Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First, Larry threw up.

Actually a couple things happened before that, but they were lost in the fog of unconsciousness and a wicked hangover. He managed to register that his body was about to vomit, rolled out of bed without getting tangled in the sheets, ran through a door that led to a bathroom, and knelt in front of a toilet. That was all on either instinct or luck, because he didn’t really wake up until he was puking. It hurt, dammit, on top of being really gross and loud. But he’d made it to the toilet, and didn’t piss himself in the process, so all things considered this hangover was starting off pretty great.

He hunched over the bowl for a minute, catching his breath. This wasn’t his bathroom, which he wished was a less familiar feeling. Someone put their hand on his bare back (oh, he was naked, whoops) and tucked his limp bangs behind his ear. Larry was going to have to deal with the question of who in a few seconds, but before that he’d let himself think they were someone nice. They were nice, actually. They reached over him to flush the toilet for him and handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth. Larry didn’t look up yet, because he still felt like - yup, his stomach cramped and he threw up again. This time the nice person held his hair safely out of the way and rubbed his back soothingly, even whispered something in a deep gentle voice. It helped, and when Larry came back up for air he was pretty sure he wasn’t gonna blow again. He rinsed his mouth, spat into the bowl, and finally turned to see who was there with him.

Huh.

He’d just met Agent Lang the day before. There’d been all that ruckus at the embassy, a simple acting gig gone really, really bad, and Lang had spent a solid chunk of time accusing Larry of murder. Larry couldn’t figure out how that had led to him crouching naked on the tile next to Larry, brushing the hair off his sweaty forehead and looking at him with gentle eyes.

“Hey,” Larry croaked.

Lang smiled. “Good morning. Feeling better?”

“Y-yeah.” Larry sat back, weak all over, and watched Lang clean up after him, which was weird. Because, like… Agent Lang. The dude was basically a wolf, all fangs and fur, and it was beyond bizarre to see him quietly wipe a little splatter off the toilet seat and hand Larry a tissue to wipe his mouth.

“Do you think you’re going to throw up again?” Lang asked.

“N-nah, I’m - I’m probably good.” Larry hadn’t puked from drinking in years. He must have been really, really wasted last night.

Wasted enough to wind up naked in Agent Lang’s hotel room.

Lang hooked Larry’s arm over his shoulders and lifted him effortlessly. “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”

Larry couldn’t protest, partly because his mouth felt like sand would pour out if he opened it, and partly because he had no strength to resist. Lang half-dragged him out of the bathroom and deposited him back on the bed, pulling the rumpled bedclothes over him.

Larry blinked and looked around. Yes, this was definitely a hotel room. A nice one, too, not a motel or anywhere Larry ever wound up. There was a workspace with a desk, a little sitting area with a couch covered in clothes, several empty liquor bottles, and just the one bed. So… alright.

He’d fucked Lang.

Huh.

Lang sat on the bed next to him and handed him a fresh glass of water and a couple pills. “Aspirin,” he explained, although Larry would’ve taken them regardless. “You gotta hydrate, too.”

Larry swallowed the pills and gulped down the water, only stopping when Lang grabbed the glass from him. “Easy there,” he said, slowly tilting it away. “Small sips, yeah?”

Larry nodded, so Lang released the glass. He watched to make sure Larry was following instructions before standing and stretching.

“You want coffee?” he asked. “Or something to eat?”

“Uh.” Lang was naked, as Larry had previously noticed. He was observant like that. What he hadn’t noticed was what an amazing body Lang had. Seriously, Larry wasn’t even into guys, but it was hard to stop himself from staring as Lang stretched his arms up over his head, golden skin straining over taut muscles, his form highlighted by the faint light coming through the window. Wowee.

Lang relaxed and Larry looked away quickly. It was pretty stupid to be embarrassed about looking at someone he’d just slept with, but, well. The dude was gorgeous.

“Coffee would be good,” Larry muttered.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Lang smiled at him, a flash of white teeth, and crossed the room to where a coffee pot sat on a counter. He seemed to have no problem walking around nude in front of someone else - but then, would anyone, if they looked like that?

“Cream, sugar?” he called.

“Uh…” Gosh, there were a lot of questions for hungover Larry. “Yeah.”

He could’ve sworn Lang chuckled. A few minutes later he returned with two styrofoam cups, handed one to Larry, and held on to the other one as he climbed into the bed beside him.

Larry took a sip of the coffee, hot enough to help him focus, and stared down at it. He took a breath; better to get this out of the way fast. “So, I don’t remember what happened.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Lang answered smoothly, sipping his own drink. “You went pretty hard on the tequila.”

Larry winced. “Sorry about puking in your bathroom.”

“Hey, I was right there with you, shot for shot. Besides,” he added with a shrug and a charming smile, “it’s not really my bathroom.”

“We did shots?” Larry clung to his coffee like it could make the room stop spinning. “I’m not supposed to do shots anymore.”

“Sounds like a story.”

“Not an interesting one. A girl I really liked and a bar I’m not allowed in anymore.” Nick made fun of him every time they went past O’Malley’s because his picture was still visible on the wall by the door, under the sign saying NO ENTRY.

Mentioning the girl reminded him of another pressing issue. He tapped a finger on the side of his mug. “Um. Listen, I - like I said I don’t really remember anything? But did we, uh. Y’know.”

“Yeah.” Lang raised an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Huh?” It took Larry a second to pick up on the implication. “Oh! Yeah! No, yeah, it’s fine. I just, uh, haven’t - haven’t been with a lot of guys, before.” By which he meant only twice, and one of those was a threesome with a girl so he still wasn’t sure if it counted. (The other was being on the receiving end of a tense and unsatisfactory blowjob at a party at Nick’s campus during college. It had been more for the other guy than for him. Helped him figure out some stuff about himself.)

“Alright.” Lang leaned back against the headboard, some tension leaving his shoulders. “Good.”

Alright. Good. He’d fucked Lang. Wondered who’d bottomed. Ah, who was he kidding, of course Lang would top. All that cool confidence and raw sexual energy, swaggering around in tight leather pants with his shirt open halfway down his chest -

Larry was starting to get a better idea of why he’d fucked Lang.

He looked around, but the room was bright and his head was still throbbing. “Do you know where my phone is?”

“Probably in your pants. Hang on.” Lang set his coffee down and lurched out of bed before Larry could say anything. He dug through the mess of clothing on and around the couch until he unearthed a familiar pair of pants and pulled Larry’s phone out of the pocket. “Need a charge?”

Larry clicked it on. 27%, 3 missed calls, and 43 messages. “No, it’s still good.” He was half expecting Lang to bring him his clothes and tell him to get out, but instead he climbed back into the bed and picked up his coffee again.

“Not even gonna bother with mine,” he said. “Can’t think of a single thing that can’t wait for another couple hours at least.”

It was a sentiment Larry agreed with, to be sure, but his curiosity was too strong. Plus he was really hoping there’d be some hints about what the hell happened.

One of the calls was from an ex, who he really desperately hoped there wasn’t an outgoing call to. The other two were from Edgey. The messages were from - jeez, a bunch of people. He’d gotten added to some big group chat and didn’t even know half these numbers. That one was Edgeworth, and that was Nick. Pretty sure that one was Edgeworth’s buddy. He could only guess based on the content, and a good deal of these messages were unreadable - so he wasn’t the only one feeling rotten this morning, at least.

He checked the call history - oh, god, he had called that ex, he needed to delete her voicemail without listening to it - and checked the voicemails Miles had left. The first asked where he was. The second was less considerate, as Miles could see he was having a perfectly nice time, based on the pictures, and could he please not send any more.

That was a clue. He flipped over to the photo roll and saw a whole slew of new pics dated the day before and some in the early hours. He started at the beginning and flipped through.

Right. Okay. These he remembered. He’d taken some photos while getting ready for the gig, and then some more during the whole investigation. Accused of murder, blah blah blah, then there was that whole big scene in the lobby and Lang got shot -

Dude!

Larry jumped and turned to look at Lang. “Dude, is your leg alright?”

Lang snorted. “Remembered that, huh?” He flipped the blanket aside to reveal a white bandage around his thigh. “Went straight through. I’ve had worse,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Sweet of you to worry, though.”

Larry sighed. “And you were up getting me coffee and stuff…”

“You looked like you’d fall over if you got up.” Lang grinned, and Larry pouted and returned his attention to the phone.

Alright. The lobby, Lang got shot, his secretary was a spy, couple old guys went to jail. He remembered that part. The next set of photos changed location, and he was pretty sure he remembered going to a bar. It hadn’t been his idea, but he’d been strongly in favor of it. It was already so late when the case had wrapped up that he remembered insisting they had to drink fast and hard, and it was really everybody else’s fault for listening to him.

A lot of the pics were very blurry. He could figure out people from color palettes, mostly - that pink thing was Miles, and the green one was the detective, and the other smaller pink thing was probably that girl he’d been with. Who really hadn’t looked old enough to drink, but hey, Larry wasn’t a cop. And the real cops had apparently been fine with it, so, whatever. He wasn’t about to deny a girl her party.

At some point he handed his phone off to someone else because the pictures started to include him. Mainly goofy poses next to his friends, with varying levels of delight or disapproval on their faces. And Lang showed up, with an arm around Larry’s shoulder, a bottle in his hand, and a huge laughing smile on his face.

Some more pics of the bar, a selfie with Edgeworth, another with Gumshoe, one next to Lang that was real blurry. Couple shots of nothing and then one of him in Lang’s lap taking a shot off his chest.

Woof.

Then there was a video. Larry glanced at Lang, who simply looked at him expectantly. Steeling himself, he hit play.

It was so loud it startled him into dropping his phone. He then had to frantically dig through the blankets for it and turn the volume down to a reasonable level before he could look at it again.

His own face filled the screen. “Alright, alright, okay. So this - this is Larry Butz, and you’re watching me and Agent Lang here, and - say hi, Lang!”

Lang’s face swung into frame with a whoop, then back out.

“So this is an official record,” Larry continued, “‘cause that’s what we need, like… yeah. Yeah! We got the - we got the wine - “ He held up a glass of white wine. “And we got the - the - like, rope, and we don’t have any lotuseseses but Kay did this - “ He presented a handful of origami flowers made from napkins. “Which means, like. That’s all of it. Right?”

“Yeah!” Lang yelled offscreen.

“Yeah! Hey everybody in this bar!” Larry wasn’t addressing the camera anymore, instead turning his attention to the crowd. “Who wants to see us get… married!!!”

The yells and screams were deafening even through the phone’s tiny speakers, and Larry gasped. “Dude, did I just say get married?”

Lang cleared his throat, and for the first time he looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. That’s what you said.”

Larry stared as his past self handed the phone off to someone, who focused it on him and Lang. He was giggling as Lang tied their hands together with a strip of fabric, saying something somberly but breaking into laughter. Larry presented him with the wine, and Lang took a sip and returned it, then Larry chugged the rest. Then a shower of paper flowers fluttered in from outside the frame. Lang very solemnly placed one into Larry’s hand, covered it with his own, and said something else.

Then Larry lunged at him, kissing him hard, and the video ended.

Larry blinked at the still frame of himself with his hands on Lang’s cheeks, pulling him in closer. This was way worse than O’Malley’s. Way worse.

“Dude.” He turned to look at Lang. “Like, were you going to tell me?”

Lang scratched the back of his head. “I figured it could wait until after breakfast.”

“Oh my god. Is this binding? Can we get an annulment or something? Like, I mean, we were both drunk, so it doesn’t count, right?”

Lang took a careful sip of his coffee. “It’s not legally binding,” he said.

Larry sighed in relief. “Jeez. I know I get up to some dumb stuff but this is the worst, by far. Whoo. I am not ready to get married. And to a guy! Ahaha.” He flipped through the rest of the pictures idly. They got saucier. “I guess that explains why you didn’t kick me out yet.”

“Of course not.”

Larry missed the frown on Lang’s face, distracted by the time. “Oh, dang, it’s way later than I thought. I should probably get going.”

“There’s no rush,” Lang said, even as Larry was crawling out of bed. “If you’re not feeling good. C’mon, you can at least let me buy breakfast for my husband.”

He was smiling as he said it, but Larry shook his head. “Haha, very funny. No, I’m just gonna - “ He was barely halfway into his pants and shirtless but he bundled up his clothes and lurched toward the door. “I’ll get out of your hair,” he said. “It’s been nice! I had fun! I think. Um. Okay, bye.”

He slammed the door shut behind him and paused in the thankfully empty hallway to catch his breath and get the rest of his clothes on. Man, he was getting too old to do shit like this. Agent Lang had been pretty gracious about it, at least. Nice guy. Good thing this hadn't become anything worse than a funny story.

Chapter Text

About a week after swearing he’d never drink again, Larry went out with Nick and Miles. Just a few beers, nothing crazy, just hanging out with his buddies!

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” Miles said when Larry joined them at the bar.

Larry immediately started pouting. “I can’t believe you’d just abandon me, Edgey!”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself perfectly fine.”

“After that thing at the embassy?” Phoenix asked, pushing a beer across the bar at Larry. “You were texting me. Woke me up.”

“Well, sorry for trying to have fun with my friends!” Larry took a swig of his beer. “You both need to let loose a little, you know?”

“Hey, I’m plenty loose,” Nick answered, tapping his bottle against Larry’s. “It’s Edgeworth who you have to get drunk to have any fun.”

“At least I was there,” Edgeworth said quietly, which made both Larry and Nick burst out laughing.

“When did you leave, anyway?” asked Larry. “Did you stay for the part where I got married?”

Edgeworth choked on his wine. “Where you - what?”

“Yeah. I got video of it and everything, man. I think Kay was there.”

