Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Okay—the actual ******** am I? ******** try here?” By now Waru had managed to have breakfast, grab a coffee, and been handed several flyers advertising to him about people who could fix his problems and fill his needs and dismantle his mental issues. All that good jazz! He didn’t know *how* Syrus of all people ended up going all of these places in (Like six or seven places in a two month span if one didn’t include the guy's route to his job)– like – a span of weeks?

He knew Aramis knew though, which was enough for him! That? And he knew for absolutely certain that one of these places had to be a place where ********’ Matthew (lastname redacted) and (address unknown) worked! Like, any of these buildings at all, though preferably one with plants in it? Cause he remembered that much!

Matthew did gardening things – farm s**t – was a plant guy to go with his water type prowess? Held dominion over sprinklers or hot tubs, orrr…..

Could he have asked someone? Someone higher up for information, or a dossier under the guise of ‘checking in’....And yeah, sure, he could’ve! But there wouldn’tve been anything sneaky or spy-like about that! It was easy to go to people higher up n him – and – like – ask them for common knowledge like he was the idiot who didn’t know any better! N’he wasn’t! He did know where his friends n subordinates and – former-bordinates? Forbordinates! Where all of them lived! He was the people guy, he did people, and if walking was part of the people-ing project Aramis had set him on? Then so be it!

It helped that he got watered, fed, walked on the way–

The closer he got to certain corners of the city the more tiny little bodegas n long-standing establishments stood out. The kind that looked locally loved; they had metal trash cans out front, and had runoff that was clean. People sometimes waved, or said ‘hi’ in a non-solicitous manner; like they weren’t trying to sharp white smile him out of his last red cent.

But no ******** it, maybe people in this place know farmers…” Waru sighed as he pitched the last of the few things he’d carried; a brown paper cup and leaf-litter business cards. Wiping his hands off on tattered jeans before entering the sweetest looking little mom-pop-flower-shoppe he could’ve ever imagined.

It had a little bell that chimed, it smelled earthy green. It was a known address on the little pathmap n ping-pinned thing Aramis had sent him from the – gods he didn’t get tech – phone share stuff? Syrus had been to this place specifically, like, three or four times already? So it was his next stop on the list!

His list made all according to the whims of his sleuthy third-party best-girl who swore to; ‘castrate his brain-stem in his sleep, because he clearly wasn’t using it anymore!’, ******** Aramis. Who was still seething worriedly a week after, in both his ears, about – ******** – responsibilities, friendship, and how something must’ve gone horribly wrong for Syrus! How she didn’t care if Syrus was ‘talking’ to them! Standing someone up because you didn’t like the place n standing someone up to miss your own birthday while clearly, blatantly, poorly lying about why you were missing your own birthday? Those were – apparently – two different enough things that it warranted a full assault grand heist of a snoop-fest!

He liked all of his pieces very attached and not at all castrated, whether he used them or not, n’so?

“Holy ********, this is a cute little place huh…” a bit awestruck as he stood there and wondered which clients Syrus’s boss had made him go buy flowers for this time? Why this place when it wasn’t – like - super close? Kinda on the way if you walked from Sy’s place n kept going out…so maybe…..

He flinched, respectfully, gaze zipping down to the – and okay there was a guy in there beyond all the plantlife. A young-ish storefront worker kind of—

Wait…..

“Ohmygod—” hissed like a misting system and he missed it all, every other word that came after hearing his own last name, and he squinted at the man before him like the guy was some ghost that’d just slithered out of a grate in a horror movie. It took him a moment, just t’be sure, maybe a few seconds of blinking longer than the average fly.

Like he was trying to capture the image of – Matt? Matthew!! And it was Matt, Matt at work and easy as you please here was the man he was looking for! The ghost in the machine who Aramis really wanted gently shaken down for context clues…

“Sorry–s’just—” and something in him short-circuited, very briefly, for the way ‘Mr. Ushindi’ made him think of grade school teachers and people who couldn’t handle languages of any kind with dignity. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone call me by my last name ******** correctly mind you…uhm….” He suddenly wondered if M’atthew knew his mother, if he should’ve aborted this whole mission with a smoke grenade and sent Aramis in instead! He could do it now that he had confirmed the location!

But that s**t was cowardly—-

“But, Hi! Yeah, wow – long time – um – y’could help meee —”

Now how do I get him to come outside and talk to me *without* looking like a crazy person?!

“With something I saaaww—on your storefront?” Slow as treading over the thinnest ice, he looked around the place, back to the door, back to Matt – to the door – drawled the last words out slow and careful like defusing a bomb in the shape of a person, trying his hardest not to wince once they were out and he heard exactly how lame it sounded.

Mayday, mayday, maday!!

