A/N: A modern-day florist/baker AU! Many, many thanks to my beta for all their help and suggestions. Since I'm sort of writing this as I go, updates might be a little on the slower side. But I've grown very fond of this AU, and I want to make it the best that I can.
It never failed to perk Flynn up the moment he walked into the florist shop in the morning, the air clean and filled with the crisp aroma of blooms. A fragrance that helped clear up any fatigue or frustrations and situate him in the right mindset for the day. With an apron tied around his back, Flynn stepped onto the sales floor to tackle the morning's tasks. A number of coworkers had come in as well, mostly elderly women, as well as his old friend Sodia. Both went about cleaning up flowers for the day, hauling the barrels back and forth as they provided fresh water for the flowers to drink.
It took at least an hour every day to prepare the store for customers, but with all the work, time flew in a flash. It seemed like only moments had passed when a jingling of bells indicated the first customer for the day.
Aside from the owner Flynn was the only other man in the shop, and though he may have seemed out of place among all the women, he couldn't feel more at home. He'd grown up among the flowers, memories of his mother gracing his mind at times—bittersweet memories, but ones he still felt fond of. With the last of his own morning work finished, Flynn stepped onto the floor to assist with walk-in orders.
With four years of college out of the way, Flynn had taken up work at Zaphias Blooms to help provide income until he could step out into the real world. It was the same shop his mother had worked at years ago, familiar faces glad to see him back. Flynn's position was assigned to more menial, day-to-day tasks: cleaning and rearranging flowers, helping customers as they came in. He already knew the basics of flower arrangement thanks to his mother, but it would take time for him to work his way up in the chain. Business flourished easily in the shop; he seemed to be a hit with the younger crowds, especially high school girls. But he saw his fair share of other clients as well, from businessmen dressed to the nines to old friends from school. It was a labor of love, and Flynn dedicated himself entirely to it. No matter how exhausting his days could be.
A soft chime of bells caught Flynn's attention. He gazed up from arranging a spray of snapdragons, catching sight of a young man with long, flowing hair. His dark clothing stuck out among the vibrant hues of the flowers. With hands shoved in his pockets, the man's gait seemed awfully familiar.
It couldn't be.
Flynn approached him, nerves pumping his heart, growing more certain by the second of the man's identity.
"Hello," Flynn greeted. "Can I help you find something?"
The man turned his way, stormy grey eyes meeting his and widening in surprise. "Flynn?" He spoke, his posture loosening by the moment.
"I thought I recognized you." He offered a smile. "It's been a while, Yuri."
"Only, what, four years?" They clasped hands in greeting, Yuri returning the grin.
"Time flies, huh."
The parting of their last time together rushed to the front of his mind—raised voices, slamming doors. Yuri's voice ringing in his ears as though he spoke to Flynn now. We're done.
Flynn blinked the memory away. The past was the past, and what mattered was Yuri standing before him now, a grown man despite the passage of only a few years. "So what are you here for today?" Flynn asked.
"Uh, well." Yuri rubbed the back of his head. "My friend's in the hospital. Thought I'd grab her a get-well bouquet."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Despite the misfortune, ideas for an arrangement already sprung to Flynn's mind. Gerberas, carnations, lilies. Pinks and whites with a flash of yellow. Something soft that still had enough pop to brighten a dreary hospital room.
"Thanks." Yuri spoke behind him as Flynn led the way. "She broke her leg, so she's been in there a while. But she'll be coming home soon."
Flynn pulled carnations from their barrel and headed for the other flowers. He wanted so desperately to sit down and catch up with Yuri, but obstacles would need to be surmounted first. Yuri didn't seem to be holding any grudges, but then again, he always knew how to pull a poker face.
With Yuri's approval, Flynn set the bouquet at the counter to begin wrapping it all together. He pulled out a pink ribbon to tie it all together, in more ways than one, at Yuri's suggestion that it be filled with pink hues. Flynn tried not to become too distracted by Yuri, at how much he'd grown, how his face had narrowed out into a young man's, how his dark hair fell over his shoulders softly like a curtain. How he wished he could reach out and part the sea of black, feel the strands once again run over his fingers.
Flynn shook the image from his mind and brought the bouquet to the counter. Those days had passed. He tried not to stare as Yuri pulled a card from his wallet, turning his focus instead to the flowers and admiring his work. Being a florist wasn't as simple as it seemed; you needed to think outside the box, like a designer, always coming up with different concepts and arrangements for customers. It required quite a bit of mental work, and while at times it exhausted him, Flynn couldn't see himself anywhere else.
As Flynn reached to hand over the flowers, Yuri held a hand out. "Wait. You got a scrap of paper or anything?"
