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Kaiba steps out of the backseat of his limo, ordering the driver to stay put. Almost immediately, his nose is assaulted with a cacophony of floral scents, each one pungent in its own way. He wrinkles his nose, fighting the urge to sneeze. He wouldn’t even be here normally, but Isono was feeling sick and couldn’t pick up something for him.
The bell inside the shop tinkles merrily as he stomps through the door, and he scowls fiercely at the noise.
“Hello! I’ll be with you in a moment!” A voice calls out cheerfully from somewhere in the back. Kaiba’s gaze roams over the flower arrangements displayed on clear glass shelves and the white buckets on the floor stuffed with freshly cut stems. He can name roses and lilies, maybe. Usually, he leaves it up to Isono to make sure he gets something appropriate, and he lets an annoyed huff out at the inconvenience the old man caused him.
The employee steps out from the back, a pleasant smile on his face, and Kaiba scrambles to pick his jaw up off the floor because, holy fuck, he’s hot. The first thing he notices is his hair, a shock of spikey black strands dipped in red at the ends tied up in a ponytail, with bright blonde bangs escaping its hold. He’s clearly a punk, wearing all black with multiple chains and belts looped around his waist and a large collar around a delicate neck. Despite that, he doesn’t seem out of place in the colorful and vibrant surroundings, although the light pink apron definitely softens the look.
His eyes are warm, sparkling violet, emphasized by dark eyeliner, high cheekbones, and amethyst earrings. He steps closer to Kaiba, and it makes him notice just how short he is; his head would fit perfectly against Kaiba’s chest. Not that he’s thinking about him against his chest. Ok, maybe he is a little.
“Hi! How can I help you?”
“Do you even work here?”
Fuck. Why did that come out? That’s not what he meant to say, and now the hot flower man probably hates him. Internally, Kaiba smashes his head against a brick wall repeatedly.
A laugh like a bell pulls him out of his commiseration, and thank God because the employee doesn’t seem too put out by his bad manners.
“I know I don’t look it, but yes, I do.”
“And the owners don’t care that you, you know, look like that?” Kaiba cringes internally at himself again. None of this is coming out right.
“Seeing as how I’m the owner, nope, I’m just fine with it,” the employee leans a hip against the counter and cocks an eyebrow at Kaiba. “Are you fine with it?”
“No. I mean, yes! No, it’s not an issue. I think you look great.”
Another silky, amused chuckle comes out of his mouth, and Kaiba can’t decide if he wants to die or already has.
“Thank you. Did you come here for something in particular today?”
“Yeah, I need flowers.”
“I figured out that much.”
“For a grave.”
Fucking goddamnit, why is this so awkward. Fucking Isono, why did he have to get sick and abandon Kaiba to be an idiot on his own. Thankfully, the employee is an angel and ignores Kaiba’s obvious social blunders.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Do you have something in mind already?”
“I don’t know, it’s for my parents, they’ve been dead for a while. I mostly go for my brother Mokuba. He’s the one who cares.”
“I see. White chrysanthemums then. Maybe with some greenery and white daisies in between.”
“Sure, whatever. Sounds good.” Kaiba watches the man get to work, gathering the required plants from various pots before returning to the counter. His hands work efficiently, trimming the stems, and a flash of silver and black shows thick leather cuffs wrapped around delicate wrists.
“You. What’s your name?” Kaiba demands.
“Why? Are you going to report me to my manager?”
“What the fuck? Didn’t you just say you were the owner?”
“It was a joke. You know, meant to be funny?”
“Whatever,” Kaiba sneers, and fuck, this is not going well at all. They collapse back into a stony silence while Kaiba stews and berates Isono mentally some more. The bouquet is completed and passed over, and even Kaiba can admit it’s beautiful, though not as attractive as the one who made it.
“Thank you,” he manages, proud of himself for not experiencing his foot-in-mouth syndrome for the first time.
“You’re very welcome,” the cashier beams at him, and shit he’s gone blind. He manages to pay somehow and leave without saying any more stupid shit, settling into the limo's back seat, clutching the flowers tightly, as if letting them go will erase the punk from his memory.
↭↭↭
When Kaiba overhears his receptionist complaining about the florist canceling for her wedding, he jumps at the chance to be a good samaritan... or rather, at the chance to find out the name of the man who has been haunting his thoughts. One quick order to his driver, and he’s leaving Kaiba Corp in the middle of the day – unheard of – and ordering him to the flower shop.
It looks the same as last time, which makes sense, considering it’s only been a week, but he’s sure it smells different. Still floral, but somehow less offensive to his nose.