Miles’s eyes grew sharp and narrow. “You got married to Kay?”

“Woah, no, man.” Larry raised his hands defensively. “It was Agent Lang.”

Miles paused and took a long drink before saying, “Agent Lang?”

“Hang on,” Nick interrupted, “the Interpol guy who acts like a wolf?”

“Yup, that’s the one.”

“How’d that happen?”

“I don’t really remember, dude. We did some weird little Zheng Fa thing.” He shook his head. “Like I’d get married to a dude! Can you imagine?”

Nick and Edgey shared a look.

“Larry - “

“Larry.” Edgeworth’s voice was sharp and cold enough to make both of them freeze. “You’re telling me you got married in the Zheng Fa tradition to Agent Lang?”

“It’s cool, man. It’s not, like, legally binding.”

Nick opened his mouth but Edgeworth raised a hand. “Larry, what do you know about Zheng Fa?”

“Huh? Uh. Not much, I guess.” He tilted his head, thinking. “Lots of mountains? Good food.”

Edgeworth sighed. “Traditions in Zheng Fa are taken very seriously. A marriage ceremony does not need any paperwork to be legal. There is no divorce except in extreme circumstances. Much more extreme than being drunk.”

“But…” Larry frowned. “Wait, hang on. What’re you saying? Why do you know so much about Zheng Fa?”

“I did some research.”

“Into their marriages?”

“It came up. They’re very traditional,” he insisted, “and Agent Lang takes his Zheng Fa heritage very seriously. You said you had a video?”

Larry pulled out his phone and cued it up. It was suddenly much less funny with Edgeworth bending over it, frowning intently, and Nick craning his neck to see.

As it came to an end, he sighed. “Oh, Larry.”

“What? What!?”

“Did you consummate the marriage?”

“Huh? W-what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Because if you did,” Edgeworth said, ignoring Nick’s snickering, “that is a complete wedding ceremony in the Zheng Fa tradition. You are now married to Agent Lang. And it cannot be annulled or terminated.”

“Holy shit,” Nick whispered, giggling.

“But - what? But he said - he said it wasn’t binding!”

“Legally, not in this country, but it would be in Zheng Fa. How did you react when you learned this had happened?”

“I…” Larry’s heart sank. “I asked if we could get an annulment or whatever. But he said it was fine!”

“Of course he did,” Nick cut in, still half-laughing. “What else is he gonna say? ‘No, you’re mine and I’m going to carry you off to my castle and have my way with you?’”

“This isn’t funny, Nick!” Larry shrieked.

“I agree.” Edgeworth shook his head. “I haven’t known Agent Lang for long but I can tell you that he’s a very loyal man, with strong principles. I can’t imagine he’d let this go easily.”

Larry felt like he was going to pass out. “But - but he’s a guy! I can’t marry a guy!”

“Zheng Fa tradition allows for same-sex unions, actually.”

“Also - “ Nick looked at Edgeworth, who nodded slightly. “Larry, we’ve been waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, but you’re bi.”

Larry shook his head, shocked out of his distress. “What! I’m straight! I like girls!”

“Mostly, sure. But remember 9th grade when you were mooning after that football player?”

“I - I wanted to be on the team.”

“And that poster you had in college of The Rock?”

“Hey man, The Rock is cool!”

“And how many times did you watch Aquaman?”

“It’s a good movie!”

“It’s a terrible movie,” Edgeworth said mildly, “but you had a crush on wet, shirtless Jason Momoa. What’s more, you’ve told me before that you wish you could date men.”

Larry squeezed his bottle. “Jeez, did you guys have a list ready?”

“Yes. Regardless, I think the most convincing evidence is here.” Edgeworth tapped on the phone. “That is, you having sexual relations with a man.”

“Oh my god. Okay, wait. Wait.” Larry took a long drink of his beer. “So I’m still married?”

“Yes.”

“And bi!” Nick helpfully supplied.

“Oh my god.” Larry slumped, his head in his hands. “I can’t believe it. I’m too young to be married!”

“You’re really not.”

Larry shot up. “Oh, shit. Edgey, do you know if Lang’s still in town?”

“Have you not even - “ Edgeworth cut himself off. “Not worth it,” he muttered. “I believe so. He was told not to fly until his leg healed.”

“I gotta go.” Larry practically fell off his stool as he scrambled to run out the door as fast as possible.

“He didn’t pay for his beer,” Phoenix remarked.

Edgeworth shrugged at the half-empty bottle. “I’ll consider it a wedding gift.”

Larry knocked rapid-fire on Lang’s hotel room door until it opened.

“Dude!” he said, sticking his foot forward so the door couldn’t close again. “What the hell?”

Lang didn’t look surprised to see him. He mostly looked tired. “Larry.”

“You lied to me, man! We’re still married!”

Lang sighed and stepped back, letting Larry into the room - an offer Larry immediately accepted, because the further from the door he was the harder it would be for Lang to physically remove him.

“You said it didn’t count!”

Lang shook his head. “Fine. Sure. Let’s do this now.” He sat heavily in the desk chair and waved Larry at the couch. “Sit.”

Larry did.

“It’s not legally binding,” Lang said. “Not in this country. If we were in Zheng Fa, that’d be a different matter. But we’re not, and you’re not from Zheng Fa and under no obligation to follow Zheng Fa traditions, so - “ He waved a hand vaguely. “You’re off the hook.”

“But what about you, dude? Like, that stuff’s important to you, isn’t it?”

“I made a decision,” Lang answered calmly. “I’ll live with it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m not going to force you to honor a commitment you made while blackout drunk just to get into my pants.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means - fuck.” Lang shook his head. “It means I was more sober than you, and understood what we were doing, so it should’ve been me that stopped it. And I didn’t, but you shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences.”

Larry scowled. “Hey man, it takes two people to get married, alright? I’m just as responsible as you. Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean I didn’t do it. I’m a man of my word! And if I made a commitment, I’m gonna honor it!”

“You weren’t committing,” Lang snarled, “you just wanted to fuck me!”

“You wouldn’t sleep with me unless I married you?”

“Yes!”

Larry paused, leaving Lang to fill in the rest. Lang pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were talking,” he said, “and I don’t know why it came up but you mentioned not having slept with many guys before, and I told you I hadn’t either - “

“Woah woah woah,” Larry interrupted. “Dude. Did - were you a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“Did I punch your v-card?” Larry gasped. “Were you saving yourself for marriage?”

“Not exactly,” Lang muttered, “but something along those lines.”

“Oh my god. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“Like I said,” Lang said through gritted teeth, “I’m not going to try and force you to actually follow through with it just because - “ He cut himself off. “It’s - whatever. It’s not your problem. You wanted an annulment, here you go. It’s annulled.”

Larry frowned. “Come on, man. You’re not even gonna give me a chance?”

“A chance for what?”

“To be a good husband!”

Lang laughed at that. “Seriously?”

“I know I didn’t make the best start of it but I’ll make it up to you!”

“Larry.” Lang leaned forward. “You’re not even gay.”

“Maybe I’m bi!” Larry balled up his fists, fighting the urge to cry. “I’m here, aren’t I? Doesn’t that mean anything? That I found out and came right here? I could’ve ignored it, I could’ve let you jet off and never brought it up again but - but here I am!” He spread his arms wide, offering himself.

Lang shook his head. “What’s my first name?”

Larry froze. “Huh?”

“Lang is my last name. What’s my first?”

“Uh. Um. Jason? Whatever, I bet you don’t know my last name!”

“You don’t even know my name, Larry Butz, also known as Laurice Deauxnim. There’s no relationship here, and no chance of one. Go home.”

Larry frowned. “Okay, I get it. I should’ve gotten your name. But I’m willing to learn! I can prove to you that I can be a good husband, if you just let me try. How long are you in town?”

Lang hesitated. “At least another week,” he answered at last. “There’s still some legal bullshit to sort out with whether Shih-na’s gonna be tried or extradited, and Franziska told me that if she heard I got on a plane before my leg was better she’d rip it off.”

Larry shuddered. “She probably meant it, too.” He brightened up. “But that means I’ve got another week! Come on, give me one week. I’ll be the best husband ever.”

Lang ran a hand across his hair and was silent for a long moment. “Fine,” he said. “Since you’re so insistent. One week.”

“Yes!” Larry jumped up from his seat. He felt giddy; he hadn’t even registered that he’d been nervous. “How about I start by taking you out to dinner? Or,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “since your leg probably still hurts, I bet you don’t want to go out if you don’t have to, so we can get takeout and stay in!”

“Yeah, alright.” Lang leaned back and propped his leg up on the coffee table. “But I’ve been living off takeout for a while here, so I hope you know someplace good. And no Zheng Fa food. Nobody in this country makes it right.”

“Got it.” Larry already had his phone out. “You like burgers?”

Lang raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Really, really good burgers. Like, the best. And they cook their fries in like duck fat or something, it’s incredible. C’mon, what do you like on a burger? Probably not too much stuff, right? You like the beef, and this place seasons their patties so good. So like, cheese, pickles?” He squinted at Lang. “And… mustard?”

Lang snorted. “Pushy, ain’t ya?”

“Ahehehe…” Larry grinned and waved a hand in front of him, lost in the sleeve of his jacket. “I got excited.”

“Heh. Well, you’re pretty damn good at guessing what I’d want on a burger. Add onions.”

“You got it!”

Dinner was nice. Lang seemed to appreciate the burger, and Larry talked a lot. Like, a lot. He tried not to, but it seemed like Lang wasn’t interested in answering questions so Larry filled the empty space with words. By the end of the night, he wasn’t sure he’d learned a single thing about Lang.

But Lang was smiling loosely by the time Larry glanced at his phone and realized it was nearly midnight. “Oh, jeez, you have to work tomorrow, don’t you? I should get going, I guess.”

“Yeah. Still got loads of administrative bullshit to wade through. It can’t all be glamour and action. But, uh, hey.” Lang smiled at him, toothy and bright. “Thanks for dinner. I had fun.”

“Ahaha, yeah, me too.” Larry had to try pretty hard to keep his voice level, because he was feeling all fluttery and squeaky like he’d been huffing helium. He’d felt this way before, was pretty sure he knew what it meant, and was positive he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that smile. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you again, right?”

“Sure, why not. Promise I won’t skip town without giving you a head’s up.”

Had that been a possibility? Larry gulped. He… really wasn’t sure what to do now. He kinda thought he maybe wanted to kiss him, a little? Or maybe a little more than that? But was that… appropriate? They were married, they’d already had sex, but a nice sober kiss seemed… big.

Larry scooped up his jacket and scuttled out nearly as quickly as he had that first time. “Okay, well. Bye!”

He walked home bouncing with every step.

Chapter Text

“Are roses too much?”

“Larry, seriously, I don’t - “

“I mean we’re married, it’s not like I’m not trying to be romantic, but I also don’t want to come on too strong? But I guess I already did that. Which is why I don’t want to do it again! Should I do carnations?”

“I don’t know anything about flowers.”

“Carnations! They’re the, the, the ruffly ones!” Larry waved his hand at a bouquet even though Phoenix was on the other end of a cell phone and couldn’t see. “They’re real bright and very dense, you know, but they don’t have - like, they’re not as full on romantic as roses, you know? Red carnations are nice. Or yellow. Should I get yellow? Is red too much? I wonder if they have daffodils.”

“Why daffodils?”

“I like daffodils.”

“I really don’t think he’s gonna care about the flowers.”

“Y-you don’t?”

“I mean I don’t think he’s going to care about what flowers they are. It’s the gesture that’s important.”

“Right. Right.” Larry peered at an arrangement. “But what if it’s the wrong gesture?”

“You’re stalling, Larry. Get the carnations. I gotta go.”

In the end, after another ten minutes or so deliberating, Larry went with an arrangement of white carnations, framing three red roses. It was definitely romantic. But it was pretty, too, and the white had made him think of Lang’s smile. He passed on the chocolates by the register, though.

According to Edgeworth, Lang had borrowed an office in the prosecutors’ building for the time being. All Larry had to do was ask for the office number and a few minutes later he was standing in front of an otherwise unremarkable door.

He knocked, and waited.

“C’mon in.”

Larry took a deep breath and pushed through the door, holding the flowers in front of him. “Surprise!”

Lang had his legs propped up on the desk and a file in his lap. He looked up and nearly dropped it. “Larry?”

“Hi! Surprise!”

“Yeah, I got that the first time. What’s this about?”

“Well…” Larry extended the bouquet. “I brought you flowers!”

Lang blinked. “You... brought me flowers?”

“Yup! Here you go!”

Lang accepted the offered bundle and looked into it. “Well damn,” he said at last. “Don’t think anybody’s ever brought me flowers before. Thanks. They’re nice.”

Larry grinned. “Oh, you know, it’s just a little thing,” he said, swaying slightly. It was hard for him to stay still when he was feeling this bubbly inside. “Hey, so, do you wanna get lunch?”

“Ah…” Lang grimaced at his paperwork. “No can do. Have to meet with some Allebahstian lawyer.” He growled. “If I’d gotten on a plane last week like I was supposed to I wouldn’t have to be dealing with all these goddamn lawyers.”

Larry swallowed down a jolt of panic. “Yeah, but then you wouldn’t get to hang out with me!” he chirped, and thankfully Lang smiled at that.

“You think that’s an upside?” he said, but there was a lightness to his tone and Larry giggled.

“Alright, how about dinner? When are you going to be done tonight?”

“Not sure. Depends.”

“Hmm.” Larry tapped his chin. “Well, what if you just call me when you’re done and I can meet you somewhere, or pick you up, or whatever!”

“You don’t have any other plans?”

“Nope! Schedule’s wide open.”

Lang raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a job?”