"A scrap of... let me see." Flynn searched through the counter shelves for the pad of sticky notes he always kept around, just in case. He slid them across the table alongside a pen, and Yuri scribbled a series of numbers down before handing it all back.
"I, uh, busted my phone a little while back. And lost all my contacts."
"Oh." Flynn took the paper and tucked it into his pocket. "So that's why you never got a hold of me?"
"Yeah, sorry." Yuri took the bouquet in hand. "And sorry for what happened. I was an idiot back then. Okay," he laughed, "maybe I still am one. But that was still stupid of me to do."
Flynn shook his head. "Don't worry. It's not like I held it against you."
"Well, thanks for everything." Yuri nodded to the flowers. "I'm sure she'll like them. And lemme know if you ever want to hang out. I'm at a bakery downtown now, so I'll be around for a while."
A bakery. That sounded like him. Always making some treat or another, when he wasn't snacking on the things he'd already baked. With a word of farewell Yuri went his way, the bell tinkling at the door on his way out. Flynn let out a breath and looked over the number Yuri had handed over. An unfamiliar series of digits. If Yuri was willing to reconnect, then perhaps they could have a second chance at things—and if not, friendship still suited them fine. They'd both grown through the years. High school was a tough, changing time for anyone, and truth be told, perhaps they both had been too young and naive to be involved with each other.
As another customer made their way inside Flynn tucked the paper safely into his pocket. For now he pushed away all the anxieties and burning questions, focused instead on the work he'd grown to love so much, the fragrant blooms never failing to lift his mood.
For the third time that afternoon Flynn checked his phone. 11:06, and no new messages. He was just getting ahead of himself. Yuri never was good at arriving on time to things; he'd probably dawdled and left just minutes before their meeting time, speeding down the roads like he always did. Driving with Yuri was a rush, and not in a good way.
The door swung open and Yuri stepped inside, gazing around until he found Flynn already seated at a table. He greeted Yuri with a smile and received a small wave in turn. Flynn moved his lightweight jacket onto the table itself, finding Yuri had braved the still-cool temperatures with just a t-shirt and jeans. At the counter both placed their orders, Yuri's sweet tooth getting the better of him. Flynn had never gained an affinity for sweets—even when it came to coffee, he took it plain with only a bit of creamer to stave off the bitterness. With drinks and treats in hand they returned to the table, the cafe awful quiet for a Saturday.
"So," Yuri began, "what has the great Flynn Scifo been up to?"
"College, mostly." Flynn swirled his cup around, still too hot to drink. "As a business major."
Yuri chuckled before taking a bite of his treat. "Sounds about right. So are you gonna manage that flower shop someday?"
"I'd like to." Flynn smiled. "My mother used to work there, so I grew up with it. Maybe I won't be there my whole life—maybe I'll end up somewhere else—but for now, it's a plan. But what about you? You're at a bakery now?"
"Betcha didn't see that coming," Yuri teased. "It's great, and so is everyone I work with. You should come down sometime."
"Of course. Since you already dropped by my place."
The more they talked, the more anxiety drained from his body. It seemed safe to say that all of their baggage had been left in the past—at least for now. Undoubtedly the subject would come up sometime, but Flynn was ready to face it. Especially after four years of a changed perspective. Yuri mentioned sharing an apartment with a friend—Judith—although never referred to her as anything but that. Perhaps a second chance would be in the cards, after all. As much as he wanted to get it out and over with, it was more important to rekindle their friendship first.
And being in the same town once again, there would be plenty of time for it.
"How's your friend, by the way?" Flynn asked, sipping down more of his coffee. Already halfway done.
"Estelle? She's fine. It's healing pretty well. I guess her girlfriend is over a lot, so she doesn't get lonely or anything."
Something bloomed in Flynn's chest at his choice of words—something he couldn't quite put a finger on. A sense of sameness, perhaps. It had been difficult for Flynn to find other people who shared his sexuality, Yuri being one of the few. At least Yuri had found some other queer friends. "I'm glad to hear it. Maybe she can drop by when she's better."
Yuri laughed under his breath. "Oh, probably. She's always getting Rita gifts."
Their topic was inching closer to Flynn's own thoughts. Part of him felt he should risk it and finally put it out there, but the other reasoned that it was far too early. "By the way, do you think we might..." Flynn shook his head. Better not to jump the gun. It had been four years, after all; a lot had probably changed. "Sorry, never mind. You should tell me about the bakery."
