Page 123 of Wallflower

“Boss?” a male voice hollers from a distance, somewhere by the lobby, I assume.

“Ripley!” a deeper, more masculine voice calls out, closer than the other.

“Where are you, motherfucker?” the first one yells, less thick with concern this time.

My brows furrow in worry as the two male voices echo down the hall, advancing on us.

“Yeah, you grumpy fuck, where are you?”

Ripley’s head hangs, huffing. “I really wanted you to be wearing pants for this.”

“Whaaaaat the fuck is happening?” I ask warily.

“You’re about to meet Kyle and Bucky. My second-in-command and my tech genius.”

“We’re more than that asshole,” the one with glasses and an auburn mullet says from one side of the doorway.

“Yeah, we’re loverrrrsssssss,” another man says, poking his head of shaggy brown hair through the door.

“Hold me back, flower, before I kill them.”

“You wouldn’t!” The brunette objects comically as he moves into the room. “Hmmm, interesting…” he murmurs, observing us. “Bucky, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“I am. Interesting indeed.”

“You’re both fired,” Ripley grumbles.

“Yeah fucking right,” the red head chortles.

“Umm… Which one is which?” I ask quietly.

“I’m Kyle,” the brunette pipes up before Ripley can respond. “I used to be better looking, but then I had to wear this asshole’s face to make the plan work. Just know, when you’re sitting on his face, it used to look like mine.” He extends his hand for a shake, but Ripley bats it away with the hand that isn’t cradling my body against his.

Kyle winks, knowing he’s pissing off his boss. Ripley narrows his chilling gaze on him, and he blows a fucking kiss at Rip in return before darting out of reach.

“That’s Bucky.” Kyle juts his thumb in the direction of the other guy. “He likes computers, poker, marsupials, and loose women.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kyle,” Bucky complains, face blushing fast as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You get a look at the system?” Rip asks, ignoring their wild ribbing.

“Not yet, wanted to check in first.”

“You’ll need to go retrieve Maximus’s hand for the bio-analysis.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as all the colour drains from his face. “You…you didn’t do that yet?”

“Been a little busy, bud. You don’t mind the art project, do you?”

“N-no.”

I pipe up, “Stop being cruel, Ripley. He’s got a lot of work ahead of him.”

“Yea, Ripley,” Kyle parrots, “stop being so mean to poor ol’ Buckster. You know he doesn’t like blood.”

“We can go get Maximus’s body and bring it to them. They can manage from there, right?” I cast my sight between the two men who nod in shocked agreement. Who the fuck am I? Why am I speaking at all? These three clearly have years of friendship between them, they’re definitely more than just colleagues.

Ripley leans close, talking low. “I don’t want you to have to go back in that room.”