“Lots of them!” He grinned. “I had that acting gig, you know, and I pick up other things here and there. It’s just until I get my first picture book out, though.”

Lang sat up. “You’re writing a book?”

“Uh-huh! Well, no, I’m doing the illustrations, actually.” He tilted his head. “Elise was doing the words, but she got murdered, and I’m not sure if I can still use her script? But I had an idea for another one anyway.”

“Okay, okay.” Lang swung his legs down off the desk. “I really do have this meeting,” he said as he stood, “but I will definitely have dinner with you tonight, because I have got to hear this story.”

“Great! Anything you’re in the mood for?”

“Anything casual. You’re the local, pick a place.” He gathered some of the papers on his desk into a folder and crossed the room to Larry’s side. “I gotta get going. But, uh, thanks for the flowers.”

Larry let himself be ushered out of the office cheerfully, waving to Lang as he disappeared in the opposite direction. He stopped by Edgey’s office on the way out, but he didn’t seem to be in. Nick didn’t answer his call, either, so he sent him a string of excited messages as he headed home.

It took him an hour to pick the perfect restaurant, a little Italian place that made the best pizza he’d ever had. After that he had to pass the time somehow, so he cleaned his apartment, something he rarely did unless he was expecting a girl to come over. Not that he was expecting Lang to come home with him. Or had even thought about it, really. Nope. Besides, it was about time to change his sheets anyway.

It helped, in a way, that he didn’t remember their first night together. He wished he did - he really, really wished he did - but the fact that he didn’t took some of the pressure off his newfound bisexuality (that apparently Nick and Edgey had known about for years and just decided not to tell him?? Help a guy out!). It wasn’t like he could be thinking about how it had gone, or what it had felt like. All he had to go on was the sight of Lang’s beautiful naked body in the morning sunlight and what he’d picked up from porn. So, he wasn’t craving something he couldn’t have.

He really wished he remembered it.

He wondered if he’d been good.

When the apartment was presentable, Larry turned to his own appearance. He showered, shaved, picked out a nice outfit, did his hair, and shot himself finger guns in the mirror. Lookin’ good. He cleaned up pretty nice, had a cute face, nice hair, great smile. The ladies loved it.

Wait. Did... did guys love it too?

Larry frowned at himself. Should he be doing something different, if it was for a date with a guy? What did gay guys wear on dates? Edgey probably slept in a $3000 Italian suit, and Nick’s fashion sense was questionable at best. And Lang, Lang dressed like - like that. Sexy as hell, tight clothes on a tight body. Clothes like that would look ridiculous on Larry. He’d look ridiculous.

Larry shook his head and forced himself away from the mirror. He looked good and he knew it. All he would be doing was psyching himself out. Lang had liked him enough to sleep with him, so he was already doing something right, right? And - and so what if he was a guy! The flowers had still worked, right? Larry didn’t have to do anything different. He just had to be Larry, and it would work out.

He cleaned his kitchen again.

His apartment wasn’t that big so it wasn’t long before he ran out of things to clean. He kept his phone close at hand. Any minute now, Lang could call, and he didn’t want to miss it! He switched on the TV and waited.

And waited.

Past the end of a normal workday. Then past the end of Edgey’s workday. Past dinner time. Past a late dinner time.

When his phone rang he almost dropped it in his rush to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Lang’s voice was unmistakable, even over the phone. “I’m sorry. I got caught up, couldn’t even call until now.”

Larry tried not to sigh audibly in relief; he hadn’t been stood up. “Oh! That’s fine. I get it. Legal stuff’s the worst, right?”

“God, yeah. Your idiotic three-day system is supposed to get shit over and done with but when there’s four different countries fighting over the damn case - “ He cut himself off with a groan. “Anyway. I’m sorry about dinner.”

“It’s fine! Really. My two best friends are lawyers, man. I get it.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you eat something, at least?”

Lang chuckled. “What, are you worried?”

“No! Well, maybe a little. You’re still healing, you know? You gotta take care of yourself!”

“Sheesh. Seems like all you do is nag me.”

I am your husband, after all, Larry didn’t say.

“But point taken,” Lang continued. “I’ll try to eat something before I pass out.”

“You do sound pretty tired.”

“Do I? Damn. Must be really bad then.”

“Get some sleep.” Larry hesitated for just a second before saying, “Do you think you might have time to lunch tomorrow?”

“I’ll make time,” Lang answered. “You gotta tell me about that book nonsense.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then! Good night.”

“Night.”

The call ended, and Larry wondered if he should have said something more. Good night, honey? Sleep well? Dream a little dream of me? The dread that had built up as the time got later and later had dissipated, and he was left feeling light and giddy. Or maybe he was just lightheaded because he hadn’t eaten either. He’d been looking forward to that pizza. But on the bright side, he had some pizza bagels in the freezer! He nuked them for a couple minutes, settled back down on the couch, and didn’t think about how it wasn’t as good.

Chapter Text

Okay, so dinner hadn’t worked out. That’s fine! It wasn’t like Lang had wanted to skip out on him. Larry’d spent enough years having Nick and Edgey flake out on him that it didn’t even really bother him anymore. And they had a lunch date!

Heh. A date.

He couldn’t do flowers two days in a row, so this time he bought a box of chocolates, each individually wrapped in gold foil and arranged in a heart. He tied a large, gaudy ribbon around the box as decoration and brought it with him to Lang’s office.

Lang had his feet up on the desk again, but this time he sat up when Larry came in. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Larry grinned and presented the box. “I got you a present!” he sang.

Lang frowned at the box. “Chocolates.”

Hmm, not the reaction Larry was hoping for. “You don’t like chocolate?” he asked.

“Allergic, actually. But, hey,” he added when Larry’s face fell, “nice of you anyway. I appreciate the gesture.”

“I didn’t know...” Larry sighed, staring down at the box. Then, he took a deep breath and stood up straight. “But now I do! Learned something new about you!”

“Oh good, he’s an optimist.” Lang smiled as he said it, though. “I guess you’d have to be.”

“You can still have them,” Larry said, placing the box on the corner of Lang’s desk. “Give them to, like, your boss or someone.” He stepped back, standing tall. “That way, you’ll look thoughtful and generous! And that’s my real gift, making you look good.”

Lang snorted. “Thanks.” He stood up, stretching. “Ready for lunch?”

“You bet!”

Lunch was a two part process. First, they stopped in at a deli just down the street from the courthouse, the kind of place that was probably a front for something but had amazing sandwiches. Larry paid for Lang’s, of course, and not just because Lang was eyeing the cashier suspiciously. After that, they took their bags to a nearby park, where Larry had scouted a nice bench with a view of a duck pond that would be comfortable for Lang’s leg.

“So,” he said as they settled in, “what’s Zheng Fa like?”

Larry was determined to get Lang to talk about himself. It made sense for the guy to be a little guarded, considering his job, but come on, he had to open up sometime. Zheng Fa gave Lang something to talk about that was important to him without getting too personal. You could tell a lot about a person from the way they talked about their home.

Lang leaned back on the bench, his sandwich in his lap. “Depends where you are,” he said. “In the capitol everything’s all modernized and globalized so it’s really not that different from here. Get out into the country, though, and it’s a whole different story.”

“How so?”

“Hmm.” He took a second to think. “Less infrastructure. People like to be pretty self-sufficient. Real good chance that any given meal is made from ingredients grown within a couple miles.” He picked at his sandwich and flicked a bit of bread at the ducks. “Some say it’s underdeveloped and maybe it is, but it’s because we like it that way. Don’t need to spend all our time watching TV or on the Internet.”

Larry chewed his sandwich thoughtfully. “Like simpler times.”

Lang laughed. “Nothing simple about it,” he said. “People are still just as complicated as anywhere else. Being low-tech doesn’t make you better. Just different. Food’s way better, though,” he added, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Don’t you like the food here?”

Lang looked at him sideways. “Some of it ain’t bad.”

He looked like was going to say something else, but something electronic trilled and interrupted him. He pulled his phone from his pocket and put it to his ear.

“Agent Lang. ...what? No. Seriously? ...have you considered telling him I don’t work for him? Because I don’t. ...are you fu - okay, you know what, I’m busy so he can just wait and I’ll let him know when I’m available.” He scowled. “Tell him I’ve left the fucking country.” After another minute, he pinched his nose. “Right. Sure. Fu - fine. No, it’s not your fault, sorry. I know. Yeah. Yeah. Alright. I’m not far. Be there in a few minutes. Get him some coffee or something.” He lowered the phone and sighed.

Larry knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Gotta go?”

“Turns out the whole world revolves around one slimy lawyer. Who knew!” He looked like he was considering chucking his phone into the pond, but slipped it into his pocket instead. “I’m sorry,” he said, rewrapping his sandwich. “Again.”

“It’s fine,” Larry said, although it was a little less true than the night before. He’d gotten a little time with Lang, but for some reason that made it feel worse than when he hadn’t seen him at all. “Maybe we can meet up again tonight?”

“Ah, maybe.” Lang shook his head. “Can’t promise, though. Might be working just as late as yesterday.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Larry focused on his sandwich. “Maybe you can call if you get free.”

“Tell you what.” Lang pulled out his phone again and started tapping it. “I’m officially taking tomorrow afternoon off. That’s a whole half a day when I can promise we won’t get interrupted, and we can do something fun together. How’s that sound?”

Larry jerked his head up. “That’d be great! What do you wanna do?”

“No idea.”

“Ummm. I might have one...”

“Then pick me up tomorrow. Got it?”

“Got it!” Larry waved wildly as Lang bundled up his leftovers. “See you then!”

“Yeah.” There was a brief moment as if he’d started to say something else, before he added, “See you.”

Larry remained on that bench for a while after Lang left, finishing his own sandwich. Yeah. He knew exactly what they’d do tomorrow, and Lang would love it. He threw the scraps of his bread to the ducks and went home to plan.

Chapter Text

“Goooooood morning!”

“It’s after noon.”

“Good afternooon!” Larry wasn’t gonna let something like the time stop him! It was a beautiful day, Lang had no work responsibilities, and Larry had the perfect date planned. This was finally going to be the successful start to a long and happy relationship!

He was so excited he forgot to be embarrassed about his old car, but Lang didn’t comment. The only thing he said when he got into the passenger’s seat was, “Where are we headed?”

Larry stuck out his tongue and winked. “It’s a surprise!”

“What if I don’t like surprises?”

“Oh. Then I’ll tell you.” He looked sideways at Lang. “You don’t like surprises?”

Lang shrugged and sat back. “Maybe some surprises.”

“Hmm. I’m willing to take a chance to see if you like this one!”

Lang chuckled, which Larry took as a good sign. Off to a good start! He even quietly sang along to the radio as he drove.

Their destination was still in the city, so it didn’t take too long. Larry paid for parking, found a decent spot, and stepped out. Even though Lang had certainly seen the signs on the way in, Larry still stepped back and raised his arms in a flourish to present their destination.

“Welcome,” he announced, “to the zoo!”

Lang looked confused. “The zoo.”

“Yeah! I mean, I figured we could just walk around, see animals and stuff! I know it’s a little weird that it’s in the city but this is actually a pretty dang good zoo, honest. I bet we can see your favorite animal!”

Lang smirked, challenging. “Oh, so you know my favorite animal?”

“I have a pretty good guess.” Larry grinned. “C’mon!”

The weather was pleasant and sunny, but not too hot. On a day like this the place was full of families and tour groups in matching t-shirts. Once they got through the lines to get in, though, the crowds weren’t too bad, and there was plenty of space to walk. Plus, when it was mostly kids around, it was pretty easy to see over their heads.

Larry plucked a paper map from a stand and unfolded it. “So!” he said, offering it, “where should we start?”

Lang glanced briefly at the map, but made no move to take it. “You’ve already got the route planned out, don’t you.”

“I may have some ideas,” Larry said, grinning sheepishly. “But, you know, if you want to do something I’m certainly open to suggestions!”

Lang shook his head, smiling. “Nah. Screw it. I’m already this far in on Larry Butz’s Wild Ride, I might as well keep going. Lead the way.”

Larry tucked the map into his pocket and started walking. They’d go clockwise, starting with the Australian animals. That put the gorillas and elephants fairly early on in the trip - usually big attractions, but Larry had a feeling Lang wasn’t gonna be too impressed by those. But if they stuck to this path, the highlight of the trip would come about three-quarters of the way through. Perfect for a nice climactic finish without getting exhausted first.

Also, Larry loved kangaroos.

It was difficult to contain his excitement. It was his idea, sure, but he hadn’t been to the zoo since he was a little kid. He forced himself to walk alongside Lang, who had a slower pace. When they got to the first exhibits, though, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look!” he yelped. “Koalas!” He ran to the fence that separated visitors from the chain link enclosure. “Up there!” he shouted, pointing at a gray blob barely visible in a wooden box.

“I see it,” Lang replied as he slid up beside him.

“It’s so cute,” Larry crooned, leaning forward. “Look at its fur! It looks so soft. I bet it’s soft. Oh, I want to pet it!”

“Yeah, real cute. Some of the dumbest creatures on the planet, though.”

“Huh?”

“They only eat eucalyptus leaves, right?”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“Well, they’ll only eat them off the branch. If you show them a pile of leaves, they don’t know it’s food.” He smirked, eyes still on the koala. “The damn stupid things will starve to death.”

Larry’s eyes welled up with tears. “That’s so sad!”

“Oh, don’t worry about them too much. They’re one of those animals that survives even when common sense says they shouldn’t.” He looked at Larry, and Larry had the distinct impression that he was trying to make a point. “Cute, empty-headed survivors.”

“Huh.” Larry turned back to the exhibit. “They’re just too cute to let die!”