“Ah, Mokuba’s brother! You’re back,” that same satin voice as last time calls out, but his instinct to protect Mokkie overrides any enjoyment of it.
“How the fuck do you know my brother’s name?” Kaiba snarls out.
“You told it to me last time?”
Oh. Yeah. He did.
“Seto. My name is Seto,” usually, he’d give his last name, the only decent thing Gozaburo ever gave him, but he’d rather not. As soon as he reveals he’s Seto Kaiba of Kaiba Corp, people usually change their opinions or motivations for talking to him, and it’s not something he wants to go through with the cute florist.
“Seto,” the punk repeats it, rolling it around in his mouth like he’s tasting it. He must decide it tastes good or something because he sends another blinding smile at him. “I’m Yami. What brings you in today?”
“Can you do wedding flowers?”
Yami looks slightly disappointed, and Kaiba wonders if he also expected him to repeat his name first, but pleasantries aren’t his thing.
“We do, but it depends on what you need and when it is.”
“Great, my receptionist's wedding florist canceled, and I’m helping her out. She sent me a list of whatever she wanted. It's in April, so we have a few months.”
Yami brightens considerably and takes the offered list, peering over it and occasionally muttering about ikebana, and needing to order in bamboo. While he does that, Kaiba looks him over, seeing if the memory matches up to the man, and it sure does.
Today, instead of his ensemble with belts and chains, Yami is wearing white pants, somehow not smudged with dirt, and a black button-up cuffed up to the elbows, with just a single belt that seems to be more function than form. His hair is set in loose spikes today, and Kaiba marvels at the odd coloring of it again. It shouldn’t work, but it looks ridiculously good on him. He idly wonders why Yami is dressed up so nicely.
“Do you have a date or something?” Goddammit, that was supposed to stay an inside thought.
“Hmm?” Yami breaks his concentration from the page and looks up at Kaiba through thick, dark lashes. He hadn’t realized how close they were standing but he can make out flecks of pink and blue mixed in with the purple in his eyes, and Kaiba is positive he’s ascended.
“You’re uhh… dressed up normally today. Do you have a date or something?” Nice. Smooth. Just insult him again.
“I have an event later and won’t have much time to prepare. But no, it’s not a date. I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Oh. Okay.” Calm down, Kaiba; that doesn’t mean he even likes men.
“This list will be doable since it’s mostly ikebana style, we’ll use cherry blossoms, and the timing matches up. Tell your receptionist we will get it done. The short notice will cost extra.”
“I don’t care. Just put it on my card.”
“We only need a deposit for now; it will be half the cost.”
“Just put the whole thing on there, it will shut her up, and then I won’t have to find a stupid fucking wedding gift.”
“Alright, consider it done, Seto. Although, I would argue that a wedding gift would be cheaper than paying for all of the flowers.” Yami rings him up with a chuckle, passing back the black card with a flip of his fingers.
The bell above the door rings, drawing Yami’s attention away as he calls out a greeting to them. Kaiba nods stiffly and then leaves before collapsing into the back seat of the car. It didn’t go any better today than it did last time, but at least he has a name.
↭↭↭
Kaiba finds an excuse to visit again two weeks later. Mokuba has a date, and as much as Kaiba despises the idea that he’s old enough to go on those now, it gives him a reason to see Yami again. Maybe it’s a bit weird for him to get flowers for his little brother’s date, but at this point, he’s desperate.
He steps out of the car on the now familiar curb, ignoring his driver's curious glance. The outside of the shop smells nice today, but his eyes are assaulted by pink and red roses everywhere. Kaiba opens the door and immediately realizes his mistake. It’s nearly Valentine’s Day, and the tiny florist shop is packed. He can see Yami behind the counter, rapidly putting together bouquet after bouquet, while a loud blonde man at the front assists the customers, and a short brunette girl rings them out. Kaiba hadn’t even known that the shop had other employees.
The blonde bounds up to him, puppylike in his enthusiasm, stepping in far too close for Kaiba’s comfort.
“What can I get ya today?”
“Nothing. Get away from me,” he snaps, and instead of listening, the blonde’s eyes narrow in anger, stepping in even closer, hand coming up to fist Kaiba’s shirt.
“What da hell is your problem?”
“You.” Kaiba slaps the offending hand away, but the commotion has already drawn the attention of Yami and shitshitshit.
“Joey, leave him alone. I’ll help you in a second, Seto,” he calls out, and the mongrel looks stupefied but backs off.