"What is there to tell?" Yuri leaned back in his seat a little, the earlier tension drained from his face. "It smells amazing all the time. I make a lot of the bread and treats. Actually, I've learned a lot of recipes working there." Yuri paused, his eyes twinkling with an idea. "Tell you what. Why don't you come over sometime? I could cook dinner, and we could catch a movie, or whatever."
Flynn blinked. "Well, sure, if I'm not busy." He pulled out his phone to check his schedule for the upcoming days. "I usually work until five, but I'll be busy a few nights. How about Wednesday?"
Yuri took a moment to think, sliding his cup back and forth between his hands. "Should be fine."
With a nod Flynn added a note to his phone, glad to finally be reconnecting with an old friend. Truth be told, while he didn't mind living by himself, he hadn't been able to make many good friends in college—and those he had ended up moving hours away, rarely to be seen again. Connections on a personal level seemed to be more difficult for him to maintain, something he was determined to work more on.
Even if it wasn't much, it was a step forward. And, perhaps, even a step toward something more with Yuri.
Wedding orders were nothing out of the ordinary, but the amount of planning that went into them could be exhausting—to say nothing of what the clients had to go through. The flowers themselves wouldn't arrive until later in the week, but even so, plenty of tasks remained until then: organizing ribbons and paper, checking stock, ordering miscellaneous table pieces. The work was split among everyone, even part-time help. Flynn was tasked with tying ribbons to ceramic jars that would serve as table accents, and the flowers themselves would be placed inside once they arrived.
He and a coworker got to work right away Monday morning assembling the ribbons and jars. Already he could imagine the finished table pieces: a spread of tea roses, peonies, and white hyacinth, with accents of greenery. The light pink ribbons would match the bright hues of the flowers, creating a soft, harmonious display that would match the bride's own beauty.
By noon the jars sat ready for flowers to be put inside, and for now, were placed aside in boxes the workers would return to later on. Flynn massaged his hands sore from all his work as he retreated to the break room. Accents for the aisles were next on the list—a task that switched over to other coworkers as he retreated to the break room.
With phone and lunch in hand he took a seat, glad to be off his feet. He found two messages from Yuri, mostly trivial chats asking how things were going that week, and Flynn explained the wedding order that had come in. Though it took a bit longer than usual with his sore hands. Flynn had brought in a simple lunch of a sandwich and vegetables—he was by no means a royal chef, and never had taken an interest in cooking like Yuri did. Though perhaps now, reunited again, he could get some advice on how to cook more hearty, complex meals. Even if it wasn't much, his lunch proved to be tasty and restored the energy he would need to work through the rest of his day.
All too soon his break had passed, and he returned to work, shifted instead to the sales floor as the manager cycled other coworkers to the wedding arrangements. After such a rigorous task helping walk-in customers almost felt like child's play, a welcome reprieve from the work he had endured. By then his hands had time to recover and wrapped up bouquets and arrangements with relative ease.
He took note of the influx of orders for corsages and boutonnieres. High school prom would soon come to pass, and looked back in both fondness and hesitation at his own: the nerves that tingled as he pinned the white and violet boutonniere to Yuri's tux, a perfect match with his tie and dark hair; the anxiety of arriving at the high school with another boy, out of place among the swirling ballgowns. The glances as they walked inside together. But any animosity from others soon dissipated, too distracted by their own dates to care. Thinking back, it was almost a miracle they had gone through unscathed, aside from a couple of nasty remarks.
Aside from prom they had kept their relationship quiet at school, at Flynn's nervous insistence. Yuri didn't care in the slightest, but Flynn was too afraid of the potential backlash from others. But for the time they had spent together, it had proven to be one of the best in years.
Until the rift opened between them.
Flynn halted his train of thought. Whatever they had buried in the past was better kept there; and as this weekend had proven, things between them were well on the mend. Though they'd have to face that subject eventually, Flynn kept himself occupied with the positives—with the flower shop, the fresh spring weather, the smiling faces as clients were handed their bouquet of blooms.
His day drew to a finish, and as he talked with other coworkers, found they had all made good progress with the wedding arrangements. Things had to be finished within the next few days, and with the rate everything was going, everything would be on time. That was the one drawback to flowers; their short longevity meant things could only be prepared days in advance of events. Arrangements and planning could be made well ahead of time, at least, so they would know ahead of time when time crunches would occur.
Flynn found new messages awaiting him as he retrieved his phone and belongings from his locker. Evidently Estelle would be discharged from the hospital later that week, and could hardly wait to see the flower shop and meet Flynn. He found himself smiling, realizing that he had just potentially made a new network of friends. While he didn't mind keeping to himself, he found that at times all he wanted was to sit around with friends like he used to in college. Even if it was only for menial tasks.