Lang laughed. Larry wasn’t sure why, but he grinned anyway.

After another couple minutes of staring at the visible quarter of a sleeping koala, Larry looked down at the next exhibit. “Ooh! Wombats!”

The wombats were more active, which meant they were awake.

“You’re not gonna tell me these are too dumb to live too, are you?” Larry asked as Lang walked up beside him.

“Nah. At least, as far as I know.” He leaned on the railing. “I can tell you they poop cubes, though.”

“They what?”

They fell into a pattern pretty quickly. Larry would run excitedly up to an exhibit, with Lang trailing coolly behind him. He didn’t have a fact about every animal, but he informed Larry that there’d been a war between the Australian army and an emu, and that echidnas laid eggs. He kept it up once they left the Australian section, too: the African Painted Dogs weren’t dogs or wolves, the Reeves’s Muntjac barked, the pudu was the world’s smallest deer.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Larry asked. Lang wasn’t just reading plaques and Larry hadn’t caught him using his phone.

“Can’t really say,” Lang replied with a shrug. “Just picked it all up. Travel a lot, get involved in a pretty wide variety of cases. Worked a couple animal trafficking cases.”

“Animal trafficking? Like... teaching them to drive?”

Lang snorted. “No, animal trafficking like buying and selling them illegally.”

“Oh! Were the animals okay?”

Lang looked at him again, a look Larry was getting used to getting after he asked a question, a frown and a lifted eyebrow. “Most of them.”

“Phew. It’s cool that you have a job that helps animals.”

“It can be.” He turned pretty sharply away, focusing really strongly on the bundle of angry feathers labeled as an African Pygmy Falcon. Larry got the hint.

He didn’t pick up on the other hint for a while yet, though. Lang was starting to take a little longer to catch up to him, lingering a little longer even at the boring exhibits.

“We can take a break if you need to,” Larry said when he finally noticed Lang slowing down.

“No, I’m fine.”

But Larry was aware now, so it was obvious how Lang had started to limp. He gasped when he realized. “Your leg!”

“It’s fine,” Lang started to insist, but Larry was already pushing him towards an open bench.

“You should have said something!” Larry said, making sure he was seated. “Do you need some water? Let me get you some water.”

“It’s fine,” Lang repeated. “It’s just a twinge. Haven’t walked on it this much.”

Larry’s heart sank. Of course. How could he have forgotten? “They’ve got little golf carts and stuff for emergencies,” he said, pulling out the map. “I’ll find someone and they can drive us back to the car.”

“I’m fine,” Lang snarled, snatching the map out of Larry’s hand. He instantly froze, his face dropping. “Sorry,” he added, offering the map back. “Alright, maybe I’m a little cranky. But I just gotta take a break, then I’ll be fine.”

Larry pursed his lips. “Okay,” he decided. “We’ll take a break. But if you’re not feeling better, we’ll leave. I’m not gonna make you walk around in pain all day!”

Lang glared at him, but didn’t protest. Neither did he refuse the overpriced water bottle Larry bought from a nearby concession stand. Larry sat next to him on the bench while he drank it. They didn’t talk much; Lang nursed the bottle and Larry fidgeted.

Finally, Lang finished his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “All better,” he declared, crumpling up the empty plastic.

Larry peered at him suspiciously. “Really?”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t.”

Lang sighed. “I’m fine. We can keep going.” He went to stand; his leg buckled under him and he fell back to the bench, cursing. Larry waved his arms around uselessly.

“I’ll get someone,” he said, standing quickly. “I’ll -“

“No!” Lang grabbed him by the wrist before he could run off. “I don’t need a fucking wheelchair!”

Larry couldn’t wrench his hand free from Lang’s strong grip. “You can’t walk! You’re hurt, and there’s no reason - “

“I - just - “ Lang huffed and let go of Larry’s arm. “Fine. Let’s just go. I can walk to the car.”

“I can get a - “

“I said I can walk.” Lang stood up, more successfully this time. He glared at Larry, who glared right back. Lang was intimidating, sure, but Larry was right, and that really boosted his confidence.

They abandoned the meandering circuit they’d been traveling, opting for a straighter shot back. It went a lot quicker, even with occasional stops for Lang to rest, every single one of which he insisted was unnecessary. Before long, though, they’d made it, and Lang was able to settle into Larry’s car.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Another date cut short, huh.”

“I-it doesn’t have to be!” Larry had his phone out, typing a frantic text. “We can go get dinner, or see a movie, or - or something.”

Larry: hep help guys help 😭😭 zoo date got cut short bcuz leg, r u around to hang out? get drinks? plz

Nick: lol you went to the zoo?

Larry: the zoo is great!!!

Larry: but his leg hurts 🥺

Larry: plz help

Nick: fine, fine, I can go.

Larry: edgeeeeeyyyyyy

Edgey: You want me to attend as well?

Larry: yes!!! plz!!!

Edgey: I have other plans for the evening.

Nick: like what, ironing your cravats? or are you pretending you have a social life? lol

Larry: nick stop!!! edgy plzzzz 🥺🥺🥺 u know him u gotta come with us

Edgey: I suppose I can reschedule, considering this is an emergency.

Nick: I promise not to notice your wrinkly cravat

Larry turned to Lang. “Or we could hang out with Nick and Edgey! How’s that sound?”

Lang looked confused for a second, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, right. Edgeworth’s your friend.”

“Best friend! Nick too. You haven’t met him, right? You’ll love him! It’ll be fun!”

Lang shrugged. “Sure, let’s do it.”

“Great!” Larry tapped a quick response to his group chat, naming a place. “This’ll be great,” he said, starting the car. “They’re great guys. I’m sure you’ll get along super well.”

Lang grunted in response as the car started to move.

Edgey was at the bar first. He raised a hand when Larry and Lang came in, and they joined him at the table he’d claimed.

“Agent Lang,” he said with a nod.

“Pretty boy,” Lang replied. Larry giggled as Edgey’s face crumpled up.

“I had rather hoped the jokes might stop now that you’re a married man.”

“Who’s joking? Just because I’m married doesn’t make you stop being pretty.” He winked; Edgey scowled; Larry burst out laughing.

“Stop it, you guys,” he said, waving a sleeve. “My best friend and my husband have to get along.”

“He started it,” Edgey mumbled while Lang flashed a smile.

It was already going well! Lang was in a good mood, making jokes, and laughing at Larry’s. By the time Larry fetched a couple drinks for Lang and himself, Nick arrived. He slid into the seat next to Edgey.

“Hi!” He stuck a hand out. “I’m Phoenix Wright.”

“Agent Shi-long Lang,” Lang replied, shaking his hand. Larry quickly made a surreptitious note in his phone: Sheelong. “Call me Lang.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Lang. I have heard a lot about you recently.” He glanced at both Edgey and Larry. “Like, a lot.”

“Larry’s talked about very little else,” Edgey added.

“You were hardly any better,” Nick shot back, elbowing him. Edgeworth sputtered and slapped at his arm.

“I’ve known Nick since we were kids, too,” Larry said. “We were all in the same class! I’m the reason Nick became a lawyer, you know.”

“I don’t think you should be proud of that. You stole Edgeworth’s lunch money.”

“And the ensuing trial inspired you! You’re welcome,” he added in a sing-song voice.

Lang raised an eyebrow. “So there’s a lot of history here, huh.”

Nick chuckled. “Oh, there’s a lot of history with Larry, for sure. Do you know how many times he’s been on trial for murder?”

“Hey! I’ve only been charged once!”

“Formally, that’s true,” Edgeworth said. “But you’ve been a suspicious figure in, what, four different murders? Or five, now.”

“Hah, you’re the one who accused me!” Larry frowned. “Wait, were you?”

“You can’t even remember anymore.” Edgeworth sighed and shook his head. “No wonder you keep getting caught up in these things.”

“The jobs don’t help either,” Nick said. “This guy jumps from job to job like he’s allergic to ‘em. The only thing he goes through quicker is relationships.”

Larry kept smiling. “Hah, guys, quit it!”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about this marriage business,” Edgeworth said. “If previous performance is any evidence, it’ll be done with by the end of the month.”

Nick snickered. “Wanna bet that he fucked up his part of the ceremony and now it’s not really legit?”

“God, that would be just like him, wouldn’t it?”

Lang’s hand slapped the table, startling them both into silence.

“Shut the hell up,” he growled; Nick and Edgey stared at him. “How can you talk about your friend that way?”

Larry laid a hand on Lang’s arm. His muscles were tense. “T-they’re just joking. You know. Just having a little fun.”

“Yeah.” Nick sat back. “Relax. We’re just having fun.”

“They’re always like this!” Larry chirped. “They even have a thing they say, right, guys? When something stinks...”

“...it’s usually the Butz,” Nick finished.

Lang went very still. Larry could still feel his arm, and he hadn’t relaxed at all. Suddenly, he stood, almost violently fast, so the other three jumped back. Without a word, he turned and marched out of the bar.

“Wh - hey!” Larry scrambled out of his seat to chase after him.

Even with his wounded leg Lang was fast; he’d gotten halfway down the next block before Larry got outside. Larry had to run, and was out of breath by the time he caught up.

“What - where - are you going?” he said between gasps.

“They really always treat you that way?” Lang’s voice was cold and sharp; the image of a fang came to Larry’s mind.

“They’re just kidding,” he said. “They don’t mean it, really. A-and they’re not wrong. I do screw up a lot.” He knocked on the side of his head. “It’s pretty empty up here, haha!”

“Larry...” Lang was looking at him strangely. Not like he was mad, or frustrated, or pitying, and those were the expressions Larry would have expected. Not... concern?

“It’s fine!” Larry tried again. “They’re my friends. They’re just messing around.”

Lang shook his head. “They shouldn’t talk to you like that. About you like that. Like you weren’t even in the room, like you couldn’t hear them - “ He cut himself off, snapping his teeth shut. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to hang out,” he said, not looking at Larry. “I’m going to go back to my hotel.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh, do you want a ride? Or I can call you a cab? Or - “

“I’ll walk.”

“But your leg - “

“It’s fine.” He shrugged Larry off and started walking briskly away. Larry watched, motionless, until Lang turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Even when he was gone, Larry stayed, staring at the empty space. What had he done wrong? How had he screwed up this time? It didn’t make sense. He’d acted cheerful, and Lang had been having fun, and Edgey and Nick were happy!

And now he was alone.

He went straight to his car; he couldn’t really stand the idea of facing Nick and Edgeworth right now, explaining where Lang had gone and why. They were just having fun. What did it matter if it was at Larry’s expense? He could take a joke. He’d spent a lifetime doing it. Sometimes he even got to laugh along. But he sure as hell didn’t feel like laughing now.

Chapter Text

When Larry got home, he flopped face-down on the couch and moped for about twenty minutes. Then, he decided that he was hungry, and also that he deserved a treat to keep his day from ending on a totally miserable note. Thirty minutes later, he opened his wallet to pay the delivery girl and inspiration struck.

“Inspiration” was, on this occasion, a small sliver of white sticking out from his billfold. He pulled it free to find a hotel keycard with the logo of the very hotel Lang was staying at. Even Larry was able to make that connection. Maybe he’d snagged it that first night, another forgotten moment, and hidden it away in his wallet. Picked it up to let himself back in after running to the ice machine or something. Regardless of how he got it, he had a key to Lang’s room, and that meant he had a golden, beautiful opportunity, an opportunity named breakfast.

And it had to be awesome.

Larry woke up ridiculously early the next day. He took a few minutes to inventory his kitchen, see what he had on hand to make the greatest breakfast ever. He got lucky; last time he’d gone grocery shopping, he’d been in a sensible kind of mood. Eggs, fruit, bacon, flour and baking powder and salt and sugar and bread and potatoes and orange juice and milk - everything he needed for a complete and balanced breakfast! And coincidentally, for most of the things he knew how to make.

He made pancakes, scrambled the eggs, toasted the bread, sliced up an orange and made some of those little strawberry fans with the delicate cuts, fried the bacon on the side, and whipped up some quick home fries. He filled a little bottle with milk, one with orange juice, and a thermos with coffee. He bundled it all up into separate containers, one for the hot items and one for the cold, and then those went into a backpack along with flatware, cutlery, a tray, and some other details. By the time it was done he was practically vibrating, full of anticipation. Lang was going to love this food, he was certain of it. And it would make up for all their spoiled meals so far, and had the added benefit of showing Lang what a good cook Larry could be! Everything was riding on this breakfast, and Larry liked his odds.

He arrived at the hotel before dawn. Nobody paid him any notice as he made his way up to Lang’s room. Slowly, carefully, he slipped the keycard into place and opened the door.

It was dark inside, which he’d expected. First, he checked that Lang was still asleep - and he was, lying in bed, curled up under the covers. Cute. Larry took a second just to look at him before focusing in on his operation. He went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Then he stuffed a towel under the bottom of the door to make sure no light got out when he finally flipped the switch.

He didn’t make a sound as he unpacked the entire meal, laying it out on plates. Larry’d done a couple of gigs as a food stylist for ads, and he put it to use to arrange the food beautifully, right down to the artful drizzle of syrup on the stack of pancakes. The eggs, bacon, home fries, all went on one, and the pancakes on another. The strawberries and orange were used as little decorative accents. A pat of butter on the toast, a tiny bottle of syrup for the pancakes. A glass each for the milk and orange juice and a mug for the coffee. And finally, the piece of resistance, a slender vase with a single yellow carnation. The whole meal went onto a folding tray with legs that popped out to lift it up far enough for someone’s legs to fit under. After all, the only thing better than breakfast was breakfast in bed.