And his mind screamed abort, told him in so many ways that Syrus n Aramis would’ve maybe wanted this to be something like a private conversation instead of something had in the middle of someone's work-day.

Like, not on the floor of their job-site…

But Matt looked at him like he was speaking another language entirely and he sighed for that, ran with the ‘lets do this here’ option instead.

“I—you sell flowers?” Nope, wrong, and he bit his tongue and looked very much like he wanted to teleport himself out of existence and try this whole thing over again. The way it felt like seeing Matt here was some kinda violation of a bro-code – or – ******** – the way it made him nervous that he hadn’t seen the man in long enough that he was forgetting basic things about him. If he’d ever learned those things in the first place?! “Which, duh, obviously—Idunno why I thought you were a farmer n’stuff…”

“I was so focused on the gardening–thought you did ‘food’ plants not, uhm, the prettier ones?” Rubbing a large hand over the back of his neck as he stared at the establishment for more than just its flooring. It really was nice, when he thought about it. Peaceful even. “Which these ones are, so pretty, seriously…do you…co-op? S’all your own work?”

It made a nice kind of sense to him all of a sudden; and the sight of two dots connecting over Waru’s face was genuine. Like a hundred bulbs clicking on in a singular ‘oh’ moment of understanding. That Matt’s job was flowers even if his passion was greenery—

Or at least he’d assumed that was what the man’s passion was? He didn’t know for sure, had only ever scraped the surface of the dour looking dark haired man.

“So it’s a whole family thing? Huh,” and he smiled blithely for it, looking at the place with a keener eye, and Matt standing in the middle of it. Seeming almost intrigued by the new found, to him, piece of information. “Why ‘Farah’s Garden’ then—sounds kind of like a green goddess? N’less…is Farah a family name? Uhm—“ and none of this was what he was here for, not originally, but now that his interest was piqued?

“I’m sorry I don’t actually know your last name — I should — m’sorry — m’surprised you know mine? Freaky—errr’ that you bothered to remember it? Or…I guess it’s sweet actually! Right? Here I was worried we weren’t friends…” he hedged uneasily even as the hope climbed through his voice like an outreaching vine. Steadily looking more at ease as he put the pieces together of why Syrus would’ve been coming to this shop….except for how even that fit wrong….but he shrugged off not having it all together yet the same way a duck did rain. Proud of himself for at least knowing one more thing!

That Matt – was a Florist. And this? Was a shop! Matt's shop? Matt's family’s shop that he shared with his father specifically.

“Your Moms..that's really cool, Matt. Sweet too! Is she – like – does she do the arranging while your dad manages the finances or something? All family business style, ” It was really sweet to learn, the entire shop carried Matt’s mothers name. It made him wonder if she worked there too? Arranging things in the back while Matt manned the front and his dad manned the – whatever his dad manned? He thought it was kind of lucky in a lot of ways, that the man got to have his whole family under the one roof.

He couldn’t imagine doing it himself – even the way he loved his family as much as he did – the idea of working with them when he didn’t even live with them anymore? Some kind of family business scenario…

He wanted to know more, to pry for bits n pieces – and then Matt dropped his voice a notch and it caught his attention like a barbed hook. The way Matt seemed so serious all of a sudden, out of the blue, even freakier than the whole using his last name when Waru had only ever called him by his first?

“Wha–They—wait, there's a dossier on me? Not just, like, the s**t they have in the database then, yeah? Are you telling me anyone can get into those….are you telling me you read it!?” He didn’t mean to sound like he was spiraling, but the hits kept on coming, the surprises kept rolling out! All the ways that Waru hadn’t realized Matt had been researching him prior to his – like – dragging the poor man into his black hole of a teamspace.

“Wow – okay that’s kinda impressive. But also kinda sad, I mean? Why would we read up on each other…One? I don’t do the reading thing. N’like I feel like we went over this, yeah? How I like t’actually meet people, n talk to them. C’mon Matt…we had a whole office picnic…” He supposed it explained everything though, didn’t it? Why should he have ever expected Matt to tell him anything, to spend time with him, to talk at all? When the man went about thinking he’d already read the paragraphs n knew every pertinent piece of info he needed to know. He winced as he trailed on, as Matt pressed his point more clearly, the way it set his teeth on edge and ruffled his hackles wrong-ways.

“I’m sorry—” whiplash quick and genuine, the words punched from him as he stared into Matt with a newfound sort of sobriety. He hadn’t known, and suddenly he wanted to swallow all his casual words from before. He wasn’t sure of the relationship, but if it’d been his mother?