With a reply that he was excited as well to meet up, Flynn slipped his phone into his pocket and gathered all his things, bidding everyone farewell as he stepped out into the spring evening air and returned home.
Apartment 2205. This was it. Flynn took a breath before rapping fingers against the door, a short series of barks sounding in reply. He smiled to himself at the thought that Yuri had taken in a dog—or perhaps it was Judith's? Soon the door swung open to Yuri's grinning face, and he gestured for Flynn to enter. As he stepped inside a husky approached and sat before him, ice-blue eyes gazing up to Flynn.
While Yuri closed the door behind them Flynn ran fingers across the husky's back. Despite the barks from earlier he was proving to be a docile, well-behaved dog, his tail swishing along the floor as Flynn pet him.
"Well, aren't you friendly today," Yuri laughed. "This is Repede."
"Rapide?" Flynn questioned. "Like the French word?"
"What? No, Repede." Yuri sounded out the name slowly. "That was his name at the shelter. I know it's kinda weird, but I didn't have the heart to change it."
"That sounds like you." Flynn glanced his way with a smile. "He's a very pretty dog."
"Thanks. He's really chill, too, so don't worry. He won't chew up your shoes or anything."
Flynn finished petting and stood back up, slipping off his shoes by the door before following Yuri to the living area. A mess of paper and magazines cluttered his coffee table, a gaming controller atop it all like a paperweight. Messy as ever.
"Uh, sorry about that." Yuri shuffled papers around and formed a stack hastily. "I've just been cooking since I got off work."
"It's all right." Flynn chuckled. "That's how you've always been."
"Shut it," Yuri teased, a smirk on his face as he stepped over to the kitchen. "Dinner's gonna be a few more minutes, so just make yourself at home."
Flynn took his offer and sat himself at the couch. Soon Repede had come to the living room as well and crossed over to where his dog bed rested, grabbing a toy bone and chewing at it. As much as Flynn wanted to pet him again, he knew not to test limits when it came to animals, especially such a large one.
From his spot at the couch Flynn had a line of sight to the kitchen, and found himself unable to resist glancing Yuri's way. He moved about at the oven, shifting between pots and pans, something sizzling as he added in ingredients. The scent of chicken and pasta soon drifted his way and stirred his appetite. He'd come a long way since high school, since his days of cookies and muffins. Yuri could probably cook up a full course meal now. Flynn wondered why he had stuck with baking, and not branched out to other culinary areas; clearly he knew what he was doing. Perhaps his affinity for sweets had won him over.
Yuri paused to pull his hair up into a ponytail, Flynn just noticing that he'd kept a hairband around his wrist. The dark strands swayed enchantingly back and forth, and for a moment, he was caught up in Yuri's beauty, in the ways he had grown since high school. His gaze broke away quickly as Yuri turned to toss something into the trash. Embarrassed, Flynn looked elsewhere in the room, rubbing the back of his neck. Was it too much to hope Yuri hadn't caught him staring?
If Yuri had, he kept quiet about it. Flynn spied a shelf of movies and stepped over to it. Anything to distract him. His eyes roved along titles both familiar and unknown, eventually pulling out a recent favorite of his. An action flick with superheroes that thankfully focused more on building plot than explosions. Although the explosions were nice.
As Flynn put the movie at the coffee table Yuri was moving more about the kitchen, carrying a steaming bowl to the table. Flynn approached the kitchen to find a mix of fettuccine, broccoli, and slices of chicken, along with other scents and spices he couldn't quite pin down. A fine meal if he ever saw one.
"It's still hot, but go ahead and help yourself," Yuri said. "I've also got some almond pound cake for later. So make sure to save some room."
He wasn't messing around. "This is... wow. Thank you."
"Oh, please. This is nothing." Yuri took a seat and served himself a large helping. "Least I could do after four years, right?"
Between bites of food, conversation passed easily between them, laughter cutting through clean as a bell, warmth fluttering in Flynn's chest at the grin on Yuri's face. He had thought about Yuri at times in their absence, but now, sitting here finally reunited, he couldn't be happier. He'd missed Yuri's sense of humor, even with how crude it could be, the way he threw his head back with laughter, the low timbre of his voice as it graced Flynn's ears. Yuri's attitude had gotten him in trouble plenty of times in high school, and it was a relief to see that he had gotten through college and on his own. He couldn't say for sure whether Yuri still misbehaved, but now, at least, Yuri was happy to be in his presence.
Once both had eaten their fill Yuri set aside leftovers for the next day. Before they retreated into the living room Yuri pulled out the pound cake, a full, sweet aroma filling the room as he cut slices for both of them. With plates in hand they made their way to the couch where Yuri espied the movie at the coffee table.