Carrying the tray, he pushed the bathroom door open. He took careful, quiet steps across the room and around to Lang’s side of the bed. The room smelled like breakfast, sunlight was just beginning to filter through the curtains, and the moment was perfect. Larry stood next to the bed, tray balanced carefully in his hands, and sang, “Good morning!”

Lang’d been completely motionless, under layers of sheets and blankets, face pressed into the pillow. When Larry spoke, he moved so quickly Larry couldn’t see it. The tray went flying as Lang kicked wildly, transitioning into a roll that took him out of the bed. He carried that momentum through as he sprang, tackling Larry and pinning him to the ground, drawing his gun from some unseen place at the same time. The whole thing took less than a second; Larry was holding a tray of breakfast, and then he was on the ground with a gun in his face.

It took a terrifyingly long heartbeat for Lang to focus his eyes and identify the man under him. “Larry?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Larry stammered, trying not move. “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean a-anything, I’m sorry!”

Lang sat back, pulling his weight off Larry’s chest and the gun out of his face. “Shit, Larry,” he hissed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was - I was just trying to surprise you! Like a nice surprise, you know? With breakfast.” And now, breakfast was all over him. The good thing about being doused in orange juice was that it hid Larry’s terror-sweat.

“I could have shot you.” The gun disappeared and Lang pinched the bridge of his nose, still blinking away sleep. “Fucking... fundamentally stupid fucking idea. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Larry repeated as Lang climbed off him. “I’ll clean it up, and then we can - “

Lang pointed at the door.“Get the fuck out, Larry.”

Larry sat up and shook his head. “Wait, I - “

“Out. Now.”

Lang’s voice was low and dark and calm, which was way scarier than if he’d been shouting. Larry nodded mutely and scrambled to comply, leaving the mess he’d brought behind. He didn’t stop until he was safely at home. It took two showers to get rid of all the syrup and failure.

Larry knew about fucking up, and one thing he knew for sure was that jumping to fix it immediately almost always made it worse. He fought the urge to call Lang and explain or send him a long apology, because that wasn’t going to help. He needed to give Lang some space to be mad first. Perfectly valid feelings, and Larry needed to stay out of his way if he didn’t want to make it worse.

Boy, it was hard, though.

When Larry knocked on the door to Edgey’s office, he half-expected silence. Instead, Edgey called, “Come in.” Edgey looked surprised when Larry pushed through the door, though. Detective Gumshoe was standing beside the desk, also looking at Larry. They might have just not been expecting him; it wasn’t like he’d made an appointment. Or, it might have been the fact that as soon as Larry got through the door, he started bawling.

“Edgeyyyy,” he wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I made a mistake! A really bad one! I need your help!”

Edgey stood up. “What have you done now?”

“I did something I shouldn’t have and now Lang’s mad at meeeee!”

Edgeworth sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Not a murder, then.”

“The only thing that’s dying are my chances with Lang!” Larry flopped onto the couch, sobbing.

“Aw, hey, pal,” Gumshoe said awkwardly, patting Larry on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay. I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

Larry cried harder.

Edgeworth placed a hand on Gumshoe’s arm. “Detective, do you think you could give us a minute?”

“Sure. Yeah. Um.” He scratched the back of his head. “Let me know if you need help with...” He conspicuously didn’t look at Larry. “...anything?”

Edgeworth patted his arm. “Right now all I need is for you to go file that evidence.”

When Gumshoe was gone, Edgeworth sat carefully next to Larry and offered him a box of tissues. “Okay, Larry, breathe. What happened?”

Larry blew his nose noisily and started to explain. Edgey winced at a couple points, which wasn’t a great sign, and at the end he was staring at Larry stone-faced.

“Larry,” he said calmly, “you broke into his hotel room.”

“I didn’t break anything!”

“That’s not - “ He took a breath. “Regardless, you surprised him while he was asleep. You are aware of Agent Lang’s job, correct? What he does for a living?”

“Y-yeah? I mean, he works for Interpol...”

“And you understand it is a dangerous position?”

Larry nodded.

“Okay. Larry.” Edgeworth wasn’t yelling at him, which was weird, and made Larry even more tense. When would he start? “Lang is in a position where he has a lot of enemies, worldwide. There are people who would like to see him dead, and would be willing to put in the effort to make that happen. And he is sleeping in a hotel room, which he can only make so secure, in a strange city. With that in mind, can you understand why, perhaps, he might react poorly to someone unexpectedly entering?”

Larry’s eyes went wide. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” he whispered. “He - he thought I was going to hurt him?”

“Perhaps not consciously, but I’d expect his instincts kicked in.”

Larry groaned. “Oh, man. I knew I messed up but that’s even worse than I thought! I thought he was just mad about me invading his privacy!”

“You shouldn’t have done that either,” Edgey said, “even if he wasn’t an Interpol agent. Why did you possibly think it was a good idea?”

“I thought it would be romantic! You know, a surprise, breakfast in bed...” He was tearing up again. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

This was the point where Edgeworth would call him an idiot and tell him this was exactly what he’d expected to happen all along. Instead, Edgey actually patted him on the thigh. “You had good intentions,” he said. “Once he’s calmed down, I’m sure you can explain that to him.”

Larry sat up straight. “Right! Yes! That’s what I needed your help with!” He dug his phone out of his pocket and held it out.

Edgey stared at it. “What is this?”

“I need you to hang on to it for me,” Larry said, pushing it forward. “If I keep it I’m gonna start texting him apologies and stuff, and I always overapologize because I feel really bad and want to make it better but that just makes it worse! So I figured, if you keep it, you can let me know if he tries to get in touch, but I can’t make it worse!”

Edgeworth lifted an eyebrow. “That’s... oddly self-aware.”

“Heh.” Larry knocked on his head and stuck out his tongue. “The good thing about being such a screwup is that I know all the ways to screw up already!”

“I - “ Edgeworth took a breath. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Huh?”

“Agent Lang - last night, he - “ Edgey cleared his throat. “He pointed out that I have, perhaps, been treating you rather harshly. And I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh?” Larry tilted his head. “Wait, what?”

Edgeworth sat up very straight. “I’m sorry, Larry. I’m sorry for my comments last night, and for the way I’ve treated you for some time now. I’ve been disrespectful. I do consider you a friend, and as a friend you deserve better than that. So, I’m sorry.”

Larry blinked slowly as the magnitude of his words sank in. When they did, the tears resurfaced. “Edgey...!” He grabbed Edgeworth in a big hug, pulling him close. “I love you, man,” he sobbed into his shoulder.

Edgeworth patted his back. “I love you too, Larry.”

It took a minute for Larry to get himself together enough to sit back up. “Thanks, man,” he said, cleaning his face with another tissue. “Sorry, I think I got some stuff on your suit.”

Edgeworth looked down at the soggy shoulder of his jacket. “It’s fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ll have it cleaned. I think Wright would like a chance to speak with you as well,” he added, dabbing at his shoulder with a tissue. “Perhaps you can ruin his suit next.”

“Hehe, I’d love to!” Larry stuck his thumb up high. “You think he’s gonna say nice things about me too?”

“Something along those lines.” Edgeworth finally took the phone from Larry’s hand. “And yes, I will keep your phone safe.”

“Thanks.” Larry sighed deeply. “This is so hard. I thought it would be easier, you know? Because, like, we’re already married. So it’s like, a premade relationship.”

Edgeworth nodded, like he’d been waiting for him to say that. “Do you actually want it to work?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve never expressed a sexual or romantic attraction to a man before. You barely know Lang. And wasn’t there a girl already? No one, including him, would blame you for wanting to forget the whole thing. So why are you trying so hard?”

“I...” Larry frowned, his brow furrowed. After a moment, he said, “I dunno. I mean, I like Lang. He’s cool. And he’s fun to hang out with, when I get the chance.”

“Is that enough to marry him? Larry, if this hadn’t happened, would you have even considered pursuing him? I’m not trying to discourage you,” Edgeworth added. “I’m just worried you’ve decided to do this because it’s a challenge, or something, and not because you actually want to have a romantic relationship with him. If you wouldn’t have dated him, why would you marry him?”

Larry stared at the floor, thinking hard. Edgey was a smart guy. If he was concerned, then there was probably a good reason to be concerned. And it was true that he hadn’t really thought about it all that much. He’d just acted. That’s what he always did. Asking “why” was for other people. Not the Butz.

“I don’t know. I just...” He tapped his chin, thinking. “When you’re drunk, it’s like, you lose impulse control, right? Like. Like you’re doing things you wanna do without thinking about consequences and stuff. I liked him enough to marry him. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Perhaps.” Edgeworth was quiet for a moment. “Do you know what happened at the Embassy? Specifically, with Shih-na.”

“Uh, yeah, she was a spy or something? Right?”

“Correct. And she’d been working with Lang for seven years. She was his trusted partner. He cared strongly enough for her that he took a bullet for her, even after her betrayal was revealed.”

“Woah.” He’d known how Lang had been shot, of course, but not all the details.

“Lang learned that someone he trusted completely, someone he expected to stay by his side forever, someone he was willing to die for, had been lying to him since the day they met. And then, less than six hours later, he’s in a bar completely shitfaced making a lifelong vow. Surely you can see a connection.”

“Are you trying to say I’m taking advantage of him or something?”

“I’m saying you both came into this situation from very different perspectives.” Edgeworth laid a hand on Larry’s shoulder. “You had been through a stressful day, including some romantic rejection, and were dealing with it through alcohol and a hookup. Lang had just lost one of his longest, most secure relationships, and immediately bound himself to someone else. What are you hoping to get out of this? What is he?”

“Woah.” Larry scratched his head. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh.”

“I may have put some thought into it last night, yes,” Edgeworth admitted. “Wright and I had a discussion after you left.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m concerned. You’re a dog chasing a car. What do you think is going to happen if you catch it? I don’t need an answer,” Edgeworth added. “You’re not accountable to me. But I’d like to know that you have an answer.”

“Man. I just came to ask you to hang on to my phone.” Larry shook his head. “You make a lot of good points, though. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Do that.” Edgeworth stood up. “I’ll keep your phone until you come to reclaim it. And I’ll let you know if Lang reaches out.”

“Thanks, man.” He gave Edgeworth a big hug (and even got a little back) before heading out. That big detective was just down the hall, pretending very hard that he wasn’t waiting or worrying, and he patted Larry on the back as he passed.

“You look like you’re feeling better, pal,” he said. “See? It wasn’t that bad, right?”

“Uh, well...” Larry trailed off, not sure how he should respond. He finally decided on, “It’s gonna get better.”

He repeated that to himself as he walked home with his head bowed and his hands in his pockets. He had to believe it.

Chapter Text

Thinking was hard. Larry’d never been good at it.

Did he like Lang? Yes. Did he like like Lang? He was pretty sure. Would he kiss Lang, and all the other stuff? He’d been a little nervous about that question, but he had to admit to himself that he would. (And, in fact, had already done so. (He really really wished he remembered it. (Why couldn’t he have taken a video of that part? (Wait, that would have been worse. (...would it?)))))

Did he want to marry Lang?

Larry’d never been casual about love. When he fell for a girl, he fell hard. Sometimes it made him look cute; more often, it made him look desperate. But he’d have done anything for Cindy, or Kiyance, or Bennifer, or Katty Tom, or Donna, or Mindy. Like, literally anything. If any one of them had wanted to marry him he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But every single one had left him, instead. (Well, except Cindy.)

It didn’t feel like that with Lang. He wasn’t head-over-heels, out-of-control, climb-on-roofs and fly-to-Tibet in love. But there was something anyway, something low and small and warm that felt like it could grow. He’d never felt love that way. Why start now? He liked spending time with Lang. He thought he was hot. And... on that first morning, when he woke up in Lang’s bed, when he’d asked about how to get out of it, there’d been a flash of something on Lang’s face and a tone to his voice. Larry hadn’t thought about it at the time, panicking and hungover, but he remembered it. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was: he didn’t like it. He wanted to make it go away. Was that all this was? Trying to fix a mistake?

Larry had a headache.

He went home and laid face down on his couch in silence for a while, trying his damnedest not to think anymore.

The problem was, as with most great artists, Larry’s best ideas came at the worst times. And this, this was a good idea. Really, this time. He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on how miserable he felt, but he couldn’t stop turning it over in his mind, figuring it out. What materials he needed, which tools. It was an image in his head, and it wouldn’t leave him alone to brood properly, so he did the only thing he could to get it out.

He made it.

It took him the rest of the day, and a good chunk of the next. Kept his hands too busy to reach for his phone, kept his mind too busy to worry. He didn’t return to reclaim his phone until late in the afternoon. Edgeworth handed it over with a concerned look, and Larry just grinned. As soon as he stepped out of the office, he messaged Lang.

i’m sorry about yestrday. can I come over tmorrow? to talk?

It took a few minutes for a response to come through.

Tomorrow evening.

Larry sighed in relief. It wasn’t much, but he’d take it.

Last chance.

Chapter Text

Larry arrived at Lang’s hotel in his nicest blazer, his hair combed back with the good gel, his beard neatly trimmed. He knocked, resting his other hand in his pocket to make sure the roughly wrapped package was still there. He couldn’t blow it, not now. When Lang opened the door, he knew every word would matter, and this one maybe most of all.

“Hey.”

Nailed it.

“Hey.” Lang stepped back to let him in. The hotel room looked mostly the same as it had before, except cleaner. Lang’s stuff wasn’t strewn about anymore. The space felt sterile and generic and something about it bothered Larry. But he wasn’t here to critique a hotel’s interior design; he was here to shoot his last shot.

They both talked at the same time.

“I’m sorry about the - “

“I’ve got a flight booked tomorrow.”

Larry blinked. “Oh.” He blinked again. “Wait.” One more time, like he was rubbing the words in. “Tomorrow? You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Got cleared to fly.”