“Seriously, Yami? That’s Seto?” Joey says as he swaps places with him, and Yami whispers something back furiously that Kaiba can’t make out. It doesn’t matter because Yami is approaching him again, wearing another pink apron decorated with hearts. He’s wearing his collar again, drawing Kaiba’s attention to a lean neck that looks perfectly biteable.
“You’re back! What can I help you with this time?” Yami, at least, looks somewhat pleased to see him.
“I need flowers for a date.” Or maybe he’s not pleased after all; his face seems to fall the second he gets close to him.
“Ah, I see. And what does the lucky lady like?”
“Fuck if I know.”
Yami chuckles at the response, and Kaiba wasn’t trying to be funny, but it’s better than what usually comes out, so he’ll take it.
“Usually, you should know at least a little about the woman you are going on a date with. Favorite flower, color, even her style will give me something to go off of.”
“I’m not. Going on a date with her. It’s for Mokuba’s date.”
Yami heaves a sigh of exasperation, most likely.
“We’ll go with roses then, a bit overdone, but they are the flower of love for a reason. You don’t need any flowers for yourself for Valentine’s?”
“No?” Kaiba replies, confused. “Do you?” he counters.
“Do I need flowers?” Yami asks with more than a trace of amusement on his face.
“Whatever. Just get me the damn bouquet.” Kaiba rubs his palm on his face, trying to hide the embarrassed flush he’s sure is building.
Yami builds the bouquet and then rings him up, the brunette girl stepping aside from the register for him to do so. They don’t get much of a chance to talk; the shop is still overwhelmingly busy for the holiday, and Kaiba leaves with a nod while Yami turns to help a shy high schooler choose a less nauseating arrangement than the one in his hand.
↭↭↭
When Kaiba’s secretary approaches him about a charity event that the investors of Kaiba Corp want him to hold, she’s clearly anticipating his usual tirade, her head bowed low and apologies already spilling from her lips.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll handle the floral arrangements and the funding; you handle everything else,” he interrupts.
“The flower arrangements, sir?”
“Yeah, don’t we usually put flowers or some shit on the tables?”
“Yes?”
“Yeah, I’ll handle that. Now get out of my office so I can get some shit done.”
She scurries away, and Kaiba realizes only belatedly that it was very out of character for him to offer to handle that. But it will be worth it. He has a perfect excuse to see Yami again. Who would have thought he would have so many occasions to get flowers within a few months? He silently thanks Isono for being sick until he thinks that maybe that’s a bit morbid.
Kaiba finishes up at the office, leaving earlier than normal, and ignoring his secretary’s bemused look. He orders his driver to the florist, answering the rest of his emails during the ride. It’s thankfully much less busy when he arrives, and when he steps into the now familiar shop, it’s only Yami, repotting a bonsai at the counter. His furrowed brows loosen when he looks up at Kaiba, and a flush settles across his cheeks. Kaiba makes sure to shut the door quickly, keeping the still-chilly February weather outside so he doesn’t freeze Yami any more than he already has.
“Seto! Welcome! Can you give me a moment so I can finish this?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
“Thank you!”
“I didn’t know regular florists had bonsais.”
Yami hums thoughtfully, his tongue sticking out from between pink lips as he concentrates. He carefully maneuvers the plant into a new container, packing soil onto the sides as he replies.
“Some do, we actually don’t. This one is a personal plant. My grandfather left it to me, and he had it for years before that.”
“Impressive.” Kaiba mentally fist pumps, the first compliment he’s managed to say that he didn’t butcher. He’s rewarded with Yami’s full attention, his mouth caught in a surprised and adorable O.
“T-thank you.”
Yami wipes his hands on his apron, a dark green one today, before pulling it off and stepping out from behind the counter. Today he’s wearing black ripped jeans with fucking fishnets showing underneath the holes, a plain black tank that clings to a very tight abdomen, and a red flannel decorated with multiple patches. Today, his earrings are silver and consist of several complicated hoops and chains before dangling down into gothic crosses.
“Thanks for waiting. Need more flowers for Mokuba’s date today?” Yami teases; he’s teasing, right?
“What? No. That was a one-time thing. I am not fucking doing that again. The little shit complained about it.”
“Oh? He didn’t like them?”
Kaiba rolls his eyes, “No, he said his girlfriend would expect them all the time now, and that’s ‘too much work.’”
Yami laughs, and it startles Kaiba. No one thinks he’s funny. Ever. He doesn’t even think he’s funny.
“So what is it today, then?”