"Hey, nice," he commented, setting everything up to watch. "Guess your tastes aren't so shitty after all."
A mouthful of food prevented Flynn from commenting. He threw a glare Yuri's way only to be met with a snort. It would take a hell of a lot more to intimidate him. Once the movie had started up, Yuri slid into place beside him on the couch, resting legs on the table with his plate of food in hand. The dessert cake was still moist and packed full of flavor; sweet but not overpowering, a nice end to their meal. Probably baked by Yuri as well. He made a mental note to check out the bakery when he could—perhaps for lunch someday next week.
The dessert was finished in time for the movie to start. Flynn could feel the same thrill mounting as the first time he had watched it. Since he'd last seen it Flynn had forgotten some parts, and found himself anxious for the cast of characters, knowing at least some of the pain they would endure before all was said and done. At the very least he never jumped at the sudden explosions, saving himself some embarrassment.
The movie had been part of a planned series, and as such a cliffhanger presented itself at the end. Just less than a year remained until the follow-up, and Flynn was eager to see where they would go. As the credits rolled Yuri stretched out. He realized then his hair had remained in a ponytail, and finally pulled it free, Flynn watching in the corner of his eye as it tumbled out of place and cascaded to his shoulders. He glanced away and swallowed, wondering if he should bring up the topic of their relationship.
Was he a fool to think they could work things out now? To think that things were different since they'd grown?
Flynn remained silent as Yuri popped the movie out and returned it to its niche on the shelf. He settled back in place, a familiar warmth, thoughts still tugging at Flynn's mind.
"What's up?" Yuri asked, draping an arm over the top of the couch.
"Um," Flynn began. Smooth. "I'm just wondering... where we are. Are we just friends? Or..."
Yuri sighed. "I don't really know, either. I'd be lying if I said I didn't still think about you."
At that Flynn perked up and glanced his way.
It had been over something stupid. Probably Flynn's fault more than anything, for being too overbearing, trying too much to tell Yuri what to do. His words had come from concern, not a sense of dominance; Yuri was always too brash and getting into fights, and despite Flynn warning him that he should shape himself up, Yuri kept at it. A suspension from school was the first crack in the pavement. Words flew between them, pointed fingers, raised voices, until Yuri gave up and left, slamming the door in more ways than one.
Maybe they had just been too young.
Flynn reached out to push hair behind Yuri's ear. It had been so long. So long since Yuri's eyes fell softly closed, tilting the slightest bit into his hand as Flynn lingered at his jaw. Was this the right thing? Did they have a chance of mending their past? He trailed to Yuri's shoulder and edged closer, his vision giving way to darkness before lips finally met. Soft and warm and slick on his. A breath escaped into his mouth and sent goosebumps along his skin. Yuri pulled back with a look of concern, his brow knit together in thought.
"Sorry." He didn't meet Flynn's gaze. "I can't do this."
"No, I'm sorry." Flynn pulled his hand back, worry sending his heart racing. He should've stopped himself when he had the chance. "That... was stupid of me."
"I wouldn't say stupid." Yuri sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just complicated."
"How so?" Flynn asked.
"I don't know. I thought... back then, I thought we were done. I thought I had moved on. But when I saw you again, something in me reconsidered." His eyes roved around the room as he thought. "We were just kids back then. Maybe things could work out now."
"I understand. We don't have to figure this out right away."
Yuri laughed, finally meeting his eyes. "Man, this isn't like me at all. Getting all mushy like this."
Flynn chuckled as well, glad to see him back in better spirits. A glance at the clock then revealed it was nearing eleven—past his bedtime already. He was surprised he hadn't started to fall asleep, but then again, Yuri had a way of keeping his attention. Yuri masked a yawn behind his hand as he followed Flynn's gaze to the clock.
"Shit, I should let you get back," Yuri said. "Didn't mean to keep you this late."
"It's okay, I had fun. Thanks for everything."
They both moved off the couch and Flynn shuffled over to the front door. Repede joined as well, curious as to what was going on. With shoes on and a few awkward words of farewell, Flynn made his way into the hall, both waving goodbye for the evening. When the door closed behind him Flynn let out a quiet sigh, relaxing as the tension drained from his body.
For a moment, Flynn had worried that he'd sabotaged their friendship again just as it was on the mend. The kiss had probably been a bit much. He placed fingers to his lips as the faint memory replayed in his mind. He'd hooked up with a few men in college, but none of them had managed to hold his interest. A bit ironic that someone like Yuri—someone so brash and different from himself—could capture Flynn's heart like he did.
Discussions would come eventually, but for now, it was enough just being together again.