enough to get up from bed in the morning.
“You get up now, that's an improvement.” Yuno felt the need to say that day, because he had looked so sad and it wasn’t fair . “You get out of bed and you keep trying, no one can take that away from you.”
He didn’t react much to that one, the conversation trailing out a little after that, but he knew it reached him because before he left that day Mr Lang suddenly drew him into a bone–crushing embrace. Wide–eyed, Yuno barely had time to react before the older man had pushed off him and hobbled away.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your help around here, I gotta ask…” Yuno approached one day, because this was important for him to know and it was an appropriate amount of time later. “Why do you come back every day? I was only really half joking when I offered the position—truthfully I figured you’d show up for a couple hours and go do something crazy and I wouldn’t see you again. What keeps you coming back?”
It took almost a week of their quiet, fantastic routine before Lang told him about the injuries he got and how he went about getting them. All things he knew, of course, but still quite fascinating to see it from the others eyes.
“I was stupid.” Lang admitted lowly, just as the last customer had left and they were tidying up. “I always think that I can—do things, take on things that are beyond me cause I’ve done it before but I’m not young anymore. I’m old and pissed at everything and tired .”
Yuno had taken his hand then, side by side on the steps of his shop.
“You know I don’t have…a normal life–you knew the day I met ya, I’m a dangerous man, Yuno. I run with dangerous people, people who have hurt other people and so it’s natural to assume that my enemies are equally as willing to hurt me right back. I got taken right outside my house and kept in a basement for who knows how long.” There was a look in his eyes, like he was reliving the stages leading up to it.
“I was down there for a while, too long really and I didn’t even get out with my own means I was pathetic just waiting to be rescued and it wasn’t even my—my roommates doing the rescuing.”
“What happened?” Yuno had muttered, unable to stop himself.
He smiled ruefully. “Every second I was in there I kept thinking about every wrong move I made, every misstep and mistake just kept rolling around my head day in and day out but the only real solid thing I could think about at night that could get me some sleep was this goddamn bizarre as all hell shop.”
“Wait, what?” Yuno could scarcely believe the words coming out of his mouth but there they were, unperturbed even with his interruption.
“I don’t know what it is about this place, I just—I thought about the flowers you got, about those weird plants in the corner that have mouths and need meat–”
“-Venus Flytraps.” Yuno answered automatically.
Lang laughed. “Yeah, those, and I wondered how the fuck you got clearance for some of these bastards and I wondered why you don’t have the customers you deserve and I just kept wondering and wondering and It got me through it.”
He squeezed Yuno’s hand that was already interlocked with his and looked up to him, earnestly. “You don’t think you do a lot here just– selling flowers and making coffees but you know, for me, I wouldn’t have ya any other way. You’re a good guy, Yuno, and it’s refreshing as hell to talk to you and maybe, I don’t know, maybe I think if I spend enough time around you some of that goodness might even run off onto me.”
“Are you…” Yuno shook himself out of whatever daze the other put him under, forcing the words to come out before he lost the nerve. “Saturday are you…doing anything? There’s this—thing happening I wanted to know if you wanted to…go with me?”
“Thing?” Lang raised a brow, mildly intrigued. “You wanna take me out, huh?”
“It’s a family barbecue.” He blurted out with very little grace. “I don’t usually go but my family aren’t…all that happy with me cause of—uh my injuries and well…leaving for a bit so it’s mandatory.”
“Ah, got it.” He nodded with understanding and something mischievous. “You need a partner in crime? Want me to be your little plus one?”
“I’d be really happy if you came with me but—no pressure.” He tacked that last bit on after perhaps realising how strong he was coming on. “It’s nothing serious it’s just some fun, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I can tell my parents to lay off—”
“Wow, hey I haven’t even gotten the invite and not two seconds you already wanna take it back. I see how it is.” Lang huffed good-naturedly. “I’ll be there, don’t have an aneurysm if I go around your family talking about how sexy you are it’s only right they know what they got.”
“Ah–sure whatever you say, Mr Lang.” Yuno accepted, more than a little scandalised but not willing to argue over it.
He left with a promise to return in the next two days. He had an actual hospital meeting that hopefully will get him out of doing physical therapy and get him back out there, but Yuno could only look at his hand that still burned with the touch that was left on it.
Yuno knew it in himself that he didn’t deserve this. Good fortune, it never lasted long with him. Whether he ruins it or the universe remembers he exists and ruins it for him, limited damage that but makes it hard to predict when it’ll happen.
