cologne (juza x banri smut)

𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕖𝕥.

okay so like here's a few things u should know:

-this was originally posted on archive of our own. this is my work.

-Itaru is named Mateo in this au. He's the bartender. I literally just searched up "Italian boy names" on google and Mateo was one of the first results. Don't come after me :,)

-I changed the play a lil. Luciano escapes from the people who took him away after finding out that Lansky ratted him out and tried to dirty his name. They don't see each other for a solid two months until Lansky finds Luciano at the bar

(okay this is optional to read but I have a head canon that instead of being a gaming addict, "Mateo" is a gambling addict in this au. You cannot convince me otherwise. Thank u for coming to my ted talk)

-

Luciano wouldn't forgive Lansky. Not after what he did to him.

That feeling of hurt and betrayal when he found out that jerk made a deal with some dirty cop and tried to bring down his name. He should have listened to the Boss. It was a one-sided friendship all along. Luciano was a fool to even think he found a friend. A true friend. A shoulder to cry on. Someone to laugh, cry, and smile with. But of course, it was his mistake to let his guard down-especially in his line of work.

Who would want to be friends with an asshole like him anyways? He's stubborn, cowardly, and two-faced. God, the brunette was surprised that he had the brain capacity to tolerate his bullshit. Lansky always thought he could speak to him like he was nobody. Just a piece of trash on the cold, hard sidewalk.

"Geez Luciano, you're gonna break your glass. Cheer up a bit, okay?" Mateo, the bartender, tapped him on the shoulder. It snapped the brunette out of his thoughts, realizing his knuckles had turned white from gripping the shot glass too hard. His face turned red in embarrassment.

Mateo sighed. "Look, I know, like, your bestest friend betrayed you, but can you mourn about it in a more subtle way?" He leans in, muttering, "You are scaring the customers." Luciano looked around the room, seeing only a few people. One being a random, energetic looking guy in a sweater with a bunch of triangles on it along with some other dude sleeping on the floor with a pack of marshmallows resting on his stomach. Wow. What a crowd.

Luciano snorted, "What customers exactly?" And the few people here didn't even mind that their sad local yakuza was drinking his tears away. He brought the glass to his lips, realizing it was empty. "Hey. I want a refill."

The bartender rolled his eyes with a fond smile, "You are an ass, you know that?" He grabbed his cup, walking back to the endless rack of alcohol bottles behind him. With his back facing Luciano, he asked. "...It's been awhile since that incident happened between you and him. Don't you think you should be looking for a new job instead of getting drunk over your ass?"

The brunette knitted his eyebrows, the corners of his lips turning downwards. "W-What? I've been trying!"

"Then you obviously haven't been trying enough." Mateo poured more wine into his drink and walked back to Luciano. A concerned frown was on his face. "It's been two months. I'm worried about you."

Luciano didn't reply. He had no reason to be talking back because Mateo was right. What has he been doing this whole time? Nothing. His life has been so empty and pointless ever since. Like a part of him died. Well, maybe the brunette was overreacting on that last part. He would never admit it, but the brunette did miss his company a little. Okay, more than a little. If he had only missed him a tiny bit, Luciano would not be here drinking his sorrows away.

He missed the warm feeling in his gut whenever he was with Lansky. The adrenaline rush whenever they wiped the floor with their enemies on missions. Their playful banter, the tiny ways Lansky would show his care about his well being. He missed the way Lansky's eyes would soften just a little whenever he looked at Luciano when they were alone. His pupils would dilate, and for just a millisecond Luciano would notice his gaze shifting a little lower to his lips. Perhaps it was his imagination?