“My company is hosting a charity event and we need centerpieces. It’s going to be a very drab and boring affair, so personally, I couldn’t give a shit if we just put rocks in the middle of the tables, but evidently that’s not good enough.”
“A charity event… delphiniums, then, and daffodils. All bright spring flowers and daffodils mean new beginnings, while delphiniums generally mean big-hearted. I think that will be a bit better than some rocks, although it’s up to you.”
“I’ll trust your judgment,” Kaiba grimaces, “I don’t really get all the flower meanings. I can barely tell them apart anyway.”
“Well, nobody expects straight men to anyway.”
“I’m not.” Kaiba freezes; he hasn’t come out to many people. Mokuba and Isono, certainly, but no one else.
“Not straight?”
Kaiba shakes his head, fearful of Yami’s reaction and unwilling to meet his eyes, shuffling nervously.
“Good for you,” Yami’s voice is warm and comforting, not an ounce of discrimination in it.
“You don’t hate gays?”
“Seto. I run a flower shop. I can’t hate myself.”
“Oh. Cool.” He’s so glad that Yami is at least accepting even if his crush will never be – wait, Yamisaidheisgayholyshit.
Kaiba’s left in a daze as he finishes ordering the arrangement and pays for it, the image of his black card flipping in Yami’s hand seared into his brain from how many times he’s seen it now.
He barely remembers to be polite as he leaves, his mind blank from the revelation.
↭↭↭
Kaiba paces the living room of the Kaiba mansion while Mokuba sits nearby, playing on the latest game console.
“Would you cut it out, big brother? Just go fucking ask him out! You’re driving me crazy.”
“Don’t fucking swear, Mokuba.”
“OK, OK. Whatever. But seriously, just go ask him out. You know he’s gay, so just go ask your weird crush out.”
“He’s not weird.”
“You said he wears a dog collar. That’s weird.”
“He’s punk. Or something. I don’t care.”
“Yeah, so, he’s weird. You’re weird too, so it’s perfect. Just goooooo. You’re distracting me.” Mokuba starts pressing buttons far too loudly and obnoxiously for it to be necessary; he has to be doing it to piss him off.
“Fuck you,” Kaiba hisses and Mokuba just waves him off. He’s not wrong, though. He should just ask him out. Fuck it.
Unwilling to wait for a driver and lose his burst of bravery, Kaiba takes one of his sports cars to the shop, impatiently tapping the steering wheel at every red light. Navigating to the parking lot is a new experience since he usually gets dropped off at the front. His strides shorten as he approaches the front, nerves taking over. Before he can change his mind, he barrels through the door, ready to pour his heart out, only to come face to face with an imposter.
“You’re not Yami,” he accuses the fake.
“No, I’m not. I’m his twin brother Yugi.”
“Where’s Yami? I need to speak with him,” Kaiba looks directly over the tiny twin, searching the back for any sign of Yami.
“He’s not here today. I’m watching the shop for him.” Kaiba visibly deflates; all his confidence punched out of him like a balloon.
“Oh.”
“How did you know I wasn’t Yami? Most people can’t tell us apart.”
“You don’t look anything like him. You’re too short and weird.”
Yugi laughs at that, which isn’t nearly as pleasant to his ears as Yami’s.
“Who might you be?”
“Seto,” it feels weird giving out his first name again, but if Yami has said anything about him, he won’t get recognized as Kaiba. He sees recognition spark in Yugi’s eyes at the name and desperately wants to know what Yami said about him.
“Ah, Yami’s favorite customer. And what did you need today?”
Shit. Kaiba desperately racks his brain for an excuse, any excuse. He can’t very well tell Yami’s twin that he wants to ask him on a date.
“Women’s Day. Uh, I need to get bouquets for the women at my office. As a.. Thank you.” Nice save; he mentally pats himself on the back for the excuse.
“Riiight,” Yugi draws out the word, clearly unconvinced. “Do you know what you want in those and how many?”
Kaiba mentally calculates the women in his office, and then rounds up for safety.
“Fifty. I don’t know what to make them out of. Isn’t that your job?”
“Actually, no. You’ve just been getting special treatment. Most people are supposed to know what they want to buy.”
Special treatment? What does that mean?
“Look. I don’t give a damn about flowers or know all the shit that they mean. Just pick out whatever sounds nice.”
“Sunflowers it is then. It won’t give any of your employees the wrong idea.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Kaiba drums his fingers on the counter as Yugi rings him up, still pondering the idea of special treatment. Maybe Yami likes him too? It’s so hard to tell. He goes to take the card from Yugi when he snatches it back, forcing Kaiba to scowl and pay attention to him.