“Oh.” The room. Lang had packed. “But.” He furrowed his brow. “You said you’d wait a week.”

“I did, Larry. It’s been a week.”

“No, it - “ He stopped, counted on his fingers. Missed dinner, lunch cut short, zoo trip, breakfast disaster, yesterday, today - “That’s six days.”

“And tomorrow makes a week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lang shrugged. “Wanted to at least tell you in person.”

“I...” Larry stared at the floor. “So I didn’t... make it, huh.”

Lang’s face softened. “It’s not your fault. This just isn’t going to work. I couldn’t manage a single day where I could spend time with you without my job getting in the way.”

“I didn’t mind!”

“Yeah, you said that.” Lang shook his head. “I did, though. I can’t - I just can’t. I’m sorry. I like you, Larry, really. You’re a nice guy. You deserve someone who can give you the time and attention you deserve, and it’s not me.”

Larry swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “I get it,” he said. “Um. Yeah. I think I thought - yeah. It’s fine. It’s not like I really thought this could work,” he lied.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I appreciate the effort. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone hunt me that hard.”

Larry squeezed the package in his pocket. “Speaking of. Um. I - if it’s weird now it’s not like you have to take it.”

Lang raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you got me another gift.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess now it’s a goodbye gift.” He offered it. “But I made it for you anyway so you might as well take it, right?”

Lang took the bundle cautiously. “You made something for me?” Slowly, he unrolled the bundle, laying the handkerchief flat on his palm. His expression stayed mystified as he examined the contents. “What is it?”

Lang was holding a small item, consisting of two objects held together with a chain. The first was a flat, thin piece of metal with a couple holes cut into it and a curled end. The other piece was golden, in the shape of a wolf’s head. It had been cast in bronze, with a seam around it and a small vent.

“It’s a door jam,” Larry explained. “Like, a portable one. You put the metal bit into the door, and then you slide the other part over it, and it seals it up so it can’t get opened.”

“I think I’ve seen those before,” Lang replied, still peering at it. “But not like this.”

“This one will make a little sound if someone tries to open it, so if you’re asleep you can wake up!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! Here, lemme show you how it works.” Larry stuck out his hand and Lang dropped the device into his palm. Larry opened the hotel room door enough to slip the metal piece between the door and the frame. He closed it again and dropped the wolf’s head into place. Then, with a flourish, he tugged at the door handle. The door didn’t budge, but the little wolf howled.

“Tada!” Larry turned to see Lang staring at him. “It’s - uh.” His shoulders slumped. “I mean, you don’t have to use it. But I thought it could be helpful. To make sure no one tries to, y’know. Bring you breakfast.”

“You made this?” Lang repeated, stepping close enough to run his fingers over the wolf. “For me?”

“Y-yeah.” He laughed half-heartedly. “I mean, it’s probably stupid, I think you can buy them for like ten bucks. So it’s not - it’s not like a big deal or whatever, if it’s weird.”

“Larry. It’s not weird. It’s...” He exhaled. “Fuck.”

Larry tilted his head. “Huh?”

Lang grabbed him by the back of his head and kissed him.

Larry couldn’t remember their real first kiss, two weeks ago, so he wasn’t prepared for how Lang kissed him, hard, firm, possessive. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a claim, and suddenly Larry understood why wolves mated for life. Because how could he possibly ever kiss someone else, now that he’d felt this? In an instant, his world shifted, and now he was owned.

When Lang stopped to breathe, Larry said, “Woah.”

Lang laughed. Then he grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him again, devoured him. Larry sank into it, whimpering, because he wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a kiss this good in his entire life. This time, when Lang started to pull away Larry threw his arms around him to keep him from going anywhere and kissed him back. Lang let out a muffled little noise of surprise that faded into a moan, deep and delicious and god, Larry wanted to bathe in it.

Kiss by kiss, they made their way to the bed. Larry wound up on his back with Lang crawling over him, straddling him.

“Are you sure?” Larry managed to ask between kisses.

“Yeah,” Lang panted back. “Fuck, yeah, god.”

“I’ve only really been with a guy once before.”

Lang paused to look down at him. After a moment, he laughed. “Same here,” he said, flashing his teeth in a smile. “We’ll just have to figure this out.”

Larry smiled shyly. “I’ve got some ideas.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

Larry slid his hands down Lang’s sides. “Probably easier if I just show you.” With a little prodding, Lang rolled onto his back and now Larry was the one kneeling over him. “For a start...” He slipped his hands under the fabric of Lang’s shirt and tugged. In a moment Lang’s chest was bare, beautiful, golden, a monument of muscle that made Larry’s mouth water. He wanted to touch it. He could touch it. He did.

Woah.

Alright, so, it couldn’t be that different from a girl, right? Lang didn’t have tits. Not big soft ones, at least; he had some real nice firm pectorals, though, that Larry could still do a lot of things with. Like, for example, swooping down and licking a broad stripe up the middle of his chest, making him gasp. Or taking one nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue across it. That was a struggle, mainly because Lang bucked under him, hissing between his teeth.

Larry looked up. “Too much?”

Lang panted, looking dazed. “Fuck,” he said.

Larry eased up, instead running his hands down Lang’s chest - and goddamn, the man was cut.

When he caught his breath, Lang spoke again. “I don’t think you did that before.”

“Shit, really?” Larry frowned. “Guess I didn’t do a very good job.”

Lang laughed at that, falling back to the bed, which Larry took as a sign to continue. He rolled Lang’s nipples between his fingers, grabbing and squeezing his pecs and getting cute tiny sounds out of him in response. And Larry was enjoying this, too, feeling tingly and warm all over. It was different from when he’d done this with a girl. Lang was not soft, but firm; not curvy, but angular; not warm, but lava-hot. It was a little scary.

But it was the same, too. He wanted his hands and his mouth on Lang’s skin. He wanted to see Lang’s face when he felt really, really good. He wanted to make Lang feel really, really good. And he had one big advantage, compared to the first time he’d slept with a girl: he already knew what a guy liked.

With that in mind, he dropped a hand to Lang’s waist and started on his belt. It came free, and he peeled away those tight leather pants and Jesus, Lang’s thighs were incredible. Larry had absolutely one hundred percent intended to go straight to the main event but he was entranced. He bent low and felt Lang tense in anticipation before he kissed his thighs softly, his skin salty sweet. Lang let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a gasp.

“Hey,” Lang managed to say; his voice was unusually weak. “Am I the only one who’s gonna get naked for this?”

“Oh! Uh.” Larry sat up. “I can - yeah, if you want - “

“Of course I want, you fucking idiot.” Lang grabbed him by the lapels of his blazer and pulled himself up, kissing Larry deep, all tongue and teeth until they had to break apart to pull Larry’s shirt up over his head. And just like that, he was bare from the waist up. Larry was pretty okay with his body, generally speaking, but he wasn’t face to face with the hottest guy in the state, generally speaking. But Lang looked at him hungrily anyway, hands roaming down Larry’s ribs and across his stomach and around to his shoulder blades and down his spine and anywhere, everywhere.

“You okay?” Lang asked, and Larry realized he was shivering.

“Fine,” he croaked, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Fine. It’s - it just feels really good when you touch me.”

“Really?” Lang pressed a hand against the small of Larry’s back, with his legs still spread around his hips. “I haven’t even touched you anywhere interesting yet.”

Larry tried not to squeak when Lang’s fingers caresses his collarbone. “Oh, no, trust me, you totally have.”

They kissed again, for a while, and Larry came to the realization that he was sitting in Lang’s lap and he still had his pants on. This was extra ridiculous because Lang did not, which meant Larry could see exactly how much he was enjoying it. Ooh, Larry was going to suck his cock. Fuck, just the thought of that was unbearable. What would it feel like? What would it taste like?

Larry jerked his lips away from Lang so quickly there was an audible pop. “Can I suck your dick?”

He’d expected Lang to laugh at him. Instead, Lang’s eyes went dark and deep. “Absolutely,” he said, the words barely a breath against Larry’s skin.

Larry wiggled out of Lang’s embrace and scooted down the bed, kneeling between his knees. Lang’s cock stood in front of him, emerging from a thatch of curly hair the same golden brown as on his head, like it was lit from below by a gentle warm light. The tip, in contrast, was dark and red and swollen until the skin looked almost painfully taut. Curiously, Larry reached for it. When his fingers brushed against the shaft Lang hissed and Larry jerked away.

“Sorry! Did - did that hurt?”

“No, it - fuck.” Lang bit his lip for a second, breathing deep. “Keep going. Trust me, I’ll let you know if it hurts.”

Oh, Larry could read a lot into that sentence. For now, though, he reached out again, trailing his fingertips along Lang’s hard flesh. It didn’t feel all that different from his own, really; a little smaller, maybe a little smoother. The big difference was that instead of feeling his own pleasure, he got to feel Lang’s, through the way his blood pulsed hot under his skin and the way his hips twitched and the way his breath hitched. Carefully, Larry circled the shaft with his fingers and began a slow, gentle pumping.

And fuck, Lang keened, dropped his head back and released a desperate sound like he was fighting the urge to howl. It shot straight down Larry’s spine and that little gentle warmth in his chest flared up and burned away any lingering doubts. Yes, he loved Lang, yes, he loved this, yes, he wanted to make him make that noise again and again and again until he couldn’t keep quiet, until he lost all control, until he felt the same falling and flying that tore at Larry’s heart. And he could, he knew he could, he knew it.

He kept one hand on Lang’s dick, pumping slowly. With the other he traced down his hips and thighs, back down to the spot he’d focused on before. This time he switched to the other leg, ducking his head to kiss the inner thigh there. Slowly, carefully, agonizingly, he worked his way up, peppering kisses along the way. The closer he got to Lang’s cock, the slower his hand went, until it was stopped, pressed flat against Lang’s belly. This was a technique he’d used before, more or less - his hand had been doing something else. But it translated well enough; Lang’s breath slowed and he relaxed into the bedding, still shivering slightly under Larry’s lips but otherwise loosening the tension that had been building.

Larry waited.

And then, at just the right moment, right when Lang lifted his head to look and took a breath to say something, Larry wrapped his lips around his cock.

Lang yelped, the sound bursting out of him as Larry dipped his head further. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he could make a pretty educated guess based on his own experience. He liked it when a girl did this thing, or that thing, and with that to guide him he set about putting his tongue to work. It seemed to be working; Lang had gone stiff all over, clutching at the sheets and breathing so hard it was almost a growl.

Larry was delighted to discover that there were in fact quite a few differences between himself and Lang. For example, Lang didn’t seem to respond strongly to Larry simply pushing himself as far down as he could stand and back up again, but when Larry focused on sloppily licking the head he went nuts. And Larry liked it very, very much when that happened, so he did it a lot. Not too much, though; he made sure to relent, to let stimulation rise and fall, to let the sensation build stronger every time.

He felt like he could have kept doing this for hours, even though his jaw was starting to ache, but Lang grabbed him by the hair and pulled. Larry yelped with pain and surprise and suddenly he was on his back again, under Lang, close to his face, all flushed skin and hot breath and bared teeth.

Lang kissed him, feverishly, his tongue thrusting into Larry’s mouth like he was trying to taste himself. When he had to breathe his lips stayed brushing against Larry’s, like he couldn’t bear to be any further. “You got any more ideas?” he murmured. “Because I’ve liked ‘em so far.”

Larry did, actually. He’d done some research, by which he meant, jerking off to gay porn pretty much every night that past week and a couple mornings. And sure, yeah, porn wasn’t real life, and some things looked better than they felt, but he felt he’d become aware of some delightful possibilities. Right now, though, with Lang sucking a bruise onto the skin just under the curve of his jaw, it was hard to remember details. Something about butts?

Too much thinking. Back to basics. He wanted to touch his dick, and he wanted to touch Lang’s dick, so... “Do you - ah - do you have any lotion or - or something?”

Lang stopped for just a second. “Yeah, I think so. Hang on.” He rolled off the bed and ducked into the bathroom. Larry took the chance to kick off his pants, tossing them blindly, and tried not to moan when he finally got a hand on himself. It wasn’t easy, and there might have been a little whining as he jerked off, giving himself some of the stimulation he so desperately craved. His eyes closed, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth in that way it did when he was focused on something. When he opened his eyes again it was to see Lang, watching him with a smirk.

“Ah - jeez!” Larry tried to cover himself for a desperate moment before remembering that, well, everything.

“You look cute like that,” Lang said, his smirk growing into a grin as he slid onto the bed. In one hand he held one of those tiny travel size bottles of lotion that hotels so graciously provided. “This good?”

“Yeah, that’s - yeah. Should be. I mean. Since we don’t have lube. Unless you have lube?”

“No, Larry, I don’t have lube.”

“I would’ve - I mean, I didn’t think we were gonna - “

“Shush.” Lang pressed the bottle of lotion into his palm, taking the opportunity to climb over Larry once more. “What’s the plan?”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.” Larry squirted a dollop of lotion onto his hand; it smelled like eucalyptus. “Just - I thought - like this.” He shifted under Lang until their cocks bumped together, and hot damn did that feel good. Larry reached down, working his arm between them, and wrapped his hand around both of them, squeezing together. That was good. That was real good. He started to move his hand, pumping them both at the same time, and it was way, way better than he’d expected. He’d thought it would be like jacking off, which was great, sure, but this was miles ahead of that. Lang was above him, biting his lip, his eyes distant and unfocused. His cock was hot and hard against Larry’s, hotter than his hand, better. The lotion helped Larry’s hand slide smoothly and worked between them to ease their contact.

But then, Lang took a breath and moved, just a little thrust, into Larry’s fist and against Larry’s dick and fuck. Larry gasped and tightened his grip and said, “Do that again.”