This was a good thing so that just means it’ll be a matter of time before it dies like it always does and he’ll be left alone cradling what's left of the pieces. He was a curse and it’ll be a matter of time before Mr Lang sees that and deals with him accordingly.
The build up is the worst part, usually, but this time it felt…it felt like the only part. He was content with that.
On Mr Lang’s off day Yuno got many unusual visitors. People that came and went quickly and not quietly, they were sporadic and eccentric but well meaninged and approachable that if Yuno didn’t already have an extensive background check on who these particular individuals were he would have treated them as regular customers.
But, of course, he knew better.
Tony came in first, it was rather short lived.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Tony says gruffly, maybe to disguise his voice—a voice he’s heard before, in between the sounds of gunshots and screaming—or perhaps to seem more intimidating than he was. “I’m ah—I’m looking for…”
It was clear the man hadn’t done his research as well as he could have, looking between the small coffee stall and the exotic plants in complete bafflement.
“We’ve got some dollar flowers if you were looking for something cheap but effective!” He smiles brightly, finding his confusion amusing. “Or if you wanted a coffee—”
“What do you—do here? Exactly?” His accents already starting to slip, the italian twang fighting to break out and ruin his espionage. “Like, do you—make shit or—what is this? How do you know—why would…”
It was also abundantly clear he was trying to figure out what compelled his leader into coming into such an unassuming place to begin with. Yuno figured they would’ve had people watching over the shop or even just watching over Lang individually, that was just the kind of operation they ran. One that cared about each other.
“We sell plants!” He humours, knowing that what he’s trying to find will not be here. “Would you like to buy one? Or over there my twin sister–that's her there, Ray Mond, maybe you’ve heard of her? She sells coffee.”
“Right…” The accent has come in ten fold now, likely realising how unnecessary the cover was, looking disgruntled. “I think I’ll…think about it—gimme a second.”
And he was out the door before Yuno could even say ‘sounds good’.
The second to come in came a little after lunch and into the worst rush hour Yuno’s experienced yet. Orders were being bellowed from across the store, his own section suddenly flooded with plant enthusiasts that apparently had a convention happening a town over and had heard of his more exotic species, it was a mad dash for the entire time the second spy came to visit.
Only when the lines thinned out did Yuno bother sparing the newcomer a cursory onceover, which boy was that a mistake of the century.
He knew enough about the operations through his gang's informants and with Mr Lang’s many complaints that Gigi Gambino was trouble.
“Hi there.” He broaches the conversation only a little reluctantly, it wouldn’t help her to be suspicious of their first meeting.
“Howdy,” She replies smoothly, lining up like she were but another customer even though Yuno knows she is anything but. “Could I get a latte? Largest cup ya got, full cream, thanks.”
“Sure.” He wrote it down and that was that.
A touch anticlimactic to what he had built up in his head right up until he saw what she was doing in the corner with her drink.
She was watching.
People watching was a normal enough practice, Yuno would be lying if he said it wasn’t a pastime he frequented often himself— but there was a sharpness to her eyes that promised she was picking up every minute detail and expression tucking it away into her head to use later. No, Gigi wasn’t one to go on the offence and come out swinging like Mr Lang or Tony, the way she fought was subtle, behind the scenes. There was no doubt in his mind Gigi had figured him out the second she was in front of him taking her order.
Even now she observed him observing her, an amused glint in her eye giving away the game. She knew that he figured her out, Yuno’s sure she knows, but instead of any accusations as he had expected, instead of the interrogation he prepared himself for, she merely thanked him for the coffee and went on her way, seemingly content with whatever it is she found.
Tony came again, just after Gigi the timing lined up so well Yuno is pretty sure the other man waited for her to leave before making his way back to the counter for another shot, this time with a disguise.
“Ah, hello again!” Yuno greeted once more, amused by how frustrated he got from being caught despite the ‘disguise’ being all of a new suit and a moustache. Clearly, he wasn’t the espionage type. “Were you thinking of ordering something this time?”
“I don’t—” He coughed, sounding higher. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, this is—my first time here!”
“Well alright.” Yuno smiled, nonplussed.
“I was wondering…Lad—” His attempts at an Irish accent were appreciated in effort alone, even if the end result made several of his customers blanch in his direction. “If there were…a backroom around here…”
Yuno had to force himself not to react. “Backroom?”
The Italian looked vaguely annoyed. “Yes, yes—laddie, I’ve heard…you’ve got quite the…arsonal if you catch my drift.”
“Right.” Yuno tilted his head. “Where did you hear that?”
“Around.”
They stared at each other, the prolonged silence bordering awkward.