The kind of loss one named a shop after—

He swallowed the next sentence, the next several, settled into standing and rubbing at his own arm with a newfound nervousness. Shifting where he stood and feeling his next few words out slowly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know, and that I didn’t do – whatever the expected assigned reading was? Jeezus…” and being called ‘Sir’ grated as harshly as being called by his last name only, tripping one more nerve that had him sighing out a rush of half-sorrowful frustration.

None of this was supposed to go this way, how the ******** come it always went this way with him!?

“And– no – I mean, yes? Listen – I didn’t plan on, like, running into you like this? Or talking about this here. But Aramis has been on me about your fiance’ missing his own birthday, and – like – thats not like Syrus at ******** all…” Waru sucked his teeth, finally finding the will to stare into Matt more firmly, with serious concern. “And I didn’t know how else t’get a hold of you? In person – as a person – and not…yanno?”

He wondered if he should launch into an explanation of the rest, if he should detail it all out, if he should’ve pre-written a letter? The way that this little findit mission had spiraled from minute one. The way he didn’t expect Matt to look so….

To sound ******** misery and stilted expressions and stiff forms…

He nodded for a moment, pacified, quiet long enough to hear Matt out. Taking it all in even as the look on his face slowly twisted with a soft sort of confusion; a crease of lines, a pout.

“And now I know for sure you want me dead…haah…” he tried to make light of it as he shook his head for the offered answer. To play with the words as if Matt’d offered up a joke. “M’kidding, but seriously? Even I know the last thing to tell someone, especially someone like Aramis, is t’calm herself– Like she’s exaggerating s**t when she’s worrying? N’the way it’d be worse t’tell her I think she’s worrying over nothing….”

He wondered how many fights Matt’d had with someone close to him? Little spouse-ish arguments, disagreements between lovers. Waru didn’t consider himself a savant in any way, shape, or formality, but even he knew better than to play that sort of game.

“Because to her it was a big deal, yanno? His little excuses can fly with me – I let ‘em. Cause I get it if he doesn’t want to see my face…if he’s angry…or busy…or….” He maybe had some lasting faith that he and Syrus would work things out, that the next impromptu meeting he had he wouldn’t be told to get the ******** out of his friends room, space, life. He had patience to wait out whatever storm had brewed up under the blond's skin and come back later.

”He’d already agreed t’come out before, t’this new club? We had a whole opening thing – couldn’t recommend going myself – but this wasn’t about that – they had birthday plans and for him to stand her up at the last minute like that n’leave her at the door…” he wanted to say he would’ve understood, that she would’ve been understanding, except when Aramis had talked to him? The way she panic hissed like she thought she’d been outright lied to. Enough that she’d checked where Sy’ was n found fault with it.

“I wasn’t there on the call. But something was wrong *enough* that she sent me on this little foot chase…” he huffed forlornly, and ever so slowly began walking his words out on a ledge to hang. “I was hoping you’d have a better excuse...that…maybe he’d been with you instead n’just? That you’d know something—”

Because he didn’t want to be that guy who barged back into Syrus’s life if he was truly happy and doing well, to kick down doors at every turn the second someone's senses started tingling. He wanted it to be easy, for once, for Matt to have a handle on this one thing. Because his best friend deserved to be happy, and if that happy looked like Matt? Like blowing them off from under his covers *with Matt*, preferably?

Then so be it.

“Right—“ and only now did his gaze narrow at Matthew with less than puppy-dogged curiosity, as the man explained with brief curtness the most obvious answer.

It made sense, it was easy to go on, and if Matt had only said that? The following line of back the ******** off though, the way it made him want to sniff around the questions for holes all the harder—

Because he cared— about Syrus, about Matt? Because some deep down messy part of his mind liked riling the brunette in front of him? He couldn’t have said with any sort of clarity.

“Careful—“ syrup slowness in his budding smile and far less tease than suspicion. “You go around saying that kinda stuff with that much passion? People might think you actually care about the guy you put a ring on...”

“M’kidding—“ he wasn’t this time “You’re right though. It’s none of my business — hell — I don’t get why Syrus didn’t just tell Aramis he’d made other plans with you, yanno? Like maybe he forgot…” a half shouldered shrug, a lazy motion. “Probably didn’t wanna hurt her feelings is all, cause it’s hard, right? When people start to outgrow each other, when they start to change?” And there was truth buried in his fishing, a level of honesty, always. The way he knew Aramis was still younger than them both, and how Syrus had always been the mature one.

The way he thought his fiend might have outgrown that type of scene while finding himself — while finding the kind of partner worth changing his entire world for.

“Man, I bet you guys had — what kind of cake? Or no….he used to like that French place in the Asian market….N’less you turned him onto something more your style?” Because Matt might have been working, but he had all day, all night, the rest of his life to keep talking?

He wondered if maybe he should buy something — just as a thank you for taking up the other man’s time…