Lang started slow, tentative, but it didn’t take long for him to pick up speed. Larry tried to help out but in the end just held his hand still for Lang to thrust into, dragging his shaft along Larry’s, which was something brand new and utterly amazing. And Lang, god, Lang was gorgeous, sweat beading on his forehead, grunting and straining. He kissed Larry like a plane crash, like he couldn’t stop it, falling into his mouth and deeper, deeper, Larry wanted all of it, Larry wanted everything.

Lang’s thrusts got faster, frantic, and Larry could feel his cock throbbing. “Larry,” he moaned, and honestly a name like that had no business sounding so fucking hot but Lang made it work somehow. “Larry, fuck, Larry - !”

Lang threw his head back, mouth open in a wordless howl, muscles rippling under his skin as his body spasmed. It was incredible to see, and Larry was struck by the realization that he was the only person who’d ever seen it, the only person who ever would, and that thought was almost enough to make him come. And then he felt Lang’s cock pulsing and the hot gush over his fingers and Lang swooped down to kiss him and it was everything and he was gone.

He came back with a gasp, the world snapping into focus with Lang collapsed on top of him, their chests heaving, their skin sticky with sweat and their stomach filthy, the room filled with the stink and heat of it. Larry kissed Lang softly, gently, and he’d never been more in love. This, this was everything, now. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would ever matter again.

After a few minutes Lang groaned and rolled off him, lying on his back on the ruined sheets. Larry took the initiative to run to the bathroom and came back with a warm damp hand towel, swiped it across Lang’s perfect abs to clean them up and made an effort to take care of himself too. That done, he curled up at Lang’s side, pressing as much of himself against him as he could for maximum skin contact. He wouldn’t mind if Lang wanted to climb back on top of him, but he was still breathing kind of hard and Larry didn’t want to push him.

After a few minutes, though, Lang lifted an arm and draped it over Larry’s shoulder, and Larry took this as a signal that it was time for cuddling. He nuzzled into Lang’s chest, hugging him across his waist and hooking a leg over his. He considered saying something: Was that good? Did you enjoy it? I love you? In the end, though, he was sure he couldn’t possibly express himself with more words, so he pressed his lips against Lang’s skin and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

The sunlight pouring into Lang’s hotel room was much nicer when Larry wasn’t mind-crushingly hungover. It was definitely better, too, that he didn’t have to run to the toilet first thing. He was able to take his time and luxuriate in the soft bed, crisp clean sheets, and Lang’s arm wrapped around his waist.

Lang was still asleep. His features were so much softer like this. There was a permanent furrow to his brow and a curl to his lip that vanished completely. He looked peaceful. Larry had the urge to kiss him (and as far as he knew, he could; they were married, it seemed like it would be within boundaries). But he didn’t want to wake him up, so he kept looking instead. It was only a few minutes until Lang shifted anyway, pulling himself closer to Larry before opening his eyes and gazing up at him.

“Good morning,” Larry crooned.

Lang blinked. “Uh.”

“Not a morning person?” Larry laughed and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m not usually either. You want coffee? I can make you coffee.”

“No, I...” Lang shook his head and sat up. “What time is it?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Hmm.” Larry peered at the hotel alarm clock. “Almost nine.”

“Shit.” Lang stretched and groaned. “I gotta get moving.”

“Oh?” Larry watched as Lang swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Where?”

“Flight’s at ten-thirty.”

Something in Larry’s stomach went cold and hard. “You’re... still leaving?”

“I have to,” Lang said, not looking at him. “Got too much to do.”

“Oh. Are you coming back?”

Silence.

Larry swallowed hard. “I thought - I mean, I hoped - “

“I’m sorry,” Lang said.

There was a long moment of silence with nothing but the sounds of their breathing.

Lang spoke first. “I gotta take a shower.”

He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Larry waited until he heard the water running to breathe, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to do it without crying.

Lang was leaving.

Lang was leaving him.

They’d spent the night together and he thought that it changed things, that it was different, that this could work after all, but now Lang was leaving him.

Larry bit his lip to stay quiet as he slowly climbed out of bed. He gathered his clothes, slipped them back on. He could take a hint. He knew the drill. He left the door jam on top of Lang’s packed suitcase, and he managed to make it all the way to the elevator before he started to cry.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Larry? Are you... okay?”

Larry blinked. He’d been staring at his drink, not drinking it, and apparently missed something Nick said. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said.

Nick and Edgey looked at each other, and Larry scowled. “You’ve been talking about me again, haven’t you?”

“We’re worried,” Nick said. “You’ve been acting kind of off, lately.”

“You’ve been rather lethargic,” Edgey said, “and don’t seem to be taking joy in things you used to. Such as a night out with friends.” He waved a hand at their table and the drinks they’d ordered.

“And I don’t think I’ve seen you so much as flirt with a girl in at least a month.”

“Seriously, do you guys rehearse this stuff?”

“Larry.”

Larry sighed. “I’m fine,” he said. “I am. I’m just... I’m just a little bummed out. I’ll get over it.”

“Get over it?” Edgeworth frowned. “Larry, is this about Agent Lang?”

Larry focused on his drink. Specifically, drinking it.

“Dude.” Nick reached a hand out across the table. “It’s been three months. I’m worried about you.”

“It’s stupid,” Larry said, pouting. “I mean it’s not even like we were a thing, you know? Like, I didn’t get dumped.”

Edgey shook his head. “You put a great deal of emotional investment in that relationship, short as it was. It’s more than reasonable to be sad about it ending.”

“Agreed.” Nick tapped on the table. “Sure, it wasn’t exactly your longest relationship, but that’s never really mattered with you, has it?”

“I guess not.” Larry ran a finger around the rim of his pint glass. “I’m sorry, guys. I know I’m not exactly fun to be around right now.”

Edgeworth sighed. “That’s not the point, Larry.”

He got quiet. After a minute, he said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Larry - “

He was already leaving.

It’s not like they were wrong. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Lang. That last night had been clumsy and awkward, and neither of them had any idea what they were doing. But it had been wonderful anyway, and Larry’d woken up feeling so completely contented, almost blissful. If Edgey had asked him at that moment what he wanted out of the situation, his answer would have been to wake up beside Shi-long Lang every morning just like that.

He’d had his heart broken before, many times. He loved too hard to avoid it. He’d always been able to recover. Cindy had been hard, of course, but in a way it had helped to know she didn’t want to leave him. He’d never forget her, and he’d probably never stop loving her at least a little. Since there, girl after girl had decided he was too much, too intense, too dumb, too goofy, too aimless. He didn’t even know what was too much about him for Lang. Or maybe not enough.

Three months was a long time to recover from a week long relationship, sure. But he couldn’t stand the idea of waking up next to someone else yet. He would, eventually. It wasn’t like they’d really been married. Getting married wasn’t saying some words and messing around with origami. That was the ceremony, sure, but not a marriage. A marriage was... was...

Was what?

A vow?

A pledge?

A promise?

He couldn’t fault Lang for breaking it. He’d never wanted to make it in the first place. Of course he’d left. Probably moved on, probably having loads of fun now that he didn’t have to worry about staying a virgin. Probably out every night with a different guy, living life to the fullest. Probably broken those marriage vows a hundred different ways.

And there was absolutely no reason why Larry couldn’t do the same. Hell, he didn’t even have a ring. He’d fall in love again. He always did. Any day now, he’d meet a sweet new pretty girl and forget all about Lang. Any day now.

Or maybe he’d never stop loving Lang at least a little.

But none of it really mattered. Lang wasn’t gonna come back. Larry couldn’t change that. All he could do was keep going and hope that someday he might find someone who’d stay with a guy so intolerable that a man whose entire creed was loyalty had divorced him.

Fuck.

“Okay, there’s seriously something wrong.” Phoenix set down his drink and looked at Edgeworth. “Like, clinically. Should we get him therapy?”

“Therapy is generally only effective if the recipient is willing,” Edgeworth answered, tracing the rim of his wine glass with one fingertip. “I’m not certain that Larry’s in a state where he’d be receptive.”

“We have to do something.”

“He was dumped. I don’t mean to sound callous but he will move on, as he always does. With time.”

“I’m not so sure.” Phoenix looked towards the door of the bar, where Larry had vanished. “I haven’t seen him this torn up since Cindy. There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“What, exactly, do you expect us to do? Take him to the Playboy mansion and let him pick a bunny?”

“Isn’t that in, like, Arizona?”

“I don’t know where the Playboy mansion is, Phoenix.”

“Right.” Phoenix stared at his drink for a few seconds, thinking. The moment when it clicked was visible. “Actually, there might not be anything we can do... but there’s something you can do.”

“Oh, god.” Edgeworth drained his drink and ordered another. He’d need it to agree to this.

Chapter Text

“I need your help, Larry.”

It may have been the first time in their adult lives Miles Edgeworth had needed Larry Butz. Hell, it may have been the first time ever! So of course Larry had agreed, and now he was at the airport with his old suitcase stuffed to the brim, waiting for Edgey to meet him.

Edgey’s terrifying sister apparently had some case with forged art, and needed the help of an expert to determine which pieces were legit. It was one field in which Larry could actually be of use. He hadn’t spent all that time studying for nothing after all! And he was always happy to help a friend. Plus, y’know. Maybe getting out of town for a while would be good for him. He hadn’t done much other than moping around his apartment anyway.

It wasn’t like Edgey to be late. Larry checked his phone nervously. Had he gotten the time wrong? The date? He didn’t have any information on the flight. He actually wasn’t even sure where it was headed, and... huh. He probably should have asked that. Edgey’d just told him to make sure to bring a nice sweater.

Right when he decided to call Edgey, his phone rang. He tried not to sound too distressed as he answered. “Hey! I’m at the airport, I thought you were meeting me here? Did I get the time wrong?”

“No, you’re in the right place, Larry. I’m running late. I had an urgent matter to deal with.” He sounded pretty chill, though, so it couldn’t have been too big a deal. “You should check in,” he continued.

Larry frowned. “Huh? Don’t I have to wait for you?”

“Your ticket’s under your name. I placed separate reservations. It’s policy. So you can check in, get through security, and I’ll meet you at the gate.”

“Uh. Okay, sure! I’ll see you when you get here!” Larry tucked the phone away carefully, making sure his ringer was on. Whatever happened must have been a big deal for Edgeworth to be late, but if he said Larry should go, then Larry would go. Edgey had a much better head for this stuff, and the odds were high that Larry’d get lost on the way to the terminal anyway, so he might as well start now!

When he approached the ticket counter, the lady working behind it smiled happily. “Checking in?”

“Yeah, should be a ticket for Larry Butz? B-U-T-Z.”

“Mmhmm.” She started typing. “Where are you heading today, Mr. Butz?”

“I actually don’t know!” Larry laughed awkwardly. “My friend booked it. So I guess it’s kind of a surprise.”

“Oh!” The lady smiled. “Well, that’s fun. I do see your reservation here. You’ll be flying out of gate A2, and your flight’s on time. And...” She slid him a boarding pass, face down. “The destination’s on the other side, if you want to keep it a surprise.” She winked at him, and Larry grinned as he took the boarding pass. But not too much; he was a married man, after all.

That thought took a little of the wind out of him, and he felt his shoulders sagging as he headed to security. He mindlessly followed signs and directions, lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t like he was really married. He might as well flirt. Right? Not like Lang would be hurt by it. He wouldn’t care at all. He’d probably forgotten all about Larry.

Larry bought a ridiculously sweet cinnamon roll from the first kiosk he passed and let the overwhelming force of sugar and cinnamon shock him out of his thoughts. This was vacation time! Sort of! Close enough! No time to be sad. He reached his terminal, found a seat, and settled in. Vay-cay-shun, baby!

Edgeworth still hadn’t arrived. But that was fine. That was probably fine. It was getting later, but it was still probably fine. He saw the plane pulling up outside, but it was probably fine. They opened the door to the gangway. They started calling for people to board.

Okay, it probably wasn’t fine.

Larry stared at his phone, willing it to ring. Maybe he could ask them to wait? Edgeworth was an important guy, important enough to wait for! He was on police business or something!

Larry almost fainted when his phone rang. “Edgey!” he wailed, “where are you? The plane’s boarding!”

“Listen to me closely, Larry. I’m not going to make it.”

“What!”

“Listen. You need to get on the plane without me. Someone is waiting for you at the destination. It’s vitally important that you go. Do you understand?”

“But - but - “ Larry looked around in panic. The terminal was nearly empty and the guy checking boarding passes was watching him. “Without you? By myself? I don’t even know where I’m going!”

“You don’t - it’s on your boarding pass, Larry! You’re surrounded by signs!”

“Edgeyyyy...”

“For the love of - get on the damn plane, Larry!”

“Ooooh... okay! Fine! But you’d better be on the next one!”

Larry didn’t even shove his phone into his pocket before darting to the door. “Hi, hello, sorry,” he said as he handed over his pass.

“No problem, sir. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, no, yeah. My friend was supposed to be on this flight and he’s missing it so I guess I’m going by myself!” He was talking too fast, and the man nodded politely.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The man scanned his boarding pass. “They might be able to book him on a later flight if he calls customer service.” He handed the pass back to Larry. “As for you, sir, I hope you enjoy your flight to Zheng Fa.”

“Thanks!”

Larry was halfway down the gangway before he stopped. “Wait, did you say - “ The door was already closing behind him. Larry read his boarding pass. First class seat, nonstop, all the way to Zheng Fa.

Fuck.

The flight to Zheng Fa was long. Edgeworth had sprung for first class tickets, so at least Larry could panic in comfort. This couldn’t be a coincidence. But it had to be, right? There’s no way his friend would send him to the place where his - he still didn’t know what to call Lang. An ex? His husband? Either way, he was tied to that country, and it was impossible to go to Zheng Fa without thinking of him.