“No sorry, this is all the store.” Yuno pointed out to the clearly one room sized area, the only ‘backroom’ that would even constitute is the changing lockers and even that was just a side room that opened to the outside. “No backroom.”
“Huh.” The Italian accent slipped back on, like it was always there. “Well, shit.”
“Is there something you were hoping to purchase…” He trailed off, hoping to get at least a little leeway out of this. It would be nice to tell Mr Lang when he came back that he had a nice run in with his gang members.
“Frankie.” He said shortly, and then with a fumbled afterthought. “Corleone.”
By the look of his face it seems even he caught on with how bad of a cover that was. Yuno maintained his best smile and absolutely beamed back. “Well, it was lovely to meet you Mr Corleone, I’m not sure if the Comfy Corner would be able to accommodate whatever it is you are looking for but I’ll help as much as I can.”
“No, no,” Tony huffed, his moustache falling off before their eyes but still it didn't seem to faze the man. “I got the answer I wanted, I think.”
“Alright.” Yuno nodded and quickly took out a familiar bundle of dollar flowers, pressing them into Tony’s hands. “If you wouldn’t mind then, Mr Corleone, could you possibly give this to Mr Lang next time you see him? I know he likes them.”
Tony stared at him absolutely stunned before breaking out into loud, unfiltered laughter and Yuno allowed a victorious smile flash on his face.
“So, you knew me right out the bat, huh?” Tony shook his head, mirthfully.
Yuno spared a cursory glance around the room, making sure the rest of the room wasn’t listening in, before leaning in close. “He talks alot about his roommates a lot, I made an educated guess.”
“Hell of a guess,” Tony grumbled but took the loss for what it was. With another cheeky grin back the man walked right back out. “I’ll see you around kid, you’re driving our boss up the wall, if my livelihood didn’t depend on his geriatric ass I’d tell ya to keep at it!”
“You got it, Mr Corleone!” And the Italian laughed right down the street.
The next day had Lang coming in a new man. Now able to stand up straight and proud he towered over the tables in the cafe and frightened the plants who weren’t used to faces in their high perch. It occurs to Yuno it is one of the rare times he gets to see the man without the distraction of torture of bloodshed and he has to say, it is a nice look on him.
“How’d it go Mr Lang?” Yuno was half surprised to see him back now that he was back on his feet, his jobs were probably waiting for him back at his home, piled high if the state of things were anything like he told him they were like.
“Was there any doubt? Right as rain, baby.” Lang grinned, wolfishly, his eyes no longer brought down with shadows or showing visible exhaustion like they have been. It was good to see him in high spirits again. “I came here to grace you with my presence one last time before I gotta get back to business, you got any large pots you need moving? Any flowers holding you hostage?”
Yuno laughed and although the large pots that were brought in recently were perfectly fine where they were he got Lang to move them anyway, just to let the man show off.
“You know I’ve been working here long enough I wanted to ask ya, do you just avoid making coffees cause you’re shit at it or you don’t wanna show up your sister and take over her business?”
Yuno blinked, looking up from his work. “The coffee side is also my business. Ray’s just better at it, so she does it.”
“You don’t like making coffee?” Lang drags him over to the other side, pushing the small cactus away he drops Yuno in front of the coffee machine, a sight Yuno is familiar with working in theory but not in practice.
“Sure I do,” Yuno smiles as the machine makes a series of incorrect sounds before steaming spurts out and hits him in the face. “Ow–I’m just bad at making them.”
Lang makes an unsatisfied noise, shaking his head. “Make me something.”
“You got hearing problems today? I’m not good–”
“No, No I heard you. I frankly don’t give a fuck, I want coffee.”
“Why not make it yourself?” Yuno points out. “You could make plenty good coffee too, right? Didn’t you used to say you worked in a restaurant?”
Lang scoffed. “I don’t want my coffee, I’ve had my own coffee for decades. I want to see yours. Make me some, I’ll never bring it up again, I just wanna try it,”
Yuno sighs heavily but reluctantly gets back behind the machine and starts on his order. “If you say so.”
When Lang takes a sip, Yuno was already bracing himself for the instant sputtering that so many others have done before him. The awkward after where he has to pretend to believe that maybe the coffee was out of date or the machine was busted and he goes back home humiliated for thinking he could ever do anything other then what he’s good at.
Only, it doesn’t come. Lang continues to drink it.
“...You like it?”
Lang looks at him strangely. “Coffees, coffee man. If I didn’t like it you’d know about it.”