“He’ll be in again on Friday and gets off at three.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“So you can ask him out to dinner. Why else?”
Kaiba groans into his hands, “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. But if you hurt my brother –”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me, I know,” Kaiba interrupts, “I have a little brother too.”
Yugi nods, seemingly appeased, and Kaiba leaves the store in a near-giddy mood, seldom felt by the CEO. Yugi wouldn’t have given his approval if the feeling wasn’t mutual, right?
↭↭↭
Waiting until Friday was agony. It left Kaiba with far too much time to think and begin to doubt himself. He’d already informed his assistant that he would be leaving the office early today, but he had barely accomplished a thing while he was working. His nonstop nervous pacing had him wearing a track in the floor. He’s grateful he had the foresight to bring a change of clothes to the office with all the disgusting sweating he’s been doing all day. Mokuba and Isono had helped him pick out the outfit that morning, far more patient than he deserved.
It’s hardly his first date, but it is the first since he came out of the closet. And, there’s a chance it won’t be a date at all, that Yami will turn him down. Yugi had seemed confident that Kaiba’s feelings were reciprocated, but what if he had it wrong?
Fuck.
He’s not going to give up before he even gets there. With a groan, Kaiba digs his phone out of his pocket to check the time for the hundredth time and deems it time to get ready. His office has living quarters for when he ends up working overnighters, something he’s grateful for now.
He showers quickly before grabbing the garment bag from the back of the door. Inside are gray slacks, a black turtleneck, and a long woolen coat that is a warm caramel color. He checks his phone again, out of habit, before starting on his hair. Several minutes of blow drying later, his soft brown locks are in place, his bangs resting mostly above his eyes except for one particularly unruly strand.
He can’t delay it any longer; his anxiety simply won’t let him, so he tugs on his oxfords, checks for his phone and wallet, before heading out, ignoring his secretary’s call of “good luck!” as he leaves.
The drive over is short, parking is even easier, and he’s standing in front of the familiar door. He hesitates only briefly because he’s Seto fucking Kaiba, and he doesn’t back down, not ever, and certainly not now. He barges in with all the grace of a bull, and his gaze immediately finds Yami, bent down to help a small child pick out some flowers, smiling softly. Their eyes meet, and Yami’s violet eyes brighten as he mouths for Kaiba to wait for him to finish.
Yami is able to wrap up the purchase for the small child and their father quickly, waving goodbye before turning to Kaiba.
“Seto! You’re here again?”
“Yeah. You’re good with kids?”
Yami shrugs, “I’d like to think so; I think kids are cute.”
“I see,” Kaiba personally disagrees with that statement, with the exception of Mokuba, and even then, he sometimes wants to strangle the little shit.
“What can I help you with today? Another event? Or something personal.”
“I need a bouquet to give to someone. Something that says please go out with me.”
“Oh.” Yami’s face fell slightly, and Kaiba started to panic internally. “Roses are always a good choice. It’s hard to mistake their meaning.”
“Let’s do that then.”
Yami wraps the roses in uncharacteristic silence. Despite that, the bouquet is still beautiful, with small white flowers dotted in between that bring out the vibrancy of the red roses.
Kaiba hands his card over, watching Yami’s brow pinch up as he rings him out. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Yami speaks up.
“Whatever man is getting these, he’s very lucky indeed.”
Kaiba accepts the bouquet and then stands there stupidly for way too long until Yami looks at him, confused. He’s even more bewildered when Kaiba holds the flowers out, passing them back.
“Then will you go out with me? This cute florist I know said you would be lucky to.”
Yami doesn’t respond for a minute, and Kaiba’s heart lurches because, goddammit, that is the stupidest thing he’s ever said. But then it breaks into a brilliant grin, and Kaiba feels like he can breathe for the first time this week.
“Right now? I get off in fifteen minutes.”
Kaiba nods, “I know. Your twin told me.”
“Yugi did?”
“When I came in a few days to ask you out, you weren’t in, but he was. He told me this would be the best time to ask,” Kaiba explains.
“That fucker, that’s why he made me dress nice today and wouldn’t let me re-pot anything,” Yami laughs, and it’s good, better than any music Kaiba’s heard all week.
“So, is that a yes?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Kaiba leans against the counters, waiting for Yami to finish getting off. The cheery brunette girl from before comes in to relieve him and gives him a thumbs up that Kaiba returns with an eye roll. Occasionally, Yami looks over and offers Kaiba a shy smile, and when they go to leave, it gives him the courage to grab his hand and hold it, heart soaring when Yami returns the fierce grip.