As much as he liked to believe he was, Kagamine Len was, in fact, not a man of his principles. While he never put off work and always brushed his teeth the way his dentist had shown him, one well-played pair of puppy eyes could, on a bad day, probably get him to sell his own mother.
"Could you please, please, please pick up a nice bouquet for me first thing in the morning?" Miku had asked him over dinner one night, her eyes big and round and definitely aiming for Len's every weakness. "I totally forgot that our anniversary is tomorrow, and now everything is closed and I gotta work an early shift but didn't get Luka anything. So pretty please?"
Len had, of course, agreed to get Miku flowers, if only because that's what good childhood friends who happened to be sort-of-friends with a florist do, and the elation on Miku's face was enough to drive home the point that Len had made the right decision.
Which was why, an hour before Piko usually opened the shop, Len stood in front of his counter, wringing his hands guiltily whilst wondering how to breach the subject. Before he came to a conclusion, however, Piko had already shoved a decorative basket filled with Christmas ornaments at him. "Stop wasting space and put that on the table next to the white poinsettias. And maybe put some of the ornaments wherever they'll look pretty," he ordered, finger extended and pointing, and, nodding dumbly, Len did as instructed.
Which, in hindsight, hadn't brought him any closer to fulfilling his duty; rather than that, it had given him more time for stalling. So, while hooking an ornament into some tinsel-laden atrocity, with his tone as casual and conversational as possible, Len asked, "Say, Piko, do you maybe have the time to whip up a bouquet for me?"
As soon as he'd said that, a (surprisingly heavy) chunk of crunched up carton was flung at his head. Piko first glared, then huffed. "Do you know how much work goes into tying a non-standard bouquet, you ass?" he growled, yet stopped whatever he'd been doing in order to march behind the counter.
Len, feeling bashful, could do little more than scratch the back of his rapidly reddening neck with an awkward chuckle. "Sorry, I know you have to set up everything for the day and all. I didn't expect you to be able to make me one, anyways, so-"
"Nu-uh, stop that," Piko interrupted while piling his work utensils on top of the counter. Surprised, Len allowed for his mouth to snap shut. Apparently satisfied with the reaction he'd elicited, the florist puffed out his chest and smirked. "I never said I wouldn't fix you one," he said. "What do you need it for?"