“Oh.” Yuno controls himself, playing his surprise off like it wasn’t the groundbreaking revelation it was. “Did that…satisfy your curiosity?”
The older man nodded slowly, taking another long sip—that was just, mystifying to the hacker, purely mystifying—and offering him a small quirk of his lip. “We gotta find something you’re not good at! I’m starting to think you’re some kinda genius at everything.”
No one had finished a cup of his coffee. Not even his family had made it a whole cup, usually it would be the first two cursory sips and Yuno would have to turn away as they dumped it down the drain. These actions often led to their drain getting clogged so their Mother had him promise not to attempt coffee on weekdays.
Despite the happiness he felt, it seemed that fate had caught up on him like he suspected it would as not even a minute to be able to bask in the moment, there was a ripple in the current and there it was, his happy little scene, started crumbling around him.
“Habibi, I am glad to see you are healing nicely! Who knew planting could be so deadly, huh?” Raymond Romanov was a frequent visitor to the store, when he had the time. While Lang was here, undercover, Yuno made sure that Ray and the rest of the guys wouldn’t have a single second to spare. Somehow, he must’ve missed today.
Yuno was hyper aware of everything happening around him. The way Ray took one look at the coffee in Mr Lang’s hand—thankfully, completely overlooking who owned the drink, never having met the man face to face like this—and brightens. “Oh! I do love your attempts, Yuno, give me a cup too while you’re at it! It has been some time since we have tried last and I have chosen to be optimistic!”
Ray was never the most socially aware guy around but Yuno found it absolutely fascinating how he didn’t catch the frigid coldness that Lang had aimed at him as soon as he stepped through the door.
He can see the gears turning in his head, the closeness they have with each other, the familiarity and pure fondness that oozes out of Ray everytime he talks to him, it wasn’t hard to miss. His expression shutters away and like a flash it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
“Baby, you don’t mind making me a cappuccino to go, do you? I just wanted to do a little check in and see my favourite person before I have to get back to work.” Ray asks chipperly, his usual exuberance and kisses him on the side of his head.
And this for whatever reason seems to infuriate Mr Lang as he stands, abruptly, making moves to leave. Yuno isn’t a hundred percent sure but he knows at least on some level Mr Lang has worked out him and Ray know each other far more than a florist knows a customer. He knew Ray, Lang had to have known who Ray was or why else would he react so strongly!?
His heart in his throat, terrified that Mr Lang had realised his plot and who he was after all these weeks attempting to hide and here is where it might all fall apart. It can’t end like this, not now, not like this.
“Mr Lang,” He forces his voice to be steady because it would help no one to be all over the place right now. “...Are you still…able to come Saturday?”
This tentative attempt seems to snap him out of whatever angry haze had gripped him as his expression softens minutely. “The barbecue, right?”
“Yep.” Yuno fiddles with the edges of his apron, a nasty habit he’s attempted to curve for years but still manifests in the oddest places. “It’s okay if you don’t—”
“I promised, didn’t I?” He says, looking annoyed. “Is…he going to be there?”
Ray blinked, pointing to himself. “Oh, no I am almost positive Fiona would murder me on the spot if I tried.”
“What a sight that would be,” Lang mutters, not loud enough for the silver haired man to hear. “Well, I’ve overstayed my welcome, I think I’ll go back to my roommates now, knowing them, they’re probably minutes away from burning the house down right now .”
“R–Right,” Yuno forces his heartbeat to slow, if Lang was still willing to joke around then perhaps not all was lost. “I’ll uh—see you Saturday!”
Lang suppresses another smile before stepping into Yuno’s personal space, something he’s made quite the habit of doing in their short acquaintance and carefully removing the bunch of dollar flowers from Yuno’s apron, the ones he had been working on for most of the day and that happen to be all brown and chestnut coloured wild flowers, and tucking them into his own pocket.
“My bonus,” Lang whispered into his ear, his brown eyes dark and strangely smug. “It’s been a pleasure, boss.”
Then with one last withering glare to the oblivious Russian, Lang stalks away barely giving a glance back to the twin stares following him.
“Well,” Ray settled down into his seat, still a little cold with the reception he was given. “You’ve got some odd friends, Habibi.”
Luciano and Arush visited the exact moment Ray sprinted away talking about needing to save Kit from something or another, all with earned casualness and calm. They walked in when the store was empty, the yellow of the setting sun illuminated them as they came forward flipping the open sign to close.
Yuno couldn’t see their face in the glare nor did he see the fist as it came, suddenly, hurtling towards him. He had to steal every instinct within himself not to move or dodge the attack, knowing that that sort of thing was exactly what they came to weed out.