But then, he was probably being dumb. It was a whole country. The odds of running into one guy who was overseas somewhere half the time anyway were super low. Like, infinitesimal. Like sitting on a haystack and getting pricked by the needle. He wasn’t going to run into Lang by accident.

Maybe he should try to find him. Maybe he should track him down, take a day out of this trip (Edgeworth was gonna be well behind him anyway) to figure out where Lang lived and pay him a surprise visit. For... what, exactly? Closure? To apologize? To win him back? No, Lang had made it quite clear what he felt about Larry, and there wasn’t any point in pursuing him. He’d never liked him in the first place, and Larry had done what he always did, fell in love too hard and too fast and came out of it a little more broken. It wasn’t any different from any of the girls he’d dated since Cindy, and he’d never gotten this hung up for this long. He’d tried the grand transcontinental gesture before, and it hadn’t worked then. It wouldn’t work now, especially since he didn’t even mean to make it.

Larry cycled between panic and calm throughout the flight, only settling down when he got ahold of some tiny airplane bottles of booze. They calmed his nerves enough for him to watch some terrible movie, and he almost forgot about it. But the movie ended, he remembered, and it was back to panic. Repeat several times.

When the announcement came over the speakers that they would be landing soon, even though it meant he was gonna have to face the actual situation, Larry couldn’t help but be relieved. At least the hours and hours of tension and dread were over. He gathered his things, nodded politely at the flight attendants, exited the plane, and realized he didn’t know a single word of the language here. He wasn’t even sure what language it was.

Fuck. Again.

He went with the crowd, under the assumption that they were probably headed for the baggage claim. As he walked, he turned his phone back on. A couple messages popped up.

From Edgey: There should be a driver waiting for you once you’ve collected your luggage. He’ll take care of you.

Better than nothing, he supposed.

Then one from Nick: Hope you’re having fun! Take lots of pictures and keep me updated, okay? I want to know how it goes!

Larry snapped a picture of the airport terminal and sent it back. So far so good, except that Edgey abandoned me!

There wasn’t a response, of course. There was some massive time difference, probably. What time was it? It had been mid morning when he took off, and it was light out now. Whatever that meant. Larry kept walking and found that his hunch had been right; he ended up at a baggage carousel. He leaned against a column, waiting for his luggage and downloading a Zheng Fa translation app. It’d probably be unreliable at best but it was better than nothing, hopefully. He mumbled a few key phrases to himself, looking like a lunatic. “Hello,” he attempted. His accent was, no doubt, atrocious, but he focused on echoing the app’s pronunciations. “Thank you. Hello. Where is the bathroom? Hello. I do not eat meat. Hello.”

“Hello, Larry.”

It took about seven seconds to realize that hadn’t come from the app. It took three more for him to realize it sounded familiar and raise his head. And it took a solid fifteen for him to stop gaping.

“Oh. H-hey.”

Shi-Long Lang looked as incredible as ever, tight black pants and an unbuttoned shirt. In one hand, he had a bouquet of white carnations, and he smiled with that wolfish grin that made Larry’s heart flutter.

“Didn’t know you spoke Chinese.”

“I don’t. I mean, I got - this is an app.” Larry pointed at his phone. “I was supposed to be - someone else was gonna, uh. I figured it’d be good to learn a couple words.”

“Well, your pronunciation definitely needs some work.”

“Heh. Yeah. That, uh. Makes sense.” Larry cleared his throat. “So what are you doing here? Meeting someone?”

Lang laughed. “How’d you guess?”

“I mean, I figured. The flowers.”

“Ah, yeah, these.” Lang looked at the bouquet like he’d forgotten them. “You like them?”

“They’re really nice. I’m sure they’ll love them.”

“Sure hope so. It’s hard to find carnations this time of year.”

He had gone out of his way to get white carnations for someone. The same flowers Larry had gotten him. A lot of this hurt, but that stung.

Lang asked, “How’ve you been?”

“Uh.” Larry spotted his suitcase on the carousel. “Oops, there’s my bag! Uh, nice to see you, I gotta, I gotta go find - like, there’s a driver or something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Edgeworth said, um, that there’d be someone here.”

“Did he say who?”

“No.” Lang’s eyes followed him as he made his way through the crowd to snag his suitcase. “I mean, I figure they’ll have a sign. That’s what people do, right?”

“Yeah. A sign, something that says Larry on it, right?”

“I think it’ll say Edgeworth, actually, because he - “ When Larry turned around, suitcase in hand, Lang was casually holding a small square of cardboard. On it, in neat, large letters, was printed, Larry Butz.

“Or maybe it’ll say Larry,” he said.

Larry set down his suitcase. “Huh?”

Lang chuckled. “C’mon, Larry. Put it together.”

Larry frowned. Was Lang making fun of him? Showing up at the airport right when he arrived, carrying the same flowers from their first day, with a sign with his name on it, when Larry’s travel companion had missed the flight so he was alone, and Larry needed to find the person waiting for him here, and Lang was here to pick someone up, and - wait.

Larry blinked.

“You... me?”

“Yeah.” Lang presented the bouquet. “You.”

Larry took the flowers, staring down at them dumbly. “But... huh?”

“I set this up. Edgeworth helped, of course. There’s no case, and he was never going to get on that plane with you.” He spread his hands wide. “It was all part of the scheme.”

“Wait, but... huh? Why? Are you - are you sure you’re not supposed to be meeting someone else?”

“I sure as hell hope not, because they’re going to be very disappointed.” Lang cleared his throat. “I want to start,” he began, “by saying I’m sorry. You are a wonderful guy, and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I’m sorry for putting you into a situation where you felt like you owed me something, and for the way I left.”

“Wow. Um.” Larry rubbed the back of his head. “You brought me all the way out here for an apology?”

“Hopefully not.” Lang smiled sheepishly. “I know I messed up, Larry. But I also know you’re a great guy. I was wondering if you’d give me a second chance.”

“A... huh?”

“I gave you one week, Larry; I was hoping you’d return the favor. Your return flight is booked for one week from now. First class and everything. And you can take it if you want. But before you do...” Lang looked down, almost bashful. “I’m asking you for one week.”

Larry had dropped his suitcase at this point, had forgotten they were in a public place surrounded by people, completely given up on anything except processing this... whatever it was. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense.

“Why?”

Lang laughed. “Why?”

“Yeah. Why? Why - why!” Larry took a breath and the world snapped back into focus. “Why this? Why now? Why here? Why me?”

He was on the verge of shouting, and Lang actually looked startled and took half a step back. “Larry - “

“No, I - no! I didn’t - you can’t just - I didn’t deserve to be abandoned again!”

Larry heard the words come out of his mouth and realized, suddenly, vividly, that he actually believed them. That maybe he hadn’t actually deserved to be dumped by every girl he’d ever loved. That he didn’t deserve to be Nick’s best friend their whole lives, only to be demoted to punching bag when Edgeworth returned. That maybe, just maybe, there wasn’t something fundamentally wrong with him that made him unlovable.

Huh.

“I didn’t deserve it,” he says again, slowly, still coping with the novelty of the concept. “You could have talked to me, you could have explained, you could have not slept with me! But you got on a plane and left.”

Lang took a deep breath. “You’re right,” he said, simply. “I fucked up.”

Larry had been gearing up to keep going, prepared to rattle off the entire litany of his complaints; this deflated him completely. “Oh.”

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I knew it when I was doing it. I... I got scared.”

Larry shook his head. “Of me?”

“No. Yes. I...” Lang ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know you, Larry, not really. I only knew you for a goddamn week and I was prepared to take you home to meet my aunties. It was too much, too fast. I could tell I was being irrational, so I ran.” He couldn’t quite look at Larry as he spoke. “I meant it when I said you’re a great guy. You’re kind, thoughtful, considerate, passionate, smarter than you let on, maybe smarter than you even realize, an amazing artist, you throw every fiber of your being into whatever you’re doing, you put others first to the point of self-destruction and you can be an infuriating idiot but you’re too goddamn cute to let die. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you. And if I didn’t run when I had the chance I’d never let you go.”

“Oh,” Larry said, staring down at the flowers he was still clutching. “Okay. I get it.”

“Larry - “

“No, no, I mean I get it. I know what it’s like to fall in love way too fast. I’ve been doing it my whole life. It’s scary, and it makes you do dumb things. I get why you ran. I was ready to drop everything and move halfway around the globe with you! If I had any sense I’d have run too!”

Lang smiled, and it was only now that Larry noticed that his eyes were glimmering with barely-restrained tears. “Well, it didn’t fucking work anyway, because I haven’t stopped thinking about you for three months.” He took a deep breath. “There’s a lot that’s important to me. I can’t promise to always put you first, even though you deserve it. I’ve got responsibilities. My pack depends on me, and I need to take care of them. So, that’s the reason you should run. Because you deserve someone who can give you more of themselves. As much as you give them. I’ll have to leave you again, over and over.” He reached forward and took Larry’s hand, the one holding the bouquet, and lifted it. “But I can promise that I’ll always come back. And if you give me a week, I’ll prove it.”

Larry burst into tears. “Yeah,” he sobbed. His chest hurt. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Lang tilted his head curiously. “Does it?”

“Yeah. Don’t - don’t worry about - about this.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, accomplishing nothing. Lang was here, Lang had brought him here, Lang had come back. For him. “I’m just - I didn’t - I didn’t think you - me? Really?”

“Really.” Lang put his arms around him, pulling him close. “Got the whole week planned,” he said as Larry sobbed into his shoulder. “Restaurants, tourist traps, you’re gonna meet my aunties, it’ll be great. Maybe I’ll add some Chinese lessons to the schedule.”

Larry finally got his breath back enough to lift his head. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” And as he leaned in to kiss Lang, he wondered how to cancel a first class plane ticket.

Chapter Text

Shi-long was used to long plane rides, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a relief to stand and stretch when he got to his destination. Often, he took a few minutes at the gate to review his messages, take stock of the situation, but not today. This wasn’t a flight out, after all.

He carried only a small bag over one shoulder as he loped through the airport, long legs carrying him smoothly and swiftly. He knew this airport well by now and didn’t need to follow signs to find the baggage claim. He wasn’t going to get there for a while anyway. Signs warned him that he was leaving the secure area, that he wouldn’t be able to turn back, and he walked a little faster.

Doors crossed the hallway, one way exits that cut off the secure parts of the terminal. Just beyond them, people waited. Not many, though. Most people meeting loved ones would wait by the baggage carousel, or pick them up out front. Folks catching a cab or a ride share went out a different exit. Very few people bothered coming this far in to the airport just to pick someone up - Larry would have been easy to spot without the sign.

There he was, though. His face lit up as Shi-long came into sight and he waved his sheet of cardboard high in the air, like he wanted to be extra extra sure Shi-long saw it. On it, painted in bold purple letters, Shi-long Lang. The edges of the sign were decorated with an elaborate lacy design, elegant swirls of cream that blossomed into flowers like the carnations Larry had in his other hand.

“You don’t have to make a new sign every time I come home,” Shi-long said, strolling up to his husband.

“I don’t have to,” Larry replied, wiggling the cardboard, “but I’m gonna.”

Shi-long grinned and pulled Larry in for a kiss, deep and warm, crushing the sign between them. “And yet somehow,” he said when they broke apart, “you’re still spelling my name wrong.”

“Huh?” Larry frowned and turned the sign to look at it, but Shi-long plucked it from his hands. He pulled a marker from his pocket, made a few quick movements, and handed the sign back. In black ink, he’d amended -Butz to his last name.

“Aheh...” Larry blushed, smiling sheepishly. “Guess I forgot.”

Shi-long shook his head. Larry hadn’t forgotten; they’d had this talk many times. He just never seemed to understand why Shi-long would proudly wear his surname, why Butz was worthy of the same breath as Lang. But Shi-long was pretty sure he’d get the hang of it eventually. He draped one arm around Larry’s shoulders. With the other, he took Larry’s hand, the one holding the carnations. Before taking the flowers he spent a moment running a fingertip over the band of gold on one of Larry’s fingers, the one that matched his own. Shi-long loved Larry’s fingers, artist’s fingers, a craftsman’s fingers, long and skilled and gently calloused. He lifted them to his lips and kissed Larry’s knuckles. Larry squealed and hid his face, practically squirming, until Shi-long released him.

He had a couple more quips, something about how they were lucky Larry’d picked a cheap flower on that first day, or about Larry not having anything better to do than meet him here, but they evaporated when he met Larry’s eyes again. Beautiful, bright eyes, wide and sparkling, eyes that saw so much beauty in the world and, somehow, in him. Shi-long let their hands drop but didn’t let go.

Larry walked alongside him, their hands still intertwined. “Missed you,” he crooned, leaning his head against Shi-long’s shoulder.

“Missed you too,” Shi-long answered, turning his head just enough to kiss Larry on the top of the head. It really didn’t make any sense how much he’d missed Larry. They’d only been apart for a couple weeks, and they’d been in constant contact through texts and calls and pictures and video and he’d still gone to sleep every night wishing Larry was there, and he’d still felt something in his chest relax when he’d laid eyes on him again.

“Gotta get my suitcase, babe,” he said, remembering the mundane details that Larry sometimes let slip. “We taking a cab home?”

“Nah, Edgey volunteered to give us a ride!”

Shi-long laughed; he was sure that Edgeworth had very little say in this “volunteer” offer. Good to know the pretty boy was still treating his baby nice, though. “Let’s not keep him waiting too long, huh?”

Shi-long and Larry Lang-Butz held each other’s hands tight. Neither had the slightest intention of letting go.