This did little to lessen the impact though, Yuno cradles his jaw weakly as another arm pushes and pins him to the wall in front of them. He glances up to black sunglasses and a slack, emotionless face. Pain blooms where he was struck but determinedly he meets the gaze head on.
“You’re a hard guy to pin down, Yuno Sykk.” Arush is talking now, all the gang leader Yuno’s heard about finally on full display. “Try as we might, we just…can’t get a good read on you.”
“Is…that so?” Yuno speaks, breathing deeply even as the palm of the hand digs further into his chest. “Well…I…like flowers…that’s probably…the first thing.”
“Cute,” Luciano barks and is definitely trying to be intimidating, an effort that might have just worked if Mr Lang hadn’t spent the last couple days talking about how loudly he snored or that he loved pasta so much he once dressed up as a giant tomato to advertise for an italian business that lasted all of a month. “We think you’ve become a bit of a distraction, Mr Sykk and we were hoping you’d be able to…clear a few things up for us. Do you think you’d be able to do that?”
“Fire away.” Really he shouldn’t be so candid but the day had been absolutely ridiculous it was hard not to be.
Neither men liked his answer but still they soldiered on. “What does he do here?”
“You gotta…” He gestures to the weight bearing down on him, it eases. “Thanks. To answer the question, not much. Stuff I don’t wanna do, for starters, stuff I have to do and stuff I’m allowed to do and no one stops me.”
“That last one sounds mighty interesting.” And there was the pressure again. “Care to elaborate?”
“Do…we…have to have the…same…conversation?” Yuno takes a large gulp of air, and pointedly stares at the man holding him down before the older man reluctantly backs away.
“I run a flower shop, sirs.” Yuno gestures to prove the point. “There's not much else to do.”
Luciano was the more expressive of the two, perhaps down to his experience with the backwater gang types, Yuno could tell he knew how to hit like the best of them but his approach was all clean style, no hard edges. He was almost half tempted to blow his cover now and ask how he saw The Company who were all ragged sharp points and very little form. It was clear his answers didn’t line up with this image they made of him and this unpredictability made them antsy.
“There’s plenty to do, we just wanna know if Lang is shafting us and keeping you under his employ for some side gig he doesn’t want to tell us about.” The other one pipes up and it is here where Yuno realises this deep seeded paranoia wasn’t just a Mr Lang thing, his whole codependent gang had it too. Fascinating. “I’m not a bad guy, I don’t wanna go around threatening nice people like yourself, Mr Sykk, but with how Buddha is it’s hard to keep up with all the things he doesn’t want us to know, you know?”
“Of course.” He says because he does understand that to a degree. Hell, he would understand the best out of anyone with the recent betrayal with JP and The Company. Keeping your gang close wasn’t just for show, for camaraderie, no it was necessary if you didn’t want to wake up with a knife in your back or half your supplies stolen. They were undoubtedly worried for Mr Lang’s wellbeing, that was very apparent, but there was a slither of panic too, that Lang had another operation he wasn’t cutting them in for and it’ll be another Jean Paul all over again. He had to give them that. “Still just a flower shop though.”
There was half a beat where they wouldn’t believe him, half a second that they would push and push and he’d be just a blood splatter on the wall of his own shop. Become a cautionary tale for having your cake and eating it too, getting the guy and the criminal life.
Then, their radio goes off and without their eyes leaving his they answer.
“Yeah?” Luciano speaks lowly into the old radio, the crackle of the other sound loud and distinctly Lang sounding. “No yeah, whatever we’re there.”
Luciano gestures to Arush and then out to the car. “Didn’t you hear me motherfucker? I said we’re already there we had to pull over for gas, stop bitching at me!”
Arush sighed, holstering what Yuno now sees is a gun, tucking it into his back pocket. He walks over, sizing him up. The stories, truly, don’t hold a candle to the real deal. Oh he’s heard of Speedy, hard not to with a reputation like that, all stories shared with friends old and current only uttered under copious amounts of alcohol. It takes a lot to get Benji to talk about his old gang, his old life but when he starts there’s no stopping till he is black out or vomits and forgets his train of thought.
Yuno knew enough of the man that this little interaction was just a warning, little information gathering, but a warning all the same. He knows this because based on the stories he was told he wouldn’t have survived this encounter had they come to kill him.
“We’ll see you again, Mr Sykk.” Arush nodded, tightly, dragging behind him Luciano who was arguing with his radio. The door opens and shuts and the bells ring above it.
“There’s no doubt about that.” He utters to the empty room.